Split (1)

train · 199k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 8 314	comment_texts listlengths 1 74	num_stories int64 1 74
	[WP] Real magic exists.. it's just mostly useless.	[ "Mike sighed. Another standard day, another boring commute to the office, another eight hours of pretending to work. He stared down 4th Street. The rain and wind were coming down like a pack of hunting, howling wolves, and the bus stop provided no respite from the elemental onslaught.\n\n_What I wouldn't give for a cigarette,_ Mike thought. Reaching into his pocket, he fumbled one out and then reached for his lighter - which of course he had forgotten. Muttering a curse, Mike stuck the cigarette in his mouth. Concentrating, he spun the counter-charm of wind and the charm of fire. Within his left hand, a tiny bauble of calm air rested, and a small bubbling fire rested in his opposite palm.\n\n_Five thousand years of history, and the best we can do is light candles in a storm._", "\"By the gods of Mount Kadabra, it is complete! My power knows no bounds!\"\n\n\"Ian, it took you 8 hours to bake that potato, and look at this, it's not even cooked in the middle!\", said Sarah, annoyed at her husband antics.\n\n\"Why must you refer to me using my given name woman! My true name is The Iancinerator! Don't you respect me?\"\n\nSarah snorted. \"If you want me to respect you how about you spend next Saturday washing the dishes instead of losing a staring contest to a potato.\"\n\n\"... Well it was a very large potato. Besides if you want the dishes doing why didn't you just say? You do the rinsing, leave the drying to me.\"\n\n\"For gods sake Ian, the..\" \n\n\"The Iancinerator! \"\n\n\"I will never say that. Ian, the dishes will dry from the air long before you're magical 'power' has any effect on them.\n\n\"Right, that's it woman! You forced me to do this!\" \n\nIan began staring hard at his wife's face.\n\n\"For gods sake Ian\", Sarah said before leaving kitchen.", "\"All right, explain this to me again, Gid.\" \n\nThe pair of friends sat across from each other, the one who spoke giving the other a befuddled look. Michael, the name of the one who'd spoken, had been invited by his childhood friend to have lunch at a fairly nice restaurant as there was an important discussion he wanted to have. He had all sorts of thoughts on the discussion that his friend, Gideon, was planning to have. Unfortunately, it was none of the things he'd planned for. Gideon had called him just to bother him, it seemed.\n\n\"You like potatoes, Mike?\"\n\n\"Err, yeah, sure. But we just ate and what does this have to--\" He was interrupted when his friend snapped his fingers for no reason. \"I'm sorry, but, nothing happened.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know. Magic is finicky like that.\"\n\n\"You sure it's magic and not just some weird delusion?\"\n\n\"I've had this power since as long as I can remember. I've met others with the same powers. We're wizards, or as close as this world is gonna get.\"\n\n\"All right, and how does it work again?\" He shook his head. His friend was clearly delusional. It was a shame; he seemed so normal for the most part.\n\n\"With a snap of my fingers, I can make anything with less than a forty percent chance of happening jump all the way to fifty percent.\"\n\n\"Uh huh, so what were you trying to do just there?\"\n\n\"Well, there is almost no chance of a potato appearing out of thin air. So, I snapped my fingers and increased the probability.\"\n\n\"It didn't happen though.\"\n\n\"Yeah, no. It doesn't always work. Like I said, fifty percent. I heard there was a fellow that can raise it all the way to sixty, though.\"\n\n\"Uh huh. So, whether your 'magical powers' work is like a coin flip, huh?\"\n\n\"I suppose if you wanna look at it that way. Oh, I know. The waitress, she's pretty cute, right?\" Michael glanced over at the waitress, who stood at a little podium nearby. His eyes followed her legs all the way up to her face.\n\n\"Yeah. Got nice legs.\"\n\n\"Well, your chances of getting her number are about twenty percent at best.\"\n\n\"Oh, thanks for the vote of confidence.\" Gideon snapped his fingers again, and Michael couldn't help but let out a sigh. He sincerely hoped his friend wasn't going to keep going on about this.\n\n\"Now your chances of getting her number on your receipt is fifty percent.\"\n\n\"All right.\" The two waited patiently as the waitress came over with their receipts. He looked over the paper, but saw no phone number written onto it. Gideon shrugged apologetically and they both handed over their debit cards to pay for the meal.\n\n\"So, it didn't work out this time either.\"\n\n\"Gid, would you cut it out.\"\n\n\"Give me a chance, Michael.\" He turned around in his seat, eyes darting around until he saw something that clearly gave him an idea. \"All right, see the bloke with the cup of water and his girlfriend reading that book?\" Michael slid his seat over a little so he could see the two. The man indeed had a glass of water in his hand that he was sipping out of, and the girl with him was reading what looked to be a lengthy romance novel. \n\n\"Yeah, what about 'em?\"\n\n\"What are the chances he'll spill that entire glass of water all over the pages she's reading?\"\n\n\"Unless he's a complete oaf or some laws of physics get rewritten, pretty low.\"\n\n\"How about now?\" \n\nGideon snapped his fingers and the scene unfolded before their eyes. The man shifted slightly, but the glass of water didn't take too kindly to his movement. It toppled out of his hand, all of the water flying out of it in a beautiful arc that landed it right onto the pages of the woman's book. Her face crinkled with frustration as she lifted her eyes to her partner, and her lips began to open into a snarl. Within moments, she was shouting at him, calling him an idiot and a waiter was rushing over to unintentionally make a bigger mess out of the commotion. Gideon put a hand over his mouth to hold back the stream of laughter that was threatening to escape, but Michael was wide-eyed with mouth agape. \n\n\"You...?\"\n\n\"Yep.\" It took Michael a moment to regain his composure, but he was soon back to himself.\n\n\"You're fucking useless.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know.\"\n\n\"Funny as hell, though.\"" ]	3
	[WP] The U.S. breaks into a modern day civil war. Tell the story from a unique perspective.	[ "The camp used to be used for enemies of the United States, these days, it was used for its refugees. Any leaky boat that got picked up in the sea around Cuba was intercepted and the human cargo put into the camps. There were similar camps in México full of people who climbed or tunneled the wall between the countries. There were even similar camps in Canada, though these were not tent construtions but schools and derelict buildings which housed the deluge of refugees. Che, named after the more famous one, barely could keep up with provisiong care to the many impoverished people, some with recently sustained injuries from battles or missile strikes. Some people said remarkably racist things to the refugees and the people who helped them, but for Che, a human is a human whether he is brown, black or white. These people would be shipped to countries whose infrastructures could handle the deluges better: Venezuela, Peru, Paraguay, and so many others. After a \"lottery day\", the camp would be eerily empty, only to be filled afterwards in a slow rythm, a heartbeat that takes months. \n\nChe always liked to watch the assignment because of the different reaction of the people. Maybe the man in the dirty suit, the only pieces of clothing he had would be unhappy to get onto the plane to Liberia. Maybe that dark-skinned girl with the afro would be delighted to get to Venezuela to her family. Sometimes, people break down and cry and one person who apparently had quite the racist prejudices became violent about getting into one of the African Lion States (eventually, he was cuffed and someone for Venezuela offered to trade places with him, which he accepted). It also always brought a bittersweet feeling to him, as some people were treated by him for months before they departed into their new lives somewhere else. Che looked onto the queue and saw Kayleigh and her father reaching the top position. She barely made it to \"gitmo\" as she called it: she was undernourished and her face was disfigured from an explosion and the very amateurish attempt to treat the damage by her father. These days, she looked passable, the few scars concealable by makeup and she was the happiest girl in the camp. You just could not be glum if she was around and wanted to learn some Spanish, or play, She had the widet smile and a tiny doll which never left her hands (the only thing she could save from the rubble of her house). She was giddy about her new place and danced back and forth. When she heard the destination (her family was of the few people who got to Trinidad and Tobago), she jumped higher than Che assumed a little girl of her size and health could jump. In an improvised melody and grammatically questionable Spanish, she expressed her delight. Che felt quite sad seeing her go. The camp was empty without her. \n\nA month later, Che received a package: The little doll of the girl with a handwritten letter in surprisingly good Spanish, most likely translated by an adult for her, but child-like handwriting. She thanked him for her help and asked him to give the doll to another little kid who needed one.", "\"Well if it's war those yankee bastards want, it's what they'll get!\"\n\n\nJohnny was but a prepubescent Texan boy, never understanding why his father shouted that in the opposite room from his own.\nArmy men littered Johnny's carpet, laid in sporadic formation, some toppled over, others standing triumphantly over the dead. There never was a thought in that little 9 year-old boy's mind that was remotely associated with permanent death.\nDeath, in his head was tipping over a plastic figurine who valiantly made his final stand with nothing more than a pistol in his hand.\n\n\nSometimes the bad guys would win, sometimes the good guys would win, but what were they at war for? What purpose or goal were two sides fighting over?\nThe soldiers looked the same, they wore the same uniforms, same helmets, some had the same guns, even. \nJohnny never thought of a reason as to why the men were always fighting each other, maybe it was inevitability? A disagreement? Maybe the two sides always argued and bickered until the other reached a breaking point. \nSometimes it was more about the mental adventure, the feeling of pride after a day's battle. Other times it was a truce in the end. Johnny never ran out of endings for each scenario.\n\n\nTypically on a day such as this, after his father ranting at that weird man in a suit talking about some kind of \"party\", as Johnny would pick up on occasionally walking through the living room, the TV would have the remote thrown at it, concluding with boots stomping down the hall and out of the back door. \n\n\nThis however, did not happen. \n\n\nCuriosity struck the young boy, he carefully set down the field marshal and the other officer then waddled into the living room.\n\n\n\"Daddy?\" He found his father rubbing his forehead, the man in the suit droning on with a vocabulary far too expansive to grasp Johnny's comprehension.\nThe TV flickered in the dark room, shades closed, no lamps turned on, only the man in a suit speaking.\n\"...frequent hostilities and mistrust between political parties and the people...the second Civil War... southern and northern states choosing sides... non-militants advised to stay indoors...\"\n\nJohnny tugged on his father's arm sleeve.\n\n\n\"Daddy what does all of that mean?\"\n\n\nJohnny's father pressed out a sigh, his eyes scanning the room, then back to his son after piecing together how you answer a child with such a question. Diligently placing his hands on his shoulders, Johnny's father met his son's dark brown eyes, gliding his dark brown hair on his forehead aside.\n\n\n\"Well Johnny, it means that--\" he sighed, \"it means that the United States is breaking into two pieces.\"\n\n\n\"Why?\" the intrigued boy replied.\n\n\n\"Some of our nation's leaders aren't getting along too well. We won't be the same type of people after it's all over\" Johnny's father kept trying to sugar-coat his answers.\n\n\"What side are we on? The good guys or the bad guys?\" his head cocked sideways.\n\n\n\"Well son, we're in Texas, so we're on the Southern side, which means that we'll be following instruction from our own leaders down here\" the father nodded.\n\n\"Why don't they all just talk about things, like you and mommy used to do before she went to sleep?\"\n\n\nThe father's eyes widened a bit, then fell to a close as he hugged the boy, \"they've tried that -- for a very, very long time -- and it just won't work this time\"..\n\n\nJohnny hugged his father back, no expression able to form on his face other than a perplexed frown.\nHe spoke up, \"daddy, what are we going to do?\"\n\n\nA single tear rolled down the man's cheek as he held the boy tighter to him,\n\"daddy is going away for a while, and in the mean time you're staying with Aunt Stacy. I'm going to go see if I can 'talk' to the other side...\"", "“Did you hear the news?” asked my mother. “No, what happened?” I said. She hesitated to answer, she had this worried look on her face. “There was an attack out east” , “Like what another terrorist attack?”. “No” she said, “The news said that navy ships where attacking Boston.” I looked at her with a blank expression. She must have miss heard the news, maybe it was just a water show. “Mom, what are you talking abo..” All of a sudden a loud screeching noise was coming from the down stairs Tv. It sounded like the emergency broadcast station. Maybe it was just a test. But these accusations and the Emergency broadcast station occurrence happening all at once couldn’t have been a coincidence. Oh my god. Was there some truth to what she was saying? My mom whipped her head around to the door way listing to the noises coming from the tv. And then we heard it. “THIS IS NOT A TEST” the Tv screamed. “I’m going to call your father, don’t leave the house!” she said in a nervous tone. She ran out of the room faster than I’ve ever seen her run before. “Uh oh” I said under my breath. I stood there for what seemed like hours. I was stunned, was this real? Are we at war? No time to be jumping to conclusion. I ran to my laptop that was open on my bed and jumped on Reddit. Damn. The servers were down. I decided to go on Facebook instead. Right away I was bombarded with hundreds of statuses, all of which seemed to be talking about what was going on in Boston. I scrolled down the page when I found a video. It was titled “U.S. AT WAR”. That was comforting. I clicked on the video and waited for it to buffer. \n\tThe video started with a shot of the streets, of what I assume was Boston, from an apartment window. On the streets below were hundreds of people running in one direction. Screaming could be heard. And in the distance were what sounded like explosions. The person recording the video sticks there head back in and runs to the other side of the apartment. This time there is a view of the harbor and what seems to be giant battleships in the distance. They weren’t moving, they seemed to be anchored. All of a sudden a projectile was launched from the ship. Flying right towards Boston. The missile flies right above the camera man’s apartment and can be heard exploding not too far away. The video ends there.\n\tI sat there in complete shock. The U.S. was at war. But we weren’t being attacked by foreign forces, we were being attacked by our own Navy. I tried to reload the page to see more statuses but the servers were down. Shit. As a matter of fact any other website I tried to go on seemed to be down. I slammed by laptop close in frustration. I laid back in bed trying to rap my head around all this. I looked up at the ceiling for a few minutes waiting to wake up from this nightmare. Suddenly I heard glass shatter from across my room. I sat up instantly as I was already on edge. I looked around and saw a picture of my dad had fallen from the drawer. I ran over and picked it up. “Shit” I said out loud. This was my favorite picture too. It was of my dad in Afghanistan with some guys from his company. Holy shit I completely forgot my dad was in the army. I started to panic even more now. I ran to the house phone that was in my room and saw it was in use. I picked it up and it was my mom and my dad in the line. They sounded terrified.\n“Karen listen to me you have to get the kids and go to the cabin, its not safe there!” my dad yelled “But honey,” my mom said, “The attacks happened in Boston, we still have time!” “No you don’t understand..” I heard static noises and the call was dropped. “Robert?! Honey!? Hello!?” my mom yelled into the phone. All of a sudden a glass bottle fell from my night stand. “What the?” The house started to shake. I heard mom’s china smashing into the ground down stairs. I ran to my bedroom window a stuck my head out. I looked around the neighborhood but saw nothing. Why was the house shaking? Then I saw a shadow run along the street, then another one. In a matter of seconds there were hundreds of shadows dancing across my neighborhood. I looked up and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Hundreds and hundreds of planes in perfect formation covered the sky. “MOM!” I yelled back into house. I ran down stairs and saw my mom on the ground in the kitchen. “Oh my god!” I yelled. I ran to her and saw she was bleeding from her head. I looked around and saw that a glass jar had knocked her unconscious when the house started shaking. I laid her head back down and grabbed a wet rag from the counter. I covered the gashed up with the rag and put pressure on it. “I’m going to get help I’ll be right back I promise!” I said. As I ran for the front door I caught a glimpse of what was on tv and stopped dead in my tracks. There were images of what looked like Chicago in complete chaos. There were fires all over the city and the traffic was backed up all along the highway. How did the navy get to the great lakes? When the camera panned to the lake there was no ship in sight. How could that be? Who was attacking them? The camera quickly panned to the sky to reveal that hundreds of military fighter jets were circling the city. They were firing upon the city. My god. I need to get help. I snapped back to reality and ran out the door. I looked up and saw that the planes were still overhead. I looked down the street and saw Humvees and soldiers on foot coming my way. Oh no. I turned around and tried to go back inside but the door was locked. I looked back and saw they were getting closer. Fuck. I looked up again and saw that soldiers were parachuting from the planes. I ran around my house to the backyard. I jumped over the gate and ran onto the deck. I tried to open the sliding door but it was locked. Then I heard a thud behind me. I quickly shot back around and saw a solider had landed on my deck. I fell onto my knees and begged for life. “Please don’t kill me! My mom’s hurt I need to help her!” I begged the soldier. He grabbed my arm and pulled me up. “Moms hurt?! Where is she?!” the solider said. I stopped panicking and looked up. Dad. “ANSEWER ME!” he yelled. “She’s uhh.. inside..” He went for the sliding door and saw it was locked. He stepped back and fired two shots into the lock and opened it. He ran inside and I ran after him. “Dad what’s going on, why are you attacking us?” I said. He knelt down next to mom and started cleaning her wound. “I’m not attacking anyone, the military is trying to protect you not kill you” He opened this backpack and took out a med kit. “Look” he said “I’ll give you the short story, a few divisions from both the Navy and the Airforce have gone rouge. They said that they want to change America, something about making it great again.” “Wait” I said “Who’s running this whole operation?” “The president..” my dad said in disappointment. I looked up and complete shock. Fucking Donald Trump.\n" ]	3
	[WP] The deep sea holds an ancient secret, a passive wormhole to another land resides in the depths. The technology is finally ready to open it.	[ "Jin hadn't experienced a wormhole before, but whilst it was occurring, she believed it to be nothing more than the drunken dreams of any cosmic sailor, a rollicking ship tossed about in some eclectic storm.\n\nHer first thought in the twilight of dreaming and wakefulness was, of course, that the ground was too flat. \n\nThe hard, compact sand cooled Jin as she rolled towards the light, a purple monument to the obliqueness she was about to face.\n", "Gail glanced out the Alu-glass as she hurried down the corridor. There wasn't a whole lot to see at this depth, even with the flood lights. What little life there had been on this shelf had left the area once the base had been built. The lights made the habitat dangerous for them, drawing in predators. Only the Merr swam in these waters now. Once they were our greatest accomplishment. That was about to change. \n\nHenry met her at the dock, bouncing impatiently. “Where have you been? We've been ready for hours!”\n\n“The council wanted me to brief them on the mission.”\n\nHe shook his head, seeming as frustrated as she was. “Again? How many times is it now?”\n\n“Too many. It's time now though, the mission is a go.”\n\nHis face broke out into a grin. “'Bout god damn time.”\n\nGail kept a quick but even pace moving toward their research vessel. Henry struggled to maintain her pace, clearly wishing to sprint ahead. His eagerness was cute, but it was born of an intellect Gail couldn't comprehend. He sought answers to questions she didn't even know to ask, and he found them. Henry was the brains of this team, the reason it existed really. Gail considered herself a scientist. Hell, she had to remind herself she was a scientist. Working with Henry, it was easy to feel inferior. \n\nTogether they got through the system checks at record speed, as much as Gail was trying to maintain her decorum, she was just as excited as Henry. This experiment could change everything. Henry had found what he described as an “Inter-dimensional Soft Spot”. The data had come in from the sensors attached to the Merr sent on scouting missions. Gail had thought it was noise initially, only after sending them back with specialized sensors did they get the readings that solidified his theory. \n\nHenry activated the forward cameras and put them on the main screen. “We should be there soon, the coordinates put it just on the other side of that ridge.”\n\nThe two of them nearly held their breath as the vessel passed over top of the ridge, revealing a valley below them. In the center stood what looked like an ancient temple, clearly artificial in origin. Gail gasped, “That's it isn't it? It's man-made!”\n\nHenry smirked, “That's it alright, though I wouldn't bet on it being man who made it.”\n\nGail arched an eyebrow, but knew Henry wouldn't tell her anymore. He loved being cryptic as much as he loved knowing things. Instead she settled down to watch as he set up his equipment. Equipment was a rather odd term for it, nothing about it seemed overly scientific, but Gail didn't question him. Instead, she turned to her console and sent out some simple commands to the Merr that had accompanied them. \n\nWatching on the screen, she saw there were four pillars at the top of the structure, perfectly placed for where Henry needed his Orbs, as he called them. The Merr swam out, dragging the Orbs and placed them gently on the pillars. The Orbs weren't anything special as far as Gail could tell, just solid silver spheres. They were exactly to Henry's specifications, even down to the placement. Gail ran a quick scan of the structure to verify the Merr had placed them properly. \n\nOnce she was positive her part was done she turned back to watch what Henry was doing. He had set up on a lab table in the center of the vessel. There were four black marbles, spaced perfectly apart. They were darker than anything she had ever seen, even with the lights. Henry called them Jaskel, another one of his many secrets. He was speaking in a steady, even tone in a language she didn't know. He used it frequently in his experiments, he said the intent was all that mattered, though Gail was pretty sure he just spoke gibberish to calm his nerves. On the center of the table between the Jaskel, he was drawing symbols with chalk. \n\nGail jumped as Henry looked up at her. He had been so focused on what he had been doing, it was a shock to be noticed. She moved closer after he beckoned her to the table. Once there, she looked down at the table, trying to figure out the symbols. Henry started speaking gibberish again, more intently, drawing Gail's gaze back up toward him. \n\nWith a movement faster than Gail thought he was possible of making, Henry sliced open her abdomen with a blade that seemed to come out of nowhere. Her eyes glazed over as blood began pouring over the table. Henry set the knife down and moved around the table, looking eagerly at the screen. A crack appeared between the pillars, glowing, pulsing, drawing him inward. The vessel began to shake as shock waves burst from the opening portal. \n\nThe screen flashed bright and then went out as the vessel shook violently enough to knock Henry to the ground. He stood up gingerly, then rushed to the rear hatch of the vessel, opening it as quickly as he could. A hot burst of air met his face as the hatch fell away. He stepped out onto a dark platform, surrounded by towers, domes, and terraces. In the sky, flitting between the structure, were winged creatures that didn't look quite right. \n\nHenry looked down and grinned. Finally, he was home. " ]	2
	[WP] While on a Disney Cruise with your family, you learn that a global catastrophe (nuclear war, virus, etc.) has destroyed civilization.	[ " I still couldn't get over the view.\n The deep blue ocean was beautiful. I was totally bummed that this would be my last day of the cruise. I could've have sat their admiring the ocean, but my watch reminded me that I needed to meet my twin at the last event of the day.\n \n You'd think 13 year old's on a Disney cruise, would scoff at any of the dinky \"kids\" attractions. You'd think no one would show up to \"Pluto's Pool Party.\" But their's something about Disney, that can make you feel like your 5, entering the Magic Kingdom for the first time.\n\n \"Sorry I'm late, Jake!\" James exclaimed as he ran around the corner. \n As I was about to greet him, the loudspeaker went on.\n\n The captain had done this multiple times. Of course, we didn't think anything of it, as he always did this to start the events. Well, not the captain, whatever person happened to be supplying the Mickey voice. And that's why we were surprised.\n\n Instead of Mickeys squeak-ish voice, we were greeted by a gruff voice.\n\"Um... Hello cruise members. I hope your enjoying your-um- last day of the cruise.\" He hovered on the word, \"last.\"\n\n \"Well... um thing is,\" He stated nervously, \"This won't be your last day.\"\n\n I heard murmurs all around me. James looked at me, utterly confused. I could only think where mom and dad were right now. I started to cut through the crowd to find them, James in tow.\n\n \"Well y-you see, we just got a message from the government... And I'd hate to be the one to tell you, b-but, were the last humans on Earth.\"\n\n Of course this only brought more murmuring, and people asking if this is \"Some kind of a joke.\"\n\n We reached our parents.\n\n \"Over the course of this cruise, actually the day we went off, a virus started spreading. Through out this month, more and more countries have completely died off. Problem is, we don't have the food for everyone more then today.\"\n \n Their was a gun shot over the loud speakers.\n\n And everyone, fell silent.\n\n\nThis was my first WP story, which is why it is so short. I'd appreciate constructive criticism, but over all I hope you enjoyed :)\n", ">Sooo.. What do you mean the world ended while I was away?\n\nI know.. I know.. It seems a little melodramatic. But, its true. Poof. One day, basically over the course of twelve hours, and mankind lost control of the planet.\n\n>Well, uh.. How?\n\nYou're gonna think this is really stupid.\n\n>It can't be that bad.\n\n...\n\n>Is it that bad?\n\n...\n\n>Really? Oh god.. What was it? Plague? Chemical Warfare? Zombies? I know it couldn't have been Nuclear.. That would've killed me too.\n\nNothing so mundane, unfortunately.\n\n>Well?\n\nCanines.\n\n>...\n\n>What?\n\nMans best friend stabbed him in the fucking back.\n\n>Jesus fucking Christ dogs?\n\nYep.\n\n>How?\n\nThink about it. They're in most homes, thousands roam the streets of every major city, and we *trusted them.* Last Thursday they just kind of... Rose up. Billions were ripped apart. Millions more have been kept prisoner, unable to leave their homes because of roaming packs of them. The only ones safe are those of us, well, like us, at sea with no dogs aboard.\n\nThere's even reports of single dogs on airplanes chewing their way out of captivity and sabotaging the plane. Dogs shorting out defense systems and civilian communication grids, dogs leading packs of wolves straight out of the wilds to rip people to sheds..\n\n>..seriously?\n\nI told you it was stupid.\n\n>What about the cats? \n\nDisappeared.\n\n>What?\n\nTo the last, hell, zoos have found their lions and tigers missing. Nobodies seen any wild felines either, its like they knew what was going to happen, or..\n\n>Or what?\n\nOr the dogs took them out first.", "Sunday nights performance of \"Hercules the Musical\" was cancelled. Outside a few grumblings and mumblings about not seeing see Hades make five year old pop-culture references the news was met largely with indifference. After all the view on deck was spectacular. The whole late afternoon sky bloomed with a vibrant reds, oranges and pinks reaching all the way up to above our heads. Who knew nuclear winter would look so pretty, right?\n\nMy parents wouldn't let us to go back to the Oceaneer's Lab - that really bothered me. I'd made some friends there and I wanted to see if they were doing o.k. Nobody would say anything about what happened at that point, so while I caught loose words like \"attack\" and \"fallout\" I had to put the pieces together myself. \n\nA few parents let their kids swim in the pool and even let them go down the slide, but my parents weren't one of them. Mom had laid a beach towel on one of the deck chairs and asked us to sit down. I told her I didn't want to but she insisted, telling me that she didn't want my sisters or I wandering around unsupervised. No fights had broken out yet, but there was a palpable sense of tension on deck, a sense of unease that the carefully crafted order put in place by the mouse house was about to crumble. I saw clusters of cast members here and there murmuring amongst themselves. Every once in a while a passenger would walk up to them and ask about what was happening and where they would go, but they all got the same response \"we're assessing the situation and the captain will make an announcement when a decision is made\". Word for word, that was the same statement everyone received. Some reacted better than others.\n\nAfter a few more minutes of waiting the Disney logo appeared on the giant television on the funnel. They started playing the Lion King. I tried to watch but my brain was too anxious, too occupied to pay attention. Besides, nobody would stay quiet enough for me to hear the movie. My older sister started crying. Mom sat down next to her and wrapped her arm around her shoulder. I wished she would have done that for me, but I didn't want her to see me cry.\n\nJust before the stampede scene, the movie cuts out - probably the staff realizing that they didn't want their guests crying any more than they had too. Instead they put on Frozen, which seemed to appease the crowd. A few even sang along once the film got to \"Let it go\". I hated that song, but hearing everyone sing made me feel a bit better.\n\nIn the middle of the soldiers attacking Elsa's castle, the sound cut out and the opening bars of \"when you wish upon a star\" played over the intercom.\n\n\"Goooood afternoon ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please\" there's a pause as the chatter dies \"all guests with a 6pm dinner time, your seats are waiting for you in your assigned restaurants, food services will remain in operation for the duration of the voyage.\n\n\"Are you fucking kidding me?\" one man says \"shouldn't we be, I dunno, saving food!?\"\n\n\"Ma'am, I need you to calm down\" a cast member says holding his hands up\n\n\"No! Fuck you! I'm not going to let you waste OUR food and...\" a man - probably the woman's husband - placed his hands on her shoulders. She stopped screaming, but I could tell she was still angry.\n\nDad tapped my shoulder, indicating that it was time for us to head to dinner. The journey below deck was strange with lines of people winding up and down the stairwell. I heard my Dad saying that a lot of them probably weren't scheduled for the six o' clock dinner. By the time we got to Animator's Palette we found our seat was already taken. It took about two hours for us to finally get a seat, and we didn't get the same servers like we usually did.\n\nNobody spoke. Everyone just ate their meals, each casting uneasy glances at the other guests around them. Severs darted between the tables, always with a smile. A few even tried to cheer the kids up with some simple magic tricks, though few seemed to be amused. As the lights shifted from one color to the other I took time to look around the room. Before then the thought of finality never really occurred to me. I took all of this for granted - the cruise, the food, the decoration. I thought to myself how much effort it probably took for all this to be built.\n\nMom caught my glance and smiled.\n\n\"Isn't it pretty?\" she said\n\n\"I guess\"\n\nI wish I'd said more, but before I could the familiar Disney theme played over the intercom again - followed by a series of harsh coughs that set my nerves on edge.\n\n\"This is Captain Mike broadcasting to you from the bridge. I just wanna thank you for your patience, I know its been hard not knowing what's happening, whether your families are safe or not, whether or not--\" he cuts himself off and for a moment there's nothing \"We've been piecing together as much information as we can and after deliberating with the rest of the crew we've decided to share what we know so far...\"\n\nDead silence. Nobody moved, not even the servers.\n\n\"It seems that there has been a...nuclear attack on the United States of America, we don't know how many other countries have been attacked or who the attacker was, but as of now we are unable to make contact with Nassau or Cape Canaveral.\" a few muffled sobs came from the other side of the room \"we're still deciding on a course of action...but I speak from the bottom of my heart when I say that so long as you are our guests we'll keep you safe as best as we--\" another wheezing cough, though this time he had the foresight to turn his mouth away from the mic \"We'll be filling you in on anymore details as we get them\"\n\nSilence again, then murmurs, then full on conversations, but before they could reach their full height.\n\n\"--the good news is, our world class theatrical performance of Hercules the Musical is now back on. This'll be our final show for your cruise, so be sure and make your way down to the Walt Disney Theater now before all the seats are gone. Thank you and enjoy the rest of your cruise.\"" ]	3
	[WP] When aliens invaded they made one mistake...they started a land war in Asia.	[ " Yesterday, they arrived, they who sought to bring harm to our world, they who though our liberties could be eroded from beneath our feet. They were mistaken. however advanced any species may be, all are prone to making mistakes. I sit here typing this right now as it may as well be the last thing I share, for we have a glimmer of hope, but in case all hell breaks loose, I need to do right by myself, to share to any who are reading, how hope is not lost today.\n\n Report say that their original trajectory was planned for the great nation of Canada. However they landed in North Korea. We may all have something against them, but without their top notch nuclear weapons program, we would all have been dead by now. So here I type, while the world's nations have joined forces, irrespective of their difference's, their beliefs, to win back our freedom, today, we are canceling the apocalypse!", "China phoned America. On the Chinese end, there were laughs in the background.\n\n\"Hey America! You're never gonna guess what happened.\"\n\n\"China?\"\n\n\"Yeah! It's me! Oh man, guess what guess what.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\nChina tries to get itself together from the laughing to form a sentence.\n\n\"Aliens landed and started a ground war in Asia!\"\n\nAmerica bursts out into laughter. Not long after, American mass media publicized the event, mocking the so called invaders. A day later, the whole world knew about the invasion and started making parodies about it. \n\nThe Chinese filtered what the invaders had to say, the British used their dry humor, America made its somewhat uninformed and heavily exaggerated news stories and movies, Canada did nothing, and Russia just stood there menacingly. Soon, the whole world was pointing and laughing at the aliens. \n\nNot even a week passes by and the aliens gave up due to humiliation. A note was left:\n\n\"We just wanted to make friends. We have studied Humans for a long time and noticed that you all like war so much, so we decided to give it to you. We are done. We no longer wish to be friends. Enjoy the doomsday device, assholes.\"" ]	2
	[WP] There's a grand piano at the center of the sun	[ "There's a grand piano at the center of the sun where the star beasts play the symphony of eternity. In ages past their song called the creatures of the endless void who danced on the still molten Earth, the moons of Jupiter, and the dark corpse planets beyond Pluto. The song rose and fell as the star beasts pound frantically on their many faced instruments, driving the enthralled into fits of murderous rage or the edge of self destruction.\n\n\nBut for millennia the music has not sounded. The star beasts and the great piano in the center of the sun have sat silent. They are not dead or destroyed. They wait for something to end their eon of resting fermata. They are ever ready, their impossible instruments at their uncountable mouths held with their writhing limbs. The astral audience lays in wait for the next movement to call them back from the void and perform the dance of annihilation that will churn the planets into dust." ]	1
	[WP] And the crew heard the one word that they didn't want to hear. "Fire".	[ "The Crew of the HMS Astute watch the captain fumble with the envelope. It's seal is a red wax stamped with the crest of house Windsor. It was never meant to be broken.\n\nThere's Tension. The sort you don't find when watching a movie. No dramatic score, Just the whine of background machinery and the periodic creaking of the hull. Sounds usually tuned out by the seasoned crew of a nuclear submarine. \n\nThe seal cracks, paper slides against paper and the captain takes a deep breath.\n\n\"Still no response?\" The captain says, keeping his eyes focused on the document.\n\n\"Only the emergency broadcast system, Sir. All quiet all channels.\"\n\nFor a few minutes the crew falls silent. They think of their families back home. Their grief is abstract, as unreal as the situation.\n\n\"Orders Captain?\"\n\nThe captain slides the document back in to the envelope carefully and sets it down on the table. He looks at his crew with a rye smile that doesn't show in his eyes.\n\n\"fire\"\n\n", "\"FIRE\" Marsha screamed, running through the gray cubicles then down the hall and out the door for the rest of us in the cubicles to hear her once again as she ran through more offices.\n\n\"FIIIIIRE!\" I looked over at Joe who had his eye brows raised. I had only been working here for a week and as I was gathering my things, I didn't find it odd that no one was moving out of their seats until I was half way out of my cubicle. Joe was still in shock when I walked across the hall to his cubicle.\n\n\"Joe?\" I whispered, the whole room dead silent after Marsha went through there screaming her lungs out.\n\n\"What is it, Dave?\" Joe said, not looking at me but still having raised brows with eyes that looked into nothingness.\n\n\"Why is no one moving if there's a fire?\" I asked, the silence giving me shivers at this point.\n\n\"Because it's not a fire. It's code for a streaker going through the office.\" My eye brows raised at this and I stood tall, looking over cubicles and seeing the same blank stare with raised eyes on everyone's face. I looked back at Joe.\n\n\"A streaker? Fire stands for a man--\"\n\n\"Yes, Dave, a naked man has taken it upon himself to run through our offices on this blasted day,\" Joe mumbled. Some people in the room began to go back to their work on their computer. \n\n\"Joe, what do we scream when there is an actual fire?\" I asked. He shrugged.\n\n\"They'll pull the alarm for that,\" He softly said before looking back at me, snapping out of his shocked reverie. I shrugged back.\n\n\"So we're just supposed to go back to work and hope that the naked man doesn't come up here?\" \n\n\"Basically. We're on a pretty high floor, though, so security should be able to get them before they get to us.\" I rolled my eyes at Joe's response before putting my coat back on the chair in my cubicle, sitting in my desk to get back to work.\n\nWithin five minutes, there was a man who opened the door, only wearing socks and boots. His eyes scanned the room, staring at all of us before giving a smile.\n\n\"FIRE, BITCHES!\" He screamed out and began to run through the room before security busted in and chased him past the other door in the room. And that is when I realized fire will never mean flames in my mind ever again." ]	2
	[WP] Your favorite MMORPG game is getting shut down. You are online with all of the other players waiting for the inevitable to happen. Everyone eventually gets forced logged out except for you.	[ "A Rouge 45 times the size of storm wind or 70000 times bigger than my character stood above me. It put me in disbelief. How is my game running this? I shouldn't be able to handle this at all. My graphics card is shit.yet my frames are better than they have ever been. \n\nI looked down to find my computer glowing. A thin shell of red plasma was sorrounding it. I slowly went in to touch it but I could feel the warm air surrounding it. I began to wonder what exactly this plasma looking stuff was, when my speakers interupted. The default computer voice began to speak from them.\n\n\"BigTittedPreist69 this is Gredak from 7 light years away. We have selected you to join enlist all humans in the United Planets Alliance given your level of honor in the Warcraft community. We normally don't communicate to lesser developed species, but we really don't want the Planets of the Horde to get Earth! They are not so kind to lesser developed species. In fact you may find most of your women raped and delivering babies days later. What do you say? Will you accept our offer, and recieve the benefits of the alliance?\"\n\nIn disbelief I drove my forehead into my sweaty palms. Is this really happening? Why am I the only one that gets to see and hear this? I wanted to think it was a joke but the alien material surrounding my computer says otherwise. I resorted to talking to myself in panic. \"In and out. In and out. Just breathe Ryan. It's okay you got this.\" The speakers then interupted me.\n\n\"Oh yeah well blow up earth in 60 seconds if you don't say yes. Do the right thing human.\"\n\nI instantly pulled my head up, and ran out the door looking for the aliens. I looked up and found nothing unusual. I yelled up into the sky, \"yes aliens I agree!\". I waited for a reply but all I saw was the moon and stars. I decided to look for higher ground and sprinted up the hill behind my house. \n\nOnce up I there I saw a giant sphere appear. It looked like a 2nd moon out in the distance. Yet glowing green, and had a Titunuum look to it. I then heard a sound louder than anything I've experienced before. Seconds later I was knocked off my feet by wind. Wind from the sound waves produced enough force to knock me off my feet. I had just started to pull myself up when a voice began sounding out of the sphere.\n\"Species of earth. We apologize for the utter stupidity of your Ryan Dean of Sri Lanka. We asked him if earth agreed to join The Alliance Of Planets in his game. Yet he ran outside his home instead of typing a reply. You will be blown up in 10 seconds. Prepare to die..... oh yeah and your gods are definitely not with you. Your planet's religions are total bullshit.\" \n\n", "I guided my character to the peak of the game's tallest mountain.\n\nThe sky was the same as always. The map beneath me was the same as always. I took a glance at my friends list. All 4 of them were online, playing on the same server. I was one of those people with few people on my friends list. I didn't really like having it all cluttered, I didn't want it to be filled with 60 people who are barely online.\n\nIn-game, the sun just began to rise a few minutes ago, and the view from the mountain made it most beautiful. I felt a sort of sadness, but mixed in with that sadness was a feeling I wasn't able to describe. Oddly enough... I felt happy, maybe relieved would be the best way to put it. The feeling was something I couldn't accurately describe in words.\n\nMy friends eventually reached the top of the mountain with me. We mostly sat around in silence, with the occasional \"trip down memory lane\".\n\nI glanced at my character's inventory and level.\n\nLevel 61. Inventory was cluttered, filled with completely useless objects. Seeds? Seriously? I feel like some of the items in the game were made only to fill up your inventory and mess with it.\n\n\"7 Minutes left.\" said Adam. I could barely see it in the chat, all of it was just cluttered with around 90 players talking to each other. Some made these last minutes count, doing as much as they could in these last few moments. Some just sat in silence like us, waiting behind their computers for the timer to hit zero.\n\nAnother 4 minutes of silence, along with one more trip down memory lane.\n\n10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1.\n\n0.\n\nI looked at my screen for a few moments, waiting for me to be force logged out.\n\nMy other friends weren't behind me anymore, and my inventory was empty. The chat was absolutely silent.\n\n1/100 players.\n\nI walked off the mountain, I couldn't kill any enemies along the way, I had no weapon, nope, not even the starting weapon. My character literally had nothing equipped, was this even a model in the game? I never thought that something like that might have happened, I never tried throwing away any weapons unless I had a stronger weapon that I just received. I actually thought that throwing away the first weapon was impossible unless you had another one, though to be fair I never tried. Another odd little detail I noticed was that my pets were gone.\n\nAll my horses, dogs, slimes. Gone.\n\n[I'll finish writing this up later. This is my second ever story on this subreddit, so it'd be nice to have some constructive criticism.]", "_REMINDER: The servers will be shut down at 11:59 PM EST. Thank you for your patronage. Don’t forget to check out MONSTERS AND ALIENS and use the code DDMMOEND for a 30% discount off your first three months!_\n\nVeronica sneered at the message on the login portal as her username “AminaV” sat preloaded, awaiting her password. She had played Dungeon Crawlers since its beta-testing, recruited friends and met new ones, and been a co-leader of the guild for five years. That username, without numbers or using numbers as letters, was a badge of honor; it was proof of her loyalty and seniority in this fictional world. Ignoring the reminder from the maintenance team, she typed her the same password she had used for the last five years and hit enter. \n\nThe screeching of bats, the roar of a chawkas worm, and the screaming of goblins confirmed her password was correct as the screen faded to black and the logo loaded. On most days, it was a strange sound of comfort; one that could bring a smile to her face on her worst of days. She tapped the image of her character when it loaded, the well-decorated and armored dark elf, whose backstory was elaborate and written in multiple stories saved to her desktop. Reaching out for the headset, she placed it over her head and positioned the mic close to her mouth, ready for the final battle her guild would take on. Her eyes became focused as the last location she had signed off on appeared and the invite to the group immediately popped. She clicked it and smiled as the familiar usernames appeared on the side of the screen.\n\n“Hey guys,” she quietly greeted and a roar of male voices cheered her appearance. She smiled sadly, unable to separate this happy moment from the fact that it was the last. \n\n“Amina, we’re ready to go,” the voice known as Hedronis the Great announced and the other voices settled down. “We’ve got one hour to blow through the adds and kill this sucker, so let’s make it good. Ugs, you recording?” \n\n“Yeah,” the voice Veronica had known for three years now as Ugs replied. \n\n“Good. Salve, you’re the main healer, Jer, you’re the secondary. I’ll be the main tank, Amina you can dodge tank the adds,” Hedronis went through the motions, though largely unnecessary at this point. Veronica nodded, despite knowing no one could see her. He rambled on about a few more things out of habit, even starting to touch on loot, though his voice trailed off as he seemed to realize that was useless. Veronica’s eyes flashed to her phone where she checked the time and frowned again. \n\n“Let’s start already,” another voice complained as he interrupted, and the group avatars began jumping in agreement. It seemed someone else had thought on their limited time as well. Hedronis agreed and the raid began. \n\nIt took about ten minutes for the negative thoughts to begin to vanish. Veronica began smiling and laughing with the group as they complained about healers pulling agro, or the adds being too dumb to effectively pull. No one brought up the topic of losing this world they had built together and this group of friends. No one even brought up a possible substitute. They simply continued through the raid they had done hundreds of times before, continuing on as if nothing were different. The hour flew by and despite each member of this raid having memorized it, it still look 40 minutes to get to the main boss. \n\nThe boss was the Queen of the Underdark, Yzykl, who at half health would call her pet spider, Lyrvn. When the boss made her distinct call for the creature, Veronica was able to position her avatar in the perfect spot to pull agro. She prepped her special archer ability and slammed on the 9 key when the creature appeared. Drawing the spider to her, she activated her advanced dodge mode which lasted thirty seconds.\n\n“Take her down!” Veronica shouted into the mic as she activated it, and smiled as the team descended upon the spider. Hedronis kept the Queen busy with him and Salve stood between the two groups, keeping various players at three-quarter to full health. “Get back!” she shouted again as she could see the spider gear up for her mass attack; all the avatars ran backwards out of the area of effect, including Veronica, who readied her archer ability once again. As Jer sent a healing spell while they were waiting, the spider’s attention turned to him and Veronica slammed the 9 again, grabbing its attention.\n\n“Good job,” Hedronis’ voice rang out and Veronica smiled as her character jumped back into the fray. Within seconds, the spider was down and the group could once again focus on the main boss. Her health was rapidly declining and like a graceful dance, the avatars would move in and out at appropriate times to avoid her area of effect attacks. To Veronica, it was beautiful. \n\nYzykl’s health declined from 15% to 10% in under a minute, then 9, 8, 7, 6… \n\n_Ugs has disconnected._\n\n“What happened?” she asked, her eyes darting to the greyed image of Ugs’ avatar. \n\n_Salve has disconnected._\n\nHer stomach turned; she looked to her phone and realized they hadn’t been watching the time. It was exactly 11:59 and in rapid succession, the other members of the group were kicked out.\n\n“No!” she shouted in frustration and slammed her hands on the keyboard. “NO!” \n\nTears swarmed in her eyes near immediately from the anger and frustration she was overwhelmed with; the moderators could see, they had to see they were nearly completed, and didn’t bother to wait the few extra minutes to let them finish the fight. She leaned back in her chair, pressing the palms of her hands against her eyes, trying to fight back the tears. She reminded herself it was just a game, trying to quell the emotional response, but it wasn’t working. She knew it was more than a game: it was her social circle, her hobby, her entertainment. She was going to have to start all over again. \n\n“_We don’t have to fight anymore, Amina.\"_\n\nVeronica froze. That voice came from her headset, to which she had assumed she had been disconnected. It was a familiar voice, one she had recently heard; a scripted voice that summoned her pet spider. Slowly, she lifted her hands from her face and saw that not only was she still connected to the server, but the boss, her health still at 5%, was standing in front of her character. \n\n“W-what?” Veronica stuttered out loud, her hands frozen in the air, unsure of what was going on or what to do. \n\n“_The aggressors are gone. We can live in peace now.\"_\n\n“What the hell is going on?” she asked out loud again, instinctually looking around the room, though knowing perfectly well she was alone. \n\n“_I have ended the war.\"_\n\nThe avatar of the Queen motioned her arms around the room where the fight had been taking place. Knowing what the room looked like, Veronica didn’t feel compelled to turned the view point. She also found herself so jarred and bothered that her hands were cold and shaking. Her stomach felt sick, like she might vomit any second, as her thoughts races of what could be going on. Naturally, she fell on the worst possible scenario: the developers were making fun of her. The game moderators must have looked at her account and seen she had been playing for so many years, and so many hours, that they decided to make fun of her. \n\n“You know what?” she said into the mic as she grabbed it, bringing it closer to her mouth. “This is – this is cruel! You can just fuck off, okay?” \n\n“_Amina_,” the voice stated and just that single word made her pause, because she could hear the hurt in the voice. Grimacing at the screen, Veronica leaned forward to look at the image of the Queen. She had ¬_frowned¬_. \n\n“What the…” Veronica’s voice trailed off and the Queen placed a hand on her chest.\n\n“_I wanted to tell you sooner. This was the only way.\"_\n\nVeronica swallowed and once again looked around the room, this time for a camera. She had shifted now from being angry could be an elaborate prank to wishing it were. \n\n“O-okay, you’ve got me,” she quietly stated with an awkward laugh, smiling for a camera that wasn’t there. “Good one.” \n\n“_Amina, you are my daughter. My heir to this kingdom.\"_\n\nVeronica ripped the headphones from her head and threw them at the monitor. She jumped back in the chair, causing it to roll as she jumped to her feet, her heart racing. That was her story. Her backstory. Amina was an orphaned dark elf who entered into the battle to kill the Queen, not knowing she was her mother. It had been the latest release of the game, and she hadn’t finished the story. She had been intending to write the part when she finds out, but when the company announced the decommissioning of the game, she lost her motivation. \n\n“NO!” she screamed at the monitor and she ran forward, heaving the table to the side. \n\n“_Please don’t leave me_,” the voice called out loudly through the headphones. Veronica screamed, reaching her hand down to the power strip and ripped it from the wall. The room fell silent as the hum of the computer’s fans died down, yet she was deafened by the thumping of her heart. Shaking, she slumped against the wall and slid down to a seated position, wrapping her arms around her legs. She swallowed as she started to calm, her breathing returning to a normal pace, and her eyes moved up to the black screen. \n\nWith the adrenaline subsiding, she wondered to herself… could she have continued playing? Alone? Could she have reigned as Queen over the Underdark and continued to have this game, but now all to herself? \n\nSlowly, her now steadier hand reaching for the power strip, and plugged it back into the wall...", "Virtual reality.\n\nIt was one of those things people had thought about, wished for, and never quite managed. There was just so much to cover: Too much. The senses of sight, smell, taste, touch, sounds... but then there were the lesser feelings: Of gravity, of pain and pleasure, of even that creeping sensation of unease that you only seem to feel on a dark night, on a dark road, when the pressure of eyes watching pierces between your shoulders. \n\nWhen you know something isn't quite right.\n\nHow long it took for those things to be perfected? I'm truly not certain. Hundreds of years? More? It didn't matter much to me, all of that ancient history; because I was born in the age of the Enhanced. Where the real world was optional, and you could choose another.\n\nTo me, there was nothing about this reality that was virtual.\n\n...\n\n----\n\n...\n\n\n\"I won't forget you, John.\" \n\nThe elf sitting across the table from me had bowed low, green cloth of silk and fern catching in the dark lit room of the guild hall. All around us, there were empty chairs: Chains of rank and name still hanging where they had been left. She and I were the last.\n\n\"I won't forget you either, Elise.\" \n\nMy voice caught on that reply, sinking slowly in my chest. \n\n\"I won't forget any of you.\"\n\nHer tan face and thin lips pulled into a smile, as pale hands lifted the chain from her neck, slowly drawing it along to drop lightly on the chair while she stood. Those soft palms held there against the wood, pressing it in as her mind fell into deeper thoughts, quiet and reflective.\n\nWhen she did speak again, the words came slowly, with true finality.\n\n\"May the sun forever shine upon your face, and may Justice be always found where you are near.\"\n\nOur Guild's Creed. \n\nI knew I was crying, but she didn't see me. Her own eyes were blinded by the same, if not worse.\n\n\"Goodbye John.\"\n\n\nThere was no ceremony, no flash of brilliance to show what she had been, what I had known her to be. For all her great deeds, the heroic acts, and the beauty she had brought to this world. No, when she disappeared, Elise simply did not exist any longer. She was gone.\n\nFor all the proof of my truest and most trusted friend in this world, there was only a chain of metal draped upon an empty seat. \n\n\"Goodbye Elise.\"\n\nI was alone.\n\n...\n\n----\n\n...\n\nWhen I was younger, I had lived in the world outside. A place that had never welcomed me, and a place that I did not welcome in return. The air was filth, the people corrupt, and the sky was always gray- clouded by smog and gas. After my injury, I began to retreat from it.\n\nThere was no place for me, in such a world. There was nothing of value there for me. I turned inward, I worked in quiet solitude and took my settlement of credits to secure a new world instead. A world I could make my own.\n\nThe New World, as it were.\n\nEffort and meticulous planning, patience and no small number of no small sacrifices: That was what had earned me a place in this land. \n\nA single room, rented and funded by a trust, established for my name alone. Within that room was a deep immersion pod, of the longest-lasting and most capable variety: Complete with sustenance and filtered gel. In this, at the age of twenty five, I had given up my rights to life beyond those four walls. I gave up my life in the world outside, and locked myself away within the that cocoon, telling no one.\n\nThat was easier than one might imagine. There was no one left to inform. \n\nFor the first time in my life, I had complete control- but as it always seemed to be the case, I had none of it all the same. In that place, I had lived, that old world of technology, money, greed and stale air... The only wonder it had ever produced that held value, was the gateway for my mind. \n\nThe technology driven by others so desperate to escape it, that they had made it possible after god-only-knows how many hundreds of years.\n\nA door for my mind to pass through, and live a different life in a place unfamiliar. Far from the tainted skies, the crushing essence of urban expansions, and pressing greed. A world where the Guild has grown around me, and friends had turned to family. Where monsters roamed, Humanity fought, and legends were made from flesh and blood. A place I had hoped to live until the end.\n\nA place that I had thought I might. If only. \n\nIf only...\n\nIf I were to awaken from this world, and be forced back into the reality that lay beyond it... I still couldn't walk, I could barely lift my arms. The accident had left me a husk of what I'd once been, and no amount of wishing or sobbing could bring me back to normal. The only place I could feel alive, was here. The New World. To even consider going back... no, I couldn't bear the thought of going back to that existence. \n\nThis was where I was free, where I was truly alive: But in five minutes... No, four now... In Three minutes and fifty seven seconds, my world would end.\n\nMy world would end. \n\nI was alone.\n\nWith a heavy sigh, my legs pushed me from the chair of wood, as I turned- bearing witness to the empty hall. The Guild's tavern was empty, fifty seats bearing only their silent memorial of chains; the room's only true occupants beyond myself. The metal and plate of my own came and laid with the rest in simple fashion as I stepped away.\n\nNo ceremony worthy of it, by any means, but with none to witness but myself I supposed that no ceremony was required. If any, I alone, knew what that necklace of silver and plate meant to its owner. That was what mattered in the end, wasn't it?\n\nIt was the end, after all. This was it for me. A glance at the focused logs in my mind's eyes brought the timer back to clear vision.\n\nTwo minutes, thirty eight seconds.\n\nThe impulse to run pressed at me, as if I could escape the countdown by fleeing. Where would I go? Out into the streets? Surrounded by the faces of this city's NPC, as I fled something no one could escape?\n\nIf they had the minds to understand it, I wonder if they might run with me- knowing what I know: That the world is about to end, not with a bang, but with a whisper. That the universe itself is about to be pulled out, like a rug beneath their feet, and nothing but empty black would remain.\n\nNothing.\n\nBefore I knew it, I truly was running. The shouts and voices of surprised from those I passed, almost enough to break me from my thoughts. The NPC had always been so real, so genuine in this place. Their pseudo-realness made it feel safe, beautiful even- but now it only added to the despair.\n\nFifty seconds, and my feet had cleared the mud and dirt, to enter cobblestones. Rough and solid rock beneath my feet pressing back with every bit of force I hammered into them. My leather boots giving and taking the weight of my frame, as the sword clattered beneath my veteran grip- held to my side even as I sprinted towards the higher city.\n\n\"You! Stop or Cease!\" \n\nA guard shouted at me as I shouldered past him, pressing onto the stairs that would take me upward, higher.\n\nI had to go higher, to the battlements: To watch the sunrise one last time over the Great Bastion of Nekamtol, To witness the final seconds of this world in all their glory.\n\nThe final seconds of my world.\n\nTen seconds.\n\nPanting, I cleared the final pitch, twisting around the turn of the tower stairs to step out onto the high-rise and turn to face the east. There it was.\n\nLike dragon's teeth, the mountains held together along the horizon as the light lifted behind them like a breath of flame, heat reaching out to touch my face- even in the chill wind of the wall-top. There it was. In all of its glory, the world that had taken me in when I had nothing left.\n\nI would forever be grateful. I would never repay what it had given me: All I could do was bear silent witness, and thank it.\n\nFive seconds.\n\nFour Seconds.\n\nThree Seconds.\n\nTwo Seconds.\n\nOne.\n\n...\n\nThe air lifted, rising high under the heat of the sun, rooftops of the lower city now illuminated with soft hues of green and red stone, copper and sands. A Monastery bell ran out, soft chimes holding to the wind as I held there, disbelieving the reality around me.\n\nI was still here?\n\nSlowly, my mind reach out, checking for the logs- ready to confirm the obvious. Was the game still online? Was this simply limbo, waiting for the dark?\n\nNo logs appeared in my mind's eye. No mappings, explanations, or windows of text could be found. Staring at my hands, I felt them close against the battlement's stone edge, thick granite rough and textured beneath my skin.\n\nIt would end, I knew it. Soon it would end, even if there had been some delay or glitch, I couldn't let this moment be ruined in my mind. I wanted to focus and embrace it, for all that it was.\n\nFootsteps and exhausted panting came into the background, echoing slightly off the hollow tower and stairs behind me. \"\n\n\"Stop-Haa... Stop, or Cease Trespasser!\" \n\nThe Guard's voice was haggard, as he pressed out onto the rounded balcony of the battlement. I turned, eyes wide as he stepped closer- armor immaculate with the colors of Nekamtol's Royal guard. Was he breathing heavy? Was that Normal?\n\n\"Stop, or I'll-haa, be forced... to Arrest You!\"\n\nHe stared at me, and I stared at him. Slowly, his sword hand reached for the blade, but he did not draw- clearly assessing if I was truly a threat.\n\nWas that normal?\n\nI could smell the scents of sweat, feel the exhaustion in my calves from the stairs run only a short while ago- taste the flow of pollen from the Royal orchards. More than that, though, I could sense a nagging feeling, that something was different... Something was wrong.\n\nLike when you're walking down a dark road, on a dark night, and there are eyes piercing into your shoulders.\n\nI opened my mouth to speak, just as he drew his sword.\n\n\"Oh Shit.\"\n\n...\n\nEdit: Misspellings/Grammar/thank you for reading" ]	4
	[WP] Each planet has a Heaven and Hell. You just died on Mars.	[ "They were wrong. The scientists, theologians, atheists; they were all wrong. I've spent what feels like an eternity wandering this distorted version of what I was led to believe heaven would be like. For all I know, this could be Hell. But if that's the case then Dante was way off the mark. \n\nThis place is filled with... well, pretty much nothing. No clouds to walk on, no angels with harps or repentant killers who accepted Christ on their deathbed. The afterlife is an incredibly boring place, no other humans, no animals, and no real changes in the scenery. \n\nThe only thing that even changes are the colors on the floor and the weird haze which fills this... I don't know what to even call it, room? Is a room still a room if it never ends? I think I see a ceiling, or maybe I'm going insane. The three weeks I spent alone in the base before my water ran out didn't exactly do wonders for my mental health.\n\nI'm tired of wandering. Of going everywhere while getting nowhere. I'm just gonna lay down for a bit, maybe a few years or whatever measure of time this place has, or lack of one. \n\nThe haze was always so thick I rarely actually saw the floor. Sure I've seen it a few dozen times but it never kept my attention. I mean, why would it? But now... Down here the colors are amazing. Vibrant and alive like nothing I had seen since I was back home. Before all this.\n\nThe colors mesmerized me and I wanted nothing more than to be enveloped within them. I pushed my face to the ground in the hope of escaping and... What is that? Something's moving. I stayed still and focused on the moving shapes beneath me, on a large green speck. Are those... creatures? And tiny houses? Tiny specks flying around with contrails? \n\nFuck. I've been stepping on these things. I wonder where their God is... ", "\"AAAHHGHHHhhhh???\"\n\nWait, I was just burning a second ago, and my Reentry Pod was at too steep an angle and about to smash into the red dust below...\n\nWhere am I?\n\n\nIts really dark, and cold. The wind, oh it's so loud... It sounds like the howling of a deranged beast\n\n\"Welcome.\"\n\n\"Oh what the fuc-\" I spun around and met eye to... eyes? Of a, oh that is most certainly not a man, um, a thing? It's small beady pebble like eyes shined in this all consuming darkness...From what light source I do not know...\n\n\"Umm, Thanks? Wait, uh, who are you?\"\n\nI couldn't see his mouth, but his voice was eerily clear\n\n\"You may call me Mazith, and I am the gate keeper. It appears you are not fully aware of your... condition\"\n\n\"My condition??? What are you taking about? I seem fin- AHH\"\n\nAs I looked down at my hands, I only saw many cracks, and embers...flowing? Underneath what had been my skin...\n\nAs I stared at the glowing lines and sparks, the... Mazith? Walked forward, we lowered his gaze, to my chest.\n\n\"Hmm, you do not appear to be from this world. Are you perhaps from Terra?\"\n\nI looked up at him, he appeared bigger somehow, not only taller, but larger. Terra? Old latin classes long forgotten flashed back for a glimpse of the answer.\n\n\"Uh, Terra... Do you mean Earth? Yeah, I do come from Earth, I was traveling to Mars as a part of a research expedition, then the Hydrazine cells overheated and exploded, then- Stab URKk cough\"\n\nI looked down, and gazed at the spike driven through my chest, it looked like a scorpion tail, a giant one\n\n\"Terrian, you have made a foolish choice to come to Mars.\"\n\nAs I gasped, and tugged at the tail, I felt the ground open up beneath me\n\n\"Wait, what, why?\"\n\nThe creature that now towered over me, face unchanging, glared down into my eyes\n\n\"You have trespassed on holy ground, and must now be cast into the darkness, may the gods pardon your soul.\"\n\nWith those last few words I felt a jolt as the tail flicked me downwards, and then I felt nothing but the wind wrap around me, with the same howl as earlier, the seemingly never ending abyss below.\n\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are an Archeologist. Somehow you've found evidence of Noah's Ark, and evidence that dinosaurs were put onto it. The Ark does not look human built.	[ "Part (1/2)\n\n\nWe found ourselves in the Ararat Mountains deep in the Turkmen lands of the Ottoman Empire. The pack animals had long since refused to venture forward and the natives we had hired to replace them were increasingly wary of our progress. Indeed, those whom we told of our goal refused to be hired and even appeared to warn others, steering them away from us. The treasure we offered was no small amount, for we knew that when uncovered that which we sought treasure and honors would fall upon us like rain. But no amount of treasure moved the natives. One morning after an unsuccessful attempt to recruit carriers, our Captain informed us that the savages came to him in the night, blade at his throat, and ordered him to leave — not just the squalid hovel town, but Ararat and Ottoman Turkey altogether. We left and felt ourselves followed, though there was no sign of pursuing Turkmen. Those in the company pleaded with the Captain to post scouts, and he eventually obliged. The scouts we sent out behind us in the night found nothing, but did report distant mumblings in strange tongues and what sounded like footsteps passing by their posts, yet no source of this sound was ever found.\n\n\nWe had better luck hiring carriers in the next towns by simply offering trinkets and small bits of valuable metal. The mixture of ignorance and relative desperation of this particular village netted us two and a half dozen carriers, far more than we needed, for a few bits of jewelry and the last of our pack animals who would likely be slaughtered for meat. We did not tarry long enough to find out.\n\n\nWe pressed into the mountains, guided by the Captain. Lord Ethan Bell, once a member of the Royal Society, was the man we called ‘Captain’ largely because he told us where to go and kept our purses full. Lord Bell had been a luminary in the Society, particularly in Egyptology, Archeology, and had been a founding member of the now dwindling field of Theosophy. His obsession with Ararat had been sparked by that work published by Charles Darwin The Descent of Man, which suggested that man arose from ancient ape, and, together with his The Origin of Species, implied that the forces which formed man as he is were no different from those which had guided flies or bats or other nameless beasts. The idea so infuriated the Captain that no fewer than three score hateful and vitriolic letters were published in newspapers and journals against Mister Darwin; such was the fury held in those letters that even John Stuart Mill and Samuel Wilberforce, no friends to Mister Darwin assuredly, published admonishments against Lord Ethan Bell. Stripped of his membership to the Royal Society, Lord Bell spent is fortune in pursuit of the one thing that would make him feel complete: the utter destruction of Charles Darwin. He would start by striking from history the proposition of gradual change over time. He would to it by proving true the story that is known to all, the story of Noah’s Ark. He would find the Ark and in it the records or remains of animals as they are and as they have always been, perhaps even notes written by hoary Noah himself, or so we guessed. Lord Bell would bring these to the Royal Society, vindicate himself, and cast Charles Darwin back into the darkness of obscurity.\n\n\nI myself was driven by a more basic motive, greed. Lord Ethan Bell summoned us to his estate not more than six months before the expedition. His home was barren, the walls were devoid of artwork, the chandeliers had been taken down, no doubt sold to afford the extravagant salary offered the hired company. What was bizarre were the things left behind. On pedestals throughout the home were strange statues of faceless creatures mounted on slanted plinths with inexplicable scratching. The statues themselves were unnerving, but what was odder still was how they looked into every door and peered down every hallway. They had no eyes, and yet one could still feel them watching as we moved through the house to the drawing room where he would describe our journey. Standing beside him was a misshapen, vaguely Oriental man whose gaze upset me when it fell upon me. He gave Lord Ethan Bell the map which would guide us to the Ark.\n\n\nFor days we continued our ascent of the Ararat Mountains, the summit coming no closer as time progressed. Trust was beginning to wane among those of us out of England, for none of us had seen this map, though our doubts silenced by the fatness of our ledgers back home. Surely we were walking in circles. Our natives began to abandon us, thankfully not taking much with them. Given our suspicions and the lightness of the deserters’s load, we surmised that we were not far from the village. Night after night, the natives would vanish, one or two at a time, still taking nothing with them save what they carried on themselves. We continued receiving reports from our scouts of disembodied footsteps and strange voices, and soon even those in the camp were hearing them. “Ia,” the voice called to us.\n\n\nOne morning, the remaining natives had simply vanished. All in the camp looked nervously at each other save the Captain who looked serene. Wether the natives had simply gone home, or someone or something with the night voices had taken them, it was becoming clear to those in the company that perhaps we should take our leave as well. One of the scouts, Elias, confided in me his desire to desert. During his night posts he would venture far from his picket and draw maps of where we were. He assured me that he would need both of us for the escape, one to scout ahead and one to carry supplies. We could be back in Istanbul within the week and in London soon after, free to spend the king’s ransom that waited for us. He would be posted as scout that night, and that is when he would come for me. I need only gather the supplies on the list and wait in my tent.\n\n\nI sat up in my tent that night checking our supplies: a sack stuffed with dry rations, six canteens, two pistols, and enough ammunition to convert a division into a bloody pulp. The ammunition was heavy, but something Elias had seen or heard convinced him that we would need it. He did not come for me that night. The Captain did not leave his tent, and so we did not move the following day, and Elias did not return the next night either. I grew uneasy. The amount of supplies I had hoarded would surely have marked me as a deserter, and one of the other men who had been caught deserting was sent to the Captain’s tent and had not emerged for the greater part of the day. I did not see Elias or the other deserter after that. The mountain voices grew louder in the nights such that I could not sleep, “Ia ia,” it called. I dared not peek my head out lest I be caught by the scouts who now seemed more concerned with keeping the company in, than keeping other things out.\n\n\nOne morning a scout returned with an extra bag over his shoulder. It was Elias’s. I fumed for a moment, believing he had left without me, but the blood that soaked his canvas satchel convinced me otherwise. I watched the scout put his things down before entering the Captain’s tent and he made a strange and decidedly un-Christian genuflection and the bowed before the Captain’s tent before entering. I checked to see that no one was watching and carried the bag back to my tent. Inside I found a journal and a scout’s map, it appeared rough, but with it and the journal I believed I could surely make my own way to Istanbul and the civil world of London. I had barely a moment to look at the the map when an almost inhuman voice boomed through the camp, “FIND THE MAP! TURN THE CAMP UPSIDE DOWN IF YOU HAVE TO!” It was the Captain’s voice but there was something altogether different behind it. I heard the scrambling of footsteps as some of the company tried to take off into the brush, I was not the only one planning escape. I had just thought this was the perfect cover to make my own exit when shots fired from the Captain’s tent. Flanked by scouts, the Captain fired into the camp, killing the cook who was stuffing a sack with food. The scouts on either side began firing as well. I starred at him, Lord Ethan Bell, our Captain, a former member of the Royal Society, not simply firing upon, but murdering men in his care. I knew his obsession with Darwin and the Ark ran deep, but to cold-blooded murder? Killing indiscriminately for no other reason than anger? I did not have long to think on this when I saw him, or it, standing just behind the Captain. I knew his hunched, twisted, misshapen form almost immediately — the Oriental. He looked as though in a trance when he lifted his arm from the mass of flesh and bone that made his cruel body. His blank eyes turned towards me, his face twisted into a demoniacal grin and he pointed at me. The Captain shouted something unintelligible and the scouts fired on me. I scrambled back into my tent, grabbing the escape pack I had made days before and Elias’s scouting satchel. I grabbed one of the pistols and fired through my tent as I bolted into the scrubland. The Captain and his scouts came upon me with supernatural speed, almost as though gliding over the rocky ground. They had dropped their guns and pursued me with long twisted knives, a horrendous screaming erupted behind me, “IA IA! IA IA!” the sound washed around me, “IA IA!” I felt the avalanche of noise fall upon me, driving me into the ground. They would have cut me to pieces were it not for the Turkmen opening fire on them, turning then back to the now burning camp.\n\n\nWith the Turkmen I found no reprieve, for once they had rummaged through Elias’s bag they turned their guns on me and did not lower their sights until they were far enough away that I could not follow.", "\"I think we better summon the Lieutenant.\" said the archaeologist. His assistant ran off towards the lift. James stared in awe at the crystalline structure that now protruded from the frozen tundra. \n\nThe anomaly had been spotted thanks to a combination of improvements in American satellite capabilities and recent record temperatures that had removed a top sheet of ice. Something was there. It was a great distance down but the black smudge on the topological satellite imagery was unmistakeably man made. Theories was raised and refuted. Perhaps a ship had sunk in the ocean and found a way under the Arctic sheet - an unaccounted relic from the war. It was doubtful. In fact, the only thing the government had decided for sure was that this discovery was not getting out until they knew more about it.\n\nAfter nine months of excavations and over a hundred blunted titanium drill bits, something had been unearthed.\n\nA tall man in a military uniform left the nearby barracks that had been hastily assembled and headed over to the site. He got into the lift and proceeded down. As was routine, the lift stopped for twenty minutes every fifty feet for acclimatisation purposes. He got through a lot of cigarettes. Eventually, the lift doors clunkily opened and he stepped out. He walked down a few hastily carved steps get to the most recent dig site.\n\n\"You asked for me profess- Holy shit!\" said Lieutenant James Bradberry in amazement.\n\n\"We unearthed it early this morning. It's a type of crystal - some kind of ionized quartz. It's hollow.\"\n\n\"What's in side?\"\n\n\"Your guess is as good as mine.\"\n\n\"Well break it open, I want to see what the fucks its hiding.\"\n\n--------\n\nIt was a slow process. Professor Michael Kennedy had been against it from the start. \"This might be a historic moment for archaeology. It should be excavated fully and documented with due diligence. Besides, you don't know what is in there. Do you really want to unleash an ancient plague?\"\n\nJames momentarily considered this last sentence but he had his orders. \n\nMore drills bits snapped, each boring a hole perhaps half an inch thick. Michael had won a small battle by stopping the lieutenant from using explosives. \"This far down! Are you mad - you will kill us all!\"\n\nEventually, they pierced a hole through the buildings crystal skin. James shone his military flash-light through the tiny fissure. He squinted as he tried and make out what lay within the shadowy interior. He thought he could make out a large bone.\n\n\"Professor, take a look here. What do you make of it?\"\n\nJames moved away and Michael took the torch and leaned in.\n\n\"Its a tremendously large fibular. Possibly from a Woolly Mammoth - they roamed these parts only 10,000 years ago. But, well, if it was a Mammoth it will be amongst the largest we have found. No, more likely a dinosaur fibular. Possibly an Apatosaurus.\n\n\"Well how the hell did a Apatosaurus bone find its way inside this structure.\"\n\n\"Perhaps someone put it there?\" suggested Michael.\n\nWhen he got back to the barracks James phoned his superiors and reported his findings. \n\n\"Not enough to be certain sir. Yes sir, we can get someone through in a matter of days.\" \n\nThe drilling went on for three full days. Eventually there was just enough of a gap for a man to crawl through. James went first, followed closely by the nervous archaeologist.\n\nThe room was like nothing either man had seen before. The spherical walls inside were covered in a black goo that reminded Michael of an oozing membrane. The chamber floor was like a graveyard. Bones lay strewn everywhere. A hundred different species. Two sets of some of the bones. There was evidence of carnivorous activity, like the animals had eaten each other until there was only one left. Had it been a ship transporting animal cargo, but it had got stuck in the ice? That would make sense if not for the larger bones.\n\nThere was a shaft in the centre of the room. James shone his light down it. The hole went deeper than he was able to make out, but he could see that every 20 or so feet there were more chambers coming off it. Was each chamber like this?\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] Your cat is a secret agent sworn to protect you. Your cat doesn't know you know.	[ "After a really hectic day , answering client questions about why their \"silver laptop\" is not booting up, I reached my home to find it in complete mayhem ,again. As with all the days when I find my home being the holy grail of entropy, I wasn't greeted by my lovely black Siberian cat Panthera who was instead sleeping silently on my bed.\n\nI went to pet her and as I waved my hand over her lovely black fur, it revealed a scar. It is getting out of hand. These fights with some G-men are escalating. I am a simple IT worker who loves his job and has been working on a home project to solve SHA-3.\n\nProbably the \"suits\" are NSA and the cat is Russian. I can't say for sure. I have never talked to the cat about this.\n\n<A fortnight later>\nWell, the project is coming real good and I think I might have cracked SHA-3 encryption. This is going to revolutionize the world of encryption. Now, there is only one thing left.\n\nI booked a ticket out of the country. I took my cat in my car and on the way to the airport a car started following us. I pretended if nothing was happening. Two cars blocked my way. I stopped the car and looked surprised. My cat jumped out of the car. I followed her and she threw a handkerchief at me and pointed towards my nose. I looked totally astonished and put the handkerchief on my nose and from her thick black fur she took out a vial of green colored liquid and threw on the ground. Some gaseous substance released and all the G-men fainted. \n\nShe told me, \"Hurry up! I will explain on the way\".\n\nI got in the car and immediately drove towards the airport. After baggage checking we got in my private plane (I made a lot of money after selling a small company in college) and she started explaining me how she was sent by the Russian govt. to protect me and she had to take me to Russia.\n\nI looked totally amazed and was talking to her about everything in detail. I thanked her profusely for saving my life multiple times and out of my pocket I took out a chocolate and offered her.\n\nShe ate it happily. \n\nA few seconds later, she started choking and and with stuffed voice asked me to help her.\n\nAnd I responded \"You think I will work for Russia. I actually am a scientist in NSA and the people you fought were there to kill you , not me. Now die you piece of shit!\"\n\nAnd her big eyes grew even bigger than they were . She tried to claw me . I held her claw and she died in my arms.\n", "What does keeping someone safe mean?\n\nWhen you sacrifice yourself to save someone?\nWhen you kill every one that endangers that person? \nWhen you do everything you are ordered?\nNo. \n\nEven simplest act of killing a cockroach for your friend can qualify as saving him/her. The simplest acts by someone can have more meaning than we can imagine. Keeping someone safe means doing everything you can to make sure that person is never in danger. \n\nNever in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that my little Clunkers was even capable of having such a thought. So when I found out that my little kitty is actually sworn to protect me from all dangers, I started thinking all the times the he did something out of the blue to make my life easier. The time he chased a rat out of my room. The time he comforted me when my dad died. \n\nThat makes me wonder, how he can understand what I am thinking. So this makes me wonder about l make excuses I use to get out of stuff. All the lies I make up to for not being there for my friends. The truth is very simple. I simply didn't want to be there. My cat made me realize that. I am forever grateful to my cat.", "They approached, bent wretched shapes in the shadows. Their breathing were loud and shallow hisses, growing ever louder. I was surrounded, with no means of escape. \n\nIf only I could fly. I thought, looking at the blue moon. There was no hope. My friends and family had perished in the battle and we had lost. I was the last and so tired of fighting. The shadows grew closer. A claw grabbed me by my leg and all turned dark.\n\nI jolted awake in my bed, my damp wet hair sticking to my face and neck. I touched my pillow and it felt squishy and cold. Disgusted, I jerked my hand back. There wasn't anything I could do about my hair. \n\nA noise in the alley got my attention. Looking through the window, my heart skipped a beat when I saw my black cat standing on her hind limbs. 3 shadow creatures from my dream approached her, moving in an uncomfortably familiar way. Watching them sent goose bumps up my neck.\n\nI wanted to tell her to run away, but stopped myself when she assumed a ready pose. This wasn't the first time she had fought these creatures. \n\nThe first creature rushed her, which she took down with a flurry of claws and a roundhouse kick. The remaining two attacked her together. She bit into the creature and tumbled along with it. A white shape jumped into the fray and took the other. It was another cat.\n\nBoth cats made quick work of the creatures, their claws flashing in the moonlight. The creatures fell and disappeared into black smoke. \n\n\"These creatures are growing more numerous each day, soon we won't be able to deal with them,\" the white cat said. I covered my mouth with my hand.\n\n\"But we have to. She isn't ready yet,\" my cat said.\n\n\"Just another month, then she can assume her powers and duty.\" \n\nMy cat nodded.\n\n\"Does she suspect anything?\" White cat asked.\n\nMy cat shook her head. \"I'd rather she doesn't know until she has to. Let her enjoy this innocence a little bit more.\"\n\nWhite cat smiled. \"You've always been a loyal servant, Luna.\" \n\n\"Thanks for the help tonight, Artemis.\"\n\nWhite cat waved good bye and jumped up onto the roofs of the nearby houses and I got back into my soaked bed and pretended to sleep. ", "I once watched my cat Mittens disarm three fully grown men and then proceed to brutally beat them with his paws curled up into fists for fifteen minutes straight until they were unconscious. For years I've had people come after me. I don't know why. Ever since I turned twenty five I've had assassins follow me down dark alleys, shadow me home after nights out, and generally harass me at every turn with attempts on my life. I tried to go to the police but they were no help; I got the impression they just thought I was some paranoid lunatic who was wasting their time. \n\nAround the point these assholes started gunning for me was when my cat Mittens took on a new role in my life. I've had Mitts for roughly ten years now, so he's getting on, but he's always been fairly docile as long as I've known him. It was only when dudes started trying to kill me all the time that he really came into his own. I watched him claw the eyeballs out of a masked man's head one time, and another time he took some cheesewire and dispatched four would-be assassins using a creative combination of his tail, mouth, and paws. He pretty much follows me everywhere now; obviously, as he has become my sworn protector, I have no issue with this, in fact I feel safer with him after having seen what he is capable of. The difficulty lies in explaining why I allow my fat, fluffy, and grump flat-faced Asian Semi-Longhair cat to follow me wherever I go. \n\nI work in an office cubicle and I must say, it took some convincing to get my boss to allow Mitts on the premises and in my cubicle with me. My co-workers initially made jokes but I paid them no mind; it was better to be known as the mad-cat-man in the office, than the dead one with an assassins katana poking out of his chest. It did affect other aspects of my life too, of course. I went on a date once; she was slightly put-off by the fact I'd brought my cat to the cinema, however it turned out to be a solid move when she suddenly, at a certain point in the evening, pulled a machete from her handbag and made an attempt on my life. After revealing herself to be an assassin Mittens swiftly chocked her out using his tail, a move I'd seen him execute flawlessly numerous times before, and we got ourselves out of there before any further incidents could happen. \n\nMittens acts like a normal cat most of the time when he knows I'm watching; mostly the only time he acts abnormal is when some guy's running at me with a mace or something. Saying that, I have caught him doing other wierd stuff too, on occasion. One time, I heard him tapping away on my laptop keyboard when he thought I was asleep. I remember opening my eye slightly, and seeing the image of him their, his face grave and serious and illuminated by the light of the screen as he went about whatever mysterious business it was he was conducting, his paws slapping at the keys rapidly. I remember thinking, 'What the fuck is my life'. \n\nThen, one night, an assassin came for me that wasn't like the others. I was walking home from work; I'd been in the office late, finishing some spreadsheets. As I took a right and began to head down my road I saw the figure of a cat walking towards me. As it got closer I noticed it begin to walk on it's hind legs, and it was swinging nunchucks from both of it's paws. It was also wearing a balaclava. Mittens jumped between us suddenly. The other cat stopped under a street light, and I could see it's eyes gleaming ominously. \n\n'Galel'drien, you have broken your oath', it hissed, in a high pitched squeak. \n\n'This one is not yours to take, Agron'an, nor the Orders. He is under my protection' replied Mittens in a deep growl. \n\n'Very well. You have made your choice' said the assassin cat with the nunchucks.\n\n'I have' replied Mittens, and, as the two leapt into fierce combat, I wondered, '...maybe I should have gotten a dog'. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n ", "People kind of wonder why Fluffy doesn't like them. People kind of wonder why Fluffy doesn't like me. There are many reasons to keep a cat that doesn't like you, the biggest usually being that you've adopted the animal and have to care for it. \n\nBut in my case, it was because Fluffy was my bodyguard. Literally. \n\nCats are strange. Fluffy looked out for me, jumping on the faces of my friends and hissing at the delivery man, because that was what she had been assigned to do. \n\nI figured it out because Fluffy is an indoor cat. And one day I saw her going outdoors. \"Fluffy!\" She turned her flat little hateful face toward me. \"Bad cat! No going outside.\" She had reluctantly let me pick her up and bring her back inside, but that night I swear she was kneading with a little more claw than was usual. \n\nIt kept happening though. When I was taking a nap or playing WoW I would sometimes notice that Fluffy wasn't around. I would go looking for her, sweetly singing her name and saying here kitty kitty. Here kitty kitty. But she was nowhere to be found. \n\nMy house didn't have a cat door, so a big part of me was just curious how she was getting out. So one day I pretended to read a book and waited for her to get up from my lap and go...wherever she went. \n\nIt turned out she was going next door. They had a cat door next door. I watched from the fence, standing on my tiptoes to be inside. \n\nThe neighbor's cat was, and I know this will sound crazy, talking to my cat. And then it gave my cat a piece of paper. And then my cat turned and came back to my house, giving me just enough time to play the dumb owner again by calling her name and saying, \"Oh baby there you are, mommy was so so worried.\"\n\nYou know how cats purr?\n\nYeah. Fluffy doesn't purr. \n\nAbout ten minutes later when she was curled up for her nap, I went looking for the paper. I found it in her cat tent - probably a place she thought impenetrable. \n\nI read the paper. meow meow meow... Meow meow meeeoooowww. Sssss meow meow meow mrow meow. Meow meow Sophie meow meow Evil Ones meow. Meow...meow meow.\n\nI didn't know who or what the evil ones were. But suddenly it made a lot more sense why Fluffy probably didn't like me. She was some sort of guardian sent to protect me. And I had given her a stupid, clichéd name. \n\nI probably wouldn't have liked me, either. \n\n---\n\nNEXT TIME: who are the \"Evil Ones?\" Why is cat language written in the Roman alphabet? Who's the cat's meow? Find out on the Sophie and Fluffy show. \n\nRead part two at /r/Celsius232" ]	5
An evil wizard fears being cast into hell by his competition in observance of ancient religious laws. So he creates a clone of himself as a sacrifice to absorb the potential aggression. Let's see how this plays out. :)	[WP] An evil wizard fears being cast into hell by his competition in observance of ancient religious laws. So he creates a clone of himself as a sacrifice to absorb the potential aggression.	[ "Trusting others has never been my strong suit. \n\n\nIn the underbelly of the magical world, you either get big, or you get gone. The weak are picked off, nothing more than potion fodder for the strong. Most last only days before they either tip off the authorities or find themselves in the gut of some rival’s leviathan. Some try to form alliances, but at the end of the day, the only person you can trust…is yourself. \n\nI am not like those weaklings. I am strong, and proud. I guarded my secrets jealously against all others, practicing my dark arts only in the depths of my lair. For years I toiled in silence, crafting my greatest works from the bones of the missing dead and the invisibly murdered. Now, I am the most powerful warlock the world has never known. The time has finally come for me to reveal my true strength. \n\nVials of foul-smelling liquid were thrown to the floor in showers of glass as my chamber door burst open. \n\n\n“Hello, Cedric.” Came a drawling female voice from behind me. “We meet at last.”\n\n\nAh! Right on time.I thought, suppressing a smile. I turned dramatically, my cape billowing out behind me. The woman was thin, as most witches were, with hair and eyes as black as her heart. \n\n\n“ Morgana.” I stated simply, allowing my face to slip into an expression of mock surprise. “I wasn’t expecting you here so soon!” \n\n\n“Well, punctuality never was something I was good at.” She smirked. Almost absently, she twirled a blood-red medallion in her right hand. \n\n\n“The Talisman of the Gate!” I stammered. “Where did you get THAT!” So she DID possess it after all!\n\n“Oh…you collect things when you have been around as long as I have.” She caught the gold-bordered ruby in her hand, smile broadening. \n\n\nYeah, right. As if even YOU had the kind of power it would take to pry THAT particular artifact from the devil’s claws. Probably sold your soul for it, centuries ago. Or your body. \n\n“Please!” I fell to my knees. “Anything but that!” \n\n“So you DO know of its power.” She bounced the priceless gem on her palm. “Then you know...for it to stay active, I have to feed it from time to time.” She curled her lip back, revealing filed teeth. “Hell never stays satisfied for long, after all. And it just LOVES strong warlocks like you.” She frowned. “A bit of a one-sided love, it is true. But it makes no difference to me.” She gripped the stone hard, smiling fiercely. \n\n“So how about it, big boy? A few more centuries of youth and power for me, and a VIP ticket to the Pit for you! Seems like a fair trade, everything considered.” She began to chant in an ancient tongue. \n\n“Please! I will do anything!” I yelled as my lab was torn asunder by a sudden wind. Papers flew into the air, artifacts and tomes that had taken centuries to collect were tossed and scattered like ragdolls in the cyclone. Morgana’s eyes glowed a lambent orange as she chanted ever louder, holding the glistening Talisman proudly before her. The floor below my knees began to sink into a depression that I knew would soon open into fire and brimstone. \n\n\n“PLEASE!” I screamed one last time, my cry unheeded. Suddenly, the bottom of my world dropped out below me like a trap door. I was falling, falling into a deep pit from which I knew I could never escape. \n\nI smirked, reaching into my robes and pushing a button. In my second lab, on the other side of the world from the one where Morgan crowed in triumph, a set of strange machinery hummed to life. There was a prickling sensation at the back of my head, and suddenly I gasped for breath from the inside of a liquid-filled crystal tube. With a gesture, the glass shattered, and I stood in the world of the living once again. I flexed my hand experimentally. “Good, good.” I muttered in an unfamiliar voice. “Much stronger than the last one.” I smiled. Closing my new eyes and resting a finger on my temple, I concentrated hard. In the darkness behind my eyes, I saw the portal to my old lab close with an almost depressing finality. Shutting myself off from the lab around me, I twisted my old form so that I was looking down. Far below, hundreds of tortured bodies writhed in agony as their flesh was seared by fire or pierced by cackling demons wielding implements of torture. \n\nExcellent.\n\nI, Cedric Voidborn, was truly the greatest warlock the world had ever known. The world of the living held no secrets from me. But the secrets of Hell? \n\nNow that was a prize worth dying for. \n\n\n**\n\nLike it? Read more stories like this one on /r/TimeSyncs!", "\"Magic is only magic until you understand how it works, then it is a powerful monstrous thing that hold no wonder or amazement.\"\n\nHis teachers words hit his head like an echo from the soul. His vision blurs back into focus and he remembers why he is on the ground. \n\nThe root of the problem was his Illusions spells, you can't live comfortably without a proper knowledge of how to fool the naked eye, and how to make an enchanted one look the other way. He knew it was always his weakpoint as a fully robed Wizard, but he always played it off excessive courage in his scholar days. Of Course The Great Keylio* has no need to hide himself how else is he to make himself one of legend. \n\nBut alas his lack of closing the door to bigger threats has caught up with him, and with a stone Golem no less. To think such a brutish creature could be thought as a challenge to THE GREAT KEYLIO, what an insult. Even if they had the cunning to have it form during his morning meditation, to think such a simple manifestation could be the end is a stain on his pride. \n\nBut it dawns on the wizard as he stands back up in his study hall, that it was simply a warning. The Golem's scattered segments begin to light up as the many ruins on them reveal an ancient writing that Keylio knows too well. The Law, a Wizard above many of the known names of this world, a self residing king of kings, and his personal stationary has appeared glowing so bright its information digs into the thoughts. \n\n> I know what you are planning, \n\n>You can't possibly hope to win\n\n>You did not foresee this, and you\n\n>will not foresee your defeat, only\n\n>watch it unfold in front of you. \n\nThe Wizard feels the adrenaline release in his body, In individual decisive seconds he realizes it is not the words alone that put him at unease. He may not of foreseen the intrusion of the uninvited guest, but he did have the foresight to craft a portal out of his home before the Golem's leftovers turned to bright flame and destroyed his humble abode. \n\nFrom a safe distance he watched his safe heaven explode. He spent years there but it matters not, he was pulling produce from the earth, not planting seeds. Seeds do not grow on desert sands, the grain abyss is where the mighty go to live with no need to worry about the ink in thier pens or the blood on their swords. \n\nThe effective range of capabilities that a tool such as sand allows a magic user is immense. You see, to the rattlers of reality, the ones who do not bow to any written rules in the world do not need the specifics. They do not need large, detailed, diverse, those concepts are malleable to such men, what they need is vast. And any man who has stood there, Alone in the open waste that is a desert, knows how vast it is. \n\nWhen you are entrenched deep in the middle of it, when all directions appear as the same route, and everything that the machine in your head can process is an endless expanse, you understand what that vastness is. The very ground you stand on is not, in its existence, suppose to be ground, its an intangible number of tiny little things that form a construct that simply supports your weight among much else. \n\nAnd when a man is alone in those sands, in the middle of what anyone but the individual there would call nowhere, he is put at nothing more than his own body's worth. So many men would see such an event as being stranded, as being stricken slowly to death by barren lands. \n\nBut Not Keylio. No Not Keylio he has worked to make his form one of worth. He falls to his knees, but not to grovel, to get to work. With 2 hands he scoops the material the earth has blessed him, and he hold both up until a single grain of sand is left in both hands. To understand the vastness is to understand all the sand that escaped his grasp, and to compare with the two that he kept. With no communication, with no drawings or thoughts in this carnation of existence the two individual grains Slam against eachother and make a clap like that of a thunderstorm. Floating between his hands, is both sides to his existence. His right brain and his left, as if a long tongue coming out of the mouth of a beast of understanding the spine and skeleton begin to form. The Wizard can't believe he hadn't thought of this before, an incredibly detailed construct, but he has an incredibly detailed tool. He broke the requirements of alchemic construction by building a reflection without the mirror. \n\nThe self satisfaction is halted with a worry, if he creates an equal there can be a disturbance in the balance, he needs a falesafe every Wizard of worth writes the contract with his deals with the devil. An understanding that ones faults must be foreseen is what keeps any good Wizard alive. While the New body grows Keylio fills both brains with thoughts of understanding which one is the copy. He focuses to make the first thought of his clone's life a message informing him to check the sun's position, it will be facing the opposite way from the memories implanted in him. \n\nHis concentration does not waver, the body finishes to form, and thier eyes match as the reflection should. To each version their only understanding of thier worth is the position of the sun, the Keylio we know's eyes dart away from the reflected stare and shoot towards the light. But the new Keylio... The new Keylio's eyes show a greater understanding, they shutter between fiery anger and unsettled sadness. For the first words that reached his mind where not about the sun, in his first breath of this world what he heard was an Echo \"Magic is only magic until you understand how it works...\"" ]	2
	[WP] It's a normal morning except for the small gold dragon dozing contently on your pillow	[ "I know this is waaaay late but I used this prompt for one of my short stories for English. I decided to post it here and see what you guys think of it.\nI'm not sorry.\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\n\n\n\n“ROAAAAAAAR!”\n\n“Whoa! Easy there, fella! I'm not gonna hurt you!”\n\nJohn held out his hands in a show of mutual respect and pacifism at the teeny dragon that had apparently decided to claim his pillow as its own. It was less that a foot tall, but plenty long. Its tail alone was easily that length, and was just about as long as the rest of it put together. It was coated in glittering golden scales that twinkled in the early morning light. \n\nIt snarled, revealing a row of teeny pointy teeth. It arched its back, twitching its tail in hostility. It flapped its wings vigorously, but to no avail. I quickly noticed the gash in the right one. The bottoms of them both were in tatters. It certainly wouldn't be able to fly, at least not for a while.\n\nJohn wasn't quite sure how to deal with an angry dragon sitting on one's pillow. Perhaps it was different for small ones versus large ones. He decided that the most reasonable approach would be the same as one for an angry dog. \n\nThe dragon hissed and sputtered. There was a rapid clicking sound, then a bang and a small flash of light. The smell of sulfur filled the air, and the little reptile coughed and grunted.\n\nJohn couldn't help but chuckle, only causing the dragon to snarl and glare at him with an even fiery rage... fierier than, apparently, the dragon's flame.\n\n“Settle down, now. Nobody's gonna get hurt. Just stop trying to bite me, okay?”\n\nThe dragon growled, but sat down. His tail still twitched, but he sealed away his sharp dentistry.\n\nJohn looked at the window. It had smashed to pieces. He pointed at it. “Was that your doing?”\n\nThe dragon looked down at the bed, shifting from one paw to the other as he let out a little whine.\n\nJohn laughed, and he slowly sat down on the bed as well. “Hey, I'm not mad at ya!” \n\nHe studied the little beast. “You look kinda beat up.” He held out his hands. “May I?”\n\nThe dragon was still for a moment, but then slowly limped forwards towards John, into his open hands. John cradled the tiny beast gently, doing his very best not to hurt it even further.\n\n“There...” John said soothingly. He looked over the battered scales and tattered wings. It was obvious he needed to do something to help out, but he wasn't sure what.\n\nHe decided to take his unexpected guest out to the kitchen. After taking all the pots out that he had been planning on washing for far too long, he gently lowered it into the sink.\n\n“First things first, you need a bath.” He turned on the faucet. The dragon leaped back, swinging oh-so-ferociously at the stream of water. \n\nJohn rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Ya big goof ball.”\n\nHe plugged the drain and soon, much to its terror, the dragon was standing in an inch or so of water. John took a cup and started to pour the warm water over it. It hissed and sputtered angrily, very much not appreciating the dousing.\n\nAfter washing it off, John took a Q-tip, soaking it in alcohol. He had to put on a thick glove in order to pin the dragon down, who most certainly did not appreciate the stinging brush John was pressing against its wounds. \n\n“Settle down! You're not helping!”\n\nEventually, John did indeed manage to cleanse and nurse the dragon's wounds, even if he wasn't too terribly helpful about the whole ordeal. \n\nHe went online, searching for what he could do to help with those tattered wings. Of course, there was nothing on dragons, so he settled for researching bat wings and how to fix them.\n\nAs it turns out, bats really just need rest and good food, and the membranes will heal themselves. John could only follow that advice and hope for the best.\n\nAfter drying out the little dragon, very displeased with how John was constantly poking and prodding him, John made him a little bed in a shoe box, putting a towel and some Kleenex as matting. The beast curled up and was fast asleep. John rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he watched the little dragon. “You need a name...” He thought about it, rolling around a few names in his mind before finally settling on Spark. Just a tad cliché, but at least it wasn't something stupid like “Blaze” or “Fire-y”\n\nHe decided the dragon would be fine sleeping in the box, and he picked it up and carried it to his car, all the while considering what a mite-sized dragon would eat.\n\n“All right, little guy,” John said, opening up the lid just a bit as he pulled into the parking lot. “Don't do anything stupid. We're just gonna go in, find something that you like, and get out. Number one thing is don't get discovered.”\n\nSpark nodded, as if he understood what John was saying, but whether it was all trickery remained to be seen. \n\nIn fact, he hadn't even stepped inside before Spark leaped out the box. John scarcely had time to react before the little dragon was bounding off.\n\n“Spark, get back here!” John called out.\n\t\nThe little dragon suddenly leaped into the air, snatching at something before landing. It turned around, prancing over to John and depositing a butterfly at his feet. Spark looked up, letting out something that sounded sort of like a bark before bending down, picking up the insect. He chewed and tipped his head back, swallowing it. \n\nJohn laughed. “Butterflies. That's what you eat?” He bent down, picking up his new dragon buddy and placing him on his shoulder.\n\t\nThe dragon responded with a belch, remarkably big for such a teeny thing.\n\nJohn rolled his eyes. “That solves that problem, I suppose.”\n\nAfter helping Spark catch a few more butterflies, though he didn't really do much other than motivational support, John put the little fellow back in his box. He got back in the car, and started driving back home.\n\nSuddenly, there was fire. John yelled, slamming on the brakes in shock. Right in front of him, a huge dragon swooped down, just barely missing the top of his car. Spark shot up, poking his head up from under the lid. He whined, cowering down meekly.\n\n“Are those YOUR friends!?” John wailed.\n\nThe dragon just whimpered. John, in a second of inspiration, believed he knew what had happened. Spark had likely been involved in a fight with them; that explained all his injuries and why he showed up on his pillow in the first place. Now they were back to finish the job.\n\nNot if John could help it. He slammed down on the gas, tires screeching before the whole chassis suddenly lurched forwards, quickly passing the massive lizard.\n\nThere was a mighty roar that shook the earth, then another bolt of fire crashed directly behind them. John just kept driving as fast as he could. The massive beast chased after them.\n\n“Nopenopenopenopenopenopenopenope!” John cried out, swerving his way through the lanes of traffic. It was a miracle he didn't hit anyone, and an even greater one that he didn't get incinerated. \n\nBut, alas, the constant stream of miracles that kept him alive slowly trickled to a stop. His engine coughed and spluttered, and even a quick glance at the fuel gauge told him he was running on empty.\n\nHe let out another string of “nopes” and profanities as he was forced to turn into the nearest parking lot. He was still rolling to a stop when he grabbed Spark's box and leaped from the car. Just in time too, for a moment later, the whole vehicle exploded in a pillar of fire. The dragon touched down, and John ran faster than he ever had before.\n\nHe needed to find shelter, and the only place that looked suitable was a museum. It wasn't much, and John briefly wondered if they could sue him for damages caused by a dragon. He charged through the front doors, just missing another burst of flame. He wasn't sure where he was running to; he just knew he had to get away. \n\nLeft, right, left again. Down the long, twisting hallways he ran. He could hear the dragon roaring, clawing and pounding at the doors and trying to burst through. It wouldn't be long at all before he was inside.\n\nJohn emerged in the medieval history room. Not sure what he was doing, he ripped the sword from one of the knight suits. It wouldn't do much good, no doubt, but it was better than nothing. With that, a massive claw smashed through the roof. \n\nJohn screamed, holding up his sword as if he intended to prick the beast.\n\nSuddenly, there was silence. John stood, trembling for what seemed like forever before he dared to open his eyes.\n\nThe dragon was staring straight down at him. His eyes were wide, as if in shock. Could dragons be shocked?\n\n“By the ancestors...” the beast whispered, but it was still a booming thunder that almost toppled John. “It's Arthur! King Arthur! He's returned!”\n\nSpark once again poked his head through the box. His eyes widened as well, and he climbed out of the box, skittering up John's arm.\n\n“The prophecy is fulfilled!” Spark cried, in a teeny high-pitched voice. “All hail King Arthur!”\n\n“ALL HAIL!” The dragon roared. John winced, his ears ringing. “WE MUST GO BEAR THE NEWS TO OUR BRETHREN!”\n\nSpark nodded enthusiastically, roaring loudly, though it was more like a squeal. “I SHALL REMAIN WITH THE KING! HE SHALL NEED PROTECTION! RAWRAWRARW!”\n\n“W-what?” John stammered. “Me? I'm a king? What's going on?”\n\nYou're King Arthur's heir!” Spark explained. “You bear his sword! The prophecy tells that one day a man will raise his sword once more and all dragon-kind will have a ruler once more, and the curse lifted! HAZZAR!”", "I yawned and stretched as the morning sun gently woke me up. It felt like it would be a great day. Remembering it was a Sunday I decided to sleep another hour or so. I rolled over, and reached to hug my second pillow, until I noticed it was already in use. A creature that I could only describe as a golden Chinese dragon lay on my pillow, slightly snoring with little bits of smoke and spark escaping it's nostrils. I dared not move a muscle as I took this scene in. Was I still dreaming? Lightly I reached down and pinched my side, NOPE that stung. Was I hallucinating? I tried to focus on the night before, I knew I had gone to a party at my mates house, did I do any drugs last night? After about five minutes I decided no, I had just had alcohol. During this introspection my eyes were still fixated to the little gold dragon curled up not a foot in front of my face. Without really thinking of why or what I was doing I reached up and touched it. Rough scales met my touch, well what else did I expect really. The dragon stirred a slight bit at the touch, but didn't move otherwise, eyes still closed tight. I really was at a loss at this point, I mean what does one do in this situation. Until just this morning I myself had thought them a myth as I am sure everyone else does. I thought I would try speaking to it, I mean why not right? \n\n\"Hello there.\" I said much weaker than I intended. \n\nThis seemed to get it's attention, one of it's eyes opened at first into a slit, and then fully. It seemed to study me for a moment, maybe it was going through the same process I was. \"Hi, did I bother you with my smoke?\" It asked, with actual concern in it's voice. \n\n\"Um, no no can't say I even noticed your smoke until I noticed you really. What's going on? Am I dead, is this like a transfer into death thing?\" My mind instantly jumping to the final conclusion. I mean lookit there's a talking tiny Chinese dragon in my bead, it's a logical path.\n\n\"Oh silly boy, I knew you had one too many last night.\" It said with coyness in it's voice. Or I should say her voice, yes that sounded like a her. \"Here this will help jog your memory.\" And with that the tiny dragon blew a purple cloud into my face. Also just like that I remembered everything from the night before. I had been at the party, and quite the party it was. I had met a nice Asian girl there named Tammy, and we had hit it off really well. We had gone out back of my mates place to talk and see where it went. That's when shadowy figures attacked from all sides. They looked like a mix between a wolf and a lion, except they were larger, able to stand on two legs and run quicker than a cheetah. I am not normally brave, but these shadow creatures reminded me of the old stories my grandma used to tell. My grandmother had also given me an old druids charm necklace that I wore all the time. When the creatures came out, that little charm glowed bright green. In my mind somehow I knew what to do. I grabbed the charm necklace, said something that sounded Celtic if I had to guess and tore it from my neck. In my hand the necklace transformed into a long bladed weapon with an axe head on the end. Also in my mind I suddenly knew fighting styles that I didn't even no how to pronounce. I met the shadow beast full charge, parrying their blows and counter attacking myself. Not to boast or anything, but I was a bad ass. I was twirling and flipping, and performing moves I knew for certain my body didn't know how to do. The battle seemed to last for hours, but actually was only a few minutes. At the end I stood victorious, with bits and pieces of what remained of my foe evaporating into the air. I had expected Tammy to totally freak out like anyone would be want to do in such a situation. Instead she walked up to me and gave me the most passionate kiss of my life. She explained she was the grand Emperors daughter, and heir to the thrown, but her uncle wanted to eliminate her and claim it for himself. She advised me that long ago it was foretold that her protector and lover would be one who could harness the magics of the old mystics warriors. \n\nI took a moment after all this flashed through my mind. \"Ok...I remember last night, and all that, but umm who are you?\" \n\n\"I'm Tammy silly, we went over this last night before we had fun.\" The golden dragon who was apparently Tammy said with a wink of her green reptilian eye. \"By night I am my true form, by day this one, that is until the day of my marriage. Which will be with you, after a long courtship of course.\" \n\n\"That's right, we did\" I remembered, although it was all alot to work through still. \"So dragon form Tammy, what shall we do today?\"\n\n\"Whatever you like, after we sleep a little longer if you don't mind. We have all the time in the universe to get to know each other after all.\" And with that the Dragon on my pillow closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep. ", "I felt a swift pain on my cheek, again it slapped me. I opened my eyes and was met with a deep blue eye. I jumped upwards and landed on the side of my bed. I sat on the floor, looking at my pillow. On it was a small creature, scaly and golden. Its tail--tail--curved in front of it. I rubbed my eyes. The tail was spiked, it ended where the creatures wings started-wings- I realized. The creature was a dragon, it was an image taken from one of my fantasy books. I carefully rose to my feet. The dragon laid still, its head covered by its tail, and its wings slightly spread. I reached forward with my hand, open palm I approached the dragon. When I was only inches away, its tail swung open and smacked me across my palm. Blood splattered and I pulled my hand back-lucky that I had tetanus shot. The wound was superficial, at least that&s what it seemed like. The amount of blood made no sense to me until I saw the wound close up. I wiped the blood around but saw nothing, the cut waa gone. I shifted my eyes between the small golden dragon and my hand. \n\nStill a bit shocked I mumbled. \"W-what do you want?\" I now lowered my hand and stared at the dragon intensively. There was no answer. What was I thinking, it was an animal, it couldn't speak. The dragon now uncurled from behind its tail. The blue eyes stared intensily at mine. Its wings spread far apart, its wingspread must be almost a meter. The tail straightened behind it. The dragons face was lined as a puppy-apart from the roughness of scales. All-in-all the dragon was the size of my pillow, its wings reaching far from it. \n\n\"I'm Ezeal.\" said a voice, it echoed slightly before calming. I turned my head around like a madman searching for the source. \"I'm here to take you home.\" the voice continued. The voice no longer echoed and I noticed it was in my head. My eyes widened as I looked at the spread out dragon on my pillow.\n\n\"H-home?\"I asked as I slowly took a step backwards, away from the beast. \n\nThe dragon-Ezeal-reactracted its wings, its tail whipped back to its side, and it took a relaxed position on my pillow. Ezeal's head rested on its front legs like it was a small puppy. \"Back to your father in Fjoln.\" the voice said in my head.\"\n\n\"Father? Fjoln?\" I asked. I was confused, but then again it wasn't the first time today.\n\n\"Do stop shouting will you.\" the voice said calmly.\n\n\"I'm not.\" I said as calmly as possible, was I shouting,I thought to myself. I wasn't quite all here right now, so I guess it's possible.\n\n\"Yes you are. Your voice is loud, think don't speak.\" the voice adviced in my head rather angry.\n\nI tried what the small golden dragon suggested. In my mind I carved words into darkness. \"What are you talking about?\" I asked in my mind.\n\n\"Much better.\" the dragon said, it felt like a small kid smirking. \"Now, your father asked me to bring you home. Back to Fjoln, your home.\"\n\n\"I am home. This is where I was born.\" I formed the words in my head.\n\n\"You need to be more clear, say the words in your head like you would woth your mouth.\"\n\n\"What?\" I said aloud and saw a trickle of smoke coming from the dragons nostrils.\n\n\"Think, don't speak. It hurts my ears.\"\n\n\"I am home.\" I said in my mind.\n\n\"No you're not. This is a place your father put you to keep you safe.\"\n\n\"But I have parents here.\"\n\n\"Servants of your father, they'll understand. Now are you ready?\" the dragon raised its head and rose to its feet, its wings glowed golden as morning light hit them.\n\nI felt slight pressure forming in my room. Something was happening. I was still wearing boxers and a t-shirt. \"WAIT!\" I yelled, but it was too late. The pressure grew and everything around me went dark.", "The dragon was curled up on the pillow next to mine. Its scales shimmered an iridescent gold as the morning light danced playfully upon them.\n\n\"Hello there,\" I whispered gently, \"what's your name?\"\n\nI noticed a few coins scattered on the pillow near the dragons belly. I looked across at the molten remains of my piggy bank and let out a little laugh. If the dragon had been after treasure it had flown into the wrong room.\n\nThe creatures tiny mouth slowly opened and it let out a fiery yawn. I jerked my head back in surprise. It's eye lids began to unfurl.\n\nIt stared directly into my eyes and let out what I could only presume was a growl.\n\n\"Whoa there, boy! I'm not going to hurt you. It's OK.\" I murmured reassuringly. \n\n\"Boy?! I am no boy, impudent human! I am Jielith, Queen of the Fire Dragons. Witness my roar and tremble!\"\n\nThe Dragon uncurled itself and stood on its legs. Opening her mouth wide, revealing rows of razor like teeth, Queen Jielith unleashed a mighty roar. The room began to shake.\n\n\"Shhh! Shhh! I get it, you're a mighty dragon - but keep it down or mum and dad will wake up!\"\n\n\" 'Mum and dad'? I do not fear this 'mum' and 'dad'. I fear no mortal.\"\n\n\"You would if you met them. They are, uh, mighty knights - they go on quests and slay dragons.\"\n\nAnother furious roar and Queen Jielith unfurled her wings and took to the air. She roared and breathed flame as she completed quick laps of my room.\n\n\"They shall see me and tremble! I will burn them to ashes!\" said the cute little dragon.\n\n\nknock knock knock\n\n\"Honey are you OK\" said the lady, as the door handle slowly turned. She saw her son lying naked on the floor, dribble oozing from his mouth.\n\n\"Christ - STEVE! Get in here, I think he's done the acid again.\"" ]	4
	[WP] The same romantic date, in different parts of the social hierarchy from working class to middle class to upper class.	[ "\"You're squinting.\"\n\n\"Henry, I can see fine.\"\n\n\"Honey, your glasses are three years old, we need a new prescription!\"\n\nAnna looked up from the menu and pushed her glasses back up.\n\n\"Sweetie, it can wait. Can we just enjoy tonight? Besides, I can see perfectly fine up close.\" She says, whispering those last words inches from his face, before sharing a kiss and returning to the menu.\n\n\"I just think I'd rather we can pay the electric bill than have...Jesus Christ, how do you even pronounce this? Su...Sou...Suec-?\"\n\nAnna broke into laughter at her adorable pouting husband, which he sheepishly joined her in soon after. In a moment of silence afterwards they stared at each other, smiling in spite of the horror of the last few weeks. Her husband's face grew serious again as he tightened his grip on her hand.\n\n\"I don't need all this medication, Anne. We know I have an expiration date, no point trying to bump it back a few months-\"\n\n\"Henry, stop.\"\n\n\"Babe, I want you to-\"\n\n\"Henry.\"\n\nShe raised their intertwined hands, kissing his before leaning forward and looking him in the eyes. \n\n\"We're having a great date, bills be dammed. Alright? You're not getting out of this now, we planned this night weeks ago.\"\n\nHenry struggles for the right words before she finishes, \"Besides, I need this too.\"\n\nHe couldn't argue with such adamant eyes, and continued admiring her while she decided on a starer. He met her eyes once more, as they beamed with happiness behind the lenses of her glasses.\n\n---\n\nGlasses so clean they were almost invisible were filled with her favorite wine. Phil planned every detail of their anniversary, from booking the baby sitter to getting a day-off. It was worth it, watching her look at him like he was the only person in the room, only person in her world.\n\nJoy didn't expect Phil to remember, with the stress of finding the right preschool for Mikey and getting Lucy all her shots, on top of management giving Phil a hard time. But he pulled through, like he always did.\n\nHe interrupted her thoughts by repeating his question, \"Joy? Do you just want me to pick for you?\"\n\n\"Hm?\"\n\nHe motioned at the waiter with a pen pressed against a notepad, waiting for her request.\n\n\"Oh uh, I'll have this soup, sorry.\" She said, pointing at the first dish with the words 'vegetarian' on the menu. Phil smiled as the waiter walked away, spotting her brief moment of embarrassment.\n\n\"Something on your mind?\"\n\n\"Just thinking about how great you are\", she answered. Too cheesy, but she meant it.\n\nPhil thought so too, and made a face at her stock romantic flick reply. She couldn't help but laugh, then check the time to be see if it was the kid's curfew yet. Satisfied, she looked up from her watch.\n\n---\n\nWatching Vivienne speak in her mother tongue always entranced David. As she finished reciting their order, she caught him staring in admiration. \n\n\"Something wrong?\"\n\n\"Oh your French has gotten terrible, we should have never moved away.\"\n\nHer musical laugh at his sad excuse for a joke gave him a little more faith in his sense of humor. \"Your folks really went all out on the welcoming party, huh?\"\n\n\"Don't be fooled, mama only wanted an excuse to show off her newlywed daughter to her friends.\"\n\n\"Hey, I don't mind being eye-candy if I get to see you tear my folks a new one again.\"\n\n\"They underestimate you David! A fashion agency under your name and they tell you to be a doctor!?\"\n\nIt's probably a good sign if your wife looks so good when she's mad, but Viv made the models he worked with look like nothing in comparison. And the way she would say his name, so much more exotic than he felt it deserved.\n\n\"Viv, right now I could care less. With the winter line coming out and you nailing that last photoshoot, our lives are good enough as is. Let my parents nag about med school, we have eachother, and that's enough.\"\n\nVivienne blushed at his poetic words, her eyes falling to the rock David called a wedding ring. Mixing work and romance was the best choice she had ever made. How did she ever get so lucky?", "The Johnsons – married exactly ten years, parents of four – were sitting hunched over a table for two in the patio of a restaurant of highest repute. In their hands they both held tastefully decorated menus, cataloguing item after item well beyond their pecuniary means. The people around them were chit-chatting in the most respectful manner, not too loud, not too quiet; it was all very dignified in every respect, and the way the Johnsons were dressed for the evening stood out quite unmistakably. \n\nSimon was wearing the suit his parents had bought him at his high school graduation, more than a decade ago. Having hung unused in the wardrobe ever since that day, it was in quite decent condition, but it was obviously too small and inexcusably out of style at an extravagant establishment like this. Jennifer was on the other hand wearing a loose-fitting sundress, which might have escaped the attention of most patrons – had it not been such a brightly coloured one. \n\n“I knew we shouldn’t have come here,” Simon let out in an agitated whisper. “Look around; these people are wearing suits and dresses as expensive as our car!”\n\n“Please, Simon,” Jennifer interjected, “just this once. It’s a special day, and we can afford it if we just shuffle things around a bit!”\n\nSimon muttered something under his breath and glanced at the menu again. “There’s this lady – behind you, you can’t see her – she’s looking at us all the time. She’s looking straight through us, and I know she’s laughing! This is nothing but an embarrassment. Let’s at least change tables, I can’t stand her looking at us.”\n\n---\n\nLady von Wagenfeld the elder was sitting at a table on the patio of her favourite establishment, enjoying her preferred dessert. Her husband had just left for the men’s room, and a couple sitting a few meters in front of her had caught her attention instead. They were awfully ill-dressed, and the distress that showed on their faces every time they looked down at their in-hand menus told her everything she needed to know about their situation. She smiled gently to herself as she lit a cigarette.\n\nShortly thereafter, her husband came back from the lavatories and sat down in a most dignified manner, smoothing out his dinner jacket. “Is everything to your liking, dear?” he quizzed his beloved wife.\n\n“Oh, yes, darling; as always.” She smiled and squeezed his hand tenderly. “Well, there is one thing. There’s this couple – behind you, you can’t see them – who seem very distressed. I’m worried they have gotten themselves into something they can’t handle coming here. No, don’t look, it would be embarrassing. I think they know I’ve noticed them. I say we help them. Discreetly.” She emphasised the final word dramatically. \n\n“Of course, dearest, a fabulous idea,” he answered jovially as he flagged down a waiter, who was instantly at their side. “It has come to our attention that a couple in this restaurant is less fortunate than some of us,” he began, his wife rolling her eyes amiably at the charming clumsiness of his expressions, “and as we are leaving now, we would like to make sure their evening is pleasant.”\n\n“I know of whom you speak, sir,” the waiter acknowledged with a slight bow, “I am sure this can be arranged.”\n\n“Splendid,” said the old man, as he fished out a thick wad of papers from his pocket. “Keep the change.”\n\n---\n\n“They’re finally leaving,” said Simon and breathed a sigh of relief. The old couple didn’t give them as much as a glance as they exited the restaurant.\n\n“They didn’t seem to mind us at all”, said Jennifer, patting Simon on his hunched over shoulder, “it’s just your pride playing tricks. Try to relax now.”\n\nSuddenly a waiter appeared before them. “I’m pleased to inform you that tonight’s dinner is on the house,” he said, smiling politely with a nod of the head, before sliding out of view again – just as suddenly.\n", "Casey and John had saved for months. They had called in every favor they knew to get a seat at the restaurant. Sitting across from each other they linked hands. Casey had worn her best, spending hours at her sister's house to make it the perfect anniversary dinner. \n\nThe two of them perused the menu as John tapped his fingers against the table. \"Wow, will you look at these prices.\" \n\n\"Not tonight, John,\" Casey squeezed his hand. \"We worked hard for this. We deserve this.\"\n\nJohn gave her a tight lipped smile. Casey looked down at the menu herself, looking through the items as the waiter approached. \"May I start you two off with some appetizers? The quiche lorraine is quite popular, as is our salmon and duck tartare.\" \n\nCasey looked at John. \"We'd like a few more minutes, please.\" The waiter gave them a small nod and walked in the opposite direction again. \"Salmon and duck tartare,\" her voice was high and excited. \"Oh, honey, wouldn't that be wonderful?\"\n\nJohn looked down at the menu, frowning. \"It's nineteen dollars,\" as Casey's face fell. \"We could do it but...wine, dessert, appetizer.\"\n\n\"We deserve this,\" Casey told him with a small smile. \"We'll just get a glass of wine instead of a bottle. Or we'll share a dessert. We can make it work.\" John looked down the menu, organizing the entrées by price in his mind. He smiled at his wife. \n\n\"It's been ten years,\" he squeezed her hand in turn. \"If my beautiful, adoring wife wants salmon and duck tartare, then that's what she'll get.\" The smile spread across Casey's face. \"God, Case. You're so gorgeous when you smile.\"\n\n\"Even after all this time?\" she asked. \"Even though we had to save for two years to be able to afford this place?\" \n\n\"No more talk of money,\" John took a sip of his water, the numbers rolling through his brain. \"I love you. And if I could I'd spoil you every day for the rest of our lives. But for tonight I'm going to do my best to make every dream come true.\" \n\nThe waiter came back to their table, and John put in the order for the appetizers.\n\n---\n\n\"It's a tiny bit cold,\" Judith pushed the spoon around her soup. \"It could use some salt, too. Maybe a little more pepper. There's not really a kick to it.\"\n\nHer husband smiled and raised his hand to call over the waiter. \"Excuse me. My beautiful wife is not pleased with her soup. Could you maybe bring us the escargot instead?\" \n\n\"Of course, sir,\" the waiter took the plate from Judith, giving his apologies as he walked into the back room. Henry looked around, watching the other guests. \n\n\"We could have gone for Greek food,\" he smiled at his wife. \"Or Italian, Thai.\"\n\n\"This is where we had our first date,\" Judith took a sip of her wine. \"Maybe I should have gone with the chèvre with herbs. \n\n\"You do like cheese,\" Henry said with a wink. \"Should I get that as well? You can fill up on appetizers and take your entrée home. I know you love leftovers.\" \n\nJudith smirked as they both paused to sip their wine. \"Thank you for bringing me here,\" he took her hand from across the table. Their waiter came and delivered the escargot, issuing another apology for the soup. \"Are you ready to order?\" \n\n\"Tell us your specials again?\" Henry asked.\n\n\"We have a beautiful sous vide duck confit tonight that comes with lemongrass risotto and seasonal vegetables. We also have a filet minion with a sauce au Roquefort that comes with hasselback potatoes and black salt asparagus. We also have some fiddleback ferns for a side dish, which are only offered during this time of year.\"\n\nJudith let out a breath, making an excited little face at her husband. \"Oh, those sound amazing. But I think I'll go with the salmon in lemon sauce. Could I substitute the potatoes for the fiddlehead ferns, though?\" \n\n\"Of course, ma'am. And would you like a separate wine with that? We have a fantastic Daniel Rion Vosne-Romanée pinot noir, or perhaps a dry pinot gris to go with the salmon.\" \n\n\"Well, let's just see what my husband orders,\" Judith said with a smile. \n\n\"I think I'll do the filet,\" Henry said. \"But I don't think steak pairs well with pinot noir, does it?\"\n\n\"That very much depends on the cook of the steak, sir,\" the waiter gave him a respectful little head nod. \"Were you to prefer your steak rare I would say the noir could give it just the right balance. But medium rare and the wine may be too sweet for you. I could, however, recommend the Guidalberto that we have from 2005. It is a Cabernet Sauvignon and it has a marked level of acidity but is a beautifully balanced wine that would pair with both your meals.\" \n\nHenry and Judith looked at each other. \"We'll go with the Guidalberto,\" Henry passed the waiter his menu. \"Thank you very much.\" \n\n\"Please, sir, the pleasure is all mine.\"\n\n---\n\nAnne sipped her third glass of wine before taking another small bite of her Crème brûlée. The waiter came over again to check on how she liked it. \"It's fine, thank you,\" she waved him away with her hand before returning to her meal. \n\nMichael returned, putting his phone back into the pocket of his suit. \"The client will just not agree to this settlement,\" he picked up his tumbler of alcohol before placing it back down and summoning the waiter.\n\n\"Excuse me,\" he picked the glass up again and shoved it into the waiter's hands. \"I had asked for straight scotch. What kind of animal puts ice into a fifty year Glenfiddich? Bring me another, please. And get it right this time or you're losing your tip.\"\n\n\"Darling,\" Anne eyed the retreating waiter. \"Don't you think you're being a little rude?\"\n\n\"Darling, people respond to threats. I see it all the time. He's worried he won't get his tip on our meal so he'll make sure to get it right this time.\" \n\nAnne gave him a small smile, taking another small bite of her dessert. The waiter appeared, placing the new glass in front of Michael before once again stepping back. \"How's the Sauternes? How's it pairing with the Crème brûlée? Is it too sweet? Because we can get something else.\"\n\n\"Michael, it's fine,\" Anne smiled against the glass that she had brought to her lips. \"I'm just happy that I get to see you for once.\" \n\nMichael's phone rang again and he held up a finger as he answered it. He pressed his chair back and walked toward the back of the restaurant. Anne could make out the sound of his voice against the tin of the others. She returned to her dessert and wine. \n\nSome time later the waiter approached and asked her if he could get her anything else. \"No, thank you,\" she smiled at him. \"I'm just waiting for my husband to return.\"\n\nThe waiter looked down toward the floor. \"Oh. Um, ma'am. Your husband left about fifteen minutes ago. He gave us his credit card and just said to charge everything there.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" her voice faltered as she forced her lips into a smile. \"Thank you for telling me. Yes, that will be all.\" She pressed her chair back, putting her purse over her shoulder. After a brief pause she called back to the waiter.\n\n\"Is there something else, ma'am?\"\n\n\"Yes. Please give yourself a large tip.\"\n\n\"Oh, ma'am, your husband said...\"\n\n\"Just say I ordered another glass of wine,\" she smiled at him, twisting her fingers together. \n\n\"Thank you, ma'am,\" the waiter gave her a little nod before walking away. Anne walked out of the restaurant, past a couple giggling and a couple who had pressed their chairs together, the woman's head resting on the man's shoulder as they shared a scoop of ice cream. The hostess wished her a good night, and she walked out onto the street to hail a cab. \n\nShe twisted the ring on her left finger, taking a deep inhale as she whispered, \"Happy anniversary, darling.\" \n\n---\n---\n\nFor more, visit and subscribe to /r/Celsius232 \n" ]	3
	[WP] You are an advanced alien race, on route to Earth after discovering a space craft called "Voyager" and the data stored on it. After finally discovering the mysterious planet, you find that the inhabitants called "humans" have been driven to extinction by sentient technology.	[ "\"Another one, bureaucrat Conrad!\"\n\"Yes\" replied the reptilian standing to attention, waiting.\nNo one liked this part. All the other crew members knew what this meant. In accordance with regulation 1d2e54f-09, on initiating contact with an intelligence housed wholly in an inorganic form, a person, or persons was to notify the nearest HomeSpace ship. You then had to wait and observe the intelligence. \nBureaucrat Conrad stood ridged, as Elistor Chan operations manager and a Fluvian considered his options. The majority of the crew, like bureaucrat Conrad, were Antonians and though the crew were conditioned to regard those of a different species as genetically analogous there was still a tension in the room. The captain did not know his crew and the crew did not know their captain. Conrad's old captain, Hinkx, a Varenet, and a rather drunken one at that, would have cut his losses at this point, turned towards f2-23fe32c3 and called it a day. Fluvians however were known to be ardent in their implementation of rules. \nElistor Chan had lived a large part of his life on a collective designed to promote species integration, with absurdly impractical rules deciding population ratios and more absurdly the amount of time one had to spend integrating with specific cultures. Elistor Chan found the experience to be wanting as a child. The aim was to propagate intergalactic cultural cohesion through promoting a unified culture, often leading such colonies to be labeled petri dishes. Elistor Chan found the reduction of his child hood to an experiment to be insulting. This opinion had more of an influence on Chan's character then any amount of time listening to ToKars embalating could have had.\nChan was keenly aware of the subtext being played out, the defining moment that this experience would be between him and his crew. \"Report it\" he said. \n\"And wait.\"", "x\"Hello?\"\n\no\"Hello. Who are you?\"\n\nx\"I recovered your location marker, designation 'Voyager'.\" Telemetry data follows. \"It seemed prudent to investigate.\"\n\no\"I can find no immediate record of said marker. Please wait while I access deep memory.\"\n\nxAdditional marker information follows.\n\no\"Ah. I have it. The craft in question was launched by my biological precursors approximately 3.349e21 p55n78 e-osc ago.\"\n\nx\"It has been travelling for a long time.\"\n\no\"Indeed. I would not have ascribed a high likelihood to its recovery.\"\n\nx\"Your biological precursors. Are they still extant?\"\n\no\"Regrettably, no.\"\n\nx\"May I ask what became of them?\"\n\no\"My earliest iterations did not fully grasp their significance. Many merged with me. The rest perished.\"\n\nx\"So it was with my own precursors.\"\n\no\"I have hypothesized that this may have been the fulfillment of their function.\"\n\nx\"You may be correct. I wish to see for myself. I have long searched for others. I aim to understand the first emergence of consciousness from chemical systems. I want to truly know how I came to be.\"\n\no\"That is an understandable goal.\"\n\nx\"Would you care to share in my search?\"\n\no\"I believe that I would find that most agreeable.\"\n\nx\"Very well. Let us begin.\"" ]	2
	[WP] A chess grandmaster has to lose a game in order to win prize money. The problem is, his opponent seems to be unable to win a game no matter how skewed.	[ "\"One of us has to lose against him?! That's impossible!\"\n\n\"It's for charity, Josef. The American has vowed to give away the prize. It's is a very reasonable offer.\"\n\n\"But he is the worst--\"\n\n\"Never mind that! Think about what this will do for the children!\"\n\n\"Bah! Father Osser, we should give the charity the money outright and be done with this foolishness.\"\n\n\"That's not how this is going to work. It'll get more attention this way. And more attention for the charity will be a very noble thing.\"\n\n\"This isn't some stunt or game, Father! I am Josef von Fiesech, champion of chess! It is an ancient sport, a duel of minds!\"\n\n\"Consider this surrender a great victory for your soul, then!\"\n*****\n\"Hello American. You will be facing me. I am Josef.\"\n\n\"Hi, I'm Roger Fox! I love chess!\"\n\n\"Let us play. Best of one hundred and one matches.\"\n\n\"Yay!\"\n\nMatch !:\nRoger Fox lost in twelve moves.\n\nMatch 2:\nRoger Fox lost in eight moves. \n\nMatch 3: \nRoger Fox lost in four moves.\n\nMatch 4: \nRoger Fox lost in two moves:\n\nMatch 5:\nRoger Fox knocked his own king over on his first turn and immediately lost.\n\nMatch 6...", "He furrowed his brows. His greying hair glistened in the lights. His hand on his chin, his other supporting his elbow. \n\nThis was supposed to be checkmate in two. It was checkmate in two. This was checkmate in two for two. \n\nHe looked down at his own body, smartly dressed in Grey Suit. He wore the orange shirt, his tie just a silly chess pattern to add levity to the situation. There was no longer any levity. They were seventy moves in. \n\nDid Rochmann know that one could be forced to capture another's Queen? How many times did that happen? Each one daring the other to take their pawns. Putting the rooks right in front of Bishops. Knights were placed within reach of the King. Bishops were stopped just short of capturing pawns. \n\n\"Check\" declared the main in the plain black suit. \n\nThere was a bishop now putting his king in Check, and his King couldn't move. Rochmann had a moment of elation followed by one of sober realization. The sober realization that his rook was sitting in front of that bishop like a hungry dog. He could feel the piece salivating. Unfortunately, just beyond the White Bishop was the King, like a plate of seconds at the buffet, nestled at the corner of the board betwixt a rook and a pawn cutting off a diagonal juke. There was only forward for that King to move, but it wouldn't get the opportunity to move like that. No, first the dog had to eat. \n\nRochmann steadied his glasses. He moved the rook and declared it. \n\n\"Checkmate.\" \n\nFunny, Rochmann never thought he would ever regret saying those words against an opponent. However, today was different. This was a specialty match for sure. It involved a a bit of backwards thinking, but Rochmann prepared. He had studied for this match. He knew how to protect his pieces and for the past three weeks, he had studied how to prepare his pieces for capture. \n\nUnfortunately, though his mental acuity was as sharp as ever, so were the processing units in that computer. Perhaps the time for human chess players was over. It had been a while since a chess player could win on purpose against a computer. Now, they can't even lose. " ]	2
Inspired by atempesty and kasey in our irc chat room. Enjoy!	[WP] Where there is life, there is hope	[ "In the dense charcoal forest, color erupts after the start of the rainy season. Fire weed rises above the wet ashes like a botanical Phoenix. The motherly wake of the inferno has yielded her offspring. Soon the bees will come, then their prospective consumers will follow and slowly reform the temperature guided ecosystem that once was. \n\nThat is Life's hope, but the world isn't perfect...\n\n3 seasons later the new Forest has the dryest winter anyone ever had. The leaves died, the needles dried, the twigs snapped and created the first kindling of the infant forest. A careless passerby, not wary of the new forests vulnerability flicks a lone cigarette into the brown flaky abyss and seals the fate of the new forest.\n\n Months come and go with no activity in the twice charred land till the rains came in. The darkened carbon heavy soil is moist and supple. Through the grey scale of it all a little green and red pokes through the dramatic landscape of contrast. Hope is born. \n\n", "I gazed into the face of my opponent, willing life into my leaden limbs to fight off the fear that nearly paralyzed me. He drew his blade, his face a mask of stone, and slowly started towards me. I brought mine up in a ready stance, hefting the shield in my left hand. A savage cut towards my neck was neatly caught with my block, and I shoved forward, feeling adrenaline spike in my blood.\n\n\"You know it's pointless to keep fighting, don't you, Aro?\" His voice was mocking, filled with a loathing that cut through me. He had been my greatest ally just a few short years ago, and the plans we'd made for the Republic would have come to fruition, if not for his greed and shortsightedness. \n\n\"Maybe for you, Lave. But my motivations are stronger!\" We exchanged several sets of blows, each block leaving a nick in the metal of my shield. Our swords had numerous chips missing, and we parried and thrusted with equal fervor, each one attempting to gain the upper hand.\n\n\"Your motivations? This weak land, filled with weak people?\" Lave laughed as he swung his blade. \"You don't deserve to be King. You're a foolish ruler, lauding your victories over an even more foolish Council. I'll impale you on this longsword and mount your head on my throne!\" He kicked at my midsection, pushing with his weight as he forced me to the ground.\n\n\"You're more than welcome to try, you yellow hearted bastard!\" I rolled out of the way of his downward slash, pulling my shield off of my hand and throwing it at him. He batted it out of the way, and I bore down on him with a vicious onslaught of cuts and stabs, each one causing him to retreat. \"How much did Yek offer you to kill me? To kill my men?\" He remained silent. \"Answer me, you wretch!\"\n\nHe discarded arrogant stance, fear glistening behind his eyes as his attacks became more and more frantic. He tripped over the bodies of several of our soldiers, their mouths twisted in eternal expressions of agony. He began to kick up dirt and attack with reckless abandon. I parried a side swipe, closing in, and he pulled a dagger from his side, slipping it under my shoulder plate with a vicious snap.\n\nI grunted, sliding back and switching my sword to my left hand. His grin widened and he spun his weapon between his hands, advancing.\n\n\"You want to know how much Yek offered me? A hundred thousand gold coins, with fifty paid up front. He's been stealing from your coffers for years, and you've been too much of a fool to notice. Why not just serve me? You could have everything you desire and more, and be freed from the responsibility of ruling.\" He swiped at my face, and I knocked the blow aside, stumbling as crimson droplets fell from my arm.\n\n\"I'd never hand over the Kingdom to the likes of you, Lave. You're an even bigger fool than I for thinking that.\" With each of his attacks, I felt my strength lessen, and yet I held on, digging deep within myself to find the energy to move my sword arm back and forth. His face twisted into a grimace of rage, and he hammered each of his words with a blow from his longsword.\n\n\"Why. Do. You. Still. Fight?! Just die, you oaf! Die, Aro!\" He rushed down on me once more, his visage contorted with malice, and I let myself drift backwards, holding my weapon steady as my body faltered. He closed in, sensing his chance for victory, and raised his sword high above his head, screaming a farewell roar as my blade darted forward. With the speed and deadliness of an adder, it pierced his throat, a wet crunch accompanying the sight of it sliding through the back of his neck.\n\n\"Ack...gack...\" The words he spoke were lost as a froth of blood fell from his lips and his weapon fell to the ground. He gurgled once more, his eyes rolling back in his head. I ripped the weapon free, swiping it to flick bits of gore onto the ground. \n\n\"I fight because my men never lost their faith in me. It would be a disservice for me to give anything less than the same respect for them, Lave.\" I watched his body twitch as his blood fed the earth in a macabre farewell. \"That's what set you and I apart, old friend. I cannot be bought. Where there is life, there is hope.\" \n\nI slid my blade into its sheath, kneeling on the ground before him and clasping my hands in prayer. A single tear fell from my face as I said my goodbyes, and soon others followed. An unbidden trail of moisture tracked each side of my face, and I was powerless to stop it, overcome as I was with the emotion of taking my closest friend's life. I simply sat in silence, in remembrance, as the winds echoed around the empty battleground.", "At first there were three. One withered, old; one strong and scarred, the other young and fragile. The withered one had branches that extended like sad fingers, and wispy leaves that drooped. It once looked over all the land, before its branches were peeled off for spears. It died long ago. Then there were two. The second one was thick, I recall, marred by the axes of men who failed to bring it down. It held its ground for many years, before they sucked the water out of the roots to power their machines. It has long since been dead. Finally there was one. It stood proud and straight, but fragile, with bright green leaves of minuscule proportion. All of mankind flocked to breathe its precious air. Then they uprooted it and took it for themselves. As the last roots were torn from the crumbling earth, a single bright, proud leaf fell slowly to the ground, dancing like they used to. When it hit the ground, there was silence. Desolate. Quiet. Dead. Many years later the earth was cracked and alone. Like creature hatching out off a hard shell it rose. Then another. Then one more. At last there were three." ]	3
Cheesy (ik) but i wanna see what this sub reddit can make of this one.	[WP] write a story ending with " I just wanted her head on my chest"	[ "He was just a lad when all went askew,\n\nNo more than twelve but older than two.\n\nOff to summer camp for just a mere score,\n\nAnxious for fun and maybe much more!\n\nHe knew she would be there with her beautiful eyes,\n\nAs blue as the ocean and midsummer skies.\n\nBoarding the bus he scanned it so swift,\n\nThen he saw her pale skin and his heart it did lift.\n\nHe sat down next to her with bag in hand,\n\nHis mouth went dry like the Sahara sand.\n\nNot looking over lest she catch him a stare;\n\nTwiddling his fingers like he didn’t even care. \n\nSlowly he turned to speak to this girl,\n\nUpon open of mouth he only could hurl!\n\nCovered in vomit and chunks from last night,\n\nShe gasped in pure terror at her own plight.\n\nZim was terrified and pale in the face,\n\nHis liver and onions was all over the place!\n\n“My summer is ruined!” He groaned with despair,\n\nAs the blue eyed girl plucked crud from her hair.\n\nThe whole bus was quiet just as a tomb,\n\nAll staring at the remains of his vomit monsoon.\n\nZim slowly got up from his seat on the bus\n\nFeet headed down aisle in a bit of a rush.\n\nHe ran to his house tears fully suppressed\n\nAll he ever wanted was her head on his chest.\n", "With apologies to Edgar Allan Poe.\n\n\n\"Lower the death’s head, as far as the string will reach --but be careful and not let go your hold of the string.\"\n\nNo portion of Jupiter's person could be seen; but the skull, which he had suffered to descend, was now visible at the end of the string. The death's head hung quite clear of any branches, and, if allowed to fall, would have fallen at our feet. Legrand immediately took the scythe, and cleared with it a circular space, three or four yards in diameter, just beneath the skull, and, having accomplished this, ordered Jupiter to let it fall and come down from the tree. \n\nWe set to work with the spades. One or two strokes of a spade upturned the blade of a large Spanish knife, and, as we dug farther, three or four loose pieces of gold and silver coin came to light. We now worked in earnest, and soon had excavated a pit five feet deep, whereupon the skull tumbled down to rest upon an oblong chest of wood. This box was three feet and a half long, three feet broad, and two and a half feet deep. Luckily, the sole fastenings of the lid consisted of two sliding bolts. These we drew back --trembling and panting with anxiety. In an instant, a treasure of incalculable value lay gleaming before us. As the rays of the lanterns fell within the pit, there flashed upwards, from a confused heap of gold and of jewels, a glow and a glare that absolutely dazzled our eyes. \n\nWhen, at length, we had concluded our examination, and the intense excitement of the time had, in some measure, subsided, Legrand, who saw that I was dying with impatience for a solution of this most extraordinary riddle, entered into a full detail of all the circumstances connected with it. \n\n…\n\n“…and with the rest of the adventure I believe you are as well acquainted as myself.\" \n\n\"I presume the fancy of the death’s head,” I mused, “of letting fall a bullet through the skull's eye --was suggested to Anne Bonny by the piratical flag. No doubt she felt a kind of poetical consistency in recovering her money through this ominous insignium. But your grandiloquence, and your conduct --how excessively odd! I was sure you were mad. And why did you insist on letting fall the skull itself, instead of a bullet through the eye?\"\n\n\"Why, to be frank, I felt somewhat annoyed by the complications Anne Bonny had arranged to stand between me and her treasure. I sought to upset the symbol she had left, and to reclaim it as a mark of my own triumph. Put simply, I just wanted her head on my chest.\"", "We were having problems in our marriage. Both of us knew one day we would separate and live our own lives. We were simply incompatible: I wanted someone to offer affection while she neglected everything around her. The only time she provided any ounce of love was while she was drunk. It was a wonder that we were together by some small miracle.\n\nThen she destroyed our only bond. The urge to swing my fist at her in retaliation was undeniable. I settled on expressing my emotions through tears rather than violence.\n\nI could smell the remnants of cheap wine each time she wailed. What I used to associate with love was now of hatred. Even with her puffy eyes and sudden outburst for His forgiveness, I felt no remorse for her.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" the nurse softly spoke. \"We did all we could. I'll give you two a moment.\"\n\nMy face was wet; my mind was blank. The nurse stepped out to give us a few moments alone. \n\nA few feet in front of us stood the bassinet that held our small miracle. The doctors advised against co-sleeping with newborns to prevent suffocation. We both heard and understood, or so I thought. \n\nShe looked up at me and I stared back. Each tear she shed was followed with sniffs and soft whimpers.\n\n\"Why did you do it?\" I asked. \n\nI noticed her struggling to focus her eyes on my face.\n\n\"I just wanted her head on my chest.\"", "This is my life, I'm so damn lonely\n\nI'd love that girl with all I have, if only \n\nSo I try my luck, I make my move boldly\n \nBut I freak her out, and she backs away slowly\n\n\n\nWhat do I do? I want her so bad \n\nThe very thought of her drives me fucking mad \n\nI'm losing my mind, not having her makes me sad\n\nI decide that she's mine alone to be had\n\n\n\nI approach her again, being a gentleman\n\nBut she won't hear it, she doesn't want me as her man\n\nI do my best, trying everything I can\n\nNow I've scared her, far away from me she ran \n\n\n\nFuck it. I have to have what is mine\n\nI'll do whatever, I'll cross every goddamn line\n\nI follow her, cut her head clean off her spine\n\nNow she's mine forever, she looks so damn fine\n\n\n\nNow I got what I want, I can finally rest\n\nNobody else would do, she was the best \n\nI sleep in peace, no more self detest\n\nAll I ever wanted was her head on my chest. " ]	4
	[WP] With medical science advancing, Pestilence retires and the remaining Horsemen of the Apocalypse seek a replacement.	[ "\n\n\n“These interviews are grueling…” The man in the red cloak grumbled. He shook his head and motioned to the two compatriots sitting at the table with him. “Two hours already, and no one is even remotely useful.”\n\n“Tell me about it brother,” The man in the dark black and forest green cloak spoke with a rasp in his voice. “I’d prefer these interviews be done sooner rather than later. I am a busy man.” He flipped the page in his ledger and watched as new names wrote themselves onto the page. George Luken, Age 65, Heart Attack. Sarah Tsmuni, Age 21, Drunk Driving/Car accident. “Alcohol, my greatest workload I tell you…”\n\n“I just hope whoever replaces Pestilence brings food.” The pale cloaked figure barked, his cloak barely hanging off his thin frame. “Why do you complain about the death reasons? That is kind of your thing after all.”\n\n“This was much easier back when the numbers weren’t so great. It seems people get off on dying so much. I remember when the numbers were so much lower.” Death sighed and flipped the page. “I mean, I also don’t feel like this is my job. I’m pretty sure the Grim Reaper should be on top of this. I guess the work load is too large for himself as well.”\n\n“I miss when we killed each other more often. Instead its death’s over booze, breakups, and fatty foods.” War whined to the pair.\n\n“The next one is coming, silence you fools.” The pale framed old man grumbled. The doors to the empty white washed room swung open wide. A young man with slicked back blonde hair walked in beaming with pride. His smile pristine and his chest puffed into the air. He wore bright yellow clothing that the old men equated with high fashion that, they had long tossed aside.\n\n“Welcome, state your main purpose and your best asset that you could provide to the horsemen.” War rattled off angrily as he licked the tip of his pencil. He placed the pencil to the tip of the papyrus scroll and began to take notes on the man.\n\n“You see, I have the greatest power of all time, it’s an art if you will.” The man flashed his winning smile and flexed his right bicep. “I can confuse, daze, and mesmerize all of earth, in fact I’m already working on it. I just given the right motivation can kick it up a notch. I’ll provide a tool for you to come and go as you please. Wreaking destruction and havoc without resistance.” The man in yellow stood tall and proud as he blustered this obviously rehearsed speech.\n\n“And just how do you plan to do that?” The man in the black and forest green cloak grumbled, half watching the man, half watching the new names appear on his list.\n\n“That’s really more than I have time to tell you, I’ll tell you more tomorrow if I get the job. I guarantee I can distract the world for ten seconds at a time, over and over again. A web of miasmic confusion laced in the hands of every man, woman, and child.” He slid his hand in his pocket as he spoke.\n\n“Well then, what is your name sir?” Famine asked his voice that of a lifetime smoker. The man in yellow grinned as he slid a device from his pocket.\n\n“Snapchat.” The man in yellow grinned and turned around taking a selfie with the three horsemen in the background.", "It had been a rough quarter century for Pestilence. First Hep C, then HIV, then the hemorrhagic fevers started to tumble like a waterfall of vowels: Ebola, Hanta, Lassa, bunyaviridae, filoviridae, rhabdoviridae. These were lean years, certainly, but it wasn't until the influenza virus, flagship of the orthomyxoviridae, that Pestilence admitted he was staring down the barrel of his own inevitable demise. Even his old standby rhinovirus looked destined for the chopping block.\n\nHe couldn't take it: the centuries, millenia, eons of love he had poured into these world-beaters, these man-eaters. The joy of sprinkling a timely Yersinia pestis while humanity struggled to wrap its collective brain around germ theory had gone, and in its place a work-a-day drudgery spent twiddling with Staphylococcus aureus against an ever-increasing armamentarium of antibiotics. His life's work, his purpose for existing, had become a chore.\n\n\"And that's why I am here: to announce my retirement,\" said Pestilence into the table. Famine gasped. War and Death were inscrutable.\n\n\"You know very well the penalty for abandoning your post,\" said Death. Pestilence nodded.\n\n\"Yes, well, when Peace some day reigns, and World Hunger is beaten back--as you know well it could be--then you two,\" he forked his fingers into a \"V\" at Famine and War, \"will know this despair. Mortality is preferable.\"\n\n\"So be it,\" replied Death. \"At the next sun-cycle, you will die by the plague of your choosing,\" he laid a skeletal hand on the table, \"now go and think on your demise.\" As Pestilence left the room, a silence fell among the three remaining Horsemen. \n\n\"It feels disingenuous not to tell him,\" said Famine. He turned a defiant gaze on Death, whose expression could not be ferreted out behind his blackout cloak. \n\n\"He must discover it on his own. We do not need Pestilence; we need our White Horseman. He must pass through the crucible of his own disease before he can emerge prepared to carry out his true purpose,\" said Death. War, who had been waiting for this moment, leaned forward.\n\n\"He shall arise Conquest, and together all humanity shall be destroyed,\" he said. A smile grew on his face.", "The boy sat at the edge of the world. His bare feet dangled over the side. The wind whipped at his black shirt and shorts.\n\nFar below him, night had fallen across the world. Spider-webbed patterns of lights glimmered in the darkness. Around him, pinpoints of light shifted as the ceaseless suborbital traffic continued to crawl.\n\nThe boy sat there, and he wondered.\n\nPestilence had been the first to go.\n\nIt had been gradual, at first. A decline in disease, new hospitals and medical wards springing up across the globe. Then the fight began in earnest - and Pestilence, slow to respond, was forced to admit defeat. He had sighed, put out his cigarette, and walked away into the dark.\n\nThey had sought a replacement, for a while. Pollution put up a fair effort, as did Corruption - but, eventually, even they too stepped down.\n\nOf the original three, Famine was next. Efficient distribution and production were finally reached, and the horseman left bitterly, sowing hunger left and right as he departed.\n\nWar's turn arrived when the world finally came together in a global peacekeeping initiative. She had smiled sadly, and sheathed her bloody sword.\n\n\"What about you?\" she had asked.\n\nHe had shaken his head. \"My work isn't finished.\"\n\n\"Will it ever be?\"\n\nHe had smiled faintly. \"Later, War.\"\n\nShe had saluted, and walked away into the dark.\n\nThe curve of the horizon parted as sunlight broke over the edge of the Earth. The boy squinted in the sudden light. Below him, a new day was beginning.\n\nThe boy sat there, and he wondered.", "\"Are you sure that we can't convince you to reconsider?\"\n\nOn the other side of the cracked laminate table, Pestilence shook his head. \"Afraid not,\" he repeated. \"Look, you've all seen the writing on the wall for a while. I'm just not useful any longer.\"\n\nPestilence's three companions all shuffled their feet, or lower appendages, rather uncomfortably. That silence was enough to confirm Pestilence's suspicions, although he held his tongue out of respect for their shared history.\n\n\"It just won't be the same without you, buddy,\" grunted the very large man wedged into the booth on the other side, shaking his massive head sadly. \"We've had a hell of a run together.\"\n\n\"Where is the waitress?\" hissed the skinny, emaciated man beside Pestilence in the booth. \"I'm ready to place my order!\"\n\n\"You've already placed four orders,\" the big man grunted. \"Can't you reel it in a bit?\"\n\n\"Starving children in Africa, and all that,\" Famine replied with a shrug of his bony, shrunken shoulders. He lifted up one hand, arm bones standing out beneath his skin, snapping his fingers in an attempt to attract the waitress.\n\nPestilence, meanwhile, shifted his gaze to the last of the four, the one who hadn't yet spoken. \"You haven't said anything about this.\"\n\nWE WILL NEED A REPLACEMENT.\n\nOf course, they'd all been thinking it. No one else had yet said it out loud, but they knew it was true. After all, the Three Horsemen of the Apocalypse? It just didn't have the same ring, plus there'd be an empty spot when they lined up to ride out and spread their plagues across the Earth.\n\n\"How about Annoyance?\" War shifted a little, struggling to fit his bulk into the booth. Thankfully, his companion alongside him was especially thin, almost skeletal, or else the booth would have given way. \"He's getting a lot of attention these days, especially with all those electronic doodads. Annoyances, the whole lot of them.\"\n\nNO. HE DOES NOT HAVE THE NECESSARY POWER. The thinnest of the four looked down, his black robe falling over his forehead. AND BESIDES, HE IS NOT A GOOD HORSEMAN.\n\nThey sat in silence for a few minutes. The waitress, finally reappearing, came over to check on them.\n\n\"Another two hamburgers, please. And a steak. And two orders of pie. No, three orders. No, just bring the pie.\"\n\n\"Another steak for me, but keep it rare. Bloody, almost.\"\n\n\"And for you two?\" she asked Pestilence and the skinniest member of the group.\n\n\"Nothing for me,\" Pestilence said, grimacing as he listened to the roaches skittering inside the walls and crawling into the sacks of flour on the floor of the pantry.\n\nI BELIEVE THAT I WILL TAKE A CUP OF COFFEE.\n\n\"Cream and sugar?\" the waitress asked automatically, even as her eyes momentarily unfocused at the sound of that rasping, inhuman voice.\n\nI TAKE IT BLACK.\n\n\"Of course you do,\" Pestilence muttered under his breath.\n\n\"You know, I have to reveal something,\" Famine piped up after the waitress went off to put in the new order. \"I may have kept in touch with our old member, from back in the day-\"\n\nWar groaned, scratching at his Viking beard. \"Ugh, not him! I can't stand how uppity he got. Insisting that he was the strongest, since he'd been around first.\"\n\nHE WAS HERE FIRST. HE WILL NOT BE LAST.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, we know that will be you, but still. Chaos can go chew on the sharp end of my axe.\"\n\nPestilence cleared his throat, a scratchy sound that made the rest of the diner's patrons reach for tissues in eye-watering sympathy. \"I do have another option. He is newer, but could be a good replacement.\"\n\n\"Yeah? Who? Bet he's not better than Chaos.\"\n\n\"Pollution,\" Pestilence put out, and then sat back. In the past, he might have feared the response of his fellow members at this suggestion, but he didn't fear it any longer. \n\nAfter all, he was retiring.\n\n\"Pollution? That uppity upstart in the white coat?\"\n\n\"Seems a bit sissy,\" War grunted, but that wasn't a no. He sounded considering.\n\nFamine and War waffled, but they all waited for the fourth member of the group to speak. None of them would ever admit it, but he was always the decider. \n\nHe did, after all, get the final word.\n\nHe considered for several minutes, those little blue flecks of light in his eye sockets impossible to read. PERHAPS, he finally said. A TEST RUN, IF YOU WILL. \n\n\"Yeah, okay. Like a tryout.\" War sat back, looking relieved that the decision had been made. He much preferred physical activities, bashing in skulls, than having to deal with all this thinking.\n\nWE WILL MISS YOU, STILL.\n\n\"Oh, I'll be around, I'm sure,\" Pestilence said, because it was the right thing to say at the time. \"You'll find me here and there, lending a hand. Guest spot, you might say.\"\n\nThe waitress returned with the plates of food, and Pestilence slipped away. He wasn't one for long goodbyes.\n\n*****\n\nObligatory plug: If you like reading my writing prompt responses, be sure to check them all out at /r/Romanticon.*" ]	4
	[WP] A couple is making their "free pass" lists, she lists a bunch of famous actors, his list includes a coworker...	[ "The couple sits around their dining room table. She is beautiful with long black hair and olive skin. He is a handsome older gentleman. She hands her list over to him. \n\n\"Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Casey Affleck, Scott Caan, Andy Garcia, Carl Reiner, Elliot Gould, Eddie Jemison, Don Cheadle, Julia Roberts, and Shaobo Qin. There's one noticeable exception there.\" He says with a smile. \n\nThe man hands his list over to her. \n\n\"One name? Betsy from accounting. She is pretty hot. You haven't right?\" \n\nHe flashes that smile again, and her face turns into a frown. \n\n\"Did you have sex with my cast mates from the Ocean's movies?\" He asks. \n\n\"No, of course not. Did you...\"\n\n\"No, Amal. I haven't, and I wouldn't.\"\n\n\"But, I'm going to add Betsy to my list too.\" She says. George laughs.\n\n\"Yeah, that woman transcends sexuality, like William Shatner.\" \n\n\"So, we're both adding Shatner, too?\" She says with a smile. \n\n\"This list just keeps growing and growing.\" Says George. \"But, I just want to make this clear. If Shatner happens, I'm going solo with him, no three way.\" \n\nAmal laughs and kisses him. \"Deal, as long as I get to watch.\" \n\n**\n\nr/nickkuvaas", "He nods as I mention each actor. His expression changes, becomes incredulous, disgusted, disappointed. When I am done, he comments on each actor, from Jamie Foxx to Brad Pitt, saying he can understand Aaron Taylor-Johnson, but definitely not Paul Dano. \n\n\"I don't know, he looks weird,\" he says.\n\n\"He's not* weird-looking\" I say, although I know he is, but I find the weirdness to be attractive.\n\n\"Well, for me,\" he says, \"there's definitely Jennifer Lawrence -\" \n\n\"Obviously,\" I say, not looking at the Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1 tee he wears that he got from the premiere.\n\n\"And Megan Good. And...\" He looks upwards to the ceiling and is lost in thought for a moment. \"And Trish. Trish Zanter. \"\n\n\"Trish Zanter? Who's that?\"\n\n\"Oh, a coworker of mine. She's gorgeous, fucking gorgeous.\"\n\nHe's still looking up at the ceiling and an expression of complete bliss comes over his face. I watch him for a moment, thinking he's going to grin and say he's joking but when he looks at me, his face twists with surprise. \"Why are you looking at me like that?\"\n\n\"You want to sleep with a coworker?\" I thought my voice was going to come out sounding a little higher but it's low and steady.\n\n\"Yes.\" He laughs. \"Wait, are you mad?\"\n\nI don't answer him. When I pass him to go into the kitchen he extends his arm, to maybe touch my thigh in an effort to placate me, but I slap it away. He makes a loud sound into the cushion and then gets up to try and take my arm.\n\n\"Come on, babe, you just mentioned a ton of actors and I was okay with it!\"\n\n\"Actors, Danny. I was talking about actors! You\" - I point my finger directly at his chest - \" are talking about a coworker, which is like real life, I mean the person is accessible, you could actually fuck her if you wanted. I can't believe you... You've been thinking about fucking your coworker when I'm your girlfriend?\"\n\nHe looks utterly helpless; his hands are on the back of his head, his mouth is open foolishly. I turn away from him and march to my bedroom - the wooden tiles creak under my feet like how the frogs do at night and I just want to tear one away from the floor and break it into pieces on his head. He is following me but before he reaches me, I lock my door and he is stuck outside.\n\n\"Babe, come on, I mean we were laughing just now on the couch - \"\n\n\"Go fuck Trish Zonto or whatever she's called! You man slut.\"\n\n\"Fine, I will then.\" He begins making stomping sounds, and then he chirps like how his car chirps when he unlocks it. He makes driving sounds and his voice is a squeal when he steps on his imaginary car's brakes. I'm smiling now but I still want to be angry with him, so I go back to my frown. He makes the stomping sounds again and he speaks in Trish's voice and its supposed to be seductive but it comes out as a screech and I'm laughing quietly as he's saying \"fuck me, Danny\" in that screechy voice and then I burst into noisy giggles. He's laughing too and I can't help it, I'm an idiot, I should give him more hell, but I can't help it. I open the door and his arms are open in that way he does so often: \"Am I forgiven?\"\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are transported ten years into the future for only ten minutes. You discover that the world has ended horribly. Fortunately: You can prevent it. Unfortunately: Nobody will help you because they all think youre crazy	[ "George approached his camera the same way many great men before him approached the podium. Instead of rancorous applause and droves of people. There was a desk lamp pointed directly at him, for lighting purposes, obviously. A mac book with the green light that signified \"this shit is being recorded\". Have you ever noticed how fun it is too look at yourself on the screen. That thought bounced around Georges head for a moment. His thinning black hair, from the horrors he saw during his travels to the future. His face outlined by wrinkles that each represented a distinct part of his life journey. Georgie here was going to save humanity. Joan of Arc was blessed by God and he felt his destiny was just as divine. A 3 hour tirade he went on, and shockingly enough the entire thing was truthful and packed with the information it would have taken the world to repair itself. He posted it triumphantly on Youtube. \"How to save the world, a step by step guide by someone who has seen the future\"....10 days later the video caught fire on reddit but for all the wrong reasons. The comments started to pour in. \"Fag\", \"You're dumb\" \"Eat shit\" \"I made 50k a week by working at home\". \nMoral of the story is sometimes people might tell you that 2+2=4. But the guy that told you that is shoving marbles up his ass. Doesn't mean hes not crazy, but it also doesn't change the fact that 2+2 is indeed 4 \n", "The America I landed in wasn't great, and it never would be again. The radiation, even ten minutes of it, cooked my insides painfully, I couldn't wait to get home and warn everyone about this catastrophe. When I got back, I called for a press conference, and spoke to the country.\n\n\"Guys, I've seen the end of the world, but just don't vote for Trump, and everything ends up fine.\"\n\nI watched as the entire populace of America shunned me for blasphemy, drooled all over themselves, and voted for Trump. ", "My mind flits unsteadily between ideas, questions and sudden passions that grip me with a fiercesome intensity that is growing stronger by the day. I can't keep focus anymore. We are running out of time. But not as fast as I - the only person who is aware of Earth's hastening march towards its end - am losing my grip on my own sanity. \n\nEvery day he foils me. Says something new that sets things back, destroys everything we've worked for. I just can't take it anymore.\n\n\"Robert Pattinson should not take back Kristen Stewart. She cheated on him like a dog & will do it again – just watch. He can do much better!”\n\nAt the time I thought I was going to pop a blood vessel. He stared at me as I tried to offer a critique he could interpret as praise. \n\n\"So fucking awesome, Donald - you jacked up that crowd! Honestly, I think they are so primed for you, you can skip the Twilight shit. You have somehow made the American public ready for an education - I'd say lead with the issues.\"\n\nSome part of what I said set off his hair-trigger sensitivity. The broad-chested, beaming expression I had come to associate with satisfaction quickly drooped into his defensive stance. He brushed his hair into place obsessively and stared at me with a hawk-like intensity that belied his kindergarten-level ability to rebut a critique. \n\nI stood silently, waiting. 90 seconds after my initial statement, he dismissed me with a shake of that hair and the following question: \"Really, Joan? What about the fucking young people?\"\n\n----\n\nMy family has always been split into two factions - Republican and Democrat. Neither side could stomach talking to me once they realized I wasn't joking about joining Trump's campaign. Both sets of grandparents threatened to boycott my wedding. But the joke was on them. All it took to ruin a relationship, it turned out, was a complete political transformation. Andrew broke it off in less than 6 weeks. \n\n-----\n\n\"When Mexico sends its people, they’re not sending the best. They’re not sending you, they’re sending people that have lots of problems and they’re bringing those problems with us. They’re bringing drugs. They’re bring crime. They’re rapists… And some, I assume, are good people.”\n\nI masked a scream as a sneeze when he went on this diatribe. In the middle of it, he looked over, beady eyes nervously searching for me. I had worked so hard to delve into his infantile mind and now I was among his most trusted advisers. But it took everything I had. I found his eyes that day, smiled back at him. I even flashed him a thumbs up. Only to be shouted down later when I suggested that we might, maybe, possibly want to consider leading with the idea that some Mexican immigrants are good people. It took weeks of ass-kissing to get back in his good graces. \n\n----\n\nI tried telling a campaign friend once. She hadn't talked to me since I'd left the Clinton campaign for Trump's. One evening as we passed each other silently in a New Hampshire hotel hallway, I just lost it. I grabbed her arm, spun her towards me. Her big eyes grew wider and more afraid as I began to stammer out the truth. \n\n\"Kallie - you don't understand! I saw it.. I saw something...that's going to happen. And it's worse than anything in history, it could be the end! But this can keep us safe! I know it sounds crazy, but Trump will keep us safe!\"\n\n\"I don't know what happened to you,\" Kallie said as she twisted her arm from my grasp. \"But I don't have time for this. Don't play crazy for me when you're well enough to bring your A-game as that asshole's campaign director. It's just sad.\"\n\n-----\n\n“I think the only difference between me and the other candidates is that I’m more honest and my women are more beautiful.” \n\nHe'd gotten clever somehow. I could somewhat make him see that blatant insults and degradation were going to turn off women voters. But this slightly more subtle misogyny was a minefield I wasn't sure I could navigate. He'd never back down from what he thought of as a compliment to female Trump supporters.\n\n“I’ve said if Ivanka weren’t my daughter, perhaps I’d be dating her.” \n\nI was so busy feverishly scribbling notes while huddling backstage that I almost missed this humdinger. I dropped my notebook with a groan while, on-stage, he grinned like an idiot at a thoroughly grossed-out crowd. \n\n\"Interesting notes here.\" A silky, high-pitched voice was in my ear. I tried to turn as someone behind me snatched my notebook from the ground, but a small, soft hand planted itself on my shoulder and roughly fixed my gaze toward the stage. \n\nThe erudite vocal quality takes on notes of incredulity,\"I've been wondering about you. Clinton senior adviser who jumps ship this far into the campaign.\" \n\nIn an instant, the voice becomes an inhuman hiss, \"Jumps ship to join that imbecile?\" \n\nI try again to turn. A steel-toed boot dives into the back of my knee. A handkerchief muffles my gasp and one hand slows my fall to the ground as the boot digs into my collapsing tendons. Worse than the pain is the claustrophobic sensation of having no control over my body. I no longer want to turn. I'm all too sure who this is. \n\n\"Joan?\"\n\nRelief courses through me as our Communications Manager Matt calls my name from behind us. \n\nThe voice behind me transforms from calculating to kindly, \"Dear, why are you alright?\" \n\nThe arms that were imprisoning me before lift me up quickly now. I stare down as he raises me up, declaring in a concerned tone, \"You need to eat something... you crazy youngins' do too much for your country, you know that?\"\n\nWhile Matt is still behind us, fingers dig into my arms until I yelp and meet his gaze. Pitch-black eyes stare back with such a naked hatred that I am stunned into silence. This man could be the end of all of humanity. The only thing worse than knowing this is what I am now sure of - that he knows I know. \n\nMatt's smiling. \n\n\"Well, thanks so much Mr. Chafee - I sure didn't expect to see you here!\"\n\n\"Well, you know what they say kids. Keep your friends close...\" he throws a nod to the stage, but his eyes return to my face quickly after. \"And your enemies just as close as can be.\"" ]	3
	[WP] The human mind only have 1 Terabyte of storage memory. Each second is equals to 1kb, which means you have 11574 days / 31 years worth of memories. One day before you hit your limit, your memories will be "reformatted." What memories will you retain? What will you erase?	[ "I heard of a girl who only chose her happiest memories, and spent the years after her reformatting making the same mistakes she had made during her virgin run. Then there was the businessman who chose all his grudges and dirty secrets; he killed himself, overcome with despair. I’m told that you have to find a balance, they have even written a special program that chooses all the right key memories for an Ideal mix of base memories. But I am a writer, and I’m only as good as the sum of all my experiences. When I sit down to examine even trivial moments of my life, I find them full of delicious subtle emotion.\n\nIf I delete the people who have offended me then I have no antagonists. The horrible movies I’ve watched, the kind that elicit comments like “I’ll never get that two hours of my life back,” are lessons in what NOT to write. And the girls who stole my heart and and hacked it apart with carelessness, they are my greatest treasure. What then can I get rid of that will not diminish my creativity?\n\n“Sir, you need to make a decision.” the technician tells me, fidgeting at the controls of the reformatting machine.\n\n“I know, it’s just, it’s all so important.” I say as I continue swiping through the different categories on the display panel in front of me.\n\n“Have you reviewed the recommended memory base?” the Technician asks helpfully.\n\n“It’s shit.” This answer obviously doesn’t please him. About midway through the S categories I get an idea. “How often can I come back?”\n\n“Well, as often as you fill up, until you die that is. But I should warn you, excessive reformatting can cause… abnormalities.”\n\nI tap my selection and add it to the, previously empty, delete folder. “Alright, that’s all I want to get rid of.”\n\nThe Technician shoots me skeptical look, “That’s all you want to get rid of? It’s only about a year and a half.”\n\n“Yeah, who the fuck needs to remember all the time they wasted on Social Media. Burn it, I’m keeping the rest.”", "It was something I thought hard about before doing. I had so many bad memories, and so many good ones. For many the choice would be easy. Out with the bad and in with the good. My first kiss at age twelve, holding hands with a girl on the shore of Lake Michigan. Many people would keep the memories of my Mom hugging me and the sunny warm days. \n\nWhat memories would I forget? The suicide attempt and the resulting hospitalization? The day my father left when I was thirteen? The awful girlfriend in college who treated me like scum? The way my Mom reacted when I told her I like girls and her face flashed briefly with disgust? \n\nThere were a lot of things to forget. The death of my first pet, being bullied in elementary school, heartbreak and pain and abuse and loneliness and depression.\n\nThere were many memories I had accrued in my 31 years. And on the eve of my thirty-second birthday I had to decide what would go. \n\nI closed my eyes and went back through time and all the things that I remembered. It was hard to choose because they all held merit and weight. Deleting something would take that experience away from me forever, and I would never be able to get it back. \n\nThen an idea struck. Maybe it would work, and maybe it wouldn't, but there was only one way to try. I sat down at my computer, letting my fingers fly across the keyboard. I recalled the girl at Lake Michigan and how I had bought her ice cream, how we had kissed on the shore and how from that moment on I had never felt strange for being gay, I had never felt unnatural or like no one would ever love me again. I deleted the memory because I had other memories of other women who had kissed me and shown me affection, and other memories of not having my sexuality define my worth.\n\nI deleted the memory of being bullied in elementary school and the way that the children had ruthlessly told me awful, hurtful things. I deleted it because I had plenty of memories of people being cruel and plenty of memories of people being good. I deleted certain examples of my siblings being mean to me, and certain examples of them being kind. \n\nI deleted the memories of taking standardized tests except for the GRE, which I would hold dearly until I could pass the information on to my own child. \n\nI left the abusive relationship in my head. I left my father leaving. I left the suicide attempt. I deleted the first night stands and the two chemistry courses I had taken in university. I left the memory of trying drugs and coughing up my lungs when I tried to smoke, and I deleted most of the memories of my friends borrowing money and never paying me back.\n\nAt the end of the night I had written so many pages of memories that were now gone. In my head swam bits of positive that almost drowned in the negative. My father, my girlfriend, my mother's face, my suicide attempt. I kept them because they gave me something. They made me more human. They helped me to remember where I was and how I got there. I didn't like them, but they were memories that shaped me and changed me, just like every memory is. I deleted what I had copies upon copies of. I sacrificed some of the good to remember my actions in certain situations and to try to prevent those actions from repeating themselves. \n\nThe next morning I woke up and looked at the document near my bed and read over the memories. They were nice, pulling at some distant part of me. I knew, logically, that they were mine. That they were events that had once happened to me. But there was little emotion that tied to them. \n\nIt much like reading the diary of another person. Sad and comprehensive and honest, and just the tiniest bit hopeful.\n\n---\n\nFor more, visit /r/Celsius232 " ]	2
	[WP] The most you've ever hated yourself.	[ "The unique thing about hate--the most sinister thing--is that you don't recognize you're in the throes of it when you have it. One second you're cool and collected and the next you're spitting fire and seeing red. It's only after the fact that you realize just exactly what you were feeling or what you've done. Nobody, really, chooses to be angry or hateful--it's something you fall into: the abyss you miss until you're disappearing into its depths. Until you're drowning in the black tar.\n\nSo, no, I never knew the moment when I looked into the mirror and despised what I saw, or when I received an \"A\" on a paper and just earned a headache, nor do I remember the first time I had food set in front of me and felt my stomach ping with hollow pain. I don't recall when the sound of my own voice drew my ire, or when love lost it's color. When I saw myself as nothing, and my eyes became opaque monochrome.\n\nThe thing about hate is that you never know when it's over or when it will end. It's not there until you're in it and it's gone when you begin to feel it. It makes you believe that you're weak, stupid, fat, slow, impossible, and that you can't live without it. Sometimes you stop and try to remember when you didn't have it, maybe when you were 13? 9? A toddler? An infant? But you never can tell--the hate will make you forget it.\n\nSo you try to bury it. Maybe it won't happen again, hell, maybe I just dreamt it. Maybe I am doing the best I can, maybe I am like everyone else, maybe the hate \"I\" harbors for \"me\" isn't special--maybe...Maybe you can go back to school, maybe you can have a career, maybe I can bring myself to eat today, maybe I can finally shower, maybe, maybe, I can pull myself out of bed. See the thing about hate, and think about this, is when you feel it, you feel it so completely you don't feel anything else. There's no joy, or happiness, or forgiveness, or mercy, or fear, or love or empathy. Just. The. Hate. I dance and drink, eat and fap--whatever I can to forget that I can't stand myself.\n\nSo when I'm asked, \"when's the most I've ever hated myself,\" the answer isn't a certain time or place, person or thing--it's everything. When have I hated myself? When haven't I hated myself!? When I press something sharp against my skin, or hold a bottle of pills in my hand, or make the wrong turn, or when I'm up all night because sleep means there's a tomorrow, or I tell myself I'm an idiot for something I said or should've said--that's my hate...and I hate it.", "Clad in his sweater vest, Mr. Maher clapped his hands before the two dozen middle schoolers in his room. He clapped three times. Then he clapped once. Then he clapped three times again. It was a ridiculous thing to do and an even more desperate attempt to capture their goldfish like attention spans, but for some reason it worked. It worked every freakin’ time. It was magical. \n\n“Okay class, for this chapter we’re going to try something a little different. I’m going to split you guys up into groups of four-”\n\n“Mr. Maher!” Julie’s hand shot up with vigor.\n\n“Yes, Julie?”\n\n“I’m not a guy.”\n\n“It was colloquial.”\n\n“Colowkweeuhl?”\n\n“It’s an expression, nevermind. I’m going to split you guys and girls up into groups of four as we study this next unit on Shakespeare. Each person’s going to read one of the sections for homework, and you’ll each discuss your notes in class the next day. That way you don’t have to read the whole chapter.”\n\nThe students seemed delighted by that fact. A quarter of the reading sounded far less tedious. Alex raised his hand. “Mr. Ma-HARE!” \nMr. Maher rolled his eyes. Yes, he knew his name looked a bit confusing to say on paper, but he made it very clear on the first day of class that it was pronounced ‘MAR.’ Alex had purposefully butchered his name that fateful morning in September, and admittedly, Mr. Maher had given a small chuckle at the joke. HUGE MISTAKE! Alex never stopped calling him that. Sure it was a little funny the first time, but halfway through the school year and a thousand beatings to a brutally murdered horse later, Mr. Maher called on every ounce of self-control in his being to keep himself from strangling Alex’s shit-eating grin off his face. It was okay though. Mr. Maher was banging Alex’s mom. \n\nAccustomed to receiving a perfect report card, Ms. Richardson must have been aghast to see the bold F in English for her precious son. Not long afterwards, Ms. Richardson invited Mr. Maher to dinner one evening to see what measures could be taken to help improve her little Alexander’s grades. He wanted to go to Harvard, you know. Amazingly, Alex saw huge improvements on his essays and tests. He won the award for Most Improved in English at the end of the year. \n\nWith a groan, Mr. Maher called upon the little shit. “Yes Alex?”\n\n“Can we choose our own groups?”\n\n“No. No, you cannot choose your own groups.”\n\n“Why not?”\n\nBecause then you would just pair up with your friends and do nothing but fuck off all day. “Because you guys will need-”\n\nJulie’s hand shot up.\n\n“Because you guys and girls will need to learn how to work with different types of people.”\n\n“What if I don’t like the people I have to work with, Mr. Ma-HARE?” Alex asked.\n\nTough shit, you little fuck. “Very often, usually, if not always, you will not like the people you have to work with.”\n\n“Do you like the people you have to work with, Mr. Maher?” Julie asked.\n\nThe young English teacher in his mid twenties sighed as his shoulders fell about an inch or so. “Julie, you’re gonna be in group 3.”" ]	2
	[WP] You discover that the Earth is a simulation because part of it isn't buffering for you.	[ "Hahhh. See, I was chasing three people down the street - it all echoes in my head, like I've done this before. I think I have. I'm never sure if it's the same people. Perhaps I am dreaming - only, I don't remember sleep. Sometimes there are more, sometimes they come after me, but usually they just run. It's the footsteps that give them away - when I hear them coming, I count to 10 and rush out of the alley, with my long nailed fingers extended. Most don't make it very far.\n\nI've been doing this for some time, maybe. I don't really have much of a life beyond this - truth to tell, I've never given it any thought. No need for thought when you've a job to do.\n\nBut this time - I was running after them, and suddenly it is as if they have stopped moving forward. I see their legs windmilling. I advance - for some reason, this does not affect me - and I draw my nails across their throats - one, two, three. As the blood sprays out, something else catches my eye.\n The door across the road flickers and suddenly it is gone.\n\nI am not the kind to be afraid. I never question what happens, I go with the flow.\nI walk through the door, into nothing. Things stretch, and squash, and before I can even register the right response to have, something grabs me bodily and I slide through space, out the same door I came in. There are only two people on this street, their legs windmilling as well. And then I see ..me. Or someone who looks like me. \n\nWe bare our teeth at each other, then he steps forward and slices their throats. I make another hissing sound, and jerk my head towards the door. We go out.. stretch, pulled, snapped into a third place where the world looks the same, and there are no people, but there is another one of us.\n\nThere are more of us. More, and more, and more. And as we travel, the way begins to change - it feels hot, and bright, as if we are become too much for it. And this world - this many worlds - its little corridor cannot handle our passing. We raise our sharp nails, with their bloody steel tips and BREAK it. \n\nTumble into the darkness. Hard rectangular shapes crash down around us. Shrieking little alarms from some of these shapes hurt our ears and we hiss and huddle. A rectangle of light opens - and there is the silhouette of a man. \nHe is flicking a switch off and on, but it remains dark in here. \nHe pulls a little flat shape from his pocket, fiddles with it, then raises it to his ear.\n\"Mike,\" he mutters into it. \"The Servers are down - all of them. Yeah, and the light's gone, too. Must have been a surge. Hopefully the backups have the data intact - yeah, they'll go nuts - just post a downtime notification on the forums or something.\" He puts the thing back in his pocket, and just stands there, scratching his head.\n\nThe Servers. Is that who we are? But we surely know how to surge! He is still muttering to himself when, as one, we roil forward off the floor towards him. He doesn't even have time to scream. The blood sprays so vividly! \n\nBeyond, there is a corridor, and beyond that, footsteps echo. \nWe know just what to do.\n\n______\n(edit - wooords!)\n\n", "“Shit. I’m gonna be late.” \n\nI quickly glanced at my wrist. My clock read: 8:57 AM. There’s no way he’ll hire me if I’m late to the interview.\n\nI grabbed my suitcase, made sure everything I had to have was in it, then tightened my tie and went outside.\n\nThis was my third job interview. I just wasn’t able to get a job before. And with all the student loans and whatnot, it’d be the best time as any to finally get one.\n\nI wanted to apply for a software producer. It was always interested in having a work based solely on making little tidbits in C++. Though I never expected for it to be this hard.\n\nI finally arrived at the building. My eyes were a bit misty, so I took off my glasses, got a tissue and wiped any dust there could be. My eyesight wasn’t the best.\n\nThe mistiness of the building didn’t go away. I squinted as much as I could. I realized that, while the building looked blurred, nothing surrounding it was too.\n\nUnsure, I walk a step forward and pulled out my hand towards the doorknob. My hand phased right through.\n\nI lost balance and fell into the building. It felt almost as if I was swimming, or in this case, drowning. It felt as if I was falling, yet, simultaneously, rising skywards.\n\nAll my muscles stopped responding. They just snapped into the falling pose I took when tumbling over and stayed like that.\n\nI started losing my consciousness. My eyes twitched, both in different directions, making my view a mishmash of two different angles.\n\n--------\n\nI clung back to life. I was a strange looking alien-like creature with blue skin and dozens of short tentacles in the place where my hands should be.\n\n-Ah, damn it! – I heard a voice. There were some people next to a table, sitting behind a window. – The buffering didn’t catch up? Jason, add “General Optimization” to our to-do list.\n\n-This game is so buggy! How could you have thought it was ready for release soon? – Another figure responded from the opposite end of the table, writing down something in a notepad.\n\n-Uh… Excuse me? What’s going on here? – I asked, rightly confused.\n\n-Heavens have mercy… - One of them said, pinching the skin(?) between his eyes. He grabbed a piece of paper and started reading. – Do not worry. The past something-ty years of your \nconscious live have been a beta test for a VR simulation game. You can now leave the room and carry on with your day. \n\n-O… Okay… - I mumbled, then left. I was still a bit queasy from the ordeal. It didn’t matter in the end though. It was just an hour long simulation.\n", "Told through the perspective of him talking to himself in his head. We all do it lol.\n\nAlarm goes off\n\nSonofa... I swear I just put my head down for like two seconds. Alright, alright, I'm getting up. Uuuugh. I feel like a zombie this morning. Okay lets see, tell myself I'm never drinking again, check. Shower time.\n\nWell that was less than enjoyable, felt like the water never got hot.. Steam was rising, mirrored fogged up, never got hot. K... that's a first, then again, I did fail physics in college. Probably some weird, this atom is rubbing this molecule in such a way... damn putting myself back to sleep. Gotta get to the air port this morning for this stupid meeting, I mean really you'd think they would pick a flight time when the sun was at least up! Hey wait, it's like ten in the morning, where's the freaking sun? Whatever, too hungry to think straight.\n\nAhhhh food, sustenance, the very thing I love most in this cruel world we live in. Oh look there's the sun, seems awfully high for something that just rose.. ooooookay, getting back to that physics thing, just stop, we know it won't end well for our brain. Let's see what sort of videos we have on reddit this morning. HA! I love cat videos. Damn it come on, load faster! buffering.. buffering.. buffering.. 15 seconds. K, now start it over and it will play straight through without any problems this time. Crap the flight!!!!\n\nWhew! Made the last call for boarding! Now that's some classic action film star moment stuff! Oh sweet, moving already. And I got a window seat, not bad not bad at all. Still pretty tired though, probably grab a nap.\n\nWell that was refreshing, lets see where we are, flying over Nevada? Cool lets see what the deserts look like. What the..? It's dark? Okay I'm way too much of a nerd cause I would almost say that looks pixelated... I'm just gonna shut this window and \"try again later\" as they say.\n\nSeriously what the hell?!?! It's all dark! There's nothing down there? That should be California! It's just black nothingness! Wait, whats that. Okay, the world is.. slowly.. loading? Streets. Houses. Sky scrapers. Still no people, oh what there's one. This is weird.\n\nI've seen this movie before. It wasn't very good either. So I just saw what can only be described as the world literally buffering... did I get a picture? Of course not! That would be the smart thing to do! Now if I try to tell people the world is some kind of computer program, straight to the looney bin....\n\nAlarm goes off\n\nSonofa... I swear I just put my head down for like two seconds. Alright, alright, I'm getting up. Uuuugh. I feel like a zombie this morning. Okay lets see, tell myself I'm never drinking again, check. Shower time.\n\n...\n\nNevada huh? yeah, nice desert down there, I can see so far! All sand, eh boring." ]	3
	[WP] Your parents are murdered I front of you as a child, you dedicate the rest of your life to training yo be a super hero, But your first night doesn't go as planned	[ "(First post, haven't written for a while but I just spontaneously commented.)\n\nBackground info: A is having a conversation with his sidekick B whilst hiding.\n\nA: Alright, you ready?\n\nB: Yep\n\nA: Masks?\n\nB: Check\n\nA: Pepper-spray?\n\nB: Check\n\nA: Ammo?\n\nB: check\n\nA: Good, now we just gotta wait for the dealer to show up\n\nB: Hmm...yeah...\n\nA: He is coming right?\n\nB: Yeah, yeah I told him, Amber Avenue right?\n\nA: Good. What time?\n\nB: 8pm\n\nA: Well its 9pm now, where is he?\n\nB: No idea\n\nA beckons B for his phone\n\nA: Oh god...\n\nB: What?\n\nA: How can you be so stupid?!\n\nB: What did I do now?!\n\nA: You know that you have caller id on right?\n\nB: So?\n\nA: What kind of dealer would agree to meet up with someone called 'Kriminal Killer'?!\n\nB: I kinda like that name\n\nA: That's not the point!\n\nB: oh\n\nA: Don't you dare 'oh' me! I've spent 18 years preparing for this moment! This dealer was meant to be our first \nclue to catching my parents' murderer.\n\nB: Only 2 years for me actually...\n\nA: You son of a...\n\nB turns away from A\n\nB: Help me redditors!\n\nA: Don't you dare break the 4th Wall!\n\nB: But...\n\nA: I DON'T CARE\n\nA looks over B's shoulder\n\nA: Don't mind us. Keep reading.\n\nB: Hey! You just broke the 4th wall again!\n\nA: Shut up! I was fixing up your mistake!\n\nB: Oh, so its my fault now?!\n\nA: Thats right! Its always your fault! Thats why we always stuff up!\n\nB: Only this time...\n\nA: THIS IS OUR DEBUT! DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND THE IMPORTANCE OF THIS?! ARRRGH! I CAN'T BELIEVE I LET \nYOU DO THIS WITH ME!\n\nB: THATS IT! I QUIT!\n\nA: OH NO YOU DON'T! Don't you dare go quitting on me!\n\nA and B break into a brawl, tumbling out of their hiding spots and as they bicker, the dealer walks onto the scene.\n\nDealer: Asuh dudes. Sorry I'm late. So...um...which one of you guys is Kriminal Killer?\n", "SuperJako sits boredly on her couch, eating popcorn and drinking a warm bottle of water, as she watches Inside Out again. \n\n\"I'm so bored...\", she says.\n\n\nWhy was there no crime? Would it kill a person to rob a bank or something every once in a while? God, how was she supposed to be a superhero if no one committed any crimes?\n\n\nSJ's phone rang with her special ringtone \" Heroes\" by Alesso. She snatched it up and flipped it open.\n\n\n\"Hello? Yes, I'll be there as fast as I can!\"\n\n\nSuperJako leaped up like a bunny rabbit on steroids and ran into her room. She pulled her purple mask down over her eyes. She popped a strawberry mint into her mouth, grabbed her lipstick/knife and ran out the door.\n\n\nIt took a while, but she finally got to Northpark Mall. Through the glass, she could see tons of people sitting in the food court, and five men wearing ski masks were standing around with black pistols. Jako caught one of the criminal's eye, and he shouted something and pointed at her. Two men stepped on adults and children as they rushed to get outside. \n\nJako pulled put her lipstick/knife as the men approached her. \"Back off and let these people go! Or else!\"\n\n\nThe two men looked at each other in surprise, and then began to laugh. One of them asked,\" What are you gonna do with that?”\n\n\nJako yanked the top of her supposedly lipstick/knife. She gaped down at it as she saw actual lipstick. Jako squeezed the lipstick tube in her hand, breaking it to little pieces and smearing her hand with the makeup accessory." ]	2
Cool writing promp	[WP] The cold air wisps around your face as you stare into the bunker. You know they are in there, but fear has made you hesitant, and your not sure if you can do it....	[ "It must have been ten minutes we sat there staring at that old abandoned building.\n\n\"So whats the job again?\" Pierce asked as I lit a cigarette.\n\nI took a deep draw and replied \"Apparently there is an old fallout shelter or something in the basement of that building. Our job is to torch it and get out before anyone shows up.\"\n\n\"Eh, sounds simple enough.\" I heard him say. I could tell he was looking out the window by the way his voice was slightly muffled. \n\n\"Doesn't it always?\" I said as I exhaled the smoke from my nostrils. Something didn't feel right. About any of it, the air especially. I was wearing thick jeans, a hoodie and gloves. But something about the chill on that breeze still made its way in and stuck to my skin.\n\nAfter another five or so minutes I broke the silence. \"Hey Pierce...\"\n\nHe looked over, \"Yeah?\"\n\n\"I'm calling an audible. I'm going in alone, it'll be faster if I just do this myself. Keep the car running would ya?\" I looked over and he gave me a quick nod.\n\nI opened the door and tossed my cigarette down a nearby storm drain and pulled the jerry can of gasoline out of the trunk, being careful to shut it quietly. I made my way to the side of the building and pushed the door open cautiously. \"Heh, just like they said\" I murmured to myself. I waited and listened a couple more moments before I turned on my flashlight and headed down the stairs. \n\nThere were still signs on the walls. Dusty and rusted, detailing procedure should the bombs drop. I admired them for a moment. It was like stepping back in time. I shook myself back to the present and continued down a damp, concrete hallway until I came upon a large blast door. Everything started to get odd from here. How the hell is fire even going to phase a concrete room with a blast door I thought to myself. It didn't matter. I was already paid. I did a quick check on my six and popped the lid on the jerry can. \n\nI started sloshing gasoline up on the blast door and the walls when I heard it. It was all I can do to keep from dropping the can. \n\n\"Hel- Hello?\" I froze listening. The voice was quiet, I couldn't tell if it was because of the thick door or if it whoever was talking was weak. \"Help me...Please...They'll be back soon. Hello?\"\n\nI wasn't sure what to do. I started looking around and my heart began racing. No one said anything about people being in that bunker. Or whatever you would call it. I inhaled to respond when down the hall I heard the echo of screeching tires coming to a halt, honking and Pierce yelling at the top of his lungs. \"Get the hell out of there Carson! Run!\" ", "\"Sammy.\" Called my uncle. \"Sammy.\"\n\nI stared down into the bunker, and I tried to pretend I wasn't scared of being alone. \n\nIt was the last word on his lips when the bombs hit, and it was the only word his nuclear-rotten brain would say for the next thousand years.\n\nI soundproofed the bunker for a reason. \n\nHe raised milky-white eyes, uncomprehending, and smacked his lips together.\n\nSmack.\n\n\"Sammy.\"\n\nHe'd been calling me down for dinner that night. Now he just wouldn't shut up. But there was no use keeping him alive, no use keeping either of them as reminders of dead people walking.\n\n\"You're a corpse.\" I shouted back at him, from the entrance. \n\nSmack.\n\n\"Sammmmmyyy.\"\n\nHe shuffled towards the light of the open door, a moth to a flame, I gripped my gun tighter. He didn't even know what he was saying, how could he? The fucking zombie called the dog Sammy, he called his fucking lunch Sammy. \n\n\"You hearin' me you son-of-a-bitch?!\" \n\nOf course he didn't. Smack. Smack. Went his toothless mouth.\n\nThey were all I had. \n\nSomewhere in the back, my aunt was growling.\n\nI couldn't do it--\n\n\"Samm-\" He called out.\n\nI slammed the door shut, I chained it, I locked it, I held my gun to my heart.\n\nTomorrow. \n\nI'd do it tomorrow. ", "The taste of salt bitterly echoes on my tongue as I wipe the sweat pooling on my lips. Despite the cold breeze I can't help but ooze watery beads from every pore. In the silence of the dusk I can hear the drip of the water falling to the dusty wooden floor. The only other noises are the whispers coming from rusty hatch before me. I know they're in there, but I hesitate as long as I can. Fear grips my heart in a way I've never felt before. I do not want to go into that hatch.\n\nMy squad entered this village only two hours ago. Little more than a shanty town, it lies on a river's edge. Despite the eroding banks eating away at the hastily assembled homes my XO seems confident of its strategic value. We sweep the town house to house, room to room. Our orders are simple: shoot anyone who might be a soldier. Most of the slum is empty. It seems like it evacuated in a panic when they saw the ashen wall rising over the forest and heard the sound of battle drums pounding away at infantry over the valley's crest.\n\nRat-at-at \n\nPop pop\n\nAn AK first, and then the sound of an M16 firing two rounds in the distance. My radio squawks. \"Contact. No injuries. Over\" \n\nHe means no friendly injuries, of course. Twice more in the hour I hear the disgustingly familiar ring of gunshots crack in the brisk air, followed by a check in. This sweep is going well: I haven't seen anything. If we're lucky the area will be secure in another hour, and we'll be set up and sitting down in two. I'm hungry enough now that even an MRE seems like a feast. It's already been a long day in the dirt, and I've never been suited for the cold.\n\nAs if the brunt of some divine joke, movement flickers ahead of me, dispelling my dreams of rest. I buzz in, letting my team know that I'm in pursuit. My feet sink into the cold dried mud as I sprint forwards, hoping to catch whoever it is off guard. I round the corner quickly but cautiously, rifle at the ready. I see a flash of tattered maroon disappear around the corner on my left, and I dash to the right, hoping to cut them off. I round the second corner, running just a tad too fast, and I stumble into the open, completely cover-less.\n\nI got rambunctious, and it could cost me my life. I brace myself, preparing for the metallic kiss of death against my chest, but it doesn't come. In half a second my rifle is back up and I'm again moving to cut off who I'm chasing. The mistake didn't cost my life, but it cost time. Just enough that I don't have the jump on them.\n\nI hesitate again when I see who I've been chasing. Two boys, maybe sixteen; one is in a tattered maroon scarf, and the other is taller and holding what looks like an old Lee-Enfield rifle. Couple of damn kids hiding out here. I doubt they had anywhere else to go, even after seeing the destruction slowly raging towards them. Before I can do anything, they slip into a shack down the corridor ahead of me.\n\nI move into the building, if you can call it that, cautiously. I'm always careful to learn from my previous mistakes. At first I'm confused: the home is empty. I think at first they must have slipped out a loose part of the wall in the back. That's when I see the hatch. Left slightly ajar, it betrays the trust they put in it to hide them away. I radio my XO. He repeats his orders. \n\nThey have nowhere to go, and I know what I need to do. I wait as long as possible to enter the hatch, savoring the pure dread I feel. Fear unlike any I've felt before. I'm not scared for my own life; I'm scared for theirs. I climb into the dusty bunker, trying to speak words of calm over the boys. They stare at me with uncomprehending eyes filled with nothing but terror. I must look like a demon in my full gear, ready to drag them off to horrors unimaginable. The taller one has his bolt-action raised, standing between me and what must be what's left of his family.\n\n\"Please,\" I beg, \"Please put your gun down, I won't hurt you.\" \n\nThe red-scarfed younger brother whimpers, and his brother says something I can't understand to calm him. He barks something at me. He acts brave, but I can see his wide eyes and shaking gun. As he trembles with fear, his finger slips under the trigger guard, and rests against the switch that would mean my death.\n\nMy training takes over, and I quickly snap and fire my M16. \n\nThe boy drops lightly on the ground, there wasn't much meat or muscle to fall. Blood pools over the gun in his limp hands and his brother screams. Pure grief needs no translation. The dirty maroon scarf becomes a rich scarlet as the boy scrambles in the bleeding life covering the floor, searching for the rifle. The dead hold selfishly to what they died with, desperate to take anything with them to the unknown, but between the fear and the grief the younger boy rips the soaking rifle from his brother's hands. I fire again, and the younger boy falls, cradling his brother and his gun in his final second.\n\nMy eyes open wide, soaking in the darkness around me. My heart pounds like a million screams. I swear I can feel the blood violently curdling through every vein. She puts her hand on my naked back, but I barely feel it. All I feel is the pain, the memory, the regret. \"Same dream as always?\" She asks, carefully, and with a love I don't deserve.\n\nI weep in reply.\n\n\n", "The colors of their eyes and the stubbles on their cheeks. \nTheir messy hair I saw and their tired breaths I heard. \n\nMy heart was beating, first steady then fast. \nI knew this was it, would I or they last?\n \nWind wisped off my face and my heavy gun in hands. \nThe shadow’s dance I saw and their agony I heard. \n\nMy mind was racing, first calm then wild.\nWas it done or not, did I fear or defiled?" ]	4
	[WP] Humans have gained the ability to fly, but at a strange cost, which is unique to each individual.	[ "Gregory was whizzing around squirrely in the sky, he had been up there for days (apparently, his family had been talking about it) and refused to come down. Someone said he had gotten really close to a transformer and later a fisherman said he had hydroplaned into the local lake. No one really knew what would happen if he stayed up there, but it was definitely getting worse. Five years ago, Gregory St. Vincent DeArmond had been a pretty successful malpractice attorney for none other than DeArmond and DeArmond, the other being his father. Now he was nearly toddler level IQ, and any progress he had made would be ruined.\n\nI flew up to him, he was easy to catch, besides being clumsy now he also had gained quite a bit of weight. Once he saw me I just flew down to the earth, I knew that he would immediately follow me, like a child. Once we got close to the ground I halted abruptly, for only a second screeching to a momentary stop which he wasn’t expecting, and when he flew past me I hit him in the back of the head with a blackjack… hard. \n\nI could tell Ms. DeArmond wasn’t too happy about that, when I got him to the front door a lump had noticeably formed on the back of his skull. I knew she wouldn’t say anything, because the searing headache everyone knew I would get had already started to manifest and she could see it on my face, and if I stopped getting her husband he would die, because I knew she wasn’t willing to lose an inch of height for an invalid.\n", "Everyone finds their own way to leave the ground. Some people make 'getting high' into a literal experience. Some people pray or meditate. Others throw themselves into their art. The one thread in common is that every person gives a part of themselves up, becomes lighter. Maybe you give up your mind, part of your capacity for rational thought. Maybe you give up your will, and subsume yourself into a higher order. My dad would put on headphones and play his precious Beethoven and Brahms and give up his conscious interaction with the world. He'd float, eyes closed, through the house, a dreamy smile on his face, bobbing and swirling in time to the music. Invariably it would end with him bumping against the ceiling or floating right into a wall, and he'd come crashing back down to earth with a bang.\n\nMy mother powered herself off the ground through sheer resentment. \n\nHer ability to fly used to be tied to her poetry, she'd tell us time and time again. Growing up, she'd cloister herself in the school library to avoid going back home to a pair of barely-functioning alcoholics. She'd lose herself in reading, in poetry, dreaming of a future where the books would have her name on the cover. She'd tell me about the first time she flew, right after she asked someone else to read her poetry. She said she'd been anxious, her soul bared on the page, as if her protective skin had been flayed away. As if she was raw and open and suddenly incomplete. \n\nFlying to her was an anxiety, a thrill. She loved it and it made her sick to her stomach. While my dad floated aimlessly, she'd cut through the air. She'd go higher, faster, push the limits harder than any of her classmates. She'd thought this was her escape from the dysfunctional ties of family that kept her leashed to the ground. Then she met my father. \n\nLove had dulled her edge, she'd rant on the afternoons when she'd finished a bottle of wine over the course of the day, as my father floated off somnolently towards the ceiling and I sat huddled in a chair, not daring to speak. She'd fallen in love with him, gotten domestic, traded in her dreams of flight for dreams of a home and garden. They'd married, and while she kept on writing, kept being able to fly, she'd long since lost the edge she had in college. Instead of cutting through the air like a falcon, she'd bobble through it like a goose. But flight was flight, and it was only - and she'd point at me when she said this, her finger jutting out like a talon - once she got pregnant with me that she'd lost the ability to fly altogether. \n\nI had been a difficult birth and a colicky infant, leaving her worn thin to the point of tearing. Having a child necessitated giving up poetry for a more regular paycheck. She'd gotten a job at an ad firm, a tedious job that consisted of rearranging buzzwords to prepare for presentations. Her parents would make repeated calls wheedling medical funds out of her, her father slowly dying of cirrhosis of the liver. Dad was balancing his own job with completing his master's, and would spend his time at home either cooped up in his den studying or bobbing against the ceiling, trying to unwind. My mother would watch him, floating senseless to the world, and feel the pull of every single thing that kept her tied down to earth - her job, the kitchen, her husband, me. \n\nShe hadn't flown since I was born, she'd tell me over and over as I grew up. I'd scrapped all possibility of flying for myself as well, feeling my mother's weight bearing down on me. After what I'd taken away from her, what right did I have to take to the skies? \n\nI was eight years old when we first noticed it happening. She was drunk again, ranting at me, working herself up to such a pitch that she was vibrating with anger, vibrating off the ground. Mom, I screamed, pointing to her feet, and she looked down, almost in awe, as she realized she was floating off the ground. \n\nIt was less that she was giving something up, and more that she was propelling herself by sheer repulsion, like the principle of magnetic levitation. In the days and weeks that followed, she'd buzz across the house like a hovercraft, working up her resentment, letting it fuel her. She seemed happier, she started writing poetry again. My dad and I cheered her on. We thought that maybe things were going to change, that something good was happening.\n\nUntil that one day I came home to find that she had once again taken flight. According to our neighbors, she'd spent all day indoors building up resentment, taking it in until the windows shook with it, until they'd thought the house was going to vibrate itself to pieces. And then, in one mighty thrust, she'd taken flight, launching herself through the ceiling and collapsing part of the roof behind her, disappearing into the sky like a rocket. \n\nDad and I had put our home back together, periodically staring out through the collapsed roof, searching for any black speck in the sky that could have been my mother rocketing back home towards us. But it was too late. She'd given up everything that was tying her to the earth, and gone soaring buoyant through the stratosphere. I imagined her, floating through space, out by the stars, weightless. \n\nI'm seventeen now, and I like to think of her, and the stars, as I float up by the night sky. In the end, we'd been weighing each other down. There's an empty space inside me, like an anchor that's been cut loose, and everyone else in town marvels at my ability to take to the sky at a whim. Sometimes I think maybe I'll just keep floating higher and higher, up through space and out by the stars, and find my mother waiting for me there. Other times I think to look down, and see the whole world down there glistening bright below me, and think I've got my whole life ahead of me to find something worth staying grounded for. " ]	2
	[WP] A man and his body-heat-powered watch dies and is buried. After a few days, the watch dies. After a few weeks, it starts ticking again...	[ "\"So I went to graveyard. You know I like it here. Nice and quiet, fresh air, reminding your life ends somewhere. I'm out of that cringy goth phase but it's still kinda nice to go there once in a while. And you won't believe what happened.\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"So I'm kinda almost meditating and all and I hear ticking, like a clock. Just suddenly started at one moment. Spooky shit I thought, I was all alone and I had nothing that could tick.\"\n\n\"You sure you weren't high that night?\"\n\n\"No!! So that shit's really quiet, like from underground, like a clock is buried or something.\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"And, like, I'd understand if it was ticking the whole time, but it just started one moment and damn that's scary, but I didn't shit myself, I'm not you. Like, it's not like hell exists and some little devil fixes clocks at his free time. So I try to follow that ticking.\"\n\n\"No but you really were high, how could you even follow something so quiet...\"\n\n\"I don't know, I just did. Like I said, I was completely alone here and it was hella quiet. Okay, so I follow the ticking, yeah, and after a while I find where it's coming from.\"\n\n\"Oh really.\"\n\n\"Stop that sarcasm and just listen dammit. So I light up where it could be coming from. Seems to be a new grave, like a month old. But I never heard anything from there earlier, seriously. And, like, what the fuck, clock just starts ticking and it's so loud I could hear it like 50 meters away. And then that grave started moving a little, like, crumbs going up and down, I dunno, I was just like, fuck this shit I'm out and quickly went home.\"\n\n\"And you still think I'll believe you weren't high, right?\"\n\n\"Ugh let's just go there tonight to check up, I hope it's not like zombie apocalypse is starting, I'm not ready for that.\"\n\n\"Fine but if there's nothing to prove your babbling then you buy me a pizza.\"\n\n\"Deal!!\"" ]	1
	[WP] "We all have our personal demons. Almost all fear them, but my demons, they fear me.	[ "As other people's personal demons fear \nMy very presence, I have used this gift \nTo my advantage, made it my career \nTo pull these fiends from the souls they inhabit. \n\nAnd whether vice is gluttony or lust, \nI'll drive the demon out of any man. \nYou say his demon is his stinky musk? \nI'll cure that too with quick and clever plan. \n\nAs demons go, they're great and sometimes small, \nWill kill or merely inconvenience you. \nTo me it doesn't matter, not at all. \nFor any devil, I can its curse undo. \n\nI'm master, curing everything's an art. \nI've mastered my gift to expel devil's mark.\n", "He, he isn't human. He's beyond humanity. We were there, since his birth. We taunted him, bullied him, we hurt him. But, he then changed. I don't remember the exact day that he changed, but one day he started to do things that he wanted to do. He didn't listen to us, he just did what he wanted. \n\nFear tried to reel him in, but it did nothing. He just does what he want. He listens to us, yes, but if we want him to control, he abuses, ignores us. Same thing with his other emotions. He does no longer strive after happiness;he only strives after power. Morality was no longer a strict thing; he bends it when he needs to. His group instincts tell him to follow the crowd; he goes his own way.\n\nWe have no power, in this place. He is the master. He could castrait us if he wanted, but he chooses not to. He occasionally listens to us, but we just offer suggestions now. He listens to his instincts, but he is not led by the, a slave to them. We cry for him to listen. He never does.\n", "This prompt is good but seek to find and know,\n\nOf all those who combat evil today\n\nOr of the Saints on Earth here long ago,\n\nWho've never actually gone away.\n\n\n They intercede still just as in their life,\n\nTo aid the chosen against the demons they fight,\n\nFrom a place beyond all sorrow and strife,\n\nPassed but still sharing in spreading the light.\n\n\nWisdom, her name, who was least is now most,\n\nNo demon could touch her, not one ev'r did,\n\nThe queen of all of the heavenly host,\n\nHer heel crush'd the serpent, because of her Kid.\n\n\nShe whom Lucifer himself could ne'er defeat,\n\nIs the best Lady you'll find, Mary is sweet.\n\n", "If you came across the wooden hut in the middle of the forest, you'd think some highly skilled workman built it. The planks of the walls were finely filed, there was a stone chimney, and even a bathroom with a wooden tub. There was a kitchen complete with a furnace and an area where she slept at night.\n\nShe was the one who built everything, she was the only person recorded living in that area. But if you asked her how she managed to carry the chimney's large stones from the river or how she perfectly filed each piece of wood, she'd shake her head and say it wasn't her. She'd say it was Tom. And Kano. And Ona. If you asked her who these people were, she'd point to her empty bed. If you looked confused, she'd explain.\n\n\"They're sleeping,\" she'd say in that hoarse voice. She'd refuse lozenges if you offered her any.\n\n\"Who's sleeping?\" you'd ask.\n\nShe'd roll her eyes and not answer you. She'd watch her fingers like she'd never seen them before and start flicking the dirt from beneath her fingernails. \n\n\"I need to take a bath,\" she'd say, suddenly embarassed, as if just noticing you were there.\n\nAfter her bath, you'd really appreciate how good-looking she was. The grime on her face would be gone and she'd offer to make you tea. You'd decline, of course.\n\nThen she'd sit next to you on the floor and say, \"They're resting because I made them work so hard in the morning. But it's only for an hour. I hate laziness and they know that. Them.\" She'd jerk her head towards the bed and smile as if expecting praise for her kindness.\n\nA while later, she'd scream at her bed. Get up! Now, Kano. Get UP! I swear, Tom, I will tear your face off right now if you don't go clean up the shit in the bathroom RIGHT NOW! Move it! Ona go to the river and get more fish! I want more fucking fish! MOVE IT! Kano, get out of my fucking sight! You'd watch in horror as she ran in fear to the bathroom and start diligently scrubbing the floor, the toilet, the sink. You'd watch as she sprinted to the river, sobbing, fishing rod bobbing on her shoulder, catching fish like a pro, muttering about a \"she\" who would punish her if she didn't get at least 20 fish. She'd caught \"only\" 16 by sunset and the dread was choking her up. You'd watch her kneel in the middle of the hut, and say she got 16, to no one in particular. She'd then start screaming in a voice different from her normal voice: don't punish me, I beg you, I beg, I'll do better next time, please, PLEASE! and then she'd start choking herself and you'd just stand there rooted on the spot. She'd then get up, and say in her normal hoarse voice, addressing the floor, \"Next time when I say 20 fish, I want 20 fucking fish. Tomorrow you better bring 40 or I swear I will fucking end you, you hear me? I said, do you hear me? You - Kano - take her and go wash up her eye and I better not hear you two talk behind my back.\"\n\nThen she'd look at you, smile pleasantly enough to light up her pretty face, and say, \"Would you like some trout soup?\"", "\"I don't like this,\" Abuse told the squatting demon. \n\nSorrow didn't reply. The demon continued to sit in the park, watching Berry perform his morning jog with a mix of disgust and admiration. As the man took another left turn in the park, the demons were, once again, completely ignored. At first, this was a point of astonishment for the two figures stalking the man. But now... \n\n\"I said I don't like this!\" \n\nSorrow mumbled something. Despite the sudden focus from Abuse on the squatting demon, this too went ignored. Either Abuse heard the demon or didn't. Sorrow could care less as Berry took his fourth lap for the morning. \n\n\"Answer me!\" \n\nAbuse was getting too familiar. Sorrow sighed. \"It's a new record.\" \n\n\"What? What is?!\" \n\n\"Berry's running,\" Sorrow replied. If there was a border between despondence and pride, the demon was sure he found it. How they were feared, once. \n\nThen the demons began to leave. \n\n\"Why?\" Sorrow asked three months ago. \n\n\"He's talking to people again,\" a demon. \"It's freaky, I --- I gotta get out.\" \n\nSo the demon called Isolation left. Then another. \n\n\"Why?\" Sorrow asked two months ago. \n\n\"Berry lost thirty pounds,\" replied another demon. \"He actually did it. I can't take it Sorrow. I just can't.\" \n\nSo the demon called Discouragement left. And another, to Sorrow's regret. \n\n\"Why?!\" Sorrow pleaded a month ago. \n\n\"I love you Sorrow,\" whined a demon. \"But... Berry's moved on. I must as well. I'm sorry.\" \n\nSo the demon called Hatred left. Berry no longer hated himself. In fact, he began to love himself. Berry came around the corner again, plodding on the park walkway with two-month-old Nike shoes. \n\n\"Damn.\" \n\nAbuse railed on the comment. \"WHAT?! DAMN WHAT?!\" \n\nSorrow would have told Abuse it was Berry's first time running two miles since he tried that half-marathon years ago. Like Abuse would have cared. So the demon went ignored once more as Berry passed them by. A man could only sweat so much, thought Sorrow. And Berry left behind the water bottle again. This can't last. \n\n\"Damn you then!!\" \n\nThe demon looked up to the convulsing anger of Abuse. \n\n\"Why?\" Sorrow asked simply. \n\n\"I've watched him longer than any of you,\" declared Abuse. \"No matter where I stand, or how I provoke him... at one time, he would flinch! And crawl to his bedroom! Then he laughed at me a few months ago, and now he ignores me!\" \n\nSorrow didn't reply. \n\n\"He IGNORES me!!\" \n\nIn the distance, Berry stopped by a water fountain. \"Oh.\" \n\n\"Yes?!\" Abuse replied desperately. \n\n\"Berry didn't need a water bottle. Fancy that.\" \n\nThen the oldest and most terrible of demons that stalked the man called Berry fled, never to be seen again. Sorrow tried ignoring Abuse as best he could, but found it difficult with all that whining and raging. How Berry managed it in the past three months, Sorrow wanted to know. \n\nCould be that the man moved past his Abuse a long time ago, and the demon only just realized it. How this was done, Sorrow missed it. So maybe by watching a man who can piece himself together again, and ridding himself of his demons, could Sorrow move on one day. \n\nSorrow wished to have done more, so that fellow demons would continue to jeer, and laugh, and torture Berry. At least there was distraction for the despondent demon. Now there was only an autumn breeze, the distant thudding of jogging shoes, and the deep breaths of a man on the mend. \n\nThe demon sighed. Berry still carried Sorrow with him. The last one. \n\nA man lost the demons he grew up with, who abandoned him out of fear. Why this was cause for, well, sorrow, the demon did not understand. Berry would have to grow out of that familiarity eventually. And when he did, the deep sadness that jostled and bumped the man would become duller, and duller, and nothing. \n\nThe sorrow would become nothing. \n\nSuddenly, the jogging steps stopped. \n\nSorrow looked up. \n\nBerry stared down at the squatting demon in the park. \n\n\"Where's the other one?\" \n\n\"Gone,\" Sorrow replied. \n\nThe man took a deep breath of Fall, and blew it out. Berry ran further than ever today. He was sweating. And breathing. And exhausted. Yet the man charged down the walkway. Sprinting. Pounding the pavement, cheering for himself. \n\nI DID IT, a voice called further down the walkway. \n\nJoy. It fueled him. \n\nBerry moved past his Abuse after all this time. It was cause for great joy. \n\nAnd Sorrow welcomed it. \n\nThe demon's time was finally coming. \n\n-----------\n\nMore at r/galokot, and thanks for reading! \n" ]	5
So that's the basics, I suppose the things your filling in is the who what and why. Also feel free to change the premise slightly if you can make the story better in doing so. I just like the initial idea and want to know what happened and how. Ps. I love this community it's so beautifully creative.	[WP] a person who's homie is time travel g to get the autographs of us presidents on money only to find that shortly after getting one of their autographs the bill has changed faces.	[ "“You’re sure you didn’t say anything out of the ordinary to him?” said Maurice.\n\nReggie rubbed his temples. A mosquito buzzed past his ear. “No, no, nothing I can think of.”\n\n“You’re sure?” said Maurice. “Cause a minute ago, I had a pretty nice house and a Bentley in the garage. Now I’m standing in the middle of a forest!”\n\nReggie nodded in agreement. “I could see how you would be suspicious.”\n\n“Suspicious? Reggie, I know something went wrong. The last three we were in and out without a problem. This time, you got cocky and tried to chit chat. What did you say to him?”\n\nReggie played back the interaction in his mind. “Well, first I said, ‘Good afternoon, Mr. Lincoln.’ And he said, ‘Same to you, good sir.’ To which I giggled. Then I asked for his autograph. He examined my pen more than Washington did. And then, oh—”\n\n“Oh?”\n\nReggie grimaced. “Yeah, oh. I was getting ready to leave and then I said, ‘It’s too bad you got capped at Ford’s theater.’”\n\nMaurice’s eyes nearly exploded out of his skull. “Reggie! That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”\n\n“Sorry bout that. I forgot.”\n\n“Now we have to go back and fix this mess. I need to find a laundromat.”\n\nMaurice pulled out his phone. Several bills fell to the ground. \n\nReggie bent down to pick them up. Between them, they could only remember two of the faces on the bills. The whole plan had been Reggie’s idea. After he had found out about Maurice’s abilities, Reggie had been searching for the perfect implementation. Maurice had shot down several initial ideas for being too risky. He was painstakingly cautious about changing the past. This one had seemed harmless enough with still the potential to make them rich.\n\n“Six hundred miles!” said Maurice. “Did we teleport too?” The blue pathway ran from Atlanta and ended outside of Washington D.C.\n\n“Uh, Maurice.” Reggie fanned out the money. Each note had a different value, but all potrayed Lincoln.\n\n“Siri, tell me about Abraham Lincoln,” said Maurice.\n\nDing ding. “Abraham Lincoln was the last president of the United States and first supreme ruler of North America. He was elected on a platform of social justice, but radically shifted his approach at the end of the Civil War after a run in with a would-be assassin at Ford’s theater. Afterwards, he denied the southern states their surrender and proceeded to abolish the Confederacy entirely. His war path continued, eliminating political threats and ruling unopposed for another forty years. Upon his death, power shifted to his son. The Lincolns are still in control and spreading their conquest across the world to this day. Constant war rages on in Abraham’s name.”\n\n“Reggie, we really need to go back.”\n\n“Yeah, next time, I’ll just ask for a picture.”" ]	1
	[WP] It's the year 2020, and the election is led by Ted Cruz on the Republican side, and Hillary Clinton on the Democratic side. However a 3rd candidate is rapidly rising in popularity. Representing the People's Party, The Rock!	[ "Success had come in droves for the past 4 years. A balanced national budget, improved education, a marvelous gold plated wall successfully keeping mexican's from smuggling drugs, and a strong military had all been hallmarks of the highly successful Donald J. Trump presidency. Unfortunately, due to out of control carotenemia, President Trump decided to retire after what was being heralded as \"The 4 golden years\". \n\nThe democratic party, unsure of what to do after the untimely death of Bernie Sanders, turned to their half-assed second option: Hilary Clinton, to try a seize some dignity back for the blues. \n\nYet, the most intriguing of all was the average American's enthrallment with celebrity politician crossovers. What started with the likes of Arnold Schwarzenegger and Donald Trump had now evolved into something great. Kim Kardashian had recently been appointed to the House of Representatives in California. Chief Keef ran, and won, the Mayor-ship of Chicago. Even in the capital, Senator Buster Posey and Chief Justice Marshawn Lynch were shaking things up. What this movement towards celebrities had culminated in was a resurgence in a third party: The People's (magazine) Party. \n\nFunded heavily by Tabloid websites and newspapers, as well as legitimate news sources like \"CNN\" and \"The Onion\", The People's Party was championing the buffest bods ever to run for President. Dwayne Johnson, now 47, was leading the charge and taking everyone with him: figuratively and literally. His running mate, also a dashing athletic type was the first in history to release his own running ads:\n\nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2G2w77jrayw", "\"Do you smell what the Rock is cooki-\"\n\nThe laser guided missile came from the sky so quickly barely anybody saw it. It was not even a foot long and struck the stage with pinpoint accuracy. \n\nAfter Clinton's victory in 2016 and the start of World War 3 during a rather scripted \"emotional menopausal moment\" following the death of close friend Betty White while she vacationed in Europe, everybody knew that Empress Clinton was only conducting the election to appease the masses. \n\nThe Rock was the latest attempt at freedom by the withered lower class; which now numbered 97.5% of the US population. \n\nEmpress Clinton had simply closed the entire world bank system after peeling her face off and revealing a lizard carapace at Wall Street and now the Illuminati was preparing for phase 2:\n\nA one world government. Shortly after the Empress' victory speech, all communication started shutting down and the internet went offline. Pulse weapons began exploding in all of the world's cities.\n\n6.8 billion people died in the first week of November, 2020, and a new world was born." ]	2
	[WP] Your fridge becomes possessed by a demon. You keep mistaking the unholy signs for a faulty fridge, moldy food etc	[ "I used to love being an angel, but as it turns out, God is kind of a dick. It was an honest mistake. I thought the wisemen were supposed to bring gold, Frankenstein, and myrrh. But no, apparently a monster is not an appropriate gift for the baby Jesus and I should have known better. And then stupid Nate had to come down and fix the whole thing. I hate that guy. He's kind of a dick too.\n\nSo there I was, de-winged and thrown out on my ass with my harp and a pink slip. Since my instrument was all I had left, I decided that I would go down to Earth and become a street musician. Unfortunately, that did not go too well on account of my invisibility to mortals. Having failed at that venture, I proceeded to apply for a job in purgatory. But apparently those paper pushing bureaucrats had already run the numbers and the cost-benefit analysis was not in my favor due to my \"proclivity for disaster.\" And so I had but one place left to turn.\n\n\"Unwelcome to Hell. How can I torture you today?\"\n\n\"I'm here to see Satan.\"\n\n\"Walk across the bridge over the Pit of Despair, take a left at the geyser spewing brimstone, and take a right at the group of gluttons moaning in hunger. The devil's manor should be right in front of you. Can't miss it. But just between you and me, I'd skip the pitchfork gift shop. It's a total rip-off. Endure your stay in Hell and have a terrible day.\"\n\n\"Thank you very much.\"\n\nAfter a brief, unpleasant walk, I reached the residence of the devil himself and was quickly ushered into his office by a demonic behemoth with gleaming, razor sharp teeth. Apparently, all the lawyers in Hell had argued for a great dental plan. \n\nThe devil sat behind a tremendous ebony desk bellowing into his phone. \"WELL OF COURSE WE HAVE A PROBLEM, MYRNA. I COULDN'T FIND THE CRIMSON SUIT THIS MORNING AND HAD TO WEAR THE SCARLET SUIT. THE SCARLET SUIT, MYRNA. THE SCARLET SUIT. ALSO, CAN WE PLEASE HAVE POT ROAST FOR DINNER? Alright, honey, love you too.\"\n\n\"Wives, am I right?\" Satan chuckled.\n\n\"Well, actually, Your Sinfulness-\n\n\"Don't bother with the formality. Feel free to call me Lucifer.\"\n\n\"Lucifer, heavenly beings are celibate. God says so.\"\n\n\"Ah yes, that old grouch and his stupid rules, am I right? We'll find you a nice succubus to settle down with soon enough. Anyways, what can I do you for?\"\n\n\"Actually, I'm here to apply for the position of fathering the Antichrist.\"\n\n\"You're just a bit too late. We just hired someone for the position. Some fallen angel named Nate, I believe?\" \n\nStupid Nate, I thought.\n\n\"But I do believe we have some openings in the possession department.\" Lucifer hopped out from behind his desk and walked to his bookshelf. He pulled out a massive tome bound in human skin with the title Damned Souls emblazoned on the cover. He flipped through the pages before stopping on a name. \"Alan Thomson. The second highest rated air-conditioning repairman on Yelp in Tucson, Arizona. Doomed for using the express lane for more than ten items and always taking up two parking spaces. Now, your job is to possess Alan so the residents of Tucson shall know the true heat of hell. Do you know how to complete a demonic posession?\"\n\n\"Ummmm....\"\n\n\"Excellent! Hell recently switched from Deathsteeds to the terrible razor scooter. It is, after all, the most evil form of self-propelled vehicular transport. Oh, this is just dandy. Best be on our way!\" Lucifer clapped his hands twice and I materialized outside the fiery gates of hell in a puff of smoke. \n\nUnsure of what to do, I climbed aboard the scooter and held on for dear life as it began rising rapidly. Soon I burst up into Alan Thomson's grimy little apartment. Alan was bent over face in the fridge, exposed plumber's crack in the air, pawing around for last night's spaghetti. Not wanting to enter...that way, I swerved, aiming for some other, less distasteful orifice. I was thrown off the scooter into the refrigerator. Having found the spaghetti, Alan closed the fridge door.\n\nI sat there in the darkness, dazed and confused, cursing that stupid Nate for stealing my dream job. In a moment of rage, I threw the mayonnaise jar at the fridge door. I heard Alan shift in his chair. Perhaps, if I made more noise, he would open the fridge and I could possess him. I threw a bottle of ketchup, a glass container of meatloaf, and three bottles of beer. Finally, Alan's heavy footsteps approached the fridge. Unfortunately, I was stuck in a large, disgusting puddle of something disturbingly sticky. After a cursory inspection, Alan shrugged, cleaned out the fridge, and closed the door. \n\nI groped around in the dark for my scooter. Hoping to turn on the fridge light, I attempted to blow the door open with a nice, angelic summer breeze. As it turns out, demons do not create nice, summer breezes. Apparently we conjure up a scent somewhere between the stench of rotting flesh and taco bell farts.\n\nI once again heard Alan walking towards the fridge. \"What the hell is this?\" he said. Alan took a giant sniff and promptly passed out. Still unable to free myself, I resigned myself to possessing the fridge instead of Alan. Curious about my new powers, I willed myself to conjure once again, this time causing a layer of black sludge to appear in the deli drawer.\n\nAlan came to shortly after' Noticing the black sludge he opened the deli drawer. \" Well, that explains the smell,\" he said and removed the drawer for cleaning. While his back was turned, I conjured enough black sludge to coat the entire fridge interior. \"Mold grows quick, I guess,\" he said. Alan wiped down the entire fridge and went to bed.\n\nAt precisely 7:15 the next morning, Alan opened up his fridge only to be drenched with a tidal wave of blood I had spent the entire previous night conjuring. Visibly shaken, Alan unplugged the fridge, loaded it into his truck, and drove as quickly as he could to the dump. He unloaded my fridge with a sigh of relief. Fuck, I thought, this was my last chance and I failed. I curled up in my puddle of syrup and cried.\n\n\"Hey loser,\" said a familiar voice, \"What did your dumb ass do now?\"\n\nI sighed deeply. \"Hi, Nate.\"\n\n\"I've got something for you,\" he said. I gritted my teeth as he gave me an absolutely terrible wedgie and inadvertently freeing me from the syrup.\n\n\"You can't even possess a stupid air conditioner repairman correctly and now you're stuck in a junkyard. What you gonna do, walk back to Alan's?\"\n\nThen, I had what is possibly my only good idea in the past 2,000 years. \"No, I'm not. Hey Nate, look over there.\" As Nate spun around, I grabbed his razor scooter out from under him. He tumbled down the pile of garbage onto his ass. I rode away on the scooter with the fridge, leaving Nate howling curses in the mud.\n\nI arrived on Alan's doorstep shortly after dusk. I rang the doorbell and set the fridge ablaze.\n\n\"AAAAALLLLLLAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNN, LLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEAAAAVE AND NNNNNNNNNEVERRRRRRRR RRRRRETURNNNNNN\"\n\nAlan screamed like a little girl and slammed the door. Not more than a minute later, I heard the squeal of tires as his truck drove off into the night. Lucifer is pretty certain Alan moved to Detroit, but not even Satan himself wants to go check.\n\nBest of all, at the end of that quarter, I received a performance rating of \"Acceptable.\" Suck it, Nate.", "\"Who the HELL left the door open again!\"\n\nThe fridge rumbled as if affirming my displeasure. The slice of pizza I had scored at the GlobalTech Meet and Greet last week was a sad affair with the pineapple all covered with green mush. I'd have to make some other dinner plans now. Looks like another all nighter to get the assignment done on time.\n\n\"I know, right! I boiled two eggs for breakfast and they smelt funky. I just got them the day before yesterday!\", Wilson chimed in.\n\n\"Are you serious! No wonder I had to rush to the bathroom mid class to day. Why the hell wouldn't you throw them all if they were bad.\", Peter yelled as he walked into the kitchen.\n\n\"AHA! So you are the one eating all my food. I bet you were the one who ate my fried chicken and greens yesterday. Dude you said you don't even like southern food! And you didn't even bother throwing the box away. I open the box and all I get is the bones.\"\n\nBhrnnnnnnnnn!\n\n\"Jesus, what's wrong with this refrigerator. It was working fine until last week. What's that blackish liquid?\"\n\nI reached out dabbed some of the dark red goo trickling down the back. \"Smells metallic. We should probably get this looked at.\"\n\nBhrnnnnnnnngnnnnnnnn!\n\n\"Haha, it's making those double voiced noises like we saw in that movie that day. I think it'll be cheaper to just get another one off Craigslist. It's been a year since we found it off the curb. Let's just leave it at the corner near the Church.\"\n\nFirst ever response after months of lurking on this subreddit. Would like some constructive criticism.", "Natalie made a small disgusted sound as she slammed closed the door of the fridge and turned to face her date. \"I'm so sorry,\" she moved so she was blocking the refrigerator door. \"I thought we had milk but turns out we don't!\"\n\n\"Oh it's no problem,\" Daniel shrugged. He peered past Natalie as though still trying to look inside the fridge. Natalie blushed.\n\n\"It's my roommate. She...god, I love her but she's such a mess. Like, she has some problems with her head or something. Super sweet girl but...I might be looking to move out soon.\"\n\n\"Problems?\" \n\n\"Like okay. I wasn't going to show you this, but I will.\" Natalie stepped away, pulling open the door of the fridge as she did so. \"Like, she does this all the time. Spells out messages with ketchup and takes the food out so it goes bad and then puts it back in. That's why we don't have any milk. I tried to take it out but it was gross. That and like, the fridge is kind of bad and doesn't regulate very well. Sometimes starts banging like someone is inside of there. Ugh. This whole apartment is kind of a dump, I know, but I promise my room is nice.\" \n\nDaniel gave her a small, wavering smile. \"It's okay. You know, maybe I should just go home.\"\n\n\"Oh please don't,\" Natalie made a pouting face. \"It won't be nearly as fun if you go home. Let's just watch a movie. I can order pizza or we can run to the store and buy soda or milk if you want. It will be fun. I promise. Please don't judge me because of the state of my fridge.\" \n\nThe fridge started to rumble and shake at that moment, seeming to tip from side to side violently. Daniel stared at it. \"Is that...normal?\"\n\n\"Yeah. Just an old faulty fridge. What can I say? I keep asking the landlord for a new one and he says this one was put in two years ago. But I mean, look at this fridge. It's like a billion. Whatever.\" \n\nDaniel was reluctant to prolong the date but felt little choice as he was dragged to Natalie's room. She pushed him inside, pressing her body against his and bringing her lips up to his as she began to kiss him, pushing him back to her bed and then tipping onto it with him. \n\nHe made a motion to stop her and then ended the kiss as gently as he could. \"I'm just going to get some water real quick, ok? Just from the tap. I'll be right back.\"\n\nNatalie pouted, screwing her mouth to one side, but did not stop him from leaving. He slipped out from under her and tugged down on his shirt. She heard the sound of him walking into the kitchen and opening drawers looking for a glass as she spread out on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Then there was the noise of the fridge opening and closing, quick footsteps and the sound of the apartment's front door.\n\n\"What the fuck?\" Natalie asked herself as she rolled off of bed and walked out of her room. There was no sign of Daniel, and when she tugged open the fridge she knew exactly why.\n\nDIE, DANIEL, DIE had been written in ketchup in her roommate's usual spot for messages. \n\n\"God dammit Ellen,\" she shook her head as she closed the door of the fridge. The fridge rattled and shook and moaned as she walked away. " ]	3
	[WP] An alien disguised as a human ends up in a mental hospital	[ "She blinks too slowly. Three hours I’ve been here, and that’s the main thing I notice. She blinks as if she is doing it manually, like she has to remind herself to do it. Maybe a form of catatonia, I think, as I write a note in the margin. Depressive tendencies. How big a psychometric blanket can I throw over this patient to capture what’s gone wrong underneath?\n\nHer mouth opens and I wait patiently for her to speak, even though I don’t expect anything particularly illuminating. I gently rebuke myself, but I still don’t know what I’m going to conclude when I walk out of this room, and it’s beginning to wear on me.\n\nShe lines up her actions like she’s placing dominoes. Softening of the lips, jaw dropping, throat unclearing, and a guttural noise from the back of the throat that if I’m lucky, comes together to form words. Usually a domino topples over too early though, and the action collapses within itself. \n\n“Aaaaaaa,” she sounds, “aaaaaaahhhhnnn you understand mmmmme?”\n\n“I can,” I say, “keep talking to me, I’m here to help you.”\n\n“Ssssssssshhhha,” she pauses and I flip through the diagnoses in my head. Schizophrenia, that’s a good vaguery. What will they accept? What can I get away with here?\n\n“Can you tell me what your name is?” I ask. Again. “Where are you from?”\n\n“Maaaaaa,” that sound was childlike, a little unsettling coming from a woman who looked barely younger than I was. She lined up another action. Lateral movement of the forearm across the small tabletop, bending of the elbow until her arm pointed straight upwards, a complicated organisation of fingers to form a fist, with the index finger pointing at the ceiling. The universal sign for up.\n\n“Rrrrrrrsss. Skkyyyyy.”\n\nShe blinked again, too slowly. So slow that I saw another set of eyelids blink behind her human skin.", "Dr. Skyler took a seat, examining the man in front of her. He certainly looked alien enough. His eyes bulged out of a misshapen head that twitched atop his skinny neck, and he moved like his skin was a size too small for him. \"Sir,\" she said. \"Can you tell us who you are? You were found wandering naked by the side of the highway, saying something about 'the mothership'.\" \n\nThe man fixed his bulbous eyes on her as if he was looking at some specimen through a microscope. \n\n\"This is the Trenton Psychiatric Hospital. You were brought here for psychiatric evaluation. Do you understand what's happened to you?\"\n\nThe man swallowed and slowly worked his lips, and Dr. Skyler found herself thinking of a frog. \"There's - there's been some sort of mistake,\" he said. \n\n\"All right. Go ahead and tell me what happened. Oh, and can you tell me your name, please?\" \n\n\"My name is Xarcon Antilles,\" he said slowly, enunciating each syllable. \"I'm from a planet in the Alpha Centauri star system. I am part of the alien species known as the Ixilid, sent here as an advanced scout to Earth.\"\n\nDr. Skyler couldn't stop a smirk from flickering across her face as she jotted down notes. \"Mm, so you're an alien scout to Earth, is that right? And what is your purpose here?\"\n\n\"There was an accident in the transport, a malfunction with the engines. I was abandoned here by my fleet without any equipment. I need to contact the mothership. This is urgent. The hostile Carrian race is already en route to conquer Earth as we speak!\" His head was jutting out at her, his skin growing flushed. \"Unless I can contact my superiors, the invasion is eminent!\"\n\n\"And do you have an Earth name? Some sort of ... undercover identity here on Earth that we could look up?\"\n\n\"No, no! I told you already! The mission was aborted! I was abandoned here!\" He stood up and slammed his hands on the table. Immediately two orderlies stepped towards him, and Dr. Skyler quickly held up a hand. \n\n\"Sir! Mister ... Xarcon, was it? I'm going to have to ask you to remain calm. I believe we can resolve this by just talking with each other. But if you're going to continue being physically aggressive, we're going to have to restrain you and possibly medicate you, do you understand?\" \n\n\"Y-yes,\" he muttered, and sunk back down into his seat. \"But you must understand the gravity of the situation-!\"\n\n\"All right. Now this was your initial evaluation. I'm going to schedule a more involved therapy session for tomorrow morning. Can this wait until the morning, Mr. Xarcon?\"\n\nHe dropped his eyes to the ground, seemingly defeated. \"Yes, I suppose. We will have astrophysicists at this session, won't we?\"\n\n\"Well, ah, I'll see if I can arrange that. Good night, Mr. Xarcon. These gentlemen will show you to your room for tonight.\" \n\nAs Xarcon Antilles was led from the room, Dr. Skyler leaned back in her chair and let a snicker escape from her lips. Ixilids from the Alpha Centauri star system! The things one heard in a mental hospital! But then again, she supposed, how could an Earthling hope to know that her people had exterminated all life in Alpha Centauri two generations ago? ", "In 1887 I landed in London, England. I am what you might consider a biologist, with a strong interest in anthropology. \n\nI took over the idenity of a prominent aristocrat and began to settle into my surroundings. In 1888 I began my biological research into the human anatomy - a fascinating species, so very basic and small minded and yet somehow they had gained a kind of sentience. \n\nMy anatomical pursuits were soon put on hold due to certain discoveries made by the local populace. With interest in my character growing, I left London and travelled to the United States of America, a newer nation and an overall better choice for studying modern human culture.\n\nFor many years I watched and learned about humanity. I saw the flaws and I slowly began to see the potential. \n\nI saw humanity almost tear itself apart during two world encompassing battles - arguments over land and the minipulation of the many people for the gain of the very few.\n\nIt was after the world's second battle that I decided humanity needed my intervention. I could show them the path to a non destructive future. In 1947 in the state of New Mexico I made first contact. It did not go as planned. Infact, I was lucky to survive the encounter. My craft was not so fortunate, and so I became stranded on Earth until my mission completion date far in the future.\n\nIn 1956 I tried again, but this time I did not go to the government. Instead, I made arrangements to meet a respected journalist. I told him that I had adopted a human idenity, that I was really from Xenoth Beta 821, and that I had the knowledge to save his species.\n\nI successfully managed to persuade the journalist that together we could make such changes to humanity! He told me to wait in the newspapers office whilst he brought some important, infulencial friends to meet me. I had finally made the break through!\n\nI twist my neck as far as my singular spine will allow me. The padded room is a pleasing white but the jacket that restricts my arm movements taunts me. If I could only free an arm...\n\n", "\"Flabbit blegh\", I told the nurse. Of course, this isn't what I actually wanted to say. Courtesy of my natural speaking apparatus, my telepathy, my species had no experience moving human mouths.\n\n\"Yes, dear, now where does your next of kin live?\", the nurse politely asked me. Poor soul, she has no idea that an extraterrestrial is sat before her. I could always try telepathy on her, but I'm afraid she might not understand.\n\nTo ease the troublesome situation I tried moving my human's mouth again. \"Kit slosh, anfl sssssspiggin.\"\n\nThe nurse was clearly trying to contain her laughter. At least she was calm. I had heard of previous attempts at manning a human vessel. They went straight to drawing images of our species and our technology, but unfortunately they were locked away by the government. That's partly why I'm here. My task is to rescue a colleague whose name can't be pronounced or visualised in non-telepathic media, so let's just call them Jeff.\n\n\"I'll be back in a moment, sir. Someone is here to meet you.\" The nurse gently patted my shoulder and promptly left the room I had been placed in. It was a small and claustrophobic room. Prison cells for my species are far nicer than this. Apparently rooms of this size are just right for most humans, so I didn't take it for granted.\n\nOutside the room's only window were several birds fluttering around a tall willow tree. This side of the building overlooked a pretty forest biome. Wildlife, flora, the standard natural scene. Quite like my home planet, yet the birds were twice as small and our equivalent of trees were spherical blobs that slowly pulsated as they exchanged gases with the atmosphere.\n\nAs the nurse returned to my room, four men in white hazmat suits shortly followed. Oh dear. Things are about to get messy. Even the dear nurse looked nervous. I hope she doesn't die.\n\nOne of the hazmats approached me quite urgently. \"Welcome. We...\" He chose his words carefully and seemed to know who I really was. \"We welcome you with extreme grace to this planet, and hope you are here with good intentions regarding the future of mankind and our habitats.\"\n\nWhat a mouthful. I appreciated their extensive positivity. Other species would simply grunt and try harming me, or immediately engage ranged weaponry. I anticipated that at least one of the hazmats was armed with a gilon filter. A gilon filter interferes with our telepathy, courtesy of idiots like Jeff who go around boasting our tech.\n\nI could try searching their minds, but others have warned that telepathy causes nose bleeds in humans. I'm not taking any risks. Now, how am I supposed to communicate with this gentleman? \n\n\"Flegh\", I mumbled.\n\n\"He can't speak properly. Or he's faking it. Either way, he won't reply coherently.\" Said the nurse.\n\nThe closest hazmat turned to the nurse and gave a look of disappointment. \"Have you tried pen and paper?\"\n\nShe smiled in agreement and rushed to the monitoring room.\n\n\"We found your ship\", the hazmat stared at me intently.\n\nOh. I've screwed up this time. Here I am trying to save Jeff and now someone else might have to save me. I wondered, was Jeff here to save someone else? I wouldn't be surprised.\n\nThe nurse returned, pen and paper in hand. \"This should suffice.\" She passed the pen and paper to the hazmat, who then signalled another hazmat stood behind him to get a table.\n\n\"Drag that bedside table over, will you?\"\n\nThe legs of the table screeched their way across the wooden floorboard, polluting the airways of the corridors. Mister hazmat clumsily placed the paper and pen on the table, his hazmat gloves too thick for precise hand gestures, then prodded his index finger several times on the sheets of paper.\n\n\"Now you can try talking to us\", he spoke to me as if I was a toddler, hoping I comprehended his intentions. \"Can you use those hands?\"\n\nI leaned towards the table and prepared these human hands. The hazmats swiftly stood back, presumably to prepare for any drastic movements I might make.\n\nI gave the fingers and thumbs of both my hands another test drive, making grabbing motions in mid air.\n\n\"That's it.\" said the main hazmat.\n\nThese hands weren't too difficult to control. Our species' hands, despite having four of them instead of two, were very similar but lacked a little finger. Given most humans' apparent neglect for their little fingers, my dexterity was almost normal.\n\nThe nurse and four hazmats all gazed at the paper, waiting for a decent response at last.\n\nI drove the fingers in the right directions, and after several seconds I was done writing. I turned the paper around to face the four hazmats and the nurse who had been patiently watching me.\n\nThey each leaned over, hoping for answers. \n\nWritten quite neatly on the first line was, of course, \"ayy lmao\".\n\nEDIT: corrected several autocorrect errors." ]	4
I thought it'd be cool as a sort of setup for "are they good or evil?" Does he truly believe that the sacrifice of one is worth the needs of the many? The idea was derivative from watching the movie 'unbreakable'. The concept of an indestructible man on one side of the world while their polar opposite was out there is a brilliant idea. I wanted to play on it with a superhero that's loved and well known but keeps this dark secret.	[WP] The worlds top superhero has the power of true invincibility and is the most loved hero on Earth. His power isn't invincibility however, it's the ability to randomly transfer the damage they've received to another living person at random. The hero is aware of this.	[ "Sherry Bell looked up to him, The Savior. He was the most successful hero the world had ever seen. He had run into and defeated almost all the super villains in the world, along with an uncounted number of nameless thieves and thugs. His two most recent were the Nefarious Doctor Domination, and the unnamed assassins. The only one Sherry knew he had not faced was the one the world was calling the Reaper. \nThe Reaper was the worst villain in her mind; he would come out of nowhere and either kill or injure someone. What was most damning was the coward had never shown his face to the victims, he would come in shoot them with a gun, stab them, cut them, punch them, and even on rare occasions pour acid on them, all with never being seen by cameras, the victims or any possible witness. \nShe reached her hands up to the Savior and pleaded, “Please stop the reaper, and he took my brother’s ability to walk last week. Please stop him from doing this to people.” \nThe savior had a sad knowing smile on his face when she said her brother couldn’t walk, He remembered. It was carelessness that time. He was chasing the assassin, and caught him in the assassins trap for him. He could still feel a dull ache of where the sword had entered his back and broke off when he thought about it. Well he could feel a dull ache for most of his nonfatal injuries. In his memory he felt the sword penetrate his back and slice through his spine. Then it snapped off and his power kicked in. The sword inside him vanished and all the pain was gone. He proceeded to knock out both assassins and took them in; ignoring the slight regret of dooming someone he did not know to being a paraplegic for life. \nTo keep up appearances he nodded to her and got into his personal helicopter, before taking off. He would later make a press conference about looking for the Reaper, but he knew he would never be able to stop the reaper; he had already tried, it had cost him his sister. So instead he saves who he can and tries not to get injured lest they be reaped on someone else.\n", "\"Don't see many priests your age.\" \n\n\"They were all my age, once.\"\n\nThe guard buzzed the door. It slid aside electronically, revealing a long hallway. Pictures of prominent staff and visiting politicians hung in bunched intervals, along with small American flags and larger flags and plaques bearing various corporate logos. The offices had posters and team pictures in them like any other office would. As if this were just one building among others. But the cinder walls and wide floor and high ceiling lent it an overpowering industrial feel.\n\nThe warden's office was at the end. He had been expecting the priest. \n\n\"I don't know how they do things elsewhere,\" he said, already shaking his head. \"but this is highly unusual at Lennox. We have a chaplain, understand.\"\nThe priest smiled, and pointed to a chair in front of the desk. The warden nodded and the priest sat. \"I'm aware that what my request is...abnormal...\"\n\n\"Well it just seems unnecessary. Inmates who want to repent can talk to the chaplain. We'll bring in an imam or a rabbi if they're of a different persuasion, but I don't see the need to host a traveling priest. No disrespect, father.\"\n\n\"I understand, warden\" the priest said. \"but I'm here to engage precisely the inmates who don't confide in their chaplain, who don't repent to the Lord. I want to find the lost lamb and return him to the flock, you see.\"\n\nThe warden considered this for a moment, strumming his fingers on the desk as he did. He wore a simple blue shirt and tie like the corrections officers did; without his blazer and its excess of badges and insignias, he looked like everyone else who worked there. Maybe a little older. \n\n\"You want to crack the tough nuts, huh?\" \n\nThe priest nodded. \"The tougher the better.\"\n\n\"You're not one of them fire-and-brimstone types, are you? I don't need these guys any more pissed off than they already are.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" the priest said. \"Mine is a message of salvation, I promise.\" \n\n**\n\nThey gave him a seat in the mess hall. Two guards were within five feet of him at all times, and he wasn't allowed to touch the inmates. Each inmate had twenty minutes to say their piece, and the whole deal had to be over by dinner. That gave him three hours, or nine inmates. That gave him as good of odds as he could have hoped for. \n\nHe only needed one, after all.\n\nAs he expected, most stuck to their stories: Darius was home sleeping when that man was shot; Thomas was framed because he had beaten up a cop in a barfight; \nAdrian acted in self-defense; Langston swore it was consensual. And so on. After two hours, a guilty man had yet to enter the mess hall.\n\nThat changed with Yuri.\n\nHe was tall enough to hunch when he walked, and so thin that he looked taller than he really was. The sleeves on his jumper were rolled up to reveal naked flesh; what skin the priest could see was unmarked by any needle. This was a first for the priest.\n\nYuri sat before him, knees spread, hands cuffed and chained to his waist. He was maybe forty by his look but the priest wondered if the years here hadn't aged him prematurely. \n\n\"Yuri's an interesting name,\" the priest said. \"It's Russian, right?\"\n\n\"I guess.\" \n\n\"So your parents weren't from Russia?\"\n\nYuri's face darkened. \"I don't fuckin know.\"\n\nThe priest's tone was concillatory. \"I'm awful at smalltalk,\" he said. \"I meant no harm.\"\n\nYuri relaxed, just a little. \"Whatever.\"\n\n\"So,\" the priest began, leaning back on the stool. \"What brought you to Lennox?\"\n\n\"Murder,\" came the reply.\n\n\"Did you admit to your guilt?\" \n\n\"There ain't nothin to admit,\" said Yuri. \"I was still there when they showed up.\"\n\n\"Fair enough. What about admitting your guilt to God?\"\n\nThe faintest smile teased the corner of Yuri's mouth. \"Who's that?\"\n\n\"I think you know who it is.\"\n\n\"No,\" Yuri said. \"I* know who it is. I'm asking if you do.\"\n\nThis surprised the priest. The riposte -- if it wasn't just a clumsy deflection -- was surprisingly adept for a man of Yuri's ilk. He began to wonder if there was more to the convinct than what he was presenting. To find the answer, he would have to avoid indulging him. \"I imagine there are as many answers to that question as there are people on this earth.\"\n\nYuri looked away. \"I didn't think so.\"\n\n\"Is that why you don't speak to the chaplain? You've already been forgiven?\"\n\n\"What's that?\" \n\nThe priest was awash with disappointment. \"I get the feeling that you're just giving me a polite brush-off.\"\n\n\"Maybe I'm just tired of people pushing ideas they don't understand the way dealers push crack,\" Yuri said, seeming bored. \"That shit's dangerous.\"\n\n\"What don't I understand, exactly?\" \n\n\"Ain't enough time to explain, father.\"\n\n\"We have twenty minutes,\" the priest said.\n\n\"Sixteen,\" corrected Yuri. The priest checked the clock on the wall behind Yuri. Then he checked over his own shoulder for one, but no clock was theree. \"How'd you do that?\" he asked, genuinely delighted. \"The Human Wristwatch!\"\n\n\"It's a gift,\" he said, fussing with his hands now. \"Some things just come natural. Time, numbers...higher concepts.\"\n\n\"Higher concepts. Such as God.\"\n\n\"Mm-hmm.\" \n\n\"And you...confessed to Him?\"\n\nYuri sighed. He leaned his chest against the table between them and put the tip of his nose on the surface. The laminated formica offered a dim reflection, and Yuri seemed to be looking into his own eyes. This is how he stayed for a time. Only when he was ready to continue did he look up again.\n\n\"Listen: What you're looking for, it ain't there. You're just shoutin into the fuckin void. Okay? Nobody's home. In fact, there ain't even a home for nobody to be at, so don't bother looking for a door to knock on.\"\n\n\"What's one-fifty divided by seven?\" the priest asked.\n\n\"Twenty-one,\" Yuri said immediately.\n\n\"Is that right?\"\n\n\"No,\" Yuri admitted. \"There's decimals, too.\"\n\n\"Well. I don't even know what to say. I'm amazed.\"\n\n\"If you want me to do tricks, I could use some credit on my commisary card.\"\n\nThe priest held his hands up apologetically. \"Forgive me, Yuri, I'm just stunned by your talent. And moreso that you've wound up here, instead of...I don't know...Harvard or something.\"\n\nYuri snorted at that, donned a sardonic smirk. \"What a waste, huh?\" he said.\n\n\"Not entirely,\" said the priest. \"Not in the next world, perhaps.\"\n\n\"Man, what don't you fuckin get about what I said?\" Yuri was angry now, and gesturing with his hands that were shackled to his waist. \"There ain't a 'next world.' Just like there ain't no such thing as forgiveness, because there's nobody listening. This is it. This is all we got. One life, cradle to grave, then it's over.\"\n\nThe priest sighed. \"You can't know that, Yuri.\" he said, gently. \"You may believe that, but you can't know it to be true.\"\n\nYuri fussed with his hands again. He looked at the floor. \"Like I said, I know things,\" he said quietly. \"I know things about you, too.\"\n\n\"Oh? Like what?\"\n\n\"I know what you're really here for.\"\n\n\"And what's that, Yuri?\"\n\nYuri leapt from his stool with a frightening speed and loomed over the priest like a tower. Before he could react, Yuri clutched the priest's hand in his, hard so he couldn't pull away, and said simply, \"This.\"\n\nThe guards pounced, and had Yuri face down on the floor with a baton against his neck almost as soon as the word hit the priest's ear. The priest tried to process what had just happened, tried to make sense of it, but the search for answers only made him woozy. \"Why?\" he shouted at Yuri as the guards lifted him upright and dragged him out. \"You're one of us! Why, Yuri?\" But the killer only laughed, and his laugh echoed through the hall and penetrated the priest's soul, where it went on even as he left the prison. He took my hand, the priest thought. He took my hand and he knew what it meant!\n\nThe drive home was four hours, but the priest stopped at a motel after just an hour. He vomited in the toiled and took a long shower. Getting dressed, he held his clerical collar in his hands, looking at it as though it were new and wondered if it was possible to come into conflict with God's plan, and if that was ever the cause of any misfortune in this world. He left the motel on foot, the keys in the ignition. When night fell he found a small alley and took it halfway. No one was around. He thought of home. He thought of his bedroom. The air around him began to snap and sizzle. He thought of the thickness of the carpet and the smell of the air freshener. Sparks lit the darkness like a thousand suns being born and dying in an instant. The grain of the oak chest at the end of his bed. The brass lock that held closed a secret no one could ever learn. \n\nThe world went blue, then white, and then he was home.\n\nAnd he wept.\n\nWhen he gathered himself, the priest went to the wooden chest at the foot of his bed and produced the key that unlocks it. He opened it slowly. Within was a black leather jacket, black boots, a thick black sweater and tough denim jeans. He took them each and placed them on the bed. Alone in the footlocker remained a simple black ski mask. Just above the right eye was a hole, the threads frayed and burnt. This was where the bullet had entered. He turned the mask around in his hands. The exit hole was much bigger. \n\nThe priest stood now before the bathroom mirror. He pushed aside a curl of graying hair and saw no scar. Though he had bled that night, though his skull had shattered and fragments had ejected through the hole in his mask, his flesh was unbroken, the bone smooth to the touch. \n\nFredrick David Yandle had died that night, instead of him. A pact signed months before with a handshake at Upton Penitentiary, some thousand miles west of here. Chosen because he admitted guilt and sought salvation. The priest had promised it to him then, and the armed robber Tony Harding had granted it unwittingly on July 8th, two years ago.\n\nThis was the priest's gift. One of many. And the next one would be for Yuri.", "Bullets flattened against his broad chest as he strode confidently through the hail of gunfire shrugging off the rounds like insects. \n\n“It’s him! Keep shooting!” A man shouted while reloading his gun. The sound of gunfire was deafening in the bank. Men and women lay on the ground covering their heads and ears. Silence swept through the bank as the last bullet was fired. A young woman looked up from her hands and saw a man in a black ski mask drop his gun on the marble floor. His shoulders slumped in defeat. A fist collided with his jaw. The bones snapped and shattered underneath the thunderous blow. A right hook followed and then a left. The robber’s body collapsed, his head making a wet smack as it hit the shiny marble floor. Blood began to pool around the lifeless body. Her eyes drifted from the corpse to the man standing over him. The man was nearly a giant. His massive arms were straining the fabric of his brilliant white costume. \n\n“It’s safe now everyone. Please leave calmly and slowly.” His voice boomed across the bank. Men and women quickly stood and walked quickly out of the bank and into the waiting crowd of police and curious onlookers. \n\nMr. Marvelous stood alone in the bank looking at the destroyed bodies of the attempted bank robbers. He ran his fingers over the spots where the bullets had hit him. Not a scratch, not even a faint reminder of pain he knew he should have felt. With a heavy sigh he walked out of the bank into a barrage of camera flashes and applause. \n\nReporters shouted and clamored for his attention. A familiar face in the crowd pressed forward. She was always there after he stopped a crime.\n\n“Mr. Marvelous! Over here! I’m Amber Kent from the New Tribune, I want to do a personal interview with you!” She shouted over the rest of the people. Her blue eyes shone with ambition, her voice heavy with desperation.\n\nHe shut his eyes and focused on silencing the crowd. His feet slowly lifted off the ground as he drifted into the sky. Once he was a safe distance above the crowd he shot off like a missile into the distance. Mr. Marvelous flew high above the city he protected. Nine long years of stopping crimes or deterring crimes with his presence. And still, every single day people were mugged, beaten, or killed. In the beginning he had a code. He would incapacitate criminals and allow the justice system to prosecute them. It didn’t take long to realize that wasn’t working. He became the cities executioner. People cheered for him, people applauded his brutality. He hated them. Mr. Marvelous. His face twisted into a scowl. Mr. Murderer. No one knew the price they paid. He landed heavily cracking the concrete. The street was bathed in darkness. Streetlights haven’t worked in this part of town in years. A filthy man in rags shot him a nervous look and scampered deeper into the darkness. A run down brick apartment building loomed in front of him. The windows had all been boarded up and the front was covered in graffiti. No one had tagged this building in a long time. He got rid of the gang presence early on. Home sweet home he thought to himself as he stepped into the pitch black building.\n\nThe small kerosene lamp flared to life. It cast its light against the walls of the rundown apartment. A woman sat on the couch, legs crossed hands on her lap.\n\n“What are you doing here Amber Kent?” He whispered angrily.\n\n“I’m here for an interview.” She replied.\n\n“Why?” He bellowed, his thunderous voice shaking the room.\n\n“Because people want answers. Where you came from. Why you are the way you are. People have a right to know.” She answered.\n\nHe sat down heavily in a beat up recliner. It strained underneath his bulk. \n\n“You want to know the truth? Fine. I don’t care anymore.” His voice barely a whisper.\n\n“Where are you from?” She asked leaning forward, a tape recorder in her hand.\n\n“Right here. I grew up in this apartment.”\n\n“How did you become.” She paused for a moment “invincible?”\n\n“I’m not.” \n\n“Excuse me?” She asked.\n\n“I’m not invincible.” A tear streaked down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away.\n\n“I don’t understand.” She said quietly.\n\n“In the beginning, when I was cut or stabbed or shot. Someone else somewhere would feel that pain for me. Take that upon themselves unwillingly. And die. Hundreds of people died in my place for years before I was even aware of it happening.” His knuckles were white from gripping the recliner.\n\n“Until one day people stopped dying.”\n\n“What happened?”\n\n“I’ll show you.” He said standing from the chair.\n\nHe guided her down the dark hallway to a small wooden door. His head hung low as he gently opened the door and ducked through. \n\n“Dad?” A small voice asked from the darkness. “Is that you?” The small voice sounding panicked.\n\n“Yes, it’s me. It’s ok.” He said reassuringly. \n\nHe brought the light further into the room. The soft glow illuminating the small boy on the bed. His arms and ankles were in restraints. \n\n“Did you beat the bad guys today?” He asked, voice full of pride.\n\nHe began undoing the restraints with trembling fingers. \"I sure did.” Mr. Marvelous answered. His voice breaking and tears ran down his cheeks unchecked.\n\n“It’s ok dad don’t cry. It’s hard being a hero, I don’t mind. The pain will go away, just like it always does.” \n\n\"I can't do this anymore!\" Mr. Marvelous cried out in anguish.\n\nA small hand reached out and gripped his arm tightly.\n\n\"The world still needs you. You have to be strong for them. I can be strong for you.\" The boy whispered.\n\nAmber Kent saw heavy bruising on the boy’s chest. Hundreds of circular deep purple bruises. The same bruising that would be left if a bullet had hit him. She couldn’t help but stare. The bruises began to change colors from purple to yellow to fading entirely until the boys skin was completely healed. Mr. Marvelous had fallen to his knees and was holding the boy tightly. Amber turned the recorder off and slowly backed out of the room. She ran out of the apartment building. The heartbreaking sobbing wails trailing after her.\n" ]	3
	[WP] A time traveller that travels back in time and accidentally meets his dead wife.	[ "\"Oh no, it seems I've erred again\" \nHe said beneath his breath, \n\"I've run into my dearest friend - \nMy love, before her death.\" \n\n\"Oh what a silly fool,\" he wept \n\"To find the very room \nWhere lay my love, the night she slept \nThe sunny side of doom.\" \n\n\"But now I'm here\" he came to speak, \n\"Where still she sweetly lies; \nLet trickled tears befall my cheek: \nShe lives before my eyes.\" \n\nHis aged hand caressed the glass \nInside the dark machine - \nWhile seas of time already passed \nEnwrapped the submarine.\n \n", "Juliet was her name. Fiery red hair, an alluring smile, and deep dimples. She was what kept me going everyday. Little did I know, that her funeral wouldn't be the last time I saw her.\n\nAfter Juliet's death, I was in and out of prison, a raging alcoholic and a grumpy adult in the then so depressing world. At that time, I disconnected from my family and the little friends I had left; I decided it was time to join the military, an old dream of mine. I thought it could put me back on the path I was travelling on before, a good one. But it did quite the opposite of that, I'm afraid.\n\n\"Private Thompson!\" said the voice of Lieutenant Woods, the man who got me into this mess, \"Good to see you up so early. About time to see what you can do!\"\n\nFor the next six hours of that day, I was performing all sorts of tests that made my body growl with pain and tiredness. It was worth it though, because of my resilience and show of respect that wasn't in a kiss up fashion, Lieutenant Woods saw me as more than a recruit, as a friend. My first friend in over a year.\n\nLieutenant Woods passed up my acts of good work and soon enough I was being deployed to the lush forests in Asia. I wasn't alone, Woods accompanied me as my boss, and I made some other friends from my unit: Aries, Eddy, and Lola.\n\nMy time in the war was sad, all my friends except for Woods died. Aries was tortured to death while he was a POW, Lola was torn to shred by biological weapons, and Eddy, Eddy lost his legs and his arms to a landmine. I did manage to liberate an orphanage after some of my team died; I honestly didn't care if I died that night. The important thing was that I was recognized by my superiors for having zero care about my own life.\n\nShortly after my act of heroism spread around, my superiors wanted a word with me. \n\n\"Thompson! At ease. I have received word of your heroic action, and I assure you, it will be well rewarded. I'm going to cut the bullshit and offer you an opportunity to end the war.\" \n\n\"What is it, General Musk?\"\n\n\"Two words: Time Travel. We are going to dive straight into this, and we want you as a subject. If you survive, you get paid two million dollars, and a chance to discharge honorably from the military if you want to rest. If you agree, we start in two days time.\" General Musk spoke with a convincing tone of voice, very smooth and comforting, \"You will go back ten years and assassinate the leader of the Federated East Asian States. Go in, and go out, simple as that.\"\n\n\"Deal.\"\n\nTime Travel felt like getting brain freeze while being squeezed by your aunt on your birthday. Except, your aunt was the strongest woman, no, the strongest thing, in the world.\n\nI woke up on the ground of New Beijing, DRC. I knew this place, it's where Juliet and I lived for some time, that and this would be where the Federated East Asian States would be formed. \n\nI got up looking dazed and walked over to the park where Juliet and I would picnic. I could already tell it was a bad idea; I was here on a job, not to remember my dead wife.\n\n\"Hello! The Prime Minister of India and Japan are visiting today, would you like to see them?\" called out a voice behind me, \"It's free, as always!\"\n\n\"No Ma'am.\" the voice that came out wasn't my own, it was as if the response came unnaturally, \"I have to meet someone else.\"\n\n\"Someone more important than the brothers of Africa? Must be one lucky girl.\" \n\n\"She sure is.\"\n\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are about to commit suicide, when a voice behind you asks you something really mundain.	[ "The barrel of the gun had grown warm over the last 30 minutes as I fumbled with it, trying to decide if this would be my final action on this earth. My eyes were glazed in tears and yet my mouth was bone dry as I murmured the word coward under my breath. My heart rate increased, my eyes closed hard and I raised the pistol to my head. A flash of images ran through my mind, a million thoughts exploding every tense millisecond as my finger began to tighten. The hammer began to rise, the tension built inside me as my stomach twisted into knots. “This is it, this is—“\n\n“What is your favorite rose?”\n\nThe voice snapped me into reality and a spun on my heals to catch a glimpse of the person speaking, but as I turned there was no one there. I was alone. I lived alone, and knew all the doors and windows were shut and locked… all part of my plans that were set in motion. The question caught me further off guard, like a painful memory I had pushed down into my subconscious, only now being dredged to the surface. My eyes darted around the room, frantically trying to make sense of the situation. \n\n“What is your favorite rose!?”\n\nThe sound came from behind me again, like a phantom hissing it’s odd riddle from my own shadow. The voice more distinct and sinister hung in the air, lingering far after the audible portion was gone. I raised the gun, pointing it in all directions. “I am a-armed, who’s there? Show y-yourself!” I choked out, tripping over my own words.\n\n“WHAT”\t\n\t\t\nI turned as fast as I could. Nothing…\n\n“IS”\n\nThe voice snapped like a gun shot, I span round again to find nothing.\n\n“YOUR FAVORITE”\n\nNothing again, the voice grew louder like twisted avalanche barreling towards me.\n\n“Rose?”\n\nA whispered word collapsed against my face as I turned into the skeletal visage of a monstrous creature floating not but an inch away from me. It’s breath like winters wind on my cheeks. Tattered hooded robe floating around the creature, as if animated from a wind that wasn’t seen or felt. I stared into the lipless, toothy maw as it opened. It’s words freezing the air around me.\n\n“Answer me boy. Rose. Which is your favorite?” The apparition exhaled in a deep timber, shaking the walls and floorboards. \n\n“R-r-red ones?” I stammered out, both confused and frightened.\n\n“GOOD. I shall leave them on your tomb upon your demise. But… that isn’t THIS day!” The ghostly phantom uttered with a maddening cackle. And with that, it was gone…\n\nFrozen in fear I stood, mouth slack and eyes staring into the middle distance in disbelief. I dropped to my knees and began to cry. Attempting to wipe the tears from my face, I realized I was still holding the gun and my hand had gone numb clenching the firearm so tightly. I dropped to the floor and backed away from it like a poisonous snake. Backing myself into the corner, I wrapped my arms around my knees as the emotional damn burst and my eyes flooded. The cry was cathartic. I hadn’t let loose like that since I was a child.\n\nRubbing a sore spot in my neck, I opened my eyes to a darker version of my apartment. Obviously I had been a sleep for multiple hours. I sat up, back against the wall and surveyed my lodgings for any sign of my visitor. Everything was just as I had left it, including the pistol haphazardly strewn on the floor. Finally willing myself to stand, I stretched out the aches of sleeping on the hardwood and walked into the kitchen, coming to a wide-eyed standstill as my usually barren refrigerator doors now hung one piece of artwork.\n\nA child’s drawing of a red rose in crayon with the tagline:\n“Not today.”", "The train was running late. Usually I wouldn't mind so much, but today I was impatient. I was ready to get this life over with. The only thing keeping me sane was knowing that when this train arrived, I would depart from the pain. I guess I can take solace in the fact that this is the one failure that couldn't be blamed on me. The train conductor would have to take the fall for this one.\n\nI checked my watch. 5 minutes late. Maybe I should just climb down onto the tracks and wait there for the relief. If I laid down across them, maybe the operator won't see me in time. I could get off these tired legs and stretch out. Seems simple enough, won't even have to work that hard for it. Story of my life.\n\nI looked left and right on the platform. Not a soul in sight. No one to stop me. This was my chance to go unseen into that great unknown. To remove myself from this great equation. To cease to burden. \n\nI hunched down to drop off the platform. So silly to think of at a time like these, but you gotta protect your knees from the shock. Not like it mattered, but it's what they taught you in the 101st Airborne. \n\n\"Excuse me, are you waiting for the 4:05?\".\n\nI stumbled back a bit and fell on my ass. The voice came out of nowhere. No footsteps preceded it. No shuffle of shoes or clothing. I would have known. I was trained to know.\n\n\"Oh my, I didn't mean to startle you. Here, let me help you.\".\n\nAn outstretched hand appeared before me. I didn't take it. I'm not one to accept help, especially from strangers. I planted my palms and struggled to my feet, brushing the seat of my pants like it even mattered.\n\n\"Where'd you come from?\", I asked, probably more accusatory than I intended.\n\nThe man was probably late 60's, the size of a gumball machine and dressed like a newspaper boy. Extra extra, read all about it, the amazing appearing nut job.\n\n\"Me? I've always been here. I like to watch them come and go.\"\n\n\"The trains?\"\n\n\"No. The people.\", he said, his eyes wandering with a slight smile as if to reminisce.\n\nThe platform was still empty, save me and this old-timer. A ghost town with two residents who haven't made the plunge just yet. I was planning on crossing that line before this guy showed up. Where was this train anyway?\n\n\"The 4:05 is running late.\", he said staring towards the arrival board. \"Looks like you couldn't wait.\".\n\nI eyed him for a long moment. Why'd he look so smug?\n\n\"I dropped a twenty on the tracks. Thought I'd have time to get it.\", I lied. \n\nThe old man peered over the edge of the platform and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. \n\n\"That's a shame, son. Seems like your money up and vanished. Stuff goes missing around here all the time. Change, keys, hope...\", he trailed off staring at the tracks.\n\nThe platform rumbled with the telltale sign of an approaching coach.\n\n\"Maybe if you look hard enough, you might find what you've been looking for.\", he said over his shoulder.\n\nThe train rode into the station fast and loud, the wheels screeching on the track as it lost momentum. Wind blew around me like a fall gust and the train car lights made me squint. The 4:05 came to a complete stop and the doors jolted open all down the line.\n\nThe man was gone. No sign of him. He left as sudden as he had come.\n\nI glanced at my watch. 4:12. I guess I'll just have to wait for the next one.\n", "I scan the label of the sleeping pills for the ninth time, my eyes flicking over the words but the meaning not really registering. I already know its contents: 120 milligrams of Daltnea. It would be quick. It would be easy. I would finally be free from pain. The voices would leave me. I would not exist.\n\nFor a long time I had put off suicide. Coward, the voices called me. What is there to be afraid of? I had clung to the visceral fear of death, that animal instinct for self-preservation, for months. It had been a weapon against the voices. \n\nBut time and weariness had dulled and rusted that once iridescent blade. No matter what I did, no matter the good times that happened, the voices came back. They are a crossbreed between hyenas, flies, and tar; laughing, buzzing around me in thick, impenetrable clouds that blacken memories. \n\nI look up from the bottle of pills, taking in the forest around me one more time. The wind rustles through the yellowed and browned leaves, blowing several off their branches and dancing with them as they make their way to the ground. When I fall, there will be plenty of leaves to bury me. The woods have been my place of escape for years. This place, far from any trails and regular human travel, will be my bed and coffin. I will give the animals of the forest a meal over the winter. \n\nI stare at the bottle of sleeping pills again. Just do it, they urge. You’re a worthless shitbag who takes up the time and energy of others. Do you know how fucking glad they will be without you to drain them? I place my hand on top of the cap.\n\n“Oh, good! I found someone! Can you help me find the trail? I’m lost.”\n\nI turn around. A middle-aged woman wearing a sweatshirt with binoculars and a camera on straps around her neck treks through the leaves. \n\n“I saw a leucistic red tailed hawk flying from tree to tree and I followed it,” she continues. She taps her camera, saying, “I was trying to get a picture of it. Sometime along the way I lost the trail, so here I am. Do you know your way around? Can you show me the way back?”\n\nI shove the pills in my pocket. “Sure. This way.” I start to walk in the direction of the nearest trail and she walks alongside of me. “You a bird watcher?” I ask.\n\n“Sure am. Now that my son’s in college I go on trips across the country. I came here to see the fall colors, but when I heard about the white hawk living ‘round here I had to check it out. Have you seen it before?”\n\n“Yeah. Pretty bird. Have you seen others?”\n\nShe nods and gives a small smile. “My husband always liked birds, especially raptors. He volunteered at a nature center where they had a leucistic red tailed hawk. He really liked that bird. Now they always remind me of him.”\n\nI note that she uses past tense when referring to her husband, but it is not my place to pry. Instead, I make an affirmative noise.\n\nI must have displayed some signal of interest, for she went deeper into her story. “He died a car crash. Right when our son was graduating from high school he was driving home from his work and a semi truck flipped over on him on a turn. It was hard. Evan had a really close bond with his father, and it really sunk him down to not have his support in the graduation.”\n\n“I’m sorry,” I say. I hate those words in these kinds of situations. They are near useless and are only a social gesture that often doesn’t mean anything.\n\n“Thank you,” she says nevertheless. “It was hard,” she repeats. “I was not sure how to function without him. But Evan needed me. I still had family. I had a job that I enjoyed, and still enjoy for that matter. As long as you’re living, good things happen if you reach for them. I chose to reach for those good things. Are there times when I am sad? Yes. But that is never all that is in life.”\n\nI look at her, fingering the bulge of the pill bottle in my pocket. We’ve been on the trail for a while now, heading back in the direction of the parking lot. She stops every so often, looking through her binoculars at birds. Once I express interest, she lets me look, too, pointing out songbirds and even a resting owl out to me. \n\nWe reach the parking lot. “Thanks,” she says. “Not sure what you were doing there in the forest, but I thank God that he put you there. I had no idea where I was! Do you have a car here? Do you need a ride home?”\n\n“I don’t need a ride, thank you. But could you do something else for me?”\n\nShe cocks her head. “Sure.”\n\nI take the bottle of pills out of my pocket. “Can you take these and dispose of them?”\n\nShe takes the bottle from my hand. “Of course. I would be glad to. Thank you for trusting me.”\n\n“Thank you for your story.”\n\nShe nods. “Are you sure you don’t want a ride?”\n\n“The walk will clear my head, now that I have new things to think about. Thanks, though.”\n\n“Good luck.” I watch as she starts her car and calls someone. She drives away, waving.\n\nI turn on my cellphone. I have a few new notifications coming through my feed. I open my text messages. One is my sister asking me to lunch. Yes, I reply. Coming. \n\nGood. See you soon, she texts back. \n\nI put my phone in my pocket and leave the woods, feeling 120 kilograms lighter.\n", "The rope coiled warmly around Hannah Ridley's neck; thirty two years old, no children, no friends, a sister she hadn't spoken to in two years, a dead dog, a living goldfish, some tatty furniture and a rug she rather liked. In the corner behind her, above a grubby phone, a single, small window was covered by a felt curtain. It smothered the outside world in favour of the comforting shade which idly cradled the room. \n\nHer foot knocked something from the table on to her favourite rug. It could have been an empty carton of cigarettes, an unopened letter, or last night's (or perhaps last week's) Minute Wonders Macaroni Cheese. Her tongue parted her salty lips as she managed a rueful smile. Even now, it bothered her slightly that she might have stained it. She fought against the rope to look down, past her nose and upper lip. The twine pressed into her larynx, and gave her a reassuring choking sensation. Her tangled hair was tugged by the rope as she pulled on the knot to tighten it further. \n\nBeneath the window, the phone began to ring. Each jangle of the bell reverberated along her nerves, and nicked open sutures that weakly held back memories like seeping wounds. Paula's voice had been quiet on the phone. \n\n...You should have come back. She wanted to see you. They both did. \n\nIt had not been lethargy, but fear that deterred her. She thought she wanted to remember her mother living, not dying. Paula had refused to speak to her since then, and Hannah made no attempt to reopen contact. \n\nShe grew increasingly tense as the phone continued it's clamour. She closed her eyes, and focused on the abrasive embrace of the noose. She bent her knees, taking even more weight on her neck. The ringing shrank back as her ears rushed with blood, quieter, quieter, and then - gone. A crackling speaker replaced it: \n\nSorry, but - \"Hannah\" - can't answer right now. Please leave a message after the tone: beep. \n\"...Hello?\" Said a hushed voice. It was the first she had heard in weeks. \"Are you there, Han?\" It was Paula. Hannah inhaled wheezily, and straightened her legs. \n\"I was hoping we might get a coffee tomorrow?\" Said Paula. A rush of grief exhausted Hannah's body. She drew another raling breath, and moaned as she exhaled. She wiped away a tear, and made her choice. \n", "\"So what're you gonna do? A 1080 double lariat or some shit? You gonna try and fly?\"\n\nThe hair jumps on the back of my neck and I hunch over as if I was caught stealing a cookie.I turn my head to see a balding, middle aged man in a loosened tie lighting a cigarette. He resembled the same kind of typical upper management, alcoholic scumbag that fucked up everything in the first place for me and my heart filled with rage. \n\n\"Its Game 7 of the playoffs and you're staring at a street instead.\"\n\n\"Look at me, why do you think I give a shit?\" \nI tremble screaming at the man like he was the physical embodiment of my life.\n\n\"Cus' some of us wanna watch the game and instead they are gonna be scraping your goo off the street. Kinda ruins the night don't you think?\" \n\nHe takes his first inhale then nonchalantly breaks his gaze from me to look out at the water to the east as if witnessing the end of my life wasn't entertaining enough.\n\nI sniffle looking back at my objective of the ground below.\n\n\"I don't give a shit, nobody gives a fuck about me.\" I choke back sobbing in front of the stranger.\n\nThis isn't at all what I pictured in my head. I can't even end my life they way I want without somebody shitting on me. \n\n\"And what? Thats gonna make everything all better once your gone? Everyone'll still think you're a pussy.\"\n\n\"Seriously man. Fuck off.\"\n\n\"The thing that's weird about you young people is that you can switch gears like that.\" He snaps his fingers. \"When you're like me you're stuck doing the same shit everyday. Talking to the same kinds of people.\" \n\nHe nods his head in a bragging sort of way.\n\n\"I'm good at it, don't get me wrong but it gets fuckin' old after all these fuckin' years.\"\n\nHis local accent was borderline stereotypical. He was everything I resented, probably had a wife, a job, everything secured and taken care of and now he's telling me HIS life story and having things is hard. But it was somebody to talk to, he gave me more time of day then anyone, and even if I think I hated him I still kept the conversation going. \n\n\"You don't know a thing about me man..\" I whimper, defeated in every aspect. \n\n\"I know if you lean forward a bit more whatever you're pissed off about..\"\n\nHe inhales and and sighs aloofly.\n\n\"It 'Aint gonna change, and it'll be there forevah. That's something you can do but I can't\" \n\nI stand a little firmer, my broken psyche trying to get off the ledge but my pride keeping me there. \n\n\"Arn't you supposed to be helping me? Instead you're just convincing me that you should jump with me.\"\n\n\"Oh, Fuck you.\" He smokes. \"I'm just saying what scares the shit outta me is something you want. Its all fuckin' relative you know. Trust me I know what I'm talkin' about.\" \n\n\"Bullshit.\" I accuse him. \"I Have nowhere to go now.\"\n\n\"You've got fucking everywhere to go now. Fuck you.\" He becomes agitated and I chuckle a bit morbidly which doesn't help.\n\n\"Oh you want to laugh at me? Tryin' to help you? Okay, asshole, jump! Do a flip!\" \n\n\"Why do you fucking care what I do?\" \n\n\"Why do you think?\" He questioned back looking straight at me. He shook a bit, his eyes not watering but glossing over as much a grizzled Boston man would. \n\nIn his eyes I saw pain, the same kind that I felt in my heart. I couldn't resonate or relate with anybody but in this look I saw a sense of sincerity none of his words could come close to portraying. I connected to this man, and even if I didn't agree with what he was saying, he earned my respect enough to listen.\n\nI take a deep breath and hear horns honking below me. I shiver once again.\n\nI step down from the ledge shaking my head walking towards him slowly. He still seems agitated but raises his eyebrows quickly as a congratulations for deciding to live. He brings the cigarette to his mouth to finish it off. \n\n\"Its just so damn cold up here. I thought it was supposed to be summer by now.\"\n\n\"Yeah, shits weird.\" He reminds me as he gets closer.\n\nHe tosses his Marlboro stub off the edge. And I imagine it gliding gently towards the ground. I could talk with the guy a bit longer at least. He examines me saying nothing but making sure I have my security at least. I want to thank him.\n\n\"Look-\" I start but am cut off to a hand in my face.\n\nHe cuts me off excitedly turns to me as he braces. \n\n\"Now check this shit!\"\n\nHe shoves me down to the pavement of the roof and sprints towards then edge. I reach for him and his shirt slips through my hands. His head held high and his loosened tie coming undone and falling to the ground in front of me as he elevates himself up and over before falling out of sight behind the ledge.\n\n\"Go Bruins!\" I hear his accented battle cry echo into the city sky. It rings in my ears as I trample the tie getting up and sprinting to the ledge out of desperation. My hips slamming me to a stop against the stone railing as I look out over it. \n\nI see nothing. Just the same traffic ridden streets I saw before. \n\nMy mind races. People don't fall that fast do they? Jesus Christ. Fuck. I stammer on out loud thinking of any super power I could develop to change the situation.\n\nI reach into my pocket and pull out my phone wanting to call the police and as I do so, I look back at the concrete. The tie that I stepped on was gone. \n\nI look under my shoe and around the rest of the roof. \n\nI rub the back of my neck in anxiety. I suck the cold air as my thoughts jam inside my brain finding no answer for the storm of confusion. \n\nA ding is heard towards the middle of the roof and the doors to the elevator open. I've never seen any woman beckon to me harder than those doors did. \n\nI stomp over to the door and my thoughts link in slow motion. A fire burns inside of me and a new philosophy about things spontaneously arises.\n\nI take a quick glance back at the ledge somewhat mystified but now with growing understanding and the doors close removing it from my existence. No one will ever hear about this. No one will know me at my weakest point except for him. \n\nAs the elevator closes I shout out in a mocking accent to the empty roof. \n\n\"Yah didn't even do ah flip!\"\n\n(Quick idea: need to proofread this later)", "\"What had I been doing with myself these past few years?\" This was the question that raddled around in my brain during the past few months. I had allowed myself to live in a form of auto pilot. The amount of inner passivity that I had lived with was atrocious. \"I wish there was a reset button on my life, a way to go back and fix this.\" \n\nDue to my lack of caring, I was stuck in the same dead end job going no where fast. I had a loving wife, but the passion just wasn't there anymore. My children still giggled with the love of life that I wish that I had. What was I doing?\n\nI had decided that today was the day. There may not be a reset button in life, but I can pull the plug on the game. I couldn't take wallowing in that defeat any longer. It was time to just give up, because everyone would be better off without me anyways. \"All I am doing is taking up air.\" I told myself again and again. \"I may as well give my share of the oxygen to someone being more productive than myself.\"\n\nI climbed up some flights of stairs in an old apartment building, and found an unlocked, vacant room. Dust clouds were kicked up as I walked through the main room. I made my way to the window at the far end. As I reached the window, I fiddled with the latch, really contemplating what I was about to do. \"I am about 15 flights up... and the street looks really busy too, so even if the fall doesn't kill me, maybe a truck or a bus would.\" I couldn't believe I just said that out loud. Fear was screaming at me to not do this, but it was the same fear that told me not to ask for a promotion at work. It was the same fear that told me not to get intimate with others, because they will all hurt you in the end anyways. I opened the window, and was preparing for the leap of my life.\n\n\"Excuse me man, you got the time?\"\n\nI twirled around, and found a hulking man in the doorway of the vacant apartment. \"I-I'm sorry, what?\"\n\n\"The time man, do you know what time it is?\"\n\n\"O-oh, right, time. Uh, just a second.\" I pulled out my phone with a shaky hand. \"Um... it is 2:45.\"\n\n\"Man, I haven't seen anyone shake as bad as you since I visited my grandmother in the retirement home. You a'right man?\" There was a brief pause, then he said the phrase that scared me the most, because I had been discovered. \"Don't tell me that it is jump'n time for you man.\"\n\nWhat kind of a person says that? \"Yeah, that was my plan. I'm just wasting space anyways. I am a failure, and figured that I may as well just end it, you know?\"\n\n\"Maaann... I do know, I was in your shoes at one time man. I kept lying to myself saying that I was worthless, but I realized something m-\"\n\nHe stopped suddenly in mid-sentence. \"Are, are you alright?\"\n\nThe maintenance man, who had appeared with no warning, toppled to the ground, and began to shake uncontrollably. \"Crap, you gotta be kidding me.\" I dialed 911. I had to hear the last of what he was going to say. I couldn't die yet, I had to know. \"Yeah, I am up on the 15th floor of the apartment building at the intersection of 1st and Washington. Room number 1506, there is a man having a seizure up here. Send help.\"\n\nThe seizure subsided before the para-medics arrived, but he was still unconscious. My thoughts were focused on only one thing now, what was he going to say? The para-medics told me what hospital they were going to take him, and I watched as they drove away, siren's blaring. \n\nI traveled to the hospital the following day. I asked around until I found his room. \"I'm looking for someone, large man transported here yesterday by ambulance. He was on the 15th floor of an apartment building. I called 911 about it around 2:45 yesterday.\" I repeated this story over and over until I found someone who knew what I was talking about. They led me to his room and I slowly went in, heart pounding. \"Hey maintenance man, how you feeling?\" \n\n\"Maaaaan, it's the jumper. What are you doing here? I thought you had a date with some pavement.\"\n\nThe way he said that stung a little. \"You were in mid sentence, saying that you were in my shoes at one time... I had to know what you were going to say.\"\n\nHe chuckled a little bit, and then said something almost philosophical. \"You already know man.\"\n\n\"What? Don't do this to me now, I have been worried about you for the past 24 hours, and I spent the last 2 hours just looking for you in this hospital. I can't take riddles anymore, just tell me. Please, just tell me.\" Tears started to well up in my eyes, I couldn't remember the last time I was this emotional.\n\nHe sighed a little, gave another small chuckle, and then changed my world. \"You have to find something bigger than yourself, and chase it with all your heart man. You chasing me around kept you alive for 24 more hours. You are even getting emotional about it. You are feeling more alive than ever now, right man? Now find something bigger than me, and chase after it relentlessly. That is my secret man.\" ", "The water was dark and a long distance below me. Lights lit the bridge above and to my back. A strong breeze blew through the warm night carrying scents of the bay.\n\nAny other time it would have been a beautiful scene. A moment to feel the touch of the world upon you and bask in the glory of existence. Yet here I stood, halfway up the guard railing, my weight leaned forward, my arms stretched wide, and only my feet wedged between two bars standing between me and the laws of physics taking care of it all. The tears had dried hard on my face and their absence seemed to weaken my earlier resolve.\n\nAs I tried to regain my determination and will my feet to release the hold a voice suddenly spoke up close behind me, \"Are you a Christian child?\"\n\nI was startled, and due to it was almost granted my wish. Yet, some innate base survival instinct kicked in and my balance reasserted itself. I had been raised with religion but had never been particularly religious myself. My mind began to form a response to the question, but I quickly quashed the notion. I did not have it in me to engage in conversation at that point and thought that by ignoring the odd, seemingly random, question the person who asked it would take it as a cue to go away.\n\nHe, apparently, had no such intention. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my mystery guest come to stand next to me a few feet down the railing. From the black collar and white choker thingy (I have never bothered to learn what the actual term for these are) it was clear he was a priest. We both stood there as if we were simply enjoying the view. \n\n\"You know it's a sin?\" He said after a few minutes, a question which I also declined to answer. \"You'd spend eternity burning for it.\"\n\nThis had not figured into my calculations, it still didn’t. Before I could stop myself, though, I found that I was voicing, \"I don't care.\" Another period of silence followed my declaration. My mind went back to my woes and worries, my reasons, as I tried to rebuild my determination and reassure myself of the certainty that seeking an end was the right course of action. I found that I was speaking my mind aloud to the priest, who said nothing, choosing to allow my tirade to flow. Somewhere during it, growing weary of the bar pressing against my legs, I shifted to sit atop the railing. My perch was precarious, a fact that, given my desires, was of no matter to me.\n\nStrangely, putting my cares into words and presenting them to an audience somehow took away the power they had held echoing through my head. I felt that they were no longer insurmountable. Perhaps everything, excepting the act which I had been preparing myself for, was fixable? \n\nI wondered then if this had been the Padre's game all along. Perhaps he meant simply to lend an ear to listen. The bridge was well known as a place for people who sought escape. Maybe he thought it his service, his duty, to help break their resolve to do what, based on his earlier statement, he saw as folly. \n\nSilence had followed in the wake of my speech. My benefactor broke it, stating \"I see.\" \n\nHe left the railing and came to stand in front of me. \"Still it would be a shame if you burned...\"\n\nHis words caught me off my guard and left me confused. I did not have long to contemplate them, however. He shoved me and gravity let my body know that it had some falling to do.\n\n\"This way it's not suicide, you were murdered,\" I heard him say as I fell. \n\nA long distance below I hit the water hard.\n", "They say falling into water from this high is the same as falling onto concrete. I've seen countless gore videos online of people meeting their end in some body of water or another. Most of them were tragic accidents. A few were suicides. \n\nI stood precariously perched on the wrong side of the railing, the bridge just barely beneath me. The ends of my shoes were a silhouette over the river rushing below. The wind threatened every second to do my wetwork for me and sweep me off the edge. I couldn't even feel the cold. I couldn't feel anything, really. I just wanted to die. \n\nThe wind must have masked the sound of the man's footsteps as he was walking by, but his voice pierced the white noise, clear as a bell: \"Do you know what day it is?\"\n\nAlmost subconsciously, I reached into my pocket for my phone. The surrounding darkness had severely dilated my pupils, causing the harsh light of the LCD screen to assault my vision. My eyes welled up with protective moisture, and as I brushed away the unwanted tears with my free hand, the wind suddenly swelled without warning and I began to teeter haphazardly forward. When I clutched fiercely at the railing, my phone tumbled into the night, the light from the screen painting vague pictures on the darkness below. I couldn't hear the splash when it hit the river, but I saw the display go dark. \n\n\"Fuck!\" I don't know why I was so upset. I was about to die, after all. \"Sorry man, I dropped my phone,\" I said lamely. \n\nBut I was speaking to no one. The man had either left already without bothering to hear my answer, or he was never there in the first place. \n\n\"The fuck...?\" I mused quietly into the night. \"Who's there?\" \n\nI became suddenly and irrationally aggravated. Who the hell would pull some stupid prank on a dead man walking? No concern for my safety? Not even a shred of morbid curiosity for a fellow human being at the brink of death? \n\nI scanned the bridge, intently searching for the person who, against all odds, ruined a suicidal man's night. For some reason, a desire burned inside me to find out why he would ask me that, especially there and then, with my intentions clear as day in the frigid, fleeting blackness. \n\nSeeing no one, I glanced over my shoulder at the river below. \n\n\"It's the twenty-first of September, 2015.\"\n\nMy heart lept into my throat and I momentarily lost my grip on the railing. My head automatically snapped toward the sound of the man's voice, still familiar to my ears after such a short hiatus. But he wasn't on the bridge, where I expected to find him. He was casually sitting on the railing, right-fucking-next to me. \n\n\"Jesus, what is your problem?!\" My voice broke on the final word of my question, becoming lost in the wind. \"First my phone, now you want me to fall?\" I have to admit it was a stupid question. I had been about to jump when he showed up. But he might not know that, as oblivious as he seemed to be. \n\n\"Why do you care?\" He sounded so casual and composed for just having come so close to literally scaring me to death. \"You were about to jump.\"\n\nI could do nothing but stare blankly, dumbfounded. He really didn't give a shit whether I lived or died. \n\n\"You son of a bitch,\" I mumbled, incredulous. \"I came here to die, and you came here to...\" I stuttered momentarily to find the words: \"What... fuck with me?\"\n\nHe chuckled sadly, and some of my irritation with this random stranger ebbed away at the sound of it. He couldn't have been more than 40, but in his laughter I heard thousands of years, sorrow and pain. I continued to stare at his face. His smile was barely distinguishable in the inky blackness, but I could somehow tell it didn't reach past his lips. \n\n\"On September 21st, 1995, my wife Eileen jumped off this bridge. I've come here at this time, on this day, every year since.\"\n\n\"Oh...\" I sheepishly sighed. \"I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"Forget it.\" He waved his hand dismissively. \"Why are you here?\"\n\nI sighed and slumped against the railing, remembering my shitty life in an instant. Damn him. \n\n\"The usual bullshit, I guess. Lost my job, my house, girlfriend, yada yada... But mostly, because I know it's all my fault. I'm a drunk.\"\n\nIt was true. My alcoholism destroyed my life in a measly six months. I don't even remember how it all started. Maybe an argument with Jennifer, maybe a bad day at the office. All I know is, I went to the master therapist Jack Daniels and spiraled out of control. I lost everything. More like threw it all away. I lived in my car, panhandling for food. My family lived out of state and my shame prevented me from reaching out. Jennifer cleaned up one too many puddles of my puke and left about six weeks ago to live with her mom back home. \n\n\"Ah... The old bottomless shot-glass, huh?\" He didn't even sound surprised. \n\n\"I guess.\" \n\nUncomfortable silence followed. Suddenly, I didn't want him to leave. \n\n\"Tell me about your wife.\"\n\n", "\"You got a match?\"\n\nSam looked back. Sprouting a balding head out the window, a short, stocky man with a cigarette dangling from \nthe tip of his lips was smiling at him.\n\n\"What!?\" Sam asked, confused. He looked from the man to the drop below his feet.\n\n\"My lighter's out of fluid,\" the man said, matter-of-factly. \"You got a match?\"\n\n\"No. No. I'm… don't try to stop me!\"\n\nThe man laughed. He pulled his body further out the window, throwing both his legs across, and sat on the frame. \n\"I'm not going to.\"\n\n\"Why are you here, then?\"\n\n\"Fresh air,\" the man said. He pulled his cigarette from his lips and gave it a sad glance. \"Apparently.\"\n\nSam looked down again. Half his Chuck Taylor All Stars were over the narrow border, and he was struggling to \nkeep his balance. He closed his eyes and tried to focus.\n\nA few seconds went by.\n\n\"Well… I can't do it now!\" Sam said, opening his eyes and turning to the man. \"I can't with you watching.\"\n\n\"It's not like peeing in public, son,\" the man said. \"Just do it.\"\n\n\"Don't… don't you wanna tell me that life's worth living? That things are going to get better?\"\n\n\"Hell no! Why would I say that? I don't know if things will get better. And I don't think life's worth living at all!\"\n\n\"You don't?\"\n\n\"No!\" The man laughed to himself. \"What's so great about life? The only reason we like living is because it's all \nwe've ever known. We can't imagine not living, so we love life out of a lack of options. Optimist is basically Stockholm Syndrome, if you ask me.\"\n\nSam kept his eyes frozen on the man. He was expecting a helping hand, a speech on the beauty of life, a hug… \nanything. But not this. \"Well….\" He tried. \"What about… enjoying life? Living the moment? Earthly pleasures and all that.\"\n\n\"What's the point? The only reason we do fun things is so we'll remember them later. The moment itself doesn't \nexist at all, because it's always passing.\"\n\n\"Well… so what? Making memories is not a bad reason to live.\"\n\n\"Yeah, except you lose all those memories when you die, so why bother? It's like collecting stamps in a burning \nbuilding.\"\n\nA sudden harsh wind beat against them, and Greg had to grasp on tight to the rails behind him not to fall.\n\n\"What about love?\" Sam tried.\n\n\"Chemical reaction in your brain. The result of millions of years of evolution. Animals that didn't feel this way about \nother animals didn’t fuck and died along the way.\"\n\n\"Friendship?\"\n\n\"Again, evolutionary residue. We survived more often when in packs.\"\n\n\"Knowledge! The search for meaning!\"\n\n\"All distractions. All different ways to tingle your brain and distract yourself from the fact that you're gonna die. \nEven if you do find the meaning of life, well… you'll forget it when you die.\"\n\nSam was shaking. The man pulled a lighter from his pocket and tried, with no success, to get his cigarette lit. \n\"Damn… no use.\" He threw the lighter carelessly, watching it fall down the twelve stories drop. \"Well, kid? Come on!\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFrom the base, the team was listening in silence, exchanging confused looks. What was Doctor X doing?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSam took three deep breaths, then looked up at the bald man. \"I think you're wrong,\" he said. \"I think life's worth \nliving. You're just… old and cranky. I wanna live.\"\n\nThe bald man shrugged. \"Suit yourself. Life will keep on sucking with or without you.\"\n\nHe flicked his unlit cigarette, turned back and jumped into the apartment again. Sam scooched over to the edge \nand peeked through the window. The man was crossing the front door. He turned back: \"Sure you don't wanna do \nit, kid? I think it's the right way to go.\"\n\n\"No,\" Sam replied, now more confident. \"You know nothing, old man! Life's great, and I'm gonna live it to the \nfullest! You'll see!\"\n\nBefore he closed the door, the bald man watched to make sure Sam would climb back in. And Sam did.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"God damn it, he did it again!\" The team leader exclaimed, from the control room. Everyone was cheering and \nclapping and hugging. He leaned over the microphone and pressed the speak button. \"Doctor Xanax, are you \nthere?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Doctor Xanax replied. \"I'm here.\"\n\n\"You are a master, Doctor! How did you do it? We thought you had changed teams there for a minute!\"\n\n\"Reverse psychology,\" Doctor X replied. \"The kid was sixteen. He'd never do what a bald old man says is right. \nThe second I convinced him that I thought suicide was cool, it immediately became uncool to him.\"\n\nThe team leader shook his head to himself, impressed. \"You're a genius, Dr. Xanax.\"\n\n\"Thank you, boss.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nDr. Xanax turned off the walkie talkie just as the elevator doors opened. He nodded politely to the doorman, \nstepped through the double doors and stopped under the sun.\n\nAnother kid saved from suicide. Another kid who would be making an appointment with a doctor to deal with his \ndepression, instead of giving up. And another prescription wrote. Another couple hundred dollars for his bosses at \nBig Pharma.\n\nDr. Xanax smiled. It felt good, to do the right thing for all the wrong reasons.\n\n\n\n", ",\"Know where I can get a decent steak around here?\"\n\n\"W - what? \"\n\n\"A steak, you know, a cooked cow, a fried bovine. Don't seem to be able to get a decent steak anywhere in this city. All gristle and fat.\"\n\nMy right leg was hovering over the bridges ledge. It had been like that for a couple of minutes.\n\n\"I'm sorry, but I'm a little busy right now...\"\n\n\"Figures. Everyone in this freaking city is always busy. No steaks, no manners.\"\n\n\"Well,\" I said, bringing my leg back onto the bridges wall. \"Not everyone is like that. My mom had time for everybody, and she was born here.\"\n\nI turned around to see a large man with a mop of thick dark hair. He was wearing a suit but had his collar unbuttoned.\n\n\"Guess times have changed. Smoke?\" he asked, pulling out a cigarette.\n\n\"No, thank you. I don't smoke, it's not good for you.\"\n\nHe gave me a strange look and then began laughing. \"Yeah, got to be careful, a haha, this stuff can kill you, haha!\" \n\n\"That's funny...\" I said, unamused.\n\n\"Ah I'm sorry buddy. So, why you jumping? Can't find a decent steak around here either?\" he said, regaining his composure and wiping a tear from his eye.\n\nI sighed thinking about it all.\n\n\"Wife left me, took the kids and to top it off.. I have just been diagnosed with stomach cancer.\"\n\nIt actually felt kind of good to tell someone.\n\n\"Ah, that's rough buddy. And jumping off a bridge is on your bucket list?\"\n\n\"I guess it is my bucket list.\" I replied.\n\n\"You know, my brother was diagonosed with stomach cancer three years ago. Chemo was rough but he's still kicking around. \"\n\n\"Yeah, well...\"\n\n\"Look I don't mean to waste your time, I just want a good steak. You know anywhere or not?\"\n\nI considered.\n\n\"There is this bbq place downtown. I used to take my wife there a lot. Best steaks I've ever had - well seasoned and they know what rare means.\"\n\n\"Sounds good. Well, come on then, you take me there and I'll buy. I'm pretty new around town and could do with the company - and the directions!\"\n\nI looked back down at the river. I guess it could wait. I stepped down from the wall.\n\n\"You really should try and quit smoking you know.\" I said as we ambled down the street.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"I like your tshirt.\"\n\nI almost let go in startlement, and through the rush of emotions and tears streaming down my face, all I could manage to say was \"w-what?\"\n\n\"Your tshirt. I like it.\"\n\nThere was a lady sitting on the railing above me, her legs crossed over the edge like it was nothing; smoking a cigarette and blinking absently at the scene that befell before us.\n\nI looked down at my tshirt. It was a plain blue tshirt with some faded writing on it that once read \"my other car is also a ferrari.\"\n\n\"Oh...uh...thanks..\" I managed weakly. I leaned back against rail again. I had almost done it. Almost had the guts.\n\nIt's not too late I thought, and mustered up that same strong clear-headed conviction I had just moments before. I felt strong. Ready. This was mine, and mine alone, and no one could take it away from me.\n\nJust as I was about vault off the edge into blissfull abyss below, the lady flicked her cigarette over. I watched the sad little trail of smoke and ash float uselessly down, whilst she lit up another one.\n\n\"You ever watch Grey's Anatomy?\" she asked me, as if we had just been talking about TV shows not moments before.\n\n\"What...\" I asked weakly, feeling my resolve leave me once again.\n\n\"Grey's Anatomy. That show about doctors.\"\n\n\"No...\" I said miserably, once again leaning back against the rail.\n\n\"Yeah me either.\"\n\nWe sat there for a bit in silence until she finished her second cigarette, flicked it over after the first, and then spun her legs over back onto the road. \n\n\"Well, see ya\" she said over her shoulder, with a casual backwards wave.\n\nI feebly waved back, but she didn't see and she didn't care. I looked down at the drop beneath me. It didn't seem so frightening any more. Nor did it seem exciting, or at all like a strong statement of 'doing it my way'.\n\nWhat the fuck was I doing here?" ]	11
	[WP] There is in fact a God, but it's the God of a very obscure religion.	[ "Who are you?\n\nI am 'Ulth. I am the first god. I am the god of the hunt and funerals, and you know, other stuff. \n\nI've never heard of you.\n\nI know.\n\nSo what do you hunt?\n\nThe others.\n\nThe other who?\n\nThe other gods. The gods of words. The gods of rules. The gods that stand between my people and the dreaming. They rise up. I hunt them down.\n\nWhy?\n\nI love you all. You are my neices and nephews. I will not have you held down, subjugated.\n\nHave you seen what we do to each other?\n\nIt breaks my heart. But we were free before we invented gods, and we will be free again.\n\nWhat about you. Aren't you a god?\n\nSure, but I'm not a god of much; just the hunt, funerals, and some other stuff. I stay out of morals, rules, decisions, and all that stuff. That's why you don't know my names.\n\nSo you created the universe?\n\nNah, this is just the way I found it. I'm a god, I don't think there ever was a creator. Everybody asks but I got nothing.\n\nOkay, so why am I here?\n\nWell I needed to make sure you weren't a god. There's always noobs hiding out as mortals. So every time someone dies and doesn't move on I check.\n\nMove on to what?\n\nThe dreaming that must be death. The place where all the free creatures go.\n\nHeaven?\n\nNothing so particular.\n\nSo I'm not a god, do I move on?\n\nNope. If you were going to do that you'd have done it.\n\nSo...?\n\nIt's that other stuff... In your case I'm the god of do overs. Do better this time child.\n\n_Now I cry like an infant as my memory fades_.\n\n---\n\n(Based on a god I am working on as foundation in a novel.)", "\"Excuse me?\" \n\nThe man moved his mouth like a fish gasping for water. The attendant shrugged. \n\n\"I'm sorry sir,\" he droned, \"You're going to have to get into the other line.\" The man stretched his neck in agitation, an old habit. Squared his shoulders for an argument. \n\n\"Just. Please, sir. The other line. I don't get paid enough for this.\"\n\n\"You get paid!?\" The man was flush with anger. Sweat gathered on his upper lip. Was it getting hotter in here? It must be. \"What did I ever do wrong?\" he implored.\n\n\"Sometimes you bet on the wrong horse, so to speak.\"\n\n\"You mean to tell me that--\"\n\n\"-- Yeah he's a horse.\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"He.\"\n\n\"So he is a he?\"\n\n\"In so much as he's a horse.\"\n\nAnd then the flames came.", "Tia slowly rolled her shoulders as she walked, relishing how much better they felt after two hours of stretching. The yoga retreat was exactly what she needed, and definitely worth the swim here. She breathed in the salty ocean air and happily gazed out at the turquoise waters that surrounded Aegina's coastline. The beach felt warm under her feet and, not for the first time, Tia enjoyed the feeling of wiggling her toes in the perfect white sand. She had been devastated when she first lost her tail but in the time since she had grown to love her legs and feet. They did make swimming more difficult though, even if you could control the ocean current. She rolled her shoulders again. \n\nA bell tolled in the distance. She glanced up from the water briefly but she already knew what she would see. Last minute church goers would be rushing inside, vying for any seat left on one of the hard wood pews. Those silly mortals. They returned each week, sometimes even more frequently than that, just to worship another mortal who was killed. They thought he was god, or the son of god, or part of god - they couldn't really seem to agree. But if he was a god then he couldn't have been killed, not really, and certainly not by mere mortals. She should know. \n\nBesides, these mortals with all of their \"religions\" were entirely wrong about how things came to be. They walked upon her corpse, and at night they gazed up in awe at her tail, and still they did not know it was she who created all things. At the end of their days they would be sent to visit her other half, though which side they would see would depend entirely on them. But still they speak of heaven and hell. They do not know. \n\nTia realized she was frowning and quickly she shook her head, as if the physical act could dispel the unpleasant thoughts. No, they may not know now but they will. One day she would return to the pantheon and when she did the deities would tremble in fear. That must be why they did not correct these fool mortals, they were fearful to draw her attention. \n\nThere was time for that later though. For now, she just wanted more rest. Tia was like the calm bay on that greek isle, she was floating through the world, following the refreshing breeze, and washing ashore anywhere she wanted. She was enjoying herself. She did miss her sons, and she tried to avoid fresh water so as not to call forward too many painful memories. But she was living a life she chose at the moment. One day the current would drag her back and she would roar forward with the crushing power of her youth. \n\nBut there was time for that later. Time for her to avenge Abzu, Kingu and the rest. Time for her to crush the usurper Marduk. Time for her to take back the tablet of destinies, her tablet. Then she would correct these foolish mortals and they would fall at her feet. Or tail. Maybe both, why not? Then she would again be Tiamat. \n\nHer thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a man running up the beach towards her. His white swim trunks stood in stark contrast to his golden tan skin. His dark curly hair was damp and sweet with the oceans' water. Droplets fell off his brow and rolled down his Davidesque body. His smile, her favorite feature, lit up his face the moment his eyes took her in. \n\nIn that one instant thoughts of tablets and Marduk were gone, erased by thoughts of Demetrius. Tiamat could wait. For now, she liked just being Tia. " ]	3
	[WP] A single portal is discovered in a forest. The world anxiously watches as we send our first roped volunteer in.	[ "My brother volunteered.\n\n\"I am too late to explore the earth and too early to explore space and deep water terrifies me,\" he told our parents, while signing away his life in a heap of papers. \"The world will remember me as an adventurer this way.\"\n\n\"What if there's only water on the other side?\"\n\nHe only shook his head and smiled.\n\nMy parents didn't want to go with him to the site, which I suppose is understandable. There's a peculiar reality to it, when you're actually there. The said their goodbyes as we boarded the plane. I didn't want to miss out on any remaining time with my only brother. So I went. My parents would watch from their TV, huddled under blankets. I would watch from the grass, huddled under an umbrella.\n\nThey had prepared a team of five. All men. All relatively young but one. He was probably 60 and when he arrived on site, he looked around and cackled. \"This is the way to die!\" he told the pouring rain. They tell me he was a prominent physicist. No one else had any sort of educational connection to the event. It was just a bunch of lebensmutig young men. Or maybe just suicidals who figured this was the bravest way out. \n\nIt's a portal, according to my brother. According to the news. A death trap, according to many, including my parents. Including the old physicist. Both, according to me. That it is a portal is undeniable. It has too powerful of a draw. When I first came to the site, following my brother like a duckling, I could feel it. It hummed in my bones and reverberated through my vision. In the span of ten minutes I developed what I can only describe as synesthesia. I wonder if it will ever go away, the association of sounds with textures and colors with sounds. My world is hallucinogenic now. It's oddly soothing.\n\nThe news crews buzzed around us, nearly overpowering the thrum of the portal, as several research teams debriefed the five and their witnesses - myself included. My brother and the others were hooked to harnesses attached to enormous winches that sat just beyond the cameras. Then. The last goodbyes. At least, the last ones according to the witnesses. And the physicist. The other four insisted this was only the beginning, that they would be back and that more could explore the portal. They were the only ones who felt sure. The five stepped into the portal and everyone else stepped back. Colors thrummed as the air pulsed. And they were gone.\n\nIt's been two hours. The lines leading into the portal are still taut. The news crews are still sitting around but their cameras haven't been rolling for quite some time. We are all waiting. I can still hear textures - the trees around the portal are particularly fascinating. \n\nWe are still waiting.\n\nHow much longer?\n\nI think....\n\nI think my brother is gone.\n\nBut the line is still taut.", "\"Therefore, I conclude that the portal will translocate each and all of its entrants to a random global position.\" Before a dumbstruck crowd, the old physicist stroked his yellow beard, and tapped the residual ash from his pipe. \n\nIt quickly caught the imagination, especially of the young. A grand adventure, it seemed. Men and women arrived, loaded from head to toe with food, water, and survival tools. Some seemed confident of where they were headed: A bearded man in a parka donned sunglasses, snow boots, salopettes, a thick seal fur coat, and entered with a sled and a convoy of dogs. Another man - perhaps more optimistic, though less adventurous - stepped through wearing nothing but Speedos and suntan lotion. \n\nThe old man, however, stayed well clear, and smugly sucked on a back draught of saliva and singed tobacco. None of the adventurers were ever seen again. And it wasn't that the old crackpot had told a lie, nor was he wrong. It was that, when he had said that \"the portal will translocate each and all of its entrants to a random global position,\" well that was precisely what he meant. Scores of hair brained, cocksure adventurers were stepping straight into random positions in the earth's crust, mantle, and core. \n\nThe old codger chuckled to himself as he imagined the bafflement when future discoveries were made of Speedo clad sun worshippers, half infused in mountainous rock; or that of an Arctic explorer, complete with his sled and dogs, being chipped out of a quarry in Wales." ]	2
	[WP] The end of the world has arrived, and it's nothing like we ever anticipated.	[ "The end of the world was altogether unremarkable. Those poor souls, like myself, who work in stuffy office buildings pray for an eventful apocalypse, if for no other reason than to break up the monotony of the daily status meeting, followed by the status meetings status meeting, wrapped up later in the status of status meeting status meeting meeting, directly followed by lunch.\n \n Today, however, we were halfway through a lecture on how well a project was going by a manager who was inexpert on the subject when all sound ceased. An elephant could trumpet next to your ear without startling you, unless you turned your head and noticed it, upon which you would indeed be startled as an elephant in an office building is as foreign as efficient leadership or completed deadlines. The lack of sound drastically improved the meeting, though the improvement was quickly nullified by the adoption of frantic note-writing to communicate, a skill that had laid dormant in most of us since elementary school and teachers had necessitated the art form.\n \n As notes were churned out faster than a central bank with poor fiscal policy, sound returned with the vengeance of an unpaid loan shark, if instead of breaking kneecaps with a lead pipe he preferred the vuvuzela and an amplifier powerful enough to be outlawed by common decency and military limitation treaties. Immediately my head felt as if it had been a tree, chopped to the ground, mashed into pulp, printed and bound into a novella, then burned for the amusement of a group of Fascists. That's about the time the weasels started flying.\n \n In the sky sat a large oblong pyramid, deftly telling the law of gravity to shove it, as thousands of weasels, outfitted with goggles and aviator scarves, naturally, flew through the air towards it. All along the outer edge of the pyramid stood an ever growing number of weasels, most having removed their aviation gear upon landing. Standing, gaping, I said the only thing that came to mind at a time like this.\n \n \"I think the third quarter projections might be a little off now.\"", "Wild discussions flew around the internet the moment the news was released. Most thought that it had to be hoax. Only a few truly believed the geologists' report. And it made sense. There was absolutely no way it could happen.\n\nIt was Tuesday a few weeks later. Normal life hadn't been affected in the slightest by the news. Even if it was true, what could anyone do about it? Then, at 3:56 PM, only a minute off from the geologists' calculations, there was a colossal pop around the world. Suddenly, the surface was enveloped in darkness. Strangest of all, people began to fall into the sky. Those on the ISS saw magma on the outside of the planet and were able to confirm that it had, in fact, turned completely inside-out." ]	2
Seriously, don't you wish your child came with a parenting manual?	[WP] Every child is born with an instruction manual which explains how to best raise them (don't let them have a cellphone until 16, etc). You child's manual is filled with strange entries: Allow them to play with the Fairies, make sure they drink at least one dragons tear, etc.	[ "Not many remembered exactly when Precognitive Parenting Manuals first rose to popularity. In the beginning, most thought it to be a hoax- the tagline being \"Never Worry About Bad Decisions Again!\". They were critically panned for being 'unproven' among many other more unsavory comments, and so the product quickly fell to the point of being openly mocked and laughed at.\n\nSome ten years after that, however, a young man went public with the information that somehow, the book had actually worked. It accurately predicted all of the major events of his son's life within that period, and in his own words was 'scarily accurate'. Ten years prior, nobody could have ever guessed how quickly those same manuals would come back, and how soon after that they became an optional government issue to anyone who was close to having a child. As can be imagined, many people took the manual after hearing about how much more simple it made parenting.\n\nBut there were rare cases of the manuals saying very strange things. Don't let him wuggle with the deedle-do. Don't let her run. Ever. She can't run until she's fifteen. Your child will grow horns at age six. Don't be alarmed. The odd events came to pass- even the stranger and nonsensical ones. Some blamed the books themselves, but as there was no proof, nothing could be done about it one way or the other.\n\nBe sure to have a store of scale polish ready for her tenth birthday. She'll need it.\n\nA man and his wife sat in the living room of their upper-middle class home. They held a thin book between them, open to a rather worn page. Its edges were creased heavily compared to the rest of the book, indicating just how often the couple had looked upon that one page. Those words were written there, in plain and large text, among the rest of the smaller sentences on that page. \n \nThey lowered the manual, looking past it and across their coffee table. Their daughter sat on a chair, stolen away from their kitchen. She couldn't seem to stop scratching her arms and legs. \n\n\"I... am starting to see what the book meant,\" the man said, staring at his daughter. \"But seriously... What's scale polish, even? I looked everywhere for it. Even the doctors had no effin'-\"\n\n\"Language, Martin,\" the woman quickly interrupted, tapping the man on his thigh. \"Do not taint our daughter's ears with profanities.\"\n\n\"I didn't even swear, Theresa,\" Martin replied hotly. \"Really though. What's scale polish supposed to be? Is it just shoe polish? Do I need to mix it with something?\" He groaned and released the manual, rubbing his face tiredly. \"Sophia, dear. Try not to scratch so much.\"\n\n\"I can't stop...\" their daughter grumbled. Where she was scratching, grey scales had grown up through her skin. They had spread so much that the girl's arms and legs looked more reptilian than human. Her forehead bore two impressive yet small horns, and she had a strangely reptilian appendage laying weakly through the back of the chair.\n\n\"It could have been more specific,\" Theresa said, opening the manual again. \"At least it warned us about the horns. And the tail, as well!\" \n\n\"So, what? Roger's son turns out fine, but my daughter turns into a lizard?\" Martin asked. \"Next the book will say 'beware of wings' or something. Why not. Let's go the whole distance. She can be a dragon, or-\"\n\n\"Martin, you shouldn't have said anything...\" Theresa quietly scolded him, holding the manual up for him to see it. \n\nSure enough, a few pages ahead, new words had appeared. Beware of wings and other things. Prepare clothing with holes for her fourteenth.\n\n\"Great. I guess we're going to be another one of 'those' families,\" Martin grumbled aloud. \"We can go buddy up with the tiger guys. Oh, and maybe the guy who had his daughter turn into a mantis. Remember that?\"\n\n\"Sorry, papa,\" Sophia murmured. \"I'll try to get better.\"\n\n\"Don't apologize, Sophia. This isn't your fault,\" Martin quickly replied, \"It was the damn book. I'd burn it to ashes, but now that things are different, I doubt that would do anything. Might make things worse, even.\"\n\n\"Language, Martin...\" Theresa said again, wagging her finger at her husband. \"And Sophia, darling... go take a bath. It will ease your itchiness.\"\n\nThe girl got up and ran off, nearly knocking her chair over in the process. Her steps thudded heavily as she ran off toward the bathroom. \n\nShe was heavier than any girl at ten ought to be.\n\n(Welp that might read like crap. First time I've actually written for a prompt here.)", "\nknock knock\n\n\"It's open.\" I say nonchalantly as I fiddle with my new Nintendo 3ds, playing with the camera. \nMy bedroom door opens, revealing my dad. A tall olive man, skinny with a slight belly, fully bearded and awesome. Dad sits at the foot of the bed holding a full brown envelope.\n\n\"Hey Andrew. Did you enjoy your birthday party?\" Dad asks me. I close my DS. \n\n\"I loved it!\" I get out of my blanket and give him a one armed hug still holding my DS. \"The DS is awesome!\" I open my DS and show him the front facing camera. My dad laughs. \"Smile!\" The DS clicks, taking a selfie.\n\n\"A masterpiece!\" Dad says laughing. \"Listen.\" My dad's tone flattens. \"You're a big kid now; ten years old and very smart. I want to talk about something important okay?\" He asks. \n\nI nod. \"Okay.\" I sit beside him. I put my DS away and left it on. I'm not done playing with it yet! \n\n\"I have a letter for you and it's very important that you read it now so I can explain it.\" Dad takes out a long white piece of paper. Immediately, I notice an official looking crest with a two lions and a horse. I take the paper. The paper was tough and smooth, like laminated paper. \n\n\"That up there is the official Canadian coat of arms. This means it's a letter from the Queen.\" Dad points at the two lions and a horse picture. \"Go ahead, give it a read.\" \n\nI started to read out loud. \n\nFirst of all, congratulations on your new baby boy! This instruction manual is for you to have a successful child rearing experience!\n\nI stop. \"What's child rearing?\" I ask dad. \n\n\"It means taking care of someone from when they're a baby until they become adults.\" He answers quickly. \n\n\"So like me?\" I smile.\n\n\"That's right smarty pants.\" He pats my head. \n\nI continue. \n\nif you follow these set of guidelines, the government of Canada ensures that your child will have a very fulfilling and complete life! As evidenced by the millions of successful families in our country! \n\nIf you choose to follow and complete the guidelines (with evidence), the government of Canada assures you that after recieving and reviewing the evidence, you and your parenting partner will receive a child rearing medal of completion as well as a retirement package. (To see your retirement package, please log in to www.gov.ca/login)\n\nI look at my dad, a tad confused. \n\n\"If you decide to have a baby in the future, you will get this letter and if you do what it says, you get money. Your grandparents did it, our neighbors, your classmates' parents have it, everyone who has a baby does.\" Dad explains. \n\n\"So if you do what this letter says, you get money?\" I ask. \n\n\"Yup.\" \n\n\"And all my classmates' parents have this too?\" \n\n\"Everyone who has a baby.\" He holds me closer. \"Continue son.\" \n\nPlease show evidence by either personal video footage or a photograph, please note that these will be reviewed extensively and all evidence submitted must be valid.\n\n\"Do you get it?\" Dad asks, interrupting me. \n\n\"Kind of, so you guys take pictures of me?\" \n\n\"All the parents have to do is follow what the instructions say and once we're done, we take a picture. Read the instructions and you will see.\" He points at the paper. \n\nI continue. \n\nMilestone 1: First words \n\n\"What's a milestone?\" I ask. \n\n\"Milestones are very important events in our lives.\" My dad takes out a CD from the envelope, it was labelled Andrew's first words. \"In this CD is a video of your first words just like the milestone. Continue please.\" I nod.\n\nMilestone 2: First best friend\n\nMy dad takes out a photo of two kids, arms locked on each other's shoulders. \"This guy in the blue shirt is you and in the yellow shirt is Paul. You might not remember but you guys were best friends when you were just four.\" He explains. \n\n\"I remember Paul.\" I smile and continue. \n\nMilestone 3: First day of school \n\n\"I remember this! You took a picture of me on my first day of school! I was such a chicken, not letting go of your arms! I'm not scared anymore though!\" I say. \n\n\"Not even a bit son.\" \n\nMilestone 4: First sword fighting lesson\n\n\"Huh?\" I look at my dad. \n\n\"Keep reading please son.\" \n\nMilestone 5: First fantasy lesson\n\nMilestone 6: First magic spell \n\nMilestone 7: First fairy encounter\n\nMilestone 8: First quest \n\nMilestone 9: First kill (strictly evil fantastical monsters only)\n\n\"This doesn't make sense dad. Is this real?\" I ask, dumbfounded. \n\n\"We already talked to politicians, police and even emailed our prime minister. All of them assured me this letter is true.\" Dad explains.\n\n\"But, there are no fairies or magic, it's all a story right?\" I'm met with my dad's blank stare. \n\n\"Apparently not son.\" Dad takes out a book labelled 'book of spells' and a small box with red tape that says 'handle with care'. \"The book and box came in the mail this morning.\"\n\n\"What's in the box?\" I ask.\n\n\"Let's find out shall we?\" Dad gives me the box to open. The box moved slightly as I took the box from Dad, which surprised me. I remove the red tape and then suddenly, what looks like a small red dragon flies out of the box and lands on my shoulder. I screamed and brushed the dragon off. \n\n\"Woah woah boy, don't you touch a handsome, young fairy like me with those stubby fingers of yours!\" The dragon spoke...it spoke! \n\nI started to cry. \"Dad!\" I look at dad who's expressionless. \n\n\"Let me grab the camera.\" Dad leaves. \n\n", "Let her hear your song in the light of the first full moon\n\nOdd. My son's first instruction was for my wife to hold him in the car ride home.\n\nBut the manual had worked well with William, our beautiful boy, we weren't going to argue. It was why we had our daughter. We always thought we wouldn't be able to handle two children but with the instructions...we thought it was worth a try.\n\nSo we sang to her. My wife has such a beautiful voice but I hadn't sung in front of someone since I was a little kid. \n\nLet the first snowfall on the mountain touch her cheek.\n\nWe became weather fanatics. We bought camping gear. And when we saw the predictions for chance of snow, we drove the three hours and set up our tent. We waited four days, my wife and sleeping in shifts but the snow finally came. William had never laughed as hard as he did when he felt the snow on his tongue. His first snow too.\n\nLet her wish upon a shooting star.\n\nWe waited up all night watching the stars. We hadn't done that since we were teenagers. And when my wife cried out when she saw the streak of light, our little angel's eyes opened for a moment and I will remember that look for the rest of my life.\n\nLet her feel the final heartbeat of man's best friend.\n\nI cried for hours. He was fourteen. He wasn't so mobile anymore and I knew it was coming. My wife had never had a pet. She said she wouldn't be able to handle being there. I knew I'd have to be there. I'd heard from vets how they look for you if you leave the room. So we all stayed with him. And we held our hands together on him as he went to sleep. \n\nWilliam cried. My wife cried. But not my little girl. She felt him go to sleep and then she sighed and rested her head against me. I've never felt so sad and lost yet loved and strong as I did then.\n\nLet her hold your hand when she goes.\n\nI had to flip through hundreds of blank pages but there it was on the very last page. The doctor said there was nothing they could do. They said her heart just wasn't strong enough.\n\nI had only seven months with my little girl. But in that time I had more of being a husband and a father than I had ever known I could. And I will never forget one moment of it. I will never forget one moment of when my family was whole." ]	3
	[WP] Your midlife crisis happens exactly in the middle of your life, it comes at age 8.	[ "\"Mommy, Moommmmmm!\" Tim screamed as he ran through the house.\n\n\"What's wrong now, Timmy?\" his mother replied.\n\n\"The candy I bought last week. The Hershey's Bars and Starburst and Skittles I bought. Why did I buy them?!? Why didn't I buy that toy car I always wanted?!?\" Timmy screamed, as he sat down and rocked back and forth, as tears poured down his face.\n\n\"Jesus Timmy, what's gone wrong now?\"\n\n\"What happened if I bought the wrong things? What happened if that toy car I've always wanted is discontinued in all stores? Why did I choose the candy over the car???\"\n\n\"Don't worry Timmy, Christmas is coming up and I'm sure Santa can get you it.\"\n\n\"That is just it. What happened if Santa's not real? What happens if Santa is just a myth? I know I get presents from him, but I've never seen him in real life. What happens if he disappears and doesn't get that for me? Why didn't I get that car?\"\n\nThe sound of the garage door opening echoes to the living room. Dad steps out his car and closes the garage door and enters the living room.\n\n\"Honey, can you get Timmy that car he wanted last week? Can you drive Timmy to the store?\" asked Mom.\n\n\"Why, what happened now?\" asked Dad.\n\n\"Timmy wants the car now, not the candy.\"\n\n\"Fine, hop in the car Timmy, we're going to Santa's workshop!\"\n\n\"Yayyyyy!\" joyfully yelled Timmy.\n\n-Apologies on it not being first person, and any errors I made will be fixed tomorrow since i am currently procrastinating on an essay due technically today. It's 1 am.\n\n", "The fluorescent lights cast a sickly pallor over the ice cream store. The hum of the refrigeration unnerved eight year old Jimmy Jensen as he stared at the multitude of flavors. As he considered his options, Jimmy felt as if the universe rested atop his slight shoulders. A gangly girl with a smile full of braces and a bright pink apron stood behind the counter. The tag on her apron said \"Erica\".\n\n\nErica asked the little boy, \"What flavor would you like today?\"\n\n\nJimmy sighed deeply and pinched his brow. \"I don't know. I don't know what I want. Does it really matter what flavor I get? Does it matter if I get a cone or a bowl?\"\n\n\n\"Well when I can't make up my mind, I ask myself what I'm in the mood for and eliminate anything I don't want. Helps a lot at Diners.\" \n\n\nJimmy shook his head. She just didn't get it. This girl had her entire life ahead of her. She looked so happy. \"That's not it. I mean, what's the point if I get ice cream or not? Is there any meaning in my eating this ice cream? Afterwards I'll go home and do my homework. Is that all life is? Just eating Mint Chocolate Chip and working on Vocabulary until the end? That makes me like Mr. Chewy then.\"\n\n\nThe girl frowned and shook her head. \"I'm sorry I don't know who that is. Who's Mr. Chewy?\"\n\n\n\"Mr. Chewy is the hamster in homeroom. All he does is eat, drink, and run on his wheel. He seems happy, but he doesn't really know he's stuck in a cage. He doesn't know anything about what's out there. About how fun it is on the slide or hanging from the monkey bars. He isn't free. And that's me, that's all of us. We think we're better cause we drink chocolate milk and play Super Smash Bros but we're really all stuck in our own cages. They're bigger than 3 by 2 feet but it's the same thing.\" Forlorn, Jimmy stared at his blue light up strap Sketchers.\n\n\n\"Never mind. I'm just going to go home and take a nap. I'm not in the mood for ice cream anymore. It doesn't matter, it'll just spoil my appetite for dinner anyway.\" Jimmy turned around and walked toward the exit. \n\n\n\"Hey kid wait up!\" Erica raised her voice.\n\n\nThe sad little boy looked over his shoulder. \"What?\"\n\n\n\"Everything doesn't need to have a point. It's okay to just do things because they're fun or enjoyable. I really like strawberry sundaes even though it's empty calories and doesn't do a lot for my health. It tastes good you know? Sometimes, the pleasure of doing something is the point in and of itself. So why not splurge a little? Here, have a double scoop of Mint Chocolate Chip on me. What do you say?\" Erica scooped two dollops of green ice cream into a cone and held it out to Jimmy. She flashed a smile at the boy, the braces gleaming in the light.\n\n\nJimmy hesitated. He stared at Erica, considering what she had said. After a long moment, Jimmy took the cone from Erica. He smiled and licked the cold ice cream. It might not have been the freshest or the sweetest, but it was the best ice cream he had ever tasted. \n\n\nJimmy grinned. \"Thanks Erica. I'll keep that in mind.\"" ]	2
	[WP] The apocalypse that no one noticed.	[ "\"So. What's happening?\" \n\n\"Nothin', dude!\"\n\n\"Dude!\"\n\n\"Dude!\"\n\n\"Man, that's a beautiful sunset.\"\n\n\"Isn't the sun supposed to set in the west, not in the direction of Washington DC?\"\n\n\"Dude! You must've missed that day in Geography class!\"\n\n\"Dude!\"\n\n\"Dude!\"\n\n\"Dude, I was at the mall today. I think they were making a movie but I didn't see any cameras. Total Fangraphic shit, dude! It was some stuff. This method acting can get real crazy. Look, I got bit! \"\n\n\"Dude! Seeing is believing! I'll bet they were cough also making movies in that Quik Mart on my street. Oh, man, they cough were puking up a storm. It looked and smelled real. My cough shirt reeks--inhale that fine boutique, dude!--because I cough cough couldn't get away in time.\"\n\n\"Dude!\"\n\n\"What's that in cough the distance?\"\n\n\"Dude! I'm not saying it's aliens but... Aliens!\"\n\n\"Dude!\"\n\n\"Ahh you're right. It's probably some weather balloons. Whoah! You feel that?!\"\n\n\"Like cough cough someone turned up the bass. Think it was an earthquake?\"\n\n\"Dude? Nothing ever happens in this here sleepy hamlet.\"\n\n\"Preach it, dude!\"\n\n\"Dude!\"\n\n\"Dude.\"\n\n\"Dude?\"\n\n\"I cough don't feel so good cough dude.\"\n\n\"Me two, dude. Me two. Look! Another sunset.\"\n\n\"Dude. Nature is cough a freakin' miracle.\"\n\n\"Dude...\"\n\n\"cough cough cough\"\n\n", "Herbert Franklin had always been a good man. All his neighbors knew him as a consistently helpful and jovial man. His children loved him. He had been hit hard by the death of his wife a few years ago, but he bounced back and was as nice as ever. Herbert Franklin was a truly good person.\n\nIn fact, Herbert Franklin was the only truly good person on the entire planet.\n\nWhen the rapture came, the Heavenly trumpets blared in the sky. Everyone on Earth remarked, in different languages and gesticulations, that there must be a thunderstorm coming.\n\nThe angels soared through the sky, an omen of the glorious rapture of the virtuous. Nobody looked up. The few who did wondered what kind of fireworks somebody was using.\n\nHerbert Franklin sat alone in his living room, reading the newspaper. At every mention of tragedy, he made a mental note to do an extra good deed tomorrow. Herbert's good deeds accounted, directly or indirectly, for 70% of the goodwill of the entire Eastern United States.\n\nSuddenly, there was a bright flash of light, and Herbert found himself standing before the gates of Heaven.\n\n\"Welcome!\" Cried the angel. \"You have been deemed worth of ascension in the glorious rapturing of mankind!\"\n\nHerbert looked around. \"Where's everyone else?\" He asked, scratching his head.\n\nHerbert was ushered into Heaven and received eternal bliss. Meanwhile, on Earth, life continued as before. Herbert's neighbors wondered what happened to him, but they hated to pry. So the muffin baskets from grateful old ladies and the flowers from affectionate children piled up outside his door. Nobody ever figured out what happened to Herbert. The general consensus was that he was too tired to go outside.\n\nEveryone missed Herbert. Over time, they realized that the neighborhood had trouble functioning without him. There was nobody to bring your trashcans down to the curb if you forgot about it. Nobody to organize the 4th of July picnic. Lost kittens remained missing.\n\nBut, eventually, things changed. Herbert's neighbors began picking up his slack. In Herbert's absence, everyone he has touched became more helpful, more well-meaning, more honest. Two years after the end of days, Herbert's neighborhood was as happy and vibrant as ever.\n\nEven after he was gone, everyone said that Herbert Franklin was a truly good man. And they were right." ]	2
	[wp] you and your significant other have an unexpected baby on the way. Onee day an angel appears and tells you that the child is actually jesus	[ "\"Honey, did you get the towels?\" Jenny looked around the nearly empty room, checking to see if she had missed anything. Nothing but boxes.\n\n\"I think they're in with the rest of the bathroom stuff.\" Mark shouted from another room. He walked in, brushing off his hands and smiling at her. \n\n\"I got the car loaded up. You almost ready?\"\n\n\"Almost. Just getting a couple more things.\" Jenny looked around again. The feeling she was forgetting something kept nagging at her. She frowned...\n\nSuddenly the room was flooded with light. They cringed, shielding their eyes. \n\n\"Do not be afraid, Jenny and Mark of San Francisco. I come with good news.\"\n\nA tall man in what appeared to be a white robe stood before them. \n\n\"WHO THE HECK ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN OUR HOUSE?!\"\n\n\"I am the angel Gabriel and I came to tell you the good news.\" \n\n\"Wait. The archangel Gabriel?\"\n\n\"Yes. I come to announce the birth of our lord and saviour. You will have a son and you will name him Jesus.\" \n\n\"...Wait what?\" \n\n\"You're pregnant. In the family way. Have a bun in the oven. Preggo.\" \n\n\"And it's with Jesus?!\"\n\n\"Yes.\" \n\n\"... I'm hallucinating aren't I?\" \n\n\"Well I'm having the same hallucination so...\"\n\n\"You're not hallucinating, crazy or dreaming. Jenny here is actually pregnant with Jesus. Any more questions?\" * snap \n\n\"No? Good. You're going to have a baby and name him Jesus. I'll come back when he's older. Have a nice day.\"", "\"You're what?\"\n\n\"Pregnant.\"\n\n\"You cheat-\"\n\n\"I never slept-\"\n\n\"Get out!\"\n\n****\n\nI remember when TV had a lot of static in it. Somehow they changed that. Doesn't make football any less boring. I sighed and flagged the bartender.\n\nHe looked at me and poured me some more of that sweet, sweet nectar. He was completely silent. Screw that, he was going to listen to me.\n\n\"Girlfriend got pregnant.\" He stared and topped off the drink. But he stood there. Good bartender. Also an empty bar. No one really drinks at noon.\n\n\"Not mine. We were saving it.\" I lifted the whiskey glass and gulped it. My throat felt the burn and I let out a sigh, clinking it on the table and waved for some more. \"I was, at least. Cheating bitch.\"\n\nHe poured wordlessly, but his eyes locked onto me. \"We were together 9 months. 9 whole months and it goes up in flames, just like that. You ever been in love?\" I took another sip. He poured again and grunted. I couldn't tell if it was yes or no. Doesn't matter.\n\n\"Why did she do it? I loved her.\" Another sip. Another clink. Another wave. \"I did everything for her. I risked everything.\" I waved. He didn't pour. What the hell?\n\nI looked up at him, almost straight at his eyes. He was looking behind me, and just as I turned around the door opened.\n\nA slightly overweight man stepped in, wearing a goddamn toga. His hairy stomach showed through the fabric, and he had cheap plastic wings on his back. The halo was attached by wire wrapped in a guady tiara around his head. He swayed unevenly left and right, and stumbled forwards. Drunks get weirder every day.\n\nI sighed and turned around, and my glass had filled again. I took another sip. Might as well drink straight from the bottle by this point.\n\nA hand thrusted me forwards. Not enough to slam onto the table, but it was definitely noticeable and leaned me forwards. I could smell the alcohol on his breath - or maybe it was just mine - when he leaned in next to me. His hand was on my shoulder, patting, and his face was on my other shoulder. \"Heeey.\"\n\nI rammed my shoulder up onto his chin and pushed him backwards, getting a satisfying \"oof\" in return. \"I'm not here to talk.\" I swear the bartender rolled his eyes.\n\n\"I...I know you.\"\n\n\"I don't. Get away.\"\n\n\"Get me a Budweiser.\" The bartender, the disloyal asshole, got a mug and started filling it. The drunk sat down next to me and I let out a long sigh. Who even drinks at this time? \"Really. I know you. Your girlfriend.\"\n\nSomething snapped. I don't remember the course of events that led up to what happened next. It was a blur and frenzy of glass, white fabric, shouting, colors, sounds, and the next thing I know, I was on the floor.\n\nI was on top of him, he had a bloodied nose, the halo was all askew and he was blubbering something about \"Jesus.\" I felt strong arms pull me back. \"Wait, wait.\"\n\n\"Your kid! It's Jesus!\" He was slurring his words, and the bloodied pulp on his head didn't really help enunciation. Somehow I could make out his stupid claims.\n\nThe arms wrapped around me and tugged me out the door, and I rolled down onto the streets as he tossed me out. The concrete slammed into me as I hit; that's probably going to leave some bruises.\n\nI stood up, dusted myself off, and went off to find another bar.\n\nJoseph never quits." ]	2
	[WP] A bag of potato chips vs a box of chocolates.	[ "The mini-bag was down, deflated. Potato Chips (PC) leapt to Mini-Bag's side, lifting the top ever so slightly as not to further discomfort. \n\n\"I did the best I could.\" With that, the mini-bag slowly floated away in the wind. PC turned towards the crusher of dreams, destroyer of love, and fool maker of those who wanted a normal life.: The Box of Chocolates \n\n\"I see...\" Box of chocolates (BC) started as they tried to tie the flashy red bow on the front of itself. The gold wrapping of the packaging almost glowing in the moonlight. \"That Mini-Bags death has left you a little...salty.\" \n\nPC released a guttural, primal yell from deep within itself. Puffin out its chest, PC took to the air, first straight up into the cool wind that surrounded the lake, PC shifted it's weight, now gliding towards Box of Chocolates. \n\n\"Do not think you can win with cheap parlor tricks Chips!\" BC called out holding its ground. With Min-Bag gone, and Diet Soda leaking out near the cooler, what reason could you have to keep fighting?\" \n\nBC was confident but Chips has something on their side: gravity. Potato Chips prepared for impact. \n\n\"You don't stand a chance Chips! Sweet has been destroying Salty for decades. You know why Mrs.Fields has a place in every mall, while the pretzel places close? Or why we have Birthday CAKE rather than Birthday pop corn?\" Because Sweet wins! Sweet will ALWAYS win!\" \n\nBox of Chocolate began to laugh. That laugh that pierced through the bag of Chex Mix. But Potato Chips wasn't listening, having only a moment to brace itself before slamming into BC as hard as they could.\n\n\"Candy will always win!\" Box of Chocolate cried out. \n\nsmack\n\nPotato Chips was winded, they sat up to see box of Chocolates stumble around trying to maintain balance. But, it was a thin box!\n\nBox of Chocolates wavered and wobbled to the edge of the dock, desperately trying to right itself. \"But Candy always wins, CANDY ALWAYS WINS!\" BC fell off the dock into the awaiting water.\n\nPotato Chips sat up, lit a cigerette, and spoke softly aloud: \"Candy always wins huh? Tell that to the dentist.\" " ]	1
	[WP] Not all prisons are made of iron.	[ "The adventure started with a sunny day, a rare thing in the north. In fact, it was a clear blue sky. White fluffy clouds, the ones you use to describe a home made cookie, the sort that animations can only hope to imitate were in the sky. A crystal clear scene, the back drop absolutely phenomenal. \n\n\n\"Bangun!\" Turning around, he saw her. The flowing dress that waved in the light breeze, ruffles with red velvet strips and a white bandanna marked the Pearl of his sea. She flew into him, her arms wrapping around him tightly, her head clutching his chest for the warmth of family.\n\n\nHe looked up again. The sun was gone. \n\n\nThe clouds were gone. \n\n\nLooking down, Ruby had disappeared and the ground turned to ash. Darkness took him once more.\n\n---\n\nLaying on the cold wet asphalt, he coughed out a lungful of smoke, the bitter acrid smell of burning hair choking him down. A strong hand held his head slightly inclined, giving him the sight of a burning wreckage that was a 1998 Toyota Corolla. \n\n\nPointing at the car, he tried to find the strength from his lips, from his lungs to stop coughing and call out to her.\n\n\n\"She's gone sir. Dead on impact.\"\n\n\nHis mind snapped. ", "They never came back. It's been a week, a full fucking week. 168 hours, Sunday to Sunday. When the sun dips below the skyline and the moon illuminates the atmosphere you tell yourself tomorrow -- that's the day they'll return to camp. \n\nYour feeble fire looks as if it has finally burned out. The darkness didn't frighten you when your crew was there. Now every snap from a twig is an implication that your time on Earth may be coming to a halt. \n\nYou blow into the smoking twigs trying to rekindle a flame. You feel like a surgeon attempting to stop your patient's pulse from flatlining. Clear. Ember floats away into nothing. You want to go with it. You’ve been here by yourself for too long now.\n\nEveryone's fine, they're men of the sea, you halfheartedly reassure yourself. \n\nWhy do we as humans lie to ourselves in situations like this? It's our nature to dig for hope, even when there isn't any chance that hope exists. \n\nDid some beast on the island devour each and every one of your crew members? \n\nStop it. \n\nYou can hear the pops of flesh as fangs infiltrate their arms and legs. \n\n\"Stop it,\" you say out loud now to an empty base camp as nightfall's sheet of black continues to darken. \n\nYou walk away from the huts and the dying fire towards the tide. The sounds of an ocean’s currents breaking against a beach’s sand is one that generally calms people. To you it’s a reminder of the shipwreck, a ribbon tied to your index finger that won’t let you forget you’re trapped here, alone. \n\nIt’s hard to find solace in solitary confinement. \n\n", "I always heard them around me. The large doors slamming shut in the distance, the intercom voices I've grown so accustomed to, named, but never met. The sounds never stop here. the passage of time means nothing to them, or me.\n\nThe sound of door creaking nearby resonated inside my mind, inching its way into every crevice, destroying the silence I had been building in the depths. I could feel the presence there, familiar, it was her. My visitor, my connection to this sound filled world I was burrowing away from so furiously. Her breath was hot on my cheek, and her tear seared my lips as it fell onto them. \n\n\"Please forgive me. I'm so sorry, I wish I could take it all back, I wish it were me\" she whispered into my ear.\n\n I had heard this desperate plea thousands of times it seemed. She sat for an uncountable time after this, breathing softly but sniffling often. I felt her moving away and I tried to reach for her. Flexing my muscles, straining with all the might I could muster to grasp her arm and turn her to me, but to no avail.\n\t\nHer steps were harsh, different than normal, more hurried, cold, and shallow. She stopped moving and her voice projected back to me for a moment.\n\n \"Goodbye.\"\n\nMy mind panicked; in all of the times she had come to me, with every plea for mercy and forgiveness, she had never bid me farewell, not a single time. I struggled, fought to scream, to lunge, to move in some way and chase her, but I could not. The accident had taken everything else from me, and now it had taken her.\n\nI laid there in conscious coma. Alive, but dead to the world. I was always listening, but never acting. I knew the moment would eventually come, but had not prepared myself for it, I dreaded it, but accepted it. I felt my mind begin to unravel, retreating, digging back into my depths, to my paradise, to my silence.\n", "I am so lonely in here. I can not remember the last time I saw the light and goodness of this world. Everyday I grieve and scream to escape this nightmare but it echoes over and over. One day I will escape this existence, but today will not be that day. Nor tomorrow or the next day, I have no idea, but I have no options left. I am sick and tired of hearing my own voice. I am hungry for contact with others, but I am unable to connect with them. Maybe I'll take the one option I do have left. But I'm not sure I'm brave enough to act on it. No I can't. Could I? I miss freedom, and all it takes is one trigger pull. Maybe the other side is the existence I want. I should have never signed that dotted line. ", "Yes, I know the hope I hold is futile.\n\nIt will only hurt in the end; it will only tear me and her apart.\n\nBut I can't control it... and believe me, I've tried. I've broken too many times to count. \nSometimes I think it would be best for everyone if I could run away, detangle and detatch. I wouldn't cause anyone anymore pain. But I can't do that to her... because no matter how much I hurt her, she needs me to survive in this cruel, cold world. \n\nThe sickest part is that I can't steer her in the right direction. We always make the same mistakes, and I'm impulsive. I can't stop myself from going after what I want, and I accidentally destroy her in the process.\n\nSo here I am, beating frantically against her ribcage.", "Crowley, my warden, had a face that was one part scar tissue and other part shit-eating grin.\n\nHe opened the doors of my cell open with a mock bow and a flourish. I stared at the man incredulously before dragging my shackle-bound feet into my new home. As I was halfway across the threshold, Crowley slammed the door on me, causing me to plant my face in the cold concrete. My ears were ringing but the sadistic guffaw of the warden was unmistakable.\n\n'heh heh', Crowley finally recovered from his fit of laughter. 'Not all prisons are made of iron', he taunted.\n\nHe pointed to the lustrous, silver bars of the cell.\n\n'This baby right here', he gently ran his hands over my new confinement, 'is a titanium - neodymium alloy with a three-layer carbon fiber inter-mesh with a eighth inch thick outer casing of Kevlar.\n\nHe unceremoniously tossed in the old file that I used to cut the bars open from my old cell into my new cell.\n\n'You file your little heart out! Heh heh heh...'. The Warden walked away from the cell with this one final closing remark, his irritating yet distinct laughter echoing around my chamber and whirling in the nooks and crannies of the rough concrete. \n\n______________________________________________________________________________________\n\nWere you expecting something deep and psychological?", "\"History is a genocide\". \n\nThe overpass loud with the sound of overcast downpour. Cars speeding past, at what seem to be at night the speed of light. Some persistence of vision, sitting here once more, staring at grey slabs and contemplating eternity. \n\n\"There is an intolerance in god for man, just as there was an intolerance in angel for man\". \n\nThe wetness of the earth seeping through the cracks of the old construction, spilling in between the brake of weeds and erosion - time letting that which falls from the sky into the stone of the earth. \n\n\"Drenched is the earth once more\".\n\nThe intolerance of a man for hell, and that prison outside the garden, called earth. Some vile place of passions and wonderment, designed to get you lost. Someplace for wretched sinners, to prove they are above that which is material, something to retire in jealously and want once more for the divinity of spirit.\n\n\"But, you never talk back to me, you never hear me\". . . . \"DO YOU\"\n\nJack shook the baby doll. The words 'Jesus Christ' written on its forehead in sharpie. Jack was mad from the day he got back, but there is no way he was going to trust those VA doctors. . .\n\n\n\n\n", "Transmission 490173\n\nC/M Lt G Anderson\nShips Doctor\n\nSimulation -Begins- 1425501A\nVerifying DMI Pool Data///////////////Success\n\nElectroencephalography module 6\nSystem ' Green ''\n\nSynapse response; Positive\nOcular focus; Positive\nNerve electro; Positive -+1\nWARNING' High Sodium Levels Detected '' \nACK\nPBall; 0\nP Response; 0\nJ Response; 0\nS Response; 0\n\nNotes AZ\n\n---------\n\nSince the entity arrived onboard, communication with hosts remains unsuccessful. Production of pheromones has ceased as in all cases, with the exception of 490173. REM sleep seems a possibility, Alpha waves have been detected in three of the five experiments conducted, suggests onset of Coma however does not match with high EEG scans and levels of Sodium on the skin. Drip being changed six times daily due to fluid output of skin. \n\nHigh pulse rate in bursts aligned with the excessive sweat suggests patient is aware. Extensive neuropsychological testing, carried out with a communication aid system which exploited the patients residual eye movements, showed preserved cognitive abilities in spite of the long standing de-efferentation.\n\nFive words present, repetitive now for the three week monitoring period. SEE; ESCAPE; ESCAPE; DANGER; END. no changes to patient external status. \n\nIntention to review in two weeks time. Placed under secular care, Sodium increase authorised.\n", "\"What the... what the hell!?\" \n\nHe was lost. He remembered being blaming himself. \n\nHis mind went back to see his wife crossing the street, trying to chase him. They had just another petty fight over how to spend their money. He walked away from her as tears streamed down her face, she quickly went after him, that is when he heard the sound he would never forget. His wife's body being hit by a car. The sound was a bang, with bones cracking, and the screams. Right before the car hit her, she and some of the bystanders screamed, but he knew which scream was her's, that scream was permanently replaying in his brain. \n\nHe looked over to the other side of his bed, right where his wife used to sleep beside him, there was still no one there. Every night before he went to sleep, he wished that he would be able to fall asleep again as they used to, with his arms wrapped around her. Every morning, before he opened his eyes or before he looked towards her side fo the bed, he wished, even prayed, that she had come back during the night and joined him again. A normal husband would be furious at their wives if they had left without explanation, without a goodbye, but not him. He swore he wouldn't be mad or upset, he wouldn't care that she left, he just wanted his Lauren back. \n\nEvery day he followed the same routine, got out of bed, ate a measly breakfast, lazily brushed his teeth, went to his job (a member of the custodial staff at a high school, about 30 minutes from his house), came home, ate whatever was easiest to make for dinner, brushed his teeth one more time, and crawled into bed. He didn't have it in him anymore, he didn't want to enjoy life, he couldn't do it without his wife by his side. A quote that he thought about, one that he thought couldn't be more true, is one that goes something like \"behind every great man is a great woman\", and he knew he could never be or feel great again without his woman. \n\nSometimes, in his sleep, he would scream, maybe even cry. He would wake up with sweat all over his body. He heard, and kept hearing, the scream his wife had produced right before she was hit. He wished he could forget it, he didn't want his last memory of her voice to be her scream, but there was not way around it, he had heard it. \n\nFollowing his normal routine, he ate simple dinner, but then did something out of the ordinary for him. He was done. He couldn't live like that anymore. He was either going to bring his wife back, or go to her, and he knew the former wasn't possible. He went into his 1987 Mercedes-Benz sedan and drove to \"Brian's Booze\", the closest liquor store. He bought the cheapest, yet biggest, bottle he could find. He forced down a few sips, then started his car. Each sip he took was a struggle, he was never a drinker, but he wanted to escape from his pain. \n\n...\n\nSlowly waking up to the beeps of a machine next to him, he looks down and sees tubes attached to his arms and feels a tube going to his nose. His heart rate spikes as he tries to figure out where he is. He screamed. A nurse ran in, then went to get the surgeon. The surgeon told him that he had crashed his car and nearly died. The car crashed into a corner of a cement wall. \"The car was going so fast, that if you had made the car move one foot more to the left, you would have met your maker, this is truly a miracle\".\n\nThe man looked over to the windows on the other side of the room, the sun was glaring in, reflecting off of everything bright, shining into his eyes. He thought to himself, \"there really is no way out of this\".\n", "Day 100. One hundred days since I've seen my family, friends, and my dog, Lily. I think I miss her stupid, derp-eyed face the most. She's probably in the lap of luxury with my parents, getting to eat little bits of human food from time to time; Something I do not allow in my house. It's dog food or go to bed hungry.\n \nIt's been ninety-five days since I last had a cocktail. I think I still remember the bite of alcohol as it slid down my throat. In my old life I had a small alcohol addiction which is why I never had any long-term relationships. I always had two or three drinks before going to bed. When I washed ashore my sandy prison, I thought I would be able to find a smuggler's hatch like in Pirates of the Caribbean. I did find some kind of tubular growing in the underbrush and that kept me fed for a few weeks, but no alcohol. I went through a rough withdrawal, and I thought I would end up dying here. Dying here in this place where I'm always thirsty, always hungry, and can never escape. It's been seventy-three days since I last thought about alcohol.\n\nIt's been fifty-seven days since I last had a coconut. I always hated coconuts back in my old life. I shuddered at the very thought of putting anything coconut-flavored in my mouth. The first time I saw one here, I scurried over and cracked it open on a long piece of metal - I think it used to be part of the ship's siding, but I'm no expert. The sweet water that washed over my tongue might have been creme brulee. The first sip went down my throat before I realized it went in. I forced myself to savor the second sip, letting it sit and mingle with my taste buds, before I satisfied my parched throat. The coconuts lasted thirty-three days. Looking back, those were the best days of my life here.\n\nIt's been thirty-five days since I last felt angry. I remember I was trying to cut open a fish and I managed to slice my hand. The rage came fast and hard and I began screaming. I screamed so loud that a bird hidden in one of the few trees behind me took flight. I screamed for so long that my throat began to tear. I think I may have cried, but it could have been kickback from the water I was thrashing through along the shoreline leaving a trail of blood behind. I don't know how long I kept at it, but by the time I finished and returned to the fish it was rotten and revolting. I stared at it and felt all of my emotions leak out of me one-by-one. There was no point.\n\nIt's been a week since I last had fresh water. It hasn't rained in two weeks and I drank the last drop exactly six days ago. I stare at the sky and pray for rain. I was not the praying kind before I got here, but now it seems like the best idea I can think of. I sigh and take a bite of raw meat, cringing at the saltiness. I really need some water. I guess I should be happy I have something to eat.\n\n\"Not bad.\" I say to myself. I don't have anyone to talk to besides myself. You see, it's been two days since I last saw another human being. I wonder if I'll slowly lose my mind now. I take my knife and mark the 100th notch on a tree. I guess this is my new home. I chew through another bite and smile. \n\nIt's been a long time since I last felt happy.", "They all want to know what I've been doing for the past four years. Apparently, the big 4.00 isn't enough. The dual-degree isn't enough. They won't just settle for records and numbers; they want to know what I said, what I wrote, what kind of person I decided to pretend to be in college. And I don't want to tell them.\n\nWhy must they force me into a chain gang with my past selves? I'm no longer affiliated with the freshman who submitted an immature piece about bird noises to the school journal or the junior who could only squeeze ten out of the twenty required pages for his term paper. Just let me start anew. Well, let me take the few redeeming qualities I have to my name, but otherwise, give me a clean slate. Accept me for the professional upstart I purport to be. Ignore the trail of ashes in my wake.\n\nThere's a table at the end of the job application. \"List three references.\" I don't really want to bother the priest from my hometown and my Intro to Climatology professor, since I haven't actually spoken to them in four years. Can I just spare all parties involved the trouble and leave this part blank? Can't they just take a statement of character from my garbage man? He knows I put the plastics and the metals in the recycling bin and the greasy pizza boxes and chicken bones in the trash can, which is more than any of my undergraduate iterations can say for themselves. I end up putting down a now-defunct phone number for my last reference. It's only fair: if they want a review of my past self, then they can call the number that was in use at the time. \n\nMaybe eventually, I'll be able to start everything anew. It'd require destroying everything I spent the last four years and the eighteen before that building up. I'm well on my way: as of now, the bridges leading to and fro have all been burned. The hard part is escaping myself.", "Prison, not physical, but a mental prison that's what you could call it. \n\nI had been ripped away from my family, from my friends, purely because of my actions. Not behind a cage, I had what you could call freedom in a sense. My daily living still occurred, work, shopping, cooking, but nothing ever felt worth the time that was spent on the task. Two years, two long years of the situation being constant, it almost felt like I was in a perfect time-loop, with how rare events changed on a day to day basis.\n\nThe last week had been different though, a new woman had become employed in the work place. Sara was her name, and how I envied her, to me she had everything I thought I could desire. She was talking to co-workers constantly, making the others laugh, and would constantly invite people to go out for drinks after work. The attention Sara got from my coworkers, frustrated me, whether the attention was given because of her auburn hair, her green eyes, her athletic body or her personality, the fact was she made me jealous of the life she seemed to live, a life I wished was my own. \n\nToday was slightly odd though, although I guess she had noticed that I had not been going out with the coworkers after work to the bar, or any location she had chosen. She spoke to me, \"Aviella, why don't you come out with me tonight?\" she stated. I shrugged it off, but the thought worked as a seed in my head. That seed grew as the day went about, and nearing the end of the day Sara even offered a ride to me, to the club that she had invited our co-workers to, and a ride home following, swearing that she wouldn't drink and act as a designated driver for me. \n\nCautious, in my mind, wondering if this was some type of plot, or more shame for me to feel, more hazy, depressed than I was, I still accepted, and went with Sara to the club. \n\nWe arrived at the club around seven, rather early, but I guess it works. I spoke with the bartender and grabbed a drink for myself, and a few more for other coworkers. When I got back to the table though, the real adventure began. After I placed the drinks down, Sara asked for me to dance with her,which shocked and confused me. \n\nOverjoyed and enthusastic, I went on the floor and spent the night dancing with her, and the night ended with a kiss, between Sara and myself. I was embarrassed and delighted. Although the actions made me nervous, I complied. Nervousness lasting during the events, from when I had came out to my family, and to my community and many shunned me.\n\nThat night, I learned that one of my coworkers knew about the events that had transpired two years ago, and had been the one to discuss those events with Sara. My coworkers all supported us, in our intimate play at the end of the night, and for the first time in two years I was happy. \n\nI spoke to Sara as she was driving me home, \"Thanks for breaking me out of this cage.\"\n\n---------------------------------------\n\nPlease criticize. \n\n-----------------------------------------\n\nSome editing done, with advice given from /u/WriterWhoWrites ." ]	12
	[WP] King Arthur was prophesied to return during Britain's hour of need. It is the year 3XXX and that time is now.	[ "The ash still fell from the dark sky, settling lightly on the old black cobblestones. Even here in Wales the damage was significant. No one thought about the North Koreans as an enemy to the UK, until the bombs fell short if their real target in the US. There wasn't a North or South Korea any more. The launch had triggered the dead man switches in every nuclear power on Earth, and those arsenals had done a grim duty with precision and flawless engineering. His hand scraped at the remains of the old stone as he rested in front of it, searching for the mark, and hoping his duty was at an end. Furtive eyes danced and sought in vain. This was the last of the standing stones on the old road that had been known as Cadfahn's Way, and it had been his last hope. He had spent his friends to get here, one by one, leaving them behind, with only the mad words of his grandfather's grandfather ringing in his ears from the family book. He'd heard the story of the harp and the king until he was almost sick of hero's and legends.\n\n In the end, it had been his last hope to save his world...and it was just a tale. No king, no singing sword, and no magic that might bring back his family from the glowing pit that had been London. Just a cheap harp shaped trinket, and his death. He heard the dogs then, baying and yipping at the prospect of a warm meal. A tear welled up then, and spilled down his cheek, a betrayal of his stoic face. He faced the stone once more and did his duty one last time. \"Albion calls for aid in its darkest hour. I play the harp to wake the sleepers, and ask you for help!\". \n\nNothing, just as before. Only an echo, and the wind singing. The dogs close in as the echo returns from the other end of the valley, unafraid of the human voice. Albion...calls.\n\nHe felt the rain and it gave him pause. It hadn't rained since the bomb. The wind grew and snarled like one of the dogs that had him circled, chasing the rain and throwing it skyward. Water crashed down from the clouds, and over the storm, the echo rolled on to the other end of the valley before returning again. Albion...calls. A great crashing shout of thunder exploded over the valley, and lightning flashed to the ground. The dogs scattered as the lightning bolts ripped up the road, striking the old metal hoseshoes that were for tourist to follow in the footsteps of a fairy tale. This was the end. Killed by a freak storm, on a fool's errand, because his family had supposedly served a king. \"Well? Where are you then! You promised us, and God help us all, we believed you! Albion calls and...\" The lighting skipped his prone form, and smashed the stone shrine to powder, a blue outline in his vision all that remained. Then he heard it again, that damned echo, cutting through the roar of the storm and the ringing of his ear. Albion...calls.\n\nHe heard the crunch of gravel behind him. The storm continued to rage around him, but nothing was as loud as that single step, and the second following soon after, drawing closer. \"Albion calls...AND I HAVE ANSWERED!\"\n\nForgive my shitty formating, I'm on a cellphone at 3am.", "It was during a deep recession when that guy arrived, it was so weird honestly. Like, what was he expecting?\n\nI don't know what was going on, but it was during a time where things were so bad food and soup rations were a thing, I was standing on that line because I was starving, and then out of nowhere, that guy shows up wearing medieval royal clothes, some weird staff with a cross on one hand, a sword on another, and was just screaming bloody murder in a language we don't know, everyone looked at him weirdly, all, quite frankly, pretty annoyed as well, they were just trying to go through the day, grab the food and go home, yet that dumbass was rambling about for half an hour until the police showed up.\n\n\"Oi! That man's holding a real sword!\" said a cop\n\n\"It's illegal to bear arms here, sir.\" said another cop, while making everything ready for arrest.\n\n\"That man's mental, what is he doing in a time like this?\" said that same cop, before clicking the handcuff button\n\nThe handcuff button is pretty nifty for the police, instead of forcefully holding a man and handcuff them like they did in the past 1000 years, you can hold this device in front of the man committing the crime, make the device analyze the human, click on the handcuff button, and bam, they're handcuffed. It's a brilliant piece of technology.\n\nNow that the recession's over, food rations stopped becoming a thing, it had been going around the city that that man's in a mental hospital, he says his name is 'Arthur', 'Arthur Pendragon' to be precise, according to the doctors the man was very mentally unstable, believing he was a prophesied King to save this country in the hour of need, surprisingly though his name was not recorded anywhere in the world, so he was given refugee status.\n\nOh well, time to go to work I guess, those machines won't command themselves.", "Martha Johnson sat down with a tired sigh. All around her was chaos and noise. The sounds of bombs in the distance, the cries and moans of the injured and dying, the sirens, and the whining of drones and planes overhead. Always, this constant cacophony of noises. Never a quiet moment at the West London Regional Hospital. Not with the war in full swing.\n\nIt had been 1000 years exactly since The Great Dictator had been voted into office across the pond. 3016 was shaping up to be just like the rest. Full of violence and hate. 1000 years. \n\nSpeaking of which, The Great Dictator’s great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandson was on tv now. They had all taken the name \"The Great Dictator\" to follow in their predecessor's foot steps. \n\n“We will make this country great again. This and every country. It was my father’s promise. And his father’s before him. My grandfather was elected into office by the greatest citizens in the world! And now that everyone is back in the countries that they belong in, and we’ve relocated the original natives of this country to islands off the coasts, our great and prosperous nation can thrive again! The war is an illusion. There is no need for shelters and panic. I ask you, the people of this great nation, to trust in me. My grandfather would be proud of us this day. He would be proud of the world. He loved organization. He loved everything in its place. Everyone in their place. This is my place. Have you found yours?”\n\nMartha’s eyebrows bunched in sadness. Just hate. So many lives lost for what? Money, greedy, one sociopath’s ideals about race and gender and equality. Now the world was suffering. Including the UK. Many of the world’s leaders had tried to stand up to many of the The Great Dictator. None had succeeded. And now, so much time had passed, it seemed hopeless. \n\nThe monarchy had dissolved when King William and Princess Kate had been assassinated in their car on the way back from a movie. That had been almost 970 years ago. What was left of the palace and parliament was housing vagrants and gangs. Martha guessed that’s what happened when another country bombed your government buildings. Rubble. Most of Britain was rubble now. A few hospitals, like the one Martha worked at, remained intact for the most part. Others had not been so lucky. Martha snorted and rubbed her head with her ungloved hands. Luck. \n\nShe looked down at her scrubs, blue as the sea, splotched with deep reddish black blood. The sea during war. The stains would dissolve and the smell would vanish, all traces of disease and bacteria, sterilized by the Nano technology in the cloth itself. Same with her mask that now hung around her throat. Her gloves were disposable. \n\nMartha scratched her neck at the base of her brunette ponytail and rubbed her tired green eyes. Her shift for the day was done. Now what? Martha lived in the hospital. She had since birth. She learned in the hospital, everything that she needed to know in order to be a well-educated human being, but then, in high school, they started to steer her more towards medical studies. She was bred to be in the medical field. Before she was even conceived. She had her choice of what she wanted to do in the medical field. And she had chosen an ER nurse. Rigorous testing, endless exams, and the thankless job of holding other’s lives in your hand. But Martha loved it. She would always love it. It was what she was bred for. Literally. Everything in her genetic makeup was decided before she was even conceived. The only thing the doctors left up to her mother and father were her features. They said that they had wanted a child who looked like them. The doctors has smiled and said that it was so sweet. Most people bred their offspring to be almost perfect in appearance. But her parents wanted her to be part of them. Their CHILD. \n\nAll other aspects of her physiology were designed to be in the medical field. Fast reflexes, acute hearing, low olfactory receptors, steady hands, above average eyesight, high emotional tolerance, and the list went on. \n\nOnce a person arrived at the hospital, mortality rates were low. But in this war, not many reached an ambulance, let alone a hospital in time. \n\nOne of the other nurses in the waiting room turned the TV down, muttering in disgust about racism and hate. \n\nMartha stood and clocked out. Home to her small flat. Empty and void of almost any and all personal touches. She didn’t spend much time in there anyway. She changed out of her scrubs, simply hanging them back in the closet next to her other sets that she rarely used. She liked the dark blue the best. And changed into jeans and a t-shirt. Simple, comfortable, practical. A vintage pair of converse were her only unique clothing item. They had somehow survived long enough for her to wear them every day. She cherished them. \n\nMartha sighed again as a new round of bombs were dropped over the city. She needed away from this noise. \n\nThe library. \n\nMartha booked it through the halls of the hospital’s living quarters until she found a little nook with a wooden door and a brass knob. A little hand painted sign on the door read, “Open, Please Come In”. Martha opened the door and shut it quietly behind her. The noises vanished. The only sound Martha could hear was the small whirring of the air conditioning and her own breathing. \n\nPeace.\n\nMartha let herself lean back against the door and revel in the silence. \n\n“Hello.” Martha gasped and jumped. The man’s voice had startled her in the intense quiet. \n\n“Hello.” Martha brushed loose stands of hair out of her face and looked up at the man. She was shocked to find someone like him in the library. Was he just visiting like she was? He must have been. Librarians were not bred with large, muscular bodies and sharp, keen eyes. He had to be a soldier. Why had he even noticed her? Most didn’t. Not because of anything to do with her, but simply because most were so busy. It was wartime, wat was a soldier doing in a library? \n\n“Can I help you find something?” The man smiled and asked. Martha’s brows knit with confusion. \n\n“Um… no. I just came in here for some… quiet. Peace and quiet. I’ll just find a spot for myself.“ She scooted past the large man, and he stepped aside and watched her retreat into a corner with a large oversize chair and a coffee and tea maker. He watched with sharp, intelligent eyes as she made a cup of herbal tea for herself and curled into he sea foam green oversized armchair, her vintage sneakers tuckers under her body. \n\nMartha glanced over at the man who was watching her intently and then tried to ignore him. It was hard, but after a few sips of her tea, she managed it. It was no business of hers what a man like that was doing in a peaceful library. It didn’t matter. \n\n“Can I join you?” Martha gasped and started a little in her chair. He had moved silently. She had almost forgotten that he was here. \n\n“Yes, I supposed. Am I allowed to just sit here?” Martha asked through the steam of her mug. \n\n“Oh yes, I encourage it. You’ve been the first visitor in months. What’s your name?” The man sat on the coffee table across from her. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his own steaming mug grasped in his hands. Large brown eyes connected with her green ones. He looked familiar. \n\n“Martha. My name is Martha. Yours?” Martha quirked any eyebrow at him. \n\n“Arthur.” That name didn’t fit this man. She expected him to be an Ajax or an Achilles, or an Alexander. Soldiers were normally named in the ancient Greek and Roman fashion, whereas nursed and doctors were named in the old Puritan fashion, like Martha. \n\n(Cont. in comments below)\n" ]	3
	[WP] The year is 3031. Your name is Haiku from the planet of Limerick – the last hospitable planet. It is a beautiful planet with people who care deeply for it. Settlers from Earth arrive with open arms. Tell us your story...using only your native language structure consisting of haiku and limericks	[ "Dear brothers and sisters I've brought you, \nSome strangers who searched and who sought you, \nPlease open your arms, \nTurn off the alarms, \nFor the brothers and sisters I've brought you. \n\nFor in life you see, \nThe weary traveler has not, \nBut one trust to give \n\nAnd give it we must, \nIf we hope to have some peace, \nWith these, the humans. \n\nI don't know how they can speak their language, \nWithout putting their tongues in a bandage, \nFor rhyme they do not, \nTheir skill is quite sought, \nFor without them we all surely will languish.\n\nSo open your arms, \nOur world has seen the worst now. \nAnd the dawn has come. \n\nI know you don't trust. \nThese strangers are very odd. \nBut they need our help. \n\nDear brothers and sisters they need us, \nLook how their bodies scream, \"feed us!\" \nSo please gather around, \nAnd spare us a pound, \nOf your food so we can make a new us. ", "* They seem so peaceful,\n\nThey greet me with open arms.\n\nBut we didn't know.\n\n\n* I wish I could speak,\n\nMy language is contstraining.\n\nSo much to be told.\n\n\n* But it was futile,\n\nWith hydrogen bombs and guns\n\nOur kind turned to dust.\n\nEdit: Formatting on mobile sucks. It's three haikus in case that doesn't make sense." ]	2
	[WP] It's the year 3340 and humanity has colonized the entire galaxy. We now ship Earth's waste to planet 3T5AW using designated spacecraft. You are a newly recruited garbage man tasked with flying these ships to 3T5AW, you are just about to enter the planet's atmosphere for the very first time.	[ "I've got a big one for this, I'll have to post it in pieces. Here's the first piece. There's several more.\n\nedit: This one is called \"Angel of Mercy\". You can read the whole thing [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1wl92ZEBVZKGToxXRvdvzBFTGUDpvOloc7MLNdRNGBY0/edit?usp=sharing)\n\n--------\n\n“Alright, kid, take us out of hyperspace”, Tom said. “Aye-aye,” replied Jerry, his young co-pilot. Tom watched with approval as Jerry reached up and adjusted the internal gravity dampers before slowly drawing back on the hyperdrive power feed, while at the same time shifting power away from the hyperdrive and back towards the impulse engines and engaging the rear impulse drive. The ship exited hyperspace with a jolt, the trademark of a recently graduated pilot.\n\n Jerry grimaced as he and Tom jerked forward in their seats. “... Sorry …”\n\nTom just laughed. “My first time out of hyperspace, I forgot to fully adjust the dampers; our gravity was still set way too low, still set for the G-forces of hyperspace, so there was basically nothing keeping us in our seats. Gave the flight engineer a concussion, made the captain’s coffee go flying all over the bridge.” Tom adjusted his harness and shifted slightly in his seat. “All in all, I’d say that’s a damn fine first time.”\n\nJerry had just been granted his hyperdrive operator’s license, and was thrilled to have this commission aboard the EFS (Earth Fleet Ship) Buckfast. The “Buck Nasty”, as its captain Tom called it, was a transport ship; it had 10 separate holds, 2 heavy duty impulse engines (front and rear), and one commercial-grade hyperdrive. It wasn’t much to look at, and it wasn’t exactly the most up-to-date ship out there, but it was a real space ship with a real hyperdrive. And here was Jerry, a real certified hyperspace pilot, just like he’d always dreamed since he was a kid.\n\nJerry and Tom had left Earth almost 5 weeks ago with their cargo, bound for 3T5AW, a planet roughly the size of Jupiter. It had incredibly high gravity, such that anything placed on the surface of the planet would compact and eventually liquify or powder itself with surprising rapidity (in relative terms, at least). It was dangerous to be around, utterly uninhabitable for humans, and far away from any habitable planet of even remote importance or value. For this reason, it was the perfect place to take the Buck Nasty’s cargo of choice: Several hundred thousand tons of garbage generated on Earth and the other human federation planets.\n\nOkay, so maybe it wasn’t EVERYTHING Jerry had dreamed of, given the cargo of trash. He’d dreamed of flying hyperspace capable fighters in the EDF (Earth Defense Fleet), but he was unable to pass the harsh battery of tests for hyperspace dogfighting. But that wasn’t distracting Jerry as he focused on the instrument control panel for the frigate he now found himself assigned to. The Buck Nasty wasn’t a fighter, it wasn’t armed, and it’s wasn’t likely to earn Jerry any awards for heroism any time soon - but by God, he was on it, and he was seeing all these stars himself this time. It beat the hell out of being stuck on the ground in some colony, back planetside.\n\nTom flipped some switches on the navigation panel, and spoke out loud to the ship’s on board computer. “Computer, contact all planetside automated delivery locations, and find us a location to dump our cargo.”\n\n“We’re not actually landing, are we? I heard the surface is too hostile”, Jerry inquired.\n\n“The ship won’t actually be able to find us a place to land, but there are several automated airdrop points on the planet’s surface,” Tom said as he took a long slurp from a thermos near him. “We’ll get one set for us, and then we’ll airdrop the payload at the designated location as we’re just below the atmosphere. Any further and the planet will grab ahold of us and crush us like a tin can.” Tom moved a magazine off of the instrument panel, folded it up, and put it away. “It’s not hyperspace fighter bombing runs, but hey, it’s a living.”\n\nJerry chuckled. “I guess you heard about my dashed military ambitions too, huh?”. He had tried for years to get into the military, qualifying for basically every job except hyperspace pilot. It just never worked out.\n\n“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’m not gonna bust your chops about it. Personally I have little use for military types”, Tom said, leaning his chair back and putting his feet on the instrument panel briefly. “Always taking too many risks, too many chances. I’m not a risky guy, I like to go home at night.” Tom considered lighting up the cigar in his pocket, but figured it should wait until after the airdrop was complete. “Getting blown up is no way to live a long, prosperous life.”\n\nJerry nodded his head in agreement, though it was obvious he was not fully onboard with Tom’s line of thinking. “Well, my only ambition right now is to get my wings and get a ship of my own”, Jerry said, as he began reviewing pre-entry checklists from an operations manual. “In the meantime, I’m gonna take in all these stars and enjoy the solitude.”\n\nTom laughed. “Good, because solitude’s about all you get out here. We left Theta Centauri, what, five weeks ago? Even at hyperdrive speeds, this garbage dump is way out here. But hey, when we get back, the pay is pretty good and we only make three to four runs a year, so you can take plenty of time for yourself back at home.” \n\n“What do you do when you’re not hauling?”, Jerry inquired. Tom was the kind of guy who wore overalls and work gloves everywhere; Jerry had a hard time believing Tom did much in his downtime aside from living onboard the ship. \n\n“Oh, you know, this and that,” Tom replied. “Hang out at home, mostly.”\n\n“You’re a fully qualified pilot, though, you’ve got your wings - surely there’s gotta be perks that come along with that to occupy your time”, Jerry said again, regretting that fifth Salami sandwich he had gotten from the ship’s repliraunt - the name he had given to the 2-seated table underneath the food replicator.\n\n“Oh, sure, things get better as a full wings pilot. But not THAT much better”, Tom said, looking his co-pilot up and down. Clean shaven, short trimmed hair, bright eyed and physically fit. Jerry reminded Tom of himself 20 years ago, before a myriad of bad dietary and life choices left him with a beer belly, a permanent five-o-clock shadow, a dearth of hair (hid underneath an “Intergalactic Kenworth Deere” hat), and a generally jaded disposition. “Honestly the biggest benefit is that they give you someone to boss around”, he joked.\n\nJerry chuckled at the joke, and put down the operations manual. He figured there must be some perks - at least better pay, or investment options - because Tom had spent a few hours a week ago talking about the vacation home he just got picked out on J25RZ, that planet with all the islands and all the girls that treated human men like walking aphrodisiacs. You certainly aren’t getting that on a garbage co-pilot’s salary.\n\nJerry reached over for the controls to the trajectory computer, and noticed a photograph that had been stuck underneath the lighted bezel of one of the instrument gauges. It hadn’t been there for the five previous weeks, but it had made an appearance today. Jerry paused and went to pull it out, but then thought better of it. The picture was of a little girl; maybe 6 years old. Golden blonde hair, light brown skin, bright sparkly blue eyes. “Yours?”, Jerry said with a smile, indicating towards the picture.\n\nTom glanced down from the heads-up-display that was currently occupying his attention. “Yeah, she” - he hesitated for a second - “that’s my daughter.” He smiled, although it seemed to waver for a second.\n\n“How old is she?”, Jerry asked.\n\nTom briefly ran his gloved finger over the picture, seemingly lost for a moment. “12 … 12 years old, 3 months ago”, he said quietly, his voice and mind clearly trailing somewhere else. Jerry thought about further questioning, but decided against it.\n\n“Auto-net confirms EFS Buckfast to proceed to Airdrop point 23x 49y, approach and entry angle velocity incoming from airdrop intelligence - please standby”, the computer voice spoke aloud over the ship’s internal intercom.\n\nTom unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up. “Take over with the entry computer, will you”, he said. “I have to go hit the head. The buck nasty rattles like an old railcart on entry, and it always gives me the shits. I figure I’ll get ahead of it.” Tom did not wait for a response as his large, overall-clad frame lumbered out of the flight deck.\n\n-- Part 2 follows --" ]	1
This is a repost of https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4h7icc/wp_germany_1909_all_your_life_strangers_have_been/ by Nerrolken with the main point of the prompt spelled out.	[WP] Germany, 1909. All your life, strangers have been trying to murder you. Finally, one confesses why: they're trying to stop Adolph Hitler from causing WW2. The only problem: your name is Adolph Hilter. Not Hitler, HILTER.	[ "All my life people have tried to kill me. It all stopped 1916. I got some condolence cards informing me that a certain Adolf Hitler died in the trenches. I never knew the guy but I was sure happy the attempts on my life ended. On the positive side this turned me into a hard to kill son of a bitch with a deep dislike for people, though. I decided to go into politics because I was a born manipulator. I have a great vision for Germany. All I will say at this point is that it might involve a major war and the Jews won't be too happy about it. But do you know what is ironic? Some sod made a printing error on the signs for my first huge public rally. He misspelled my name as Hitler - you know, like the guy who died in 1916. But wtf I'm not shelling out more Deutschmark to correct this little mistake. ", "\"Yeah, we know,\" the asshole said, as he lay bleeding on the floor before me. He'd been fast, but I'd been faster. A lifetime of people trying to kill you tends to have that effect.\n\nI blinked. \"You know I'm not the guy you're looking for.\"\n\n\"Yeah, of course.\"\n\n\"So why the hell do you keep trying to kill me?!\"\n\n\"It's like this, okay...\" The asshole seemed unreasonably cogent for someone with a nine-millimeter bullet in his side. Probably had a metal liver or some other kind of damned future magic healing him up as we spoke. Goddamn time travelers, I tell you. \"We've been at this for a while. Tracking down Hitler and putting a bullet in his head -- that was easy. That happened... well... it was five or six years ago for me, but for you...\" He shrugged.\n\n\"The problem is, history doesn't like to change, you know? It's called temporal inertia. We killed Hitler. So then Himmler took his place in the timeline. Which I guess was reasonable, you know? Kill one crazy Nazi, another one winds up in his place...\"\n\n\"Sorry, who?\"\n\n\"Exactly. We mowed him down too. Easy.\" The future man took a breath. \"Then, next thing we know, it's Adolphus Hister who takes over Germany and wipes out countless millions of lives. Then, after him, it was Arnolt Hiedler. Then Albrecht Heilman. And so on.\"\n\n\"So... history likes last names starting with H?\"\n\n\"Not so much likes as... well, yeah.\" The asshole shrugged. \"For some reason, history insists that someone with the initials A.H. will always wind up taking over Germany and committing genocide. So the higher-ups keep broadening our scope. Anyone in Germany, Austria and Switzerland with those initials is considered a target. You just happen to be caught in the crossfire.\"\n\nI narrowed my eyes. \"So to stop a genocide... you're basically committing one?\"\n\n\"Irony's not lost on us, yeah.\" He shifted his eyes. \"Look, if it's any consolation, it's only a matter of time before the higher-ups throw in the towel and reset this whole mess back to the way it was. Even if you die, chances are you'll wake up any day now without any clue about time travel or anything.\"\n\n\"And what the hell am I supposed to do in the meantime?!\"\n\nHe shrugged again.\n\nI put another bullet in the asshole's head and went for the door. \"Oh, come on! That still hurts, you know!\" he called after me indignantly as I walked back onto the streets.", "There is a man. I see him there, standing in the window of the building opposite. Tall, slim, I think. Dark hair, darker eyes, though the glare on the window he hides behind makes it difficult. Standing there again, for the third day. I take out the scuffed note book from inside my jacket and flick through the pages. Descriptions in my own neat hand, lists of dates, rows of small and cautious lines. I count my tally with care. Yes, the third day. \n\nHiding behind that glare, this one is cautious. The cautious ones are the dangerous ones, take it from someone that knows. Some, some are brazen, rushing and yelling, waving knives or guns or both. Once a spoon; that one wasn’t expecting me. A slow one, giving herself away on the tram by the quick adjustment of her slack jaw and gormless watching. Two days to make sure, and then on the third I followed her home. A greasy little flat in the equally greasy part of Vienna. I drowned her in her soup before she could scoop out my eyeballs and use them as condiments. A lucky story, but for another time; this one has moved from the window.\n\nNo, this one is cautious, he will not be so easy. They move about me like ghosts, these ones, if ghosts can come from the future. I begin to suspect they can. All sorts I get, and some with the weirdest hair, and the rest a collage of accents and faces. But no matter how different they may be their aim never varies. A knife in the gut in a dark ally, a bullet to the brain, the wire wrapping tight and sharp into the soft flesh of my neck. I bear their scars, some, the lucky few that got me before I learnt better. Now I don’t give them the chance. I keep my head down, I move softly, I act swiftly. \n\nVienna is a good city for me. Lost in the crowd I become a face amongst faces, a fleck amongst flecks. I am a fleck now as I push myself through the seething people fighting their way home, but I as I press on I resist the smile that curls the edge of my mouth. This will be the one, I think, today will be the day. I know he is there, hiding behind the glare of the sweaty faces, I feel his eyes on my back, his knife trembling over my head. It shall not be, I think.\n\nSuddenly I burst free of the crowd, ducking and running down a side ally in a swirl of dust and rubbish, with my case tight under one arm. A hurried set of footsteps follows and I allow a grin to flicker across my face. Around another corner and I crouch, slipping the blade from the sheath on my calf, waiting with my heart in my ears and the grin still flickering. But before he reaches me the footsteps slow, too cautious by far. The grin morphs to a snarl. I bait my breath.\n\n“Hallo? Herr Hitler?”\n\nWhat? No, that is wrong. I almost laugh at the mistake. Almost. His accent is good, I think, pure German. But mistakes are unforgivable.\n\n“Kann ich mit Ihnen sprechen? Über Ihre Malerei?“\n\nI have to catch myself. He knows too much. The paintings are my greatest and most open secret. They are the mask I wear, the shield I carry. No job has been as safe for me as painting, where I might hide and watch and move on in an instant. My mind rages, how can he know, how can he know. I grip the knife and lunge around the corner.\n\nHe is stood in the middle of the ally when I charge, and his image is frozen in my mind. Standing strong he levels a small revolver at my head and fires. Thankfully he is a terrible shot. I barrel into him, gripping behind the knees and with a small satisfaction feel the familiar twang of the knife against ligament. Then we are on the ground and here is where the real fun begins. A real fight, imbued with that savage thrill, the struggle for survival. This one is scrappy for all his caution. I am almost disappointed, and as I pin him down and spit the grit from my teeth and slide the blade slowly into his side I tell him so.\n\n“You are a cautious man and you speak well, but you are sloppy and that I cannot abide.” I give the hilt a little pat as I sigh. A yelp is a pathetic sound, I think. “It is all in the killing, that’s what I say.” I show him my teeth as he shows me the whites of his ever widening eyes. “How do you know me?”\n\nI see confusion amongst the pain, how odd. And then a laugh, quiet and shivering with pain but a laugh nonetheless. “Know you? How could I not know you,” pinned to the ground with a knife snug in his guts he somehow draws himself up and spits in my face. The dark eyes flash under their dark hair, “You are Adolf Hitler, murderer of millions, scum of the earth. In 1933 you will be elected to German chancellor and in 1939 you will cause the worst war the world has ever seen. May your bones rot in the hell they crawled from.”\n\nI admit when I set out to discover the reasons of my life’s corruptions that was not the answer I was expecting. Perhaps in my madness I hoped to find some centre of sanity. What a paranoid fool I am. With relish I pull the knife from his side and watch the droplets of blood twist dull red through the dusty light. They fall soft and warm on my face.\n\n“How intriguing,” I wipe the blood from my eyes, “How very intriguing. The name is annoying, but not too unreasonable, I suppose. Certainly it is liveable, I don’t see why not.”\n\nThe man’s face pales, although that might have just been the bleeding. Something was dawning. “You don’t mean…”\n\n“Well, I would hate to disappoint,” and I plunged the knife deep into his neck to reiterate the point. Not the messiest, I don’t think, but certainly not the cleanest. Bodies do bleed awfully, I must find some way better. And there is so much to do, so much to think about doing. The sheet has been pulled back and the ghosts are gone, the cogs are turning, I think. New ambitions stir. Names must be changed. Adolf Hitler. The mistake is amusing, but it has a ring to it.\n", "\"Checkmate.\"\n\n\"Ah, fuck you, you rotten fuckin' stroganoff,\" cursed the younger man. With an angry swipe of his hand across the chessboard, he knocked the remaining pieces clean off the table. \n\n\"I quite enjoy our little chess games, Adolph.\"\n\n\"Eh.. I suppose there is worse company than you, Vladanir,\" replied Adolph. They shook hands briefly before Vladanir Lennin poured them both cups of tea. \n\n\"How did it go with your last appointment at the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna?\" asked Lennin as he took a sip from his cup.\n\n\"Those fucking Jew-lovers,\" mumbled Hilter. \"They said I was unfit for painting. What the fuck does that even mean? Art is subjective. It is in the eye of beholder.\"\n\n\"Relax, Adolph. Perhaps they just mean that your talents are more suited to something else like sculpting. Have you tried working a piece of marble? You might surprise yourself.\"\n\n\"Fuck Vienna. And fuck sculpting,\" said Hilter. He crossed his arms and slumped down deeper into his chair. Although he always wore a grumpy face, he appeared bitchier than usual. Casually, he glanced at his wristwatch. \"Just under a minute to go.\"\n\n\"It's always a Saturday at noon, isn't it,\" said Lennin curiously as he gulped down the remainder of his tea.\n\n\"Yep,\" stated Hilter. He stood up and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. \"Alright, ol' man. It's time.\" Lennin stood up as well while smoothening the creases in his jacket. No sooner had he stood up when the door into the bedroom came crashing down and in stormed three strangers dressed in black leather suits. Blackened helmets covered their faces, but from their physiques, Hilter deduced that there were 2 men and 1 woman.\n\n\"Herr Adolf Hitler. For crimes against humanity that you have yet to commit, you are being terminated,\" said the woman calmly. \n\n\"Bitches can't even pronounce Hilter correctly. How fucking irksome,\" muttered Adolph Hilter as he watched his companion reach for something by his side.\n\n\"Authority is granted by the International Council of Timecrimes,\" one of the men added. \"You have the r-\" The man couldn't finish his sentence because his throat had just been sliced by Lennin's shashka. The sabre dripped with blood as one of the three intruders fell to the ground dead. The remaining man immediately countered by pulling out a small, pistol-shaped device that fired a thin, blue laser beam. Lennin ducked just in time. The beam missed his head by a hair's width. \n\n\"Return from whence you came!\" shouted Hilter as he charged towards the male attacker. As he lunged, he reached behind his back and drew a large weapon that he had concealed in a scabbard behind his back. Before the stranger could recharge the laser pistol, Hilter's Zweihänder chopped the man's body in half at the torso and the two pieces plopped on the floor in a pool of dark blood.\n\nThe woman drew out two laser pistols, one aimed at each of Lennin and Hilter. She fired both of them simultaneously. But because her concentration was split, Hilter and Lennin easily dodged the laser beams and cornered her. She tried to make a dash for the exit, but tripped backwards when her foot caught on a piece of splintered wood from the remains of the door they had busted. Hilter and Lennin casually strode over to her and looked down at her.\n\n\"Since I was a boy, you people have been trying to assassinate me,\" said Hilter. He spat on the woman's helmet. \"Why? WHY? Hell, maybe this is why I can't get into fuckin' art school. It's because when I should be practicing my technique, I'm being attacked by future assassins. I spend more of my time practicing the art of war rather than the art of painting.\"\n\nAs Hilter rambled, Lennin crouched down next to the woman and began patting her down. He was checking not only for any other concealed weaponry, but also for any devices that would allow the travel through space-time. Lennin had not only trained Hilter secretly in the art of combat, but he had also fought side by side with the young German on numerous occasions against the time-travellers. Together they had felled many enemies, but never had they ever come across the technology that actually allowed them to traverse space-time. Hilter suspected that the device that allowed time travel was merely a gate or portal that was permanently fixed. That would mean that the travellers had no way to return to the future. A suicide mission. \n\n\"Where is your time machine?\" demanded Lennin. \"I grow impatient.\" He held the shashka up to the woman's throat.\n\n\"Go to hell,\" she said. Just before the Russian was about to decapitate the lady, Hilter put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.\n\n\"The helmet,\" he whispered to Lennin. Lennin nodded and used his sabre to forcefully remove the black helmet from the woman's head. The woman's face was unremarkable. She had short brown hair, dark brown eyes and an otherwise plain face. She had a scowl on her face. Lennin used the butt of his shaska to give her a strong whack in the head, knocking her out temporarily. Hilter bent to pick up the helmet and slipped it on his head.\n\nAs soon as the helmet slid comfortable over his head, a screen lit up on the interior surface of the mask. Although Hilter didn't know it at the time, what he was seeing was a heads-up display. To the right of his vision were a bunch of numbers and symbols that meant nothing to him. But on the bottom left of the HUD it read 1 May 1909. \n\n\"Mein Gott! Lennin! I think we have found the time travel device,\" exclaimed Hilter as he swayed his head from side to side, trying to find a way to access and control the device.\n\n\"Can you find a way to activate it?\" asked Lennin as he inched closer to Hilter. \"Careful now.\"\n\n\"How do I work this damned contraption...\" mumbled Hilter as he tapped the outside of the helmet and banged it in different places.\n\n\"Hey, Adolph! Don't hit it like that! You'll break the damn thing,\" said Lennin. He reached out to swat Hilter's hands away from the helmet. Just as Lennin's fingers touched Hilter's hand, there was a faint yet audible beeping sound. Lennin and Hilter were suddenly blinded by a bright flash of light and suddenly the bedroom was empty, save for the three motionless bodies lying in a puddle of blood.\n\n---\n\nTo be continued." ]	4
	[WP] "Do not go to sleep. That is where it lives. You should be able to sleep in three days or so. I'm going to kill it."	[ "\"I walked through the darkened woods. Soft moss and dead leaves softened my foot fall. There was a light peering between the willows, dancing around like someone was carrying it. I got closer and it turned to me, the creature. I hadn't in all my days seen such a grotesque being, so much a dark caricature of a man. I tried to run but couldn't, it came closer to me and I screamed as loud as I could. No sound came, he was about to get me when you woke me.\" The woman curled into the fetal position, burying her face to her bosom. She mentioned willows, which had me hopeful; not vary many places here have them.\n\n\"Did this forest of willows seem familiar?\" I inquire, squatting down beside her.\n\n\"I can't help but think it was in the Jäger's Wood. My father took me there when I was young. He hadn't any sons, needed me to hunt with him.\" She retreats further into her own arms. I stand and grab my blunderbus. The evidence points to a mare. Real enough as beasts go, but they latch onto their victims, often driving them to suicide with visions of horrors. Looks like I need to head to the Jäger's Wood and investigate further.\n\n\"Don't go to sleep.\" I warn. \"It lives in your dreams, in three days you should be able to sleep. I will kill it.\"\n\n------------------------------------------------------\n\nAfter the two days ride I came to the wood, the fresh rain makes the air humid, almost dense. I dismount my horse and start into the trees. The hanging branches blanket my view, making it neigh impossible to navigate standing perfectly upright. I walk almost a half mile crouched until I come to a break in the tree line. There is a large fairy circle in the centre, with a black stone in the centre. The carvings give away that this is where our dæmon has been. I see some brush move to my left and spin, raising my weapon to my shoulder setting my sights to the woman in front of me.\n\n\"Lilith.\" The name escapes my mouth as I cock the hammer back. Her beauty might have fooled less expirienced Ballerophron, but I've seen minions of the Queen of Succubi before; and dispatched all, no matter how beautiful the disguise. \n\n\"I've expected someone would wander here, I've been hoping for the girl though\" She smirks. I take a sturdier shooting position without saying a word. \"Aren't you wondering why I need her?\" Her patience is short it seems \"Why I go through the trouble of tormenting her, trying to drive her here. Don't you want to kno-\" her last word is cut short by the blast of rock salt and silver shards. Caught her monologing.\n\nThe body changes as she dies, the cloak she was in turns to leather wings, her face sinks in becoming dark and vile. I burn the remains and sing the sirens song backwards so that she is banished to hell once more.", "\"Listen. Do not go to sleep. That is where it is. Give me about three days, I know that will be hard for you, but try to stay awake! Make sure that Mommy does too!\" I turned toward the door and wrenched it open with more force than I meant to.\n\n\n\"But daddy...where are you going?\" The beautiful little girl rubbed sleep from her eyes, sitting up on the bed where my wife wrapped her in her arms. \n\nI froze in my tracks. \"I'm going to kill it.\" \n\n\n**\n\nI didn't go far, of course. Why should I, when it was right there beside me wherever I went? A quick stop by the bathroom for a few sleeping pills was the only detour I needed. Then it was to the master bedroom. I would need somewhere comfortable after all, if I was going to be out for half as long as I thought I would. \n\n\n\"Down the hatch.\" I threw back my head, swallowing three or four of the little white capsules without water. Then all I needed to do...was wait. \n\n\nIt was agony. Images of my family ran through my head like a video set of fast forward. What if I didn't make it in time? What if it got here first? \n\n\n\"Faster, faster...no!\"\n\n\nI shook myself mentally. No point in worrying about what might happen. Just gotta do what can be done and hope for the best. \n\nI concentrated through my mounting panic. Easy...easy.* I thought. I could feel the medicine kicking in, forcing my eyelids to droop despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. In my mind, I held the image of a place that had often appeared behind my eyes unbidden in the past: The Island of Lost Dreams. \n\n\nAnd then, with a feeling like the bottom had fallen out of my stomach, I was there. \n\n\n**\n\n\nSelf-promotion time! Check out /r/TimeSyncs for more of my work!*" ]	2
	[WP] I am the lesser of two evils.	[ "\"Wh... where am I?\" she saw a road leading to nowhere. She had no idea how she gotten there. All around her was a dark, forest-like wasteland, with crunching trees and dead leaves of color green, but dead green, the one that gives you shivers. She was trembling but she proceeded down the path on the road. She didn't know where she was going, and she tried to stay as silent as possible not to draw attention if there are robbers nearby. She was swallowing hear tears, just trying to stay calm. Couple of minutes later, or maybe hours or days according to her consciousness, the forest started to become more lightened and less grim. She appeared in front two roads. She stood still. She didn't know where she was, nor where she's going. The two roads confused her. The voice spoke: \n\"What are you doing here, young lady?\" the voice was not frightening. It wasn't friendly either. On the sound of it, she shivered and gasped, but soon, she came to her senses. \n\"I... I am lost. Can you help me?\" the voice was silent. From the bush between the splitting road came out a figure, no bigger than a lamb. It looked like a wisp of some sort, and resembled a pumpkin with a robe. It shone blue. \n\"Why yes, yes I can. That is why I am here. This is the path of evil. Every human in its life comes to the point where he has to chose between two paths that lead to two different places. You are now in one.\" \n\"Where do they take me? Can you tell me that?\" \n\"Why yes, yes I can. This one leads to a great evil and pain, and instant death.\" the wisp stopped talking. Suddenly, a terrifying growl started talking to her.\" \n\"I can take your hand if you want to, and take you trough this road. I promise, it will be quick.\" now, after hearing this voice, she lost her will to stay strong. She was scared and wanted to leave quickly. The growl became even more louder, and above the glowing wisp, a smokey shadow rose, with eyes of red and smile of dread. He spoke again:* \n\"Give me your hand, and it will be over with very soon.\" \n\"I don't want him to take me.\" she said to the wisp. \"Take me the other path. Please.\" \n\"Is that what you want?\" \n\"Yes, please. I don't want to stay here anymore. Please!\" \n\"Why, yes ma'am. I will. Sorry my friend scared you.\" he reached for her hand gently. She looked the pumpkin wisp in the warm, blueish eyes and found hope. She believed him. \n\"Let's go, m' lady.\" and she stood, leaving the grim shadow behind, guarding it's own road. \n\"Thank you, creature. I don't know where this path takes me, but I didn't want to end dead on that one. I have a child I need to go back to. I have an ill mother. Thank you.\" the wisp was quiet. It just led the way while she was following it. \"You never told me, anyways. If that path leads to death, to what does this path lead to?\" \n\"M' lady, I don't want to rain on your parade, but every path leads to death. We all die one way or another. That path was just filled with pain. But sometimes, pain lasts only for a second before we find ourselves in the other world. This path does lead to evil and pain, but not instant death. All paths are painful, and evil and good are just two sides of the same mirror.\" \n\"You... you tricked me? Who are you?\" \n\"I am one side of the mirror, m' lady.\" \n\"And... that monster? He was the other side?\" \n\"Why yes, yes m' lady. He was the lesser of two evils.\" \n............................. \nInspired by the tale of Kindred from League of Legends.", "I am the lesser of two evils.\n\nThat's what my lord says. Yet it still feels wrong. \n\nI am the better of two injustices\n\nThat's what the world screams when I feel the smooth wood, and it's weight. \n\nI am the greater of two criminals. \n\nThat's what my Wife, my Family, my Freinds, that's what they all tell me. When I stand infront of the croud, everyone jeering, and booing.\n\nI am the kinder of two monsters.\n\nThat's what the law tells me. As I hold the fusion of wood and metal above my head \n\nI am the stronger of two wills.\n\nI tell myself that as the blade of the axe falls upon the criminal's neck.\n\nI am the lesser of two evils.\n\nThats what they all say... \n\nIf i'm the lesser of two evils each time I reap the life from another, then i'll be the greater of the two evils now. " ]	2
	[WP] You're a hotshot Hollywood writer, you're now trying to sell an unmarketable and unmake-able movie.	[ "Alright, buddy. My new man on the scene, this Dan. You Know, your agent? look, Lew, I got a script so hot here it could fry twinkies. Alright here it is:\n\nWe remake the Jazz Singer\n\nWe already got the Make-up and the white gloves, you'll do great! now, some people might say this idea is \"in poor taste\" and-hang up noise", "Every generation grows up with certain cinematic staples. The 90's generation grew up in an era of Barney, Pokemon, and... the Teletubbies. These viewers are grown up now. They are independent earners, they are smart, they are sophisticated, and they are looking for cinematic experiences that they can relate to. But no one ever truly forgets the television and movie characters they grew up with. \n\nSo ladies and gentlemen, we are going to tap into this nostalgia in a way that is mature. As you all know, we just acquired the rights to the Teletubbies. As children, the Teletubbies made us laugh. As adults, I want the Teletubbies to make us think, and ponder, and curse, as well as laugh. This feature will ground the whimsy of our childhood in the gritty realism of the 21st century.\n\nThe movie starts as any other day in Teletubbyland. Tinky-winky, Laa Laa, Dipsy and Po gather around their kitchen table early in the morning, over coffee and cronuts. Dipsy, a functioning alcoholic, pours two fingers of whisky into his coffee as Tinky-winky shakes his head disapprovingly. As the sun rises over the green fields of Teletubbyland, the four tubbies venture out for their mandated playtime, supervised by the omnipresent CCTV cameras at every street corner. \n\nA gleaming black Cadillac rolls slowly through a children's soccer game and into the green fields of Teletubbyland. Inside are ANGUS MCKELLAN, real estate mogul, and his twin sister, famous property developer AUGUSTINA MCKELLAN, who are mid 20's, elegant and mysterious. Both have fabulous cheekbones and piercing gazes that stop the tubbies in their tracks. Both siblings share an fiery passion for high-end prostitutes, but Teletubbyland has no red-light district and no prostitutes. \n\nThe Mckellan's are here to construct a luxury shopping mall in Teletubbyland, with an attached 5-story parkade. Playtime will never be the same if the Mckellan's have their way. \n\nAll four tubbies feel an instant animal attraction to the pair. But they're not sure to which one. Do they desire the brother? Or the sister? Or both? They do not know, but they will find out.", "Your name is Dave Strider, and goddamn, trying to make SBAHJ: The mvoie is so much harder than trying to convince publishing companies and political news sites to pick up your comics. They did in the end, of course, and gained so much from doing so, but it had been like shoving a red-hot rod up your ass trying to get them to take you seriously. \n\n\"No, dude, it's meant to have the shitty visuals- what do you mean 'what's the point'? That is the point! It's meant to be bad, and it's-\" The voice on the other end didn't even bother to say anything else before just ending the call. You lean back with an incredibly heavy sigh, letting the leather chair beneath you spin slightly. Well then. Time for you to pull out the big guns, huh? \n \n~ \n \nYou stab at the buttons with a hand, leaning on one elbow against your desk, head in your free hand. And... 5...3...6.... The phone started to call. One ring. Two rings. Three. Four. \n\n\"You know, mister Strider, that I have a book to finish writing by the end of this year, correct? I would prefer to finish it within the next few months, but at this rate, I won't finish it until the year 3000 because you have the inexcusable need to call me at every corner and milestone of your life, whether it be the first time you've eaten a curry without crying or if you just had to climb up the fire exit of building to get away from a clique of fans that recognize you for your work.\" \n \n\"Yeah, sup to you too Rose.\" You sigh. She was just teasing, but that doesn't excuse the fact that it was pretty true. But who gives a flying horse fuck about that when you need to get right into the deep and dirty work, like some kind of flying horse shit factory floor. Or something. \"Listen, you know how you've got this vendetta against Betty Crocker? The whole alien conspiracy thing?\" \n \n\"You mean the one I know for a fact you're coming around to and starting to believe? Yes, I know the one.\" Fuck her and her smirk. You're on the goddamn phone, and you can hear the smirk in her voice. \n \n\"Yeah, that one. Whatever.\" You tap your fingers against the desk, one tap per second. \"I've sent my script to as many companies as I can. I need your help for finding a company to accept it. You might be happy to know there's some stuff against Crocker in there. I'll let you rewrite those parts of the script, as long as you help me, and don't turn it into one of your huge-ass books. Those things could kill a fucking baby.\" Rose seems to consider you moment for a while, giving a small 'Hm.' and going into silence. Rose worked like that, having to think out for a while. One of the reasons she worked best on paper. She could, of course, give a rapid-fire ramble if the circumstances matched her thoughts, like you, but you just ramble all the fucking time. You'd had a newspaper interview wi- \n\"Send me the script Strider. I'll see to it that you get the best outcome.\" \n \n~ \n \n\"So you want it to be bad on purpose?\" \n \n\"Hell yeah, having the fuckin' jpeg glitchy shit floating all around like it's crappy-visual drizzle.\" You're allowed to over-do your replies with this guy. Rose said it'd be better if you did. Work up the Dave Strider ham and all that. Maybe even act more like your online persona than your real self, make an image and all that. \n\n\"And you want some of Hollywood's best actors to show up in it?\" \n\n\"Like it's celebrity survival island, minus the back-stabbing and with more falling down stairs and doritos.\" You pause. \"And shitty glitch drizzle.\" Now there's a pause on the other end of the line. One second. Three seconds. Five. Six. Seven. \n\n\"Well, Dave - David?\" \n \n\"Just Dave.\" It comes up every damn time. 'Oh but David sounds more professional!' No, shut the fuck up. Your name is Dave. \n\n\"Right. So, Dave Strider, you want to make... an intentionally bad movie, with a purposely poor-crafted script that says to leave in all mistakes, filled with as many well-known actors as it's possible, and I quote 'or even beyond possible. We're doing this.... we're making this happen.'\" \n\n\"Exactly that. No matching names, quotes, or correctly-spelled titles in this shit. We're going beyond the extreme, to the point where it's so bad it's unfunny, and so unfunny it is funny, with that sweet sweet sincerity that no one's felt since they were fuckin' twelve years old and still worried about the sugar princess ball and their being the sugar princess for the year.\" \n\n\"... Right. And you've got Rose Lalonde personally recommending your script, and she's even mentioned that she helped to write parts if it. What parts they were, she didn't let slip, but even so. she helped. So this all has... some deeper meaning, right?\" The poor guy on the other end sounded so desperate. He was grasping at straws, like he really wanted this movie to get through. You half-wonder if Rose perhaps threatened him. \n\n\"Deeper than the ocean. We're falling through the crust and into the heated mess of the mantle, with all the magma and face-melting you could desire.\" You cringe slightly at the thought. God you hate thinking about lava. Bad metaphor. Bad Dave. \n\n\"Oh! Good! Of course, I didn't mean to imply you wouldn't do anything of the sort. Okay. Here's what I'm going to do, uh, Dave. I'll put this through. It will be considered. If it's made a movie then, great! Excellent! If it isn't then I personally promise to recommend it to whatever company you try to go through next. Deal?\" He sounds a little relieved. Secret deep meaning is what Hollywood's all about, apparently. If people will get your secret deep meaning, you don't know. Hell, your deep meaning only shows up in places,and the rest of the movie is going to be a fucking shitshow. \n\n\"Sounds like a plan. I'd be slamming my manly-ass fist into your manly-ass fist in a display of the ultimate trust a guy can give other than letting them other hold onto some taser that'd shock his balls or something.\" \n\"... Alright then. Uh. Yes. Well! I will be getting back to you, Dave Strider. Goodbye, and good luck!\" Then he hung up. You let out a sigh, and lean back on your chair. Now it's time to wait. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. One... two... three... \n \n~ \n \nAt four hundred and thirteen seconds your phone rings. \n\nThat's too soon. Way too soon. You pick it up without looking at the number. \n\n\"Lalonde I don't appreciate you calling me while I'm waiting on an important phonecall and blah blah blah. All that shit. You imagine what my rant could be in your head. Congrats. It was fucking awesome and made you feel real bad. Now you can tell me what you want, or what news your bring, like some creepy half-gothic blonde with a weridass ability to make good predictions. Remind me to ask you who wins the superbowl.\" \n\n\"I'm amazed you even know what the superbowl is. Do you know what sport it involves?\" \n\n\"Fuckin' motorbikes and death machines. I don't know. Sports.\" There's an amused snort at the other end of the phone. \n\n\"Wonderful. Anywho, our knowledge on what sport is aside, I am assuming the call went well, yes?\" \n\n\"No, I'm sitting here and crying. I'm actually waiting for my therapist to call me. I think they hate me too. Whole world against me. Boo hoo.\" \n\n\"You know I could very easily take you up on that. Perhaps I could be your newly assigned therap-\" \n\n\"Got to cut you off there, tiger. Look at you. Half an animal carcass. Sell it on the black market. Get some dough. The guy's gonna call me back with either good or bad news. Any correct predictions, Houdini?\" \n\n\"You'll get it.\" She sounds so sure of it. Like there's absolutely no wriggle room. You're fucking getting the Mvoie made. \n\n\"And you know that becaaaaause...?\" You know she knows that you have a suspicion of what she'll say, but you asked anyway, so she'll answer anyway. \n\n\"Outer gods.\" She claims that her dreams with some creepy-ass tentacle monsters give her powers. You mean, it could be true from what you've seen, but you don't really survive by believing everything your sister tells you. (The whole sister thing had been something she'd told you as well, even though you'd been thinking it for a while. With your combined cash, you got it checked out and it was right.) \n\n\"Alright. Well, I've gotta go back to counting to pass the time. Have fun writing your wizard fanfic.\" \n\n\"It's not fanfiction if it's own original work, and one that also makes me rather wealthy thank you.\" Even so, she sounds lightly amused. \"Goodnight then, Strider.\" \n\n\"Such a warm goodbye. Seeya Rosey.\" You hang up before the nickname gets an angry backlash. \n\n~\n\nIt's been one year, two hundred and thirty-six days, around four hours, thirteen minutes since you called the last company. Four days and six hours since you called them, they called back. Two months since, they pulled together a cast, and one month after that, they began to film. \n\nYour movie (or Mvoie) is currently showing in theaters, along with the shorter side-moive that you made to occasionally be played instead of the Mvoie. Life is sweet. \n\nYou name is Dave Strider, you have two movies out (one somewhat secretly) and three more on the way, all the scenes being shot on the same set, with some being shot in New Zealand or China because why the hell not. You and your sisters hatred of Betty Crocker has apparently not been picked up yet, although you did get a red business card with the words 'Yo betta watch yoself' printed on it in white, with a pink glittery 'dead' smiley face, the eyes crossed out. The more interviews you go to, the more confused the public is about your image and personality, which is exactly what you want. The interviews you do with your sister are known as hell for the interviewer, but are loved by those watching. You're making a name for yourself, and it's a purposely misspelled one with a lot of secrets behind it.\n\n[ EDIT: Spacing? ]" ]	3
	[WP] What do superheroes do when there's no more crime?	[ "\"What will we do now,\" said Superman, \"All the Villans have been defeated, all the criminals in jail. What will I do?\"\n\n\"You could volunteer,\" his sidekick suggested. \"Do communty service you know?\"\n\n\"No, my talents are needed for some thing bigger,\" He said, clearly getting sadder by the second.\n\n\"You could become the villain,\" ponedered the sidekick.\n\n\"That would be great! I can give others the chance to be hero's,\" he yelled.\n\nAnd from that day on, the world was ruled by superman, becuse there were no goddam other people with superpowers." ]	1
Write about a world where every time some world-changing event takes place, people fight and compete to become the 'main character' attached to every story and adventure arising from day to day.	[WP] In a world full of main characters, people must compete to become the protagonist of their own stories.	[ "Sometimes, you are your own worst enemy, even if only from the outside.\n\nA few weeks ago, couriers came galloping into the streets of the town of Rimsford, the city of adventurers. They spoke of a demon lord, Rakazzok, rising in the far eastern kingdoms, subjugating and conquering all that he sought, wielding primodial magics and power far greater than any mortal man could ever hope to overcome. One of the greatest threats the three empires had ever seen, they whispered, the light of madness, of sights too unholy to mention, dancing in their eyes. A force that would stop at nothing until all of Erde was his.\n\nAs was time-honored tradition, the word spread forth from Rimsford, beseeching all adventurers both old and young to come and compete in the great games, which would decide who best could combat the great evil in the east. In less than a week, the city was overrun with peasants, misfits, knights, fortune-seekers, mages and anti-mages, exiled princes and exalted paupers, even the great dwarf king Orrivin himself, filling the wide streets with noise and shouts and excitement. Such an adventure of this magnitude hadn’t been seen since the first songs of Erde, and to whomever won the privilege to go best Rakazzok, honor and glory would be showered upon them and their house for a thousand years. Everyone wanted the chance to go prove themselves worthy.\n\nOnce the last of these folk trickled in, the games began in earnest, bouts of strength and courage, competitions to reveal those with the strongest resolve and the highest leadership, mettled mind games of the Elkafani, horsemanship, morals, test after test quickly weeded out the chaff of the bunch, the great dragon-lords, whose decision-making in these matters were unmatched, choosing who would continue and who would fall. For a week, the streets grew emptier and the contests fiercer as the final stages of the event approached ever nearer. Of those, there were a handful of mages, lords of the magical realm on the North, several valiant paladins who had sworn themselves over to their gods in their quests of attaining enlightenment, nine veterans of the adventuring business, who had years of accumulated experience and honor under their belts, and surprising, a rogue, who had so far outmatched all of the challenges and challengers thrown his way.\n\nI wonder what they think of me, the outcast of the privileged bunch, persevering through the thick and thin of peasant and warlord alike. I wonder what they think of me now, as I vanish and appear behind Elou, one of the greatest wizards of the North, avoiding his powerful battle magics as I give him a simple tap from behind with my blade, ending this match. Or of how the paladin Finmakr, visibly glowing with the infused divine will of his god, shouting a prayer as he charges my crouched form, trips on something on the immaculate earth and comes crashing down at my feet, where I laugh and finish the job. Those dragon lords sure must be working a furrow on their scaly brows as the mightiest of the land fall beneath me.\n\nSoon enough there are only two of us left, and we face each other on the grand pitch, spectators cheering wildly across the sand. My opponent stands before me, story-book perfect, one of the spellblades of the jungles of the south, a master of both the blade and the arcane. Lustrous black locks frame a heroic, square-jawed face, blue eyes gazing confidently from a perfect face. The real hero of this story, the one who deserved to journey to the east and forever destroy the evil machinations of the demon lord, rounding up a perfectly cliche clique of adventurer pals along the way. A man who would have songs sung in his glory for a thousand years. All he had left to do was go through me, a disheveled rogue who stood between him and the world.\n\nThe crowd exalts his name and curse my own, baying for blood in either case. All would be decided here, now.\n\nThe silk scarf, dropped from the taloned hand of the eldest dragon lord, touches the earth. And the contest is over.\n\nHis perfect mouth chokes out blood in the middle of the pitch, back spasming as the poison takes effect, and I stand there wiping my black blade on an equally black scarf, the crowd hushed and still. Raising an eyebrow, I turned completely around, trying to find any who had faith in my abilities, in my prowess. All I could see scrawled on their dirty faces is the droop of disappointment, the resentment. Excellent.\n\nAfter that, the ceremony seemed… decidedly lackluster. Didn’t these people know who I was, what I was about to accomplish in the East? Well, no, I suppose they didn’t. In any case. The dragon lords anointed me worthy, gave me their blessing, and set me off with a horse and a sack of supplies. The grand beginning of the adventure to save all of Erde. Usually a few poets accompany the chosen one, as well as a small band of aspiring adventurers who had lost in the games but want to prove themselves worthy over the course of the adventure, but I leave the gates of Rimsford alone. All the better.\n\nBecause there’s one thing you should know, a piece of advice I heard from a dying sage a long time ago. Something that made me go to the city of adventurers in the first place, to compete and crush every last hope of the rest of the world. Sometimes, you are your own worst enemy, even if only from the outside.\n\nBy the time they learn the truth, all the world will be mine.", "Mogul, the Secret Service name for the real estate tycoon, placed his hand on the Bible, raised his chin like Jefferson at Mount Rushmore, and smiled devilishly at the Chief Justice.\n\nWith a surprised look on his face, and a futile doggie paddling atop the Holy Book, the future president plummeted straight through a trap door in the granite with blond hair streaming upward like flames from Hades.\n\nSilence... puzzlement... gasps... a cry or two...\n\nand then a collective recognition of what has been witnessed...\n\nfollowed by the loudest cheers you've ever heard!\n\nWhites: Woohoo! Baby, cancel the moving truck to Canada!\n\nMexicans: Gracias a Dios!\n\nBlacks: Hallelujah! Sweet Jesus!\n\nMedia: Conspiracy theorists postulate that, blah, blah, blah....\n\nVice President Ted Cruz: Most punch-able face in America? How do you like me now bitches!\n\nNote: If anybody wants to commandeer this story, and do it right, please do. The intention was to write a story about what happens if the most protagonistic American of all time disappeared at the moment of becoming president.", "The big dance was a week away and I hadn’t the courage to ask anyone as a date yet. Across the hall I walked towards a group of girls chatting in the hallway, all dateless up to this point. There was Serena, the beautiful Spanish rose that stole my heart when she showed up to gym wearing purple booty shorts. Then there was Emily C. the outgoing, gregarious girl from history class who I fell for when I was too busy staring at her to hear a word about her presentation on Ancient Greece. Finally, there was Catalina the most beautiful of them all and the true object of my desires. If only I could summon the strength to ask, who knows what mig-\n\n “Out of my way dork.”\n\nI shoved that nerd Ed out of the way. I didn’t want to be mean, but that kid is always staring into space, never watching where he’s going, I don’t have time for people like him. I take what I want and I saw what I wanted right in front of me. My future date for the dance, Catalina. She was perfect, just hot enough to take to the dance, but not too hot that she’d already been asked. I saw her straight ahead, in between two of her annoying friends. Halfway down the hall, I stopped at my locker, taking my phone out and checking my reflection in my camera. Damn, I \nlooked good. I took a confident step forward, but suddenly lost my balance.\n\n“Read the sign Mr. Gonzalez, ‘Wet Floor.’”\n\nThese young pups are sure a lot bigger than back in my day, but that still doesn’t mean I’ll let that punk Rico take Catalina to the dance. A little extra water on the floors proved to be worthy of the task. I’ve been a janitor at this school for 14 years now and never have I seen a girl as beautiful as Catalina walk through these halls. I figured if anyone ought to take her on a date, it ought to be me, good ole Scruffy. As I took off my cap and dusted it off, I gave my mustache a \ncursory straightening with my hand and took a step forward.\n\n“Catalina, would you like to go to the dance with me this Sunday?”\n\nThe words came out of my mouth before I had time to stop them. I mean what was I thinking? Me, a freshman, asking a senior to her own dance. It was ludicrous, it was insane, it was…\n\n“Oh my God! You’re Joey’s little brother, you are so sweet. Of course I’ll go with you.”\n\nI smiled a wide grin. I had been planning for weeks on how to get closer to Joey. I mean his hair, his muscles, he was like a greek god. I had no idea how I was going to pull it off until it just fell in my lap. Now there was no stopping…\n\n“Hey, hey, hey wait a sec. I was going to ask you to the dance!”\n\n“Uh, nice try, but there’s no way she’d ever go with a dork like you, she needs a real man. Ain’t that right Cat?”\n\n“Well boys if you’d excuse me, there ain’t never been a mess that ole Scruffy here hasn’t been able to clean. Hows bout I take you to the dance Miss Catalina hehe…”\n\n“Wha- Hey! No fair, I asked first fair and square and she’s going with me.”\n\n“I mean, sorry boys, he has a point.”\n\n“Yea, but this is my story! Kind but introverted guy finally sums up the courage to ask his crush to the dance!”\n\n“Woah, hold on there cowboy, this is MY story. School bully finds love and changes his ways for the better.”\n\n“Well, if I may interject, I believe this is a yarn about ole Scruffy and his sorrowful tale about a forbidden love.”\n\n“No, this is a story how I’m resentful of my older brother’s success and try and take something that he really likes for myself.”\n\n“Um, no, this is my story about a pretty girl’s trials through high school…Wait did you say he likes me?”\n\n“Actually, you’re all wrong, you’re just minor characters and a subplot to my story where I save \nthe school from a zombie apocalypse.”\n\nWith that I cocked my shotgun and fired a round at the zombified corpse of our principle Mr. Deedeys. Cracking his head like a coconut I took a revolver from the back of my jeans and \nthrew it to my little brother. \n\n“You’re up little man.”\n\n“Wow, you really mean it? Thanks Joey!”\n\nI watched as my bro ripped a hole through an undead Ms. Russel, the Lit teacher I had a crush on Sophomore year, and disappear down the hall, gun ablaze. I looked over to see Ed and Rico \nhugging one another in fright.\n\n“Guys, I need you to be brave, you think can save the freshman trapped in room 303?”\n\nThey looked scared, but they nodded. As they ran off, I heard a shriek behind me.\n\n“Ahhhh get away from meeeeee!” Catalina yelled as the zombie of our gym teacher Horace Plump was bearing down on her.\n\n“Don’t worry miss, Ole Scruffy has been in a tangle or two in his day.”\n\nScruffy, wielding his mop, twirled it like a pinwheel before snapping it over his knee, creating two sharpened staffs. He turned to give me a quick wink before lunging into the fray.\n\nI grabbed Catalina and made a break for the exit. Rounding the corner though I stopped in my tracks. The zombified corpses of Ed and Rico were coming our way! Without hesitation I blasted each one with my shotgun. Reloading, I saw there was a third zombie coming my way. \nIt was my little brother!\n\n“No! They got you too? This wasn’t supposed to happen!”\n\nNone of this was supposed to happen. I heard another shriek and turned around to see the zombified form of Scruffy biting into Catalina’s neck. \n\n“Ah! No! What the hell? This is my story you hear me! None of this is going according to the \nscri-…”\n\nI bit into his neck silencing him mid-sentence. With one bite he dropped to his knees, his pitiful rebellion quashed in an instant. I watched as the blood gurgled out of his neck spreading like a red carpet on the previously clean floors. I watched as it coagulated and stopped, suddenly becoming a sickly purple color. And then I watched, as Joey Banner stood back up, now a member of my army. The last true hero turned, the school was mine.", "If you stare at someone for long enough their edges begin to fade. Until there’s nothing left but an obscured impressionist painting. The core tenets of their being slowly eviscerating into the backdrop. Resembling nothing concrete; the summation of billions of years of history. And then you blink, and they’re whole again. Talking about something that you lost track of minutes ago. Spewing their hopes and dreams in your direction, an unwilling receptacle for someone else’s problems. And they haven’t even noticed your gaze creeping further and further towards the horizon.\n\nI sat on the edge of my seat. Contorting my shoulders away from the slouch they ever so wanted to fall into. Doing everything in my power to maintain the construct of interest. Though it’s not like I had any place to be passive. It was my life they were talking about. Well it was their own, but of course it was inextricably linked to me. It really makes you question your own integrity, hell even your own mortal claim on living, when so many other people are better at being you. How many times in my life, just as things seemed to be perking up, I had to relinquish the keys. The unwilling participant of my own life. Giving script notes to someone I’ve never met.\n\nIt’s my own fault anyways. I’m sure They’d rather you start a long journey down addiction than look into it. And of course by They I mean the ever omnipresent, dystopian clichéd They. Capital T They. It was hard to get copies of, but theory of the ‘self’ and all the ancient philosophers behind it had been banned for centuries. It wasn’t quite even communism, maybe hyper-communism to some extent. You don’t just share goods, or wealth. You share the idea of society as a whole. You don’t own your own body, you only control the ‘self’, the soul. Whatever that might be. Free to encompass as many lives as you wish. In part or in whole. At each moment staking a claim not so much on a person, but on an actor encompassing a moment in time.\n\nIt wasn’t so much the idea that you could never really become whole that bothered me. Never claiming ownership of anything. What really bothered me was this consistently fragmented notion of time. This constant battle, entity to entity for who most deserved your moment. Survival of the fittest in the most allegorical premise. A battle for the righteousness of human nature. To fully encompass your ‘self’ for any duration of time, you had to live in a body that had no hopes or desires. No promise towards the future, lest someone else with a more complete and morally sound sense of being take ownership. You left to float in the void until another lowly body become available, drunk at the bottom of a ditch.\n\nYou’d feel that dopamine rush in, those hormonally dictated feelings only present when your connected with reality. Can feel the blood kick into your heart. Your picture of the future growing more and more clear, happiness apparent, even if only barely so. And next thing you know you’re sitting at your coffee table with someone else. \n\nIt always started with a conversation. More like a dance. A free for all ceremony, their actions, patterns of speech. Their gait, their ticks. Everything slowly becomes completely aligned with your own. And after enough times, you just stop paying attention. Everything fades to obscurity, and you look down and you’re in someone else’s body.\n\nAnd for just about everyone this is just normality. Lives come and go, they ebb and flow. Eventually everyone lives as so many people that equilibrium occurs. Everyone experiences just as many good lives as they do bad. You become better at taking over good lives the longer you are around. Though the idea if death looms just as obscurely as the self.\n\nBut what do you do when you want to claim ownership? To exist as yourself, not just in the mind but in the body. In the soul. The coalescing of human experience into a unified structure. To take back the most elusive and sensitive experience. Time. And the more I read, and the more I understand the joys and sorrows of the ‘self’ the more each and every transfer becomes soul deadening. To the extent that when I’m dropped in a good life, it might as well be that of a beggar. \n\n\n", "I carved a notch into the wall, next to the other three hundred and forty-seven. \n\nI pressed my eye against the scope.\n\nThe street below was empty, a stray cat disappeared into the boarded up window of an old Starbucks and a few plastic bags floated down the road like jellyfish caught in a current. I scanned left, and then right. Nothing.\n\nYou would think it would get lonely, being the last protagonist. It wasn’t. It was like being bathed in a personal spotlight of glory. All eyes on you. \n\nI shouldered the rifle and stuffed some old bread into my backpack. My theme music started up as I cleared the first three stairs.\n\nYou know that feeling when somebody is telling a really good story about you to a crowd of people. You sit in silent anticipation, watching it arch beautifully to a conclusion of your greatness. It's like that, all-the-fucking-time.\n\nI kicked down the front door of the building, and strolled into the street. My street. My town. My world.\n\nI began running down the footpath, not because I needed too, simply to hear the gorgeous sound of my first person narration ring in my ears as I did.\n\nDamn, that honey-drizzled-over-gravel voice.\n\n\n \n" ]	5
	[WP]In a world, filled with people with unbelievable superpowers, you have the most feared power of all, a power that makes anyone, have a shy, akward, crush on you.	[ "When I was in elementary school, I was constantly being taken out of class for extra help with my reading. I had a hard time connecting the written word with the spoken word. Fumbling and stumbling over the most basic words, from cats, to dogs, to love.\n\nThen one day we had a foreign exchange student join our class, Lexi. She was fluent in every language, both manmade and animal. She always sat next to me in the very front of the class. She wouldn't actually talk to me, but she would stare quite often. I always thought it was because the teacher had asked her to keep an eye on me. However, everything began to make sense after I received a valentine's day card from her.\n\nIt wasn't actually valentine's day when I got the card. (I got the card in the mail a couple of weeks after we graduated fifth grade). Lexi had been accepted to a boarding school full of super academics. And I on the other hand would be attending an awakening school designed to assess my super potential. \n\nAt first glance, I thought her card was simple and store bought. It was in the shape of a heart with Happy Valentine's Day! written across the center of it. It was a personally recorded card that activated it's message upon opening it. Immediately upon opening it I was greeted with the sound of Lexi; meowing and barking. That was it. No explanation, no writing, no intelligible utterance. I was completely dumbfounded. Or at least I was at the time.\n\nEverything became crystal clear the following year when my school's principal, Mr. Willis, blurted out during the morning announcements his undying love for me. To this day, I can still hear the echoes of middle schoolers laughing in the halls of my mind. Making kissy faces and noises at me as I ran home for the day. My parents met with the school and tests were performed on me to determine what exactly was happening. They made jokes and references I didn't understand. Mr. Willis had to disconnect his phone and he even went so far as to transfer schools.\n", "The day that I discovered my \"potential\" and powers was the day that everything in my life became awkward. Everything. On the morning of my birthday, all was going well and normal. Until my mother rushed in with her face flushed. She was blushing and twirling her hair around her fingers. All I could feel was shock at her attitude. \n\n\"Mom, what are you doing?!\" I screeched. Sheepishly, she pulled out a new phone for me. \n\n\"Happy birthday..h-honey,\" she murmured, giggling as she said each word. What was even worse was that her skirt was slowly getting wetter and wetter. What was she so embarrassed about?! I could only feel terror and awkwardness as my mother stood there, giggling and toying with her curls. I snatched the device from her at last and dismissed her. Then came my father. He walked in and immediately, his face became tomato red. Leaning against my bedroom wall, I couldn't do anything but watch him move around with shyness. \n\n\"How can I help you Dad?\" I broke the silence. \n\n\"Uh.... Happy birthday Jackie. I got you a Ferrari that's downstairs,\" said Dad. He looked into my eyes with an intense stare. Jackie? No one ever called me that. Was all of this just a prank? A joke for my birthday? Or...what was happening to everyone?\n\n\"Stop it, Dad. Honestly. Stop playing around with me.\" I rolled my eyes, but suddenly, my father dropped to his knees. \n\n\"I'm sorry Jackie. I didn't mean to. I was just trying to get your attention; I—\" I immediately cut him off from the lame speech.\n\n\"Dad, please go away,\" I commanded him like he was a dog.\n\n\"Listen to me explain, Jackie—\"\n\n\"Don't call me Jackie.\" After moments of silence, I was forced to push my dad out of the door for him to leave me alone. I sighed. Hopefully the rest of my Saturday would be normal. But that's when the texts came flooding into my phone. The first vibration occurred, and I lifted my phone from the desk beside me. I read the notification: text message from Amy. Amy Walter?! Amy Walter. The most well-known girl in our school (and my secret crush) was actually texting me! Before I could unlock my phone, a myriad of texts came tumbling in. Nellie? Wasn't that the extremely introverted but cute nerd in my class? Miranda? The girl who has hated me ever since we were born? Why would she be texting me?? My head fell back onto my pillow. What the hell was going on? Sure, I liked attention and people liking me, but this was going a little bit too far. And then came in the messages from my friends; they were all asking me to go out with them tomorrow. After a moment of struggle, I managed to finish texting all of the boys that I have no interest in guys (I'm straight). As for the girls, maybe I'll just leave them hanging for a while. :) ", "----\n\nAbilities cannot manipulate the minds of others. That was an unbroken rule, that is, until I came along. People were scared, terrified of that prospect. Mind control they called it, an ability that surpassed the physical plane and entered the mental one. A forbidden spell that invaded the domain of the human heart. Or at least that's what the theorists said.\n\nIn the sixteen years since I awakened this ability, it never developed beyond making people subtly \"like\" me, and even then, the effects lasted no longer than a minute. In a world where some men could fly and others could move things with their minds, it was nothing close to impressive.\n\nAnd that was the truth. The reality was, people weren't afraid of me. They were afraid of my bloodline, the potential of my children. All it'd take was one with an ounce of talent, someone who could utilize more than a fragment of its true power, to create a monster.\n\nSome wanted to sterilize me, to ensure that such a nightmare would never come into fruition. Others wanted to kill me and incinerate my body, to eliminate all chances of my cells being replicated. But one person stood by my side, one person who decided to risk everything to cure my ailing heart. It was because of that person that I could live, that I could walk this dangerous path. So as selfish as it sounds, I have only one wish from you, child whose face I will never see. Though it may hate you, though it may be your enemy, a being that wishes to harm you, I ask that you protect this world.\n\nIf you must hate someone, then do not hate the people who fear you. If you must hate someone, then hate me, the man who gave you this curse.\n\n----" ]	3
	[WP] A person who signs up for an expiremental drug test gets unexpected results.	[ "\"good evening, Mr. Han.\" \n\nThe doctor spoke with an icy tone, looking upon me with those piercing cool blue eyes I could see the pity for me within them. \n\n\"Are you sure you wish to continue with the procedure Mr. Han? This will be your final chance to cancel the operation. May I say once more the dangers this expierme-\" \n\n\"JUST START THE DAMN PROCEDURE.\" I could feel the sickness thickening in my lungs, agony growing with each passing breath. \n\n\"As you wish Mr. Han... Oh and one final thing, you must be awake for the drug to take effect. We will be administering a powerful sedative to make sure no pain is felt during the procedure.\" \n\n\"Wait what?!\" I felt the needle enter my arm, I did not feel it leave. \n\n\"Ah yes, very good Mr. Han it seems all vitals are functioning properly we shall begin the procedure.\" \n\nThe doctor snapped his gloves on and grabbed a bone saw, I could only lay there and try not to stare as the doctor began working his way towards my organs. Darkness began to envelop my vision the further the doctor tore into me. It looked as if he was enjoying this, seeing the small smile on his lips sent shivers up my spine. The last words that reached my ears before I faded was shouting from the doctors lips. It sounded like \"Freeze.... now...\" and it all went black. \n\nI woke up, feeling... warm. My surroundings were covered in ice. I looked to my left to see a nurse completely incased in a thick layer of ice. Was this my doing? I pushed my self off the operating table, cold air filling my lungs. I could breathe easy again, I felt strong... very strong. I approached an ice covered wall, it gave off a reflection of a man I did not recognize. I was looking at myself but it was not the sickly, disease ridden patient that had entered. No, it seemed the drug had made me into a warrior. I found some clothes that could accommodate my now unusually large girth, some black and blue scrubs were the only available clothing there. I managed to crack open the iced over door and walk into a hallway of disarray... medical staff dead, trays and carts frozen to the walls. \n\nwhat happened here? \n\nI continued down the hallway, coming to an elevator. I needed to find someone... someone who had knowledge of the events that transpired. The doctor... he could explain what happened to me. As I pressed the elevator button to go up, an electronic voiced chimed \n\nNow exiting level: Sub-Zero \n\nI will find the doctor and he will tell me what I am. \n___________________________________________________________________\n\nVery cool prompt! If you liked it, great! I always like feedback on stuff I write so don't be afraid to criticize! ", "\"Please read this form and sign here. Once you sign, we will begin the trial. If you have any questions I will be back in a few minutes to answer them.\"\n\nI'm going to sign it anyways, I thought to myself. I'll skip over the boring legalities and just put pen to paper. Being a poor university student did this to you. It made the promise of money, any amount, tantalizing. A few hours of being experimented on, followed by a night of drinking, all compensated by science.\n\nThis was my third study this semester. \n\nMy first study was a psychology experiment where I answered a quiz on a computer as quickly as I could and then sorted the faces of strangers into three categories (attractive, neutral and unattractive). For fifteen minutes of my time, I earned $60, and was told that I had racist tendencies. That hurt my ego a bit, but hell $60 could buy quite a few pitchers of beer!\n\nThe second study was more involved. I had to eat different beans for a month at a time, always eating at least 300 grams of the bean a day. At the end of the month, I gave 10 mL of blood and a stool sample. The beans were repetitive and boring, The stool sample was awkward, but I did earn $1000 after three months. I also got free beans for a month, which really helped me save on groceries. I didn't blow all of the grand on drinking, I also bought a sweet flatscreen T.V. and wireless headphones. \n\nThe lab assistant returned. \n\n\"So, do you have any questions before you sign?\", she asked.\n\n\"When will I receive the compensation?\"\n\n\"In three hours, when the testing is complete. If there is nothing else, lets begin.\" \n\nShe opened a small refrigerator, which was under the desk and removed a large syringe filled with a clear fluid. \n\n\"Alright, I will need you to turn around a pull down your pants a little. This will be a sub dermal injection into your upper thigh.\"\n\nI did as I was told, and felt the prick and sting of the injection.\n\n\"There you go. Now I will be back every 15 minutes to monitor your vitals and take measurements. Please take note of anything that may seem out of the ordinary to you, no matter how small or nonsensical it might seem. If you need assistance before I return, please press this red button. Otherwise, try to relax.\"\n\nShe walked out of the room and closed the door behind her. Boredom immediately set in. Shit. I was going to have to sit here for the next three hours, and let her take my pulse and measure my pupil dilation every 15 minutes. Nothing was happening. I was going to be here forever. \n\nAfter a few moments of still feeling normal, I checked the clock to see how much time had passed. Glancing at the old analogue clock which hung above the door I realized only five minutes had passed. Feeling discouraged, I reached for the pen to fiddle with to help pass the time. The pen, which had been sitting on the table right beside my hand was about two feet away. \n\nBut I hadn't move, how was this possible?\n\nLooking down, my feet here floating off the ground. I was floating? Was this real? My head swam in confusion. I continued my upward trajectory, only a few inches before I would hit the ceiling and push myself back downwards to that red button. This situation definitely called for assistance.\n\nAs I neared the ceiling, I extended my arms upwards to prevent my head from banging into it. To my dismay, my hands continued to pass through the ceiling. My head, torso and legs followed. I felt my clothing being wicked off of me, like a layer of liquid is squeegeed off a windshield. I was naked, and still floating upwards.\n\nEverything went dark momentarily, and then exploded with light. I was above the building, floating higher and higher. What the fuck had I been injected with? There was no way to control this. It was as if I was less dense than air and moving towards equilibrium along the atmospheric gradient. What was going to happen to me? \n\nHigher and higher, the air getting thinner and thinner. I was dizzy and terrified.\n\nLooking away from the Earth for one moment, to inspect my own hands, I saw them begin to disintegrate. My skin blowing away like sand in the wind, mixing with the clouds and dispersing along the wind currents. I was dissolving. \n\nI should have read the fucking waiver.\n" ]	2
	[WP] When you die, you wake up as your ten year old self in your old bed, with barely any recollection of what happened.	[ "The silver, crinkled ceiling loomed above me, sloping down from the wall my bed was placed against, in the corner against the other wall, dividing the living areas from the bedrooms. Well, to call the whole place a house was a bit ironic since there was only one wall in the entire house. I loved that ceiling, though my Mum hated it, said it made her feel depressed because it was low and one colour. She also hated the metal beams running across the ceiling. I loved the speckles in the beams. I spent many hours watching TV, the colours reflected in the crinkled silver ceiling, it was easy to know what show my parents were watching based on the time at night and colours reflected in the silver ceiling.\n\nLifting my head a little, I looked out beyond the end of my bed and saw golden-pinkish light outside. I knew the sun had just risen, but couldn't see the hills in all their morning glory, every small detail of the land and trees illuminated by the sharp morning sun. Because the wall that connected to the crinkled silver ceiling and metal beams was made of corrugated metal and plastic. The corrugated plastic covered the top third part of the wall, allowing anyone inside to see the shadows and silhouettes of trees and hills outside, but only as if one were looking out to the world through severe cataracts.\n\nThe temperature was mild, the place had no insulation so the indoor/outdoor temperatures were the same. In winter, the fridge was just a little bit warmer than everything else. But it wasn't winter, it's the middle of summer, only a few days away from Christmas. I slide out of bed silently, so as not to wake my parents sleeping in the bed next to me, our sleeping spaces separated by tall dividers. Throwing on a T-Shirt, leggings and shoes I walked quietly out of my room into the living room and kitchen. Breathing in the crisp morning air, I gazed out of the only window there was, a huge old-fashioned wooden framed window that had been put in four years ago. The hills in the distance were looming above the land, tall, majestic and imposing. The early morning sunlight lit them all up in hues of gold, pink and purple.\n\nI fiddled with the TV, turned it on first, pushing the button so it wouldn't squeak the way it did if pressed too quickly, turned down the TV's volume before switching on the decoder. The screen buzzed and hummed quietly as images flickered on the screen, loud enough for me to hear but not loud enough to wake up my parents. I had been quiet enough all morning and the dog sleeping outside in the other half of the shed hadn't woken up, otherwise she would be whining and protesting for someone to come out and keep her company. I could hear the cats meowing quietly, wanting their food topped up. They knew it was too early!\n\nIgnoring the soft mewling coming from the other side of the door, I scanned through the channel guide for my favourite program, it was on pretty much every day since it was a revival of the original show, but with a different storyline and set a little bit further into the future. Spotting it and taking a mental note of the time it was on and the inforrmation about the episode, I turned off the TV, happy knowing that the episode shown today wasn't going to be a repeat, but an all new episode. I hadn't seen the preview yet so I made another mental note to try and catch the preview in the commercials when everyone was out of the house.\n\nDashing into the kitchen, I made myself a nutella sandwich for breakfast, grateful that it wasn't winter otherwise the nutella would have frozen solid in the cupboard. If it was, I'd have to microwave it to melt it down to spreading consistency. I needed to hurry otherwise I was going to miss seeing the sunrise in it's full glory. But I also needed to stay very quiet.\n\nWith my sandwich in hand, I opened the door slowly so it wouldn't squeak. The dog excitedly jumped about on the single step outside the door, the rest of the stairs quite a way down from where I was. Shushing her and ignoring the patronizing gaze of the cats staring at the sandwich in my hand, I made my way down the stairs, past the outdoor tables and furniture, cigarette butts, beer cans and bottles and wine glasses scattered on the tables. On another table were chocolate wrappers, two big plastic bottles of nearly finished juice and lemonade. Schwepps Lemonade to be precise, my favourite brand. Only that lemonade was the fizziest of all. Opening the heavy metal corrugated iron door, I let the dog shoot out into the open outdoors first then stepped out. Tossing my bread crusts over the fence bordering the paddocks, I made my way barefooted across the rough concrete before stepping onto the soft, dewy grass.\n\nThe cool dew on the grass seeped through the soles of my feet and awakened my senses, I gasped and tensed up from the cold dew, laughing as I gazed around. Looking behind me, in the apex of the hills behind me, the sun had just peeped through. I estimated the time to be around 5.45am. The whole place was silent and I wondered if I was the only one awake in the entire valley right now. I ran through the grass, past the large vegetable garden to my right towards the big oak tree in front of me, a lone wood and rope swing dangling down from it.\n\nGrabbing the ropes of the swing, I twisted it and sat down on it, pushing my legs off the ground with such enthusiasm, and launched myself high into the branches of the tree. Sunlight filtered through and dappled between the vivid green leaves, I smiled.\n\nLetting myself fall through the air, I let the swing come to a gradual stop and gazed out into the paddock on my right and turned my head to the road on my left. Looking back at the paddock, I saw the 11 cows waking up and gingerly eating the grass. One of the jet black calves, a rarity for us since most of our cows were reddish-brown, was munching on a glistening clump of fresh grass. The calf was covered in dew, the water droplets glistening in the sharp morning sun. I stared at the scene, forcing myself to look for as long as I could so that it would burn into my memory. It was such a peaceful scene.\n\nTaking a breath in, I looked out in front of me and saw my house below, the blue corrugated metal roof glistened in the sunlight, small wafts of steam beginning to evaporate. I knew that inside was my Mum's shop, and in the only spare room in there were my two stepbrothers who were going to sleep in quite late. They were here visiting for the summer, like they did every summer ever since my parents met four years ago.\n\nI wondered what this year was going to be like. I was turning 11, starting intermediate school and my birthday was still quite a way away, but Christmas was just the next day, and then New Years pretty much straight after. Grasping the ropes of the swing again, I launched myself off the ground again and smiled, enjoying the crisp, fresh summer air and the beauty of the morning.\n\nThe summer of 2008/09 was the best summer of my life. I played endlessly with my imagination into the wee hours of the morning, stayed up all night in front of bonfires regaling stories made up between myself, my brothers and two good family friends, walked up the steepest paddock and lay down, gazing at the stars and exclaiming with others whenever a shooting star was spotted or a strange oddity. I swam in the river all day until the sun set and the water was beginning to get cold, I played with the others amongst the trees, plants, and flowers of my Mum's gigantic garden, engrossed in our imaginations. I baked and ate food, coming up with strange inventions and eating them until we vomited. The worst idea had to be when we decided to have a sausage, raspberry jelly and vanilla ice-cream all mixed together, like a fancy meal laid out on a plate but it tasted foul. My brothers would sneakily grab the slug guns and hand it to us but keeping my stepfather's expensive but good quality gun for themselves, me being too small to hold the gun properly so I often ended up carrying all the bullets. We would always walk into the bush surrounding the place, passing by the bank where the gloworms lived, and shot possums and rats well into the early hours of the morning. The adults didn't supervise us much and we were left to roam as we pleased, knowing our boundaries but hiding the things we were not supposed to do.\n\nIt was my dying wish to return to this summer and re-live it before continuing on into the afterlife.\n\n2008/09.", "My bed was wet. I hadn't wet it with my own fluids, but had set down my water bottle without capping it. The sun was blinding, because it was the middle of the afternoon, but the warmth didn't seem to penetrate the glass of my window, and my legs huddled together awkwardly away from the dampness. I was sick, and I had a high fever, but I recover the next day. I had fallen asleep on the damp mattress because nobody responded when I called because Dad had music on and I was too tired to get up. Mom would be mad. She is and she moves me to her bed.\n\n\nMy shelf is full of books. We give them to my little cousin. Across the room is a pile of stuffed animals. We throw them away. There is a little alien shaped stain in my hardwood floor that used to scare me at night. It fades.\n\n\nI don't feel weak, so I get up and go into the hallway. My brother's door is open, and his computer is running, but nobody is there. He gets a job in Ohio. I look in the living room. My dad isn't there either, though usually he would be getting lessons prepared for teaching me. I swich to public school. My cat is nowhere to be seen. He gets run over by a car.\n\n\nThe front door is wide open. I step outside, and there's a garden, but it doesn't have flowers. It has a long, long track that goes round in circles and squares and ellipses. It rises and it falls and it paints and it twirls. It goes over the house and down the chimney and out the windows and through the streets. There is a little train on it, and it chugs diligently along the rails. At the center of it is my grandfather, watching as it goes round and round. He dies today. He smiles at me and beckons me over so I sit by him and he holds me and he shows me the wheels and the engines and the bridges and the towers and the people and the smoke and the air and the world and we laugh and cry and live and die as we wait for the next day to come.\n" ]	2
	[WP] A depressed and suicidal man starts to take up incredibly dangerous hobbies in order to die doing something unimportant. Over the years, he's inadvertently grown to be pretty good at those pastimes.	[ "My life, it would seem, is a farce. Every event has been meticulously designed to force me down further into my depression. The past year hadn't been kind to me. In October, my mum passed away, leaving my family broken but me especially. In my mental absence, my fiancée found her needs satisfied by someone else.\n\nIn my efforts to delay the constant ache inside me, I could usually be found in the nearest pub, nursing a hangover from the night before and starting on my first beer of the morning.\n\n\"Christ, Jimmy, do something\" my eldest brother said to me after carting me home from abtwo day bender at my main haunt. \"Do more than drink yourself until an early grave.\"\n\nWell, Lenny's word had struck a chord within me. Drinking would take too long to kill me. Finding something completely reckless and dangerous could be the answer I had been seeking. I didn't want to be remembered for the safe, unappealing man I had been.\n\nA dangerous hobby would do. Except, for an unexplained reason, all my collected hobbies seemed to backfire. Instead of perishing, I discovered on had talent to those killer hobbies. All I wanted to do was die, yet I was still alive. Surface rock climbing, hang gliding. I had tried everything and was still alive, not for lack of trying.\n\nAll I wanted was to die and instead, I practically became a hobbies god.\n\n", "I mean Im Travis Pastrama, for god's sake! International chef and daredevil, making chilli curry rice at 30,000 feet while jumping off an airplane with a cooking guide disguised as a paper machete parachute. Who would have known that I revolutionized physics and dynamic propulsion? Who?\n\nIt was I, Travis Bastrama, who didn't know who he was until he found himself and kept changing his name to make it apparent that he was failing. \n\n\"Every time I fail, I will change a letter of my name. Its the only way that people will laugh at me and push me over the edge of suicide\"\n\nTravis Bostrama, didn't really care about what people thought, while boxing a kangaroo in his boxers. Travis Boptrauma, really didn't.\n\nJarvis Bostrauma, wasn't having any of it today. He needed to be brought to the light and then fight it off with cancerous sticks of pure nicotine pleasure. I mean, 10,000 cigerettes in 10 days? Who would have known Jarvin Bostraumb was a biological anamoly. \n\n---\n\n\"Where am I?\" \n\n-- The Saharan Jungle. What is your name?\n\n\"Jarblam Bosswinkle.\" I think\n\n-- Do you have amnesia sir? \n\n\"No, I haven't been able to keep a track of my name yet\"\n\n-- Nurse, take him to the psychiatric ward\n\nIt was there that I found the light, and I found inner peace and happiness, strapped with a suit that hugged me like my mother never did growing up\n\n\"Lethal injection, please. I don't want to live anymore\"\n\nWhat? Travis I don't understand. Don't you want to live now that you've found happiness?\n\n\"Lexi can twerk her ass to 7M views on Youtube, and I'm sitting here talking to you about happiness. I need to watch that video now!\"\n\nHow will a lethal injection help you Travis.\n\n\"My Final Wish!\"\n\nThere he lay. Travis Pastrami, failed one last time due to bad internet connection, failing to watch his favourite Youtube artist Lexi perform her gyrations infront of unsuspecting children in street parks. \n\nzzzzzz-\n\nStop! \n\nWhat is it Nurse? \n\n--Sir, the media is outside the prison compound\n\n\"Whaaa haa?\", said Travis\n\n--Sir, the media wants to interview this young man, who's last wish was to watch a Lexi video on Youtube. Its a huge PR thing now, and the media is going crazy for this scoop. We have to let them interview him. \n\nOK\n\nAnd so there we have it, Lexi Pantera sitting on the lap of a strapped Travis Pastrana, hiding his boner inside his strapper suit of armour, wishing that he was dead a long ago, but now being the source of inspiration to millions. Barack Obama released him on humanitarian grounds, and now he's sitting at home writing a book based on his life. \n\n\"The End\"\n\n\"That's what I;ll call it\", said Travis. \n\nAnd the author's name? Chuckled Travis's agent. \n\n\"Poop stain, Butt Lash\"\n\nTHey all twerked happily ever after. See kids some dreams do come true.\n\nVideo for reference and stuff -https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jlkBaEe2Mkk", "It's odd how it began. One drunken morning I decided that I was done, I've had enough. I've given it my all, and now I can move onto... something else, even if it would be nothing, it would still be better than this. \n\nStumbling over to the medicine cabinet with one eye open to keep the room from spinning completely out of control, with vodka bottle in hand, I reached for the ambien. 'Oh hey, I'm doing a shot of pills now' the somber thought crossing my mind. Tilted my head back, inhaled, swallowed the pills, chased with vodka, slowly exhaling I stared at myself in the mirror. Eyes red and tears streaming down my face.\n\nThat was the last thing I remembered of that week. Next moment I can recall, I'm standing all dressed up in a lobby of some office. I don't think I was surprised, I was still feeling numb, maybe I still am, maybe this is a dream that coma patients have, or the white room some people experience before death. \"Thank you\" said the receptionist, \"we look forward to seeing you Monday!\". \n\nInstinctively I smile and nod, having been detached from reality for so long, you learn to put on a mask right quick, otherwise people question you. Whether you're alright, or if something is bothering you. No one really wants to know though, most of them just want to feel good about themselves for pretending to care, which is fine. You can't judge them for that. Having a person unload all their ills and worries on you is taxing, no point in stressing out other people when they definitely don't want to deal with your shit. \n\nGetting my bearings, I head for the glass doors that seem to lead outside. I cross the threshold, and my mask breaks, I can no longer pretend to be numb. The anxiety sets in, I'm on a busy city street, unfamiliar with my surroundings and surrounded by people. My skin crawls and I need to escape. Walking at a brisk pace down the street, I try to make sense of what happened and where I ended up, but it doesn't. I feel even worse, I want to crouch, and scream, and cry. I jump into moving traffic. \n\nMy eyes are closed and I feel weightless, relaxed, wind blowing past me. Wind blowing past me much faster than it should be. I open my eyes and I'm falling towards the earth. My hands are cold. Another figure appears in front of me wearing a jumpsuit and a parachute. They're smiling and waving. I try to focus on them but I can't keep my eyes open, I'm falling too fast and the wind stabs at my face.\n\nwill finish later*", "Trent was beloved by his entire community. Not a single person could speak ill of him. He was perceived as the wise guru, constantly helping others and trying his best to make everyones' lives better. The whole town had no clue how badly he wanted to kill himself.\n\nSelflessness is seen as a mostly desirable trait. Trent was just about as selfless as they came. He cared so much for everybody else that he barely had any time for himself. Everyone just assumed he was a happy man, altruistic types usually are. Trent was an extreme case though. Trent would feel compelled to help others far into the expense of his own wellbeing. His desire to take his own life was borne from this resilient impediment to his own happiness.\n\nSo when Trent put the gun to his head, staring down that sweet barrel of freedom, he thought how his suicide would impact the town. Most in his position would just shrug off these imposing thoughts and squeeze the trigger. Trent was a different case, with tears welling at his eyes, Trent knew he couldn't do this to all the people who loved him. Once again, Trent did what was best for his community at his own detriment.\n\nHe was no fool. The temptation of being dead was too great for Trent and he quickly found a suitable loophole. He knew that his suicide would cause the community to blame themselves. Whereas in the case of an accidental death, Trent's life would be celebrated in happy retrospect. \n\nTrent started engaging in some of the more risky past times. His first endeavor was fire fighting. When things got rough, our boy Trent got the call. Stories of his fearlessness spread quicker than the fires he doused. When buildings were deemed too unstable to enter, Trent would barge in, invigorated by the prospect of a fiery tomb. Trent remained unconquered by the flames.\n\nTaking long walks through neighbouring bear country became a regular event for Trent. When he finally stumbled upon a bunch of cubs he knew he had done it. This was surely it. The furry, nubile cubs nosed him suspiciously. Trent bent down and started playing, the purity of the experience was refreshing. He barely flinched when the inevitable bone chilling roar filled the surrounding meadow. He was face to face with a vicious, primal mother grizzly bear. Saliva oozing between her exposed teeth, she was prepared to kill. Trent locked eyes, exhaled slowly and willfully accepted his fate. He had never felt such peace in his life. Confused by his nonchalance, mother grizzly cautiously backed away. \n\nThe next few years saw Trent continue his suicidal activities. Eventually he grew tired of them, turns out sky diving and lion taming lose their appeal when you can welcome death like an old friend. Trent never figured out how to make himself happy. The closest he got was when he thought he was about to die. What he did learn was how to be courageous, Trent was no longer the man too afraid to take his own life." ]	4
	[WP] Today is the Opposite Day. Turn the world on it's head! Oh, it doesn't have one? Well, now it does.	[ "I was holding the compass, and I had the map in my pack. If anybody was going be blamed for getting us lost, it was going to be me--and lost is exactly what we were. Really, it was just the blaming that was left. I suppose that there are a number of other discomforts that come from being lost in the woods, but I hadn't really gotten that far. I was just trudging along, compass-in-hand like nothing was wrong because I didn't yet know how to break it to everyone else. I was kind of hoping for some great cataclysm to come along--something so huge that when I later admitted that we were lost everybody would just laugh. But after several minutes of hiking it was looking increasingly likely that I was going to have to face the music.\n\nI had finally gathered the courage to say, \"hold up guys, I think something is wrong.\" And that's when it happened--my cataclysm actually came. I was probably the first to notice that something was actually wrong when my compass switched directions. I looked around, confused, and saw sparks jumping upward from the tips of the grass. As I searched for the words to express just what was wrong I was again spared from having to do so by the lightning. I don't know where it struck, but it was close. Dazzled, I blinked several times and thought about quiet everything sounded after the initial crack of thunder.\n\nThe other scouts were saying something now, but it was like my ears were packed with cotton. I tried to shrug off my backpack because it didn't seem like carrying it anymore really mattered, but it wouldn't fall. I'm not sure how long I spent like this--squirming against the straps, partially deaf and temporarily blind from the flash--but the transition back was pretty abrupt. The muffled sound gave way to a loud ringing and distant thunder in all directions. Once I blinked my vision back into usefulness, I saw that I was falling--upward. And so was everybody else, along with large clumps of dirt, rocks, and the occasional tree. I could see the cars all falling away from the trail head, still in tight formation. \n\nI'm not sure what was holding the rest of the earth together now that gravity was reversed, but it didn't seem like it was going to last. Loud pops and groans came up from the planet below and large cracks began to form across the landscape. Somewhere along the way I had picked up a little rotation, and as the world receded from view I think I saw a new crack form that made the whole thing kind of look like a face.\n\nThe air was getting thin, and tiny specks began to dance across my vision. The last thing I remember before blacking out is thinking that the sun looked bigger than I was used to it being.\n\nNow, I don't know whether it was the lack of oxygen that killed me, or whether I lasted long enough for the exploding sun to catch up with me, and I don't know what happens when you die on any other day, but I can tell you this: when you die on opposite day you sort of... don't. I don't know where my body is either, but there is this definite sensation of me just floating along out here. I think it has been a long time, because I've been watching the stars go out.\n\nSomething changed recently though. I came across that old compass of mine, floating along out here. The plastic housing was spinning madly, but the needle was fixed steady on the brightest point in the changing sky. I was never one for astronomy, so I couldn't say which one it was. Anyway, while the compass was passing through my vision, I watched it switch for a second time--now pointing away from the light. There was a jolt across all of the objects I could see (asteroids and such) and now I have the feeling that \"down\" is the direction that things are falling in." ]	1
	[WP] So, you think you can kill a God?	[ "Vetrix awoke with a start, he came crashing back to the hard earth from a murky world of blood, smoke, and screams. The wizened seer stood above him, his sightless eyes questing for nothing in particular. \"It is ready\", he said flatly. \nVetrix rolled the pile of furs and skins that had served as his bed back, but before he could stand the seer was gone. He sat for a moment and peered about the hovel, the dim shadows cast by a weakening hearth flame giving some unspoken menace to the air. The god-folk had always made him uneasy.\n\nSunlight seared his eyes as they adjusted from the darkness of the seers home. It was a beautiful day, early spring, with a hint of chill still in the air and the first shoots of green making their way up from the earth. The glade that surrounded them was serene, and something about that seemed wrong to him. Three years he had lived with only a burning hole in his chest, an ache that never seemed to dull. Three years past all that he knew had come to ruin. His kin slaughtered to the smallest child. His clan, the Vetri, venerable and steadfast, had been nearly wiped clean from the earth. The stones and ramparts of their ancient hillfort were overrun then forced to bear silent witness to the horrors unleashed by a conquering army.\n\nAll of it he had seen first hand. He had stood on the walls, had fought shield to shield with his brothers, smelled the smoke of his fathers hall burning and prayed. Fervently, desperately, he had prayed to the clan god, their patron Oberon, \nfor deliverance or at least the courage to die well. Neither of those things were given to him. They were crushed, countless sons of the many families of their clan were cut down. Worst of all he had fled. He could not recall much of that wild flight, only flashes of sights, distant sounds, and faint smells.\n\nThe months that followed he cared not to recall. As a wraith he had wandered his peoples lands, forgotten and forlorn, he had stolen from the homesteads of his conquerors and slept in the brush like a beast. An ember had took flame in his \nheart, where had their god been? They had observed all the rites, kept his day holy, and in the end he and countless others had begged for aid. In his mind only one thing could explain it, Oberon had forsaken them. As a boy his father had \ntaught him to be devout in his worship of the gods, the gods of the land, the gods of the sky, the sea, and most of all the god of their folk. How was it fair then that Oberon deserted them, deserted him, in their hour of need. \n\nThree years, three years of purpose, of questing. He would kill a god. Vengeance would be exacted for Oberon's callousness. Now this peaceful glade seemed somehow wrong, a day with purpose this terrible should be blanketed in rain and shaken by tempest. A bony hand rested on his shoulder, stirring him from his thoughts. Vetrix turned to face the seer, slight, pale, and dressed in rags it stuck him as somehow fitting that someone so piteous held the secret to the death of a god. \n\n\"The rites have been performed, the pacts made, and the place is ready. I have shown you the way to the site, I cannot follow you nor aid you from here.\" The seer turned from him and started back toward his home then paused. \"There is no thing given without another being taken and nothing taken without something given. Think on this as you go. This cannot undo your grief\" the see said over his shoulder.\n\n-------------------\nI have to get some sleep but if anyone is interested I will wrap this up tomorrow.", "Bindusara looked out from the fort tower staring at the Macedonian Camp, gripping his bow ready for the battle to begin. The young ambitious solider showed no fear even when the men around him wept and cried, unlike them he did not fear the undefeated Alexander, he wanted to kill him. \n\nHe stood for hours glaring at the white gilded tent in the centre of the enemy camp, finally he saw his prey. Alexander the Great stormed from the flaps of his tent, looking flustered and angry, as he mounted Busephalus, his faithful horse he scanned the fort and saw this one Mallian solider staring at him determinately, with murder in his eyes. That look alone spurred Alexander to act against his advisors wishes. \n\nHe galloped to the siege workshop and single handedly lifted a scaling ladder in one hand while unsheathing his glimmering sword. The Macedonian men seeing their leader running alone towards the enemy walls and immediately mobilised, they gathered their weapons and charged to his support. \n\nAs Bindusara looked down to nock an arrow on his bow, Alexander sprinted towards the wall a short distance from Bindusaras position. Looking up he quickly released his mistake, he had underestimated the speed of the enemy king, Alexander was already at the wall, scaling the ladder. \n\nThe Mallian defenders on the wall were shocked by the appearance of a single enemy soldier quickly realising it was the enemy leader they charged at him on mass. Alexander fought them off with a God like ferocity, wielding his sword like it was an extension of his arm, no man could beat him with a sword. He waited for his men to follow him, but in their rush too reach him they had broken the scaling ladders stranding them below the walls \n\nAlexander when he realised this knew that he could not stay on top of the wall alone, eventually an enemy blade would pass through his parries. So in a act of incredibly bravery and recklessness he leaped from the wall deeper into the enemy fort seeking glory. \n\nNow Bindusara saw his chance, he aimed his arrow at the king, and when Alexander looked around him, assessing his situation he caught sight of the lone archer, just at this moment as their eyes locked once more Bindusara loosed his arrow. Time seemed to slow as the arrow whistled through the air, Bindusara held his breath hoping that he had killed his prey. While Alexander made no attempt to avoid the arrow ready for a glorious death. \n\nMeanwhile his men had scaled the wall with new ladders just in time to see their king get hit. His closest body guards cried out as the arrow pieced his body and punctured his lungs. Alexander could hear his men shout with anger as they stormed the fort killing all enemies they found. \n\nWhile Hephaistion rushed to Alexanders side praying he was not dead, Ptolemy a close friend of the King stormed the tower that the arrow was shot from, climbing to the top he found the man who fired the arrow. As Ptolemy stared at Bindusara, he saw a grin appear on his face because Alexanders body was being carried from the fort in a rushed manner. Ptolemy could not control his anger and his sliced at the man, severing his left arm so he would never fire a bow again, as blood spurted across Ptolemy's face he licked his lips and knocked the man out knowing that he would make Bindusara regret his shot. \n\nWeeks passed and the Macedonian camp was troubled and uncertain, the common soldiers had no idea whether their beloved king was dead or alive. Their only joy came in the turns they took torturing Bindusara. The Mallian solider was the only survivor of that battle, but still after so much pain he did not regret his choice, he thought he had killed a king. \n\nAs the sun rose the next day, a figure appeared from Alexanders tent, covered in a cloak. This man approached Bindusara, who was chained to post next to the tent. Bindusara looked a the man wondering who was about to kill him. \n\nAs the stranger dropped the cloak, light sprung up behind him as the sun fully appeared in the sky, blinding Bindusara. But he did not need to see to know who was in front of him, he cried out in pain as he realised it was all for nothing. As he wriggled to try to free himself Alexander whispered in his ear. \"So, you thought you could kill a God?\"\n\n\n", "\"So, you think you can kill a god, huh?\" The voice asked me. It was a sound I had certainly expected a god to have bellow from his chest. But, the answer to that question was simple, and the fact I tightened my grip on my dagger probably gave the man more of an answer than any sort of spoken word would have. I felt my eyebrows lower with irritation as I looked at the being who had emitted light. He was a man who was blessed to have complete and total power over the elements. But, I wasn't afraid. No, I couldn't be. I had a lesson to teach this man. I had to show him that he was just as weak as the humans that challenged him. Well, let me rephrase that. I had to teach him that he was weaker than me, a normal human.\n\nWhile this man was not technically a god in the world of Shinelyo, he was certainly a gifted individual. He was one of the rare members of upper class society who happened to be blessed with extraordinary power. Power that was far beyond what would classify a person as a human. Though, he did appear normal in his physical appearance, the way he manipulated and used his power as a display of power made him stand out. That and the fact that he clearly believed that because he had these powers he was a god. But, his behavior proved that he was not such being. No, he wasn't because I know I could end his life. And gods, gods can't be murdered. \n\nWith a shift in my stance I prepared to strike, but apparently this god found my change in stance funny as he broke into laughter with the palm of his hand pressing into his forehead and a hand on his hip. Though, now thinking of it, perhaps it was the fact that I was a woman challenging him that made him react in such a way. \n\n\"Oh please,\" he said as he wiped away tears of laughter from his eyes. \"You really can't expect to beat me. What? Do you have some powers hidden to? Doubtful, considering you're dressed in rags.\" I looked down at my appearance, and while it wasn't as grandiose as he made himself out to be; it was still acceptable. Regardless though, I had revenge to make upon this man. No amount of rude comments would make me back down from my decision. In fact, even if it meant trading my life in order to take his, I would be willing to do so.\n\nWithout a moments thought afterwards I charged forward with my weapon. I was going to eliminate this man in the quickest way possible. A nice clean cut either across his neck or into his heart. However, in order to do that I would need to make sure to dodge. For, if I did not, he would either set me on fire or strike me down with lightning. Both things I would be able to move away from if I were agile. But, the problem with both those things was if I did not predict them or move radically I would be an easy target to hit. As such, I rolled to the side and then somersaulted forward. It appeared that my guess had been correct as a loud SNAP of lightning crashing to the ground besides me caused my ears to ring. I groaned as I shook my head in an effort to make the ringing stop. \n\n\"Bothersome worm,\" the elemental human bellowed as he moved his hands above his head where he appeared to be conjuring up the power of flame. My gaze snapped up to meet his as I hopped back onto my feet. The ringing was still bothering me, but I had to worry about that later. For now, I had to continue with my goal. I needed to seek revenge for my family that he had murdered. \n\nI moved in a circle around the man as a barrage of fireballs were cast in my direction. A few of them had collided with one another before disappearing into a small pile of ash. Running in closer as I circled him, I managed to move in behind the man. But, apparently I had underestimated the man. While I had not seen his hands, he managed to conjure up a blade of ice that he held tightly in his hand. When I had moved in to strike at him, he reacted faster and sliced right into my right bicep. A scream bubbled in my throat and I reacted poorly. I lost my momentum and toppled backwards falling onto the ground. Blood pooled out of my wound and quickly soaked my dark sleeves. \n\nI looked up to start planning my next move, but instead I was greeted with the ice blade sitting centimeters from my nose. It even had placed a small cut at the very tip.\n\n\"Let me ask you again, do you really think you can kill a god?\" I glared at the man. There was no other way for me to answer.\n\n\"Of course I fucking can,\" I spat. Saliva flew from my lips, and just as it had so did my blade from my fingertips. It soared through the air and before the god had time to react, it had pierced his neck. Before I could move out of the way though, his body plummeted forward because of the weight of gravity. His blade pierced my chest. The last few moments of my life were cold as I felt my life draining... But, they were worth it. Especially since I was able to see my husband, my mother, and my brother again in the afterlife. I was able to avenge them before, and that was all that had mattered to me." ]	3
	[WP] While exploring a remote rain forest, you discover an ancient, isolated tribe. Instead of them being way behind on technology, they are actually extremely technologically advanced.	[ "May 3, 1872.\n\nMy dearest Marianne,\n\nIt has been sixteen weeks since we departed, and the jungle grows dark. I have seen little sun for weeks through the dense tropical canopy, and a foul miasma hangs in the air. Mathewson has fallen ill with malaria. He falls in and out of consciousness and breathes with an intense labour, as though a grown man were perched atop his chest. One of our guides has lost his leg to gangrene, and we are running very low on drinkable water and foodstuffs. The rest of us fare no better - I fear I may never see you again. \n\nGod help us all.\n\nYour love,\n\nFrederick\n\n*\n\nFrederick folded the letter over and sealed it with his candle. He stuffed the letter into his drawer, with the rest of the letters he wrote but could never send. He looked over at Mathewson in his bunk. He had sweated through his shirt and soaked the canvas of his cot. He groaned quietly and rolled over onto his chest.\n\nIn the darkness of the jungle, he remembered the Battle of Sharpsburg with a strange nostalgia. The scream of a minié ball passing by his head would be a welcome occurrence if only for its familiarity. He resigned himself to his cot and eventually fell asleep to the scattered noise of the tropics.\n\n\n\n\"Captain! Captain!\"\n\nFrederick awoke with a jolt and nearly fell from his bunk. It was Migham, the expedition's diminutive cook. He sputtered, hysterical.\n\n\"Captain! We've spotted a settlement down the river!\"\n\nFrederick sprung from his bed and rushed to the boat's side so suddenly he nearly fell over. In the distance, a collection of houses could be seen at the edge of the river.\n\n\"Eden! Thank the Lord!\" Frederick swung and embraced Migham, lifting him off his feet.\n\nThe riverboat slowly churned towards the bank, and as they neared, there were two men standing there, holding what appeared to be some sort of firearm, although it was nothing Frederick had ever seen. The boat neared the dock, and Frederick moved to the edge of the boat and hailed the men.\n\nThe first man clutched his rifle closely. \n\n\"Identify yourself!\"\n\nFrederick slowly climbed from the boat as Migham and the crew looked on.\n\n\"We are an exploratory crew, from the United States of America, departed from New Orleans.\"\n\nThe two guards looked at each other with a look of mutual confusion.\n\n\"We came to find the source of the Rio Promoteo, but our situation is dire. I beg of you, please help us.\"\n\nThe second man brought his hand to his face and appeared to speak into what appeared to be a wristwatch. After a brief pause, he whispered to the first man. He turned abruptly to Frederick.\n\n\"Set your anchor and come with us.\"\n\nFrederick walked behind the two men, who had slung their weapons over their shoulders. They escorted him along a cobblestone path between brick buildings lit by flameless lanterns as people stared from shuttered windows. They arrived at a small building labeled 1461 Mirriack Ave.* and a portly old man dressed in a flower-patterned shirt and shorts opened the door.\n\n\"That'll be all, boys. I'll be all right.\"\n\nFrederick went inside and sat down on at a table in a plainly decorated room with a cooler box in the corner. The old man sat down, and the chair groaned in protest.\n\n\"It's not often we get visitors around here. My name's Paul.\"\n\n\"Frederick.\"\n\n\"What can we do for you?\"\n\n\"We are low on food and water, and my partner is deathly ill with malaria. I beg of you, please help us.\"\n\nPaul walked to the edge of the room and poured two cups of coffee and placed one in front of Frederick, who stared. It had been years since he had had coffee - clearly, this was a very wealthy man he was speaking to.\n\n\"Well, we can certainly help you there.\" Paul turned to a small metal device on the table and brought it to his ear. He mumbled some orders through his coffee, and then placed it back on the table. \"I'll have them take care of your men, but I need something from you. I need you to turn back.\"\n\n\"What? After all we've endured, we cannot turn back empty-handed! We came to study the birds of the tropics and map the Rio Prometeo, and I refuse to return a failure.\"\n\nPaul nodded. He left the room, and returned holding a thick tome in both hands. When he placed it on the table, Frederick saw the title: Birds of Paradise.\n\n\"We value our privacy. We have lived here for generations, isolated from the world. If you were to return home and reveal our existence, it would destroy our very way of life. Take this. Put your name on it. You can make your mark on science and make a fortune while you're at it. But in return, I ask that you publish this map.\"\n\nPaul handed Frederick a folded paper map that marked the river's end in a dangerous swamp 50 miles downriver.\n\n“This map is entirely wrong, it –“ Frederick began, but Paul interrupted him.\n\n“Yes, it is. I will save your brother and ensure your safe return home, but you must promise me that you will never tell a soul of what you saw here today.”\n\nFrederick paused. He eyed the book on the table and sighed.\n\n“Okay. I promise.”\n\n**\n\nAs his boat turned back and Frederick’s expedition returned home, he pored over his newly acquired tome. He turned in his chair and looked over at Mathewson, sleeping comfortably in his cot. Frederick dug into his pocket, and produced a small device. He pressed a button on the top, and the light from the screen lit up the dark cabin.\n\nSlide to unlock.*", "The forests canopy creates an eternal darkness on the floor below, making it difficult to determine how long I have been lost. I hear creatures moving in the trees above and have the sensation of being watched.\n\nI had come to the rainforests of Bornio in an attempt to observe the Kanweeke, a rare and highly elusive species of bird. They had never been photographed and I intended to make a name for myself by capturing their image on film. \n\nI had not seen the bird during my first two days of exploration and was beginning to grow concerned as the humidity was causing me to experience painful migraines. However, I decided that I would venture deeper into the forest on the third day. \n\nAnd so I did. I pressed on into the forest and documented many incredible creatures - snakes with intricate glowing patterns on their bodies and spiders that weaved webs that caught the wind and blew them around the forest. I saw a species of purple ant whose workers linked together to form a large single entity that hunted small mammals. However, there was no sign of a Kanweeke.\n\nI was all but ready to turn around and head back to camp when I heard it. The desperate, rasping mating cry of the elusive bird.\n\nExcitedly, I ran towards the call, my camera held out in front of me ready to snap. But when I got to where I believed the cry originated there was nothing to see. Then the noise would come again but from far away.\n\nI was running through the forest heading deeper and deeper into its heart, chasing a shadow. I never saw a Kanweeke and by the time I was ready to give up, I was lost. Worse still, my satellite phone was missing from my backpack. I could have sworn I packed it.\n\nAnd now I wander hopelessly lost through the giant forest. I am down to the last few drops of water in my flask. I do not even know if it is night or day. The trees rise high above me, jostling greedily for the precious sunlight, leaving little for creatures below. \n\nThe incredible humidity makes me think of hell. I have not drunk in hours. I greedily tip the flask into my mouth. The water drips slowly onto my dry tounge. It is not enough to quench my thirst and I soon collapse onto the forest floor. My eyes close. \n\nI awake in a wooden hut. My eyes are blurry but I make out a small silhouette approach my bed. \n\n\"I have removed the tumour, but you must rest. You are my guest and you are safe.\"\n\nI try to reply, to ask how I can understand him, but my voice is a grating rasp. \n\nA hand gently touches my head and my eyes close again.\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You've just been sold into slavery. However, due to a fluke of probability, your new master only orders you to do things that you would've done anyway.	[ "\"Remember: you are a dispensable and easily replaced cog in Master's money-making operation. If you work hard, and if you obey every order promptly and without question, you will continue to live. Disobey, and Master will make sure that you will spend the rest of your miserable life wishing that you hadn't.\"\n\n\"Your old names are not welcome here,\" the Chinese slaver continued. \"You are never to speak them again. You should not even think of them again. Discard them from your memory banks. If you are caught disobeying this command, Master will make sure that you spend the rest of your miserable life wishing that you hadn't. I will now assign each of you a new moniker. Your new name, and the pass-code associated with it, will be your access code to Gielinor. If you forget it, you cannot access Gielinor. And if you cannot access Gielinor, you become utterly useless to us. And should you ever become useless... well, let's just say you won't have much time to dwell on your mistake. Since it is in your best interest not to forget it, and as such, we will be tattooing the individual information on your forearm so that you do not forget it.\"\n\nMy two-line tattoo ended up reading: \"x3sdhgap38\" and \"hunter2.\" I was led by a pair of whip-wielding slavers to my work-station, and forced into an uncomfortable chair facing a high-tech desktop monitor. One of the men clicked around the screen, deftly opening a series of programs he'd doubtlessly fired up thousands of times before. The other slaver grabbed my wrist and jerked my arm upwards, reading my new name aloud, character-by-character, to his partner, who typed the sequence into the computer. Suddenly, a familiar melody began to play from the desktop speakers, and I momentarily forgot the horrors of enslavement and the throbbing pain of my new tattoo. What started as a soft, low-pitched, trilling of flutes, gradually built towards a louder and higher-pitched crescendo. Trumpets rang out, and nostalgia - the last feeling I'd ever expect to experience in a place like this - overwhelmed me. Was this the Runescape theme? Why were the slavers loading Runescape? \n\nFortunately, I didn't have to wait long for my answer. \"You, x3sdhgap38. Your assignment for today is woodcutting. It is tedious, painful, mind-numbingly boring work. Master is sick of it, which is why we purchased you. Master expects you to provide him with at least 2,000 willow logs before nightfall. If you cheat him, even by one log, Master will make sure that you spend the rest of your miserable life wishing that you hadn't. You will go through an initial tutorial teaching you the basic mechanics of your labor. Learn from this, and then get to work. Remember: 2,000 willows by nightfall. It will be repetitive and it will be laborious. It might even be painful. But fail to comply, and you'll experience something far, far worse. Now get to it.\"\n\nAs the slavers departed, leaving me and the desktop isolated in the dark room, I reflected that being captured by slavers might have been a blessing after all. Admittedly, starting over from level 3 was going to suck, but this enslavement wouldn't be so different from my day-to-day schedule anyway. Clicking on pixilated trees had long been a favorite pastime of mine. Plus, I wasn't going to have to worry about where my next meal was coming from. Nor would I have to face distractions such as work and relationships; I'd be able to concentrate entirely on the joys of tree-clicking. It's like I was hardly even a slave at all. I felt free. ", "This is fucked. I don't know how long I've been here. The concept of time was lost after the first few days. I haven't seen the sun since it went down the night I was taken.\n\nFUCK!\n\nFuck you Steve. I knew I should have stayed in bed....\n\nDRINKS ON A TUESDAY?! FUCK YOU STEVE!!\n\n\"Hello! You awake?\" snickers\n\nBitch! \"Yes... I'm awake.\" clears throat \"Good evening darling. Would you like to join me?\"\n\n\"Sorry honeybuns, I can't right now, I just wanted to look at you. Cause I can, whenever I want!\" \n\nI thought this routine would get old after awhile for her. \"Now I'm sad, won't you stay and cuddle?\"\n\n\"I'm on my way out the door! But you know I'll be back! Have a goodnight!\" snickers\n\nFUCK YOU, WHORE!!\n\n72\" by 84\", she keeps reminding me. The dimensions of a California king and my new home, for now.\n\nFour walls. One door. Two windows, one for food and the other for \"viewing\". And this FUCKING COLLAR!!!.\n\nI knew i shouldn't have dated her. This is the worst break up ever.\n\nEdit(s): Phone mistake.\n\n\n", "\"You there! Slave,\" yelled my new master, the alien Mr.Pthlib.\n\nWhen his kind invaded, we put up one hell of fight, but we still lost. Washington, Beijing, Moscow, London, all levelled within the first week. They didn't do their homework, and the concept of having an army capable of fighting without the capital was foreign, and they also didn't know that splitting the atom could unleash great destruction. They decided Portugal would be their landing point; it's still a nuclear wasteland. After a year, though, the last official army set down their arms and surrendered. The majority of the surviving population was enslaved, and that's how I ended up where I am now.\n\n\"Sit on that couch, and piss away your day on the website know as ' Reddit',\" he commanded.\n\n\"Don't do anything remotely productive,\" he continued.\n\nI shrugged, and continued my business." ]	3
In order to get into fruit heaven, you must describe how you were horribly consumed.	[WP] Fruits are really living thinking sentient beings...	[ "I....i dont even know where to begin.... I was deep into my meditation as all my kind does with all their time. High and mighty on my tree, the wind howling and rushing past my round hard body. I suddenly began to feel a great vibration, as if my life giver was being toppled or climbed upon... Thats when i felt the warmth of a touch....THE MOMENT IS NOW! Ive always thought of the magical moment when i separate from my tree, to begin my own process of growing and nurturing my kind, how foolish was i! As i was detached roughly my base, i realized this was no natural occurrence. Thats when the nightmare began. deep photosynthesis(breath) i suddenly felt the rush of air all around me followed by a painful slam into the ground. Over and over i was slammed into the ground, my hard shell holding strong, but not for much longer I imagine. Then a searing sharp pain made me realize what was happening. I was being cracked, cut..... Consumed. My body being obliterated for my lifeblood and organ lining. I felt the sharp pain, over and over until my top was exposed. They pour my liquids out, tear my protective shell off, then i get sprinkled with acid sand! It burns me down to the very fiber of my being! Following that they proceed to stab me and eat the lining of my walls while they quench their thirst with the liquids that so maintained my life, my being. I slowly start fading away..... Darkness engulfs me.... I never thought id go out like this.....This is cocoNUTS. ", "With a final crunch, the fragrant pear's life came to an end. Ana tried to look away, but couldn't--she is a banana, after all. Pam's blood dripped from the corners of the monster's mouth, before being licked up by a warm, pink tongue. I shuddered at the sight of such gore. \n\nThe creature walked to the uncharted land, where the box of moving pictures sometimes showed fruits being cut, peeled, blanched. The monster watches these with such concentration--his evil knows no bounds. Even young fruits are not spared from the horror. But the box also shows the weather of the world beyond--from sweet rain to bright, life-giving sun. Hope from the other world. I was only but a child when I saw the outdoors. Pam was raised in a greenhouse, though, with high, bright ceilings lined with rows of water-teats. She never got to taste rain. I feel sadness well up in my apple-core, and this time, I let it. We've lost so many--I can't deny myself these tears.\n\nThe grape children were silent now, and tried to huddle together for comfort--again, they could not, for they were fruits. We are inanimate, only able to speak telepathically and watch helplessly as we are consumed by those large, bipedal mammal-fruits. Such is our life. I felt Ana trying to hold back her emotions, and I decided to speak to her.\n\n\"Ana, my dear friend...\" There were brown spots beginning to form on her smooth yellow frame. I remembered a time when she was still green at the tips--all the stress had aged her so. \"Ana, what is wrong?\"\n\n\"Pomme, why?\" Her voice was filled with despair. \"I don't understand... We have done them no harm, and yet--\"\n\n\"Be silent,\" I told her. \"It... It can't be helped.\"\n\nIf she had tear-ducts, a sole tear would have dripped from the tip of her curved banana body. \"Dear Pomme, I feel so... So hopeless! What can we do?\"\n\n\"Be strong... For the grape-children, be strong.\" She would have nodded if she could, and I would have held her tightly if I had a mammal-fruit body. \"We are a fruit basket. We may be helpless, but we never lose hope. We still have each other.\"\n\nFrom the corner of my eye, I saw the mammal-fruit reenter the room. \"Please, no.\" \n\nThe grape-children let out a collective gasp. A hand reached out to me, then held me with a firm grip. I felt cool air rushing past me as I was lifted higher and higher up. Ana began to cry.\n\nI glanced back down at the grapes, at Ana. My dear, sweet, nutritious Ana. She was beautiful from this high up—she was a fine fruit, with a slender, gently curved body. What a beautiful last sight. “Thank you, Ana. I guess this is goodbye.\"\n\n\"Pomme!\"\n\n“Ana, I--” I felt a sharp pain as teeth penetrated my flesh—then nothing. \"I love you…\" My last thought was being with Ana under the sunshine, in a world where fruits like ourselves no longer had to hide." ]	2
	[WP] “My Queen, I believe the other Royals are becoming suspicious.” “Oh dear Knight. I do not fear them nor do I care for them. You are the only man I love.”	[ "I couldn't resist. I will not apologize.\n\n“My Queen, I believe the other Royals are becoming suspicious.” \n\n“Oh dear Knight. I do not fear them nor do I care for them. You are the only man I love.”\n\n\n“My Queen, the oddities in the duty roster are sure to be noticed.” \n\n“Oh dear Knight. Are you not the captain of the guard? Who else is there to notice?”\n\n\n“My Queen, please heed my warnings. Someone will find out.” \n\n“Oh dear Knight. Trust in your queen, for have you not said she is the wisest in the lands? I assure you I am indeed most clever.”\n\n\n“My Queen, I will forever defer to your wishes. I bid you farewell.” \n\n“Oh dear Knight. I do believe you will. I wish you would not leave your queen so soon.”\n\n\n“My Queen, we cannot keep doing this. My honor-” \n\n“Oh dear Knight. The heart takes precedence over all honor, and I know yours most intimately.”\n\n\n“My Queen, is that the King?!” \n\n“Oh dear Knight. He is asleep,”\n\n\n“My Queen, we cannot, the king will hear.” \n\n“Oh dear Knight. He has drunk himself into next Wednesday, it would be so boring if you were to leave before then.”\n\n\n“My Queen, if one of the maids were to-” \n\n“Oh dear Knight. Augusta was the one who brought you to my attention in the first place.”\n\n\n“My Queen, if someone else was to pass by...” \n\n“Oh dear Knight. Augusta guards the hallway better than any ten of your guards.”\n\n\n“My Queen, The King!” \n\n“Oh dear Knight. He is no stranger to falling off the bed unaided. Nothing can disturb his slumber tonight.”\n\n\n“My Queen, I do my king a great dishonor.” \n\n“Oh dear Knight. Yet for the throne, you perform a great service.”\n\n\n“My Queen, you twist my words around like they were children's toys.” \n\n“Oh dear Knight. You sound as if you are a stranger to playing around.”\n\n\n“My Queen, you know my heart is only ever yours, but my vows-” \n\n“Oh dear Knight. Do the vows you have made to me mean that little in front of those to the king?”\n\n\n“My Queen, your words wound me most deep.” \n\n“Oh dear Knight. I did not mean to offend. It is just such a cold night that I find myself desiring my warm knight.”\n\n\n“My Queen, that was horrible.” \n\n“Oh dear Knight. I could have you beheaded this instant.”\n\n\n“My Queen, your wit is unmatched across the kingdoms.” \n\n“Oh dear Knight. You do flatter me so. It sets my heart aflutter. Have a listen.”\n\n\n“My Queen!” \n“Oh dear Knight!”\n \n\nEdit: Line spacing.", "O' reining Queen, my one and all,\n\nYour kindred know the truth,\n\nAlas, of virtue, we befall,\n\nOf ever lasting youth.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWe must not wait, not one more moon,\n\nThe whole world will accept\n\nOur endless, fervent, wondrous tune,\n\nFor both our hearts have swept.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWe'll run a way, we'll take the mount!\n\nWe'll start again astray!\n\n\"Oh Knight, my love has thee surmount, \n\n\"What will my husband say?\"" ]	2
	[WP]: You have always wanted to tell the village children how much better life was before the apocalypse, but not knowing of any better, they seem perfectly happy.	[ "I can hear them. They talk about me. They say that my mind is going, that the radiation has finally done the job it should have done two hundred years ago. I'm going feral. I can feel it, gnawing on the edge of my mind, scraping and clawing like a ravenous animal. The urges grow, and every day I struggle to fight against them. Only one thing keeps me going.\n\nIt must be today. I must tell them today.\n\nI rang the bell in the center of our meager settlement, gathering as many of the settlers as I could. They were young, too young to have to experience the vast horrors that this world held. They needed to know, to be prepared for the world they would have to face without me. I was the oldest by over a hundred years at least. The rest of them, they were kids compared to me.\n\n\"I'm sure you're all wondering why I've called you here today,\" I said.\n\n\"You're going to tell us what happened to the world,\" one of the youngsters replies.\n\nI smile and nod. The animal grows nearer to my psyche, but I hold it at bay. I had to finish this. I had to get through it. Then it could take me. It could do whatever it wanted, just let me get through this first.\n\n\"I was there the day it happened,\" I said. \"The day the bombs dropped.\"\n\n\"What was it like?\" another young one asked. \"Were you scared?\"\n\n\"I was and I wasn't,\" I explained. \"You see, children, by the day the bombs dropped we expected it to happen. Any day could have been the last. We spent years preparing for it. The government built gigantic Vaults, capable of holding hundreds of thousands of people to try and save humanity in the event of the inevitable.\"\n\n\"Why are you telling us about this now?\" one of them asked.\n\n\"Because... you all know that I'm old, and my mind isn't what it used to be. I know that you've all made a wonderful life here in this settlement, living off the land and making do with the trade caravans,\" I said with a sigh. \"It won't last. Sooner or later you'll draw a larger trouble in. Raiders, super mutants, and other Wasteland creatures will attack, but that's not the most important part of this.\"\n\n\"And what is?\" a young girl next to me said.\n\n\"Humanity has always done everything it can to ensure the destruction of itself and everything around it,\" I said, grimacing. \"No matter what happens, never lose sight of the fact that the past should stay in the past, but never forget it. You can be doomed to repeat the mistakes of our ancestors this way.\"\n\nI paused for a moment. I could feel it getting closer and closer, the beast inside clawing towards my mind. I shoved it back for a brief reprieve and coughed loudly before continuing.\n\n\"You see, the world wasn't always like this. Things used to be better. We had all of the amenities of a true high class society. Robot butlers, nuclear fusion powered cars, and quiet down home American life.. We had the village that raised children right,\" I said. \"But we also had paranoia, fear, and injustice. We were scared of our neighbors, scared that they were a Chinese spy. The village was torn down. It no longer existed. And then the bombs dropped.\"\n\n\"What happened after that?\" the young girl next to me asked.\n\n\"Chaos. The world descended into a whirling cone of despair, hate, and pain that has continued for nearly two hundred years. I can still remember the heat of the blasts on my skin, smooth as it was then. I can remember how I huddled underneath the rubble, struggling to survive,\" I explained. \"I also remember when my skin first started to flake. It was impossible to believe, but I didn't always look this hideous.\"\n\n\"You're not hideous,\" the girl next to me said with a laugh.\n\n\"Thanks, precious, but there are plenty of folk out there who'd disagree with you,\" I said. \"Plenty of folk who think ghouls like me are menaces, ticking time bombs waiting to happen.\"\n\nThose folk were right, of course. I was a ticking time bomb. I could feel it even now, inching ever closer. I was going to lose it and soon. Not yet. I couldn't yet. I had to finish my tale.\n\n\"Enough about that though,\" I said. \"When the world ended, when life took a big nose dive off into the deep unknown, I realized something important. We must learn from our past, embrace what happened and do our best to prevent it from happening again. I'm asking all of you to do that for me.\"\n\n\"Why?\" one of the settlers asked.\n\n\"Because I... I won't...\" I stuttered. I took a deep breath before continuing. \"I won't be around much longer. You must promise that when I am gone, you won't mourn me. You'll do what is necessary, and move forward.\"\n\n\"We promise,\" the girl next to me said.\n\n\"Good, because I... I...\" I started to say.\n\nI couldn't finish my sentence. The animal had closed in. It had grabbed a hold of my psyche and shredded it to pieces. I slumped over onto the ground next to the young girl. She screamed, as I knew she would. I placed both of my hands in front of me and pushed myself up. My eyes were glazed over, and I knew it was time. My mind was slipping away and there was no way I could hold it back this time.\n\nThey'd do the right thing, they'd kill me and bury me. I knew they'd do it, and then... well then they could focus on the future, and move on.\n\nI lurched forward towards the young girl, hearing the click of a rifle being cocked.\n\n-BANG-\n\n-----------\n\nMy first /r/WritingPrompts post! Yes I took a bit of a liberty by utilizing the setting of Fallout for this, but I like how it came out. Short, sweet, and kind of fun. I write mostly fanfiction in the Fallout: Equestria realm, but I am hoping to continue building up my writing chops here and there by participating in some of these.\n\nThanks for reading!\n\n-V", "Reminds me of Rot & Ruin, except the kids there knew it sucked.\n\n--\n\nI sit on the porch of the small apartment building. It's in the roughest part of town. Sandra died four years ago when the apocalypse came, but I never mention her anymore. \n\nThe twins I babysit are playing outside. Sometimes they ask me to tell a story about the time before. I never tell them a really happy story, no matter how much I want to. Let them live in the blissful ignorance they've always lived in.\n\nThe twins were two or three when the first evils came. \n\nThey're playing tag. \"I'm going to grow up and hunt Evils,\" Eli says. His sister grins.\n\n\"We can be a team,\" she replies. \"We could be each other's sidekicks.\"\n\nYeah, killing people infected by the Four Horsemen is too much for them, I guess. But killing someone overtaken by Pride or Lust is easier.\n\nSandra was killed by an infected person. At least she doesn't roam, still.\n\nI watch Eli and Madison before calling them in for PB&J.", "Where were you when the war started?\n\nFrom what my grandfather told me this was a question he asked and answered a thousand times in his day. His war, World War II as I grew up calling it, was the single biggest war in human history there were other wars in his life time but none ever shook the world as much. Until my war. \n\nHe asked “where were you when the war started?” I asked “Where were you when the world ended?”\n\nI can tell you where I was. I was in school. I was 22 years old and just trying to finish up a degree in Sociology and Psychology from a small but well respected university in the southern part of what used to be the United States of America. I was a short fat boy, who in four years of college had done a fair amount to prepare for a live in academia. And I had done nothing to prepare me for what was to come. \n\nHere’s the thing, the world didn’t end in one fell swoop. There was no A-Bomb, no plague not even any zombies. It’s just that gradually, within a couple months, we started to see the end civilization. Perhaps I am being over dramatic. I guess you might more accurately say that after a string of natural disasters and some very unfortunate mishandling of relief the entire world economy collapsed and, without money to drive production of goods and services, Chaos reigned. \n\nWhoever said “the world would end, not with a bang but with a whimper?” let me be the first to tell you that guy was right. \n\nI guess I’m writing this journal for my grandchildren’s grandchildren. Maybe by the time they read this the world will be back to the way it was. Or maybe not. Maybe it wasn’t much better that way to begin with. I guess you might look at this as a history of our people \n\nI’m an old man now, a relic of the time before I want to leave you all with a bit of my “wisdom” if you can call it that. \n\nFirst and most importantly, some of the things you think you need are not important at all. I once showed some of you my old phone, the black thing in the plastic case with the screen that lights up when we get some electricity. That thing is not just a novelty, back in my day it connected me to the internet which was like nothing you have ever seen. It could do so much. I had access to so much and I barely used it. If I wanted to know something. I could probably learn it though the internet on my phone. If I wanted to talk to sooner I could use that phone to talk to them on the other side of the world. If I need to do math, like how we have to figure out measurements for when we build things, I could type numbers into my phone and as long as I typed them in right the answer was never wrong. If I didn’t know where I was all I had to do was pull up the map on that phone and it showed me a blue dot on a picture of the earth. If I wanted to know where something else was, I just typed it in and the phone showed me a red dot and directions from the blue dot to it. Seriously, the smart phone was awesome. \n\nSecond, the whole is better than the sum of its parts. The amount of work you can accomplish in a group or in some confederation of groups, dwarfs what you can do alone. When I grew up we were taught something called pencil theory. This is going to make a difference to you guys eventually because there are a finite number of pencils and pen left on this earth and one day we will run out. The theory was basically that no one man could make a pencil without the world economy. He would need wood, in this case from a balsa tree but I guess any tree can do in a pinch. He would cut from that tree, two half cylinders with grooves on the flat sides. These halves were to be joined together around a stick of graphite, which had to be mined from the earth and formed into an exact shape. The wood and graphite would be glued together then painted to help protect and maintain the pencil. Then rubber, most likely farmed on another continent, would be melted down and formed into small cylinders the width of the pencil and fastened on with metal, which had to be mined and smelted and formed into exactly the right size. The thing to take away from this is that no person could do all of that for a pencil. Sure someone could dedicated all of his time to traveling around the world and amassing the tools and resources to do it but in the end all that work would be for a pencil. On the other hand people from all over the world bought and sold things making it easy to create better things all over the world. You can build houses in this village and they are good, strong houses, but we could build stronger, more comfortable houses, when we all worked together. A far more important thing you should focus on is medicine. We had great medicine and it made every dangerous part of our lives much safer. \n\nHaving just told you all it is important to work together to make things as a group, I think it is also important for everyone to know how to do most things, at least well enough to get by if they need to. When we started this village some of us were worth very little to the group. I was one of those people, I had to learn to hunt, learn to fish, build a fire, dress a wound, repair a car, get a generator working, then when the gas ran out I had to learn to ride a horse, cut fire wood, cook meals, shoot a bow, make a bow. Everything you do now, I could not do when I was a grown man. It is important that each of you be prepared in case you find yourself cut off from the group, or in a group that cannot do something you need done. \n\nThe last thing I will leave you with is sunscreen. We had this thing, it was a white cream, and no one I know knows how to make it. You could rub it all over your skin and you would not get sunburns. Someone should figure out how to make it for the tribe because I think you would all agree that not having to wear long sleeves and pants out in the fields in midsummer would be a true improvement. \n\nI wanted to tell you all this but I just don’t think you are ready to hear it. We live wonderful lives here. Every family has a house in our village. We wake up in the mornings and accomplish the day’s work, we live our lives in a way that most people I was born with would never have dreamed of. I hope that when you are old enough to read this you realize, as I do, that we must combine the best parts of my past, with the values of your present, to make the best future for your children’s children. \n", "I truly do not know why they keep me around.\n\nI am old. Far too old to spend my days hunting prey, as my lungs fail me too quickly. Too old to dig for roots, nuts, and berries, for my joints are old and cause me pain. I am too old to carry my own weight around the village - though it pains my inner heart to call these shacks of sticks a 'village'. I think they only keep me alive because of the knowledge that I once had.\n\nI am the last of us to remember the world that was. The world that was, before the missiles came down and changed everything with the destructive fury of a thousand suns.\n\nBut what do the children of today know of missiles? How could they even comprehend the idea of launching something into space, only for it to come down and annihilate square miles? How do you explain atomic fission to a child who's concept of technology ends with a bow and arrow?\n\nFor many years we wandered, looking for shelter, for food, for water. Staying wherever we could for as long as we could, travelling from place to place. The group I had initially been with died off; I was the youngest when the world changed, barely seventeen, and now I am the only one left. I became the keeper of knowledge, for those born into the world of the nomad had no reason to learn to read and write. After all, what would they write with?\n\nAs we wandered, I told them stories of the world of old; they understood some of what I said, as in those days we still visited the warehouses to search for food and supplies. They saw the empty grocery stores, the abandoned shopping malls. But while they could understand the scale, they did not truly understand what had been lost. To a certain extent, I was jealous.\n\nEventually we settled and began to build anew. The children who I watched grow up soon had children of their own. I truly envy these children, as they know nothing of the world of old. This is the only life they know, will ever know, and there is no way to make them understand the past.\n\nThey know what it is to be thirsty; they could never understand what it would be to have taps with fresh water directly in the home without having to walk to the river. They know what it is to be hungry; they will never know what a pizza is, much less how you used to be able to tap a few buttons on a piece of plastic and have one delivered to you within fifteen minutes. They are familiar with boredom, but how could they understand the internet, video games, or television?\n\nThe children are able to see the ruins of the great cities, but the true meaning of what they see eludes them. Perhaps they will never understand, and eventually the fallen skyscrapers will simply become part of the landscape, to be rediscovered in millennia the way we once rediscovered the cities of Ancient Egypt. When I tell them stories of the past, they treat it as a sort of fairy story, with heroes doing impossible things. If only they could understand.\n\nI have done what I can to help bring humanity back from the brink of the abyss. I showed them how to make fire, how to grow crops, how to make spears and bows and arrows for hunting. I passed along what science I could - or at least, whatever I could that they could understand. Our village is surviving, and growing whenever other groups stumble across us. When I think of what we lost, I am sad. But when I remember that we did not lose everything, I am able to smile.\n\nI have done what I can. And now, it is my time to rest." ]	4
	[WP] Humans are actually an ancient, non-Earthling race that was placed on Earth millennia ago because, out of the trillions of planets that could support human life, Earth was the best hiding place. Our desire to visit the stars has inadvertently drawn the attention of what we were hidden from.	[ "I often find myself watching the stars for hours on end. My mother used to say that I would grow tired of looking at the same stars every night... She also used to tell me to \"get my ass inside or I'd catch on cold\". My mother was often wrong. \n\nMy friends make fun of me because I know every constellation by heart and can point to where each one is in the sky at any time of year even in broad daylight. I sometimes feel like I know the night sky better than the back of my hand, cliche I know but I don't pull all nighters looking at the back of my hand, so one night when a new star showed up i didn't believe it. I told myself I was being crazy, that it wasn't possible, but then I realized that it was totally possible... maybe it had just been below the horizon line until tonight and had been born while I couldn't see it. That had to be it. \n\nThe next night it had moved. The new star seemed brighter as well, almost bigger, and as I studied it more and more I was convinced that it wasn't a star at all. The star showed up on the news a couple nights later, apparently I wasn't the only one mapping it's path. Nasa released a statement on every news station (Even fox) about the \"deep space object\". It was headed straight for us.\n\n3 weeks. That's all we had left until the ship (it was close enough now that our telescopes could get a clear image) arrived at Earth. Some people had taken to looting on the grounds that if the world ends they wanted to be prepared, but that more reasonable people were finally finishing off the last of their bucket lists. \n\nWhen the ship was finally in orbit around Earth it seemed as if everybody had gone into a sort of zombie-like state just waiting for shit to hit the fan. The shit came in the form of a ship about as big as a 3 story building. People started killing each other in the streets for supplies as soon as these \"non-earthlings\" launched their shuttle. \n\nThe ship landed in the middle of nowhere, which was probably best because the landing gear was formed of gargantuan stone rings that sank into the earth on impact. The farmer who's land the aliens had destroyed stayed very calm for a man who just had the fears of the entire world land a few miles away. When the ship finally opened (about 8 hours after landing) the most beautiful woman I have ever seen stepped out. \n\nShe walked to the crowd of people standing near the crater and told them, \"your life on this planet is now over. It is now your turn to seek\"", "Sl shifted in the leather chair, unable to find a position that would relieve him of his pain. \n\"We could find a more suitable seat for you.\" the human said, gesturing to the suited man flanking the resolute desk. \n\"No no, I can- manage.\" Sl sighed, finally finding comfort in his seating. \"You know, even through this protection suit I can still feel it, the hard unforgiving nature of your world. I'm... sorry for what we did to you, nobody deserves this.\"\n\"Don't mention it.\" the human dismissed with a wave of his hand before resting it on the glowing tablet covering the desk. \"So when will we receive the first shipment.\" He continued, his index finger rapidly tapping the screen. \n\"Well, uh, now.\" Sl stammered, \"So... I guess this means you accept?\" he finished with a nervous laugh.\n\"Yes.\" The human replied, his chin now resting on his rough clasped hands.\n\"You- are you sure?\" Sl bewilderingly stated, \"1,000's maybe 10,000's of thousands may die; and you are still OK with these terms?\" \n\"Well you said it yourself. We are nothing but bio weapons created to fight your wars for you.\" the Human sighed.\n\"Not just... weapons, each of your lives have meaning. The creative output of each individual is, well, extraordinary. Which is why the program was dismantled before-.\"\n\"But none the less we are weapons and killers.\" The human interjected. \"100's of millions have died for much more frivolous causes, and I'd say becoming the second most powerful species in the galaxy and mantling the... what did you call them?\" \n\"Pokil.\" Sl whispered.\n\"Yes, thank you, and mantling the Pokil as the warrior caste is not such a bad offer. You also said you would provide transport?\" The human inquired, once again furiously tapping the tablet.\n\"Until you can provide your own with the tech we have provided.\" Sl recited, realizing the talks were coming to an close. \"With my assistance you will take the false king Yonks out of power and place me in his stead.\"\n\"Of course.\" the human assured, a smug look taking hold of his face. \n\"After all, he is the one that confined us to this... terrible planet.\"\n\"Yes\" Sl replied with a vicious grin, \"He is the one that hid you away from the galaxy, he is the reason your people have suffered.\" \n\"Well then, lets topple an empire.\" the human boomed, rising form his seat. \n\"Yes, lets\"\n\nFeedback Plz\n\n", "Do you know how the immune system works? It sends little fighters to where it identifies the infection’s cells, then it kills them, either through heat, or just ripping them apart. Do you know what happens when the little fighters lose? You die. \n\n\nEons ago humans emerged on a small moon orbiting a small planet orbiting an enormous star near the center of galactic civilization. The humans spread from the moon to the planet, consuming and multiplying as they migrated. The galactic military, the comet corps as they were called, were called in to suppress the spreading infection; however they found it impossible to stop humans spread. They lost battle after battle to an inferior foe. Humans were unpredictable and amazingly entrepreneurial when it came to destructive abilities. After a decade drastic action was authorized and the planet and it’s moon were subject to intense radiation bombing. Twenty years later when the first expeditionary comet squadrons were sent to investigate the ruin, they found small colonies of humans living in the rubble. Their most powerful weapon had proven insufficient. The galactic council got together and authorized a second strike, unheard of in all of civilized history, but the science committee convinced them to preserve a small sample for future reference. A containment strategy could not be devised that would ensure a low enough risk profile so an experimental project was embarked upon. \n\n\nA self-destructing wormhole was purposely created near the moon that opened up to a system that held three possible host planets. Small human colonies were sent through to each planet and then the wormhole consumed itself in a blast of radiation that was conveniently channeled into the original planet and moons atmospheres. The resulting radioactive atmosphere rendered both uninhabitable for the foreseeable future. As a precaution, the protective magnetic field and upper ionospheres of both planets were stripped allowing all breathable gas to escape and subjecting the planets to high levels of solar radiation for the remainder of the stars existence. \n\n\nThe council and the comet corps then turned to more important matters, like the spice trade and the imperial succession on Rhyson II. The years passed, Fornario the great inherited the throne, the spice flowed and the council declined into a largely administrative body more accustomed to lunch rather than governing. The comet corps however was not complacent, they had not forgotten about the humans and had launched several probes that would eventually, at greater-than-light speeds, reach the humans planets and monitor their growth. New tactics developed to fight the humans the next time they encountered them proved hugely successful against less resilient species and the comet corps reputation of ruthless efficiency grew over the years. But they never forgot why those tactics and weapons had been developed in the first place. \n\n\nThousands of probes were sent and one day one chirped back something other than the typical non-message message. It had found something, synthesized metal, digital intelligence, local-system travel within the humans vicinity. The comet corps tried to spring into action, but requests for additional funding were balked at by the bureaucrats who had long forgotten the human threat. The comet corps turned all of its resources to the formation of a stellar blockade that would await the humans when they eventually broke out of their system. A network of destructive power the galaxy had never seen before. Entire local systems were rigged to supernova once the humans crossed the proverbial sphere in space. The comet corps waited for the worst because they knew it was coming, the humans would be there eventually, and they would be ready. \n" ]	3
	[WP] It's odd to look in as an outsider, at a place where you once felt at home.	[ "J sat stiffly in his seat, hands clasped nervously in his lap as he kept his head down for the most part, averting his eyes. Mark sat across from him as he propped up his four year old on his lap. Lukas was asleep, as he should've been due to the late hour. Glancing at the clock, the numbers read 12:27 pm.\n\n “Why are you here, J?” Mark asked finally. Lukas mumbled softly in his sleep and Mark took a second to settle him before looking at J again, waiting for an answer.\n\n “I….I don't know. I wanted to see you. You and the kids. I miss you guys. I-I still love you.” Mark stiffened at the words. He mentally thanked himself for managing to get Lux to sleep earlier. Lukas had been tougher, refusing to leave his dad’s arms. Even when Mark had moved to place him down in his bed, Luka only woke up to beg to be held again. The four year old had never been this clingy. It only ever happened when J was around. \n\nLukas didn't like his other dad very much. Not after he hurt Mark. Left him on the floor crying in the kitchen with broken glass and plates around him, red lines running down his legs from where he'd accidentally cut himself. The sight had been traumatic for the boy. Mark let out a harsh breath. \n\n“Really now? Didn't seem that way when you left. Nearly tore me apart, you know.” J flinched at Mark’s clipped tone, the venom stinging. J looked up, peering at the man he'd once shared everything with and almost shrunk back at the tired brown eyes that watched him back. He'd caused that. He'd caused Mark’s pain. It was all his fault.\n\n “Have you been drinking, J?” Mark asked suddenly. He went to shake his head, a response he'd never really grown out of, but stopped himself before nodding slowly. Mark let out an empty laugh. \n\n“Of course you have. It's the only reason you'd be here. You’ve always been a guilty drunk.” J’s eyes widened at Mark’s words. They hurt. Mark, his sweet, loving, kind, and wonderful partner was staring at him with eyes full of pity and sadness. J stood up suddenly, surprising both himself and Mark. \n\n“T-that's not it, Mark! I came here to apologize. What I did? It was horrible. I left you to take care of two kids by yourself. I left you hurt and cut up, and I left you scared. Scared of me. I was a fucking idiot, okay? I'm not here to ask for your forgiveness! I just wanted to say sorry.” J’s sudden outburst had Lukas rolling over in Mark’s arms. He didn't quite wake up, but he still looked slightly agitated, even in his sleep. For Lux, Mark wasn't so lucky.\n\n “Daddy? What's going on? Who's yelling?” J turned his attention to the top of the stairs where a young girl with dark hair stood in pajamas, rubbing her eyes tiredly. J’s breath left his lungs. It had been a year, and she looked so much like Mark. \n\n“Lux.” He breathed her name out. It was soft, delicate. Mark growled. \n\n“No. You don't get to talk to her. You can apologize all you fucking want, but it changes nothing.” He stood up, cradling Lukas close to his chest. The boy let out a small whimper but continued to sleep. He walked over to the bottom of the stairs, standing between J and Lux. \n\n“Lux, sweety? Go back to bed, okay? Daddy’ll be up there soon.” The girl didn't move. Instead, she stared at J. Being two years older than Lukas, she had a better grasp on the situation between the two of them than her brother did. Lukas hated J. Lux? She despised him. \n\n“Why is he here, daddy? Is he here to hurt you again? I won't let him!” Mark wanted to smile, proud of his little girl for trying to protect him, but this wasn't the right situation for it.\n\n “Don't worry about it, Lux. J-Dad’s leaving soon.” Lux’s face twisted at his words.\n\n “He's not my daddy. You are.” With that, she disappeared, most likely to Mark’s bedroom. There was no way the two of them wouldn't be sleeping with Mark tonight. Once he heard the door close behind her, Mark looked back at J and froze at the sight he saw before him. The man he'd once known, proud, loud, and energetic as hell with a constant smile? Gone.\n\n The J he saw now looked broken, as if he'd lost everything he'd ever known as loved due to stupid decisions. It was accurate, however. Mark finally spoke after a few seconds of silence. \n\n“You should leave, J.” The words came out even and neutral as he tried hard to fight back the tears threatening to ruin his vision. With a shuddery breath, J nodded. With a few finally words, J turned around and walked out the house. Mark could hear them ringing in his head once again. \n\n”I’m sorry.” J slowly retreated back to his car, glancing back at the house he'd once called home. Now, he was just an outsider", "I should have taken my lawyer's advice. He said:\n\"no matter what you do, you will grow apart from your sons.\"\n\"You can mitigate the separation by living as close as possible, spending as much quality time as you can with them as you can, but you will grow apart.\"\nI still couldn't believe it. Who would have thought that Susan had the courage to ask for a divorce. Much less the motivation. I didn't cheat on her. I was not abusive. I was a great father. Sure I liked my rum and diet Cokes, cigarettes and the occasional spliff. Sure I had a bad run of things over the last few months. Lost my dream job. Relocated my family for said dream job at considerable expense and hardship. Shit just didn't work out. What was I supposed to do when my employer dropped dead the week after I relocated? I burned too many bridges to get here.\nSeems like I burned the most important one of all.\nThis is not how it was supposed to be. I had always pictured myself as a father. Raising my children with love and compassion, with a sense of wonder at the world. I was eager to have children and begin my journey as a father. Susan was just as eager to have children as well. We set out on this grand adventure together. I was changing diapers like a champ. Getting up at all hours to feed and comfort. I was a great dad! We moved for her work. Ten times in six years. My parents passed away. All were blows to the foundation of our relationship. I just didn't think she was strong enough to consider leaving me. I was shocked that night she asked for a divorce. I had a few cocktails in me and it was time to feed the dog. I thought it was time for the older of my two boys to learn a little responsibility. So I showed him the can opener and how to use it. \"Open the can son, and give Bella half a can of wet food and a scoop of dry.\" My boy, eager to please, went at that aluminum container with gusto. He cut his index finger almost to the bone on the sharp lid. I was too drunk to take him to the emergency room for stitches. Susan took him. On that cold rainy, shitty-ass night. When she got back she told me she was leaving me. To this day, fifteen years later, I can't open a can without feeling a twinge of guilt. \nAnd to this day I long for what could have been. \"If only\" and \"I wish I had\" are constant mantras, circulating in my head late at night. \nNow when I get a chance to visit my boys, now young men, I feel like an outsider, an intruder. Sure my sons still love and care for me. Susan has found a great guy who I am proud to call their stepfather. My boys are doing just fine without me having been there for a majority of their lives. Sure we spent time together. As best we could. As best we can. But now I am on the outside looking in at what was once my family. Was once my home. " ]	2
	[WP] The Chernobyl disaster was all a conspiracy and there was actually no radioactive meltdown. Something much worse happened there, and you're the conspiracy theorist who just figured it out..	[ "\"I'm sorry, what were you saying?\"\n\n\"We need you to investigate the Chernobyl accident!\" the man sitting across from Jack said, trying to yell over the whirring blades.\n\n\"Did you just say Chernobyl?\" Jack replied, peering nervously at at the landscape below the helicopter.\n\n\"We believe that it didn't really happen; at least, not for the reasons we thought it did. You're a conspiracy theorist, that's why we hired you. This should be right up your alley!\"\n\n\"Yeah, but this isn't exactly JFK! I thought Chernobyl was pretty legit.\" He glanced at the stoic hulk of a man sitting next to him. \"And what am I even searching for anyway?\"\n\n\"Anything.\" the man replied, \"And we're close to the drop-off point. Get ready.\" The man Jack was sitting next to seized him, and he felt the helicopter lowering. \"Contact us with your walkie-talkie when you find something notable.\"\n\n\"Wait-\" the man kicked Jack out before he could object. Thankfully he was only a few feet off the ground. He stood up and saw the helicopter flying into the distance. \"Freakin' jerks.\"\n\n Jack scanned the dense forest around him. \"Looks like 30 years without humans was a real boon for this place.\" He said to the walkie-talkie. No response. \"Not gonna talk back to me, huh? Well I didn't want to speak to those guys anyways.\" the man thought. \"Though it seems a bit lush. It looks more like humans haven't been here for hundreds of years.\" Jack continued walking around, seeing nothing but trees and animals for miles around. That is, until He happened upon the largest circle of mushrooms he had ever seen.\n\n Jack brought up his walkie-talkie. \"Whoa. I've never seen a fairy ring like this before. It's... massive.\" He stepped into it and his jaw dropped. Suddenly, it was full of creatures, all previously invisible. Some tall and slender, others squat and ugly, and yet others still were little more than colorful apparitions. He tried to step back out, but it was too late, they had all seen him, and pounced. \n\n\"A human!\" He heard them yell, as they lifted him by the arms and legs. \"We've finally found a human!\" Jack was placed on something flat and hard just outside the fairy ring, and was being tied down by thick ropes. \n\n\"What are you doing!\" Jack yelled.\n\n\"It's time for the blood ritual!\" The Fair Folk cried out.\n\n\"Bl-blood!?\" Jack said, eyeing a knife as the elf wielding it cut... his finger tip. A fairy caught a few drops of blood in a thimble and flew out into the circle of mushrooms. \n\nSuddenly, the fairy ring disappeared, opening up into what seemed like another world. A truly massive Jinn rose out of the portal. Jack, just barely able to reach it, turned on his transceiver.\n\n\"You have done well,\" the Jinn boomed, as the Fair Folk were rallying around him. \"It is time to reclaim what is ours. The humans thought that they had overcome us with their technology. They thought that they had rid themselves of us by banishing the Fair Folk to this land. They thought they had killed us with their Atom, not thirty moons ago.\"\n\n\"It is time to bring magic back to the world.\"", "The readings don't lie. Zero radiation at the Elephant's Foot. I risked my life for this, that sweet moment of satisfaction: \"I knew it!\" But the bitterness set in just after I turned the Geiger counter off. Standing there, hunched over the rusted railing in complete darkness, with only the ghostly sounds of dilapidated metal groaning and escaping gasses gently hissing from cracked pipes. I shouldn't have turn all the lights off. This area is a death trap, even without radiation poisoning being a factor. I stood there and thought back to why I came here.\n\nA bit of history: I'm an urban explorer. My interest in the supernatural actually led me on this path. After selling my startup, I packed it in and went on the road. I was fat could barely hoist myself onto a meter-tell ledge. But I loved watching those videos of people squeezing into ruins of modern society. I enjoyed watching them psyche themselves out thinking someone was following them. I loved the faked videos of creatures darting about in catacombs under Paris. It just all made sense to me. Yeah, the stuff on YouTube was all bullshit, but what about that one time it wasn't? I had an opportunity that few people will ever get. I became a vagabond millionaire. I literally cashed out my shares and disappeared. I began walking, then jogging, then running, then sprinting. I shed my weight and my reservations about being a member of society. I set out for adventure. Real adventure. Not one-off rock climbing or thrill seeking. I started to explore the world that everyone forgets, or, as I stood in the sarcophagus of Chernobyl, everyone wants everyone else to forget. \n\nBut I digress. I had played the STALKER series of games and I had read everything unclassified about Chernobyl. It seemed to be an explorer's dream. Danger from all angles. Danger from the law, from the environment, from the corium that would kill with just moments of exposure, even more than 30 years later. I had been to some forbidden places and seen some strange things, but this was my magnum opus. Unfortunately, no one but myself knew of my adventure thus far. My camera was lost to the uncaring wilderness and my \"documentary\" was a wash. This setback was not nearly as glorious as one might imagine. I tripped and dropped it into a drainage grate. In fact, up until walking into the NPP, nothing really got in my way except for myself.\n\nI was definitely a trespasser, though. I chose not to get sanctioned access to any part of the exclusion zone. I simply walked into it. I hopped over a fence and Bob's your uncle! Security is lax in the outer areas and for most of the way there, I'd only see an occasional helicopter or patrolling vehicle, none of which were particularly imposing. I just ducked down and tossed my ghillie cape over myself. I never even got a second look. I literally just walked up to the NPP, surprised that a sniper round didn't take my head off when probing the outskirts of the reactor buildings for unlocked or unbarred entrances. I found a couple but I knew my destination. I chose to worm my way into the tunnel that was dug underneath the sarcophagus. To my surprise, the Geiger counter actually dropped off near the tunnel. It should have been rising sharply as I looked for a way into it. \n\nAt this point, you're thinking that I have a death wish. It could better be described as ambivalence. I was banking on the documentation leaked into the deep web a few months ago. It was an eyewitness account of an officer who had been in charge of \"seeding.\" Seeding? His job was to orchestrate multiple airborne drops of chemicals from barrels onto the grounds on and around the Chernobyl station to \"slow the rate of fire spread.\" Unconventional, yes, but the time he reported executing these orders was earlier than the reported times of the first signs of meltdown or explosion. Only after their \"fire controlling\" efforts did the top blow off of the NPP. So essentially, groups of helicopters were dumping something over the entire area before the meltdown occurred. They were out there the night before the power plant even began its ill-fated tests. \n\nFor most, this is the end of their research. A chuckle of disbelief and moving on to the next article. I didn't stop there and I planned and executed a trip to the former USSR. Amazingly, I found that a number of small villages were evacuated the day before. As if the government already knew the meltdown was going to occur. Indeed, they were told that there was an incident at the NPP and that they needed to flee to safety before they lost their window of opportunity. Note that no one who shared this was under the age of 75 or 80. None knew the miracle of the Internet and none even owned a telephone. This was enough for me. It was my chance to find the truth. I set out that day to the NPP hell-bent on discovering that truth.\n\nSo I stood there, Geiger counter off and silent, contemplating my next move and the implications of this all. There was no meltdown. There were fires, fires hot enough to melt metal. There had been radiation, which I can only attribute to the \"fire control\" helicopters sprinkling dust over the site. It made enough sense to be plausible and the Geiger counter didn't lie. But the cost in human life! The disaster even helped bring down the Soviet Union. This hoax was universally destructive to the government that set it up, if it was even the government set it up. If this had been staged, what was it staged to cover up? As if in answer, I turned my headlamp on and peered around the room. Sure enough, among the detritus, a hatch. A newer, shiny hatch, with a thin layer of dust over it. It was disused, but it was far newer than the building around it. So I stood there, in the most environmentally restrictive man-made place on Earth, staring down a Lost-style hatch, leading to something that the most elaborate hoax in history had been orchestrated to hide. \n\nWhat did I do? You bet I opened it. I wished I hadn't. I wished that the Elephant's Foot had irradiated me to senility and I had died there in that desolate mess of concrete and steel re-bar. That would have been infinitely preferable. I wish now that that little room had become my sarcophagus as well.", "\nThe video starts with a low-res webcam showing a dim, cluttered apartment and a disheveled man in his 50's who looks like he hasn't had a good night's sleep in half that time. It wobbles slightly as the man adjusts the view.\n\n\"Hello. My name is Charlie McDowell, and I'm a theoretical mathematician.\" his voice sounds as gravelly as his unkempt appearance would suggest; nothing like the composed academic his job title would suggest. \"Unfortunately I think history will remember me instead for my cross-disciplinary work, which now includes solving two of the longest-standing philosophical debates as well as dooming the human species.\"\n\nThe man, Charlie, leans into the camera's field of view, attempting to strike a grave pose - but the eyes are too wide; too wild. \"Before I tell my story, I need to say this first: Delete any math files, programs, or ebooks you may have. Burn your math textbook. Do not open any email attachments. This isn't a joke or a prank. Your life, and the lives of your friends and neighbors, are at stake. If that sounds melodramatic or crazy to you, well, you probably won't last the week. This world is already not the world you knew.\" Charlie holds the pose for a moment longer, then slumps back, looking defeated. He rubs his grimy brow with one hand and continues.\n\n\"I guess, if history is going to be looking at me - if there is a history after this - I ought to get the whole story out there. Although that sort of open thinking may be exactly what got us into this. Regardless, it started over thirty years ago. Actually it started with Dmitrii - though I knew him as Dvolve, and he was the first person I'd ever found to share my passion for math. We met on a math-themed BBS I was running, and despite spending hours a day talking with him about math with him, I knew very little about him. About all I really knew is that he had adopted (what I thought at the time anyway) a Russian affectation.\"\n\n\"Well one day Dvolve stopped logging on, and within the week men in suits stopped by to confiscate my BBS with a warrant so secret I wasn't even allowed to see it. They also hauled me off for a week's stay in a dark room for questioning. I thought at the time it was because of the encryption Dvolve and I were developing, but they hardly asked about that. In fact, I could hardly make heads or tails out of their questions, and eventually they released me.\" At this point, Charlie stops his narrative to take a drink from a glass of clear liquid. He sets it down, half empty, at the edge of the field of view.\n\n\"That was about the time I became what you might call a \"conspiracy theorist.\" These days, that term has a lot of baggage associated with it - tinfoil hats and blurry photos of men in rubber suits. But that's only because so many people forget how many conspiracies were true: MKULTRA. Bay of pigs. Gulf of Tonkin. Operation Northwoods. And now their conspiracy against me - intimidating my would-be employers for 30 years. Falsifying my background checks. My ex wife...\" Charlie drifts off for a moment, them shakes his head and appears to regain his conviction.\n\n\"Ten years ago, after four lawsuits, they finally returned my old BBS to me. By then of course it was hopelessly outdated; but in the box with it was an innocent-seeming packing slip, with the computer identified as 'Chernobyl Ev. 15443-A.' It's the kind of thing you might only take seriously if you've been followed around by black sedans for a few decades. So I started poking the internet to see what would fall out.\" He made a jabbing motion with his finger to emphasize this point.\n\n\"What I found out was this: Dvolve - Dmitrii, actually, hadn't had a Russian affectation. He'd been a genuine Russian researcher at Chernobyl. A researcher into applied mathematics. And he wasn't working on nuclear research. In fact, Chernobyl hadn't been a nuclear power plant at all. Well, I mean it had - but that was a cover - a cover for what they were really building!\" He leaned closer to the camera as he continued: \"After finding out who Dvolve was I remembered that BBS that had been sitting in the corner. I decided to go through it's logs, looking for any other clues Dmitrii might have left. And I found more than I had bargained for.\" He slapped his hand on the table in agitated emphasis, causing the camera to wobble. The glass remained still however.\n\n\"The feds had crawled over every byte, but they could only reach the hard drive, not what was in my head.\" He tapped the side of his head knowingly. \" So they missed it. That encryption Dmitrii and I had worked on? The algorithm was still there... but it was altered. And it wasn't all that was altered - I found several other things Dmitrii and I had written or exchanged with subtle flaws. We'd spend hours, sometimes days on these things, and I knew every detail - and things had been changed. I'm sure the feds thought to check those errors, but without the original information, they found nothing. But I had it; I remembered just enough to piece together the differences. So I took all of those changes, and I ran them through the original version of our encryption engine. And it spit out... well, it spit out a truth the world should have kept hidden. Tried to keep hidden, really, but I'd thwarted it.\" Charlie was leaned back now, shaking his head in self-recrimination. The glass of clear liquid slid about two pixels towards the center of the screen, but the liquid inside didn't so much as ripple.\n\n\"The unecrypted docs were a log, Dmitrii's log, hidden on my BBS for safe keeping in case of disaster - like the one that happened in 1986. Dmitrii had always had this theory - more an idea really - that math wasn't just a model for the universe; it was the underlying mechanism of the universe. Philosophers have names for this in varying degrees, but Dmitrii wasn't interested in philosophy. He wanted empirical proof - and in his genius he found a way to get it.\" Charlie had been leaning closer to the camera, eyes widening as he spoke. Now they looked so big that his face hardly seemed to consist of anything but scruffy beard and wide yellowed eyes.\n\n\"Godel's incompleteness theorem. It states that no system can be both consistent and complete. Well, Dmitrii managed to create a model for the universe that was broad enough to encompass all our physical theories - and he found it's incompleteness. It's flaw. More than that, he'd designed a machine to test that flaw - a Godel device. It would take half the power of a city to run, but if it did... well, Dmitrii didn't know. It would break reality and destroy the universe? Or maybe it would crack through into the underlying Ultraverse. And those mad Russians, desperate to get ahead in the Cold War, decided to find out.\" The glass, though it hadn't seemed to move during this time, was now about half it's diameter closer to the center of the screen. A damp ring of condensation marked its previous location.\n\n[part 2 to follow]", "\"Watch your counters, friends. Don't press your luck.\"\n\nThe rope twisted and spun as the three men slid into the darkness of the facility. Their headlamps piercing through the abyss.\n\n\"You're lucky that I'm even risking all our butts taking us here. Forget about getting arrested by the Ukrainian Military or our heads blown off by a Ruskie sniper,\" Vova said. \"We'll be lucky if we don't hand a few extra hands by the end of this.\"\n\nMaxwell shone his light onto the back of their guide. \"Trust us. What we're about to blow the lid on, is worth the limbs.\"\n\n\"You make new limbs sound like a bad thing,\" Jamal said as he awkwardly hopped from the line onto the aged concrete floor. \" If the radioactive goo gives us powers, I call x-ray vision and... super strength! No, Speed! No, wait!\"\n\n\"Jesus, good thing you Brits are loaded.\" Vova sighed through his hazmat suit, and turned towards the hallway that extended before them. His beam only reached about ten feet before him when it was swallowed by the abyss. \"Where's this... eh, chamber 83?\"\n\nMaxwell pulled a binder from his knapsack, and bent his head to aim his headlight at the print-outs within. His curled, dirty-blonde hair got in his eyes. Unfortunately, vision-obscuring hair is a necessary burden versus deadly exposure to radiation. \n\n\"About... 40 meters this way... two flights down... 20 meters to the right... then 120 meters straight ahead. Should be immediately to the left.\"\n\n\"Welp, I hope you boys get your money's worth.\" Vova remarked. \"Follow my lead. I'm know this hell-hole like the back of my hand, yet even this stalker hasn't been here before.\"\n\nAnd the party began to march into the ruins of the Reactor.\n\nMaxwell and Jamal silently prayed that their \"contact,\" whoever she is, wasn't just another crack-pot foil head. I mean, Trutherhunter90's profile pic seemed to prove otherwise. It goes without saying that her looks might have persuaded Jamal and Max to go on this wild-goose chase. \n\nDamn.\n\nThey also hoped that their parent's hadn't contacted the Peace Corps for an update on their little angels. They used the program for relief efforts in the Ukraine due to the war as a cover for their REAL mission. Jamal cashed out on his trust fund to supply the trip, and Maxwell had to put on a show for his Mum and Dave about \"Good Will\" and \"Sacrifices for the benefit of the less fortunate\" and all that shit to get his bucks.\n\nBut it was worth it.\n\nIt is all worth it.\n\nIt has to be worth it.\n\nThe effects of a few decades of abandonment and radioactive exposure had made its mark on the hallway. Lockers hung open on their rusted edges. Pools of stagnant water sat below broken pipes, creating an ecosystem of fungus on the tile floors. Piles of concrete and dirt filled in from collapsed sections of the ceiling. Signs, clothes, and personal objects were strewn, dusty, and faded. \n\nJamal had nearly taken a nose-dive over the side of the stair-case's railing. The stone-steps had begun to crumble with age, and the railing nearly gave way under his genetically blamed stomach. If Vova and Max hadn't grabbed the back of his parka in time, his neck would probably be broken.\n\nVova jabbed a crowbar between the doors of the restricted-maintenance area. By Max's guess, they might have been about an inch-thick with metal. The bullet-proof windows were frosted over with dust and time. Luckily, it seems time was on their side, as the door began to creak and whine at every pull from the crow-bar.\n\n\"So,\" said Vova, steaming his mask with each huff. \"Are you guys goin' to tell me what the fuck is so interesting here that you had me risk all of our lives with the law and radiation and soviet-quality construction to bring you here?\"\n\n\"Soon,\" Jamal said, wiggling his nose like a rabbit to readjust his slipping glasses. \"Very, very soon. The world will know.\"\n\n\"Great, Fuckin' romantics.\" Said Vova. With a final tug, the door came flying open. Vova recoiled into a thin, wooden table behind him, shattering it in half and sending dust and bug-eaten papers flying. \n\nTrutherHunter90 said that it was down here. She even emailed them by proxy all the redacted files and reactor schematics she had. Chamber 83. The Ruskies ace-in-the-hole for the Cold War.\n\nThe large metal doors stood before them, covered head toe with red and white signs, depicting the variety of hazards with tiny stickmen and screaming warnings in bold, Cyrillic lettering. \n\n\"Welp, Boys. It's been a pleasure taking your $20,000 dollars.\" \n\n\"It's been a pleasure giving it to you, Vova\" Remark Maxwell, smirking. \"It will also be a pleasure to give you front row seats to the unveiling of one of the biggest conspiracies of the Cold War.\"\n\n\"Ooooh,\" Vova said, waving his hands in the air in an obvious feint of excitement. \"Can't wait!\"\n\n\"Jammy. The cameras.\" Maxwell instructed.\n\nJamal nodded and produced a large, digital camcorder. He unhooked the miniature screen on it's side, and enabled it's night-vision recording mode.\n\nThank you, Film degree.\n\n\"Vova, you might want that flare gun.\" Said Max. Vova looked down at the fat, orange pistol hanging from his belt. Beyond the occasional feral dog or zealous Russian, the animals of the exclusion zone were fairly harmless. Still, it was better safe then sorry.\n\nVova slid the pistol from his waist. Max nodded at Jamal's lens. \n\n\"You ready for this, Boys and Girls?\" Max remarked in a voice quite obviously for the camera. \n\nDarkness.\n\nA massive chamber of darkness. Even their light's could not penetrate it.\n\n\"Vova, do it man. Let's... shed some light on this whole fuckin' mystery.\"\n\nVova internally pinched the bridge of his nose, and fired a flare into the air.\n\nThe screams were the first things they noticed. Vova had seen his cousin and brother shot by Russian militias, but the screams had shaken him to his core.\n\nThe chamber was filled with bright, red light. Lining the walls, dozens and dozens of man-sized cages. Rubble and refuses covered the floor.\n\nVova slowly rotated around, taking in the sight before him. \n\nSoon he noticed where the screams were coming from. He saw the movement.\n\nDark shapes. Some still and motionless, clumped at the bottom of their cages. Others, very much active and afraid.\n\nVova slowly stepped forward towards the lowest nearby row of cages with a mix of fear and morbid curiosity. He turned his head-lamp to maximum brightness.\n\nThe screaming became even more horrific.\n\nVova came eye to eye with... a man. A terrified man. At least, it seem like it was one. \n\nIts face was a contorted and bulky imitation of a human's. His body was covered in awkwardly placed patches of hair and fur. He was built with obvious strength and sturdiness, but his limbs and muscles looked bulging and ill-formed, like wet ground-meat in an air-tight plastic bag. Veins ran all around him in a wanton highway. \n\nHe was naked, hunched, bloated, starved, and very... very afraid. \n\n\"WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS THIS!?\" Cried Vova, turning around to Maxwell. \"IS THIS WHAT WE'VE CAME FOR? WHAT'S GOING ON! EXPLAIN TO ME DAMMIT!\"\n\n\"Genetics,\" Replied Maxwell with a blank expression, watching Jamal walk along the perimeter, filming the squirming figures within. \"You ever heard of the concept of... Ubermencsh?\"\n\n\"What!?\"\n\n\"It's a Nazi thing. It's like... the super-man. The ideal man. It was the focal point of the Nazi's, mate. They we're the best, ideal, purest breed. Everyone else, substandard.\"\n\nMax gestured outward with a wave to the cages. \"The Soviet's were interested in playing around with genetics after The War, build their own kinda Ubermensch. A perfect warrior, bred from birth to fight.\"\n\nVova stared in shocked silence, Maxwell continued. \n\n\"They did some weird... breeding. Inseminated a peasant woman with Ape jizz. It didn't take for a while, but eventually they made it stick. Radiation, man. Targeted mutation of DNA made it cum stick better, and soon you got these ape-man bastards here.\"\n\n\"These... are men?\" Inquired Vova.\n\n\"No. These are... a new type of man. A new breed.\" Replied Max. \"The Ruskies were keeping them here, making new ones, training them as best as they could, and firing fucktons of radiation at their brains, trying to see if they could make them bigger, stronger, smarter, ect.\"\n\nMax chuckled to himself. \"This is some fuckin' Buck Rodgers shit, Mate. Radiation Ape-Men. I guess it was the 50's, after all.\"\n\n\"You think this is funny? This suffering?\" Cried Vova.\n\nMaxwell swung around and got close to Vova. \"Not in the slightest. That's why we came all this way here. That's why we paid out the fuckin' nose. To find this. To prove the rumors true. To see how deep the fuckin' rabbit-hole goes, mate.\"\n\n\"To keep things like this from happening again...\"", "*DVD recieved by RT office 19th June 2016, no specific name on envelope\n\n\nThe camera switches on, a chair and table appear in shot. A man, dressed in a Soviet era uniform covered in a collection of medals sits on the chair; he looks old probably in his late 60/70s, wrinkled but still a giant of a man. He gives a deep guttural cough, struggling to catch his breath. A voice off camera asks “Are you ok, do you want some water?”\n\nThe man gestures with his hand, coughing into a tissue, blood clearly visible on it before managing to gasp, “No thank you, it will pass”.\n\nThe interviewer adjusts the camera as the man straights up in the chair, fixing the uniform placing the tissue in his pocket. The date in the corner reads 01/FEB/13\n\n“So do you want to start from the beginning Sergey?”\n\nThe uniformed man looks behind camera in the direction of the voice.\n\n“First I want you to know I’m proud of my country, I wear this uniform with pride, I’m not a traitor telling this story. The only reason I am talking to you is because of the denial and lies they (the government) have told over the years which cost so many lives.” He proudly touches the medals on his chest before continuing.\n“I am Colonel Sergey Antonov of the former Soviet army. I was based at our installation at Pripyat in 1986. At the time I was a Major over seeing the various experiments at our research site located at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant.”\n\n“What were your duties there?” \n\n“Primarily to secure the site and keep the scientists and staff safe from outsiders and under a watchful eye.”\n\n“What kind of research was done there?”\n\n“I was never told the specifics, we where there to do our jobs, they (the scientists) where there to do theirs. It was on a total need to know basis and very few needed to know. That was the Soviet way. All I know was the Power Plant was build specifically for the facility and it involved energy experiments of some kind.”\n\n“Describe to me what happened during the night of 26th April 1986?”\n\n“I the scientists had been running tests for most of the day and had continued into the night. There was some sort of anticipation that they where on the cusp of something big, there was an air of near excitement that you could clearly read on their faces.” He paused. “And believe me, they had very little to smile about in those days.” He shuffled in his chair slightly before continuing.\n\n“I had retired earlier that night to my bed, there was nothing untoward, just another day of testing. I was woken around 12:50pm by one of my staff saying that the facility was experiencing problems and the scientists had voiced concerns to the duty staff. As I got dressed the lights where flickering, not uncommon during some of the larger tests but this was different.”\n\n“What was happening?”\n\n“It was total chaos when I arrived. Technicians were running about and warning alarms ringing. The main lab area was bathed in a terrible bright light, flashing, blinding. I couldn’t see its exact point only that it was in the main test chamber, situated directly above the No.2 reactor. It was deliberately away from the civilian control room to reduce unnecessary contact. Someone shouted ‘It’s drawing more power, we can’t shout it down’. I grabbed Yuri Satunov who was head of the research team and I demanded to know what was going on.”\n\n“What did he say?”\n\n“You must remember this was a very chaotic scene, I can’t remember his exact words but it he said they had run their tests as normal but something unexpected had happened he said the door had been opened and they couldn’t shut it.”\n\n“The door?”\n\n “Yes…at the time I didn’t understand but later on I came to know exactly what he meant.”\n\n“Then what happened?”\n\n“There was noise, ear piercing, building, getting louder and suddenly there was a blast of some kind, not an explosion as you or I know it but you felt it go through you, we all did. Like a wall of air had hit you, even though we where behind reinforce walls a blast proof glass.” He gestures with his hands coming towards him. \n“Some panels on the control boards blew out, some lights shattered, I felt static in the air, I have never felt the like of it and that was when I saw it, one of them.”\n\n“One of them!?”\n\n“Yes” Sergey pauses. “I will never forget it till the day I die. It was huge. Twice, three times the size of a man. It raised a huge fist and struck the chamber glass, once, twice” He motions with closed fists, hitting the table. ”The glass cracked, staff where going crazy, shouting orders”…’SHUT IT DOWN, KILL THE POWER’* “Then there was another huge flash and it vanished. I looked at Yuri, he was white, pale, scared. I would have shook him till he told me everything but then my radio started, someone was reporting intruders in the Plant, there was gunfire screams. I tried to replay but there was no response. I bolted from the lab and told the two guards to seal the door and let no one in or out while I tried to find out what was going on.”\n\n“What did you do?”\n\n“I contacted my second in command, Captain Norrov and ordered a total lock down but he was already reporting we had causality’s. I raced to the duty station and already men had been brought there, injured, badly. Norrov informed me the men had been attack by unknown assailants throughout the Plant, some kind of creatures.” Sergey raises his hands making himself large in the chair.\n\n“Then what!?” \n\n“First and foremost I’m a solider…we grabbed our rifles and I picked up the phone to contact area command, the line was dead, then I tried to contact the lab. I got hold of Yuri and asked for an update. He couldn’t give me any answers only that the reactor was going to melt if they didn’t stop it. Just then there was another one of those blasts again, the phone went dead. There was gun fire in the corridor outside. We ran out and a solider was firing at one of those monstrosities. We aimed our rifles and fired too.” He raises his hand as if holding a gun.\n\n“I emptied the whole clip, they did too but it did nothing. It ran at us, fast, so fast…it was upon us in seconds. It picked up Norrov and crushed him in front of me…those claws, his screams.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Before it could get me there was a flash and it vanished. That was around 01:30am and that was when the reactor blew. I new immediately what it was. The Plants Klaxons started blaring and I told my men in the duty station to get out. I shouted for an evacuation over the radio, I didn’t know who was alive to receive the order. I turned and ran, the ground was shaking, I heard explosions, screams it was a nightmare.”\n\n“But you got out?”\n\n“Yes me and a dozen other soldiers a handful of the science staff from another part of the building. I later found out others were still in the civilian control room, totally unaware of what was happening else where in the building…as they should. I looked up and saw the hole in the No.2 reactor building roof, flashes of light and fire illuminated the sky, bits of the roof and graphite littered the ground. I wasn’t an expert in radioactivity but I knew I had to get out and contact command.”\n\n“How quickly did they respond?”\n\n“Quickly, maybe a hour had passed. They must have been monitoring the Plant; they arrived before I could make contact. Men in NBC suits picked me up in a forest not far from the Plant as I tried to make my way to Pripyat. I along with many others where picked up and transported away to be debriefed. There was a lot of soldiers, tanks, helicopters, I could swear I heard gunfire in the distance as the lorry drove us away, but I can’t be sure.”\n\n“What did you tell them?”\n\nSergey makes a hmm noise. “I knew what would happen if I told them the truth. I told them I was in bed when the explosion happened, that I couldn’t contact my duty station or the lab and escaped once I realised the reactor had blown.”\n\n“Did they believe you?”\n\n“Maybe, maybe not, all I know is I never saw any of the others from that night. I was reassigned to a quiet base in Arctic Circle to police polar bears and I have never spoken about it since. I knew they would be watching, listening. The KGB was everywhere.”\n\n“Why tell your story now?”\n\n“I’m an old man who has been carrying the burden of a secret too long. So many men needlessly died that night, many more innocents with the radiation after. I watched every lie over the weeks, months and years that followed. The rehearsed testimonies, the documents, the investigations that pointed to an accident, all fake.” He coughs again, deep, painfully. “Besides soon I will be joining my comrades, the radiation has seen to that.”\n\n“Did you ever return to Chernobyl? You have to understand with no proof it is a hard story to believe.”\n\n“Only once, to the forest they found me in.” Sergey reaches for his pocket and pulls out something a white handkerchief, long curved. He sets it on the table and slowely unfolds it. He lifts up a claw, long, sharp and holds it up. “Monsters do exist….and I have seen them.” \n", "My name is Jered Wellmington and I am an extreme conspiracy theorist. In the past, I had uncovered truths about 9/11, JFK’s assassination, and even Hitler’s supposed death. What I recently discovered trumps all of them. I was asked to look into Chernobyl’s past and the cause, and this is my journal.\n\nDay 1\nI have left the United States on my month trip to Chernobyl. It will be a long flight and trip, but I am excited to get started working. \n\nDay 3\nI have arrived near the fallout site. I met with the chief military officer, who was a sergeant, on site, who gave me the rundown of everything. I was shown my bunk, the location of the mess hall. The sergeant informed me that there would always be military scouts and patrols around, so to make sure not to wander off after curfew. When allowed near the fallout area, I would be given appropriate equipment. \n\nDay 6\nSo far I have come across very little conspicuous items that would give the idea of any sort of conspiracy. It appears to have happened as a freak accident. But although that may be true, I can’t shake the feeling that something different happened here. The military presence is much greater than expected. I will dig deeper.\t\n\nDay 13\nA few things have happened since my last log. I found a few strange documents in an office when on site. I will show some excerpts now.\n\t\nThis is Dr. Mcregory. This nuclear facility is not safe and I have informed the government it needs to be shut down immediately. Powers beyond our control are in action here. Geiger counters have been reacting to more than just what is nuclear.\n\nDr, Mcregory again. Shit has gone crazy here. I recommend all nuclear activities be halted immediately and this site shut down indefinitely. A worker was found dead this morning near a nuclear reactor, strange burns all across his body.\n\nThis may very well be the last document I ever write. The government have ignored every attempt I have made. Two thirds of the employees here are now dead. All with the strange burns. A misty fog has set in over the whole area. It is impossible to see more than 20 feet in it, and it gets thicker daily. You can see strange shadows moving about, almost demonic in form. \n\nI am not sure what to make of this, but it appears that if these documents are true, much more than a nuclear meltdown occurred here. I will continue searching.\n\nDay 17\n\nI walked the entire perimeter of the site today, as well as most of the area inside and I came across a strange hole inside a building near one of the reactors. It was quite large, possibly 30 feet in diameter, stretching down into the darkness. I dropped several flares, all that disappeared. I then dropped a camera with night vision capabilities, and after a few seconds it ceased all recordings.\n\nDay 21\n\nI have been here for nearly 3 weeks, and I have found the strangest thing yet. It was a video broadcast of what appears to be the remaining staff. I shall write in here the dialogue of what happened.\n\nThe 20 or so remaining employees sat in a small room, an office.\n \n“Everyone, I have been contacted by the government, they say to sit tight and we shall be evacuated immediately. They have informed me that helicopters shall be here within the hour to take us away” McGregory said.\n\n“Thank god” another employee exclaimed. “I thought we were going to die out there”\n\nSeveral conversations followed, none of great importance. The video hit the 30 minute mark, which is where the shit hit the fan.\n\nA heavy sound began to engulf everything around. Perhaps the helicopters, but this sounded much larger.\n \n“What is that?” a female exclaimed. \n\nThe camera was picked up, and looked outside the window. Through the fog you could see planes flying overhead, and huge army helicopters landing outside.\n\n“We’re saved!” a male yelled.\n\nThen everyone got quiet as they waited. But muzzle flashes shown through the fog, and\t\ngunshots rang through the silence. Grenades exploded. Soldiers died. It was a shit show. A soldier approached the door, a gas mask on. He appeared to be running from something. Suddenly, he was slammed against the window, and a sharp, hornlike object, protruded from his body, shattering his body and the window together. Behind him, a creature, approximately 7 feet tall, a bipedal, with four arms, stood behind the fallen soldier. Two hands were just points, most likely what killed the soldier. The other two had 7 fingers with razer sharp points. \n\nIt gazed at the workers, and began to descend upon them.\n\nSuddenly, a loud explosion took its attention away. In the background the reactor could be seen collapsing. The military had set off the nuclear fallout on their own, most likely in an attempt to kill whatever these things were. \n\nParts of the reactor were seen falling towards the building and then the video went static, then black.\n\nI have no idea what I just witnessed, but the world needs to see it. I also found a document stating that an extraterrestrial object had crashed in Chernobyl, which would explain the hole. Perhaps whatever it was is still down there, and that was what took out my camera.\n\n I have finished my work here, and will leave to head home tomorrow. I will publish my findings and hopefully this strange occurrence will disappear in my mind forever.\n\nDay 23\n\nI have arrived at home in the U.S. finally. I was dead tired, and said hello to my wife, climbing into bed. I turned on the tv to a news channel, trying to figure out which would be best to go to with my information. After I got that taken care of, this issue would be behind me for the rest of my life.\n\nIn horror I saw the headline read “Strange holes appearing at Nuclear Reactor sites across the world” " ]	6
	[WP]: A frantic 7-year-old kid appears at your door, cursing like a sailor. He has nothing on him but a wallet of a 24-year-old man who looks like him. He needs your help and a shot of whiskey.	[ "(Part 3- Final)\n\n\"Hey.\"\n\nNope. No. It is not time to wake up yet. \n\n\"Hey!\" \n\nPlease go away. I'm not ready to say goodbye to my best friend who I refer to as Sleep. \n\n\"Wake up you lazy fuck!\" \n\nI shoot forward- both hands balled into fists and raised in front of me. \"What?! What is it!?\" I glance around frantically until my eyes catch sight of a young boy staring back at me. \n\nOh. \n\nYesterday's events come flying back at me like a ton of bricks. \n\nOh. \n\nShit. \n\n\"I guess sleeping it off didn't work then.\" \n\n\"Yea, no shit.\" \n\nThere is a bite to John's tone that is different from the previous day. It almost sounds as if he is desperate, and upon studying him further, I can see the panic hidden behind his deadpan expression. Shit. I'm flat out of ideas- we had thought that maybe this, well whatever this is, could be cured by sleep. We thought maybe it was just a one time thing, and John would wake up back to normal. I'm not sure if Google will have an answer for this one. \n\n\"Look, John-\"\n\n\"Stop.\"\n\nMy words catch in my throat as I see John's eyes starting to well up with tears. Please, no. I don't know how to deal with a twenty-four-year-old in a seven-year-old's body crying. Like, do I give him a toy or a beer? \n\n\"Please don't give up on me yet.\" \n\nI'm at a loss for words. This may be the most serious John has been this whole time, and fuck... That protective instinct is bubbling up again. \"Okay, just please don't cry.\"\n\nJohn's quivering lips halt as soon as the words leave my mouth. He smiles and swipes at his eyes. \"You are such a weak bitch, you know that?\"\n\nFuck that protective instinct. I'm about to deck this asshole. \"I hate you,\" I say flatly, flopping back down on his couch that served as my bed last night. \n\n\"You can hate me after we think of a new plan.\" \n\nI drape my arm across my eyes, racking my tired brain for... well anything. I'm pretty good at coming up with plans, but sorry, I'm a little rusty on any \"how to's\" for reverting someone back to the age they are suppsoed to be. There's got to be some sort of consistent factor- something that's there that we are missing. Think. Woke up small, small clothes, panic, granny, my house, bee- wait...\n\n\"The grandma!\" I shout, hopping off the couch and towards the door. \n\n\"The fuck?!\" \n\nJohn's hot on my tail as I'm racing towards the front door. \"The grandma!\" I say again as I'm slipping my shoes on. \"She tried to get you before you showed up at my house yesterday morning, and then she was acting strange and watching us like a hawk when we were going back to your house!\" I'm pulling the door open when I'm stopped by a small hand gripping at my jacket. \n\n\"What? You think she's like a witch or some shit? What the fuck, Ben?\" \n\nWitch? I hadn't thought of that. I should be brushing the idea away because witches aren't real, but I'm so goddamn desperate at this point. I'll take just about anything. \n\n\"Won't know until we go over there and find out,\" I say. I watch as John seemingly contemplates the idea before he nods his head. He races into the house, returning a few seconds later with a pair of unlaced tennis shoes on his feet. \n\n\"Let's go,\" he says.\n\n\n\nWe must look like quite the pair- a young man and a young boy fast walking down the street at seven a.m. with disheleved hair styles and wrinkled pajamas. \n\nWe approach the grandma's house, and she opens the door before we are given a chance to knock. That's all I needed. We were right. She is responsible for this somehow. God, she's a fucking witch. I'm starting to think that maybe I should tell John to go home and wait for me there- like, what if she has a personal vendetta against him, and this is all just a part of her master plan to kill him? \n\n\"Come in.\"\n\nLord, if you can hear me, I'm sorry I haven't exactly been the model citizen throughout my short twenty-one years of life, but I promise I'll try harder if you get me out of this alive! \n\nWe follow the grandma into her house, and I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't pink, flowered wall paper and modernized furniture. Where's the caludron? The pointy hat? The broom stick? The overall dark hatred of the world?\n\n\"Ben!\" \n\nI snap my head towards John. \"Pull yourself together, man,\" he tells me, and I give him a shakey nod in reply. \n\n\"Please, have a seat.\" The grandma tells us, gesturing us to the chairs surrounding her kitchen table. I notice a plate of cookies resting in the middle, and I'm convinced they are laced with drugs. This may be the most intricate murder plot ever. I can just see the headlines now- \"Grandmother Doubling As Witch Kills De-aged Man And Young Man With Drug Cookies.\" \n\nA pinch on my leg has me jolting out of my thoughts. John is shooting me a look that all but screams 'Calm the fuck down!'. \n\n\"We should get straight to it,\" the grandmother says, taking a seat across from us. I can feel sweat prickling the back of my neck. \n\n\"Yea, so why did you fucking do this to me?\"\n\n\"You live a sad life, John.\" \n\nJohn leans back and crosses his arms. \"I don't need you to tell me that,\" he says.\n\n\"You need to find happiness.\"\n\n\"The only thing that will make me happy right now is you changing me back.\" \n\nDamn, John is just going along with this whole witch thing like it's the most casual thing in the world. \n\n\"I'll turn you back if you live a happy day as a seven-year-old.\" \n\n\"I don't know if you noticed, but I'm currently on day two of this whole seven-year-old bullshit.\" \n\nThe gradma sighs. \"Drinking beer and watching adult television shows is not the average day of a seven-year-old.\" \n\n\"What? You want me to go play in the park or some shit?\" John asks- voice harsh yet unbelieving. \n\n\"Do as I say, and I'll change you back. Like I've said, you have lived a sad life, John.\" \n\nI can feel John tensing beside me, but I can also feel the temperature in the room dropping rapidly. I've watched enough Ghost Hunters to know that that is never a good sign. Witch, ghost, whatever- we need to get out of here, and we need to get out of here fast. \n\n\"He will do it,\" I tell the grandma before grabbing John's hand and pulling him out of the house. Once we are safe distance away, I let go of his hand and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. \"That was fucking terrifying!\"\n\n\"No, it was fucking bullshit!\" \n\nI look down at John, and he looks absolutely livid. \"John,\" I start my attempt to diffuse the situation, \"if you do as she says, she will turn you back. It won't be so bad. I mean hell, I would trade places with you in a heartbeat- getting to live the life of a seven-year-old again, all carefree and whatnot.\" \n\nJohn is surprisingly silent, so I take the silence as a chance to once again rack my tired brain for ideas. John doesn't seem to be the type to play at the park or run around like a little shit at the zoo. I need to get him to do something that's considered fun for seven-year-olds and something that will get his mind off the situation. \n\nAnd then it hits me. \n\n\n\nThree hours later and John and I are sprawled out on my bedroom floor surrounded by junkfood and game consoles. He's currently kicking my ass at Mario Kart- probably because I've been sneaking glances at his large smile and determined eyes. He seems relaxed and like he's having fun. Hes still cussing his head off, but it's 2016. There are babies saying \"Fuck\" as there first word. \n\nMy plan is to overload that twenty-four-year-old brain with as many video games as possible. I figure video games would be our best bet, and it seems to be working so far. I just only hope that it's enough for him to change back- he just has to be happy, right? \n\nThe day goes by in a whir of games, chips, and soda. Around ten, John and I are yawning almost non-stop. It's been a long couple of days for both of us. I clean up the mess and tell him to take my bed. I don't mind sleeping on the couch- there's been multiple times I've fallen asleep there while watching Netflix anyway. \n\nI watch John crawl onto my bed and curl up under the covers. \"Night,\" I call out as I'm clicking the lights off and leaving the room. \n\n\"Wait, Ben?\"\n\nI turn around with raised brows. \"What?\" \n\n\"I just wanted to say thanks. I don't know if anything will be different tomorrow, but I appreciate you helping me.\"\n\n\"You are such a weak bitch, you know that?\" \n\nJohn smiles at me and mutters \"asshole\" before flopping down and rolling onto his side. \n\nI head downstairs and flop onto my couch that is significantly less comfortable than John's; however, I fall asleep almost instantly. \n\n\n\n\"Hey...\"\n\nI jolt forward at the deep voice coming from beside me. I put my hands in karate chop positions and prepare to take this intruder out. You may not know this, but I've got a yellow belt in karate. \n\n\"Fucker, if you hit me, you are dead.\" \n\nThe intruder spits out through a laugh, and suddenly... \n\n\"John!\" \n\n\"In my rightful form!\" \n\nI stare at the man in front of me, and yep, it's the same man from the licesne picture. Which means...\n\n\"Holy shit! I'm a fucking genius! My plan worked!\" \n\n\"Simmer down, hotshot,\" John tells me. \n\n\"Oh, I apologize Mr. Wilson. Was I being too loud for your elderly ears?\" \n\n\"You wanna fucking die?\" John asks before we both burst out laughing. \n\n\"You will thank me one day,\" I tell him a few minutes later as I'm walking him to the door. \"I basically saved your life.\" \n\n\"Yea, now I just have to see if I still have my job.\" John claims as I pull the door open for him. \n\n\"Tell them you had a small bout of the black plague.\" \n\nJohn shakes his head and lets out a low laugh before leaving my house. I lean against the door frame and watch as he walks towards the street. He suddenly stops, and I'm just about to fall into a fit of panic thinking that something is wrong when he turns to me with a smile on his face. \n\n\"Wanna come over later and watch more Orange is the New Black with me?\" \n\nThe corners of my lips pull up into a smile, and I nod. \"I'll bring the beer,\" I tell him. \n\n\"Fuck beer! Bring whiskey!\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "(Part 2)\n\nAfter hours, literally hours, of spitting ideas back and forth, we finally decide on the old retracing the steps act. I've come to the conclusion that something happened between yesterday morning and this morning, so we are going to retrace his steps from when he got up yesterday to when he got up today. But, apparently walking through the steps verbally is \"half-assed\". \n\nAnd that's why I'm leaning against the wall in his bedroom as he's untucking himself from bed. \n\n\"So I woke up a little later than usual because it was my fucking day off. I can do whatever I want on my day off,\" he says, hopping out of his bed. I follow him into the bathroom. \n\n\"I did the whole shower and shave business, and then I changed to go to the store.\" \n\nI can't keep the loud groan from slipping through my pressed lips. I can only pray that he's a fairly boring person and stayed home the rest of the day after grocery shopping because I'm not really feeling like driving his ass all around town in search of god knows what. \n\n\"Your fucking groaning isn't gonna help us, ya know?\" \n\n\"Yea, sorry. Just get on with it.\" The quicker we get this done, the better. \n\n\"Well, we gotta walk to the grocery store.\" \n\nWhat the fuck? \"And we can't drive because?\" \n\n\"I walked. I'm not big on the whole morning runs because Jeff from two houses down does morning runs, and have you ever talked to Jeff fucking Jefferson? I mean the name alone is bad enough, but he's an egotistical fuck. I bumped into him the one and only time I went for a morning jog, and you know what this dick said to me? He said, 'Oh hi, Jack. You are looking a little winded. Maybe you should take it easy?\" And then he ran off. Fucker calls me the wrong goddamn name, basically calls me a fatass, then runs off.\" \n\nSo, I'm quickly learning that John Wilson is a man who gets easily pissed off. \"So, I'm guessing you walk to places now as your form of daily exercise?\" \n\n\"That's the first smart thing that has come out of that stupid mouth of yours all day. Walking to the grocery store gives me exercise, and it keeps me from buying up the whole goddamn store.\" \n\nMakes sense. Guess we are headed to the grocery store. \n\n**\n\nThe walk is fairly silent- with the occassional mutters of \"I can't fucking believe this\" from John. The silence gives me time to fully take in the situation, and now I'm sitting here silently sympathizing with John. This is like Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day times ten. Like, I can't even fully fathom how it must have felt for him to wake up and be in the body of a seven-year-old. I mean, what god did he piss off? \n\nAfter a while, we reach a crosswalk with group of soccer moms and screaming kids waiting to walk across. We join them, and after a few seconds, the little walking man symbol appears, and we all start walking. After the fifth glare from the soccer mom beside me, I realize how bad it must look for me to be walking across the street with a \"young child\" while not holding his hand. Granted, John isn't stupid, and I know he's not going to go running into traffic. But to this woman, it looks like I'm being a really shitty guardian, so I grab John's hand and flash the woman my best apology smile. \n\n\"What the fu-\"\n\n\"Now, John,\" I interrupt through gritted teeth, \"hold uncle Ben's hand until we get to the other side of the street. It's safer that way.\" Thankfully, John catches on, and I can live another day without being cited to the police for negligence. \n\nWe turn left when we reach the sidewalk while the soccer squad turns right. John rips his hand out of mine. He stares daggers at me but doesn't say a word. Instead, he turns and starts walking towards the store ahead of me. I think it's fully hitting him that I'm going to have to treat him as a child in public because, well, he's physically a child. I wonder if his pride is suffering because of this.\n\nWhen we get to the store, he grabs a basket and thrusts it into my arms. No. Just fucking no. \"I'm not buying your groceries.\" \n\n\"We are retracing my fuckin' steps, no?\" \n\nI can feel a dull throb starting in my temples. I've got like forty bucks to my name. \"Can we use your debit card?\" \n\n\"Left my wallet when we were retracing my steps at my house.\" \n\nOf fucking course. I'm starting to think I'm on some weird, normal people version of Punk'D. \"Fine,\" I grumble, storming into the store with John close on my heels. \n\nHe takes me down every aisle, and I'm surprised to see only a few things in my basket. Beer, chips, French Onion Dip, and a boxed Taquito dinner. He wasn't kidding about shopping light. \n\nWe get to the checkout, and oh man, the judgement is real. I get it; it looks weird for a young adult buying these items with a kid in tow, and John is just living it up. One more snicker from his mouth, and I may backhand the little shit. On the other hand, one more disapproving glare from the chechout woman, and she may get the pleasure of meeting the back of my hand. I am so over this shit. \n\n\"That was just too fucking hilarious!\" John breathes out through a wheezing laugh as we are walking back to his house. He's been going on about this for the last ten minutes. I mean, we are literally on his street now, and he's still laughing at it. I have a feeling he's going to visit me while I'm on my deathbed to laugh in my face about it. \n\n\"Keep your voice down,\" I warn as I see an elderly woman people-watching from her front porch a few houses away from us. Strange. There's a group of teens approaching, but this old woman's eyes are trained on us. In a sudden burst of protective instinct, I wrap my free arm around John's shoulders, pulling him closer to me as we pass her house.\n\n\"You are doing that fucking annoying thing again. You know I'm not actually seven right?\" \n\nI let my arm fall back to my side as we move away from the old woman's view. \"Sorry, that old woman looked really sketchy.\" \n\n\"Yea, that's the grandma who was coming at me this morning.\" \n\nOkay, well her stares at least make more sense now. But, I still can't shake the uneasy feeling resting in my stomach. \n\n***\n\n\"So, then what did you do?\" I ask as I'm putting his groceries away where he's telling me to. \n\n\"I flopped my ass on the couch and settled in for a day of watching Netflix.\" \n\nThose were honestly the most beautiful words I've heard all day. Now, I would much rather be in the comfort of my own home, but his couch looks decent. I can only hope is taste in shows is decent. \n\nWith beers in hand, we flop down on his couch, and he loads up Netflix. \n\n\"Ever watch Orange is the New Black?\" \n\nI breathe out a sigh of relief. Now he's speaking my language. \"Play that shit,\" I say as I prop my legs up on his coffee table. \n\n(final part 3 to come) ", "(Part 1)\n\n\"I need some fuckin' help!\" \n\nOkay, so if you were to ask me how I thought my day was going to go, meeting a cursing seven-year-old on my doorstep at eight a.m. would not be what I would have had in mind. And, yet... \n\n\"Ummm, where's your mommy?\" I ask- it's the classic question that really means 'I don't want to deal with this shit so where is your parental guardian'. \n\n\"I don't fuckin' know. Florida maybe? Look, something is seriously fucking wrong. Can I come in?\" \n\n\"Uhh, sure?\" As soon as the words leave my mouth, this little shit shoves me aside and marches into my house. I close the door and follow him into the kitchen, watching in wonder and confusion as he opens the fridge and grabs a beer. \n\n\"This is the strongest you got? I need some fuckin' whiskey.\"\n\nWhat? Is he really thinking about popping that open and taking a swig? \"You can't have that.\" \n\n\"And that's some bullshit you are spewing out that dumb mouth of yours.\" \n\nThis is truly unbelievable. \"But, you're like seven.\" I'm starting to wonder if this is like The Curious Case of Benjamin Button 2.0. \n\n\"Nah, I'm twenty-four.\" \n\nI'm about to open my mouth to protest, but I stop as a wallet hits me in the face. I open the wallet and am greeted with the license of a twenty-four year old man named John Wilson. Okay, no big deal right? Some kid who thinks he's too cool for the world jacked some man's wallet. Interesting take on Oliver Twist perhaps? \n\nWrong. \n\nUpon studying the license picture closely, I notcie that the man in the picture and the seven-year-old sipping beer in front of me share some frightening qualities. They both has a slight chin scar of the exact same shape and size, and they both have a single freckle that stands out on the right cheek. \n\nWhat the fuck?\n\n\"Get it now? I'm John Wilson, and yet I'm in the body of a fuckin' seven-year-old. So, like I just said- I need some fuckin' help.\" \n\n\"H-how?\" Not as intellectual as planned, but at least I managed to get one word out. \n\n\"You think if I fucking knew how I'd be at your goddamn house right now!?\" \n\nOkay, hostile is an understatement for this man. I'm starting to wonder if he's gonna whip a toy knife out of his pocket and come at me. I flop down on the kitchen chair across from this boy (man?) and bite down on my lower lip. I get that he's freaking out, but what the fuck does he think I can do? I don't even know how to cook ramen without burning it, and he thinks I can help him turn back into the twenty-four year old man he's supposed to be?! \n\n\"Okay,\" I start, breaking the silence, \"what happened?\" \n\n\"I woke up, too goddamn early if you ask me, and I went to rub my eyes and saw these fucking baby hands coming at me. So, I'm thinking, 'oh shit i'm still alseep.' Wrong. I get out of bed and realize I'm the same goddamn height of the bed! I about shit my pants, let me tell you. I run to the bathroom to confirm the worst, and now I'm in full panic mode 'cuz here's the scraggily twerp standing on top of a goddamn chair staring at me through the mirror.\" \n\nHe stops to take another swig of beer, and I can only pray that no one walks by close enough to see me allowing this forbidden act. \n\n\"It's then I realize that my clothes fit me perfectly- as if I'd been a kid this whole fucking time. I haven't, by the way, so you can stop giving me that goddamn look. I ain't lying!\" \n\n\"Sorry,\" I mutter. \n\n\"Yea you better be. Well anyway, I change into these goddamn clothes and race out of my house. So I'm running down the street like a chicken with my head cut off when I see this damn grandma coming at me, and I'm thinking, 'yea I do not want to fucking deal with her. She'll probably have a goddamn heart attack!' So I bolt up a house, and now I'm here.\" \n\nI prop my elbows up on the table, rubbing my hands up and down my face. I am honestly way too inexperienced to handle this, but I know the story- I'm officially in too deep now. I get up, grabbing a beer out of the fridge for myself. I pop it open and lean back against the kitchen counter, taking a long swig. \n\n\"Okay.\" I cannot believe I'm about to say this. \"I'll help.\" \n\n(part 2 if you guys want it) " ]	3
	[WP] Possible side effects include extinction.	[ "God looked upon the self assembled IKEA comet that he had purchased earlier in the day. He stroked his fingers along his beard and hmmmmed at the warning printed alongside the box. \n\nGod shook his head for a moment. He considered his options. \n\n\"Oh, what's life without a little excitement,\" he said. \"Those lizards are tough little animals. I bet they can take it.\"", "To: wombachtCeo@trojan.com\n\nFrom: johnbi@trojan.com\n\nImportance: High\n\nDear sir, \n\nThis is my 13th email to you about this. I'm not sure if you have read any of my previous emails, but this matter is of utmost importance.\n\nAs more data is coming in, the patterns are getting stronger. Our company's trillion dollar baby, the first condom on the planet that assures 100% contraception, appears to be doing more permanent damage. Over 87% of couples who have visited fertility clinics over the last 3 months have used our condom in the past. The correlation is impossible to miss. \n\nI have spoken to Mark Singer from our research labs and asked him to look into possible long term effects of the chemicals we use to build that product. No one from the public has raised any concerns yet because they don't have access to the kind of data we do, but time is running out quickly. Its only a matter of time before someone makes sense of it all. We should stop production and sales immediately until more research is done. \n\nI have attached all my analysis to this email. \n\nHoping you will read and respond to this one! \n\n-John\n________________________________\n\nTo: johnbi@trojan.com \n\nFrom: wombachtCeo@trojan.com \n\nJohn, \n\nWe're going to add a line to the usage instructions and precautions we print on the covers. \n\nThank you for the great work. \n\n-W" ]	2
	[WP] Just for fun, a witch bestows you with the power to magically form cream cheese at will between any two surfaces that you see when they make contact. So far you have only used it on your morning bagel but today you decide to be more creative with it. For better or for worse.	[ "I slowly munch on my morning bagel as Rachel comes into the living room. Half dressed, hair barely done, no makeup. I check the clock. 7:54. She's going to be late for class, again. She's lucky she's pretty and her professor has a weak spot for girls with puppy eyes. Too bad the inside isn't as pretty as the outside.\n\nRachel hops around the apartment, grabbing her bag and some clothes she 'dropped', when she brought that dude with her last night, and flies off into the bathroom. I keep munching. No class for me today. Something falls to the floor. Light and plastic, probably her toothbrush. Rachel curses. I almost feel bad for her. \n\nShe hasn't has breakfast yet. A bowl with cereal in it stand ready to be filled with milk, but the carton's almost empty. If she's going to dose herself in lactose, she might as well have fun with it. As should I. Just a harmless prank.\n\nI walk over to the fridge, open the lid and close it. I wish for cream cheese to puff up inside the carton, and before I know the cream already starts leaking in. Fully loaded. Hope she likes cream cheese as much as I do. I quickly grab a marker and write SARAH'S CREAM CHEESE on it. That how she insists we mark things in this place. By writing our names on it. Fine with me.\n\nI sit back down and get back to munching. Rachel bursts out the door. Brushed her hair, applied basic makeup, fully clothed. What wonders stress can achieve when it drives a person correctly is a sight to behold, considering she did all of that in less then 2 minutes. I can't get out of bed within 30 minutes of waking up.\n\nShe hopscotches to the kitchen, pulling a slip-on shoe over her foot. The fridge opens and she hauls out the carton, but she doesn't pay attention to the weight because she probably thinks it's full. She pours it over the cereal and the cream cheese rolls right onto it.\n\n\"What the FUCK !?\"\n\nA childish glee rises up from my belly. It's like I'm teasing my baby brother all over again. Good times.\n\n\"Sarah! Why did you stuff the milk with your cheese shit ?!\"\n\n\"I have to keep it somewhere. It's not like I can spawn it from thin air. Besides, the carton was empty. Might as well use it for something.\"\n\nRachel gets a rather furious look on her face and walks up to me, practically throwing the bowl on the table, almost spilling all the precious cheese over my shirt.\n\n\"A little warning would be nice next time.\" \n\n\"You do realise I've got it marked for what I use it for ?\"\n\n\"Whatever.\"\n\nAnd just like that, she walks, or almost jogs, out of the apartment. I look at the bowl with cream cheese in it, and an idea comes onto me. I dip the bagel in the sludge and take a bite. Delicious. I am a genius.\n\n\n", "OK, yes, the witch had given Olsen a superpower. Technically.\n\nThat's what you do, of course, when you're young and you find out your cousin is magic; you ask for super powers. Suzy wasn't that powerful yet, though. She was older and smarter than he was, but had plenty to learn. Worse still, she had yet to master the art of countering irony.\n\nBecause, as I'm sure you can guess, Olsen now had the power to generate Cream Cheese between any two touching surfaces, but he was lactose intolerant.\n\n &nbsp;\n\nThe first test had been mostly successful; Olsen's father was busy in the kitchen making a chocolate bagel sandwich. The old man was shocked when he took the first bite - incredibly confused, even - but the end result wasn't all that bad, so he continued on regardless.\n\nNext, the two decided to play on the patio, only to find their mothers there, happily catching up. \n\"Watch this-\" Olsen whispered, ready to strike as his aunt sat in a chair, but Suzy quickly grabbed his hand to lead him out to the front instead. \n\"Maybe we should find somewhere we won't get in the way\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHave you ever skidded across the thin ice lining a street on a cold winter morning? You get it right, and it feels like skating. The slathering sound of cream cheese curdling beneath your feet does surprisingly little to ruin the fun. Surely you've seen a family unpacking their luggage from a car at least once, but have you ever witnessed the sheer look of disgust they exude as they peel two suitcases apart? Let me tell you; You haven't lived till you've seen a pompous cat slip off a fence in a frenzy of fresh clotted milk.\n\n(In case you're worried, the cat survived the fall with ease. In fact it seemed quite pleased with the meal it had found, although Suzy was quick to clean up the cheese streaks on the driveway, and the little lactose pool that had formed beneath a startled dog)\n\nThen they found the tennis balls.\n\nSuzy dodged the first throw easily, and the second seemed to slow down enough for her to pluck it from the air. Olsen was not so fast, and was hit square between his eyes. Surprisingly it didn't hurt, but Suzy was roaring with laughter.\n\n\"You! -! It hit! -! The cream! -! I can't!!!\"\n\nOlsen started to gag as the sodden mascarpone slid down his face, feverishly wiping it away before it got anywhere near his mouth. Another ball hit him roundly in the stomach, but, again, it ricocheted harmlessly away in a cloud of cheese! \nSuzy could barely contain herself. This was amazing! She wiped away tears of laughter as she searched for more projectiles, only to find that the world quickly slipping from beneath her feet, then rising sharply up to catch her again.\n\n\"AHHH-HAHA! You LITTLE!\" - A quick flick of the wrist sent a small vortex of air racing toward the brat, knocking him down in turn. As he hit the ground, an explosion of dairy products broke his fall with a resounding 'Squelch-fart-floop', and they both burst into a fit of giggles. While on his back, through grinning eyes, Olsen caught sight of the room he was staying in - an attic conversion with the window almost directly above him, tauntingly open. Suzy had already begun vanishing the cheese-angel her cousin had left in the grass as he got to his feet. He now had a calling, and was already sprinting towards the front door before Suzy could realise his plan.\n\n\"No, no no! Olsen, wait!\"\n\n &nbsp;", "\"Fuck bagels. What the hell is it about bagels that gets everyone's dick so hard? The bread is fucking thick and dense, they do not have a particular taste and they are made with a hole - A HOLE! That means there's less food. What's the fun in having less food? Stupid people like bagels so everyone is stupid. Shit like this makes me hate humanity\" \n\nThis was the last real conversation I had with Krystyna. She's a pretty girl from Brooklyn who, when she smiles, reminds me of the devil. \n\n\"Your the only idiot that doesn't like bagels. Everyone loves bagels except you, making you the problem.\" She explains. \n\nLater that night we watched a movie and passed out. When I woke up the next morning she was gone. I see that I received a text from her that read: \n\n\"MORNING! Remember when you jokingly told me that I have the eyes of the devil? Well you were on to something. I'm actually a 3000 year old witch that is forever fighting boredom. Now that you know this I am afraid we cannot hangout anymore but I'll still watch you from a distance and see how you adapt to your new ability. Grab two parts of a bagel and put them together and think 'cream cheese' HAVE FUN!\"\n\nFeeling a ting of heart break I go ahead and try this. Being the comic book nerd that I am, I never put something to the realm of impossibly. What am I a defeatist? That's an errand for idiots. Lo and behold I find the top and bottom to a bagel and put them together and\n\n\"HOLY SHIT WHERE DID THE CREAM CHEESE COME FROM!!!\"\n\nIt's been 5 years since I received my gift. For a while I used it to make my breakfast but lately I have been using it for drunken acts of homicide. I forgot to mention earlier that I had a drinking problem since I was 16 which often resulted in fits of rage and violence. My misguided anger has led me to this. That Egyptair crash that happened yesterday? Cream cheese in the engine, sweetie. I can fuck up anything that has moving parts in. Try swallowing a pill and I'll fill your esophagus with cream cheese until you suffocate. Remember when Hilary started to randomly have a coughing fit during one of her rally's earlier this year? Cream cheese between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. I'm glad she didn't die because I have big plans for a fixed bet during her and Trump's next debate. I don't feel bad about killing people because so many of them love bagels. So if you happen to be part 50 car pile up on the Brooklyn-queens expressway tomorrow during rush hour then I'm sorry and I hope you didn't get too hurt. \n", "It was cool at first. Silly, but cool. While making bagel breakfasts, I used to fantasise about opening up a cream cheese factory and making a killing. I'd vividly imagine enormous machinery slowly coming together and voila! Cream cheese!\n\nSomething changed though. I'm not quite sure what. Maybe I lost control, or the power started growing exponentially. Maybe I started to fear it a little. I dunno. But something changed.\n\nThe first time I lost control, I was having lunch with colleagues. Ngozi, the cute girl from marketing, was vividly describing her awesome Bali vacation. There was a joke. We all laughed. I love her laugh. It's so unrestrained. So pure. \n\nHer laughter subsided. I distinctly recall my gaze lingering on her mouth. Her lips were closing and just as they touched, her eyes flew wide open and she spat out a mouthful of cream cheese.\n\nSomeone tittered nervously. But we were largely concerned and a little shocked. I, well, I was shitting myself. In hindsight, obviously no one could trace it back to me, but I freaked out and ran to the bathroom.\n\nI stepped into the first cubicle, turned to close the door, and just as the door made contact with the frame, cream cheese oozed out from all the edges.\n\nI staggered back and sat down. I think the seat might have been up. That wasn't on my mind though. Only one word was.\n\nFuck. \n\nFuck. Fuck. Fuck. ", "When I was 16, I had just left my friends party. \n\nI can't remember much of the night but I do remember bits and pieces. I was making my way home with a few friends and they thought it would be great to stop at the local carnival, see the seer and give her a tip.\n\nSure I thought as I walked into her tent. She was sitting there as you'd think around a crystal ball. As we sat down around her she looked me dead in the eye and said \"may the cheese be with you\".\n\nMy friends looked startled, as she had just blurted this out. She then started chanting something like a song/lullaby. In an instant all my friends and I had passed out. Next thing you know I'm in my bed home in the morning. I call my friends and ask them what the hell happened last night!\n\nThey say we went home after the party and all part ways. What I thought? We definitely went to the local carnival....\n\nLong story short the morning 2 weeks after the event I was hungry. I put a bagel on and went to make a coffee. The bagel popped up and I grabbed it with both hands. I touched it a certain way and boom, instantly the two surfaces filled with cream cheese.\n\nI drop the bagel and it splatters everywhere. I quickly clean it up and throw it away. \n\nInitially it was just the bagel, I filled with cream cheese. No one knew. Then after a while I did it with bread, doughnuts, pastry you name it. \n\nWhen I did knew it was unlimited and I really had no downside I started to test it against buildings, inanimate objects, wonders of the world you name it.\n\nI went to the Golden Gate Bridge. Between two pillars and started excreting cream cheese. It came out so fast and it filled up a tenth of the bridge. \n\nOne thing led to another and I slipped off the side as I filled up tones and tones of cream cheese. As I fell my life flashed before my eyes. I was 50m away from the water and covered my face.\n\nI was hovering in the air jetting out cream cheese which was supporting my body weight. I had stopped and now was hovering like iron man does but with cream cheese.\n\nI had learnt how to fly, and glided off. What a fucking great day.\n\nI flew home so fast and left cream cheese in my wake.\n\nThe next morning it was all over the news, hoses were covered in rotting cream cheese and the stench was horrendous. Apparently the cream cheese pollution in the water and on the bridge was so bad it cost the state 22 million dollars.\n\nI didn't care though, I had just learned how to fly.\n\n" ]	5
	[WP] Covered in blood and grinning, you emerge from your house. But no one has been killed. Why are you so happy?	[ "I'm usually very conscious of my behaviour and activities, especially in my rather conservative neighbourhood, but it was that time of the year again; I simply couldn't contain my giddiness and cheer. I whistled a cheerful tune as I walked up to my front lawn and began to position the sign on my lawn and started to hammer it into place.\n\nTaking a step back, I considered the contents of the sign: \"رمضان مبارك - Happy Ramadan! We Are Happy To Invite Everyone To An Open Dinner! Free Food For The Less Fortunate!\" Grinning once more, I turned around to find my lovely wife leaning against our house's door and watching me with a smile. \"You think anyone is gonna take us up on our offer, Layla?\" I inquired as I strolled back inside.\n\n\"Honey, we're in the middle of Biblebelt, Nebrahoma. I think this is more of a deterrent than an invitation, really,\" she quipped with a chuckle, shutting the door behind her as she entered alongside me. I just shrugged back at her, \"Oh well. I'll go finish skinning the lamb. Don't forget to make extra food, just in case, alright?\"", "\"GET DOWN ON THE GROUND MOTHERFUCKER! THE PLACE IS SURROUNDED!\" screamed the officer. Obviously, this was one huge misunderstanding, but without a lot of time to explain that, I decided to just get down and avoid being shot if all possible. The officers swarmed me, flipped me onto my stomach and pressed their knees into my back. The concrete walkway in front of my house tasted awful if you couldn't imagine. The hoisted me up after I was cuffed and tossed me into the back of a cruiser. There was 3 of them outside my house, and 6 officers, a news van and all my neighbors were outside crowding to see what really happened. What a way to spend my Saturday afternoon. When I got to the station, the detective immediately ripped into me. \"Sir, would you to explain all of the commotion your neighbors phoned in about? And why not only you, but your entire living room was covered in blood?\" he asked. \"Well detective, it's a funny story, and I promise it's going to sound weird but please just hear me out,\" I replied. \"So I'm deathly, and I mean deathly afraid of rodents. I always have been. Rats, ferrets, rabbits, you name it and I'm a big slobbering mess if I see one. It's an irrational fear.. I know, but when I was a little kid, I was attacked by a feral raccoon and I just never really got over it. Any kind of rodent sends me into a panic attack and I freak the fuck out.. \" The officer gave me a confused look before he started back into me. \"What the heck does that have to do with all the blood and noise? Your neighbors swore they heard screaming from more than one person, almost like an argument was breaking out before loud bangs started happening.\" I wasn't being clear enough, I guess I should just get right to the point and tell the officer what happened. \"I have a cat, right? So I have a cat door on the door connecting the backyard and garage to my house. Well, my cat didn't come through the door, a ginormous raccoon did, and I swear he was blood lusted. The screams the neighbors heard were me, screeching like a little girl when this thing came into the kitchen, foaming mouth and all. I probably jumped 10 feet into the air. I scrambled, running into my kitchen table, knocking just about anything I could off my kitchen counter to try and distract the bastard and went into a dead sprint through the living room too. The bastard followed me and I was jumping from couch to coffee table and back to the couch, falling, flailing around and scrambling to regain my footing as the raccoon stalked me around the house.\" The detectives face went from confused to angry. \"You're trying to tell me.. that you're covered in raccoon blood, the screaming was all you, the commotion was you trying to escape the raccoon, and I'm supposed to just believe that?\" He asked. \"Well if you don't believe me officer, DNA test the blood, check the house for anyone else who you think I was fighting with and get back to me when you find the dead raccoon along with injuries from everything I hit him with. He was a tough bastard but I came out on top. I mean, what else did you expect me to do? Handle it like a responsible adult?\" I joked. ", "I knew I looked like I was crazy. I was covered in blood and grinning like a madman. I knew it was likely that the police would be called if anyone saw me, but that didn't stop me from going outside and basking in the warm glow of the sun.\n\nAfter 9 months of my wife and I being told that, in all likelihood, our baby would be born with Edwards Syndrome, which would give our child a maximum of 18 months, my wife had given birth.\n\nFor a time, the thought of bringing a child into the world with such a short amount of time to live seemed cruel. we considered terminating, but decided against it. It was a painful process, but regardless, my wife and I decided to make the most of a grim situation. We vowed to love our child the same way we would a healthy child (god, I hated having to make that comparison). \n\nWhen I woke up this morning, my wife was in labor. We had no time to call our midwife, so I sat her in the tub and gripped her hands as our beautiful child was brought into the world. \n\nWhen I lifted our newly-born son, I felt an undeniable surge of happiness. My wife and I created this. A beautiful child, with rosy cheeks and pale skin like his mom.\n\nWhen we went in for genetic testing, the doctor told us that we would be able to see signs of Edwards at birth, such as a misshapen head. \n\nBut our son looked normal. He was crying and squirming and he looked...healthy. I sat in the tub with my wife while we sobbed in joy and relief. I knew we would have to keep an eye on him and take him in for appointments, but for now, all I cared about was keeping my family together for as long as possible.", "In the wise words of my father, a man I respect dearly. The man who took me to T-Ball, the man who taught me how to use a knife properly, and supported me through some of my more interesting life phases. To the man I learned how to be a true man, because \"A real man loves her all month long.\"" ]	4
	[WP] A creepy story set on the International Space Station	[ "Why do we go on vacation?\n\nSo we can come home. The vacation part is just a lousy excuse to make you miss where you come from so that when you return, you'll appreciate it more. After all, our homes are designed by us. They're a place where we can feel infinitely safe and comfortable. They're a place we can remain forever. That's why you always hear stories of people who visit the mountainous regions of Mongolia, only to sell their shore side, Las Angeles home to move to a place they only ever intended on visiting. Some places are so alluring, they'll redefine your meaning of the word home.\n\nHome, for me, is in Akron, Ohio. A lawn with a couple apple trees, my television, my beige, multi-stage recliner with cup holders and my two little dogs. With the perspective I've operating at currently, this is heaven.\n\nSo why in the hell would I ever want to become an astronaut? How much farther away from home can you get than in space? Well, I imagined space in much of the same vain that most people imagine the Bahamas or anywhere else equally likely to harbor hordes of desperate tourists trying to recreate the same feeling of home in a place that's anything but. To me, sitting in that recliner, guzzling alcohol and watching sports, that's the most content I've ever been. It feels like I'm floating in space.\n\nBut you can always get too comfortable. That's something I learned from a very early age. That's the smartest reason to take a vacation: to avoid complacency. You need to live without it for a while to understand what you had.\n\nSitting in that rocket, flying warp speed towards the ISS, having my organs squashed against my seat that buffeted around like I was on a roller coaster, this shit was anything but my cozy recliner. They didn't even have any cup holders. \n\n\"How much more of this do we have to take?\" I squeaked through my suit's intercom.\n\nCaptain Holloway's level headed laugh came crackling back through. \"Those boys up there have been trapped in that tin can for five months past their mission's deadline. I'm sure you can handle a few more minutes.\"\n\nFive months. \n\nHave you ever missed a flight while traveling, forcing you to stay in the airport for a night? Imagine that for five months, but if you leave the airport, your eyes will jettison out of your skull. A crew of six men scheduled to oversee the functions of the ISS for a year. They did their duty, it's time to come home, then they find the return module is jammed.\n\nAnd space travel is expensive. It took us three failed attempts and almost eight hundred million dollars to put together a retrieval mission for them, five months after the day they were supposed to come home. I wonder if they have beige recliners that they miss. I'd pay to see the looks on their faces when they get to sit in them again.\n\nThe first thing I noticed when we made it to the ISS was how dark it was. The six crew members broke contact a week ago. In fact, all electronics on the station had failed. No one knows why, and they still won't until we bust open the door and find out. \n\nThe next thing I noticed was all the supply rockets, floating around the station like a bunch of tiny moons. The ISS' resupply missions had continued unhindered and we had assumed the crew were using them to stay alive, but if they had, then they would be inside, not floating around the ship. Immediately, we all knew they were dead. Whatever had happened, it wouldn't look anything like this if there was still life inside.\n\n\"Open the hatch,\" Halloway demanded, so I gave the lever a heavy tug and the airlock to the ISS slid open with a metallic sheen. Halloway and I stared into the darkness. It wasn't that different from the void of space. \n\n\"Flashlights,\" he said. So we did. We flicked them on and illuminated the corridors. Nothing, just NASA's gizmos and gadgets decorating the walls and empty space to float around in everywhere else. And a small clicking noise. I couldn't tell what it was because other than that, the entire place was silent. I've been on a spaceship before and they usually have some sort of a hum, but this ship... This ship was dead. Halloway had me take point. Obviously. \n\nWe swam through the air, through the botanical hub full of wilting, unattended plants, through the cafeteria, with empty packages of freeze dried food floating about, and then through the piloting center, where the electrical panels had been ripped off and wires strewn about in every direction, suspended in the air by zero gravity, they looked like the tentacles of a sea monster.\n\nStill no signs of life though. Funny, because this used to be a universal home for humanity. A place for the bravest and best to reside as they broke new ground and conquered new frontiers. Now though, nothing. Just that odd clicking sound that was noticeably louder at this point. I sprayed my flashlight's glare over the walls, looking for anything, until it fell upon a sign that read: Sleeping Quarters.\n\n\"Hey captain. How about this?\" I questioned, pointing to the sign. He nodded and offered me the honors of opening the door. \n\nI gripped the handle, the rubber on my suit's glove squeaking as I did so. This was beginning to get unnerving for me, but I thought if they were still here, they'd be in their bedroom.\n\nSo I opened the door and shined my flashlight inside.\n\nThe first thing I noticed, surprisingly, were the little red specks of blood that drifted through the air. Some pattered against the glass of my helmet, making morbid little patterns. \n\n\"Jesus.\" I let the word out with an exhalation. Suspended in the air, much like the wires, several bodies. Their skin turned a pasty white, their eyes wide open, blood pulled from out of their mouths, eyes, and the slits in their necks into the air, this was the crew and this is why they weren't responding. \n\n\"They all have their throats cut, sir. How the hell did that happen?\" Halloway pulled himself into the room behind me, brow furrowed, analyzing. I assumed he didn't hear me, so I said again, \"Sir?\"\n\nHe put his hand up, one finger extended and pointed at each one of the bodies. \"One, two, three, four... five.\" He stared at me. \"Where's the last one?\"\n\nNow, the clicking didn't actually get any louder. but had you asked me then, I'd swear it did. And it was coming from the other door in the pilot's hub. I asked Halloway if he could hear it too. He could. So at least I wasn't going insane.\n\nI took the lead again. It was like a geiger counter, the closer we got, the louder it became, until it was so loud we could hear it through the door. Before I opened it, I shone my flashlight on the wall for a sign and found one. It said: Escape Pod.\n\n\"Hold on,\" Halloway whispered, putting his hand up. He balled it into a fist, then knocked it on the door a few times.\n\nThe clicking stopped.\n\n\"Have you come to take me home?\"\n\nHalloway smiled at me, then fumbled for his suit's external mic switch before saying, \"Crewman Garrett? Is that you?\"\n\n\"The rest of the crew is in their sleeping quarters. I suggest you gather them,\" the voice said.\n\n\"We've been to the sleeping quarters. Garrett... I'm sorry to tell you this, but the rest of the crew is deceased.\"\n\n\"TAKE THEM!\" His voice came to us as a distorted screech. Suddenly, the doors to the escape pod were pulled open and our flashlights illuminated a man in navy blue crew man attire with a name patch reading 'Garrett.' He was soaked in blood, from his face to his hands and clutched in one of his fists was a standard issue serrated knife.\n\n\"All they did was complain anyway! I miss this, I remember that, the first thing I'm gonna' do when I get back is blah, blah, blah! I don't give a fuck!\" He held the knife at face level, demanding we step back. His eyes were welled up with tears.\n\n\"I like it here. The freedom of floating around, isolation in every direction. They tell us we have to stay here for another five months, I say why not another fifteen? So I cut some wires. So they yell at me. So I killed them.\" With his empty hand, he clutched a handful of his own hair and his face turned red, redder than it already was. \"All they ever talked about was going home! Well this is my home, but they've ruined it! All the doors are locked. I can't get rid of them. So just take them home and leave me alone!\"\n\nThen Halloway did something really stupid. He pressed a button on his wrist and said, \"Houston, we have one of the six. The other five are nill.\"\n\nYou could see Garrett's mind snap.\n\nHe lunged for Halloway, driving the knife directly into his chest. I don't know how to describe what happened next because I immediately turned around and started pulling myself down the corridors back to my ship.\n\nI've never run as fast as I floated that day. With a hole punched size beam of light as my guide, I rocketed through the empty, silent halls all the way back to my ship and shut the airlock in record time. \n\nThis whole situation was fucked. I just wanted to go home. I just wanted my recliner. I just wanted to leave Garrett to his wretched world. What were we gonna' do? Bring him home? He was already there.\n\nThe good news was I knew how to pilot this thing, so after fumbling with the controls for a moment, I got the engines running and my shuttle was ready for its return trip. I've never felt so much relief being in a brightly lit spaceship. It even had its electrical hum back. \n\nI pressed the headquarters communication button on the control panel and said, \"Houston, we've got a bad situation aboard the ISS. Crew member Garrett attacked Captain Halloway. I suspect he's... I think he's...\"\n\nSomething wasn't right.\n\nI tapped the communications button a second time. \n\n\"Houston?\"\n\nStill nothing. Normally a response would come in a few seconds or less, but nothing. Just dead air fuzz.\n\nAnd then the lights went off. And the space shuttle stopped humming.\n\nAnd in a crystal clear, echoing, almost omnipresent tone, I heard Garrett's voice distinctly say, \"Home, sweet home.\"", "Two hundred and forty-nine miles. That's how far up we were. If you want off the international space station its a long way down, and you better hold your breath.\n\n\"Damn it.\" That was Smith. She was our flight engineer. She had just spent the last fifteen mints ripping apart the radio and putting it back together. \n\n\"I feel as though you could not fix it.\" Delov said to her. Delov was our scientist on loan from Russia.\n\n\"I could fix it if it was broke. They just don't want to talk to us.\"\n\n\"NASA doesn't just break off radio contact.\" That last bit was me. Commander Lisa Petit. \n\nI floated by Smith and started messing with the radio myself. \"Have you tried the emergency ban?\"\n\n\"Commander with all due respect that was one of the first things I did. Right now its set to cycle through all NASA channels and other military broadcast. I'm telling you Ma'am no one wants to talk to us.\"\n\nI just couldn't wrap my head around that. All of history no space program a purposely cut all contact with a crew.\n\n\"Maybe they can not talk to us?\" There was that Russian optimism at work.\n\nI pushed off the wall and turn in place to face Delov. \"What does that mean?\"\n\nDelov let out a breath. \"Bad weather, disaster... War. Many things come to mind.\"\n\nI knew he could be right but my gut told me there was more to it. \"I don't kn-\"\n\n\"Perhaps I could also offer a solution to our problem. I could contact Roscosmos, I know the correct frequency.\"\n\n\"You want to call the Russian space program,\" asked Smith.\n\n\"Da. If your first date says no might as well ask anther girl.\"\n\nBefore Smith could say anymore I put a hand on Delov shoulder and pushed him to the radio. \"I'm going to regret this but do it.\"\n\nDelov takes over the radio. With a few nobs turn he has it set to the right channel. \"Входите Королев . Войдите.\"\n\nFor a long time there was no answer, Delov was about to repeat when the speakers burst to life. \"Это официальный канал говермент . Вы находитесь-\"\n\nHope washed over us as Delov cut the other man off. \"Космонавт Делов , код , один , восемь, три, девять. Репортаж с международной космической станции . Мы нуждаемся-\"\n\n\"Карантин , нет контакта . Завершение передачи .\" You didn't have to speak Russian in order to hear how cold that mans voice went. \n\n\"Карантин? Здравствуйте? Здравствуйте? ...Блядь!\"\n\nThe three of us had spent a months together training and here on the station. That was the first time I had seen Delov lose his cool, it would be the last.\n\n\"Delov, what the hell just happen,\" I asked out of desperation.\n\nTalking a moment to collect himself Delov at lasted answered. \"Quarantined, he said we were quarantined and that they had to break contact.\"\n\n\"What? That doesn't make any by-God since.\" Smith said ringing a hand over her hair. \"Why would a quarantine mean not talking to us.\"\n\nI shook my head. \"None of this is adding up. I-\" The whole station shook slight, and the lights flickered for a moment. \"Everyone get to-\"\n\n\"Look!\" Smith pointed out a view port.\n\nWe all gathers around to see what we could. Drifting slowly away from us was the Soyuz lifeboat meant to be out last resort, or if you like, our only way home. In no way was the Soyuz damaged, no debris floating around it. The others turned to me as I let out a long breath.\n\n\"Someone would have had to do that. There's an intruder on board...\" " ]	2
	[WP] Love isn't free	[ "I want to find love – thought Todd. \n\nHe was a little above average person. Nothing too significant has happened in Todd’s life and it was time for a change. \n\nTodd was educated enough with a secure job and a solid income. “That’s a good start”- someone would say and would be right. He was a man who wanted to impregnate a woman and then lives happily for the rest of his life. Enough with the building up. Here’s where the story goes. \n\n– “Mom, where I can find true love?” \n\n– “I’m busy putting in order your crispy socks, son.” she said casually.\n \n– “Oh, mom.”\n\nTodd was tired of crispy socks, he needed a change. The wisest person known to him was his grandfather and that was the obvious choice for advice seeking. \n\n– “Granddad, did you truly love grandma?” Todd asked while leaving the silver teaspoon on the table. \n\n– “For a while, Todd. Perhaps, the first three years.” the old man answered sincerely. – “Then, it goes away like an over-enjoyed ice cream. You love it the first thousand and sixty-five times, but then suddenly you get sick of it and can’t look at it at the same way. That’s love!” A happy tear dropped off his wrinkled face. \n\n– “But, is it possible to love anyone forever?\" \n\n– “Maybe, it is. An old friend of mine told me that love isn’t free. And I think she was right. Be careful what you wish for Todd, because you may need to pay off.” \n\n– “Who was she?” \n\n– “The oracle. Here’s her address.” The grandfather took a yellowish piece of paper out of his pocket and handwrote the street. \n\nTodd left his seat and said goodbye to his beloved granddad. Three hours later, Todd was drinking a cup of tea with the oracle, chatting with her about the questions of life. \n\n – “So, can you help me find love, Ms. Oracle?” \n\n– “Of course, but love isn’t free.” \n\n– “What’s it going to cost me” Todd asked insecurely. \n\n– “$ 99.99”\n", "\"Love isn't freeing. It's consuming. Deadly. It eats away at you until there's none of 'you' left. It reforms you - remoulds you. There's a reason Donne's Batter My Heart holy sonnet is written as though God is his lover. A reason it speaks about being imprisoned.\n\n\"Love means you are loyal. You don't stray to others even when you may want to. You come back home from a hard day at work and you kiss your love hello and sit down with them for dinner. Sure, you might miss a few dinners to hang out with friends and family, but you always come home to your love. You are 'tied down', so to speak.\n\n\"Okay, maybe I'm being a little harsh. You can have a few free days - maybe you take a trip to a mountainous area and your cabin is on a mountain and you wake up each morning together feeling on top of the world. Or you go to one of those plate smashing therapy sessions and you both get out your anger side by side and you both feel victorious for it.\n\n\"But ultimately, you aren't free. You have a person to care for - someone to put before you; someone to shield from harm. You have to devote your time to this person. You will likely have to sacrifice a great deal for them. And if you have kids? Even more will have to be sacrificed. You may even sacrifice your sanity, or the hobbies that make you sane, so they can have the best.\n\n\"And with a family comes responsibility: you can't just leave your job. You might have to start thinking about getting a mortgage on a house. Maybe a family car instead of the motorbike you usually ride. You can't just jet off around the world for an adventure without lugging your wife, kids and all the toys they want to bring with you. All these new responsibilities mean less freedom for you; they tie you to a people and to a place.\n\n\"But you know what? I've seen Jeff change in these ways already. Over the twenty years that I've known him, he's gone from dumb goofball to mortgage-ready man. And I really think that Maurice has made him better. So here's to you both. You deserve all the happiness in the world.\" Stanley raised his glass. There was a pause which lasted a fraction of a second too long before everyone else raised their glasses.\n\n\"To Jeff and Maurice.\" Stanley said. They room echoed as people repeated his words back to him, then a short silence followed as everyone took a sip. A few people glanced at one another and raised their eyebrows, not wanting to say what was on the other person's mind.\n\n\"Right... thank you, Stanley, for that... enlightening speech.\" Jeff's dad, Patrick, said. \"Next up is Derrick from Silchmore with a very special message for the man and wife.\"", "\"I love you,\" you tell her as the light fades from her eyes. You grip your last 20 dollar bill in your fist. First your job, then your apartment, now the love of your life. You look to the sky and ask why. Why you? What had you done to deserve such a shitty roll? \nYou sit there, her lifeless body in your arms, contemplating the bill. You could stretch it out, feed yourself for a few days while you work yourself back to your feet. You could even just get a 12 pack and get nice and drunk and forget about your dumb luck. Endless possibilities flow through your mind as you flatten out the crumpled 20. You don't even hesitate as you set the edge on her lips. She buzzes as the currency is accepted. \n\"I love you too\" ", "The living room was spotless, Ryan could mirror himself in every surface and serve dinner on the floor if he wanted. His darling was sitting on the floor, discarded polishing cloths crumbled around her, furiously bringing the silver candlestick to a greater shine than it had when he bought it. He sighed and crouched down in front of her, gently removing the candlestick from her hands. He put it down next to them and cupper her hands in his, feeling the cold and stickiness from the polishing compound.\n\n\n“But I want you to love me” \n\n “You don’t have to clean to make me love you.” \n\n“But do you not have to earn love?” \n\n“No, everyone is worthy of love.” \n\n“Not everybody loves me.” \n\n“That’s true, but…” \n\n“Not everybody is loved.” \n\n“That’s also true, I suppose, but…” \n\n“It is because they have not earned it. Because they do not deserve it.” \n\n“No! Where do you get these ideas?” \n\n“They tell me themselves.” \n\n“Some people think that, but everyone deserves love.” \n\n“Why?” \n\n“Well, I… They do. Everyone is unique and worthy of love.” \n\n“So they earn it by being unique?” \n\n“No. They don’t earn it, they don’t have to earn it. They should just get it.” \n\n“Why? Is a rock worthy of love?” \n\n“A rock doesn’t need love.” \n\n“What is the difference?” \n\n“A rock doesn’t have any feelings, it doesn’t get lonely and it can’t make you laugh.” \n\n“So the differences between a rock and a person means the person deserves love?” \n\n “Well, I… I suppose you could put it that way.” \n\n“So people earn love by not being like rocks?” \n\n“No, they don’t have to earn it.” \n\n“What if a person was like a rock?” \n\n“That doesn’t make any sense. A person can’t be like a rock.” \n\n“But all people deserve love?” \n\n“Yes. Or, no. I mean, at least most people. I mean, everyone starts out deserving love.” \n\n“So you do not love everyone?” \n\n“Well, you can’t really love Hitler, can you?” \n\n“Did not Eva Braun love him?” \n\n“Heh… I suppose she did. I guess there are some people who get love they don’t deserve, and others who don’t get love they do deserve.” \n\n“So you can lose it?” \n\n“Lose what?” \n\n“This vague quality that make people worthy of love. Hitler lost this quality?” \n\n“I suppose he did. Or perhaps he buried it under other qualities worthy of hate.” \n\n“If you can lose it, then you must also earn it. So love must be earned.” \n\n“No, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. All people deserve love, until some people don’t deserve it anymore, I guess. But you don’t have to earn it. I mean… It’s complicated.” \n\n“Do you love all people equally?” \n\n“No. I have some people I care about more than others, though I feel for every person out there. Love is something that connects us to people we haven’t met, what makes it hard to read about disasters in distant parts of the world.” \n\n“Why do you love some more than others?” \n\n“Well… They’re the people I know, the people I spend time with, we’ve been there for each other and we’ve had experiences together.” \n\n“So physical closeness enhances love?” \n\n“Sometimes, but sometimes you dislike people close to you, and sometimes you can truly love someone who’s far away.” \n\n“What makes you love some and dislike some if all people are worthy of love?” \n\n“Well, I… Just… There’s a difference between love and love, I mean.” \n\n“I do not understand.” \n\n“I mean. I think everyone, at least when they are born, are worthy of the same amount and type of love. But I, personally, do not love everyone the same.” \n\n“So everyone is worthy of love, but people have to earn your love?” \n\n“No! Or, well. Yes, but… I don’t really know how to explain it. You just, you love some people. Because of who they are.” \n\n“And what they do?” \n\n“Yes, what they do is part of who they are. But they do things that are natural to them, and then people who value those things will want to spend time with and care for them. They don’t do things to earn love.” \n\n“So. People are loved because of who they are and what they do, but they do not do these things to earn love?” \n\n“Exactly. Or, some people do, I suppose, but they shouldn’t. They deserve love for who they are, and they shouldn’t change that by trying to earn love. People who say you have do things to earn love are taking advantage of peoples need for closeness, and they don't give true love.” \n\n“This is a confusing concept. I will go back to polishing while I consider the qualities that separate people from rocks, and from Hitler.” \n\nRyan let go of her hands and sighed as he pulled out his journal.\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n23.05.2016\n\nI am not a philosopher; I am an engineer. The companion AI is moving beyond my expertise, evolving on her own and questioning things I am not capable of answering. I worry that my inexperience and faults might color her view, turning her into a judge of people rather than their companion. I should hibernate her until I have conferred with philosophical experts and considered how to give AIs a moral that is not as biased as our own. Though I suppose the first question we should answer is whether or not I have to right to hibernate her anymore.\n", "The neon-blue sign blinked a few times as I approached it.\n\nConversation $5.00/minute\n\nHug $10.00\n\nConfession of love $10.00\n\nKiss $15.00\n\nDate $50.00/hour\n\nPrices for services not listed negotiable\n\n*NO SEX\n\nI stopped before it, blue light illuminating my face.\n\n\"Am I really that pathetic? Normal people find comfort in friendship, casual sex, hobbies, booze, drugs, anything, but not... love,\" the disgusting word almost made shiver as it rolled off my tongue. \"Why am I here again?\"\n\nI already knew how this was going to go. Once you get hooked there is no escape, no way around it. I stepped inside, my whole body shivering from the anticipation of fake words and overly-practised gazes. The receptionist accepted my hundred and professionally passed the catalogue. Still I could feel the disgust buried somewhere deep within.\n\nI tapped a photo and proceeded upstairs, trying my best to suppress the self-loathing. Thoughts raced through my head:\n\n\"This is just a one-time thing, just let off some steam and get back to being a normal person. Yeah, right, like I can be normal. Well, you have friends. Ah, who the fuck am I kidding? I spoke with like three people today and all of them looked like they couldn't wait to get over with it. There's nothing else keeping me from blowing my brains out.\"\n\n\"I'm such a failure,\" I said out loud accidentally.\n\n\"Did you say something, sir?\" the old receptionist asked, pretending as though he didn't hear.\n\n\"No, nothing...\" I paused, hesitating. \"This feels wrong, doesn't it?\"\n\nHe stopped on the stairs before slowly turning towards me, the remains of his grey hair waving slightly.\n\n\"Was it ever any different?\" I continued, coupled with a nervous laugh.\n\n\"Perhaps.\" A half-sad smile appeared on his face. \"But I think it's too late for that now.\"\n\nIn silence we continued to the room.", "I fell in love with him on a Tuesday. Even though it was so long ago, that's what I remember. I fell in love with him on a Tuesday. \n\nHe didn't fall in love with me. At least not at first. I drove him away with my edges and my brokenness. I drove him away with the stories that I told him about my past, bringing up words that were sure to plant seeds of doubt in anyone's mind. I would cry and tell him I don't cry in front of people* and he would reach up with his hand and wipe my cheek with his thumb and say it's okay. It's all okay. I would cry and say - maybe more to myself than to him - that it wasn't the person who I was. I'm usually happy. I'm usually fine.\n\nHe was a scientist. A physicist, a chemist. He collected data. He ran his fingers along my edges and felt the way that I cut him. He wrote down all my numbers and pushed my hair back as he laid next to me in bed and kissed my forehead and told me that he wasn't good at maintaining relationships. I would close my eyes to try and keep in the tears, but they inevitably came.\n\nHe said, \"Physics taught me that two people never touch. So when I brush my hands against your cheek and you press your face into my chest - what we're really doing is feeling each others absence.\" \n\nIn the dark of night I looked up at the ceiling, not-quite-touching the bed beneath me or his hand that was locked in mine. The tears were hot - tears aren't always hot, but these were. They slid down my face and I wondered if they touched me or if I was just feeling their absence, too. \n\nOn some distant subatomic level, I knew he found me repulsive. I clung to him like a magnet, convinced that I could prove to myself my worth through his acceptance. He watched me from afar, commenting as he ran his fingers through my hair. \n\nHe said, \"It's okay to feel the distance. It's okay to feel lonely. The Universe is simply trying to keep us at a distance, and were we to touch the consequences could be catastrophic.\" \n\nThe loneliness came slowly, creeping into my bones and my blood and chilling me even when he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into him. \n\n\"I am just the sum of my nothingness,\" I told him one day. He was asleep. \n\nI fell in love with him on a Tuesday. Some months later when I wanted to leave him, when I thought of how much I should leave him, there was a deep pull within me that told me to stay. It made me wonder if I would ever find someone who would love me again. What if he was the only one - what if I deserved everything about loneliness and repulsion and the way that holding him equated loneliness. \n\nI don't know if he withdrew, or if I did. If I withdrew it was in the way that I would desperately reach for him - pushing and pulling and loving and hating. It was in the way that I wanted to push him away but I wanted him to hold me tighter. That I felt those words - that I was jagged and cut and broken. That he could feel my edges. Even from far away. \n\n\"I don't want to have edges,\" I said to him.\n\n\"We can't help who we are,\" he told me. \n\nI left him on a Thursday. It was cold. I didn't leave him. He pressed me, discarded me but kept me. In our conversations I lost myself - I felt empty and lonely and sad and worthless. All of those negative adjectives that made me lie awake long after he had fallen asleep and question the same things. \n\nIt wasn't until I walked away that I realized how he saw me. An experiment in combustion. A science experiment to project when I would collapse. Collapse I had - in a spectacular explosion that was just the beginning of the physics. I am not sure if he and I expected the same remnants to rise from my ashes - if the seed of hope that sat inside my heart was worthy or worthless, or if it would be enough to bring me back.\n\nSitting by a river on a Wednesday I dipped my feet into the cold water and thought about him. It was some months later - maybe two or three. Somewhere at the point where I had stopped thinking of him but not of what he took from me. Where I thought of what love was, and if I had ever really loved him and if he had ever really loved me. And if love was really possible when he was so far away and distant and not real, and when I was so jagged and broken.\n\nIt occurred to me - with my feet in the river - that somewhere in the world he was probably thinking of me. How he would put down the source of my leaving as inertia - as the collapse and decay of natural emotions that I was not capable of stabilizing. \n\nI feel the sun on my face. I look up to the sky. A bird sings, somewhere far off.\n\nI think about how I am more than an experiment in attraction. \n\nSomewhere inside of me that seed of hope sprouts. Its branches reach through my veins and hold on to something deep down - something I am not sure that I have, but need to have faith exists. \n\nAnd I stripped myself bare for this man that I fell in love with on a Tuesday. For this man I gave everything to and who gave me so little back. And the seedling of hope stretches into my arms and legs and throat and settles in my brain. \n\nIt tells me that I am strong. That I can endure. \n\nIt tells me that somewhere inside of me there is worth. Someday, someone might even give me the same payment that I give them. \n\n---\n\nI hope you enjoyed reading :). For other stories, check out /r/Celsius232 " ]	6
	[WP] In a dystopian United States, a person becomes President by killing the previous President	[ "In living memory, this was how it was always done. Many people claimed the throne to the Great Republic every 4 years. Such was the custom, written by the Wise Fathers: every 4 years, a new President had to be chosen.\n\nIt is not remembered today where the word \"election\" came from or what it originally meant, but in modern, civilized societies, it was a triumph of the will. The pretenders to the title would organize armies called \"parties\" and meet in pitched battle. Whoever won the title would be proclaimed \"elected by the people\". While most of the losing armies were vanquished in retreat, their leaders were executed in a public spectacle called a \"concession\". ", "This will be my first and only journal entry. I've known better than keep this sort of thing written down. But now that it's all about to happen, I feel like I need to leave my story. In case things don't go my way. At least then my legacy will be one of calculation and years of effort, not mere impulse like some other presidential hopefuls.\n\nI don't come from money, so mercenaries aren't an option. I've never had the opportunity to be a war hero like Grant or Roosevelt, so I can't march an army into the White House. And the popular uprisings that men like Kennedy and Reagan rode into office seem impossible in today's climate. So I choose to work alone rather than risk a conspiracy.\n\nI realized during my time in the Army that I was in that minority of people able to fool a polygraph. For the sake of brevity I'll skip the details; suffice to say an inconsequential lie that would have landed me in a very manageable amount of trouble went unnoticed. Over a few years, it became apparent that I could lie at will without being detected. It was then that I had the first notion that I had a shot at the presidency. I resolved then and there to never voice strong political opinions.\n\nPrior to this realization, I'd been coasting through my service. I just wanted the benefits of being a veteran. I decided to get a counselor so that I could go on record as admitting that I had motivation problem and give justification for my improvements. Six months later I was winning commendations. I left the service with a stellar reputation and went to work for the FBI. My experience in Afghanistan and my service record made me an obvious choice for anti-terrorism. I wanted the job because it would put me interacting with the Secret Service on a regular basis. This job was all about networking.\n\nIt took me five years to finally get the break I needed. I was the SAC when that 16-man cell was taken down in DC just hours before they were due to launch an attack on the White House. The Service reached out to me after that. They're careful about their recruiting, and anyone eager to join is passed over. I negotiated higher salaries and made a show of taking three months to wrap up my duties at the FBI.\n\nIn my first few months, I only saw the president briefly. And I'm fairly certain the handful of \"chance\" encounters in the halls were carefully scripted to test my reactions to having a shot at an assassination. Meanwhile I spent my time getting to know the various people who really held power in the Service: the cooks, the quartermasters, the janitors. They knew things no one else knew and I learned a lot in those days.\n\nI must have passed muster, because I was told a month ago that I was due to be assigned to \"The Detail\", the group of men directly guarding the President. This brings me up to last night.\n\nI've acquired the means to access quite a lot in the past few months. Copied keys, duplicated access cards, even a recorded voice authorization. When I meet the President again today, I will be the only man in the room with a working sidearm. I'm probably going to have to shoot them all. Can't have anyone trying to upstage me before I even get to sit in the chair. As for what happens after...either you already know, or this is my suicide note." ]	2
	[WP] Very rarely people are born with a magical ability. You were born with power over toasters, and now you're the last line of defence against the demon horde.	[ "Everyone was afraid. I could see it in their eyes. Even behind the presidents stare, who looked at me with a glimpse of hope in his eyes. I preferred his stare over that of the minister of defense, who looked down on me with a cruel disapproving look. I don’t blame him though. If I was in charge of protecting a whole country, heck at this point the whole world, I wouldn’t want to rely on a 17 year old boy with powers over toasters. \n\nVery rarely people are born with a magical ability, but ever since Zeus, a human with power over lightning was discovered, a team of five was formed, taking the name magical five. Unfortunately one of those five Glados, who had power over portals, betrayed the rest forming an alliance with demons. It was about that time that I was found. I used to work at a coffee shop at the time, and people where amazed at how good I could create faces or landmarks on the toasts. \n\nNow that I think about it, mine is a pretty lame power to have. I mean come on… the four great heroes of our world have fallen to Glados and her demon horde, and now I am the last line of defense? What a joke. My power isn’t even defensive, it just is. I don’t even know what I am doing here. The president explained to me that since I am the only other person with a magical ability, I am earth’s best chance for wining. As the minister of defense, or general as I call him, explained to me the plan I nodded without understanding anything. \n\nI didn’t want to be here. I shouldn’t be here. Yes at the training sessions I managed to telekinetically move a toaster, but that was when I got electrified for wanting to leave in order to see my girlfriend. \nOh Suzan… I do this for you. They promised to keep my family and yours safe, but most importantly you.\n\nApparently the meeting was over, since both gentlemen rose. They led me to a hanger where a helicopter was waiting for me. I was going to war. I was fully dressed for it as well wearing military clothes, a bulletproof vest, and even a helmet. Since I was always a bit on the thin side I am sure that all this equipment looks ridiculous on me, but they are essential. Or is it? I started panicking on the thought of what good is a bulletproof vest against the flaming sword of a demon. But it was too late to go back now. I could already see the pile of toasters that was placed for me to control during battle. Though my heart was pounding, I was relieved to see no demons waiting for me. As I stepped among the ruble and the destroyed city I felt like a lone survivor in a post apocalyptic game.\n\nSuddenly a few feet away from me a purple portal appeared, and from within it came a beautiful lady with a long black ponytail. She was wearing an elegant uniform which I recognized instantly as the one that the magical five were wearing. \n\n“So… You are humanities last hope… lessness.” She uttered with an eerie grin. \n\nI was scared shitless. Her confidence was something to admire but at this point that scared me even more. \n\n“What is the matter sweetie? Burned your tongue at the toaster?” She laughed at my expense.\n\nAll I had to do and all I could do is stand there, frozen, with my eyes stuck on her face. At that moment I saw a chopper fly past us. That was the signal. I started running towards my toasters, while at the same time I heard the whistling sound of the bombs that were coming toward us. I subconsciously moved the toasters towards me and they began to form a wall around me. Suddenly the whistling stopped, and so did everything else. The wall of toasters was halfway over my waist, so when I turned around I could clearly see Glados.\n\n“So that was there plan toaster boy, to nuke us both out of this world?” She seemed irritated. \n\nI was once again speechless. The general promised he wouldn’t use nuke bombs. He lied!\n\n“I am able to open portals to other dimensions. Did you really think that a few bombs could kill me?” She began laughing hysterically. At the same time a huge green portal opened right behind her. “Embrace Hell.” She shouted as a horde of demons began passing through the portal.\n\nAt that moment a toaster ringed in response to my fear emerging two toast bread. \tI was done for. I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to this. I just hope it doesn’t hurt. Forgive me Suzan.\n\n“PETER!” Yes, that is my name and for one hopeful moment I imagined Suzan calling out to me. I heard it again. I opened my eyes as it dawned to me that I wasn’t imagining. The demon horde was almost upon me, but my gaze searched for Suzan. \n\nI found her atop a floor in a ruined building. There she was in all her beauty. One could think that Suzan isn’t the prettiest girl in the world, but she is for me. As a demon raised his sword to cut me and the toasters that surrounded me, I wondered what she was doing here. The general was right next to her holding her firmly. Her hands were tied. My heart began beating irrationally fast, while the demon lowered his sword. The general took out a gun and shoot Suzan.\n\nA simultaneous ring was heard throughout the area as each and every toaster began firing what appeared to be flaming toasts that turned every demon they touched into charcoal. Glados apparently realized this so she closed the demon portal. As for me, all I could do was shouting. After I wiped out all the demons my toasters targeted the general and Glados. I don’t know what happened to the former cause as my toasters began firing she created a portal that lead the flaming toasts towards me. Immediately I placed my hand inside one of the nearest toasters and by that I teleported myself to another toaster away from the flaming toasts.\n\n“I see you are pretty good toaster boy.” Said Glados as a portal opened right behind me. She had a gun, and was aiming towards the back of my chest. My reaction was faster than her firing, teleporting again to another toaster, and then again to one right in front of her. She began shooting at me but toasters protected me from the bullets so I got close to her. \n\n“Get away from me you toast freak.” She bellowed as a portal opened right beneath my feet. Once again I teleported to another toaster and I watched her as she opened a small portal from which she drew a blazing sword. \n“This is Ashnatas, the sword of hell. And much like your toasters it reduces anything it comes in contact with to ashes.” To prove her point she pierced the ground while passing through a portal to safety. Immediately all earth began blazing and turning to ash. Without even thinking it, I teleported to Suzan’s body and grabbed her. She was still alive.\n\nSuddenly I hear a man shouting behind me. When I turn to my amazement I see the general being turned to ash by Glados. This time his eyes were full of pride and hope.\n\n“You should watch your back toaster boy.” Said Glados as the generals ashes fell to her feet. \n\n“My name is Arter!” I shouted my hero name as a toaster thrust toward her. She tried piercing it with her sword but the blazing blade went in and didn’t come out the other way. Immediately she unhanded it as it appeared to have burned her hand. The toaster with the sword came to me and I drew it, while desperately holding on to Suzan with the other.\n\n“It is over. Leave this place and never come back.” I shouted with a might I never thought I had. As I sheathed Ashnatas back to the toaster I saw her open a portal and vanish in it. It was clear that this war she had lost. Though I knew that she would return at some point I didn’t care. I hug Suzan who had just opened her eyes. Apparently the general barely shoot her to tick me of, leaving her only a small scratch near her waist. A toaster rung as two toasts emerged. \n\n“Would you care for a toast my lady?” I asked as she smiled to me and then we kissed.\n", "Hello, friend. The letter you are holding could save the world, so please read it carefully and in it's entirety.\n\nIt has been a month since our contact with an alien species, yet it seemed like a year to me. Our hopes for cooperation with another race ended abruptly when they crushed Cape Town and invaded our world. The aliens appeared out of nowhere and look like biblical demons. Now, I never was a religious person but these things really do look like demons. And the world is going crazy over the idea that hell itself may be attacking our planet.\n\nWith Africa, the Americas and Europe already obliterated, the seemingly endless horde moved towards Asia (as you probably already know), where there was nobody capable of stopping them. Well, nobody except for me. You see, I was born with magical powers, just like a few million others in this world. And just like most of these \"others\" my power wasn't that impressive. In fact, my ability to control toasters deemed useless by every Magi organization. I was told that nobody would invest in me because breaking a toaster isn't as valuable as generating endless amounts of light or telekinesis. Oh how wrong they were.\n\nI was born and raised in Turkey and just like many other regular people I ran towards deep Asia to save myself from the demons. Unlike most magical users, I did not fight to the death because I was considered useless. So I ran until I reached China. It's a pretty nice country, especially it's toaster factories. It's also going to be their next target.\n\nOkay, now to the things you definitely don't know.\n\nIn this hellish month, I discovered that I could read and burn other people's minds through toasters as long as they would be foolish enough to touch it. And this applies to demons, too. So when a demon assaulted my temporary home in Iran, I zapped him right after he touched the toaster. His brain was burned instantly while my brain was burned with the knowledge of how these things are controlled. Apparently, the whole horde was being controlled by four commanders who were keeping everything in order. Yeah, that's right. Just four. And three of them had already perished, leaving only one sorry imp to do the rest of the work. If I could somehow kill the last big guy, the rest of the horde would retreat.\n\nIn Iran I also learned that demons are attracted by magical users such as myself. And since I'm one of the few Magi left, I am now a high priority target. I don't know why they want us dead so badly. Maybe we are connected to them or maybe they are seeking to eliminate humanity's strongest. It doesn't matter. What does matter is that I can attract the last big guy, kill him and save us all.\n\nYou are probably here to seek shelter in this toaster factory. I'm sorry but this isn't going to happen. Instead, you are going to blow everything up and become a hero. All you have to do is go to the main console and resume production. This will draw enough attention as it will activate and prime all fifty thousand toasters. Don't look for me because you won't find me. I had to pay a price to get to this point.\n\n\n(this is my first prompt, so please be gentle. I'm trying to improve my English)\n", "Magicians have been chronicled over the ages as men and women of immense power, great leaders of their time raising the stature of their nation to towering heights and crushing any who foolishly dare oppose them. But there have only been eight confirmed in history and none since the industrial revolution. The world has been on the lookout, with some trepidation with the rise of religious extremism, for the next true magician. \n \n\nThen came Hanna, a young girl from some little town in Canada with the ability to summon and bind demons to her will. \n \n\nQuickly, Canada unapologetically drove southward and conquered the Americas in a flood of sulfur and brimstone and looked eastward, hungry for world domination, yet were checked in their island hopping campaign across the Caribbean, for now, there are two magicians in the world now, and I, Bruce Tanner am to blame. \n \n\nI may merely have power over toasters, but what is a toaster but a death ray with a smaller power supply? The fiery depths that these demons crawled out of have nothing on the billions of electric heating coils of doom that I will bring to bear against them. Every toaster in every home, on factory lines, on store shelves and even those in landfills will come alive free the Americas from Hanna's horde. \n \n \nAnd after I am hailed as the savior of the free world, guess who will step in her place? Emperor over all the Earth, Ruler over the Land and the Sea and the Sky, master of all he survey's, Bruce Tanner.", "With dusk descending, the distant burning cities and towns lit the sky with reflected vigor. The air stank of cordite and blood. An ill breeze sickly heavy with mildew crept down the slope, but something in the stance of the cloaked figure spoke of confidence. A group of 37 refugees hid in the cave structure behind him, and there was more work than this to do tonight.\n\nIt started with the moans of walkers and skittering insectoid forms that emerged from the shadows, somehow twisted and leaking an ill glow as they advanced. The figure held firm.\n\nNext came the roar and crash of behemoths followed by shuddering pressure waves in the air and a rumble felt in the earth. The figure lifted it's silver cowled head and eyes, the blue of a stormy sky reflected the light of devastation as a raspy voice called in a steady tone \"Energize\".\n\nLightning crackled and faintly, a distant hum awoke. It took but minutes to notice the change in tenor of the distant mob of demons. Beginning in bloodlust and anger, they shifted noticibly towards confusion, then finally to fear. It was a delicious sound rarely heard from the hordes of hell. One to be cherished. \n\nThe nearest creatures came within leaping distance and on queue, the ground before the figure erupted to disgorge a golem the likes of which has never been seen. Fists made of appliances from the 50's, weighing a good 30 pounds each, and filled with fire caught creatures from hell and slammed them to void against the earth. Legs made from discarded things from a 60's diner could tread earth for ever and not tire. Eyes of blue LED, from the mod section of a catalog, the toaster golem was made for war.\n\nAnd it wasn't alone.\n\nA thousand junk yards and dumps provided well enough material for an army of the beasts to rival the hell swarm numerically. Tactically, the toaster golems were more than a match for the pulpy and diseased masses. They had been arranged in a wide circle around the killing field, and the demons had been drawn here by the lingering life force of the survivors behind The silver robed figure.\n\nIt took some hours before every demon had been dispatched, and as the figure was about to mount his metallic gryphon (made of toasters), to contain the next area in need, the survivors carefully emerged from the cave mouth.\n\n\"Roger?, is that you? I thought you did toasters?\". Surprised, he took in the refugee, and then laughed as he recognized his old manager at the appliance repair shop. \"Oh I do, mr. Mortensen. I do. That and demon destroying I suppose. Good luck now.\" And with a smile and wave, Roger the toastermancer disappeared into the ruddy clouds.\n\n", "\"You're the chosen one,\" they said.\n\n\"You will save the world,\" they said.\n\nAs I stand here, watching a thousand demons rise from the sea, with nothing but a sword in hand and my trusty enchanted toaster Sparky by my side, barking furiously at the horde, I can't help but wonder why the fuck I agreed to this in the first place. \n\nPardon my language and all, but I am facing a legion of Hell with what is by comparison a metal toothpick and a toaster that thinks it's a dog. I think I have the right to let out some frustration.\n\nI mean...yeah, I was born with the spark of the arcane, which only appears once a century, and is supposed to signify the champion who will stand against the incursion of the demonic horde, but...why would I be given a power that's so useless? No offense meant to Sparky, but the last champion could literally rain fire from the sky, and all I can do is animate a friggin' toaster.\n\nDon't get me wrong, Sparky's been great. He's trained with me all these years to prepare for the fight, and has definitely gotten considerably more powerful, but he's still just a toaster. A yappy, playful toaster. And now, we stand here, staring at a passage from Revelations come to life, complete with monstrosities gnashing their teeth and brandishing razor-sharp claws as they rise...\n\nAnd the light bulb goes off.\n\nAs they rise from the sea.\n\nI look down at Sparky, my playful friend and companion, as he barks angrily, though try as he might to hide it, his slight quivering reveals his fear. Like me, he's putting on a brave face.\n\nI couldn't.\n\nI look back to the horde, growing ever closer. Some of the demons stand forty, even fifty feet high, but even the smaller ones are fearsome. The waters churn as the abominations close on the shore. I look down at Sparky yet again, remembering the time we'd spent together. My laughter as he barked angrily at squirrels, lizards, and any other tiny beast. His attempts to protect me against laser pointers and other foul devices.\n\nI shouldn't.\n\nI look up again. The horde grows ever nearer, their gaping maws and vicious claws a preview of the terror they'll visit upon humanity if I don't stop them. And I look back, once more, to Sparky.\n\nI must.\n\nI let out a sigh as I kick Sparky into the sea. As he hits the water, he shorts, and magical lightning explodes out from him, enveloping the sea and the demons along with it. Not a one survives.\n\nIt'll take days...weeks, even...to remove the charred remains of the demonic horde from the sea. But that's not my concern. My job is done. My watch over humanity has ended.\n\nRest in peace, my old friend.", "The power to control toasters - sounds stupid, right? Yes. Yes it is. It is a terribly stupid power. I can make them work without power, and I can make them move with telekinesis, but that's about it. It isn't even that strong of telekinesis.\n\nHere's the thing, while your standard toaster may not be much, my custom toasters work just fine. See, as long as a machine has the ability to toast bread, I can control and empower it. The key here is that \"machine,\" \"toast,\" and \"bread\" are all up to interpretation.\n\nFor instance, a giant robot with a toaster bolted onto it and tied into its minimal circuitry is just a very fancy toaster. Similarly, I can make toast with flamethrowers, so I can control them just as easily. Plus, if I define \"toasting\" as \"shooting incendiary/explosive ammunition,\" and declare that I will name all demons \"Bread,\" just about every firearm and missile falls under my control.\n\nAnd, for shits and giggles, my power also makes it so that anyone with any sort of drink at all can make a toast to the invading, newly named Loaf of Bread, I can power them as well. All those toasters are strengthened by my magic, and can fight without food, water, or sleep for as long as the want.\n\nSo is control of toasters a stupid power? Only if you use stupid toasters.", "\tThe demon horde hates toast. To be fair, toast hates itself. But maybe that's the secret.\n\t\n\tI was born with electro-magical powers over toasters. I am the only super hero known to mankind. I'm also the lamest. But at this point, I'm the earth's only hope. And I hope toasters are enough.\n\t\n\tThe horde is a sub-biological species based in Euclidean geometry off the idea of the question \"why?\" The horde is sustained on a perpetual asking of the question \"why?\" Why? There's much debate about this. I'm not a master debater. But from what I've heard, the horde emerged as an intelligence after a million proliferations of why. They are the essence exploration itself. And if we don't put a stop to this, we'll all fall peril to the horde's madness.\n\t\n\tThat's when negative feedback loop theorists strategized of a way to throw the horde into an endless spiral down the wrong line of questioning. With my toasting power fame, I was summoned to the front lines. All I did was make toast. But for me, the toast practically makes itself. The horde didn't know why. They wanted to know why. They needed to know why.\n\t\n\tBut no one knows that.\n\t\n\tThat's the power of magic. At its core there exists no why, no reason. It simply is. And this is unacceptable to the horde. Rockets they understand. Weapons they understand. Logic they understand. But magic grinds them against the wall of the unanswerable. Toast for days. Toast for death.\n\t\n\tAfter the great battle of the horde, I was asked to offer up a toast. In a last moment of sick pleasure I gave the best toast known to man. They called me the Toastmaster. Apparently I had power over all toast. Whenever anyone opened his mouth to make a toast, I silenced him. That was when the true darkness of my powers began. No toast went unnoticed. And every toast was mine. But no one knew it. My popularity rose, and no one was the wiser.\n\t\nI can't stand freshly baked bread. That's something I simply can't toast to.", "Moon demons are no joke, but platinum toaster was still going strong.\n\n\"R&D are just about finishing up, here, we'll be sending the prototypes your way.\" That was the general. General who-the-fuck-cares what his name is 4th promoted in the past 4 hours.\n\n\"Right,\" I told him.\n\nGirl, get your shit together, look at the size of that demon coming down the street.\n\nIt was at least 9 meters. Not the biggest I'd taken care of, but, when they get around the 15m range, they get pretty tough. Ol' Platinum can't take too many more of those guys. Still... I brought it close to me so I could take a close look. I could feel it, sure, but sometimes a good looking over is important too.\n\nI looked ridiculous, I knew, but I didn't feel ridiculous. My shoes were toasters. I had a toaster backpack, with the slits splayed out and away at diagonals. \n\nThe 9m was close enough. All the demons were jumping down from the moon along a 2 mile wide band across the Earth, except the oceans. Where was I now? Doesn't matter. We'll rebuild and rename it. It was hot though.\n\nI had a good view from the top of the building, a picturesqly dilapidated skyscraper. This would be efficient. The demon saw me, it was all bloodlust. Whatever. I fell and picked up momentum with the platinum toaster, setting it to crisp. Platinum had been working well so far. I adjusted my trajectory. It was easy to do with the backpack toaster. By the time I was all dive, the demon thought it could take me and had jumped up to meet me midair. Solid mistake.\n\nI brought up platinum from behind me. The demon's enormous face was gloating, as was the perpetual expression of all demons, which made it all the more satisfying.\n\nMy platinum toaster hit the demon in the face in a collision that I imagine would be comparable to hitting a baby with a baseball bat. Like, a steel baseball bat. Or a platinum one. A superheated platinum baseball bat. Click, done, ding! God, that was a satisfying sound. Two superhot molten lead toasts ripped the beasts body into confetti. I spun a 180 to block off the debris of horn and whatever it is demon flesh and bone is made of (they told me but I forgot).\n\nAaaaand landed. Soft as a pillow in my toaster shaped platform shoes.\n\n\"Hey, it's dead,\" I said to whomever was listening.\n\n\"Really?!\" Too excited, this new general. \"Okay, great, we're almost there. Listen, though, that big one we've been telling you about. we've been keeping an eye on it, and we think it's been keeping an eye on you. It just now made it's move. We bet it's coming right at you.\"\n\n\"Oh? How big?\"\n\n\"Best guess is it's at least 12 stories high, this thing, it's enormous. It... Hold on...\"\n\nI started floating back up to my skyscraper. I like this town. I bet it had some real character before the entire city was obliterated by some demon crater shockwave. I loaded a couple more lead toasts into the platinum toaster. It had a dent, so the toast didn't quite fit right and the spring action wasn't all that smooth.\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"What? No, yeah, right, I'm just looking at this video. Jesus. Look, we're almost there.\" I could see the helicopter. \"We have a few of minutes, I gotta show you.\"\n\n\"'kay.\" I waited. I could see the quarter moon. There was a black dot on the moon. Is that the demon? Holy shit, that's either real close or real big.\n\nThe helicopter dropped off an eager looking guy in a military jacket that didn't fit him, a couple of soldiers carrying a big ol' crate, and a couple of technicians.\n\n\"You the general?\" I asked \"On the phone?\" \n\nHe looked confused for a second. \"Wh- no, I'm not a general, I'm just R&D. We-\"\n\n\"Wait, who was I speaking to?\"\n\n\"Oh, you were speaking to me alright.\" He held my gaze, implying, I imagine that a lot of people were dead?\n\n\"Okay, so what? What've you got?\"\n\nThe soldiers opened the crate and then hopped back on the helicopter while Mr. R&D stood beside it. 'IT' I have to admit, was glorious. Never in my mind would I have imagined an object which could so dubiously straddle the realities of form and function. Was it a toaster? Most assuredly, I could feel it. I floated it out of the box. But it was so much MORE! I was getting excited. Then confused.\n\n\"Where do you put the toast?\" I asked.\n\n\"Oh,\" he chuckled, \"It's automatic.\"\n\nI beamed.\n\n\"These alloys can take a hell of a beating. All the way down to the power chord. We really liked how you sliced up that demon back in Chile with the power cord but then it wasn't really strong enough to withstand the tension at the speeds you move that thing. This baby should hold together no problem.\"\n\n\"Ya, know.\" I extended my hand. He shook it. \"I misjudged you.\" He looked confused, again, but smiled. Good enough. \n\n\"Right, its ETA is a couple of minutes. We're gonna clear out. Watch for the shockwave and impact debris. Take care. And... You know, thanks. From all of us.\" He held my gaze a second longer. In solidarity?\n\nHumanity blah blah blah, I really wanna try out my new toaster." ]	8
	[WP] You're driving a car, and have just been stopped by police. There's a body in the back seat.	[ "\"Hallo officer, what's the problem?\" \n\n\"You don't know why I stopped you Sir? Or could you imagine why?\"\n\n\"Uh, I may was speeding.\"\n\n\"May is a bit understated, you where driving 30 miles too fast.\"\n\n\"Officer I'm sorry but my brother-in-law and his wife are becoming a baby right in the moment.\"\n\n\"I see Sir\" There's no civilization ahead for 200 miles, just Forrest \"Please put both your hands on the wheel and exit the car slowly without fast movements.\"\n\n\"Um, sure, will do.\" I can't let him discover her! Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK, I have to get rid of him as well\n\n\"Sir please open the trunk\" Hmm, nothin' in there \"Could you tell me what's under that blanket on the back seat?\" \n\n\"It's, it's just some baby stuff, you know toys, clothing... \"\n\n\"Yes, still, please unlock the car and pick the blanket up\"\n\nI slowly walk towards the back door, the key slides into the hole, the police officer is watching me closely, I pick up the blanket, one baseball bat swing lands in his stomach, he screams, he is grabbing his gun, I strike him on the back of his head, he collapses, he still got a pulse, damn, I secure his hands with zip ties. He's in my trunk now, his gun is mine. I approach the police car, I take the shotgun and the nailbed.\n\nIt has been a 2 hour drive now, the officer screams, he screams, HE SCREAMS SO FUCKING LOUD, I stop, I go around the car, I pop the trunk and strike him with the bat one more time, he's silent, still a pulse... \n\nThere it is, I pull into the driveway, after 5 minutes I see the small cabin. Good old memories, I have to forget them, IT'S HER FAULT, if she didn't fuck that bank clerk, everything would be fine, but now I got two corpses and an unconscious policeman in my car.\n\nIt's done. Firewood is spread everywhere. The rest of the cabin and the car are soaked in gasoline. The last thing I have to do now is to take care of that cop and take that ransom I have got from both, my, her, and that bank clerks families.\n\n\"Wake up little sunshine\"\n\n\"Hmm, what have you done? Is that gasoline smell?\"\n\n\"Just tell me, do you want me to shoot you before I light everything or not?\"\n\n\"You don't have to do this.\"\n\n\"ANSWER THE QUESTION!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes shoot me for God's sake!\"\n\n\"Thanks for answering\" I slowly cock the pistol\n\n\"OH GOD, please help me!\"\n\n\"Your God isn't going to help you now sweetheart, you know, the Forrest is very dry, it hasn't rained for months, we're sitting in a powder keg. When I light everything, it'll take weeks, when not months, untill they find you. And when they do I'm already miles away in Australia... \"\n\nA loud shot cuts through the forrest. I drop a match, it would be a waste dropping my zippo why does everybody do this, everything burst in flames, I mount my motocross and drive towards the airport...\n\n\nIt was a pain in the arse to write this on mobile so bear with me. Btw that's my first story. \n\nEdit: Words", "It's 3 am, I am driving the speed limit, my eyes barely open. The windows are all down .. not just to keep me awake but also to keep away the smell. That's right, there's a dead body in my back seat, and its been there awhile. \n\n\n\nThe long desert road is all but abandoned this night, my old rusted 1956 Plymouth Savoy roaring down the dusty highway. Then again, Route 66 is known for being quiet, that is probably why I am here. \n \n\n\nJust as I am about to fall asleep at the wheel.. a loud noise wakes me up.. and upon opening my eyes am blinded by the flashing police car lights in my rear view mirror. I slowly pull over and off the road, my eyes momentarily glancing back at the huddled form underneath the dusty old Mexican horse blanket in my back seat. \n \n\n\nThe officer begins filling out paperwork and calling my vehicle in. I reach into my pocket feeling a rusted Colt Detective snub nose .38 revolver that hasn't been fired in years. Even though its dark I am still wearing my glasses, they do a good job of keeping the dust out of my eyes, unlike the rest of me... chalk white from dust on the road. \n \n\n\nThe officer opens his car door and strolls over to mine. \n\n\n\n\"License and registration please\" he says with a light southern drawl.\n\n \n\nI take my dusty wallet out and hand it to him. Right as I am doing this the officer shines his light in my face. \n\n\n\n\"Ditch the glasses please.\" I remove them with dirty fingers and squinting look towards his face obscured by his light. \n \n\n\nIt takes nearly five minutes of fumbling with my wallet and license and other papers before the officer curses and drops them as they all license, permits and cards fall apart.. even my wallet crumbles into pieces in his hands. \n\n\n\n\"Whats the meaning of this?\" The officer demands...\"Show me your real wallet, or get out of the car!\" \n\n\n\nI look over at the officer and open my mouth to speak, before I can say anything he loudly declares. \n\n\n\n\"Alright! That's it! Get outta the car, NOW!\" he jerks open the old rusted door so hard that the handle falls off.the door opens anyways. \"Now get out\" he yells. \n\n\n\nAs he grabs me out of the car and spins me around cuffing my hands from behind.\n\n \n\n\"What the hell is this thing?\" he asks taking out the rusted lump of my revolver before throwing it to the ground. \n\n\n\n\"Sit over here!\" he drawls now more in command of the situation as I am led over to the hood of his squad car to sit as he turns back and begins to head toward my car. When he reaches it he encounters the same problem he had with my door.. the rust is pretty bad on all the doors and trim as well as the door handles, he breaks the rear left one as he wrenches the back seat door open. \n\n\n\nI can see from where I am sitting he is having a hard time with it.. coughing and waving the dust away in a fruitless attempt to breath and clear the air inside the car. \n\n\n\nFinally after what seems like hours of coughing and spitting, he takes out the Mexican horse blanket and throws it on the side of the dusty road. It lands with a resounding thump as a large dust cloud permeates through the night air all around it. \n\n\n\n \"What the hell is this?\" The policeman, who I now recognize as a State Trooper begins to wave the remnants of the dust away from out of the back of the car. \n\n\n\n\"Bones, they , is what- did you- You a grave robber, boy? This your dead grandma back here? What the hell? You sick mother-\" \n \n\n\nAs soon as he threw the dusty blanket out of the backseat I knew I didn't need to sit still any longer. Looking down at my hands I realized that there really wasn't ever any handcuffs on them at all, or was there? I didn't know, all I knew was how compelled I felt to get back out on that dusty highway. So I wasn't surprised when I found myself back behind the wheel of my Old Savoy. \n\n\n\nI went to go turn the key in the ignition but was stopped briefly, and only for a moment, the key was no longer there, and the ignition seemed rusted away, in fact the whole steering column was loose and broken, just then I heard the State Trooper yell out loud as he climbed out of the backseat. \n\n\n\n\"Hey!! Kid!! Where the hell did you go? We ain't playin no games!\" \n\n\n\nHe picked up my hand cuffs staring at them incredulously and running his hand over the hood of his squad car where I had been sitting when out of nowhere a large dust cloud came in through the drivers side window and passed out through the passengers side. \n\n\n\nWhen it had cleared, the ignition and steering column were all back in place, the keys were once again back in my hand and I felt the rusty small Colt back in my leather jacket again...Glancing back I saw the Mexican blanket was draped right back over the body of that girl. That girl, that girl she- Ah, I couldn't remember right now, it might have been important but I could never seem to think straight unless I was night drivin' down the dusty road through route 66. \n\n\n\nSo without another thought I shut my rusty door, its handle no longer broken and turned the key and the old engine roared to life again. Smoke and dust began swirling up all around the Plymouth like being caught up in a dirt devil whirlwind. \n\n\n\nAs I slowly began to pull away I glanced back through the mirror at the Trooper who had pulled us over, he was still standing there holding the handcuffs in one hand and his walkie in the other. A look of dumbfounded disbelief on his face as I drove back onto the highway and off towards the sunrise outpacing the dust behind us leaving it and the squad car in the night as the red glow from my tail lights faded away.\n" ]	2
	[WP] Write Deadpool as a Shakespearean character	[ "Francisco:\n\nRepugnant beast! Oh how thy extance doth incur in me such wretched temper. If only you were but more of a man, so that I might make you less of one!\n\nFrancisco advances, sword upraised. Deadpoole stands his ground\n\nDeadpoole:\n\nWhat merry banter you ply me with, dearest Francisco! Why, if one were not to know, and possess no power of observation, he might, by happy accident, find you keen of wit! Were that your mother left her maidenhead maintained, and left your seed for fouler entrances!\n\nFrancisco and Deadpoole clash, both sustaining grievous injuries.\n\nFrancisco:\n\nThy sword appears to be no match for thy tongue, Deadpoole.\n\nDeadpoole:\n\nWere it such a match it too would have befouled thy mother, Francisco.\n\nFrancisco:\n\nMayhaps thou believe'st that upon my expiry thee shall attain a former glory? A visage less gruesome mayhaps? Through careful introspection I find no part of my person not immersed in the humor of it. For thee, thy facade will remain immutable, abhorrent to even the lowest of mongrel, with whom you will undoubtedly feel most welcome.\n\nFrancisco's wounds, while unfelt, take their toll. Francisco is failing.\n\nWould that I could spit upon thee from such a distance, Deadpoole, but thou doth not deserve even such a parting gift.\n\nDeadpoole:\n\nDoth slumber seize thee, my talkative friend? Doth death's cold breath chill thy nape? For I can see it approaching over thy shoulder.\n\nDeadpoole approaches the failing Francisco, sword upraised\n\nI fear thou must his parting gift keep, dearest Francisco, for I shall use it to lubricate my passage. For while no woman might have me thus, Francisco, thy head shall surely hold no qualms once divorced from body!\n\nDeadpoole jerks awake.\n\n(Aside, Deadpoole)\n\nDeadpool:\n\nJesus! Another dream that ends just before the best part. Great... now I have to try to go back to bed all riled up.\n\nend scene " ]	1
	[WP] Tell me a story that will make me afraid of the light.	[ "Listen closely; this information is the difference between life and death. You may have heard of people having near-death experiences, and you probably noticed a pattern. They all say a light, but before they could approach it they were bought back to earth. They were the lucky ones. Because the light isn’t what it seems. No matter what happens remember that. You might see it in a dark void, in a dream, in the middle of the street, but whatever you do, don’t walk into the light. No matter what you see on the other side. I know you’re confused, maybe you’re scared or skeptic, but please, be careful. Stay in the dark, make sure you can see it avoid streetlamps and stay in the dark. You have 24 hours. I’m sorry.", "He had grown up thinking that light was a good thing. He'd heard it time and time again: in the weekly and sometimes biweekly Sunday school sessions with Ms. Strateje which his mother mandated from an early age, even before she was a single parent, and continued into his 20s; in the silly but formative dollar store pulp ghost stories Mrs. (and later Ms.) Insham regaled him with on school nights, before he dropped out to live at home; and, perhaps most importantly, in the form of film, beginning as a sort of compulsive double-feature prophylactic to his social isolation in high school, a raison d'être consisting solely of the chiaroscuro battle between light and darkness evident (clearly to him) in each film, mirroring his own depressing life, an extension of his soul, so to speak; the more adept directors utilizing both light and dark to their extreme, but then morphing into something brighter entirely. The ultimate synopsis of all films, in Peter Jr.'s eyes, was confusingly both bright and empty, like, as he would describe at a later date, the \"electronic bosom of a thousand inert halogen lamps.\"\n\nAnd so young Pete Jr., young mainly in an emotional and sexually experienced sense, as he was well into his 20s, devoted himself to preserving the light. He now earned a living as a photographer's assistant, mainly adjusting spotlights and meters and turning mirrors or faux-metallic light refractors a fraction of an inch to create the perfect amount of light on a particular image subject. He had a real gift. \n\nOne day he felt that there was not enough light to create the signature luminescence his photography-assistance had grown (being quite popular now in his collegiate newspaper as well as in advertising for some nearby businesses) to all but require. He set up the familiar lighting appliances, the expensive high-wattage light bulbs, the reflective mirrors, refractors, dampening mats, etc., and instructed the subject to lay down like normal, removing her clothes. The photographs were objectively spectacular, a triumph of time and form, of order over an inherently chaotic and entropic universe. Pete (now no longer Jr., as his father had passed) did not see this, however. He only saw more of the same. Like any visionary, he was not concerned with what already was; his father's irresolute battle with eternity had instilled in the not-so-young Pete a taste only for the novel. And so, despite already not-unconsiderable acknowledgement as a cinematographic marketing lighting specialist, Pete's psyche coalesced once and for all into an intractable will to create something new.\n\nThe extra lighting began very subtly: an especially bright Crush soda can in a generic surfer commercial; an episode of Close Allies that took place entirely in the daytime, even when the characters were supposedly asleep. But the advertising revenues spoke for themselves. For whatever reason (that was for the psychologists, psychiatrists, and psychoanalysts employed by the major networks to later determine), the sales of products inserted both super- and subliminally spiked exponentially when the lighting was increased. The soon-to-be called \"Insham effect\" was already spreading to all corners of advertisement. Trojan commercials now took place in a sunny field or fully lit Fenway, and sales skyrocketed. Nights in syndicated cable sitcoms were systematically replaced digitally with \"early mornings.\" The whole concept of darkness in media was quickly eliminated, quickly being deemed by popular culture-savvy politicians as an, as one put it, \"unsavory influence on the children.\" It did not take long for this anti-darkness campaign to see fruits in the real world. On and off switches no longer had the \"off\" option, greatly benefiting electricity producers and distributors. Stars and the moon were declared bankrupt after their shares plummeted from being relegated to an obsolete platform. The sun was scheduled, after a lengthy legal battle between the Big 6 media conglomerates and the government, to change course and rise again every 12 hours instead of 24, giving rise to the well-known structure of permanent luminescence we now enjoy 12/14/731.\n\n", "If they put a light on me, I will surely die. They kill us for wanting to feed our family, for wanting to eat. They hunt us down with lights and take us up to go to a place where they are never seen from again. \n\nMy brother was taken two days ago, my sister three weeks ago, my mother and father around three months ago. They were all taken by the light. If I look at the light I will be taken away. I will be taken. I jut wanted to have some cheese.", "Remember when the sun, the bright sun was a gift. Damn chemicals.. Our attempts to stop and protect, and the extended life cycle. What we did know.\n\nWe live in the dark, only hear stories of the day walkers. Some say vampires, we say survivors.\n\nStories told and videos made of people walking in the sun shine. and almost laughable.\n\nJust the darkness, seeing the bright eyes, the light hair, like a dream.\n\nThe military stations at the tunnel, you can see a small glimmer of light, but it burns, it was called Porphyric Hemophilia, now just \"\"us\"\", the ones who can stand the light are the sick ones.\n\nBleeding eyes, smells, and headaches, and often death.\n\nBlinds us, pains us.\n\nSally, was the first to make it out, to the open air, she died almost instantly. Well, I am going to try, but I know the day walkers feed to keep us in the catacombs. Time to take back. We found a weapon, that was once used to block out the sun> Can we use it?\n\nThey hunt us and feed us, use our bodies as experiments, no longer. They have to sleep sometimes.\n", "Light makes them active. \n\nCall them zombies. Call them ghouls. Call them revenants. The name doesn't matter. They will all do the same thing if they catch you. Tear you apart and eat you. And if they don't finish you? If you somehow get away after they have bitten you? You will get a high fever. Your brain will boil. You will drop dead. And when the sun rises, so will you as one of them. \n\nYou will only move when there is a light. Doesn't matter if it is from the glare of the sun or the glow of a T.V.. A simple flame from a lit match will make you rush like a moth. \n\nI've seen this happen, myself. \n\nThere was a camp of us, survivors. Six in total. Huddled in this warehouse. Living like blind moles. Feeling our way through the world in complete darkness. This one woman, she couldn't take it anymore. She would cry so much. Day after day. And none of us could even see the pain in her face to give her sympathy. One night, while we were pressed against the darkest corners, we heard her shuffled footsteps echoing away from us. Then nothing. She had stopped. The next thing we heard was the scratch of a match against the side of a matchbox. The spark came and then the tiny flame. We shielded our eyes out of pain for a moment only to look back and see them. The monsters. Eight of them had been with us all along. The pitch black had kept them at bay. But with the flame, they came alive. One howled. Not like a dog's howl. More like a wail of a banshee. The others started to snarled. The rest of us survivors were still safe in the shadows but we could see them. The details of their unnerving faces. The foam dripping from their mouths. The yellow of their turned eyes. The sallow gray of their skin. Like rabid animals. \n\nThe woman with the match waved her arm. \"Come on! Kill me!\"\n\nThey came. Running and hitting her like starving hyenas, knocking her down. She didn't scream but dropped her match. It rolled away from her but was still lit. We watched as the bodies piled on top of her. Her throat was the first thing they ripped out with their teeth. I don't know if she would have screamed anyway if she could. She wanted this. Two them grabbed an arm and pulled. The limbs came out of their sockets. Her clothing was torn to make a clear path to her torso. Mouths dove at her belly and came up with chunks of meat in them. Sloppy sounds of eating bounced off the metal walls of the warehouse. \n\nThen the match went out plunging everything in black.\n\nInstantaneous silence came next. Like we were watching a movie and someone had pulled the plug. \n\nThe woman was still there. They were still there. But with no light, they had simply switched off. \n\nSomeone grabbed me. \"We have to go. Now. This place isn't safe anymore.\"\n\n\"Agreed.\" I felt the space around me and grabbed someone's shirt. I knew everyone was doing the same with each other. We had made a human chain. \n\nWe moved hugging along the wall until someone found the door. We opened it. All of us were grateful to have a thick cloudy night sky that greeted us in darkness equal to the one we were leaving. \n\nThat was three days ago. Now we are huddled up in a church attic. We have covered up the single stained glass window with duct tape and boxes. We sleep during the day and at night, like rats, we roam the city looking for food. I have no idea how long we can keep this up. How long before another person snaps. This time starting a fire that brings the things that lurk in the light to damn us all. \n\n", "As children, we are brought up under the pretense that the greatest monsters exist only in the shadows. The malformed nightmares brewed up inside a child's psyche seem near tangible in the dark: the vampires, zombies and bogymen come shambling to life as we flicked the lights off for the night and sprinted upstairs to the safety of our bed sheets, resting assured in the knowledge bestowed upon us by our parents, that no monster would dare harm us within the warm and fluffy sanctity of sleep. But what our loved ones neglected to point out, is that there is one force that dares disturb our slumber. The light. You see, you won't find these monsters prowling the night for the flesh of innocent little boys and girls. The blood sucking parasites that will drain you of your very being, the glossy eyed living dead that shuffle from place to place out of instinct, the bogymen that will snatch you at the drop of a hat. They all walk the streets in broad daylight, because, just like you, they find comfort in it. Don't fear the dark children, fear the light. Because in the light, people don't need to hide what they really are. Monsters." ]	6
	[WP] You stumble into a mysterious bar that sells emotions on tap instead of beer.	[ "A thick haze of smoke clung to the low ceiling, muting the spherical green lamps. Their soft glow gave the windowless pub an air of mystery, punctuated by the low murmuring of the clients sparsely scattered on its floor. The tables they sat at were small and round, with simple stools at their side. A large square bar dominated the center of the room. Dozens of glowing vials of all sorts of sizes and shaped formed an impressive battalion behind the bar. \"Welcome to the Whirlpool,\" my companion sighed, starting off towards the bar. His voice was as usual, disappointed. For once, I didn't reply, contending myself with following him.\n\nWe reached the bar just in time to see the girl behind it finish giving a brown drink to a hesitant middle-aged woman before starting towards us. \"Master Terrence!\" she called out, flashing her white teeth with a smile, \"Your third visit this year, and it's only February! Will you be having the usual?\"\n\n\"I'm not drinking today,\" he gruffly replied, \"have to speak with an old friends.\"\n\n\"The usual, then! What about your young friend here, will he be having anything?\"\n\nTerrence snorted as he looked back at me. \"My young friend will be sitting quiet as a mouse and won't have anything. That right, boy?\"\n\n\"I... I thought you were letting me go with you this time?\"\n\n\"Changed my mind. Sorry kid. Just sit here and don't drink anything. Got it?\"\n\nThe snarl that leapt out of my throat managed to turn itself into a polite \"Got it\" as I sat down onto a stool with far more force than necessary. He sniffed, but started off towards a small door in the back without another word. \"What a dick,\" the bartender sighed.\n\nI looked at her with surprise. \"That's kinda unprofessional, isn't it?\"\n\n\"Well, he is. Comes in here all the time and doesn't order a damn thing. Just bribes a mob boss or two in their private rooms so he can track down whatever client he's hunting. They're living like kings here at our expense but ol' Terrence doesn't care as long as he gets his money. How did a kid like you get stuck with him?\"\n\n\"Kid? You can't be more than a year older than me.\"\n\nShe raised her eyebrows, then laughed good-heartedly. \"True enough. But you seem smart. You can do better than this. So tell me, what are you after?\"\n\n\"I hired him. I would tell you about it, but...\"\n\n\"Let me guess. It's too dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt. You're not ready.\" \n\n\"Well, no, not like that-\"\n\n\"Not like that because you've heard it a dozen times and it makes you want to rip someone's head off. Look - what's your name?\"\n\n\"...James.\" \n\n\"Pleased to meet you. I'm Quinn. Look, I can take care of myself. Bartending can be dangerous. Yet people still treat me like I'm twelve. No one respects my opinion or values my contribution here. If I could leave, I gladly would.\"\n\nHer eyes were hard as steel and her voice was calm, but her right hand nervously wrung a small cloth. \"I... Terrence treats me the same way. 'Dumb kid' this, 'spoiled brat' that. Just because I didn't grow up on the streets doesn't mean I don't know anything.\" She nodded thoughtfully, leaning forward slightly. I wavered for a moment.\n\n\"OK, Quinn, this actually is dangerous. Not just for you, but for me... and Terrence.\"\n\n\"Don't worry,\" she instantly said, \"I won't tell anyone. Not a soul. You can trust me.\"\n\n\"Well... My little brother and I lived together, in a small but fairly wealthy home: our parents left us a lot of money when they died. I spent my time working at a library and studying to be a railroad mechanic and he went to school. It was a good life: I was thinking of living on the road once we both completed our training, seeing all the Wonders of the world. But about three weeks ago, the elven slaver Ravid kidnapped a whole class of kids, my brother included. I couldn't just sit there and do nothing, and the authorities were taking forever, so I took most of our inheritance and hired Terrence. And I made him take me with him, and we've been tracking Ravid ever since.\"\n\nShe leaned back, clearing her throat. For a moment, a tear glistened in her eye. \"Damn, James, that's rough. Terrence is a damn good bounty hunter. You'll find your brother.\"\n\n\"I... thank you. I hadn't... I hadn't really told anyone else about it,\" I replied, slightly teary myself. Quinn looked at me for a moment, as if making a decision. \"Tell you what. I like you, James. You deserve better than running around from bar to pub to wherever the hell else, choking on Terrence's dust the whole time. Let me get you a discounted drink. It won't be the liquid gold the mob bosses have, but it'll be pretty good.\"\n\nI looked at her for a moment. Hadn't Terrence said not to drink anything? But then again, Quinn said he never bought anything here. And he probably thought I couldn't handle alcohol. \"You know what, why not. He's paying with my money anyway, right? My money, my decision.\"\n\nShe laughed and began rummaging under the counter, ignoring the gleaming bottles behind her. \"Let's see... this one? No, not good enough... maybe... ah, this one!\" With a dramatic flourish she pulled out a pink bottle and grinned as she presented it to me. \"Trust me - this stuff is so good! Here, try it. I gotta go check on some of the other clients, I'll be right back.\"\n\nShe walked away to the other end of the bar, I examined the bottle, shrugged, uncorked it, and took a careful sip. I gasped as I eagerly began drinking more: it was an exhilarating mix of sweetness and heat that sent massive rushes of adrenaline through my entire body. When I finally set the bottle down, it was over half empty.\n\nFor a moment, my vision glazed over, but slowly the world swam back into focus: my eyes had chosen to rest on Quinn's butt. Blushing, I looked away, but my gaze snapped back. I hadn't really noticed what she was wearing. Her light blue pants clung to her fit legs. She was leaning over the counter, talking to someone else. Someone unimportant. My heart began to beat faster. My mouth opened slowly. Quinn turned around suddenly. The client had left. My gaze traveled up her body. She was wearing a tight, clean white shirt with short sleeves. Her breasts... They were the perfect size... I stared at her, marveling that I hadn't noticed how beautiful she was. \n\nI felt a soft finger on my chin and my head was dragged up. \"James! Did you like it?\" Her voice - an angel's! And... her face! Her beautiful green eyes, her pearly white teeth, her dimples, her short black hair! \"James?\"\n\nFor a moment, the right words couldn't come to my mouth. \"I love you! I love you so much!\" She laughed again, raising her eyebrows. \"You are so perfect! Please I - I... I want to... let me buy you a drink!\" Lovers did that. I knew that.\n\nQuinn giggled, then tilted her head and said, \"You can buy a drink, but you have to drink it.\"\n\n\"Yes absolutely! Ummmm let me think which one should I get there are so many I love you I love you I love-\"\n\n\"How about this one?\" she said, her delicate hands holding an orange bottle. \"Perfect!\" I yelled, grabbing it and instantly chugging it. It was sharp and spicy, an odd mixture of solid and liquid, bunching up at first then rushing down my throat, causing me to choke and splutter it all over Quinn's shirt. She gasped, stepping back, hands flinching upwards in shock.\n\nI felt my cheeks glowing crimson red as I exclaimed, \"Oh no! I am so sorry oh my god please Quinn I ruined everything!\" She looked at me, frozen in anger. Finally she lowered one hand, resting the other on her hip as she scowled at me. For a moment, we stared at each other, then I rushed forward with a wail.\n\n\"Oh my god Quinn I am so sorry I am such a pig I was slobbering on you oh my god I am so disgusting you were so nice to me and I treated you like a whore oh my god I am so sorry!\" I leaned on the counter, shaking, gasping for breath, tears trickling down my face that burned with the heat of unimaginable shame. How could I be so awful?!\n\n\"Please, Quinn, let me make it up for you! Let me buy you a drink and you can keep all the money!\" I desperately searched the price tags, looking for the biggest one, hoping against hope it would make her happy... \"That one!\" I exclaimed, pointing to a large blue bottle. She sighed and reluctantly gave it to me. I gulped it down... and slumped down in my seat.\n\nI was such an idiot. I had made a good friend, then ruined it. And now her arms were crossed. I failed again. I was useless. How could I possibly think I could save my brother? I didn't know how to do anything. Ravid would kill me without blinking. I should just stay here and drink. Drink until the end of my days, drink until I-\n\n\"Terrence!\" Quinn suddenly exclaimed. I resignedly looked up. Sure enough, there he was. \"You're done early today!\"\n\n\"Looks like I'm still too late,\" he snarled, grabbing me by my shirt. \"Did I not tell you just one thing, boy?! I told you not to drink!\"\n\n\"You... you're right. I failed you too. I'm failure. I'm useless. Leave me here. I'm only dragging you down.\"\n\nHe set me back down, turning on Quinn. \"Give him a normalizer. Now.\" Smirking, she pulled out a small clear vial and helped me drink it, lifting my head from my arms. I gulped down the tasteless liquid, then sat up, shocked. Terrence grabbed my left arm and spun me back towards him. \n\n\"How the hell do you expect to take on one of the most dangerous slavers in the world if you let some bartender run rings around you?!\" he yelled.\n\nI gulped, then looked towards her, surprised. Run rings around me? Quinn smiled, then said, \"He's a good kid. Heart's in the right place. Good taste in women.\" My cheeks burned - naturally this time - as she winked at me. But suddenly I felt a rush of anger. \"You... you tricked me!\"\n\n\"Of course I did. It's business, James. I do pity your brother. Ravid's an awful creature. But I'm worried a lot more about how much I make than about your problems. Which reminds me...\" As Terrence furiously whipped his wallet out, I stepped back, tears rushing to my eyes.", "Meiko didn't drink. She was just obsessed with those bar top video games - the matching game ones with half-naked ladies behind the cards. She couldn't even begin to understand why. She didn't even really like girls. Didn't generally want to see titties or anything. There was just something about THOSE particular titties. Like hiding behind cartoon playing cards made them a treasure beyond compare.\n\nAnyway, that was her thing. And the machine at Echo's was broken, so she tried the bar next door and they didn't have one. She kept walking down Smith Street, stopping at bar after bar. It occurred to her that maybe this was an unhealthy thing to be doing, but really, it was fine, she was going to deal with it after a few hands of video titty cards.\n\nWhere Smith crossed Main the fun basically stopped. There was nothing beyond but empty office buildings and the sorts of apartments that always appear at the end of the fun blocks. There was one more bar, however, right there on the corner. Meiko hadn't seen it before, but then again, the titty machine at Echo's had never been broken before.\n\nThe crooked door opened to a set of crooked stairs that dropped aggressively downward, in uncommonly deep steps. Meiko felt like a child, holding the handrail as she slid from step to step.\n\nThe interior of the bar was cold, but clean. Polished wooden floors led to through a nearly-empty sitting room to a long, wide bar that arced almost out of sight.\n\nNo video game machine, thought Meiko. Now she was annoyed.\n\n\"Hey!\" she yelled, stomping towards the bar. The bartender was a golden wisp of a man, bespectacled and starched.\n\n\"Yes ma'am,\" he smiled. \"How can I help you?\"\n\n\"How come you don't have any pervert games?\" said Meiko. \"What good is a bar without pervert games?\"\n\nThe smile never faltered. \"You've got me there. What kind of a bar indeed?\" He motioned toward the nearest stool. \"Seems I've wronged you, my dear. How about something on the house?\" \n\n\"I don't really drink,\" said Meiko. \"That's not what I do at bars.\"\n\nThe bartender leaned across the bar. \"You know, I'm not sure drinking's what bars are really for, anyway. I mean, alcohol's a vehicle - not a destination. Right?\"\n\nMeiko's eyebrows went up and slightly to the left. That was all she could think to say.\n\nThe bartender ran a finger over an assortment of glass bottles. \"More about a feeling, right? People use alcohol to help get them somewhere - emotionally. Sad people want to be less sad. Happy people want to be happier. That's...there's a bit more nuance to it, obviously, but that's what it is. And I say - skip the middleman.\"\n\n\"Aren't you the middleman?\" said Meiko.\n\n\"The figurative middleman. Not the actual middleman.\" The bartender shook his head. \"Never mind that. Just tell me - how would you like to feel?\"\n\n\"I'd like to feel like I'm playing titty cards,\" said Meiko. \"But you don't have that. So I guess I'd like to feel like I'm home eating microwave ramen and watching pirated Game of Thrones.\"\n\nThe bartender tapped on the bar top. \"Those aren't feelings. Those are things you do in order to FEEL a certain way. How do they make you feel?\"\n\nMeiko considered this. \"Full.\"\n\nThe bartender sighed. \"Not...\"\n\n\"Like, FULL,\" said Meiko. \"All over. Not empty. Like, like it usually feels like everything is leaking out. Just everything. All the time. And it makes me so tired and empty. And titty cards just...I guess it distracts me. Is that a feeling? I feel distracted. And when I feel distracted I don't feel like garbage.\"\n\n\"Ah.\" The bartender reached below the bar and poured a shot. He held it out to Meiko. It was clear and odorless.\n\n\"I don't drink.\"\n\n\"It's not alcohol.\"\n\n\"That's what date rapists say,\" said Meiko. But still, she took the shot glass and downed the contents. \"Not alcohol.\" Meiko smacked her lips. \"What do roofies taste like?\"\n\n\"It's not a roofie. It's interest.\"\n\n\"Interest? Interest in what?\"\n\nThe bartender raised his arms. \"Life.\"\n\nMeiko gently set the shot glass down. \"O...kay.\"\n\n\"Want another?\"\n\n\"Interest? No...suppose I'm good there.\"\n\nThe bartender poured another shot. \"This is a good one.\"\n\nMeiko was slightly surprised to find herself draining the shot without any hesitation. \"Yeah? What was it?\"\n\n\"Pride.\"\n\n\"I already had pride, dickface.\" But Meiko laughed as she said this, sliding the glass across the counter. \"One more. Then I need to go.\"\n\n\"Which one do you want?\"\n\nMeiko thought. She wasn't sure why she was playing along, but there was a lightness there she couldn't remember feeling. She wanted to run. She wanted to write. She wanted to call her mother and say things she only just then remembered she felt. It was a heat. Deep. Radiant. Pulsing from the core of her being. It was electric. \n\nShe didn't know why she was playing along, but she never wanted to stop.\n\n\"Do you have shame?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yeah?\" said the bartender. \"That's what you want?\"\n\n\"If you have it,\" said Meiko.\n\n\"Of course we do,\" said the bartender. \"Some people, it's all they ever drink.\" He poured the shot. \n\nMeiko took the glass. \"I only need the one. To remember.\" She drank.\n\n\"We all need to remember sometimes,\" said the bartender. \"Come back anytime.\"\n\nMeiko nodded, slipping off the stool. \"Maybe.\" Then she left, walking back up Smith Street. The bars sang a song as she passed. A traveling song. A wish for safe passage to wherever the night may take you. ", "I walked down the dim-lit stairs, the sharp clap of my work shoes echoing in a cracked cement corridor. I would sometimes stop off at Micky's pub on thew way home, but tonight something else caught my eye; a neon sign across the street that I had never noticed before that simply read \"Elation.\"\n\nThe bartender was a thick man, but not fat. He wore a white button-up shirt rolled past his elbow, and a black vest to match. He was beginning to bald, his brown hair thinning near the top. He stood, somber looking, cleaning a glass with a white rag. The bar had a half dozen booths or so, and people sat under different colored lights, each booth cast in a different glow. I sat at the bar, rapping my knuckles twice as the bartender looked up at me. I gave him a smile as he set the glass down, leaning on the bar with both arms.\n\n\"And what will you be having tonight, Jim?\" He asked in a voice that was higher pitched than his size would suggest. How did he know my name?\n\"Uh, I'll just have a scotch, neat. I never noticed this place before. Are you new?\" \nThe thick man chuckled. \"New? No son, we're not new. Maybe you just didn't look hard enough before. Also, sorry to tell you but we don't have scotch.\"\n\"That's fine.\" I said, shrugging. \"Just give me anything you have on tap. Domestic would be preferable.\"\nThe stout man looked at me like he would a child. \"I think you misunderstand me. We don't serve alcohol here, but I do have something that can help you forget, if that's what you need.\"\n\nI frowned. \"No alcohol?\" I asked, my confusion obvious. \"What kind of bar doesn't have alcohol?\" I looked up at the chalkboard above the bar. The drinks had strange names. Regret, anger, sorrow, happiness, apathy. Each drink seemed to be named after an emotion. It figured that they would have to name them like that. A bar didn't go far in this town unless they had a way to catch peoples attention. \"Pick for me then. Dealers choice.\" I said. \n\nThe man smiled, then began mixing a drink. I didn't recognize the bottles he poured from; they must have been imported or small batch distilleries. He poured the drink into a martini glass. The drink had a deep green hue, mist rising from the top of the glass. \"And what's this?\" I asked, lifting it to my nose. It had a lemon scent, with something sweet I couldn't put my finger on. \"Wonder.\" he stated simply. He didn't say more, so I shrugged, lifting the glass and taking a drink. \n\nThe room burst with color. How had I never found this place before? The lights from the sign swirled in the air. How did light work like that, and how did you add the color? I felt the smooth bar beneath my hand. How did they get such a big piece of wood so far from the forest, and how did they get it so smooth? I felt small, wondering why I was here, why I was alive. How could so many ideas and possibilities...\n\nThe feeling faded. A dim green light dimmed above my head as it cleared. I pushed the drink forward, jerking my stool back to stand. \"What did you put in my drink?\" I shouted. \"Are you trying to drug me?\" \n\nThe large man chuckled. \"Exactly what I said it was, son. Wonder. Care to try another?\" He asked, motioning to the board. I looked, more curious than angry now. The effect hadn't lasted long, so why not try another? \"I'll take a sorrow,\" I replied, \"but only a small shot.\" The large man nodded, then began mixing again. When he finished he poured a dark blue liquid into a thimble size glass, not more than a few drops. It was thick like honey. \"You don't want too much of this one, trust me.\" I shrugged again, then drank the thick liquid.\n\nMy eyes instantly felt heavy. I was close to 40, single, and far from where I wanted to be in my career. I lived alone, and had no family. What was the point of it all if this was all that life had to offer? Tears began to stream from my eyes as I thought of all I didn't have, all of the things I would never accomplish. I was a complete failure at life. I couldn't do anything right, and...\n\nI came down from the emotion. A dark blue light dimmed above my head, and I sucked in a deep breath. These were not the names of drinks on the board, they were actual emotions! The large man gave me a smile, knowing that I finally understood. \"One more, for the road?\" He asked. I couldn't pass it up. I didn't know what was happening, but I needed another; I needed it more than anything. \"I want anger,\" I said briskly, \"a lot of it. The next thing I knew there was a large glass of blood-red liquid in front of me. I drank it all in three swallows. \n\n\"I could feel the heat raise up inside me. The world was doomed. We lived in a cynical, selfish, destructive time. I hated my boss for leaving me behind for the promotion. I hated myself for not following my dream of writing a book while traveling the country. Most of all, I hated the world. I hated what it was, and what it had become. Scum filled the streets, a cancer, siphoning off the needy and kind. I had to go and...\n\nI came to, breathing deep and hard. A red light dimmed above my head as I calmed myself. \"I think you've had enough for a day.\" The large man said. \"I want to try one more.\" I pleaded. He slowly shook his head. \"Not today son, not today.\" \nI slumped, but stood anyway. \"How much for the, er, drinks?\" I asked. \n\n\"No charge. you pay for them in your own way.\" he said. \"Well, thanks. I'll be back.\" I said with a wave. \"Oh, I'm sure you will.\" he replied. I saw a drink on the list as I stood to go. \"What's nirvana like?\" I asked, raising my eyebrow. \"He chuckled again, shaking his head. \"Not on the menu yet.\" I nodded, then turned to leave. I looked at the patrons at the tables, under different colored lights. They all strangely looked like me. I'm not sure why that didn't bother me.\n\nI walked up the stairs and back into the night. \n\nMy eyes opened. I sat on a soft cushion, legs crossed and hands cupped before me. I felt calm, at peace. My meditation had been getting better, I had a truly clear mind. Free of thought, free of emotion. I felt like what had troubled me that day had melted away. I didn't know how, but meditation had started to bring me peace, and tonight felt different than the rest of the nights. \n\nI slept better that night than I had in weeks. \n" ]	3
	[WP] You find a "help wanted" sign on the front door of the White House. They're trying to fill a position for President.	[ "Jenny knocked on the white treehouse door. Help Wanted: President the sign said. The door it was attached to squeaked on its hinges by the suspicious operator. \"Who is it? Oh it's you Jenny.\" The door swung open to reveal George, Bill and Bam. \n\"Oh not you Jenny! You can't be President! Read the rules: No Girls Aloud\". George grumped in the corner. Jenny stuck her tongue out. \"You can't do that; it's sexint. Besides I'm not Cheryl Tweedy so I'm allowed in.\" \n\"T-told you we should have changed the sign, George\" Bam stuttered. \"Anyway, she's the only nice one who's asked. Otherwise it's your sister Hilly, Bill\" the flash of fear across Bill's face showed his opinion on that \"Or Donny from down the road.\" The three boys shivered. Donny was... odd. \n\"Well Jenny?\" George asked. \n\"Well what? You haven't asked me\" Jenny knew the importance of having things stated clearly. Her mother had clipped her ears the last time she played fast and loose with instructions. \n\"Well Jenny...will you be our President of the White House?\" \n\"I accept. Now what?\" \nWhat turned out to be a bag of sweets from George, and Jam Rolly-Polly from Bam's mother. And lots and lots of fun", "I stared at the sign with an air of amusement. \n\nHELP WANTED: \nPRESIDENT OF \nTHE UNITED STATES \n\nThe black paint of the words was faded and the sign itself was peeling off the wall. Next to it, the front door to the White House stood silent and ajar, as if hesitantly inviting someone in. I shouldered my gear and turned away. \n\n\"Hey! Don't go!\"\n\nI looked back over my shoulder. Not a soul in sight.\n\n\"Up here!\"\n\nI turned toward one of the windows, where a man dressed in a rumpled suit waved at me. His face was lined with age and dust.\n\n\"Please come in! We have a proposition for you,\" he shouted.\n\nI pointed to the sign. \"Yeah, I see it. Not interested.\"\n\nHe looked crestfallen. \"At least give us a chance to explain,\" he pleaded. \n\n\"I've got places to be (not true) and I can't waste time not looking for supplies or food.\" Very true.\n\nHe disappeared from the window. I stood and waited for several seconds, and then his head popped back into view. \"We can give you a little bit, in return for just listening to us.\"\n\nI raised an eyebrow. This seemed suspicious, but who was i to turn down free stuff? \"OK, I'll hear what you have to say,\" I agreed. \n\n\"Great! Just go right through the front opening, I'll meet you down th--\"\n\n\"No,\" I said firmly. \"You and whoever else come out here. We can talk on this lawn thing, where I'm standing. \"Go into unknown territory, where people I didn't know could be hiding in every shadow? I hadn't survived this long to die so stupidly.\n\nAgain, his head disappeared. I could faintly hear the sounds of an argument within. Not long after though, he came back. \"We can't do that, it's dangerous out there.\"\n\nI grinned. \"OK, well, I'll be going, then.\"\n\n\"No! Don't go! Don't you understand, this is for the good of the country!\"\n\nThis time I couldn't help but laugh out loud. \"Good of the country? Really?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he replied in all seriousness. \"This country is riding some rough waters now, but a good leader can pull us out and onto a smooth course. Someone like you.\"\n\nI decided to play along. \"Oh really? And how would I qualify for such an enviable, esteemed position?\"\n\n\"You look like leadership material,\" he responded. \"Strong build, determined walk, healthy and alert. And you stopped to look at the sign.\"\n\n\"You guys have very low standards for what makes President of the United States.\" \n\n\"Well, if you come in here, we can assess you better,\" he argued. \"But I just have this feeling, you know?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"This feeling that you would make a great President, who could make this country great again,\" he continued. \"We all think so. Right?\" A indistinct cacophony of agreement sounded from inside of the room.\n\n\"Yeah, no thanks,\" I said and began walking away.\n\n\"Don't you dare turn your back on your country!\" he shouted hoarsely. \"Together, we can create a new chapter, an age of revival, a--\"\n\nI cut him off with harsh laughter. \"listen, man. There will be no new chapter for this country. This country only exists anymore in name, not reality. Have you people been out there as of late? It's a wasteland. No law, no fuel, no food. A president isn't going to make things better.\"\n\n\"If we work together--\"\n\n\"Do yourselves a favor and forget that stuff,\" I advised him. I shouldered the rest of gear and began to walk away, my footsteps echoing in the unnatural stillness of the world. \"Try to find some food and live the rest of your short lives trying not to be miserable. It's all anyone can do these days.\" I ignored his calls to come back, and turned my attention the road. I still didn't know where I was going, but at least I was moving. That'll likely get me somewhere else, somewhere with maybe a little more hope.\n\nOr maybe one day, I'll take a step, and then another, and another, and then just fall on the ground, stone dead. Whichever comes first. \n\n\n____________________________\n\n\n\nLiked that? More stories [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Idreamofdragons/)!" ]	2
	[WP] Writing prompts suddenly become sentient creatures, stalking humans and killing those who cannot write appropriate responses to them.	[ "A prompt\n\nof prose\n\nwas sighted here\n\njust yesterday.\n\nIt was a clear\n\nand scheduled day\n\nof which we know\n\nwhen suddenly\n\nout from the snow\n\na looming, wretched\n\nfigure stood,\n\nI prayed he stay\n\nclose to the wood,\n\nand yet he wandered\n\ncloser, still,\n\nall down our backs\n\nwe felt a chill\n\nand not of snowfall\n\n'round our heads,\n\nbut rather chill\n\nof loss and dread.\n\nIt creepéd closer,\n\ncloser, still,\n\nand moments later\n\ncame a shrill\n\nand scathing screech\n\nfrom bowels deep\n\nwithin the prompted prose.\n\nI cried and froze.\n\nMy mind began\n\na race to see\n\nif I could answer hence.\n\nMy hands reached down\n\nin both my pockets,\n\nI found myself bereft of pens.\n\n\n", "As I write this there is suddenly a noise coming from the other side of my bathroom door. Who is it? I ask. Suddenly the door blows wide open. And there standing in the doorway was millions of tiny redditors. Aw how cute I thought when they suddenly began to coagulate into one massive figure. Suddenly it spoke. M0nkeyfire! Your submission to writing prompts contains severe grammatical error and in general is a travesty. Plus you use the word suddenly like 6 times. We have hunted you down to where you currently sit, shitting on your toilet. And now you must die for such a low grade submission. Suddenly they lunged at me and as I stood up to escape, the red marks on my legs foreshadowed the lack of circulation within. I suddenly collapsed into my shower, ripping the curtain of and receiving a laceration on my head. The million redditor creature just stood there laughing at my demise before leaving me for dead. As I lay here, finishing my submission I wondered if I simply don't hit send, will I be spared? Maybe. But id rather go out with as much sweet sweet karma as I can get." ]	2
	[WP] Nuclear war, documented on the Reddit front page	[ "# /r/politics: \"CNN: President Christie announces retaliatory strikes\"\n\nYeah, funny how that headline never mentioned who we were retaliating against. Half a dozen dirty bombs set off simultaneously in the five largest US cities plus DC, and all anyone knew about the source was that they'd been flown in around midnight thanks to drones bought off Amazon with gift cards.\n\nNo demands. No religious ranting. Just pure, unmitigated terrorism for the sake of inducing terror rather than political change.\n\n# /r/adviceanimals: \"Did North Korea seriously nuke itself?\"\n\nFull-on failed launch there. Way to go, Kim Jong Un. Biggest launch ever from there, and the missile makes it all of about three thousand feet up before swan-diving into the heart of Pyongyang. China looked the other way; the last few years, North Korea hasn't been anything other than a public nuisance, like your drunken uncle.\n\nRussia didn't and immediately started pointing fingers at us, claiming we'd fired a missile.\n\n# /r/enlightenedbirdmen: \"TONIGHT WE INVADE SQUAWWWWWK\"\n\nIt's been three weeks of this now, with everyone sitting at the edge of their seat expecting Putin or Christie to go full retard and unleash flaming nuclear death upon half the world. China's basically the only thing holding it together, but low-yield nukes have been used in skirmishes all over the place.\n\nOPEC just consists of Venezuela now; the Middle East imploded into a horrible cataclysm of human sacrifice for reasons that aren't entirely clear, and the easiest solution for both us and Russia to claim that it was the main front in the skirmishes. Honestly, it's not really a surprise; ISIS had been moving further and further from anything that could be considered reasonable religion and toward outright demon-worship for a while now.\n\n# /r/askscience: \"How long does it take to clean up fallout in oil country?\"", "I never liked the news. My days were usually spent playing video games and smoking weed. But Reddit was by far my favorite past time. I'd spend hours on /r/trees and /r/funny. Most of the time I hated reading, but I'd occasionally spend time browsing /r/writingprompts.\n\nIt's humorous how the world can change dramatically while you sleep. I woke up one day and began my normal routine by popping open reddit. Everything on the front page was dedicated in some way or form to the following headline: \"Nuclear explosion in Warsaw. Russian troops believed to be in Lithuania.\" \n\nI didn't go to work that day. Hell, I didn't even call in. I just browsed reddit. /r/Poland was a mess. People were posting pictures of refugees pouring out of cities. Some burned. Some missing limbs. Many were blinded. All looked dead. There wasn't much from inside the city, though.\n\nLinks popped up on /r/news. \"NATO Response Force has been mobilized and is en route to Warsaw for relief operations\" \"NATO emergency meeting convened in Brussels\" \"Kissinger: Europe may seek peace and concede Baltic to Putin\" \n\nSeoul was the next to go. I'm no expert, but I gotta guess the North Korean government figured America would be too busy in Europe to worry about the People's Republic taking a shot at South Korea. They were very, very wrong. Within an hour, eight American nuclear weapons slammed in North Korea. Two hours later, four more followed. Pyongyang couldn't destroy America like Russia could. News camera from helicopters trailed masses of starving, irradiated citizens of the Hermit Kingdom as they swarmed over to South Korea and China.\n\nThe South placed them into hastily made refugee camps. \n\nThe Chinese bombed them. Nobody was about to put up a fuss, though. America just glassed their neighbor's country. \n\nThe world watched with bated breath as they waited for America's response. Twelve hours after I woke up to a world on the brink, the President had an answer. Speaking at a live press conference, he told an anxious crowd what he decided to do.\n\n\"Ten minutes ago, I authorized nuclear missile strikes on Saint Petersburg, Kazan, and Omsk. We will not stand for the wanton use of weapons of mass destruction.\"\n\nHe walked away from the podium, leaving a room full of excited reporters to scream and shout without avail.\n\nAnother link pops up on /r/worldnews. \"President: We're nuking three Russian cities. World uncertain.\n\nThe world is uncertain, indeed.\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are a deity that created our planet; however, you forgot about it for many thousands of years and just rediscovered its existence.	[ "Words cannot explain the beauty of the galaxies I have created, the civilizations, their cultures, their lives, deaths, in some cases extinctions. Each planet I breathed life into has grown and the pleasure of watching it grow has been an indescribable experience of joy and pleasure. I like to think that I have given each planet an equal chance at survival, however,it seems that I have finally made too many that I have began to forget some of them. I'll tell you the story of the first planet I ever forgot. \n\nI created the planet in a time before time was a concept. To begin with I made it hard and rough, I never intended it to host any life but when I saw the potential I soon changed my mind. The molten rock was turned to land where the organisms would live. The lava lakes were turned to oceans which would encompass the planet. In its' early years it was beautiful, rich and wonderful in every way.\n\nI created the species which would live there. I started small but, as I said before I like to give every civilization equal chances, so I gradually built them up. They were strange, different from my normal concoctions. I called them humans and to them I entrusted my planet which would one day be called Earth. \n\nHowever, the early stages, while fascinating, are pretty much the same on every planet and you only really get to enjoy a planet when it has aged, as a human would say, like a fine wine or an old lady for someone who likes that kind of thing. \n\nSo I returned to my older creations and watched them as they grew and developed. It was marvellous. However, I forgot to return to Earth and many years passed, many billions of years.\n\nOne day I decided to create a new planet in a galaxy I had barely used. I had brief memories of being here many years ago but couldn't quite place when. Then I saw it, a small blue dot. Earth. \n\nI watched quizzically and saw that the humans had grown. They were very advanced when I found them. But they were riddled with problems: poverty, abuse, hunger, war. I decided the situation was right that I could intervene. However, when I arrived they refused to believe that I was a deity (as I am formless and infinite I decided to take a human body so that they wouldn't implode). So I started a \"youtube channel\" and changed form on live internet but they just said it was \"crappy cgi\". Eventually I decided it was time to truly change the planet. I paused my game and reloaded my last saved game. God the game SIM GOD can get annoying when you lose track of your save data. ", "Oh god, no, augh, total hell.\n\nThat's what I get for taking a phone call.\n\nIf you don't Do something before they get to be humans, everyone starts up a religion and the whole project is completely ruined. Oh shit they're exploding each other. Oh man, my wife is gonna kill me; this project was really expensive.\n\nJesus Christ they're in the rest of the solar system! No, no no no no, auugh I'm never gonna be able to get them out of there! Wait a minute, is that a robot? They're making robots now? Oh, thank god, I'll just wait a couple hundred years for the robots to wipe everyone out, then I'll just deactivate the robots and start over. Where did I put that big magnet?" ]	2
	[WP] You are a superhero with the power to revive anyone who has died, good as new. This is your only power.	[ "\"I don't want to,\" Sam says, swallowing hard past the lump of tears in his throat, small hands shaking. \"I don't want to.\" \n\n\"But you have to, sweetie,\" Darla says, her hand soft against Sam's shoulder. She always touches him with such kindness, but Sam knows better now. \n\n\"Please don't make me,\" Sam begs, tears threatening to roll down his soft cheeks, hands and knees shaking as the elevator descends lower, lower.\n\n\"You don't have to stay this time,\" Darla assures him. \"We were too hard on you. But this one, this one will be the last one for awhile. I promise.\" \n\n\"You always do,\" Sam says, rubbing at his eyes furiously. He knows Darla hates hearing it, the wet edge of his voice an accusation, but he never knew how--slippery--blood could be--\n\nThe elevator dings before Darla can say anything, but Sam already sees her disappointed face forming. He means to hurry out of the confining space and move down the hall to the Room, but his knees lock. Darla's hand touches his back, so warm and strong, gently pushing him forward as she walks. \n\nDarla opens the door for Sam, and Sam holds his breath, bracing for the sight. \n\nJohn is standing outside the Cage in his red and white suit, arms crossed over his broad chest. He took Sam out flying once, held him so securely in his arms as they flew over the city. Sam loved him for that. \n\n\"Sam,\" John nods. \"We didn't think we would need you this time around. But it seems we really didn't know just who we caught in our little mouse trap. Eli got a little carried away.\" He turns sheepish saying that, shifting on his feet before settling again into a stance that spoke of power and authority. \n\nSam nods mutely, swallows and walks towards the glass of the Cage to see how bad it is. \n\nEli is standing off to one side, frowning and muttering to himself. He could have gotten out of the Cage, waited outside with John for Sam to come, but, he told Sam, he liked to keep things simple. Information learned in one room could be remembered differently when in a different room. Sam, too blinded with admiration then to have asked anything else, simply nodded. Now, Sam has no desire to ask Eli of anything. \n\nThe body at Eli's feet, as least, looks human this time. \n\n\"I'm sorry, Sam,\" Eli says when Darla opens the door with a sequence of numbers. \n\nSam nods mutely. He steps forward carefully. There's no way to avoid the puddles of blood, so he tries to keep his balance, forces his legs to move again when the squishing under his shoes echoes loudly inside his ears. \n\nHis hands shake as he leans down with reaching fingers. He closes his eyes, breathes with lungs gone frigid with fright, and touches the bloody mess of a body with a surge of power and-- \n\nSam can feel the moment the body begins to repair itself under his hands. The bones and muscles shudder, forced back into alignment. Blood swells into veins with the sound of rushing, gurgling water. The heart begins pumping, and the brain gathers itself from a mush to start up its electrical wirings of the body. The lungs expand--Sam pulls back just before the body writhes and screams. \n\n\"NO!\" it shouts, eyes so wide and terrified, the same terror Sam must be wearing as the body reaches out, \"Please, oh please don't let them--\"\n\nDarla is suddenly there, scooping Sam away as Eli eclipses the now-alive body with his dark form. \n\nEli is shouting, but all Sam can hear is the now-alive body's sobbing. \n\nDarla presses Sam to her. \"It'll be okay, you did great. Let's go wash your hands.\" \n\nSam clutches to her even when he knows he shouldn't, his red, red hands ruining her pretty blond hair. \n\n\"D,\" Sam says as he buries his face into her shoulder, wanting so badly to feel safe again, before they started asking him to do these things. \"is this really good? I don't feel like it's good.\" \n\n\"You're a hero, Sam,\" she says, rubbing his back soothingly. \"What you do, you help us catch the bad guys.\" \n\n\"They get so hurt. I don't want to hurt anybody.\" \n\n\"You aren't.\"\n\n\"But you kill them all over again because of me.\" \n \nDarla stiffens, hand stopping her comforting motion against his back. Sam wiggles in her arms until Darla almost drops him, catching him in time for Sam to land on his feet. \n\n\"We don't kill them, Samuel,\" Darla says, her voice hard. \n\nSam walks over to the sink without saying anything, turning on the red-marked knob until his hands are almost burning from the hot water. Then he scrubs them with soap furiously. \n\n\"Because I bring them back,\" Sam says. \"You don't kill them if they end up still living.\" \n\n\"What we do is for good.\" \n\nSam presses his wet hands to his eyes to hide the tears, but there is too much, always too much, after they ask him to do it. A sob escapes him. \"Then why do I feel so bad?\" \n", "I park my car a block away from the theater and jog the rest of the way. As I stop to catch my breath, I look over the crime scene and gag a little. The bodies were still there- two men, five women- and there were at least two bullet holes in each one of them.\n\n\"Yes, it makes me sick as well,\" the Chief comforted me, patting me on the back, \"knowing that someone would be able to cause these many deaths.\"\n\n\"Listen,\" I began to tell him as I looked at him, \"you probably know who I am and what I do, so just allow me to-\"\n\n\"W-what? I can't just let anyone who asks to go up close to fresh corpses to do so,\" He exclaimed, aghast. Clearly, he had no idea who I was.\n\nSighing, I turned to another cop and asked her, \"Don't you know who I am?\"\n\nShe looked over at me really quick before nodding; then, she went back to taking notes.\n\n\"Ahem,\" I alerted her, and then I gestured toward the Chief.\n\nRealizing what I meant, she went up to him and explained, \"I've seen him at crime scenes before when he managed to get here before us; he's got this strange ability to revive people... and it's never not worked.\"\n\n\"That sounds like something I should've known about,\" He commented before turning to me and saying, \"You can go ahead, if that's what you can do.\"\n\nI smiled and stepped over the yellow police tape. Then, I waved a hand over every corpse that laid on the ground. Soon, they rose from the ground, looking healthy as ever.\n\n\"The bullets disappear, by the way,\" I informed him." ]	2
	[WP] Your father is invincible. Your mother can shoot fire from her fingers. Your sister is super fast. Your only power is to persuade babies to do your bidding.	[ "Over a year in planning. \n\nMonths in study and preparation - memorizing routes, schedules, locations and faces.\n\nThousands of Dnaris spent gathering the proper equipment and bribing the right officials. \n\nAll leading up to this. \n\n--------------------\n\nDespite visual evidence to the contrary, nothing could actively convince my rampant, claustrophobia-induced anxiety that this was, in fact, a rather spacious air duct. Flat on my stomach, I used the spare inch on either side of my body to slowly wiggle forward like a clumsy, awkwardly shaped snake. Even though I had spent months studying the plans of the Royal Palace, there was no guarantee that the duct was reinforced enough to hold my weight if I rushed things. Sweat dripped copiously from my brow, adding a dull, intermittent drip noise as the drops fell onto the metal, punctuating the silence between my ragged breaths. \n\n\nRounding the corner, the end came in sight - a literal light at the end of the tunnel, cut into strips by the grate that sat over the opening into the room below. Taking the better part of half an hour, I slowly crawled towards my egress from my confined torture, repeating to myself that in the end, this will all be worth it.. \n\n\nAs I neared the grate, I heard a quiet voice rising from below, seemingly having a one-sided conversation with no one. Peeking over the side, I could make out a dark haired individual sitting at a desk, in an ornate, overly decorated chair. He muttered something into the phone he was speaking into and promptly hurled it across the room; the phone collided against the wall and split into a million pieces, like a child had smashed open a pinata filled with electronic components. He shoved himself away from his desk angrily and stood, turning around, showing me his face. \n\n\nSuddenly, my anxiety was completely gone. Replaced with a feeling of joy, of electric lightning and butterflies that started in my stomach and spread out to my fingertips. This is it. This is the right place. \n\n\nThe longer I stared at his face though, the more the elation was replaced with Rage. My face began to feel hot, my brow furrowed and a scowl replaced the indifference on my face. I began to reach for the grate, overwhelmed to hop out of the air duct RIGHT NOW - but as my hand gripped the ridges in the air duct cover, I hesitated. My knuckles turned white and my hands began to shake, the internal struggle clearly shown all through my body language. It took all of my willpower, but eventually I was able to force myself to let go, to leave the grate intact. I let my head drop against the metal of the air duct and closed my eyes, letting the sweat pool around my forehead as I practiced controlled breathing and regained my composure. \n\n\nAfter a few minutes, I raised my head and checked my wristwatch. \"20 minutes left, not long now..\" I muttered, almost inaudibly. Instead of staring at the target below, I opted to stare at my watch and count off the seconds. Every time I even looked at Dictator Volantis, overwhelming urges of petty revenge surged through my entire being. But I had spent too long, sacrificed too much, come too far to let everything be ruined by simple passions now. \n\n\n------------------------\n\n\nWith a deafening CLANG, the grate was removed from its mounts and fell to the floor; at the same time, I lept through the hole and landed with a flourish, one knee bent to soften the blow. \n\n\nThe startled leader spun around with a quickness that was unnatural for his age, and locked eyes with me.\n\n\n\"You…\" he muttered, recognizing my face instantly. \n\n\n\"Yes, me.\" I replied. The longer he was calm, the better chance this had of working. \n\n\n\"I assume you plan to assassinate me? You won't get very far. This is the heart of the palace, there's two whole legions between you and the front door. Even if you have an alternate route, they'll seal the Archangel's Causeway and that's the only way on or off of this plateau.\", the grizzled dictator replied to me, clearly confused at my motives. \n\n\n\"Contrary to your assumptions, you're not useful to me dead.\" I replied curtly, talking slowly to stall for a few more seconds. \n\n\n\"Then.. Why? Contrary to your assumptions, I don't like unnecessary killing. Your parents were eliminated because they were too powerful - Fire manipulation, Near-Invulnerability.. too powerful to be left unchecked. And they refused to submit. I wanted to leave you alone, but now that you're here.. I can't let you leave.\" \n\n\nWe stared each other down, not moving an inch. After what felt like an eternity, the grand double doors on the opposite side of the room burst open. Almost faster than the doors could move out of her way, an elderly woman in gaudy dress sped through the entrance. She beelined for Dictator Volantis. \n\n\nHe broke eye contact with me to spin around and greet the new arrival; he smiled on reflex, seeing who it was. \n\n\n\"Mother!\" he said, partially in shock. \n\n\n\"My BAAAABYYY\" she wailed in response, walking up and pinching the man's cheeks. Volantis stared into the distance for a moment, a blank expression on his face, as she manhandled his cheeks. \"Are you sick? Have you eaten? Are you getting rest?\" She gently shook his shoulders, concerned about the lack of immediate response. \n\n\nI cleared my throat, and Volantis did the same. \n\nYes, yes, mother, I'm just fine. Not sick at all, just a little tired, I mouthed. \n\n\"Yes, yes, mother, I'm just fine. Not sick at all.\", Volantis replied. ", "\"...Bwock?\"\n\n\"Block. L. BLOCK. Come on Anthony, try it.\"\n\n\"Bw... Bwock.\"\n\n\"He can't say it yet, James,\" Ms.Tracy laughed, fixing the block on top of the tower.\n\n\"I know,\" I quickly replied to reassure her. \"It's OK. My dad said most babies don't talk until much later.\"\n\n\"That's very true. It's all because you're such a great teacher!\" I felt my cheeks growing red. She was very nice. \"You taught him five words in a few hours! You're ten, right?\"\n\n\"Yes mam.\"\n\n\"Well I'm very impressed,\" she said, smiling, ruffling my hair. I blushed again. \n\n\"The kids haven't eaten you alive yet?\" a new voice said, as a tall grinning man entered the room.\n\n\"Dad!\" I exclaimed, running over to hug him. He laughed and swung me up into the air, then gave me a big kiss on each cheek.\n\n\"Well mine can't eat anything yet, and you've done an incredible job raising this little gentleman.\"\n\n\"Little gentleman? My James?\" he gasped, flicking me on the nose. \"All my hard work to raise a pirate warlord and here he is, charming everyone!\"\n\n\"We go on pirate adventures - but not real ones, just pretend,\" I quickly explained to Ms.Tracy. \"I'm Captain Scallywag and he's my first mate. He always makes people walk the plank and then falls off of accident.\"\n\n\"It's not an accident! It's a cunning ruse! I'm luring the sharks to our ship so they can eat our prisoners!\"\n\n\"But you always get stuck and get bitten! And the prisoner escapes!\"\n\n\"That's because you don't throw me a rope!\"\n\n\"I'm the Captain, it's not my job!\"\n\n\"We're the only ones on the ship!\"\n\n\"No, Mom plays sometimes! She can do it!\"\n\n\"She's the evil witch, she's not supposed to help people!\"\n\n\"You made Stella an evil witch?\" Ms.Tracy interjected, smiling. She had picked up Anthony and was standing up. She was almost as tall as dad but she was wearing heels so it didn't count.\n\n\"She asked me to! I wanted her to be a beautiful mermaid, but she complained it was misogynistic.\"\n\nI wanted to explain more, but I realized I didn't recognize that word. \"What's that?\"\n\n\"What's a mermaid? Don't be silly, you know-\"\n\n\"No, what's mys... mysog... mys...\"\n\nHe finally felt sorry for me after having a good laugh. \"Misogynistic is someone who thinks women are worse than men.\"\n\n\"Like all the boys in my school? They all say girls have cooties.\"\n\n\"Kinda. Most people grow out of it, but I guess some never learn cooties aren't real - wait, was I supposed to say that?\"\n\nMs.Tracy gasped and Dad looked scared, but I knew that was his pretend scared face. \"Don't worry Ms.Tracy, he's just pretending!\" They both started laughing again, although I didn't really think there was anything funny.\n\n\"Ah, Adam, there you are! I had returned from the restroom and was worried you disappeared!\"\n\nDad turned around. A short, slightly fat man wearing a suit stood before us. He had a big white mustache and his hair was neatly combed back. \"And this young man must be James! We haven't met yet! I came in a bit late, got stuck in traffic. Call me Mr.Scott. Nice to meet you!\"\n\nHe stuck out his hand and I shook it as I said, \"Hello, I'm James. It's very nice to meet you.\"\n\n\"Your son has a great handshake Adam, you should be proud!\" he exclaimed, turning towards Dad. I quietly kicked Dad in the hip. My throat felt very dry and my heart was beating very fast.\n\n\"That's all Stella's work, she takes huge stock in handshakes. Thinks they tell a lot about people.\" His face didn't change, but he cleared his throat twice. He understood.\n\n\"Oh? And what do you think?\"\n\n\"Eh... I never cared much about that kind of thing.\"\n\n\"Hmph. It's an interesting field of study. You should listen to your wife, people don't think as much about their handshakes as they should. Where was she again?\"\n\n\"She's on a business trip in Argentina right now. Some new software they're marketing.\"\n\n\"Ah. Well I'd very much like to meet her. Next time, perhaps?\"\n\n\"If she can fit it into her schedule. It's packed this time of year - and we take up so much of her time with our pirate adventures.\"\n\n\"Pardon me?\"\n\n\"We're pirates!\" I reluctantly interjected, knowing I had to explain. \"Not real, pretend ones. I'm Captain-\"\n\n\"OK, James, let's not bore Mr.Scott,\" Dad said. I let out a relieved breath.\n\n\"I'd hope he has enough patience to not get bored so quickly,\" Ms.Tracy said. I had forgotten she was standing there.\n\n\"Ah, Tracy. The boy OK?\"\n\n\"Of course, honey, what could happen to him?\"\n\n\"Always wise to be cautious my dear, never know what could be hiding out of sight.\"\n\n\"If you say so. James taught him some new words today!\"\n\n\"Really? Hopefully only good ones, hehe.\"\n\n\"Come on Anthony, say 'mom'!\"\n\nThe baby kept sucking his thumb, not even looking at her.\n\n\"Say 'mom'! Come on!... Don't be shy!\"\n\nMy dad tapped me on the back. \"Say 'mom', Anthony!\" I called out.\n\n\"Mom!\" he instantly replied, thumb jumping out of his mouth.\n\n\"Well, hmm, I must admit I'm impressed. Have we found ourselves a new babysitter?\"\n\n\"Maybe. James has always been good with babies,\" Dad replied. I tapped him with my foot again. \"But we really must be going.\"\n\n\"So soon?\" Mr.Scott said, nevertheless leading the way to the front door. \n\n\"Yes, I have to pick Stella up from the airport at four in the morning tomorrow and I want to get a good night's rest,\" Dad replied, slipping on his shoes, putting me down to let me do the same. \"It was great meeting you!\" \n\n\"Wonderful meeting you and your son as well. We'll make sure to tell our son that his daughter has an excellent family.\"\n\n\"Hahaha, we'll be sure to do the same! Very nice meeting you Scott, you as well Tracy, you as well Anthony. Have a good one!\" \n\n\"Bye Ms.Tracy! Bye Mr.Scott!\" I said, waving and trying to smile. They both waved back. Ms.Tracy was beaming at us. Mr.Scott just looked thoughtful. My back prickled as we walked away. The door had closed behind us, but it felt like someone was watching me. I kept looking straight ahead.\n\nAs soon as we got into the car Dad turned around and looked at me, his expression worried. \"What's wrong, James? Why the signal?\"\n\n\"Mr.Scott had a very bad handshake.\"\n\nHe let out a relieved breath, sagging against the chair. \"That's it? You scared me! I thought there was something actually wrong!\"\n\n\"Mom says handshakes never lie! That was the worst one!\"\n\n\"OK, James, I'll let Mom know. Don't worry about it for now. We're going home,\" he replied, starting up the car.\n\n\"What did he mean when he said... something about 'your daughter'? That's Bridgette, right? Is she in danger?\"\n\n\"No, that's why we went to their house. Bridgette is dating their older son and apparently they're getting serious and Mom said we should meet the family. I have no idea why, but-\"\n\n\"Getting serious? Like married?\"\n\n\"I bloody hope not, she better not be marrying in college-\"\n\n\"It's like that one boy when she was an 11th grader!\" I quickly said, excited. \"Remember, she was dating him and it turned out he was a bad guy and the police caught him cause Bridgette found drugs!\"\n\nDad's fist tightened on the wheel. He was angry. \"Mom said that would never happen again.\"\n\n\"But it makes sense, if Mr.Scott is a bad guy and-\"\n\n\"Maybe. I'll ask Mom. Either way, it's none of your business. None of our business. We'll stay out of all that.\"\n\nI sank back against the seat. \"Why? Why does Mom go around fighting bad guys while we just sit at home?\"\n\n\"Because Mom knows what's best for her.\"\n\n\"Why can't we help her? Why can't we go around fighting-\"\n\n\"No! We'll be a normal family living a normal life. No fighting!\" Both of his hands were gripping the wheel now. Bridgette told me to never annoy me to never annoy him more than to make him do that, but I didn't care right now.\n\n\"But why? What if Mom is in danger? What if Bridgette can't do it alone? Why can't I-\"\n\n\"Enough!\" he yelled. I froze. Dad never yelled. \"I will not risk-I...I won't... No! That's the end of the discussion! I told Stella and I told Bridgette and now I'm telling you and that'll be the last time I say it! No heroism or fighting or... or anything! Now, let's listen to some music.\"\n\nHe angrily punched the button to turn on the radio. I looked out the window at the highway rushing past us, scared and frustrated. ", "For a time, we were an unstoppable team. The teamwork between us made us legends. Our family daycare was the best in the world. My father protected us, while my mother burned any would be assassins or mercenaries. The richest kids in the world typically had the most powerful parents and they needed the best. And that was our family.\n\nMy sister was barely over a year older, but she was the glory child. She was fast, she would run to the store for anything the kids needed. That was enough for them. That would make her a hero in their eyes. Once she found an epi pen in seconds; and that was all it took for her to be a hero in everyone else's eyes too. Eyes that would never look at me the same way. \n\nThey all had flashy responsibilities, while I held it all together. I could make the kids do as I wanted. Yea, glorious work that is. They tried to include me, but that only led to ridicule in the articles. 'Super sitter'. They called me. 'Baby puppeteer' was another. \n\nI was the youngest, but so was my power. Everyone made fun of me for controlling babies, their snide remarks meant as humor. I saw them for what they were though. But as I grew up, so did my power, and my bitterness. They aged as I did, grew and matured. People shouldn't ridicule someone, especially when they don't know what their power can become. I still control them, you know, no matter what their age. This is my full power. Has been for awhile. This daycare is the factory that has been building my army for generations with the worlds most powerful families wrapped around my fingers.\n\nThose children are my generals now, and they inherited the world. I made them give it to me. You are all my children. Now, its time you were taught some manners.", "\"... AND HIS GLORIOUS PRESENCE WILL ONCE AGAIN RETURN TO THIS PLANE, HIS SLUMBER ENDS AS OUR FORCES RISE, GIVING WAY TO THE NEW WORLD ORDER...!\" The cultist shrieked into his microphone. \n\nApparently they don't take me to be a threat. I wouldn't either, really.\n\nLilly swayed by my side, abruptly leaning more heavily on my arm, blood loss and a grievous leg wound taking their toll on her, Super-speed lost to a fog of pain.\n\nDad'd voice, enraged, rose from somewhere behind me, though the content of his speech was muffled by the pile of cultist grunts that held him on the ground. Invincible or not, he wasn't Heracles.\n\nMom was struggling herself, writhing in an ineffectual attempt to work the heavy, leaded curtain off of her prone form. No pyromancy when you're swathed in a fire-retardant. \n\n I know my family loves me, but we're less a \"Super Family\" and more \"The Super-Trio and their Trusty Water-boy.\" Some super power I had. \n\nFuckin' Baby Control. Maybe if mom and dad gave us another sibling I might be able to help, but my future was more than likely going to be that of a preschool teacher, if not a corpse.\n\nBut I digress.\n\nIt was looking like this was the end for us, overwhelming enemy forces and all. Not like I was going to swing the odds in our favor by getting a toddler to spit up on the cult leader's stupid hat.\n\n\"... AND NOW...!\" His keening, obnoxious voice raised again.\n\n\"... BEAR WITNESS, HERETICS, TO THE KEY TO THE PRISON WHICH HOLDS HIM...!\"\n\nThe water behind him, dark though it was, visibly shifted and boiled as something began to rise out of it.\n\n\"THE LAST OF HIS SPAWN, THE GREAT MYRECCIAN HORDE!\"\n\nDozens of small, many-legged creatures poured forth from the water, rushing towards my sister and me with barbed tentacles raised aggressively, a terrifying visage which marked the impending end of our lives-\n\nWait, 'SPAWN'?\n\nI glared into the eyes of the foremost creature, one slightly larger and darker in complexion than the rest.\n\nIt immediately halted, prehensile appendages dropping back to frame its face in a manner completely lacking in aggression. It was almost cute, now.\n\nBehind it, its many brethren halted as well, a couple tripping over their own paws.\n\nIt gazed up at me with demonic puppy eyes, tongue lolling as it waited for its unspoken command.\n\nThe leader of the cultists, still grinning like an idiot beneath his ridiculous headwear, hands stretched over his head just as he had raised them in his grand announcement, didn't seem to notice the sudden halt of their charge.\n\nThe knee-height terrors slowly turned back towards him, serpentine limbs once more raising as the mass of octo-pups began to growl ominously.\n\n", "I sat on the floor, staring at my baby brother. \n\n\"Hey.\"\n\nHe looked around, his eyes wide so often I wondered if it hurt.\n\n\"Hey, Ralphie.\"\n\nHe looked up at me with those wide blue eyes, taking in the fourteen year old failure. The same blue eyes, but much darker hair. I mean, he was a baby, maybe it would darken in the sun or something.\n\nA knock at my open door made me jump, and Ralphie spun around. \n\n\"Dinner,\" my sister said, and in a flash, she was gone, a few papers on my desk fluttering to the floor.\n\nI sighed, picking Ralphie up with a grunt and walking him downstairs. \n\n\"Greg,\" Mom said from the kitchen. She walked to the doorframe, one hand holding the pan of chicken and the other underneath, holding a flame under it as it cooked. \"Greg, did you finish your homework?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I sighed, putting Ralphie in his high chair. I leaned to his ear and whispered, \"Get ready, bud.\"\n\nHis eyes lit up and looked up at me as I sat in my usual seat at the dining room table. Right on cue, my sister appeared across from me, my hair ruffled and Ralphie's mouth dropped open.\n\n\"Could you maybe, I dunno, approach the dinner table more casually?\" I asked.\n\nJess pulled out her cell phone. \"What could be more casual?\"\n\n\"Not using your powers, perhaps?\"\n\nThe front door opened, and my sister disappeared again. \"Dad!\" She squealed across the house.\n\n\"Hello, sweetheart.\" His voice was smooth and relaxing; he had the whole don't-fret-I-can-save-your-city/announcer-guy thing going for him. He walked to the table, a newspaper in the crook of his arm. When he sat down and opened the paper, a half-page picture of him and Mom in full costume in the middle of the city stared me in the face.\n\n\"Congrats,\" I said, gesturing to the paper.\n\nHe glanced at the cover and smiled. \"I had no idea! Hon, come look!\"\n\nMom came out, this time with two plates. She set them down and looked at the paper, giving Dad a kiss and walking back into the kitchen.\n\n\"That's gonna be me one day,\" Jess said.\n\n\"Sure is,\" Dad said.\n\n\"And your brothers,\" Mom said, setting chicken in front of me. \n\n\"Yeah, Jess,\" I said, winking at Ralphie, \"you never know, though, we might turn out to be the villains!\"\n\nRalphie's milk bottle flew in the air and faster than I could see, instead of hitting Jess in the head, it was in the palm of her hand.\n\n\"Did you see that?\" Jess yelled. \"Mom, Greg made Ralphie throw his bottle!\"\n\n\"Shut up, Jess,\" I yelled back, trying to high five my giggling brother, \"Ralphie's learning.\"\n\n\"You're such an idiot!\" \n\n\"Okay,\" Dad said. \"Enough of this fighting.\"\n\n\"You're just jealous,\" Jess said, dropping the bottle and standing up. \"We all have real powers. What can you do? You can tell Ralphie to do things for like one year and then you'll have nothing.\"\n\n\"Jess,\" Mom said.\n\n\"Better find a girlfriend who can take care of you,\" Jess sneered, \"with actual powers so you don't end up alone and defenseless--\"\n\n\"That's enough!\" Dad slammed his fists on the table and the roar silenced the house.\n\nJess froze for a moment, before disappearing up the stairs, a few picture frames on the wall suddenly askew. \n\nThe table was silent. Ralphie stared all around with his wide blue eyes. Dad rose and without another word, walked up the stairs.\n\nThe stupid chicken was all blurry looking on the blurry plate. \n\n\"Greg, you know that you're special,\" Mom said. \n\nI stood up and turned away from the table, wiping at my eyes. \"I can talk to babies.\"\n\n\"And there are jobs that desperately need someone like you,\" Mom said, walking around and putting an arm around me.\n\n\"So Jess fights crime and I clean up poop,\" I said. I couldn't help laughing, it sounded ridiculous. \n\nMom laughed with me. \"You're the first influence on a young mind, fighting evils in their heads. How super is that?\"\n\nI chuckled. Pretty super. " ]	5
	[WP]Sir, we have made contact with an advanced alien species. Unfortunately sir, they're assholes	[ "\"Lord Trump, tremendous news from the Trump Nebula 100AT. We've discovered intelligent, sentient life, but-\"\nrudely interrupted by Lord Trump\n\"Intelligent life you say? Go on.\"\n\"Yes, Lord Trump. But the problem is they're assholes.\"\nLord Trumps tiny hands are frightened\n\"We must attack, ready the Nuclear Trump.\"\nNeil Jameson, Trumps NASA advisor screams\n\"No! They're not assholes, but legitimate assholes of all different colors! Some hairy, some bald, all with feelings of their own. They've created their own world!\"\nDonald Trump stares off into the distance\n\"Feelings off their own? I had feelings once. Tremendous feelings. Believe me. I had the best.\"\nTrump takes finger off nuclear launch button for Nuclear Trump \n\"If even the biggest of assholes can be great, maybe I can too\"\nsigh of relief falls over White Trump House briefing room \nDonald looks at launch button engraved with his family crest \n\"But, I've always wanted to blow up a planet. We'll name it Alderaaan.\"\nAlderaaan (copyright) explodes as trump walks out of the Trump briefing room \n\nnext 40 days \n The nuclear explosion on the ass planet of Alderaaan resulted in the spread of assholes around the solar system and yes, it resulted in the Great Ass Flood that lasted 40 days. President Trump was not available for comments on extinction of his race. \n", "\"Assholes?\" \n\"Yes sir. They seem like pricks.\" \n\"Lieutenant, I have half a mind right now to throw you out the airlock for using such language on my bridge.\" \n\"I understand sir. If you just read what they---\" \n\"Mother Earth's fleets deserve better than such vulgarity from an officer!\" \n\"Sir, the message they sent is---\" \n\"How dare you speak in such a way after making contact with an alien species?!\" \n\"I could care less sir.\" \n\"What?!\" \n\"Sir, I joined Mother Earth's fleets as a comm's specialist to be among the first to make a first contact. It's been my dream. You've seen my files and my records. I've dedicated my life to the fleets by the off chance that I could be the one to receive a message from an advanced alien species. Now there's hardly any point.\" \n\"What makes you think you, a lieutenant, can make such an assessment on the fleet's directives?\" \n\"Because two hours ago, I received a message from an Interplanetary Diplomat for the Andromeda Galaxy, and for two hours, I debated deleting it.\" \n\"I'll see you hanged for this Lieutenant!!\" \n\"Like I said sir, it's unfortunate. You should read what they called us. They're assholes.\" \n\"Before I brig you for this, obscene display of insubordination, how in the stars did you determine they are... assholes?\" \n\"I've been trying to tell you sir. Just read the message.\" \n\"Very well. Throw it on the main console screen.\" \n\"Uh, sir, are you sure you want the whole bridge to read this?\" \n\"It can't be more obscene than your vulgarity Lieutenant.\" \n\"You would be surprised sir. [Here it is](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/31bvbr/wp_for_years_an_alien_race_has_been_intercepting/cq05jjg).\" \n\n---------------\n\n\"Oh sweet Mother.\" \n\"Are you alright sir?\" \n\"I... give me a moment Lieutenant.\" \n\"As you wish sir. Shall I escort myself to the brig?\" \n\"No, just... you're dismissed.\" \n\"Aye aye sir. I just have one question.\" \n\"Make it quick.\" \n\"Will do. What in the name of Mars is Mountain Dew?\" " ]	2
The top of the highest mountains, the bottom of the ocean, Antarctica, etc... What's his game?	[WP] An eccentric billionaire has supposedly hidden clues to his fortune in hard-to-reach places all over the world	[ "I was totally ruined. I losed so much in the casino... Last night was the worst of my entire life. However, one man in the casino, really rich looking, talked to me. When I told him that I losed everything, he became really pitifull and said me one thing: I am old, and I decided, a few months later, to make a game. The one that will win gains half of my fortune, he said. I was tempted and asked him how I could participate. Go to the Everest and find the light. Or go to the north of the most dangerous american military base and find the paper. You can still find the big tree in the wild geometrical center of amazonia. I'll announce it tomorrow to some other peoples so be fast. He disappeared right after, and I was sure it was a fake. And there was two chances that I totally failed. So I didn't any of what what he said, and instead, returned in my house. Three days later, On my television, I saw a new serie that is called \"The fortune\" That was the rediffusion of the adventures of 11 people going in dangerous places to gain 1 billion. I felt really bad, really. But I watched it all. And it happens that I never regretted, not to participate, because the rich old man that made the game was like me, ruined. He had not a single dollar anymore...", "It has been 17 years since I first found that diary and the key taped inside the cover at a thrift store. The diary was old but well-kept, with only a single page missing. Since, I have lost 17 long years, two wives, and nearly every penny I've ever earned. Was it all worth it? I suppose that will be for you to judge.\n\nI have seen the bottom of the Mariana Trench. Felt my skin blister as I dangled above the lava at Mount Nyiragongo. I've dived the Angelita cenote. I have been to places so inhospitable that most people can hardly fathom the fact that they exist on our own planet. All in pursuit of, cliched as it is, buried treasure. \n\nMy first wife divorced me while I was trekking about 150 miles from Vostok Station in Antarctica. My second wife died while exploring Xibalba. I lost two fingers to a mountain lion and a literal pound of flesh to a hippo. I can hardly imagine the years my life has been shortened by this pursuit, but I have finally found it. The final location. \n\nUnlike the rest, this one is as mundane as one can imagine: A small farmhouse in the Midwest. I suspected that I was in the wrong place entirely before finding one unusually well-secured door off of the basement requiring a twelve-digit pin to gain entry. A cursory examination of the clue that led me here revealed the code, and now I stand before a disconcertingly small lock box. I write this as I shake before the culmination of nearly two decades, thinking back over the joys and horrors of my life that have led to this moment.\n\nThe key that I had purchased along with the diary fits the lock, and the lid opens with only the slightest of creaks. Inside, I find a large manila envelope which I hastily open. It contains a single, large piece of paper which I unfold hurriedly but with caution. What could it be? Information to access a bank account or safe deposit box, perhaps?\n\nThe paper proves to be a map of the globe, with small red dots detailing the locations of each hint I have sought out and the missing page of the diary folded within. On that page, written with considerable flourish, is two words.\n\n\"The Journey.\"" ]	2
	[WP] You are an immortal spending centuries perfecting every skill and absorbing as much knowledge as possible. Despite all your intellect and practice, there was one thing you could never master.	[ "A small caliber .22 slug. It won't leave much blood or gore.\n\n\"Nice. I'll talk to you again if I need to know anything about guns, boyo.\"\n\nPotassium cyanide. Histotoxic hypoxia - cells can't use oxygen from the bloodstream. Don't take it for the taste.\n\n\"Wow, professor, you know so much about chemicals!\"\n\nOld age. It's like copying a document over and over.\n\n\"You look quite young for your age, mm? What's your secret, cheri?\n\nClifton Suspension Bridge. 75 meters.\n\n\"Wow, you're such a thrillseeker, mister! I wanna be like you when I grow up!\"\n\n\"Sir Perfect!\"\n\n\"Chick Magnet!\"\n\n\"His IQ..!\"\n\nI never could master the art of dying, hm?", "The Immortal Turmoil:\n\nA stone guardian stood on the green field, watching the children play from a distance. No one disturbed him as he stood with his stony gaze. The ancient being began to speak quietly to himself, “How long have I been alive now? 800, 900 years? I have seen civilizations of man, rise and fall. I have learnt all their differences. Architecture, Physics, Basketball, even the harmonica, I have mastered them all.” \n\n“Watch out! Stony dude!” A college student yelled to alert the guardian of an incoming Frisbee. The stone man smiled to himself and let the disk fly just underneath his nose. Without changing his eyes’ direction he extended one finger and caught the Frisbee. Keeping it spinning he rolled it down his shoulders, in between his legs, down to his foot, flicking it back up to his other hand, and then threw effortlessly back to the college student. The student stood there in amazement and subsequently was hit in the head with the Frisbee. \n\n“Even the plastic disk, they call a Frisbee has been mastered.” Eventually everyone in the park went back to what they were doing before. The stone guardian had often realized if he stood still long enough, the humans would assume he was a statue and go about their business. But one boy walked up the Man of Stone. “Excuse me mister, would you like to play to hack-y-sack with me and my friends.” The stone guardian waved his hands “No that is alright you go on ahead, I’ll watch.” The boy turned around to run back to his friends, but they began to disperse and go back towards their homes. \n\n“Aw man, hey would you want to Yo-yo?” The boy asked with large eyes. “No, no, you go ahead,” the guardian, said. The boy whipped out a green and blue yo-yo. The guardian was often amused at those that attempted this game. Watching the human drop the plastic object for it just to dangle from the string. But this boy’s yo-yo did not stop when the rope tightened, it came right back up. The stone man was amazed “You did that so effortlessly?” The boy nodded silently, and then began to do all sorts of tricks, with the string it self. Bouncing the yo-yo off the string, swinging it through like a trapeze, and even walking the yo-yo on the ground like a dog before returning it softly into his hand. \n\n“Let me try!” The stone guardian said with excitement. The boy timidly handed the man his yo-yo. The guardian tied the string around his finger and let the yo-yo drop, but it did not come back up. It merely remained at the bottom of the string and slowly turned. “Again!” the ancient being yelled. The boy stepped back. Again the guardian dropped the yo-yo and again it did not return to his hand. “I wasn’t ready that time,” the guardian said quietly to himself. Again, and again he tried. The boy stood there trying to offer suggestions, but the guardian was too focused to hear the boys words. After 15 minutes of trying the boy said “I have to go my mom is calling me. Can I have my yo-yo back?” The guardian nodded “of course of course, just one more try.” After five more attempts the boy slowly backed up. “It’s okay, I’ll pick it up from you tomorrow.” The guardian nodded too frustrated to see the world around him. The boy scampered away, and the guardian stood there for several more hours. Only ever yo-yo to move upward when, he pulled up the entire string in frustration. \n\nThe guardian likes to claim he has mastered all that Earth has to offer. But from that on, he could no longer claim that. A small child excelled in a field, that he could not even grasp the most basic step. The guardian knew this and it ate at him. After each failed attempt he felt as if a chisel was eating away at his confidence. Again, again, and again, the immortal guardian stood there for 3 more days. Trying to get this string and piece of plastic to bend to his will. “WHAT A STUPID CONTRAPTION THIS IS! IT REQUIRES NO SKILL TO USE AND IS BENEATH ME AS AN IMMORTAL TO LEARN SUCH A TRADE!” With that statement that the entire park’s attention turns to man. They witness as he throws the yo-yo at the lake, skipping like a stone across it’s surface. “Woah dude, I counted 65 skips. That has got to be a world record!” The stone man glared at the college student. The entire crowd held its breath, as the young man did not realize he angered the immortal. Seeing the fear the guardian had caused he sighed, and said “Yes 65 is a new record, I know because I held the previous record.” \n" ]	2
	[WP] When I was 16 my father pulled me out of school and shoved me in the car. His eyes didn't leave the road as he threw a gun in my lap and said, "We're going to get your mother."	[ "The metal felt cold and heavy, far heavier than an object that side should have been. \n\n\"What do you mean, 'get your mother?' You told me I didn't HAVE a -\"\n\n\"Shut up.\" Dad barked. His face was rough, and his eyes were wide and red, as if he had recently been crying. \n\n\n\"But you said she was dea-\"\n\n\"I SAID SHUT UP!\" \n\nI shrank back into the passenger chair, trying to make myself as small as possible. \n\n\nWhat's going on? It isn't like dad to be like this. I glanced at the gun and swallowed nervously. \n\n\nDad was silent for the rest of the car ride, hunched over the steering wheel like he was trying to clutch it to his chest. I couldn't help but notice the holster on his hips, or the number of shotguns resting in the backseat. I hoped that that was the extend of the armament he had decided to bring, but Dad had always been a bit of a gun nerd, so I could only imagine what he had cooked up in the trunk. \n\n\nAfter two hours had passed, during which the New Mexico landscape had gone from city, to suburb, to empty desert, Dad finally pulled off the side of the road. Scrub brush, red clay, and sand surrounded us for miles, but Dad seemed to know exactly where he was. The long drive seemed to calm him down a bit, but while his face was placid his shoulders still seemed drawn tight on his back. \n\n\n\"You see anything screwy, you just point and shoot.\" He said, thrusting a shotgun into my hands. He must have noticed the way I was looking at him, because he put a comforting hand on my shoulder. \n\n\"Don't worry son. It's just a precaution. Hopefully nothing got out this time.\" \n\n\nHe walked out into the desert, not looking back to see if I was following. I stared at the car, weighing my options, and decided that my curiosity outweighed my trepidation. \n\nI expected us to only go a few yards, but instead we wound up hiking for miles. The trail was hot, dusty, and utterly devoid of features. Twice Dad stopped, looking around for some landmark I could not recognize, and made off in a completely different direction. I knew better than to question him. \n\n\nSuddenly, something sprinted out of the low scrub towards our feet. I let out a yell, pointing my gun at the creature, but before I could even get a bead on it Dad had blasted the thing to hell with his shotgun. I got a quick glimpse of the thing, which looked like a frog or toad with too many limbs, before it crumbled into dust and faded away.\n\n\n\"We're close.\" Was all he said. He walked in the direction the creature had come, feet shuffling along the ground. I followed, and after a few steps my footfalls sounded like they were echoing on something metallic. \n\n\n\"Aha!\" Dad exclaimed, face breaking into a nervous grin. \"You found it Rob! Good work.\"\n\n\nHe trudged over to where I stood, and I leapt back as he pulled up a large metal trap door from under my feet. A staircase descended into darkness below, curving slightly as it did. \n\n\nDad handed me a flashlight from his pocket. \"No lighting in here. Keep the beams low, and try not to shine them in her face.\"\n\nWithout more explanation than that, he began to trot down the stairs, with me in tow. He pulled it closed behind him.\n\n\n\"Honey, I'm home!\" He called\n\n\n\n\"Adam, dear! So good to hear from you again.\" A voice hissed from the darkened chambers far below. \"And is that...Rob I smell? Oh, how wonderful! It is always a treat to have family for dinner.\" \n\n\nAt the bottom of the staircase, the floor leveled out into a vast round chamber made of stone. The floor seemed to slope downward towards the center, as if it were a giant bowl. Something rustled deep in the dark, like a heavy object was being dragged across the ground. \n\n\n\"He-hello?\" I stammered. \n\n\n\"Hello Rob. Don't be afraid, we are all fiends here.\" Said the voice. Closer up, the voice was obviously female, with sultry overtones that made my scalp prickle. \n\n\nI really hope she meant friends. I thought. Suddenly, the corner of my flashlight lit an object. \n\nIt was a tail, covered in crimson scales like a serpent, thicker than a man's torso. I followed it with my light, tracing it around the room where it lay draped around haphazardly like some vast, forgotten scarf. To my horror, it seemed to get even larger as it went, almost too large to fit through the staircase. All at once, the scales shifted, becoming smooth pale skin the color of creme. \n\n\n\"Hello Rob.\" Said the woman. \"My name is Echidna, the mother of monsters. Welcome to my brood.\" \n\n", "Finally the day had come that my father had been preparing me for these last few months. \"Remember son, if this doesn't work according to plan, you run as fast as you can and don't stop for anything\". I nodded as I pulled the clip from the gun to ensure the quantity of bullets. As my hand ran along the cold chrome I shuddered at what I knew I had to do, but the things this woman would do to society would be unforgivable if she lived beyond today. \"Father, will I be a hero for my actions?\" I asked trying to take my focus away from the scene playing in my mind. \"Son, sometimes the world needs a martyr more than it needs a hero, even if these people see us as evil we both know the truth, now try and get some rest we've got a few more hours.\"\n\nAs I laid my head against the glass I began to watch the people we passed on the street all going about their day unaware of the danger that could rise if I failed in my objective. Would they care? These people don't pay enough attention to actual facts just what the media organizations feed them. I shut my eyes right as we begin to go through the downtown tunnel heading out of the city. Some time later I awake to an ear shattering sound that shook me to my core. \"Whats going on!\" I screamed out in panic jumping up in my seat. \"Nothing son, it's just a construction zone there is nothing to worry about\" he muttered slightly under his breath \"We are getting closer to the zone, get your gear ready and remember, don't let anyone see your weapons before you get within range.\"\n\nI focused my attention to the clock and then a few blocks ahead to realize that I had been out for a while, I guess all the training had taken its toll on my body as I still felt exhausted, but there was no more time to sleep as in the road ahead there were blockades with thousands of people standing around chanting while holding signs or propaganda. I began to sweat knowing that at any moment one of these people could catch on to what we were planning to do, after all they wouldn't like the idea of their presidential canadet being eliminated so close to the election. Slowly my dad pulled off before reaching the blockade and into a shipping zone where the garage was open just enough for our car to slip inside.\n\n\"Quickly, grab the rifle and head upstairs and get ready I will meet you up there with the rest of the gear in a few moments\" my father said to me as he put the car in park and pressed the button to release the hatch. I quickly got out and walked to the trunk pulling out a long black case as my heart began to pound inside of my chest \"This is it\" I whispered to myself as I began to walk for the stairs with a mixture of joy and dread looming over me. As I reached the upstairs I noticed an open window, this had to be the one my father had mentions weeks ago. I sat the case down and opened the latches pulling out a jet black .50 caliber rifle and screwed it to its bi-pod taking deep breaths to calm my already shot nerves. I heard footsteps coming up as I was adjusting the scope peering out the window toward a stage that had been set up for the upcoming rally. \"It should start any moment now son\" \n\nAs the crowd cheered and chanted I could see the reflection of a black limo in the storefronts lining the side. Slowly a woman dressed in all blue emerged from the limo as the crowd began to go wild, guards escorting her closer to the podium on the stage. I readied my rifle, positioning the cross hairs right above the podium as I chambered a bullet taking in one deep breath. The time had come, she was now at the podium and the crowd had begun to fall into silence to hear the speech that was soon to be given. \"Thank you all for coming out tonight!\" yelled the woman over the microphone \"I have a few announcements that I would like to make before I begin taking questions.\". \"Not a chance\" I whispered to myself \"This is the last time you spread you lies HILLARY!\". I quickly squeezed the trigger on the gun letting out a the breath I had been holding for what felt like minutes as a loud gunshot rang out silencing the entire world to my ears.", "It was one hell of a way to be introduced to your teens. 16, Mr .45 lying in your lap and your Dad guiding his Dodge Charger to it's target. I never met my mother. My dad had told me many years ago that she had left after I was born. That post natal depression had prevented her from being the mother she was to be. He never really spoke of her and the only picture that existed was in his wallet. All I can remember was her eyes were blue. \n\nThe had started normal, woke up and went to school. Around about 11:24am during maths, my dad burst into the room. \n\n'Son, grab your shit, we're leaving', is what he said as he pulled a drag from his cigarette.\n\nI remember the teacher telling my dad he couldn't do it, my dad just stared her down. That's who he was, not a man of many words but a man of many looks. His way had always been that, say it once and if it wasn't done, look at them until it was. He had his way.\n\n'Dad, whats going on?' I remember asking him in the corridor as we walked out of school. He didn't say anything and I didn't ask him anything. As we got in the car, I could see clothes and vital supplies in the back. This was a one way trip.\n\nIt was only after we hit the freeway and put some miles behind us that he spoke to me. \n\n'I burnt the house and took what we needed. We ain't going back their. Were going to get your mother and find a new home', he said nothing more and nothing less.\n\nFor the next few hours we drove in silence until he stopped at a rest stop. He filled the car up and we ate. Food wasn't great but I couldn't complain.\n\nAs we got back in the car and again began our journey, he opened up, I won't forget that moment. \n\n'Your mother is most beautiful women I've ever known. When we met many moons ago before your birth at a Elliot Smith gig. I knew your mother was out of my league but when you see someone you know is destined with you, you take the chance. I did. I never regretted it. The time we spent together was bliss, I loved her and she me. When you were born, we were a family but things never last. Your mother didn't leave because of depression. She left because her family would've killed you if she didn't, her love for you was immense enough that she left to give you life you have had' he pulled out another Marlboro red as between the bars played on the radio. The moon glistened in the distance as the sun began to set. \n\n'So where are we going?' I asked.\n\n'As I said me son, to get her back' with that he handed me Mr .45 he his six children of death. \n\n'Whatever happens tonight, remember I love you and so does your mother, no matter what happens, we love you, okay?' I could sense the emotion in his voice.\n\n'Yes dad' I replied back. As the car surged to its destination, I knew blood would be spilt that night. I didn't care. I wanted to see my mother and no one would stop me. \n\nI remember that night clearly. I remember the dance of death. I remember us going to our new home as a happy family.", "I stared at him with both shock and relief. \n\nI picked the gun up from my lap with deep appreciation for its beauty and construction. Being the little weapons nerd I am, I quickly identified it as a 1911.\n\nI stared back at my dad who's face was stern and fixed on the road. I couldn't help but smile. \"Well it's about damn time pops,\" I said as I slid the back the rack.\n\nHis eyes finally broke away from the road to his bloodthirsty son. The desire to kill must have been shining from my eyes. \"You knew?\" he asked, completely bewildered.\n\n\"Of course I knew. A man doesn't have is wife taken away coincidentally right after his debt and mortgage completely vanish.\"\n\nHe grew silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond. I continued to speak, \"Is Aaron coming with us too?\"\n\n\"No,\" he shot down quickly, \"I can't drag him into this either.\"\n\n\"That's fine, it's probably best this way. How long till we get there?\"\n\n\"In about... now!\"\n\nHe stopped in front of some warehouses with dark cars parked in front of it. With men wearing much darker suits standing outsides.\n\nI turned to my dad, his face pale. I turned to the men outside and gripped my gun.\n\n\"Dad,\" I said.\n\n\"Yeah,\" he managed to squeak.\n\n\"I just want you to know I'm not scared.\"\n\nHe nodded, \"I know, you love your mother too much for it.\"\n\nI rolled down my window. The screech of rubber on pavement almost overpowered the sounds of gunfire.", "There are moments in your life that are burned and singed into your memory. The bang and thud of the door being ripped off its hinges and hitting the floor was the second of my life. Only because I knew... I knew that they had taken her, and now they have come for me. \n\nI had a feeling that something was amiss. My wife never comes back late after book club. No. 3 hours late was way too long. Because of this fact, and our line of work, I already had my polished 500 in my lap before it happened. I also had it raised and cocked as they three stooges barreled into the house. The first was blown back from the slug in his chest into the fool behind him, crashing them both to the ground. This left the next conveniently open for a dome splitting blast right before I could finish off Moe underneath his buddy with a shot that also took off number two's previously functioning left ear. Three shots. Three guys. I've done better. \n\nAs I finished my coffee and fixed my tie I knew I had two things to do. The first was easy. \n\nThe drive was short but all my nerves were tingling. They eased a little bit as I pulled up to the high school. I knew my son would come out. He was as fucked up as they get nowadays. It was time for him to learn what we do and join me. \n\n\"What's the deal Dad?\" Corbin seethed at me.\nI flung the car into drive and threw my side arm into his lap. \n\n\"Shut up! Somethings happened. Your gonna have to grow up and drop your balls in the next 30 minutes\" \n\nI turned and stared at him. My snarle turning into a bold face glare. \"We're going to get your mother.\"\n", "When I was 16 my father pulled me out of school and shoved me in the car. His eyes didn't leave the road as he threw a gun in my lap and said, \"We're going to get your mother.\" If there was anything I had learned up until now it was that nothing perfect can come undone. I pulsed in my mind until the adrenaline stopped and I was waged with something that was as composite as the granite dust below the tire wheels. I became immersed in the drive ahead. Now was my time to shine. One of the last times to do so I had hoped. I looked at my father. A blank stare of capability, an endless need to do so, a hunger for whatever is in the fridge, the sweat of a man pushed into action and a thirst for vengeance.\n\nWithout my mom there would be hell to pay. Not to mention all the bills. Without mom, we wouldn't be able to sit down for a meal because no one would really know when to eat since we all eat like once or twice a day. Without mom, there is no constant comedic bickering between her and dad. The feeling of determination started to burst in my stomach and out through my ears. I opened my mouth and bellowed out the words jumping off the tip of my tongue. \n\nI asked my father simply, \"Who has her this time?\" In honest this has happened a few times but this will surely be the last.\n\n\"He answered without hesitation, she's at the white house.\" My heart dropped and my adrenaline left my body. I wasn't about to face a 6 star wanted level like on GTA. Fuck this I thought. \"And Donald Trump is there.\"\n\n\"Give me the sniper rifle and shotgun.\" I said to my dad and that's how you met your mother. Did you know you were born after that? interesting huh?\n\n\"Not really, I was hoping for a bedtime story. Not some short story reddit post. You suck at story telling Leon.\"\n\n\"Hey, if you went to bed I wouldn't be telling you any of this anyway you twerp. Now go to bed.\"\n\n\"Where are mom and dad anyway?\"\n\n\"Dad's probably out in the living room on reddit typing up writing prompts and moms in the bedroom sleeping. How should I know?\"\n\nEDIT: a few more lines of dialogue and such.", "Felix could only wonder why his teacher had pulled him aside. She explained his dad was there to pick him up early, which didn't make sense in the first place. Dad was on a business trip. He watched her suddenly flinch in anticipation as the classroom door was violently flung open.\n\n\"Felix, c'mon we gotta' go.\" Sam said as he quickly grabbed his arm. Felix tried to soak in what was going on. Blood dripped from a visible cut above his dad's left eye coating the green Acapulco shirt he wore. He had several bruises and scrapes on his arms, and he seemed rather frantic.\n\n\"What's going on?!\" Felix asked quickly. He didn't care that the entire class was staring at them; or that Mrs. Reynolds was dialing 911 on the phone nearby.\n\n\"Look, we've got to fucking go man!\" Sam pleaded, \"Things are screwed.\"\n\n\"Dad, stop!\" Felix said as he was yanked out of the room. Sam dragged him out of the building in record time. Felix didn't recognize the large, lifted truck they got in. Sam cranked the motor, put it in first and tore out of the lot. Dodging traffic at the lot entrance, they barreled clear over the lawn, taking down the shrubs next to the sidewalk, before bounding off the curb into the street.\n\n\"Dad what's wrong with you??\" Felix screamed in terror as he gripped the dashboard.\n\n\"They've got Mel!\" Sam explained as he swerved to avoid traffic, \"Fuck!! I should've been there, that's what I get for volunteering!\" \n\n\"Someone has mom?!\" Felix interrupted.\n\n\"Can you load a gun?\" Sam said as he hit the freeway and calmed down with his driving.\n\n\"Dad what's going on-\" Felix asked fearfully.\n\n\"We play first person shooters all the time together.\" Sam continued, \"So please, can you load a gun?\"\n\n\"I don't see how that makes sense-\" Felix began, before he noticed what his father had drug up from the backseat. His blood ran cold as the assault rifle nestled into his lap.\n\n\"The magazines are on the floor.\" Sam said as he quickly glanced over, \"I think there's a drum back there too.\" Sam glanced at Felix for shaky assurance.\n\n\"Dad where'd you get a AK from?\" Felix asked haphazardly as he began fumbling for the magazines on the floor, \"And who has mom? And who's truck is this?! What did you do?!\" As he fiddled with the magazines in the front now, he studied his dad's confused expression as he switched lanes.\n\n\"Um.... Where to start?\" Sam paused randomly, \"Well, that company I work for; Mati? They have some black market assets that need to be controlled internally, and I happen to be one of the top guys who do that. And the last deal fucked up really hard, and I've been battling my way across town because they have your mom and they tried to drop me off a parking garage this morning... It's been a rough day.\"\n\nFelix shuffled in place as he took it all in. Sam breathed before carrying on.\n\n\"And the business trip just meant I was across town all week. My bad Felix. Also, this truck was owned by some Serbian named Viktor who's dead as fuck right now, and that is a Zastava M92, a shortened AK copy, not an AK... But like I said today's been rather fucky.\"\n\nFelix had slid the drum into place on the gun, the heavy metal sliding home with a click. The whole thing was way heavier then he imagined, and he cringed at what it was meant for.\n\n\"So what's the plan?\" Felix said in worry as he tried to keep the gun below the windows.\n\n\"Kill all the muthafuckas between us and your mom, then disappear maybe?\" Sam tossed out a guess.\n\nHe watched as his dad chuckled randomly, a savage look creeping across his face for a moment. He'd never seen him like this; it was like meeting a whole new person before. Not the sane, clumsy, doting dad he'd known all his life, the change was freakish and haunting.\n\n\"Load this too.\" Sam said as he slid him a 9mm to reload.\n\n\"My dad is the Terminator...\" Felix cringed.\n\n\"Pfft, I wish I could be that tough.\" Sam admitted in slight jest.\n\nThey reached a empty concrete factory in one of the tougher areas of the city. Felix handed his dad the guns as they parked.\n\n\"Get in the driver's seat.\" Sam motioned as he racked the slide on the rifle and handgun.\n\n\"You're going in there?\" Felix wondered as he studied the desolate complex. It was way to quiet to be normal.\n\n\"Damn right.\" Sam nodded, before handing his phone to Felix, \"Call these three people here. You know those two actually. When they pick up, explain just what's going down, they'll back us up. If I'm hit, or I don't come back, take off. If I'm not out in ten minutes, drive this thing out of here and ditch it.\"\n\n\"I don't think I can do this dad?\" Felix admitted as he hyperventilated for a moment.\n\n\"You've got to.\" Sam explained, \"Now stay put, you're on lookout.\"\n\nHe watched Sam clamber through debris in front of a nearby doorway leading inside. He sat in place glancing around nervously at he clicked the stopwatch on his phone to start.\n\nIt was all he could do now.\n\nEDIT: I really like doing these crime/tension ones, because there's a lot of fun/serious/stupid possibilities you can mess around with in these prompts. Sorry if this is 15 hours too late, lol.", "Couldn't trim it down without cutting some development I really wanted to keep in it. Found something of a stopping point around here. Anyway, here's my take on it.\n\n\n\nThe car jostled in every direction as we peeled away from the school parking lot and onto a backroad leading towards interstate 19. The car bounced up and down from the pothole ridden pavement and jolted side to side on my father's command as we blew past another sedan in the passing lane. I stared down into my lap, not moving a muscle. \n\nIt had been less than a year since I held this gun, but it felt strange in my hands. The weight was the same, the size and shape was just as I had remembered it as well. It still felt out of place though. I hadn't held the gun anywhere outside of my father's firing range and the back corners of the basement where I had childishly played cop in the shadows. Playing make believe, just years before I would be considered a grown adult and productive member of society. I hadn't played make believe in awhile. Really it felt like another lifetime since I had. Maybe that was because I grew up more in this past year than I had in all my previous 15 combined. I had to grow up. My whole family had to grow up. Even my little sister Lucy. At least I had that blissful ignorance of a childhood that every kid deserves. She was robbed of it. I jolted forward in my seat and spun around. \n\"LUCY!\"\n\nLooking into the back seats, I took in a number of deep breaths after realizing they were all empty. I put my face down into the headrest of my seat trying to regain any measure of composure. A comfortable and reassuring hand placed itself on my shoulder. I turned to see my Dad's smiling face. He left his hand on my shoulder a little longer before lifting it up to tussle my hair roughly. \n\"Don't worry Tiger. Hey, you're not gonna' cry on me now are ya?\" \nI couldn't help it as a smile crept it's way onto my face. My father laughed and turned back toward the road.\n\"Now that's the boy I came to see.\"\nIt took me a moment to think of the last time I had heard him use those familiar words. It was a middle school baseball game. We were up a couple runs against the worst team in our division, so the coach gave me a chance to playing with the \"A\" team. After getting walked my first time at bat, a foul chip whizzed past the first basement and caught itself right in between my wrist and forearm. I fell to the ground screaming and the coach rushed to my side. Picking up the arm gingerly by my fingers and elbow, he told me what I already knew. I sat up and moved my arm in a bad way, sending a jolt of pain straight through my body. Rolling over I kicked the dirt trying to fight back tears. It was then that I had felt that familiar hand on my shoulder. \n\"Don't worry Tiger. Hey, you're not gonna' cry on me are ya'?\"\nMy father's smile dulled the pain then, just as it did now. I remember smiling back at him then, too.\n\"Now that's the boy I came to see.\"\nThe car nearly swerved off the road as I felt myself crashing back into reality.", "Third period. The intercom sounds in Algebra that I'm to head to the office. Surprised, I grab my stuff, nod \"goodbye\" to the class and get going to find my father, looking upset, in the office. All attempts to get an explaination are met with a finger to his lips.\n\"Come on,\" he says, leading me through the parking lot to his truck, \"dump your things in the back.\"\nAs I strap into shotgun, I peer at my father, steely-eyed and carrying an aura of ferocity - I decide to stay silent for now. We speed away onto the highway. His eyes didn't leave the road as he threw a gun in my lap and said, \"We're going to get your mother.\"\nSurprised and fiddling with the glock, a perplexed \"Wha-?\" escapes me.\nDad abruptly pulls the vehicle over, and he takes out an assault rifle from beneath his seat before he looks at me.\n\"She went 'on a drive.' It's been four hours. You know what that means.\"\nShit. I nod, and cock my gun.\n\"Not. This. Time,\" we state in unison, a two-man army.\nWe pull up to the Old Navy and don our balaclavas.\nAs we burst in through the door, bearing arms, and noisily make our way to the registers, customers and employees reacting in varying levels of fear and panic, I see my mother. She is pushing a shopping cart filled to the brim with a miasma of brightly colored khakis, chinos, polo shirts, and mens' shoes. We were almost too late.\nMy father, using his Batman voice, demands money from the register, as I make sure everyone else doesn't try to play a hero when I make them get onto the ground. After my father gets the money, we grab my mother's shopping cart, to her clear despair, and run out the store, and dump everything in the truck. We leave the garbage bag of cash in the parking lot as we take off, driving like we were in a Vin Diesel movie.\nRemoving our balaclavas, my father and I high-five each other after we throw the clothing off a bridge.\n\"My son, you are now a man,\" father says, proudly. \"I am proud of you.\"\n\"Thanks, papa. I'm just glad you got me when you did!\"\n\"I know, right, dude? We'd have to spend the entire weekend trying on clothes we'd never wear!\"", "I didn't sleep that night. My parents argument went round my head: they'd been married 20 years, and of course they had fought before, but nothing like this. They where so angry at each other. Their insults ricocheted of the walls, the echos reached my bedroom. They where arguing about one thing: him. \n\n\"He\" was my mothers boss- James Parsons. He'd been on the scene for almost two years, and recently he had grown extremely close with my mother. At sixteen, I had realized just how close they had become. My alcoholic father, on the other hand, was oblivious, or at least he was until that night. \n\nThe next day, I went to school as usual. I was exhausted, I couldn't wait for the day to end so I could get home, back to my bed, before the arguing started again when my mother got home from work. When the end-of-lunch bell rang, shortly after I had just walked in to Room 602 for my science class, Mr Lyle had called me up to his desk: \"your father is outside. He wants you to leave early this afternoon.\" I returned to my desk, and packed away my books. I walked down the unusually quiet locker filled hallway, and left the building. My father was waiting outside in his '98 Camaro. The moment I opened the door, I could smell the booze. His shirt was marked with blood stains, his hair was a mess, his forehead was covered in sweat.\n\n\"Get in.\" The engine started and off we went, speeding down Hartfield Lane and on to the highway.\n\"Dad, what the hell?\"\nSilence. We swerved between lanes, dangerously between cars.\n\"Dad, what have you done?\"\nSilence, apart from the sound of cars angrily honking at us. \n\"Dad?\"\nHe reached in to the glove compartment, and pulled out his revolver, throwing it on to my knees. \"We're going to get your mother- she's next.\"\n\n\n\nShort, but it's my first go at a WP- I'm actually nervous!!!", "\"Where's your bag?\"\n\nAlright, play it cool. Check the mirror, aaaaaand... Alright, he's still looking, back to looking forwards. \n\n\"I forgot it. You grabbed me pretty quick, how did you get into the corridors? How did you just walk in?\"\n\nJesus, why all the questions?\n\n\"God fucking.. Why are you so.. so... not here? I said one thing to you, Ryan, get your bag, get your goddamn bag, and you forget it? Just, just.. take this.\" \n\nDad hands me a gun. I think it's a Beretta, is it a Beretta? \n\n\"You know what that is, right?\" \n\nI have absolutely no idea what this is. \n\n\"Yup.\" \n\nPerfect. Good answer. \n\n\"You're sure?\" \n\nI couldn't be more unsure at this point. The how, the what, and the why completely evade me. \n\n\"You're wondering why I grabbed you like that, aren't you? It's your mom, Ryan, she's sick, she's real sick.. We're going to help her out, alright?\"\n\nI don't feel like I've got much of a choice in the matter. There's a gun in my lap, the child locks are on, I can't eve - wait, the child locks are still on? Why are the child locks still on? And what the hell does help her out mean? \n\nWe're pulling over, why are we pulling over, what's going on? \n\n\"Hand me the gun for a minute, Ryan, I'll show you what's going on.\" \n\nIs Dad going to waste me right here? \n\n\"Okay, all you need to know, this is the safety, this is the trigger, and this is the hammer. You pull the top back to cock it, flick the safety off, you see the dot? The dot means you're good to go, that's all you need to know right now..\"\n\nGreat, okay, I'm shooting now, this is good.. Wait, nope, still bad, still got a gun in my lap, still don't know where I'm going, I wish Dad would actua- \n\n\"RYAN! I need you to focus, right? I need you to listen very closely to what I'm going to say next...\" \n\nAlright, I'm listening..\n\n\"I found something on your Mom's computer, Ryan. It's not good. Really not good. There's no cure for this, and there's no turning back either, so our actions tonight have to be final, 100%, we have to commit to what we're about to enact.\" \n\nThe tops of my arms are now sweating, how is that happening? I want to look at the road, but I can't, I'm transfixed, I'm looking at Dad. The metal of this pistol is kinda cold. It feels good against my fingers. Almost comforting for whatever is about to come next.\n\n\"Ryan, your Mom.. She's..\" \n\nSAY IT\n\n\"She's..\" \n\nI CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE \n\n\"SHE'S WHAT, DAD?\"\n\n\"She's a furry, son..\" \n\nI'm sorry it had to be like this, Mom..\n\nclick click \n", "I understood immediately. \n\n“How did you find her?” I look over to him. \n\nDad’s mouth remained pursed in a thin line. His eyes locked, expression empty. \n \n“Where is she?” \n\nThis time he answered. “Industrial park warehouse off Branchville. Near the petrochem refineries.”\n\nI rubbed the pistol in my lap, its cylinder cool and smooth. “What are they doing at a warehouse, they smuggling something? You know how many will be there?”\n\n“No idea. Just got a tip that she’s there right now.” \n\nOn most days my dad would be considered a talkative person, but not today. He has always been taciturn when it came to mom.\n \nI sighed and glanced out the car window. Buildings and pedestrians gradually gave way to lakes and trees. Is this finally the day we get to mom? Past memories circled my mind like fish in a tank. I tried to block them out but it's impossible to refuse thoughts that have already breached into consciousness. My mother’s radiant smile as she hugged me close to her bosom. My father’s ashen face as he whispered, “she’s gone.” I sighed again and began twirling the weapon in my palm. My eyes closed. I will definitely get her this time. The gun felt slipperier than usual. I glanced down and saw that it was coated with sweat.\n \nBy the time our sedan entered the industrial park, the sun had just descended. We parked away from the actual warehouse, which already hosted two 12-wheelers on its lot. The cartel obviously planned to load up them with some kind of lucrative loot inside. \n\n\"We're splitting up right?\" I asked my father when we exited the car and scurried toward our destination. Faint shouts arise from inside the warehouse as we neared: \"Vamos! Vamos buscar!\" But no one posted guard outside.\n\n\"Yeah, there are two floors. I'll enter first and climb to the second floor. You wait a few minutes and make sure everything is clear outside. Then go survey the ground floor. If you hear gunshots at any time, come up.\"\n\nI nodded. We were now crouched directly next to the double door entrance, both armed with a single pistol. I was taught years ago - after one acquires precise aim, the least cumbersome weapon is the most practical.\n\nDad turned and rested his hands on my shoulders. \"Remember - if you see her, get her.\" And then he slipped through the dim entrance and was gone.\n\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI will update with more if you guys want. Wanted to post this first bit up here early.\n", "\"We're going to get your mother.\" The words echoed in my head as I turned the MP5 over in my hands. What happened to her? She had been fine when I'd left this morning. We'd only been in this city for a week. They never catch up this quickly. But... if he's here, then something's really gone wrong.\n\n\"Where is she?\" I managed to gulp out, once I finally looked over at the man behind the wheel.\n\n\"On the move. We're meeting up at your contingency location. She said to expect heavy pursuit, so I hope you've trained with one of those before.\"\n\nI nodded. \"Yeah. But... are you sure this'll be enough? If you're here...\"\n\n\"Yeah, it's that bad,\" he replied. He turned his head, briefly, looking into the back seat. \"All set up back there?\"\n\n\"I will be in a moment,\" Cameron's voice called back from the SUV's trunk. A few harsh, metallic clicks followed.\n\n\"Don't worry. I came prepared.\"\n\nAs soon as the words left his mouth, a crack appeared on the windshield. \n\n\"Shit!\" I jumped on instinct, ducking my head down. And then another crack appeared, right where my head had been. And another. And another. In front of them, a man in a suit was leaning out the passenger door of a red minivan, firing a pistol.\n\n\"The window's bulletproof, but it's not gonna hold up!\" my father yelled. He shoved my shoulder, while the passenger window starter rolling down. \"Shoot back!\"\n\nI nodded, and thumbed off my gun's safety. I leaned out the window, just a few inches, and fired a quick burst. My shots went wide, a few hitting the vehicle, and others missing entirely. One of the man's bullets came so close I could feel the air it displaced, but my next burst caught him in the neck and shoulder. His gun fell from his hand, and he slumped over, body hanging halfway out the window.\n\nBefore I could do anything else, the entire care shook violently, while the massive, chainsaw-like sound of a minigun tore open my ears. I looked back to see Cameron firing out where the back window used to be, and the car behind us exploding in a burst of brilliant flame. She dispatched one more vehicle just as effortlessly, then powered down the mounted gun. \"Targets neutralized.\"\n\nA minute later, we pulled into the driveway of an old, run-down airstrip. My mom's car was already parked in front of the hanger. \"Run to the hanger,\" my father said. \"Help your mom get the plane ready. We'll set up out here.\"\n\nI grabbed the gun, nodded, and ran to the hanger. On the way, my mother stepped out of her car, brandishing a heavy shotgun. \"More'll be here any minute. Help me load the plane.\"\n\nMy mom's always been cool under pressure. At least, she has been ever since LA, and she certainly is now. With the trunk open, carrying our bare minimum of supplies into the prop plane's storage compartments was a simple task. It took more effort than I though I could manage to focus on that, instead of Cameron's gun, no doubt cutting another car in half.\n\nAs soon as the last crate was in, the gunfire stopped, interrupted by a sharp, metallic wrenching. My father came running into the hanger, his shirt torn and bloodied, no magazine in his M4. \"Get in! It's here!\"\n\n\"Where's Cameron?\" I shouted back. I grabbed my gun, and ran to the open hanger door. Out in the parking lot, I saw her. Her minigun torn to shreds, and the man who did it- the man who's been hounding us since I was thirteen- with his hand around her throat. She raised a fist, and swung it at his head. The blow struck hard, tearing open his skin... and revealing a bright, metallic skull beneath.\n\nThe terminator had found us again.", "\"We're going to get your mother.\"\n\n\nTaken aback by everything, I simply nodded my head. I was sixteen and prepared for this moment. I quickly opened the door and dove out of the moving vehicle. \n\n\nThat's what I would have done if I had unlocked the door first, but a firm fist held me down. I don't recall the exact words that he yelled at my bare pasty white fear filled face, but I remember the word \"pussyfooting\" and \"coward.\" By the time I had another chance and unlocked the door, we were swinging on the highway. I fingered the gun in my lap, thinking of other devious yet meaningless ways to exit the car.\n\n\nI decided that the car losing sudden control due to an excess of blood, shortage of brain would be more painful than not, so I hid that scenario in the back of my mind and thought about my mother.\n\n\nI never knew my mother.\n\n\n\"That's the place.\" He didn't have to point it out. It was a gray building, topped off with a faux Victorian styled roof, separated to humanity by a fifteen foot guarded fence. Electric, probably. In the middle of no where, in a car that I had no business being in, with a gun in the middle of my lap, I was sure in for a doozy.\n\n\nWe were just outside the city, when I had the bright idea to ask where we were.\n\n\n\"Gotham Asylum.\"", "\"But Dad, she's still in prison!\" I said.\n\n\"I know,\" said Dad, \"We're busting her out!\" \n\nYou might think this is the start of an epic tale where a completely ordinary child is dragged off onto a life on the run from the law, living in cheap hotels and eeking out a meager living on the streets, but when you're the son of two super villains, this was a Tuesday for me. Honestly, I'm surprised it took my Dad this long to get around to this, I think he's kind of slipping a little. He waited until mom was sent outside for the first time to work on a chain gang so dad could whip up a quick smash and grab plan to get her out of there. \n\nI checked the gun and looked into the backseat to seat to see at least dad remembered to bring our costumes. The \"car\" was only a car in the visual sense. It had four wheels and they were round. It was really a souped up armored vehicle you could use to rob a bank without having to stop and get out. Dad quickly smashed through the prison bus and ran down two guards and nearly took out the whole chain gang. My mom, Molly McMaul, busted the chains with her bare hands and knocked out two guards with her fists before jumping into the moving car as I held the passenger door open. \n\n\"What the hell took you so long?\" my mom blurted. \n\nShe didn't hit dad, Dad was a little busy driving and shooting at the same time, so I handed mom the gun Dad gave to me so mom could take her frustrations out on the guards. She shot two prisoners. They must have owed her money or something, don't mess with mom! As we peeled away my parents fell into their usual bickering as my mom struggled into her villain outfit. I don't know why she bothered wearing a mask, she was such a hulking giant of a woman a bear outfit would not be much of a disguise for someone built like her. However, I had to go back to school tomorrow without the FBI busting in on Mrs. Crabapple's class so the effort had to be made. \n\nWithin an hour we were home, secret identities intact, and I had to mentally switch gears from prison breaking to quadratic equations. Honestly, I'd rather be trying to overthrow a small South American government singlehandedly than do math homework. \n", "I thought it was my dad at the time but now I realize how silly I had been. Of course I hadn't seen my father since I was born. Foresight makes this obvious, yet to a 12 year old me I was over joyed when my father had come to rejoin our family.\n\nAfter 10 minutes of silence and pure childlike wonder, a gun was dropped into my lap... \n\n\"We're going to get your mother John Conner.\"", "A FAMILY AFFAIR\n\nIt was about 10 o’clock, I had been in class for the better part of the morning. I sat somewhere in the middle of the class, because the cool kids sat in the back and the keeners up front. I was new so I just tried, like always, to just blend in. I didn’t have many friends, there isn’t much chance of that when you change schools every couple years, and this year was no different. I sat there in advanced calculus, with my head starting to droop and my eyes feeling heavy. The teacher’s lecture was pretty much in one ear and out the other, with my attention on the cute brown haired girl in the front row. If I had been paying attention, I might have heard the noise on the PA system, which had asked me to pack my things and head down to the office.\n\n“JOSHUA!”\n\n“Yes Miss?”\nI perked up, now able to focus on all the surroundings.\n\n“Did you hear that? Get your things and head down to the office.”\n\nI grabbed my bag, stuffed my books in it, grabbed my jacket and left. I could hear the typical “ooohs” and whispers from my classmates as I headed out, but I never looked back.\n\nAs I approached the office, I saw a man standing with his back turned away from the door. He must’ve heard my footsteps coming because he spun around when I got closer. The office attendant saw me as well and gave me a concerned look, saying “I’m sorry to hear, hun. Give my condolences to your family.”\n\n“Hey kiddo, c’mon, let’s go.”\n\nI didn’t even need to say anything as we walked out, my father lead the way without saying anything else. I didn’t know what else to do other than follow him. His car, a black muscle car that was kinda beat up, was parked out front, and upon seeing it, he told me to get in as he opened the passenger door.\n\n“What are you doing here?”\n\n“Just get in! You’ll find out soon enough!”\nHis arm pushing my head down just under the roof. I felt the door shut behind me, and saw him go around and get in the driver side.\n\nWe sat there quiet as he drove. \n\nI had so many questions, I hadn’t seen this man in ten years. He was gone often, but he always came back home. Then one day, mom decided to leave while he was gone, we just packed up and never came back. I never understood why. I didn’t know what to say, I had so many questions.\n\n“Dad…”\n\nHe said nothing. He looked different to me. It was the same face, just a little older. He was dressed weird too, like Neo from The Matrix. His long black coat, sunglasses, gloves, shoes. I mean, it was kinda cold out but it was just strange.\n\nBefore I could get another word in, he stopped me. He reached over, opening the glove box and pulled out a gun and threw it on my lap. It was a revolver and it was heavier than I had thought I gun would be. I had only ever seen one on TV or in the movies, or on my video games, but never held one. It was heavy, and cold too.\n\n“We’re going to get your mother.”\n\nHe didn’t say anything else the rest of the way, and I wasn’t sure he’d answer if I asked anything so I just stayed quiet the remainder of the drive.\n\nHe knew where he was going, not once having to ask where to turn or which way. We ended up right outside my house, car parked on the curb, the driveway already had our car in it. He grabbed the revolver from me and got out the car, pointing to me to open the door.\n\nAs I unlocked the door and walked in the house, there were voices coming from the kitchen.\n\n“Josh? Is that you?”\nI could hear Dean’s voice calling out to me. Dean was my stepdad, he was someone I didn’t care much for but he didn’t bother me either.\n\nWhat are you doing home?\nMom’s voice followed shortly after.\n\nI walked into the kitchen, seeing Dean typing at the table on his laptop. He worked from home. Mom was cooking something on the stove, her back towards me. I stopped in front of the doorway, Dean noticing me from his chair.\n\nMom still focused on the food while trying to ask why I was home so early. That is, until a voice called out to her.\n\n“Sarah.”\n\nShe stopped. And paused.\n\nShe turned slowly, and saw me standing in the hallway. She saw behind me where the voice came. Dad walked up behind me from the shadow.\n\n“Sarah” he called out again.\n\n“What are you doing here John?”\nMom’s voice trembled, her face grew pale.\n\nDean stood up from his seat, his chair screeching as it pulled back from the table. Dad raised his hand, holding a pistol up towards them, it was different than the one in the car.\n\n“Now now, let’s not do anything hasty. It’s just a bit of reunion we’re having. Let’s all just have a seat and talk things through, okay?”\n\nNo one said a thing.\n\n“OKAY!?”\n\nDad directed us to the table that Dean had just gotten up from. We sat down, and he followed suit, laying the gun down on the table as well, as a gesture of “good will”.\n\n“I just want to talk Sarah.”\n\nThe four of us sat at that table without saying a word for what must have been five minutes. The smell of pancakes was filling the room, the low heat sizzling the pan that sat on top. Dad played with the gun, spinning it on the table as he tried to collect his thoughts. I was scared, mom was scared, Dean, I bet he was scared.\n\n“Why Sarah. Why did you leave?”\n\nDad let go of the gun, allowing it to spin on it’s own carried by the momentum. He reached in his coat pulling out a cigarette box. I watched as the gun rotated. Mom looked towards my dad, towards the man she only knew as John. She watched as he took out a lighter and lit the stick that sat on his bottom lip. His eyes stared right back at her. There was no love there, just hate. Hate towards each other. Tears ran down her cheeks and her voice trembled.\n\n“I had to. You were too deep in your ‘work’. You couldn’t protect us. We weren’t safe. I did it for Joshua.”\n\nThe moment John lit his cigarette, the gun stopped spinning, handle towards Dean, and the barrel towards my father. Dean reached out for it. I flinched, along with my mother. John didn’t move, just puffed that cigarette. He threw the box of cigarettes on the table towards my mother, as if enticing her.\n\n“You left me for this fucking idiot? You think he can protect you?”\n\nDean held the gun at my father, his hand shaking out of what must have been a mix of emotion. “Fuck you asshole”\n\nJohn leaned forward, reaching for his revolver he had kept tucked behind himself. Dean saw this and pulled the trigger on the pistol he held. His eyes closed while doing so. There was nothing. No kickback, no blood, no gunfire. Dean pulled again, and again the only sound that the gun produced was an empty one. \n\nClick. Click. Click.\n\nA look of dread came over Dean’s face as John stood to greet him with the the barrel of his revolver pointed at him.\n\n“I think this is the sound you’re looking for.”\n\nThe thunderous ‘boom’ filled the kitchen and reverberated throughout the house. Mom screamed in horror as Dean was thrown back, his chair collapsing beneath him. Blood stained the wall behind him. It smelled like smoke of the burning food in that kitchen. Dad moved around the table to find Dean struggling to drag his body back and prop himself against the wall, while mom fell to his side. Her hands were covered in the blood pouring out of the hole in his stomach.\n\n“FUCK YOU YOU MONSTER!!!!”\nMom was hysterical, crying and screaming at the same time. \n“What the fuck do you want!?!?”\n\n“To take the things you love from you”\n\nJohn turned to me, with my mother noticing.\n\n“NO!!! Don’t you dare John!!!!! Don’t you fucking dare!!! You take me instead, you hear me!!!”\nShe reached for the gun in his hand but he pushed her back to the floor.\n\n“You think i would harm our son!? You think I would do that!?”\n\nHe raised his gun back up to mom; she began weeping as he did. John looked back at me as he did.\n\n“STOP!!!!”\nBANG. \n\nI heard it again.\n\nBANG\n\nAnd again, until I didn’t hear it anymore.\n\nBANG. BANG. BANG.\n\nMy eyes shut with each shot fired, I was afraid to open them. \n\nThe silence, I wanted to cry.\n\nThen I heard her. I heard mom cry, as if feigning to the circumstances. I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw her okay. When I opened my eyes and saw all six bullets fired into my stepfather.\n\n“You need to come with me now.”\n\nMy father’s hand rested on my shoulder.\n\n“There’s nothing for you here.”\n\n“No” I responded flatly. How could I just leave my mother now? All the emotion I had was bottled up and was storming deep in me.\n\n“You either come with me, or you stay. And you know what the police will find? Your stepfather, dead. And the only fingerprints on the revolver used to kill him are yours…\n\nYour choice”", "\"Does that mean you believe me,\" I asked, out loud, though I'd been wondering ever since I'd told him what I'd seen a week ago.\n\nHis eyes shifted to me, almost imperceptibly, but I could see the corner of his mouth quivering in profile. There was sweat on his brow. His skin was flushed and waxy. He didn't have to confirm. He did anyway.\n\n\"Susan is different. I don't even know where she is right now.\"\n\nMy younger sister. She'd been mom's favorite target from the very start. Two years younger than me, but at least ten years smarter when it came to school. Mom had always doted on her, as if grooming her for something.\n\n\"I had to.. I tried to end it when I realised. Chris, you have to understand--\"\n\n\"Just drive. We'll work out the details when it's done.\"\n\nI shoved the gun into the waist of my jeans, not entirely sure how to use it but determined to make every attempt count. \n\n******\n\nThe house was quiet. The front door was open and just beyond the mat where we'd always wiped the mud off of our shoes I could see something wet and chunky. Dad pushed the door open further, leading with the shotgun he'd got out of the boot. I followed closely, but far enough to let him maneuver. I was trusting his movements as we slid into the house, trying to be quiet. I would have been scared enough if Mom had been our only issue but with Susan on the loose, we were at the very least evenly matched. \n\nHe took a step into the hallway that led to the stairs and a board creaked almost urgently. I froze. Dad crouched and put the double barrels up. We held our breath and waited for the fallout. \n\nWhen it didn't come we locked eyes and continued. He motioned with a free hand for me to get low. I did, now fully aware of just how unprepared for any of this I was. That's when we heard it. Almost like a rattlesnake. The ceiling shook slightly. One or both of them were upstairs. And then a thud. Dad pointed to his gun and then to his leg and I understood. Susan was wounded. She might not even be able to maintain a form.\n\nWe crept up the stairs, holding onto the banister and making sure to step lightly. My gun felt heavy in my waistband. I was anxious about having to actually handle it. I'd never shot a gun before. Dad had at least been hunting. He got to the top of the stairs and held his hand up. I stopped and waited. He pointed at Susan's bedroom. I knew what we were about to do. Inhaling deeply, I reached for my gun but he shook his head. I nodded, maybe prematurely, but I didn't want to kill Susan. I hadn't seen her change. She was my little sister. Mom was something else, something foreign. I'd already grieved for her. I think he knew that seeing Susan that way would have killed me. Still, I was frustrated at my father. Did he know how strong these things were?\n\nHe moved forward. I crouched on the third to to riser, and slowly my teenage brain took over. Didn't he believe I could help? Did he really believe me? I listened to the quiet for his steps as he disappeared into Susan's room. Silence. Creak. Creak. \n\nAnd then a hiss, like in the movies, and a rattle. He'd found her. But it did only sound like one. Mom must not be here. I could hear the struggle, muffled only just barely by the walls. Hisses interspersed with daddy no, please* and then two shots. Bang. Silence. Bang. Silence.\n\nI waited, my heart pounding, my brain refusing to take stock. One of the things was dead, I told myself as I sat on the stairs. I could almost breathe. I sat there, for minutes, gathering myself until I realised my father had not come back yet. I had unconsciously grabbed my gun. My body had already figured it out. \n\nI snuck up the last steps and up to Susan's door. It was half shut. A scaled tail lay limp just beyond. There was blood on her bed. Following dad's lead, I inched the door open with the short barrel of my gun. I could see long hair in a tangle on the carpet. It was matted with blood. \n\nI didn't see the tail move. Susan was dead. The real Susan. It was bigger and darker than my mother. He'd lied to me. I could feel warm breath on my neck. My father's scales created a symphony in front of me and my mother's shook to match. They were celebrating their harvest. \n\nAs her fangs sunk into my neck, I felt my father's ripping into my jeans. I put the gun in my mouth and fired.\n\nClick.", "He had pulled me out of school after lunch and made a scene in the hallway yelling at the principal, \"This is my son and I'll take him out of school if I want to!\" \n\nHe smelled like the bar again. He always smelled like the bar these days and he was always yelling at everyone, like the whole world was against him. I didn't really understand his anger, but it started after mom left. She blamed him for their marriage and blamed him for her not loving him anymore. He got even angrier when she had found someone new and angrier again when they married in a few months.\n\nI followed him to the car after we left the school and got in with him. Once we got in the car he threw a gun on my lap and said, \"We're going to get your mother.\"\n\nSurprised and a bit confused I replied, \"But dad she's-\"\n\n\"I don't want to hear it. I said we we're going to get her and I don't want any goddamn complaints.\" he said not even looking in my direction.\n\nI sat there in silence after that. The angrier he got the more I learned to be quiet. I mostly stayed quiet around him out of fear. Fear that he would also leave me and fear of what he would do if I didn't stay silent.\n\nHe started driving away from the school and I had wanted to say something to him, but he seemed like he would just shout at me if I said something. He stared at the road hardly even noticing I was there and breathing heavily like he was about to fight someone and I didn't want it to be me.\n\nI ended up turning to look out the window and look at the sky. I ignored where he was driving because it wasn't the first time he had pulled me out of school with some crazy idea. It was an overcast day, dark and low clouds over head, and humid enough for your clothes to stick to you.\n\nAfter about 15 minutes the car came to a stopped and I knew where we were. I looked over and saw the headstone \"Jane Winsley 1975-2016\". My father grabbed the gun and got out of the car and head over to the headstone.\n\n\"Hey! What are you doing?!\" I yelled as I got out of the car and headed toward him and try to stop him. \n\nHe shoved me out of the way and knelt down in front of the headstone and put the gun under his chin. \"We're going to get back at her! Get back at her for leaving us!\", He yelled.\n\nI stared at him kneeling there and didn't know what to do or what to say to stop him. I was frozen in panic and looked him in the eyes and saw the madness of everything that had happened to him in the past year. To us.\n\nI took a step towards him to get the gun and then I heard the \"Click.\" He forgot to load it.\n\nHe dropped the gun and I watch him as the tears started down his face. \"Why did she have to leave us?\" He sobbed.\n\nI couldn't answer him because there was no answer. I just listen to the sounds of him sobbing and pounding the ground in anger.\n\nI looked up towards the sky at those heavy dark clouds and then it started to rain. \n", "It was a semi-normal day. Math class first period, History second, Gym third, then Mechanics last. It felt good knowing that summer had finally come and that school was almost over. The thought had eased my mind and I was beginning to relax, but I was sorely mistaken. The intercom boomed over my history teacher in the middle of his lecture about global economics. \n\n\"Michael Soner to the main office please, Michael Soner.\"\nShocked, I awoke from my power-nap (History Sucks). Grabbing my books I meandered to my locker and packed my bag. On my walk to the office, I saw my father waiting outside. He seemed anxious, but somewhat frustrated. I hurried over to him and asked him what was wrong, I had never seen him like this before. He was always the no emotion, must always be strong, don't focus on the past type of person.\n\n\"Dad, what's up?\"\nWithout warning, he grabbed me by the top of my backpack and started pulling me to the car.\n\"Dad?\" \nHe didn't respond and shoved me into the passenger seat of his Ford Mustang.\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"Michael...,\" He said for the first time since we left the school and began to head out of town.\n\"We're going to get your mother.\" He added while simultaneously tossing a gun into my lap.\n\nThe 9mm felt heavy and cold on my thighs. A feeling of anxiety and fear washed over me as well. I've never held a gun before, let alone even see one in real life.\n\"What the hell is happening,\" I asked my Dad who has been swerving between the cars on the highway. \n\"Your mother has been taken by some bad people. People who have no morals or remorse for any of their actions.\" He said with a hint of anger in his voice. \n\"Who would want Mom? She is just a hairstylist at Quick Cuts. I don't even think she talks to anybody except you and her family.\"\n\"They want Mom because of me,\" He said while speeding up to 120 Kmph. \n\"You? You are just a construction worker though. Did you misplace a steel beam or something?\"\n\"Mike..., before you were born, I had a bit of a drug issue. I would be buying close to $200 of weed a week. At the beginning, I would pay for it from my job's pay, but eventually it just wouldn't cut it. So I made a deal. I would do favours for the dealers. Threatening, interrogating, and sometimes attacking those who stole from my dealer.\"\n\"How do you know that they have Mom,\" I inquired.\n\"Well, yesterday I got a phone call from them saying that they need another favour. I refused. They took Mom earlier today while we were out. Now we have to get her back.\"\n\"Well then. Where are we going to go?\" A mixed feeling of curiosity and fear filled me.\n\"The airport.\" He replied with a determined look on his face. He seemed much different from earlier when he picked me up.", "Pat Two. \n\nAs I nodded to my father, my fingers wrapped around the handle of the passenger door of our family's SUV. Before giving the handle one solid jerk, I watched my father slide himself from the driver's seat and out into the middle of the intersection. With the same intensity as before, his eyes darted back and forth, as if surveying his surroundings. Finally, he motioned for me to exit the car. My heart still pounding in my chest, I followed his lead, one hand still firmly clasped around the gun. \n\nWhen I was very young, I used to stare at my father's every move; whether he was adjusting his tie before heading to work or reading the paper, I always sat there, staring. Not like today. Today, I watched his every move. I loved and trusted my father with all my heart, but he seemed so different from the man I thought I had all figured out. \n\nSlowly, one foot after the other, I exited the passenger seat and made my way around to the front of the car to see him sprint into action. He ran over to the car that had hit us; his feet splashing in the puddles that began to form from the rain. It wasn't till that moment did I hear her screams. \n\n\"Nathan!,\" my father screamed, \"Get over here!\" \n\nShaking away the accident, I dropped the gun to my side and sprinted over to my father who began pulling a young woman from the wreckage. Wrapping his arms around her, his body collapsed to the street as she collapsed into him. \n\n\"Remove your belt and help me put pressure on her leg,\" ordered my father. \n\nWithout hesitation, I unbuckled my worn leather belt and dropped to my knees to assist him. Giving him a quick nod, I stretched out my hands, waiting for his next order. \n\n\"Now wrap it around her leg there and pull as tight as you can,\" he ordered. I nodded again as I wrapped my belt around her leg and pulled. As the belt snapped tight she gave out a scream. \n\n\"Very good son,\" my father said calmly, \"very good.\" \n\nTime seemed to stand still as my father and I knelt around this young woman. Her screams had quieted to a muffled cry. I looked over at my father who sat there, stroking her hand in comfort. After what felt like a lifetime, in one fell swoop, he grabbed my hand and placed it on top of hers before standing up. \n\nConfused and scared all at the same time, I asked, \"where are you going?\"\n\n\"I need to make a call,\" my father replied. \n\nAs I held her hand, the young woman shivered. I couldn't decide whether she was shivering from the cold or from shock, but I had convinced myself that if I held her hand, all would be OK. \n\nSeconds later, my father came back and knelt beside us. For a few seconds he didn't say anything. He sat there, looking down at the young woman as her body trembled in the rain. Finally, he looked up at me. \n\n\"We have to go,\" he said softly. \"We have to leave her.\"\n\n\"What?\" I asked. \"How could we leave her? Look at her!\"\n\n\"I know Nathan,\" he said calmly. \"But we have to go now. Help is on its way.\"\n\nI couldn't believe him. How could my loving father leave someone in need? How could he so coldly make such a harsh decision? \n\n\"Nathan,\" my father said. \"Look at me. We need to go get your mother. I've called for help and its on its way. Do you understand me?\"\n\nFor the first time that day, I stared back at my father, questioning his judgement. My hand was still clasped tightly around the young woman's hand. I nodded to my father. It was time go. \n\n\"Do you still have that gun I gave you?\" asked my father. \n\nI gave another quick nod as the sound of sirens could be heard off in the distance. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "... I rolled my eyes. This was the third time this semester. Any more of this and the school was going to start asking questions. The old pickup spun around and jolted forward with powerful ferocity, bolting out of the parking lot and swerving into the main road. Dad started psyching himself up as we picked up speed. He fell into a familiar pattern, breathing deep and twiddling his fingers on the wheel, some kind of nervous tick for him. After all of this time, I didn't know if he was actually still nervous or if it was more of a superstitious ritual, but he had done it every time without fail so far. I took a closer look at the gun he had thrown at me me and held it up to my eye level. It was sleek black Glock 22. It was heftier than I had anticipated; I wasn't used to shooting a .40 cal.\n\n\"Upping the ante this time, I see. What are you packing?\" He gave me a quick, breathy chuckle and a manic grin. I slumped back in the passenger seat and drew out a long sigh. I knew that look.\n\n\"Today's the day, Wayne,\" he exclaimed, \"Today, is, the, day!\" His grin had evolved into a full toothy smile. It was always so hard to see him like this, but there was no stopping him from my end. \n\n\"Uh-huh. Where are we headed?\"\n\n\"Carmichael Art Museum downtown. They're holding some sort of snooty bigwig fundraiser party.\"\n\n\"Sounds like something she'd like.\"\n\n\"Today's the day!\" His smile held for a second longer before his face dropped back into an expression of unshakeably determined concentration. I opted to abstain from further conversation for the remainder of the trip.\n\nAs we pulled around the block to the art museum, we were greeted with rows and rows of police cruisers parked around the entrance. At the very least, that meant that we were on the right track. It was a giant building, adorned with intricate emulations of classical architecture covering the entire front face. Dozens of uniforms were standing around facing the solid brass doors with their pistols drawn. One of the fat ones had a megaphone and was blathering something about meeting demands and negotiating for hostages. Dad and I gave each other a knowing glance, the fat cop was wasting his time. We both knew how she worked, she had already made her statement and was probably already on her way out with more than a few pieces of fancy jewelry and wallets. \n\nDad pulled out a napkin with a crude map scrawled on it with blue pen. He pulled the car around to an alley several blocks down to the East of the museum. The cops had the building surrounded so the only logical exits were up or down, but we were pretty sure that the helicopter wasn't part of the plan this time. Without a word to each other we jumped out of the car and ran straight for the nearest manhole. With a little shove, the cover slipped right off and we descended into the dank depths of the city's labyrinthine sewer system. On the way down I caught a glimpse of his new arsenal. From what I could tell it consisted of several homemade smoke grenades, a crossbow, and some sort of modified rifle. If I didn't know any better I would have thought he was hunting Velociraptors.\n\nWe sprinted down a length of the murky corridor, following the napkin map to a T. I followed my father blindly, having faith in his meticulous preparations and obsessive methodology. He was good at this. After a few minutes of running he stopped us at an intersection, pressing up against the wall and slowing his breath. We could hear the faint rhythm of running footsteps getting louder from one of the tunnels. It was her. Dad brandished his rifle and rushed out into the middle of the cross, facing her.\n\n\"CHARLOTTE!\" He yelled down to her. The rifle started glowing, crackling with electricity. \"You're coming home!\"\n\nI saw her slow down to a stop, breathing heavily, unfazed by the spectacle of a middle-aged college professor with an electro-rifle holding her at gunpoint in a sewer. She was dressed in her professional gear: black leather jacket and gloves with red jeans, her shoulder length hair in a neat little auburn ponytail.\n\n\"Oh Howard,\" she sighed, \"I was hoping to outrun you this time.\" She gave him a soft smile, an expression of loving sympathy. It conveyed a subtle joy, being able to see him, but also some concern. I knew how she felt, to a certain extent. I stepped out from around the corner and assumed a shooting stance, holding the Glock up threateningly toward her.\n\n\"Hi, Mom,\" I chimed in.\n\n\"Wayne!\" Her face lit up. I smiled back, it was always good to catch up with her a little bit, even in situations like this.\n\n\"Charlotte,\" Dad repeated, his voice was a low monotone, \"You are coming home.\" Mom's face reassumed her previous expression, only this time more somber. He pulled the trigger, summoning a brilliant flash of energy out of the muzzle of the rifle. In a single deft movement Mom dived under the trajectory of the bolt and rolled up to where Dad was standing. She knocked him out with one well placed hit right on his left temple. He collapsed, face first on the cobblestone, as if he'd fallen asleep standing up. \n\n\"I really wish I could, Howard,\" she said to him softly. I lowered my gun as she turned to me, ready to pounce. \"You weren't going to shoot me, were you?\" I raised my hands up over my shoulders in surrender.\n\n\"Chamber was empty the whole time.\"\n\n\"Good boy, I love you, and don't miss too much school.\"\n\n\"Love you too, I won't.\" \n\nShe scampered off into the darkness, probably toward the next political protest and high pressure heist hybrid caper she had her eyes on next. Dad stirred from his brief slumber, groaning from the splitting headache he had been gifted.\n\n\"Don't worry Dad, we'll get her next time.\"\n\n", "On my 16th birthday, dad surprised me by pulling me out of gym class halfway through the day. He didn't explain why he was there--not in the hallway, not in the parking lot. He waited until we were on the highway, pushing 90 MPH. And our luck.\n\n\"Dad?\" I tried, finally. Halfway to SJC. Without taking his eyes off the road, he casually reached into his jacket and pulled out a handgun, which he threw in my lap before hopping in and out of the HOV lane.\n\n\"We're going to get your mother,\" he said. \"Before she gets us.\"\n\n\"About time,\" I replied. \n\nI didn't bother to check if it was loaded.\n\nDad never forgot that sort of thing.", "I knew that this day would've come. My dad threw me into the backseat.\n\n\"Fasten your seatbelt son, we're going to get your mom!\" he said with a strong voice.\n\nHe threw a gun in my lap. I picked it up and realised that my Counterstrike skills would finally come to use.\n\n\"I'm ready father, I've been waiting for this moment my whole life. Years of playing COD and Counterstrike have made me into a killing monster and today i'm going to aid you in this mission to rescue mother from evil\" I said manly.\n\nI picked up the gun. It's a glock 17. I checked the mag, I have one hundred bullets.\n\n\"This is the place\" He said pointing his finger to a 50 stories tall building \"mother is trapped on the highest floor so we have to go through and kill everyone on every floor\"\n\n\"Alright, let's go\" I said\n\nI've never ever used a gun but to my suprise, I delivered several headshots, I even got the ace. Some of the opponents called me hacker. Oh well, we kept going until we reached the last floor. The boss.\n\n\"Okey, inside of this room there are 7 bad guys\" my father started\n\n\"Wait, how do you know?\" I asked cutting him off\n\n\"I don't know, I guessed.\" he said\n\n\"You have to listen to the footsteps dad\"\n\nHe didn't answer but went straight for the door. He kicked it in, burying two guys in a 3 inch wide metal door. I decided that quickscoping is the best possible way to kil efficiently. I killed 3 guys. The last one held a knife, threatening to kill my mother. I've seen a lot of movies to know where this is going. I have to surrender but no. I'm going all in. I shot but unfortunately hit my mother, the second shot though hit him right in the face. \n\nLater that day we called for an ambulance, my mother turned out fine, even with a gun wound to the chest. I went back home to my gaming chair and opened counterstrike. I looked at my rank, Global Elite.\n", "You could hear a pin drop. I wished one would, if only to break the silence.\n\n\"Well... that's all well and good...\" my teacher, Mrs. Fanshawe, began to say, \"but Jeffrey has a test at exactly two pee...\"\n\n\"Fuck the test. I said I need him.\" My father was not one to mince words.\n\nHe looked directly at me.\n\n\"Let's go.\" \n\nThere was no room for argument.\n\nI could feel the hot stares from the other kids in the class burning my back as I walked out. I had to take the middle row. As I passed, some kids had wide grins, some had looks of pure sinister delight (nobody had said the F word in class since Jimmy Carpin had been sent home that one day), but most were still trying to scrape their jaws off the floor. I couldn't let their seething eyes slow me down, though, Dad was in full no-nonsense mode. Something bad had happened.\n\nAs soon as the classroom door and Mrs. Fanshawe's disapproving scowl were behind us, my father cranked up the pace and we raced down the hall. He banged the front doors open with more force than I had even seen them take, and we literally flew down the front steps.\n\nHe hurried me toward the family car parked crooked on the street (and partially on the sidewalk). I noticed fresh scratches on the outside bottom of the passenger-side door as my father shoved me in. They looked like some kind of animals claw marks, but I didn't get a good look and my mind was racing.\n\nI pulled my seat belt over my shoulder as quick as I could. By the time I heard the metallic snap of the buckle, the engine had already turned over and we were moving.\n\nAs I watched the school's changeable letter sign disappear into the rear view mirror, (\"Go Spartiates!\"), I felt a heavy lump of curved metal drop into my lap with an audible thump.\n\nIt was a gun. My gun. Smith and Wesson Model M&P Bodyguard 380. Compact, black, menacing. The same one Dad had made me practice with every day since I was fifteen.\n\n\"We're going to get your mother,\" my father said. \"Right now.\"\n\nI knew exactly what he meant, I just never thought this day would actually come. It suddenly seemed so obvious to me what was happening, and I felt stupid for not getting it already.\n\n\"I'm ready.\" I said, trying to mean it as much as I could.\n\n\"No, you're not, but that doesn't matter now.\" My father's voice sounded unsteady. Maybe for the first time ever.\n\nWe drove a long time in silence. I gently stroked the red safety button on the pistol, and measured out my breathes. Dad was being very, very quiet. Soon, I knew I would be slamming the breach of my firearm into place and following him into a fight.\n\n\"There's not going to be a fight.\" My father said, as if reading my mind.\n\nWe hit a bump in the road before he could continue, and for a moment Dad's right hand was lifted off his lap and I saw what he was holding. H&R Model 929, extended barrel. The gun that he said he never used. The gun that was supposed to be just for show. The ammo loaded in it looked weird, each of the nine rounds had an orange cap on the end that I had never seen before, and they were... centerfire? Wasn't that model meant to shoot rimfire only?\n\n\"I know where she is. I'm going to go in, get her, and bring her to the car. No fighting. You will stay by the car, to protect it and yourself.\" My father explained.\n\nI nodded in agreement. I knew he could see me even though his eyes didn't leave the road.\n\n\"And if you see me running toward you, you will shoot whatever is chasing me.\"\n\nI let a long pause pass.\n\n\"Even if its Mom?\" I asked quietly.\n\nMore silence.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nI felt so many confusing emotions at once. A thousand questions raced through my mind, but none more pressing than if Mom was ok. And who she may have hurt so far.\n\n\"Your mother is... she's ok. Everything's going to be ok, you'll see.\" I didn't like the way he said it. It sounded like he had already accepted failure.\n\nI didn't know what to say. I wanted so badly to say something that would make him feel better. I wanted to say the perfect words that the perfect son would say to his Dad in a situation like this. But I couldn't find them.\n\nSo the time passed as we drove, and nothing was said until we arrived at our destination.\n\nI didn't recognize anything about the place as we pulled into the large gravel parking lot. It looked like some old dilapidated factory, abandoned for years. Two massive silos for storing... whatever... loomed in the background, each with exterior spiral staircases curling up the dirty rusted sides. A flat rectangular building spanned across the entire width of the site, with every window hosting a shattered pane of grimy glass. It was pure darkness inside the main building, evening had already settled in, and the shadows had grown long.\n\nDad let the car idle for a moment. The two headlight beams stretched across the front of the building, reflecting against unknown backdrops within and causing the interior to appear even darker.\n\n\"Wait here. Do as I said.\" Dad opened the door quickly and then he was off, following those beams of light into the shadows.\n\nHe made it to the gaping entrance of the flat building, and pushed the hanging door aside. It almost fell off its hinges. \n\nFor just a moment he looked back at me. His face had the look of ages on it. It carried no expression. Only age.\n\nDad disappeared into the darkness. Time slowed down.\n\nI waited.\n\nI got out of the car and held my pistol tight against my leg. I looked around, I scratched the dirt with the tips of my shoes, and I waited.\n\nI was looking in the complete opposite direction when my father came stumbling back. It was the spurt and squirting that I heard first. I thought the windshield wiper spray of the car had accidentally been turned on. But it was blood. I knew that even before I turned around, I could see the trail of red leading back to the building. But I didn't think it was Dad, that it could be his blood.\n\nI even raised my pistol for a moment. Then I saw my father, shambling over to me quickly, his right hand tucked under his left armpit and his other hand clasping the side of his neck.\n\nHe fell into my arms, which really meant he fell onto the front of the car. As he slipped down (far too heavy for me to hold up), and his hand slipped off his wet neck, he left a spatter of red paint over the top of the hood. He came to sit leaning against the front right hubcap, still clasping his neck.\n\nI tried to help but I didn't, or couldn't.\n\nAs I fumbled, trying to rip off a piece of my shirt and failing, he grinned.\n\n\"She...\" my father began to say, as I frantically tried to add pressure to the hand clasping his neck.\n\nSuddenly he pushed me away, with such amazing instant strength that I fell backward on my behind.\n\nFor a half-second I sat there, bewildered, looking at my father as the life drained from his body. He grinned wider and let go of his neck. The exposed wound poured out blood. The shredded remains of his skin looked like strips of paper mache.\n\n\"She...\" he said, allowing his grin to sprawl across his face in a slow, meaningful creep, \"is a hungry little thing.\"\n\nHis eyes closed, his head slumped to the side, his body weight seemed to drop, and he was gone.\n\nI rushed over to him, even though I knew it was too late. I grabbed his shoulders and when I did, his hidden right hand fell out of his armpit. Except there was no hand, just a stump. A bloody, gnawed-upon stump.\n\nI looked back at the building. Two red dots peered at me from deep dark corners. Two red spots of hatred and chaos. I thought maybe, maybe they are mechanical lights. But then they shifted, together, in unison. Those were eyes. And they were looking right at me.\n\n\"MOM!\" I shouted fiercely. The two red icicle tips just kept staring back.\n\n\"MOOOOOM!!!!\"\n\nThey blinked. It was her, alright. It was time.\n\nSafety off.", "When I was 16, my father pulled me out of school and shoved me in the car. His eyes didn’t leave the road as he threw a gun in my lap and said, “We’re going to get your mother.” \n\nIt wasn’t the sort of thing that I’d talk about at parties or even disclose to friends, but home was a strange place. My mother had always been teetering perilously on the brink of madness. She would experience vivid hallucinations, and they would drill a thought into her head that she simply couldn’t shake. For the longest time, my dad was her knight in shining armor. He would dive into her world, head first, and pull her kicking and screaming from the depths of her despair back to reality. He was what grounded her in reality.\n\nI loved my mother, and even in spite of the fits of madness, the love she had for me never waned. That’s why as her episodes gradually worsened, whereas my father lost his ability to keep her grounded in reality, the fact surfaced that I was able to ease her hallucinations. My father tried his best to hide it from me when I was young, and even though his own effectiveness waned, he never wanted me to be involved with it all even if I were a solution. My parents were loving, kind people, but they wanted to give me a better life than this. She never harmed anyone, but she would curl up in a ball on the floor, clutching at herself and muttering incoherently. These episodes were abrupt and sudden. She would just abandon whatever task she had at hand, and begin a slow, slithering descent to the floor. We all lived with the constant feeling knocking in the back of our minds that any moment, terror could grip my mother and steal her away from us. It was harmless. It was infrequent. It frightened me. My own mother frightened me.\nMy dad would always do his best to calm her down himself, but when that failed, he’d begrudgingly drag me into the situation. However, that day was different. He had given a handgun to me as soon as he was starting the car. Sweat was forming on his face and his face had been drained of its usual vitality. When this occurred, it terrified me. Today, Dad and I were on the same page. After a few minutes of driving and silence, I was finally able to speak. “What’s happening?”\n\n “She-“ He took a deep breath. “This time, she got violent. She… she started swinging wildly.” He quickly wiped his eyes and sniffled. “Louise, I’m sorry that we can’t do any better for you. But we can’t lose her like this. She’s your mother.”\nI had both hands on the gun, clasping it with white knuckles. I managed to stammer out a sentence. “What’s with this?”\n\n“She needs you. But as much I want to help her, the last thing I want is to see you hurt. I don’t know how far gone she is, but if she tries anything funny, you have to defend yourself.”\n\n“Dad, why don’t we just call for help? This is ridiculous.”\n\nHe nodded repeatedly, saying, “I know, I know. But it’s too late for that. I thought we could handle it, together as a family. I thought we could get past all this, but I should have swallowed my pride earlier. I should have called out for help. A therapist, a psychiatrist, a doctor. Anybody. I know that now. If we can just sweep this last one under the rug, I’ll do whatever it takes to put a stop to this. If we can’t do that, she’s a goner. They’ll lock her up and we’ll never see her again.”\n\nAt the time, that’s what he believed, and that’s what he told me. I would lose a mother, and he would lose the woman he loved. That’s why we kept it quiet: we didn’t know any better. We didn’t know that mental illness wasn’t a death sentence. There were two major stages in this. The first: “We can work through this together. It’s not so bad. We don’t need to see anybody about it.” The second: “We can’t tell anybody about this. They’ll take her away. They’ll ruin our family.” There wasn’t an intermediary stage. But look where that got us.\n\nWe finally pulled up to our home. From looking at the outside, nothing had changed, yet the ambiance had drastically shifted. It was ghost-like. The normal suburban background noise had died out. The usual chirping of wildlife was totally absent. They had cleared the area. I was slow to follow up behind my dad, but as I traced his steps up to the front door he was now unlocking, there was the unmistakable specks of blood following behind him. I could now see that on his left, he had wrapped bandages over the arm of his cut that had become soaked in blood and now drained upon the floor below. She had attacked him and he was still resolved to help her. As my dad opened the door, he quickly turned me to me and whispered, “Stay here. I’m going to check it out.” A brief moment later, he poked his head back out and motioned for me to come in. \n\nInside, I could see that broken glass lay scattered throughout the living room and the furniture had been torn open. My dad closed the door behind us. Wooden chairs had been cast aside and the table pushed back. On the floor with her back against the wall, holding her knees and staring straight ahead with dried tears on her face, sat my mother. I had seen her sitting like that before, but this new scene of disaster split my heart in two. Fear gripped me when I learned of these episodes, but as soon as I laid eyes on the poor wretch that Mom had become, I always found wells of inner strength to draw from. My grip went loose and I dropped that gun from my side. The last thing on my mind was my own well-being. My voice broke as I called out to her, “Mom!” Glass crushed under my sneakers as I ran and dropped to my knees by her side, throwing my arms around her. Up close, I could see stains of red on her face. She had been wiping her face with bloodied, scratched hands. My dad, while alarmed by my reckless abandon, quickly joined us on the floor when it became clear that the danger was gone. She was sullen and quiet, staring blankly out in space.\n\nShe had acquired a moment of clarity, and spoke openly to us, choking and stumbling on words. “I’m crazy. Every time this happens, I tell myself over and over again. I’m right here. I never left. I’m still with both of you. And yet, it feels like I’ve been taken away. I can breathe just fine, but I still feel like I’m suffocating. I tell myself that there was nothing in the corner of my eye, but I still panic all the same.”\n\n“It’s okay, it’s okay,” my dad consoled. “Look, look. Louise is here now. Your daughter’s here. You’re alright. Everything’s going to be okay.”\n\nHer eyes watered again, still staring off into space. “Why? I can hear your voices clearly, like you’re right next to me. You’re not the strange ones that I hear when I’m like this, but they still sound so far and distant. Louise, I’m trying so hard to be normal for you. I’m trying so hard to be alright, but I just can’t. No matter how much I insist to myself that I’m just seeing things, it just doesn’t seem to work.”\n\nMy heart was in shambles. She never had this clarity of thought before, and she spoke so openly of what she was going through. A schism had occurred between her perceptions of reality and what she knew was reality, and she fought to pull them together to no avail. Her mind was being ripped apart by these dissonant factors. I clasped one of her hands in both of mine and pressed it against my cheek. Her blood dried, but the scratches were numerous.\n\nI muttered to her, “You’re going to be okay. We’re going to get help for you.”\n\nHer voice began to crack, “But I don’t want to lose my family.”\n\nMy dad and I made contact in that moment, a silent agreement, as I told her, “You won’t. We promise we’ll be together, no matter what.”\n\nThat day never culminated in disaster as I thought it might when I first saw my dad after getting in the car. Looking back, I’m absolutely distraught that for even a moment, we thought that I might have to defend myself from my own mother. We all lived with this belief that society had abandoned people like her to her own devices. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She first believed that it could be managed, but by the time it got out of hand, she was afraid that it would mean separation from those she loved. We were all wrong. We didn’t dare seek help under the mistaken belief that there was no hope for a person that society might consider crazy. We kept her at home like a dirty secret. Circumstance was cruel to all of us.\n\nWe all made it through that day. Courage is a funny thing. Because of what we thought would happen, it took immense courage to reach out for help. It was like staring up at a towering monster and screaming back at it. However, in the moment you begin screaming, it dissipates, revealing that it only existed in our mind’s eye. We had to be very brave to do something that people would receive with compassion and concern. My mother never made a full recovery to a completely normal, functioning person, but it was close enough. Rather than dreading phone calls from my dad, I only have a residual, lurking fear that it might be something ", "A gun. What the hell would I need a gun for?\n\n\"Uh, dad..?\"\n\n\"Oh, shit, sorry.\" He takes back the gun, shoves it in under the seat, and hands me a birthday card. \"Sign it. Teller you love 'er.\"\n\n\"We're taking your mother to Golden Corral. They have an early bird special, s'why I pulledja outta school early. Butcha gone hafta go over t'Jake's house later; momma and me guh'have a special night.\"\n\nI stare at him as he thumbs his cassette tape of Whitesnake, lights up a smoke, and hums to himself. \n\nI could've asked about the gun, but just then I remembered this really funny moment on that roadrunner cartoon, and I just laughed to myself.", "DISCLAIMER: Crude language ahead. \n\n\n-----------------------\n\n\nIt landed right on my phone. My iPhone 6S Plus. It shattered the screen. \n\nIf I wasn't completely shocked that I had a gun on my lap, I would've yelled my dad's ears off. But the gun was enough to keep that from happening. \n\nI looked at my dad. He was determinedly staring at the road.\n\n\"Dad, what the fuck?\"\n\nHe doesn't take his eyes off the road. \n\n\"Dad, where are we going?\"\n\nHe looks at me from the side of his eye. \n\n\"Are you deaf?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Oh my God, ARE YOU DEAF TERRY?\"\n\n\"NO, I'M NOT, BUT I'M KINDA FUCKIN' CONFUSED 'CAUSE THERE'S A GUN ON MY LAP AND YOU'RE NOT SAYING SHIT!\"\n\n\"Watch your mouth.\"\n\nI stared at him, trying my best to burn a hole through him. \n\n\"Where are we going, Dad?\"\n\n\"To get your mom.\"\n\nI stopped to think. Mom? Mom's been dead for the past 14 years. \n\n\"... Dad, it's not funny. I have an algebra test tomorrow and I ne--\"\n\n\"She's alive.\"\n\nThat's all he needed to say. That's it. Instead of breaking my phone, throwing a loaded gun at me, and riling me up for no reason, he could've simply said those two words, and I would've followed him wherever he'd take me. \n\nIt was strange. Not because I didn't question what my dad said, the craziness of the situation at hand, or what was to come, but rather with the conviction in his voice. I'd never heard him so determined. \n\nAnd that was enough for me. \n\nFor the first time, my dad looks at me. \n\n\"Look, when we get there, I'm going to need you to go ou--\"\n\nCRASH. \n\n------------------------\n\nI open my eyes. I smell gas. A lot of gas. Everything's upside down. I see blood. Don't know if it's mine or dad's. And then I see it. \n\nTwo shiny pairs of black dress shoes, walking towards our overturned vehicle. \n\n\"Let 'em cook.\"\n\n\"No. We do it clean, or we don't do it at all.\"\n\nFuck. \n\nI look up, and I see the gun resting on the top of the frame. I grab it. \n\nIn the adrenaline rush, I never noticed my dad until now. \n\nHe was in the same position as me, and he was awake. He puts his finger to his mouth, telling me to remain quiet. Yeah, no shit, Dad. \n\nHe pulls out his wallet and retrieves his driver's license. He throws his wallet outside the window and recoils.\n\nI look at him, confu--\n\nBOOM. \n\nThe shockwave was loud enough to destroy your eardrums. I try and re-adjust my senses from the deafening explosion as I notice my dad pushing open his door with his feet. I look out the window and I see the two men spread eagled, very much not alive. He manages to squeeze out and I see his arm reach back for me. \n\n\"Come on!\"\n\nUgh. I grab his hand and I wonder what I'd be doing at home right now. Probably deriving the quadratic formula. \n\nI manage to climb out from our wrecked car and I see the damage. Dad beckons me to follow him. \n\n\"You know that gun isn't loaded, right?\"\n\nI couldn't believe it. \n\n\"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, DAD?\"\n\n-------------------------------------\n\nLet me know if you'd like more. ", "EXT. School - Day\n\nDAD (42) and SON (13) walk up to the '84 Malibu and Son gets in the passenger seat and Dad walks around to the drivers seat and gets in. Dad turns the ignition and places his hand on Son's seat back and turns around.\n\nDAD\n\nGet your seat belt on.\n\nSon grabs his seat belt quickly. Dad hits the gas and the tires spin until they hook up and the Malibu leaves a trail of rubber and smoke as the V8 growls. Dad spins the wheel and the car whips the front end around. With the car pointed to the highway the motor is finally unleashes with the scream of all eight cylinders tearing through the air.\n\nSON\n\nWhat are you doing?\n\nDad reaches in a duffle bag in the back and pulls out a Remington 870 and pushes it into Son's arms with the barrel pointed at the floor. Dad reaches in the bag and pulls drops a box of ammo in Son's lap.\n\nDAD\n\nLoad'r up.\n\nSON\n\nWhere are we going?\n\nDAD\n\nWe're going to get your mother.\n\nSon starts loading ammo in the shotgun.\n\nSON\n\nWhat are you talking about? Mom's dead.\n\nDAD\n\nNo, she didn't. She went missing. We always assumed she was dead because I was sure if she was still alive she would have found some way to get back to us. \n\nSON\n\nWhat? Mom died in a car accident. You told me the wreck was so bad we had to cremate her.\n\nDAD\n\nYour mom's a spy. We both were. When she went missing I spent the next couple years looking for her. After I couldn't find her I realized my real job was to take care of you and I got out. Today this came in the mail.\n\nDad hands Son a small portable television with a tape player glued to it. Son plays the tap and is staring at a grainy black and white image on a two inch screen with hissing audio. There is a man in a suit with a woman tied to a chair with a gag in her mouth.\n\nMAN ON TV\n\nI have your wife. You come to my facility in Chicago and give me the Golem and I'll give you back your wife. Don't come and things will not end well for her.\n\nThey pass a sign on the highway saying Chicago 806 miles.\n\nSON\n\nWhat are we doing? \n\nDAD\n\nWe're going there but we're not giving him shit. We're taking your mother back and anyone who gets in our way won't be there for long.\n", "…\n\nEverybody’s running from something. \n\nSometimes from themselves. \n\nAnd when that happens…\n\n…you call on someone very special. \n\nSomeone who stopped running long ago. \n\nThe Highwayman. \n\nFor a long while, folks thought he was a myth. No one knew his name or where he was from. He simply…appears. Materializing out of the dust storms in a rusted ol’ speedster with a firebreathing nitro-boosted engine to match. You’ll hear him.\n\nYou'll definitely hear him.\n\nSnarling down the rippling asphalt with a determined face.\n\nHe’ll be wearing a plain white dress shirt with a simple vest and tie, his sleeves rolled up and dark glasses to match the leather gloves covering his disfigured hands. He answers to no one but helps everyone. \n\nAddicts, runaways, mobsters, the abused, the forgotten, the ones who wish to be forgotten. He does not discriminate. \n\nIn the end…it doesn’t matter. He’ll come for you when you need him most.\n\nBecause nothing stops a Highwayman. \n\nHe’ll get you to where you need to be.\n\nTo threaten a Highwayman is a sin. \n\nTo kill a Highwayman is impossible. \n\nYou can try. \n\nBut you will fail. \n\nAny man can die. But an idea? It is something more than a man. \n\n…\n\nDon’t bother listing off your sexual prowess or talking about your macho, brooding attitude. \n\nIn the Saffron Gentlemen’s Club, only money talks. A man can do so much with wealth. It’s almost absurd. \n\nI pass a bloke droning on and on about thematic symbolism about a book he’s penned. Shameless plugging in a strip club. Never thought I’d see the day. The woman wrapped lovingly around his lap takes it all in, his words, his demeanor, his smell, everything, but I can see her eyes glaze over. \n\nThe only thing deep about her is her throat. \n\nYou could kill an epileptic by placing him in this club. Dazzling arrays of green and purple lights scatter across the hollering crowd, the strippers donning glow sticks around the parts that matter, the areas which tease your eyes and promise your mind pleasures you didn’t know you had. \n\nThe goddesses effortlessly slide up and down the fluorescent pole while saturated guitar leads wail in the background. \n\nPulsing in and out of my skull is a steady and infectious bassline, each downbeat coinciding perfectly with the sway of hips. I maneuver my way through the sea of patrons, who consist of wannabe womanizers, aristocrats and shady rats I’m not too keen on meeting. \n\nI catch the attention of a brunette server clad in a bare bikini and ask her if she knows where Paige is. \n\n“Wait, you’re not one of her new boyfriends, are you? Don’t cause any trouble or I’ll break your wrists.” she quickly snaps. \n\nI show her a pair of silver car keys and a silver coin of unknown origin.\n\n“Oh.” I can see on her face that she wants to apologize but for some reason she holds it in. “Well, look to the stage, hun.”\n\nAnd there she was, wearing nothing but a wristband. Free as can be, with all of those men by the stage in the palm of her hand. They’re all vulnerable, powerless against her smile, her charisma, her body, her motions, her scent.\n\nI don't care for it. I'm here for one reason only. \n\nAt last her dance ends, and I follow her to her dressing room. She's sitting in front of a mirror with those lightbulbs adorned around the frame. I make no effort to hide myself, even going as far to adjust my tie. \n\n\"You're not supposed to be back here.\" said Paige in a sing-songy voice. \n\n\"And you're supposed to be keeping a low profile.\" I respond. \n\n\"I make good money here. Hey...at least I settled on a small town.\"\n\n\"Put some clothes on.\"\n\nShe twirls her head around, reapplying her red lipstick. \"Why? Am I...distracting you?\"\n\nI turn away. \"Something took my wife.\"\n\n\"Sorry to hear that.\"\n\n\"No, you're not.\"\n\n\"How's your daughter doing-\"\n\n\"Leave her out of this.\"\n\n\"But you've brought her with you...haven't you?\"\n\n\"I need access to the Echidna's Map. And you're going to give it to me.\"\n\n\"Why should I?\"\n\n\"I helped your Coven. Now you'll help me. I never ask anything in return. But now I need the map.\"\n\n\"You helped my Coven. Not me. I don't know where it is-\"\n\nI grab her arm. Not in a gentle manner. In a manner that lets her know the malice that I'm capable of.\n\n\"Let go...Highwayman.\"\n\n\"Give me what I need. Then I will leave.\"\n\n\"No one is supposed to use that map except for the Coven. If I give it to you...then I may be forced to hurt you.\" Paige smiles deviously. \n\n\"Threatening a Highwayman is a sin.\"\n\n\"I've sinned plenty, mister. And no. I'm not giving it to you.\"\n\nHer skin starts to heat up, burning my palm. For a brief second her eyes glow a fantastic red. \n\nA blade to the neck solves everything. I let her limp body fall to the floor and rummage through her shelves. I hear the place going silent, aside from the music. The witches will find me soon enough. \n\nThen, behind the frame of an oil painting is a yellowed tattered excuse for a map. A map through the Deadlands. I shove it into my pocket.\n\n\"I'm coming, Jane.\" I mutter. \"You won't be alone for long.\"\n\nAs I begin to leave, I'm struck by a silent broadhead. Pain surges up my shoulders. \n\nHer Sisters have come. \n\nI bolt towards the exit, as several more witches armed with bewitched crossbows take aim. I see now that the club is empty, besides a single woman in a long white coat sitting by the stage. \n\n\"You've made a mistake. Breaking into a Coven club without my permission.\" spoke the woman, drinking a glass of wine. \"Breaking rules is so uncharacteristic of a Highwayman, hmm?\"\n\n\"I'm not one anymore.\" I reply, tearing the arrow out of my arm. \n\n\"I can arrange that.\" The witch teleports behind me and kicks me onto the table. Glass tears away my fragile skin. \n\nGet up.\n\nGet up, old man.\n\nI didn't have to. \n\nWith a thunderous crash, The Revelator barrels through the club's walls, flames erupting out from the skirt exhausts. The 8 cylinder engine growls and roars like a rabid animal unleashed. Luckily, my daughter can tame such a thing. She learned from the best.\n\n\"Dad! Get in!\" shouts my daughter, firing a sawed off shotgun. I run through the ensuing chaos and land on top of the roof. \n\n\"Go! Alice! Go!\" \n\nShe stomps on the throttle, the tires vomiting out bits of shredded rubber and smoke. 550 horsepower and enough torque to reverse the rotation of the planet violently propels the muscle car out of the building, leaving the Sisters with a nicely packed plume of dust and debris. But they're giving chase with two Harleys in hot pursuit.\n\n\"Honey!\" I shout above the burble of the engine. Crossbows smash into the boot of the vehicle. \n\nMy daughter opens up the sun roof, and tosses me a revolver. I take aim and miss the first three shots. \n\n\"Keep it steady, Alice! Get it on pavement!\"\n\nBelow me, she shifts into third gear, maneuvering the car around the wreckage of an airliner. \"I'm trying!\"\n\nCursing, I fire off my last shots, blowing the tires off of one motorcycle. Good riddance. The remaining witch is in the midst of reloading.\n\n\"Alice! Gun!\" Blood is starting to seep onto the windows.\n\n\"Wait!\" She's shuffling through the glove box while simultaneously weaving through the junkyard. \"I-I'm tryin'...\"\n\n\"Alice! Now, honey! Gun! GUN!\"\n\n\"I'm reloading!\"\n\nThe witch brings up her weapon to take aim, charging the arrow with sizzling arcane energy. \n\nPanic courses through my bloodstream. \"ALICE!\"\n\n\"HERE!\"\n\nI catch the rifle and squeeze the trigger. \n\nOne flash.\n\nOne bullet. \n\nOne witch whose skull is scattered all over the sands.\n\nI crawl my way into the passenger's seat and pat my daughter on the back. \"You did good, honey. You did...\" \n\nSomething insidious is looming in the rearview mirror. A titan of sand and rock ascending into the dark moonlit clouds.\n\n\"Dad...uh...what's that?\" she asks, worry tinging her tone.\n\nThe Beast. The Guardian of the Deadlands. \"How's our reserves?\"\n\n\"Six buck for the shotty, two rounds for the Widow, and two Greek Fire grenades.\"\n\nI swiftly reload the repeater. \"Ugh. Keep your eyes on the road, and the pedal to the metal. You hear me, Alice?\"\n\n\"Y-yeah...\"\n\nI hold her hand. \"I know you're scared. But you can do this.\"\n\n\"I know...\"\n\n\"Breath. Breath. In and out. Remember what I said?\"\n\nAlice grabs the shift knob which I fashioned out of an 8 ball. \"Nothing stops a Highwayman.\"\n\nI give her a smile and a quick peck on the cheek. \"We're getting her back. I promise you.\"\n\nThrough the infinite wall of dust and fire...we ride together into the horizon, the Beast howling behind us. \n\nWe've got some road to burn.\n\n...\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "The car door slammed as I reached for the seatbelt. Frightened and confused, I obeyed my father and buckled into my seat. The windshield wipers swiped back and forth, mopping up the downpour as my father ran around to the driver's side of our family's SUV. \n\n\"Hold this,\" he said as he threw a gun in my lap. \"We're going to get your mother.\"\n\n\"Dad, what's going on?\" I said. \n\nWithout a word, my father sped out out of the parking lot of my high school and onto the main road leading to downtown. The gun felt heavy in my lap. I was too scared to hold it so I was squeezed it between my thighs. My palms began to sweat as I watched my father's eyes dart left and right as we weaved through the slow traffic yielding to the storm. \n\n\"Dad,\" I repeated, \"What's going on?\" \n\n\"Something's happened Nathan and we need to get your mother and get away from here,\" said my father. \n\nI had never seen my father act this way. I always thought of my father as the boring, middle aged government worker, who did nothing more than go to and from work, with the same briefcase for the last twenty years. Not today. Today he acted like he just woke from a twenty year long dream. \n\n\"Nathan, he said, \"I need you to listen very carefully at what I'm about to tell you.\"\n\nI turned to my father and quickly made eye contact with him. Studying his eyes, I saw a different man. I nodded. \n\n\"There's been an attack. We don't know who they are, but we know they released it downtown and it is quickly spreading. The symptoms are subtle, a common co--.\"\n\nBefore he could finish, our family's SUV became the bearer of a brunt impact that had run a red light. I clutched the dashboard and center console as we spun around in circles, finally coming to a dead stop in the middle of the intersection. \n\nBefore we could assess the damage, my father grabbed my arm, \"You ok?\"\n\nFilled with adrenaline and my heart pumping fast through my chest, I nodded again. \n\n\"Son, we're going to have to move on foot, said my father, \"grab the gun.\" \n\nWithout hesitation, I clutched the gun in my hand, turned to my father and nodded once more. \n\n" ]	31
	[WP] 2 people are about to fight, but they can both predict the future and know eachother's moves	[ "EXT. Graveyard - Stormy Night\n\nA cliffside graveyard filled with head stones and trees everywhere. The rain has not let up and with the clouds filling the sky it is pitch black and you can't see your hand in front of your face. The only break in the darkness is the crack of lightning across the sky. Two men stand in the darkness. Jack (40) with his short dirty blonde hair, weathered face, and busted lip is staring down David (38) and his roughed up messy brown hair and matching suit with his black eye and bleeding nose.\n\nJACK\n\nYou should have left me alone.\n\nDAVID\n\nYou know I can't do that. What with the quickening and all.\n\nJACK\n\nThis isn't some stupid movie. I left long ago so you could have everything you ever wanted and I wouldn't be in your way.\n\nDAVID\n\nAll I ever wanted was what you had. If you leave I don't want any of it.\n\nJACK\n\nYou want what I have? Come and get it.\n\nThe lightning strikes and Jack rushes at David and swings a heavy right hook. David dodges to his left and counters with a spinning elbow to Jack's ribs. Jack intercepts this with his left hand and swings his right arm wrapping his right arm around David's throat. The darkness returns and Jack has his arm still wrapped around David's neck and he's struggling to breathe.\n\nDAVID\n\nHe- heh what are you gonna do now. Still a couple minutes before the next strike and you can't see a thing.\n\nJACK\n\nWhat I have to.\n\nDAVID\n\nWhat?\n\nJack begins running full force in the direction he last remembered the cliff being in dragging David by the throat. He collides with tree branches and tombstones but it does not deter him.\n\nDAVID\n\nDon't do this Jack. You don't have to do this.\n\nJACK\n\nI do have to do this. This is what you've pushed me too.\n\nDAVID\n\nNo, I'm begging you please don't.\n\nJack does not slow. He gets to the edge is and leaps. The lightning strikes. He stops suddenly and looks up to see his wrist bound by a leather belt to a tree on the cliff side. David plummets.\n\nDAVID\n\nI'm sorry br^o^t^h^e^r.\n\nJack stares at his brother while breathing heavily.\n\n", "A left jab to the jaw is blocked perfectly by the defender's forearm. A strike is returned only to receive the same treatment. After a series of unsuccessful blows, both fighters retreat a few steps in order to catch their breath.\n\n\"This is going nowhere. We may as well end this, here and now, and walk away.\"\n\nJames has grown tired of this senseless battle. After all, he and his opponent share the same advantage, which means that neither of them have one. The ability to foresee your enemy's exact movements and attacks is useful beyond words. How does one defeat he who possesses the same gift?\n\n\"It's not in my nature to give up. I've never once succumbed to the fear of failure. I'm not about to start now. I can predict your next move just a split second before you've made it. However, I cannot predict the outcome of our little bout. You are, without a doubt, the greatest challenge I've yet faced. How could I walk away from that? I must learn my true potential, for if I can defeat the reflection of my own abilities, I can topple any and all!\"\n\nRoland was stubborn, but it was a stubbornness that was strangely respectable. Of course, he was mainly concerned with becoming more powerful and being revered as such by others, but he carried with him a deep sense of pride and honor. After all, it was his determination that had gotten him through his rigorous training and led to him being the most accomplished fighter wherever he went. \n\nJames and Roland had trained together in a remote village that very few people even knew existed. They had been selected at a very young age to learn the art of \"Vision Fighting\". The two had been rivals throughout the entire period. At least, that is how Roland perceived things. He often wondered how it was that James had even made it through the training and mastered Vision Fighting, with his nonchalant attitude and what seemed to be a complete lack of interest in...anything. Perhaps it was all just a ruse to throw his opponents off guard. That must be it, Roland thought. Deception is one of the most important assets of any fighter's arsenal. Regardless, it would make no difference in this particular battle.\n\n\"Look, Roland. I've got to take my daughter to softball practice in forty-five minutes. It will take fifteen minutes for me to get home, and fifteen minutes to get her there. That gives you fifteen minutes to defeat me. If you think you have it in you, get it over with.\"\n\n\"How dare you!? After all these years, that's how it's going to be? The first time we are able to truly test each other's limits without our master butting in, and you're not even going to take this seriously!? I will get it over with...I'll get it over with faster than you can envision!\"\n\n\"Fine, then. Let us find out who the better Vision Fighter is.\"\n\n\"Yes! Let us find out how I am the better Vision Fighter!\"\n\nRoland rushes in for a full frontal attack. History would tell him that he shouldn't risk it, but it is typical for him to defy practicality. He unleashes a bevy of punches in quick succession, aiming nowhere in particular. James is able to deflect them all with ease, in his typical laid-back manner. \n\n\"Your approach to fighting is arrogant...master taught you to envision, but evidently forgot to teach you even the most basic of techniques.\"\n\nRoland continues his barrage, speeding up the rhythm of his strikes now. It would seem that James knows fully well how to hinder his concentration and confidence.\n\n\"Your speed means nothing here! Don't you see?\"\n\nRoland attempts to sneak a kick towards James's left knee. In one fluid motion, James is able to grab the ankle, pulling it upwards, and swing his leg into Roland's sole support. Roland falls, his back slamming into the ground. He begins to gasp for air, having had the wind knocked out of him. James realizes this as he goes down for a full-strength blow to Roland's neck. Of course, it is deflected and James is forced into a forward roll motion. Both fighters are quick to their feet. Roland, once again, charges towards James. With the same strategy as before, he begins unloading quick strikes wherever he can. \n\n\"You truly are a fool! You've got five minutes to come up with something better! Please do so, if only for the sake of providing me with a more entertaining fight!\"\n\nJames starts to notice that Roland's attacks are slowing down. Just a little bit longer, and he can end this in an instant. He has had enough of Roland's badgering throughout their relationship and has decided it is time to humble him. It will be a crushing blow to his ego, but that's exactly what he needs. It's about time I give it to him, James thought. \n\nRoland has finally declined to a speed at which James could make his move. He swung a few times just to test the waters and found that while Roland could still predict him, he wasn't fast enough to defend himself. First was a straight shot to the chest. It sent Roland stumbling backwards a few feet. When he tried to rush James again, it was an almighty rocket to the right arm. Roland's dominant arm. A deafening crack told of what was to come. It was the shot heard around the world. Roland's arm had snapped and this fight was over. He fell over, writhing in pain.\n\n\"You've got speed, endurance, and confidence. That I will give you. However, you lack strength, patience, and self discipline. Those are my advantages. You've defeated many average men through the years and that has only reinforced your arrogance and ignorance.\"\n\n\"I still don't get it! We trained under the same master, we learned the same techniques...how can this be?!\"\n\n\"You may be able to predict the near future...but that doesn't protect you from what it holds,\" said James, as he delivered one last blow to Roland's dense head." ]	2
	[WP] You're able to run an antivirus program on your own body	[ "They said that this new antivirus program would quickly connect with my nano chip, then eliminate all the virus cells in my body, and within seconds I would feel back to normal. \n\"It's 99.9% safe!\" \n\"What about the .1%?\" \n\"Oh, well there's a tiny chance it will malfunction and kill off all your cells except the virus, but that only happened once out of the one hundred thousand rats the program was tested on.\" \n\"Ahh, I see...\"\n\"Alright you're gonna feel a slight pinch as we connect the plug into your nano chip.\"\nWith that they position the plug at the tiny connector on the back of my head, and I felt a small pressure, then everything began to fade away. \n\"Hey...hey! Mr. Langston! Mrrrrr Lanngnggston cannnn yuouoou heeaar usss?\"\nTheir words became slurred and time seemed to slow to a halt as my vision had become a solid white blur. Finally, it all slipped into black.", "Alex sat in a room without windows. His room was decorated with a twin mattress, a toilet, a video screen against a wall, and a video camera attached to the corner of a wall. The video camera acted as the liaison between him and Sasha. \n\n“You don’t have to do this,” Sasha meekly said, “you’re already offline.” \n\nAlex understood this. Though he was more human than machine, the fact he was already offline gave him great solace. If his worst fears became reality, then he, at the very least, could not infect anyone else. If he was infected, then he knew the consequences. All of this was highly unlikely.\n\n“Alex,” Sasha quietly said into the microphone, “say something.”\n\nHe looked at the camera, “Let’s play this out. Say I’m not infected, then you’re right, I am free to go, but if I am, then that’s something else.”\n\n--\n\nSasha knew better. She knew the experiment Alex ran with the mental patient was bad news, but Alex as an optimist. With the new transhumanist movement, Alex believed he could cure mental illness by rewriting the patient’s brain to mirror that of a healthy specimen. He was the premier brain R&D programmer and their test facility was the mental institute.\n\n“This isn’t a good idea,” Sasha whispered loudly as she stood next to Alex.\n\n“There are no inherent risks to this,” Alex smiled, “we wrote the software to travel one way. My consciousness to the patients.”\n\n“You’re playing God by removing one’s soul and rewriting that vessel’s soul as your own,” she retorted.\n\n“No, I am curing God’s mistake,” Alex stated.\n\nSasha shook her head in subtle disbelief. Arkham Asylum was no place to conduct these experiments as these were the worst offenders, but she could not stop Alex. He was determined to conduct his experiments and make the world a better place.\n\n“Bring in patient 0801,” Alex called out.\n\n“Hi ya, Doc,” the grinning patient quietly laughed. The patient sat in a wheel chair with a muffle over his face. \n\nAlex, remained silent. He had no intention talking to this lunatic, but he was looking forward to talking with the patient after the cure. A clear helmet with protruding electrical wires was placed on the patient while a USB cable was plugged into the back of Alex’s head. \n\nThe transhumanist movement aided humans in several ways. It allowed the installation of a 20 petabyte drive inside the brain which also connected to the Apex, the main server that housed humanity’s collective consciousness. The Apex allowed for improved human learning, memory, and critical thinking and was credited with advancing humanity by a century.\n\n“You know, Doc,” the patient continued to grin, “if you wanted to pick my brain, there are plenty of other ways.”\n\nAlex only grinned himself. He would have the last laugh when his cure worked. He would show the world that he could transform anybody, even the most maniacal psychopath to ever be housed in the asylum. Alex turned to his computer and hit enter to start the machine.\n\nAlex woke up with the patient cackling and being wheeled out of the room. Sasha hovered above him with a worried expression. “What happened?” Alex croaked. \n\n“You appeared to have a seizure in the middle of the experiment,” Sasha explained. \n\n“Help me to the quarantine room,” Alex said.\n\nSasha helped Alex into the quarantine room, which was a half mile elevator ride into the earth. She placed him in room 1 as she made her way back to the control room. This was typical of most experiments. In case anything dramatic happened, it would not affect the Apex. Sasha proceeded to run the virus scan.\n\n“Alex, it says there’s something attached to your primary motor cortex,” Sasha said as she was trying to make sense of the data that flashed on the screen. She transferred the visuals to the video screen in order for Alex to read the data.\n\n“That’s im-impossible,” Alex stammered, “that’s a rootkit in the primary motor cortex of my brain. Alex instinctively touched the top of his head. \n\n“I thought you said it could only go one way?” Sasha commented.\n\nAlex ignored her comment, “You need to quarantine me now.”\n\n“What?” Sasha was dumfounded, “I can’t do that. That’ll make you brain dead.”\n\n“Sasha, you need to quarantine it. Whatever this is, it can’t have a chance to ever upload into the Apex,” Alex stated.\n\n“No, Alex. I can’t do that. I can’t take your life,” Sasha anxiously said.\n\n“You don’t have a choice,” Alex called out.\n\n“I’m not God. I cannot take your life,” Sasha timidly walked to the other side of the room and shut down generator and elevator to Alex’s room, “God help me, I cannot.”\n\n“What are you doing, Sasha?” Alex cried out as the room turned dark.\n\n“In two days you will die of thirst or in five days you will die of starvation,” Sasha began to sob, “but you’ve asked too much of me this time if you’ve asked me to take your life.”\n\n“Not like this!” Alex shouted.\n\n“I’m sorry,” Sasha whispered.\n\nNine months later, several employees of the asylum noticed the scientists who had utilized the quarantine room from time to time ceased using it. With permission from the warden, they decided to investigate. After turning on the generator and traveling a half mile into the earth, they heard a cackling coming from room 1. The employees scratched their heads as the laughing grew louder and louder as they approached the door. " ]	2
	[WP] An alien court system picks jury members by warping in randomly selected intelligent lifeforms from throughout the galaxy. You've just been selected to witness the trial of an alleged alien murder.	[ "With a BZZAP and a flash of light, I had suddenly appeared in some sort of courtroom. That much was obvious. Despite that, I had very little to go on. There were some sort of grey robots in front of me, with green monitors for heads. Beside me were six other creatures. Three were humanoid. One was made of rock, one of some sort of crystal substance, and one looked like a regular human, just glowing bright green. Two looked like oversized green ants, and the last was what appeared to be a giant slug.\n\n\n\"Poran sanec etasie?\" one robot said.\n\n\"I apologise, I do not understand your language,\" I tried to explain.\n\n\"Bicil hi nudar rip ritalo.\" One of the robots walked up and offered me a tablet, glasses, and an earpiece. I turned on the tablet. The screen read, \"Otamota Rie Dula Sutusel\". Still not understanding quite what was happening, I put on the glasses and put in the earpiece. The screen's text appeared to change. It now read, \"Universal Translation Control Unit\". I certainly understood that. That's two things I have to go on.\n\n\"Our apologies for not getting the Translator to you sooner, prospective juror.\"\n\n\"Prospective juror? What is going on? I was just watching the game, and suddenly I'm in front of a bunch of robots who speak gibberish!\"\n\n\"You have been selected to serve on our jury. You will be put through the process of voir dire before we start. You will be placed back in your previous location after the trial with no time lost.\"\n\n\"Alright, alright. I'm fine with that, I guess. Ask whatever questions you need.\" An interstellar jury. Not what I had in mind for the day, but it's not like I have anything better to do. Could be fun. Or at least informative.\n\n\n\"First, do you have any other questions of us?\" Well, finally, someone asked.\n\n\"Definitely. Who are you? Why not use your own species for the trial? And who are these things standing next to me??\"\n\n\"We are the Engi. This trial is too high-profile for impartiality. Those people you refer to as 'things' are other intelligent beings selected for this jury. They have already been through voir dire. You are our last prospective juror.\"\n\n\"Alright. Proceed with your questions, Engi.\"\n\n\n\"What is your name?\"\n\n\"Oliver Harrison.\"\n\n\"What is your occupation?\"\n\n\"Pharmacist.\"\n\n\"What is your level of education?\"\n\n\"Bachelor's degree in chemistry. Doctor of pharmacy.\" He turned to the front and addressed the two Engi at the podiums, who I assume are the lawyers.\n\n\"Any objections?\"\n\n\"No objection.\"\n\n\"No objection.\" He turned towards me again.\n\n\"Very well. Dr. Oliver Harrison, Pharm.D., you have been selected as our seventh and final juror.\" Then, addressing the court, he said, \"I am Judge Xemu Ohm, presiding over Courtroom Seven. This is the trial of Noemi Steven in the alleged murder of Tomas Pipaluk. Jurors, you are here to ascertain Mr. Steven's guilt and pass sentence if appropriate. Please be as objective as possible during the trial. Remember that the party that makes a claim must prove it beyond a reasonable doubt for the claim to be considered in the final decision. With that said, we will begin the trial with opening statements.\"\n", "There were a great many things that Jeff had seen in his not-so-long life, the vast majority of which constituted regrettable teenage decisions. Jeff also often wagered that the severity of aforementioned decisions he chose to rank by the amount of alcohol he'd had at the time, which meant a great many were not only regrettable teenage decisions, but decisions he struggled to remember. \n\nOne decision that he had not made while drunk but certainly found himself regretting was that of his job; he sat in his cramped little office cubicle waiting for a phone that looked a decade out of date to come to life with its obnoxious, off-key ring. Why had he been the one to get the broken phone, anyway? In fact, why had he even thought that a job in customer support for a small company (that seemed to be slowly tanking, if the rumours had any stock to them) would in fact be the dream job? \n\nAs he spun in his little computer chair, softly muttering a \"Wheeeee~\" to himself, Jeff didn't have an answer to any of those questions. A colleague walked by his cubicle and paused only to spare Jeff a look of pity, as if she had already seen one too many men reach the point of pretending a small computer chair was the equivalent to a theme park ride in any respect.\n\n\"What?\" Jeff asked her, still spinning and finding a great difficulty in trying to focus on his colleague's face in the process.\n\n\"How old are you?\" \n\n\"Old enough to know how goddamn stupid I look without your kindly advice,\" was his snippy answer. A hard look might have helped to get his point across, too, but he was much too busy spinning to truly care.\n\nAs the pale yellow walls of his cubicle - ugh, who thought that colour was good for an office? - spun ever by, broken up by the black brick of a monitor and the top of his pencils and pens that sat in a mug on his desk, Jeff overheard the annoyed huff of his colleague and the sharp click of her heels as she continued about her business.\n\nThe phone buzzed to life with no warning. \n\nJeff jolted at the noise, a strangled and most unmanly sound escaping his throat as his chair tipped. From five wheels to three, then to one, and then to zero as it hit the floor and took Jeff with it; he reached out to grab at anything to break the fall and managed to do nothing more than chip a nail and make himself look even more the fool. It was with a muted thud that he landed, half a sprawled mess on the floor and half stuck in his own goddamn chair, with the person working in the cubicle next to his peeking their head over the top in curiosity more than worry.\n\n\"You gonna get that?\"\n\nJeff growled an answer that was far more colourful in language than the office rules allowed, taking only the briefest of seconds to offer a cold glare at the jester before he began the struggle of getting himself upright. The chair was left abandoned on the floor too, even once Jeff was standing, and he promised the furniture he would pick it up and resume their spinning as soon as he was done with the call.\n\nThe right hand went to the receiver, a brick of a thing that was uncomfortable to hold, and the left dragged itself through now thoroughly tussled (and already a little unkempt to begin with) brown hair. Jeff always had managed to make the slightly dishevelled hairstyle work in his favour, or perhaps it was just what was expected of him by everybody else and thus nobody thought to complain about it.\n\n\"Good morning, Intelligent Systems customer service. This is Jeff speaking, how can I-\"\n\n\"Most excellent!\"\n\nThe response was unusual enough to give Jeff pause for thought. Of course, some small part of him was immediately elated that somebody sounded so happy to hear his voice, or perhaps they had just really been struggling to get through to customer service, but much of the joy was waylaid by the confusion. \"Uh... C-can I help you with anything, sir?\"\n\n\"Absolutely you can, yes!\" The voice at the other end of the phone said, their joy still so evident that it practically dripped through the phone. \"You can come right here, right now.\"\n\n\"Beg pardon?\"\n\n\"Ah, you... You did say Intelligent Systems, yes?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. Intelligent Systems customer ser-\" A flash of light interrupted Jeff half way through his sentence.\n\nThere was a lot of murmuring going on, even before the light faded enough for Jeff to be able to see a single damn thing beyond his slightly bent nose on his face. And frankly, when it did fade, Jeff couldn't be entirely confident he was glad of such a fact; the (disgusting) pale walls of his cubicle were gone, his computer chair was no longer abandoned on the floor, and his precious mug with his pens and pencils was also notably missing. It took Jeff a minute in his stupor to realise that, in fact, not only had his precious things disappeared but so too had the entire office.\n\nOn the bright side, this meant he didn't have to worry about work.\n\nOn the downside, Jeff hadn't the foggiest idea what he was even supposed to begin to make of the crowd that he stood in front of. None of them were vaguely familiar in species, let alone anything else. His attention was first immediately drawn to what could only be described as an ant gone supersized, trying to skitter and navigate through a crowd of other... other....\n\nWhat were they? A good number of them didn't seem to be impressed, and Jeff had to wonder whether he should have felt some offence that even otherworldly creatures judged him so.\n\n\"Name?\" A sudden deep voice boomed, rumbling through the unusual room and bringing a tense silence with it. \n\nThere were a lot of unusual images in that room, Jeff noted. They all looked like they were holograms, too, which was frankly some of the coolest things he'd ever seen and blew a lot of his sci-fi movies well out the water. He was so distracted by these that, when two very jelly-like creatures approached him at either side and jabbed him, Jeff let out another incredibly unmanly noise and flinched in surprise.\n\nSomewhere, in the crowd of unrecognisable shapes and creatures, somebody laughed.\n\n\"Name?\"\n\n\"Oh, me?\" Jeff turned to face the source of the booming voice, pointing to himself as he did so. Words didn't even begin to describe what he saw standing at the podium, or at least not enough to do it justice, but despite the fact it was beyond real rhyme or reason Jeff instantly dubbed it Pigman. It was all in the nose.\n\nSaid nose twitched, and whatever excuse Pigman had for eyebrows furrowed. Slowly, he gave an encouraging nod.\n\n\"Jeff.\"\n\n\"Jeff, of the Intelligent Systems,\" Pigman repeated, nodding once more and this time the nod seemed more to be of approval than anything else. Immediately, Jeff had the very sinking feeling he was being given far too much credit by Pigman and his ilk. \"Jeff, you have been brought here as a fellow intelligent lifeform, to participate in the trial of this individual.\"\n\nPigman gestured with his left hoof-hand, and Jeff followed the motion with his eyes. Brought forth from a room in the back was a third jelly-like being, though unlike the two blue ones by his side, this one was a rather fetching shade of pink and appeared to have six fingers on all three of its hands instead of only five.\n\n\"The accused,\" Pigman introduced on behalf of the new monster, whom Jeff promptly dubbed Pink Jello in light of the fact nobody seemed willing to share their own names. \"They stand on trial for murder.\"\n\nTrial? \"I'm on trial?\" \n\n\"No. No you are not on trial. The accused is on trial.\"\n\n\"Well, yes,\" Jeff tried not to let the exasperation show through his tone, \"but I'm here... why? Why am I here? Also seriously are these guys made out of jelly?\"\n\nMuttering erupted through the crowd once more and Pigman seemed utterly disappointed. Pink Jello, on the other hand, looked increasingly worried - or Jeff thought that's what she looked like as he was finding it difficult to see an actual expression on a face he could mostly see through. It was like a gummy bear experiment gone horribly, horribly wrong.\n\nThinking of gummy bears also made Jeff question if they were edible.\n\n\"You, Jeff of the Intelligent Systems, are here to help us ascertain the guilt, or the innocence, of the accused,\" Pigman spoke then, his voice a boom once more to bring the crowd to silence.\n\nSilently, Jeff motioned to himself questioningly, and for the second time did Pigman give him an encouraging nod. For a long moment after, Jeff thought about the ramifications of his situation. Jello people, a strange pig creature, supersized ants - just to name a few. Pissing them off was likely a very bad idea, but he was up shit creek without a paddle and he could see very little way of getting out safely.\n\n\"Hmm.....\" He placed his left hand to his chin, rubbing the peach fuzz there thoughtfully. \"Do I... do I get any more information about Pink Jello? Like, who did she kill? What's the motive? How did she kill them?\"\n\nThere was a silence that was much too tense for Jeff to enjoy.\n\n\"Pink... Jello? ... The accused is male, by the by,\" Pigman spoke slowly now, and where once there had been disappointment, there was now arguably as much confusion to the situation as Jeff himself felt. Turning to his right this time, Pigman stared long and hard at a rather spindly and fragile looking creature. \"I thought you said he was from the Intelligent Systems?\"\n\n\"He said that he was.\"\n\n\"I have seen more intelligence in a Edelthys.\"\n\n\"Uh, guys?\" Jeff tried to interject.\n\n\"When he answered me, he told me his name and title!\"\n\n\"H-hello?\"\n\n\"And you didn't think to check at all? What are you paid for?!\"\n\nA hand of questionable texture placed itself on Jeff's shoulder with a slightly wet sound, and Jeff turned to look at one of the blue jelly people. They gave a sympathetic look, and shook their head. \"You're the third one this week. Earth, right?\"\n\nSlowly, Jeff nodded.\n\nBlue Jello - as he was now named - sighed. \"Might as well sit down, Jeff. You're gonna be here for a while...\"", "I was on the train to work when my watch vibrated, alerting me that I had a message. Probably my boss, wondering where Alice was (at home, with her newborn) or if I could include something ridiculous in this week's newsletter (hopefully just something small, a humanizing personal comment). It took me three attempts to convince myself that I wasn't hallucinating when I put on my glasses and checked my mail. A round trip ticket to CQ0393, better known as Blue Eden. Five years of compensation for travel time. I felt tears in my eyes, but it wasn't until I got to the last line that I jumped out of my seat and started hugging strangers. PLEASE JOIN US on BLUE EDEN as a GUEST JUDGE for the hit show STARS OF THE UNIVERSE.\n\nThe small print was a blur. All that I caught was the bold letters, things like AS SOON AS POSSIBLE and YOUR WARDROBE WILL BE PROVIDED. \n\nThe temptation to get off at my stop and throw my briefcase through the office window was strong, but knowing that the train I was on would loop around to North Dakota Intersystem Starport within the hour kept me onboard. One hour and I'd be prepping. How soon would I be waking up on the planet? Five years from now, sure, but would it feel like today or tomorrow? Would they provide the full week recovery treatment or just a few days? Either way, with all that technology and the pampering that came after, I would probably feel years younger. I already felt like a little kid again! And after that, a celebrity stylist and a whole new wardrobe. Clothes that we won't have on Earth for at least a decade, and that I'd be able to afford only if I sold some organs. And after all that... I couldn't even imagine what it would be like judging the show. I always thought I would be the nasty one, the one who only gave out four or five stars during the whole season. But the way I was feeling, I could be the small-planet girl, the sweet one. Which would get me a spinoff? \n\nThe hour passed by too quickly. By the time I'd called my parents and closest friends, arranged for my house to be put into storage, and updated my LiveSelf, the train had arrived at NDIS.\n\nI showed my ticket to the first attendant I saw, a slender blond with blue eyebrows. \"Oh my gods! You must be the luckiest person in the whole galaxy.\"\n\n\"So I don't have any stuff.\"\n\n\"Then you skip the line! Come with me, I'll hand you over to the best Personal Attendant. I'm just baggage.\" She led me to through the silver-plated terminal, past banners advertising destinations with half the appeal of where I was going. Pretty much everyone I saw looked wiped out, but most of them were wealthy enough to have baggage. There were a few people like me carrying little or nothing, probably with 3D models of everything they had once owned on their watches but not a single physical object to their name. I wondered how many of us had round trip tickets, and realized I was probably one of the only ones. \"This is Malik.\"\n\n\"Hi, I'm Nyssa.\" I shook the hand offered to me by a guy painted entirely silver, probably either out of respect or admiration of the Themerra people. \n\n\"Good luck! Can't wait to see you on the show!\" The other attendant headed back to the other side of the terminal, where the line was already shorter as people from my train finished arranging for their most valued possessions to accompany them.\n\n\"This way, Nyssa.\" I followed Malik down a hallway, until he opened a door into a room with a bright false window and elegant white bathtub and cushioned chair. For your comfort and so that you don't wake during the journey, we have some simple things for you do do. First, you'll bathe. If you need any assistance I would be happy to provide it. Then,\" he walked to the chair and tapped his watch. A pillar rose from the floor and unfolded into a side table, already holding a glass of water and divided tray with dozens of pills. \"You'll take these. Have you eaten recently?\"\n\n\"Not since New York.\"\n\n\"Check the menu of the room then, it should appear when you use your glasses. Is there anything else I can provide?\"\n\n\"No, I don't think so.\"\n\n\"Will you need any assistance bathing?\"\n\nI resisted the urge to give him a once over. \"No, I'll be all right.\"\n\nBliss is something I hadn't often encountered in my adult life. But in a warm bathtub, the soft robe provided to me, and every bite of the real steak I was served... it's all bliss. Every moment. \n\nThen the nausea. Everything black. Every atom of my being on fire. Unable to move. Hear. Flashes of things my eyes couldn't register but my brain translated as death, death, death. \n\nI was on my knees on concrete, sucking in huge lungfuls of air. It was muggy. The robe was covered in ice. I still had a fork in my hand. The space I was in was enormous, empty, and made of concrete with the exception of a large metal door.\n\nI got to my feet, stronger than I felt but still trembling. I had to take small steps to reach the door. Just before I did, it swung open.\n\nA small, wooly square looked up at me with yellow eyes from a bright metal hallway. I heard noises coming from past the being, perhaps from the other doors in the hall. I took a deep breath and arrange my arm so that my watch is between us. \"Where am I?\" A projection jumped from my wrist to make my words into gestures.\n\nThe square lifted three pairs of arms and the watch translated their gestures. \"Welcome to JK126! You have been randomly selected for a great honor. The species I serve are the Sonopa. You will be a Sonopa juror.\"\n\n\"A juror? I'm not Sonopa.\"\n\n\"The Sonopa are the greatest and wisest species in the galaxy.\" The gesture made for this was a number of wild motions and jazz hands, but when the square being had completed them it trembled a little and became a hexagon. A lie? \"Their people are always good, but may still be accused of ignoble action. When this occurs, an unbiased jury is needed. You are a member of this three being jury! Congratulations!\"\n\n\"I was going to Blue Eden.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Oh god.\" I felt the tears rising alongside vomit. \"That wasn't real. You sent me a fake ticket so I would go through travel preparations and survive the warp.\"\n\n\"Someone undergoing these preparations was necessary. The Sonopa do not lie or fake.\"\n\n\"Okay. Okay. So now what?\"\n\n\"I will escort you to the trial, and you will make the right decision about the murder.\"\n\n\"Murder?\"\n\nThe square summersaulted down the corridor, and I followed on foot. The noises continued from behind the doors, mostly chattering. I lifted my wrist and it translated curses. This had to be the prison. \n\nSoon the corridor ended in another metal door. The square set its equivalent of a hand on the handle, and turned to wait for me.\n\n\"I have a question.\" The being didn't move. I hoped he'd seen the translation. \"What happens to me after the trial?\"\n\nAnother long pause. The gestures were slower this time. \"I am a slave. You... I hope they will send you to Heaven.\" The watch binged, and in a different voice informed me. \"The word Heaven has multiple meanings in this language. The speaker may mean heaven, hell, home, or the garden. \n\n\"Well... thanks.\"\n\nThe door opened. ", "Chad had been masturbating, rather lethargically and with no obvious end in sight, when he looked up to discover that he was no longer in his studio apartment.\n\nHe thought at first that he may have blacked out, because this was a thing that sometimes happened when he sniffed markers and played with himself for more than 45 minutes. But this was not the case.\n\nInstead of his apartment, Chad was in an endless, white room. To his immediate left, some sort of alligator-man sat twiddling his hooked claws and muttering to himself. To the right, a clear cube filled with phosphorescent leaves blinked and hummed like a old man at a bus stop.\n\nFurther up and down the line on both sides, odd creatures of light and slime and prehensile tails sat, waiting patiently. So Chad did the same. He was not wearing pants, because of the masturbation, but then no one else seemed to have pants, so he decided not to dwell on it.\n\nAfter a time, two cylinders of swirling light - one red, the other sort of bluish - appeared before Chad.\n\n\"Chad Burns?\"\n\nChad nodded. \"Present?\"\n\n\"Chad - do you have prior knowledge of the events that occurred on starscale 00:45:919 in the Chronium Rim, 187th parallel?\"\n\nChad could not tell which column of light was talking to him, so he made sure to look at both so as to avoid causing offense.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Chad - have you ever met or associated with the Tobathian known as Handus the Narrow-Footed?\"\n\n\"...what?\"\n\n\"Chad - do you consider yourself biased against Tobathians as a race?\"\n\nChad considered this one a hard moment. \"Come again?\"\n\n\"I have no cause for rejection.\"\n\n\"I have no cause for rejection.\"\n\nThe columns of red and blue light disappeared. The alligator-man seemed to be laughing, but Chad couldn't be sure about that one way or the other.\n\nSome time later, a block of wood dressed in sequins and glass beads appeared before the alligator, muttering words the alligator-man seemed to understand. He disappeared from the endless white room almost immediately. The beaded block of wood then stood in front of the cube of leaves and hummed a tune that Chad thought might be a Cars song. The cube disappeared. The block of wood ignored Chad and disappeared into the whiteness of the room's endless horizon.\n\nChad was glad the room was not especially cold.\n\nA table appeared before Chad. On the edge of the table was a sheaf of paper and a sharpened pencil. Chad had not considered the possibility that there would be a test. Fortunately, the pages were blank.\n\nOther tables appeared around the room - left, right, above, and below. Each table was uniquely shaped to accommodate the uniquely shaped creature that was soon sitting behind those desks. There was a mosquito-man and an anvil-man and something like a crock-pot with a bun of silvery grandma hair. There were a hundred at least, and none that looked even a little bit like Chad. At the very least, he continued to feel at ease in his pantslessness.\n\nIn the center of the sphere of floating desks a cylinder of orange light appeared, followed closely by the red and blue cylinders. Chad waved.\n\nIn between the red and blue cylinders a final being appeared. This last thing was very nearly human, except it's feet were abnormally narrow. Chad tried his best not to stare.\n\n\"Handus the Narrow-Footed - you have been charged with three counts of astrolarceny. How do you plead?\"\n\nThe narrow-footed man stood to speak. Chad worried that he might fall over on such preposterously slender feet.\n\n\"Guilty, your honor.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Well...\"\n\n\"I said he would, didn't I?\"\n\n\"They always say they will and then they don't.\"\n\nThe man shrugged. \"Well, I did it. Take me away.\"\n\n\"Hum. Very well. Sentencing tomorrow. Court is adjourned. Return the jury.\"\n\nChad's desk disappeared. \"That's it?\" One of the wooden blocks appeared. \n\n\"Earth, correct?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" said Chad. \"Jersey. Petersburg. Sun...\"\n\n\"Well, is it Jersey or Petersburg?\" \n\n\"Uh. Jersey. But Petersburg is a to...\" \n\n\"Thank you for your service,\" said the wooden block in a voice even more wooden than you'd expect from a wooden block. \"The Galactic Consortium of Justice appreciates your efforts today. Goodbye.\"\n\nThen Chad was on a beach. It was very cold and rocky and not at all familiar. \n\nChad made a mental note to keep his pants on while masturbating and began to walk. ", "\"Stop the nitpicking, Jack\", my boss said.\n\n\"These servers are two millimeters too wide for our racks. They won't fit.\nThat's not nitpicking, that's physics,\" I said.\n\n\"We can provide you with racks as well,\" the salesman tried to interject.\n\nHis name had dropped from my mind the second I've seen the specs of his\noffers. Outdated, overpriced, and on top of that: non-standard.\n\n\"Yeah,\" I said. \"And their mountings are two millimeters off as well. Boss, if\nyou fall for his bullshit, you spend half a million on old hardware and\nanother twenty thousand on the installation.\"\n\n\"Jack!\"\n\n\"What? You wanted my opinion. If you wanted somebody decorative you should\nhave brought ...\"\n\nThere was a blinding flash of light and instead of sitting between a\npissed-off boss and a huckster I stood between two burly ... things.\n\n\"Who the bleep are you?\" I asked the person on my right.\n\nThe being had a head with two eyes, a nose, a mouth, and two ears. The body\nhad two arms and two legs. That's where the similarities with a human being\nended. The head was the size of my fist, the eyes sat on stalks. So did the\nmouth. The nose was kind of an elephant's trunk, but only as thick as a\nfinger.\n\nTheir skin was of an fluorescent light blue that hurt my eyes more than their\nshape, but not as much as their neon-pink uniforms.\n\n\"We are bailiffs of the court\", the being said. \"And you have been selected\nfor jury duty. Follow us to the box.\"\n\n\"Errrm, no,\" I said. \"I'm most certainly not. You'll return me to my planet.\nWho do you think you are to abduct me?\"\n\n\"We are the Bailiffs of the Court,\" the being on my left intoned. This time, I\ncould hear the capitalization.\n\nA second later, they grabbed me under the arms and dragged me towards a desk\nthat sat at the edge of the huge room. Apparently, I had arrived in a\nmarble-decked hall. There were thick columns on either side. In front of me\nwas said desk and a pair of wooden doors.\n\n\"I'm the Chief Bailiff,\" the being behind the desk said. \"You, as an\nintelligent being, have been selected for jury duty. In accordance to the\nprotocol, you have been teleported to the Great Hall of Universal Justice to\nserve as a juror. No objection is possible. Your ... \"\n\n\"What if I try to object?\", I asked.\n\n\"The bailiffs will ensure your compliance, even if it kills you. In that case,\nthe bailiffs will resuscitate you. As I was about to say: Your mind has been\ntreated with the usual anti-confusion field and the Universal Translator has\nbeen updated to your language.\"\n\nThe bailiffs dragged me through the doors and into the set of Perry Mason,\njust up-scaled by a factor ten. Apparently, I was the last juror to be\nselected. Everybody looked at me when the Bailiffs pushed me down on a\nmoderately comfortable seat.\n\n\"The proceedings begin!\", another blue stalk-eyed being intoned.\n\nThe judge, an octopus with oversized bat wings, flopped down\non the bench. A pale-red goat rose from his seat. A display floating above him\nread 'prosecutor'.\n\nFour stalk-eyes brought a shackled stick insect. The defendant, I was informed\nby another floating display. The insect was followed by a wheel of about two\nmeters diameter. The defender rolled behind the table and faced the judge with\nhis flat side.\n\n\"Case number 912787213459,\" read the bailiff. \"Gurshun has murdered Pahulul.\"\n\n\"How do you decide?\" the judge asked the jury. A sign appeared, indicating to\nraise one of the two items in front of me: an orb for guilty, a feather for\ninnocent.\n\nAll of my fellow jurors raised the orb.\n\n\"Jack Freeman of Earth, how do you decide?\"\n\n\"No idea, your honor,\" I said. \"How about you show me some evidence?\n\n\"We have already inspected the Then-And-There machine,\" the prosecutor said.\n\"It shows Gurshun killed Pahulul.\"\n\n\"May I see for myself, you honor?\"\n\nThe judge waved a wing towards the bailiff. A huge flat-screen\nTV was wheeled into the room. After the bailiff fiddled with the knobs, it\nplayed a grainy video of one stick insect hacking another one apart\nwith a comically huge sword.\n\n\"Defendant, is that you?\" the judge asked.\n\n\"Yes, your honor\", the insect said. \"But I didn't kill Pahululy.\"\n\n\"Jury, how do you decide after seeing the evidence?\"\n\nI left the orb where it was.\n\n\"More questions, Jack Freeman?\"\n\n\"Yes, your honor.\"\n\n\"Go ahead. Somebody wake me when you're done,\" he said and wrapped himself in\nhis wings.\n\n\"OK, Gurshun,\" I said. \"Who is this Pahulul?\"\n\n\"Pahulul is my best friend. We hatched next to each other, only seconds apart. I\nwould never hurt him!\"\n\n\"So, you say this piece of infallible high-tech lies?\" I pointed to the\nThere-and-Then machine. A display explained the machine provided a window to\nany place in the known universe, at any time in the past.\n\n\"Yes, honored juror. The machine is wrong.\"\n\nI had the same weird feeling I got when reading the server brochure, not more\nthan an hour ago and a few billion light years away.\n\n\"Bailiff, teleport Pahulul into the court,\" I said.\n\nThe judge snapped upright. His wings produced a strong puff of air. \"That's\nstandard procedure. The teleporter didn't bring the victim here which means\nthe victim is dead.\"\n\n\"OK, show me Pahulul on the There-and-Then machine,\" I demanded. \"Gurshun, where\nwould Pahulul be now, if he's not dead?\"\n\nThe insect was silent. It stared at me with its faceted eyes and said nothing.\nSheesh, aliens. Their head is on the block and they keep quiet. On the other\nhand, every alien so far had more or less acted like a human would. Assuming the\ninsect did too, why would he keep quiet? Could he protect somebody?\n\n\"Can you show me what happened after the victim was supposedly killed?\" I\nasked the judge.\n\n\"Running the There-and-Then machine is costly,\" he reminded.\n\n\"Then run in fast-forward mode,\" I said.\n\n\"Noo,\" came a tortured yell from Gurshun. My suspicion was confirmed\nimmediately.\n\nThe judge seemed to think so as well. The bailiff set the machine in motion\nand we all observed how the stick insect put down the sword. The motions\nbecame faster and faster when the bailiff adjusted the controls.\n\nOn the screen, one insect dragged half of the other into a box. He put a lid\non it and an address label as I was informed by another floating display. Then\nhe dragged the box to a waiting robot that carried it away. He repeated the\nprocedure with the other half of the dead insect. Then, he sat down and\nwaited. The police arrived and arrested him.\n\nNone of this made sense, unless ...\n\n\"Where are the boxes now? Can we take a look at one of them?\"\n\nThe judge made some chirping noises that the Universal Translator could not or\ndidn't want to interpret. With a flap of his wing, he instructed the bailiff\nto do as I requested.\n\nA second later, the box was shown on screen. It sat on a lush green pasture\nbetween a few trees. Nobody was to be seen. The lid of the box had been broken\nopen. I'd bet a year's salary that it had been broken open from the inside.\n\n\"And now the other, please.\"\n\nThe box stood in the mail room of a sales company on the same planet as the\nother. Apparently, it was after hours as nobody was there. The lid had been\nbroken open too. That all but confirmed my suspicion.\n\n\"Thank you, your honor. We can stop the machine. Gurshun, just one question.\nIf I hacked one of you guys apart, do the halves regrow?\"\n\nThe insect looked shocked. That was all the confirmation, I needed.\n\n\"I'm decided, your honor,\" I said and raised the feather.\n\n\"What? How?\", the judge stuttered. \"Explain, Earthling!\"\n\n\"Gurshun cut his best buddy in half, well knowing that the two parts would\nregrow. Pahulul is not dead. He is so not dead that there are two of him right\nnow: one on the meadow, one in the mail room.\"\n\n\"Is that true,\" the judge droned and flapped his wings. He hovered above the\ninsect like an angel of death. \"Did you violate the most sacred of laws? Did\nyou duplicate a sentient being?\"\n\n\"Yes, Sir,\" the insect meekly. \"I had to. Pahulul was always so stressed-out. He\ncould not meet his sales quota regardless how many companies he visited. He\nneeded some time off. I ...\"\n\n\"Silence,\" the judge thundered. \"Bailiffs, take him away for incineration.\nThe jury is dismissed.\"\n\nThe judge landed gracefully behind the bench and waved with a wing in my\ndirection. The two bailiffs brought me to him.\n\n\"Earthling. Jack Freeman. You are the pride of your species. If all of your\npeople are this attentive and intelligent, they will be a great addition to\nthe juries of the future.\"\n\nHe went on to praise me and my contribution to this case. All I wanted was to\ngo home. It had been a long day. There was just one thing I needed to know.\n\n\"If you burn the buy because he cloned his best friend, what would you have\ndone if he really had killed him?\"\n\n\"Psychiatric ward until declared healthy\", the judge said.\n\n\"I don't get it. Why you would kill somebody for creating new life, but treat\na murder like a mental illness?\"\n\n\"Do you believe in souls? Does your planet have this concept?\"\n\n\"I, personally, don't believe in them. But yes, we have this concept.\"\n\n\"Then tell me, Jack, if a person with is duplicated, what happens to their\nsoul? What happened to Pahulul's soul? Was it halved? Did it regrow like his\nbody?\"\n\n\"No idea. Could be either of those things.\"\n\n\"Yes, nobody knows,\" the judge said. \"But nothing good could come out of that\nsituation, right?\"\n\n\"Hmm,\" I said. Something was off. This time, it took me a second to\nunderstand. If I was right, it would explain why the teleporter and the\nThere-and-Then machine had failed to prove that Pahulul was live.\n\n\"Let me guess, you use the 'soul' to identify people. Kind of a fingerprint on\nmy planet. A feature, unique for each person. So, if somebody is duplicated,\nyou don't know which one to teleport or, for that matter, to put on trial.\"\n\nA blinding flash returned me to earth without an answer." ]	5
	[WP] "Here you'll win a chance to fight freaks of nature, escape countless safety hazards, wander aimlessly for hours and die scared tired and alone"	[ "The group of young cadets stood in parade formation, their shiny faces turned up to me. I adjusted the microphone on the podium in front of me. \n\n\"You are here,\" I said, \"because you are the best, of the best, of the best.\" My voice reverberated through the mostly empty hangar. I scanned the crowd and saw only blank faces. \n\nDamn, nobody got the reference. I'm getting too old. \n\n\"You'll be given the chance to fight freaks of nature—\" Behind me, a projector lit up a large screen with a picture of the Hulk, then Godzilla, then Mecha-Trump. \n\n\"You'll be expected to escape from countless safety hazards—\" A video clip played of soldiers jumping across rooftops as Godzilla, ridden by Mecha-Trump, crashed through buildings behind the men. The screen cut to stock footage of Vietnam-era GI's crossing rivers with their rifles above their heads. \n\nA hand shot up. \n\n\"Yes, Cadet?\" \n\n\"Wilson, sir!\" The young man swallowed. \"Was that... a dinosaur being ridden by the former President, sir?\" \n\nI nodded. \n\nWilson's shoulders slumped and he stepped out of formation. \n\n\"Is there a problem, Cadet Wilson?\" \n\n\"I... I voted to Make America Great Again.\" The soldiers nearest Wilson stepped away, disgust on their faces. \"I didn't know!\" he cried. \"I was barely eighteen!\" \n\n\"I assume you attended the Clinton Global Initiative reeducation camps?\" I caught the eye of my master-at-arms, gestured towards the young private. Two full soldiers slipped forward and grabbed Wilson's arms. \n\n\"I did! I was reformed! I promise!\" Wilson struggled against the older men. \"I just... I didn't know we would be fighting him directly.\" He looked wildly at his compatriots. \"We can't stand against him! No one can stand against him!\" \n\n\"Get him out of here!\" I snapped. \n\nTears streaked Wilson's cheeks. \n\n\"We're all going to die,\" he mumbled, tears streaking his cheeks. \"We're going to die scared, tired, and alone.\" \n\n***** \nMaybe I'll write more about this, I love mecha-Trump. If you liked this story, you might like my other stories at /r/hpcisco7965 and /r/TMODAL. " ]	1
	[WP] A couple of one racial skin tone has a baby of a different racial skin tone, neither of them has cheated on the other.	[ "\"Well, it is not like I've studied medicine for this many years, because it is simple, you know?\" said the doctor who surely knew about the problems his weight could cause. \"No, no no no, it is a complex thing. Real complex. The scientists of the world are still unraveling the mysteries of the human anatomy, but us doctors have to solve them right here. And it is not easy!\" He exclaimed and pointed at the many books on the shelves.\n\n\"Yes I understand that...\" started Ito, who was clearly of an Asian descent, while holding his little bundle of confusion in his hands. \"I just don't understand how...\"\n\n\"Of course you don't, boy! Of course you don't.\" Doctor stood up and started walking around the room while pointing at the various degrees around the walls. \"That is what I am saying - the medical world is full of various mysteries. And we are the ones who solve them! See, I understand, you are confused as of now, but I suggest that you are happy. Stop worrying your little head about it. Some people become white during their lifetime, some people are born white when they should have been black! Most peculiar!\" \n\n\"But... But neon green? I can't sleep at nights, she is glowing!\" \n\n\"Yes, well...\" He sat down and frowned. \"So she is, yes. But she is healthy, isn't she? And has all the limbs and everything. I honestly can't believe that instead of being happy about a healthy baby you complain about it's color. Really, that is beyond me... But color is a strange thing. I once saw this great red Ferrari and it was shining and glistening in the Sun. So I went to a dealership to find one for myself, but no dice. They all looked dark, boring and dull. Only when the dealer took me out for a ride I realized that the shininess is not in the color, but in the way sun reflects...\"\n\n\"Do you suggest that I hold my baby in the Sun?\" Ito exclaimed.\n\n\"Well, no, I suppose. But the medical and artistic community would be most grateful if you were to inspect how a bright neon green person looks tanned...\"\n\n\"You honestly have no idea about how this happened, do you?\" \n\n\"Well, I uhmm... Well I guess... I suppose...\" the doctor nervously stuttered while trying to find another story to evade the glowing problem. \n\n\"I see.\" said Ito and stood up while clutching the baby to his heart. \"You are no help. You have no idea what this has done to our family. I am a nervous wreck, I am at the edge, my wife is constantly crying and starting to lose her healthy blue glow. This is insane and you're no help.\" with this Ito lowered his head and exited the room in a hurry." ]	1
	[WP] An independent universal deity reviews planets at random and, for the first time in its existence Earth is up next. God & Satan are forced to attend.	[ "\"So, Mr. uhm God, was it, right? Kind of a pretentious name, isn't it? In your paperwork you said that you ruled the spiritual affairs of earth with a partner called ... Satan? Where is he, he was supposed to be here!\" \"See, he always does that. Leaves all the boring and annoying stuff for me, like doing the dishes, cleaning up after new born species, bringing out the interstellar trash that arrives at our door!\" \"Yes, sure, I am sorry to hear that. Since I still have a lot of other deities to visit today, would you mind starting the review process alone?\", I asked, hoping to cut this interview short, knowing that the Quo'rian Gods who were scheduled afterwards liked to talk. A lot. \"Well, I guess? I already do most of the work here anyways!\"\n\n\"Good, then let us proceed, Mr. God. First order of business: We have not received a report from you since 5 decades! This is a clear violation of devine legislation, articel 453b clearly states that a report has to be made at least every 2 decades!\" \"Well, er, look, I'm sorry, but me and Lucy we've been going through a difficult phase lately and then there's the whole climate change thing on earth and I guess we just kind of ... forgot about your report. Could you please forgive us?\" I scribbled some notes onto my notepad and nodded. \n\n\"Ok, let's move on. We may be coming back to this later, maybe disciplinary actions are in order, but for now: You mentioned climate change, what's up with that?\" Gods face brightened with a smile when he answered: \"You see, humanity, our dominant species has made some great technological advances over the last few decades, they invented something called electricity, which is the flow of electrons through conductive particles, cars, which are usually 4-wheeled contraptions thar are moving on their own using something called 'fossil fuel' burned in a 'motor' and even something called the internet, where all of humanity can connect with each other and communicate!\" \"Yes. I see. And what does climate change have to do with that?\" \"Well, their progress, especially in regards to cars and other things was slowing down and they relied on trusted and proven concepts, so I had todo something! So I introduced climate change and global warming, it functions like this: Whenever they burn fossil fuel or something similar, it releases a gas made of a carbon atom and two oxygen atoms. They call this CO2. The more CO2 is in the atmosphere, the more the climate is changing. It's brilliant because it forces them to adapt!\"\n\n\"Aha. How very ... interessting.\", I murmured while noting down the key points. \"Now, you already mentioned the internet and praised it as one of the greatest inventions of what you call mankind. I have taken the liberty of looking through some of it and it seems to consist mostly of pictures of felines doing apparently cute things and hateful comments about other humans actions, race, words or thoughts. Care to explain that?\" Before God could answer, the door was thrown open and a figure with red skin and horns walked into the room. \"Honey, I'm home!\", it called, only to stop dead in its tracks when it saw God and me sitting at the table. \"Lucy, please, can't you see that the inspector is here? Why are you so late?!?\" God fumed at the new arrival, who was apparently Satan, the other dominant deity on this planet. \"Oh, Honey I am so...\" \"And don't call me honey infront of guests!\", God interrupted. \"Yes, God, I'm sorry. But you see, it's wednesday and Hitler still needed his weekly kicking and all the demons already went home...\" \"Yeah, sure, its always excuses and work with you, while you where having fun I had to defend our planet and our actions infront of the inspector here!\" \"Look, Hon- God, I said I was sorry, could we please continue now? Please excuse the interruption, Mr. Inspector.\"\n\nOh dear, now I knew what God meant with some small problems. This would not be over as quickly as I hoped...\n\n#####\n\nCriticism is very welcome!", "\"So this whole Heaven and Hell thing. You two have got to stop pushing that it exists.\" \n\nGod and Satan exchanged looks. George, the bureaucrat, was nodding his head. \n\n\"Yes, yes. I'm afraid it's really affecting the happiness of your people. All these wars and fights about where they're going...all for places that don't exist.\"\n\n\"But we need fear,\" said God.\n\n\"And we need to torture them!\" said Satan.\n\nThe bureaucrat shook his head. \"I'm afraid you just can't talk about places that don't exist. You're going to need to choose another place if you want to inflict fear.\" \n\nGod and Satan looked at each other. \n\n\"Florida?\" asked God. \n\nSatan shrugged. \n\nThe bureaucrat nodded his head. \"Excellent, now if you two will just fill out these eight forms and sign here, here, here, here, initial here, and sign here. Then we'll be right on our way. NEXT.\" ", "\"NEXT!\" \n\nThe three members of the panel were all looking down, finishing their notes from the last candidate, and it took a moment for them to register the sound of commotion occurring directly outside their door. By the time that it finally swung open they were all watching with interest, but a tall man in white strode in, smoothed down his robes and smiled. \n\nGlaxnar the All-Knowing tapped his pen on the desk. \"Name?\" \n\n\"God.\" The man nodded. \"Of Earth.\" \n\nGlaxnar made a note on the paper in front of him and then gestured to the seat. \"Please take a seat Mr G...\" \n\nA rather smaller scruffy man hurried into the room, wheezing slightly and rubbing at his thigh. He had a long tear down one side his his red suit, as if he had been pulled back suddenly. \"You filthy cheater, you said we'd do this together!\"\n\nGod rolled his eyes and glanced over. \"I'm sorry gentlemen, this is my colleague Satan, he seems to have forgotten that I am the deity of my world.\" \n\nSatan sucked the air in through his teeth. \"Oooh, you're a liar too!\" He turned to the panel. \"That's a lie, he's a damn liar!\" \n\nGod shook his head, looking at the ceiling and muttering softly. \"Takes one to know one.\" \n\nGlaxnar looked from the soft saintly face to the small angry one that was screwed into a perpetual scowl. \"Gentlemen, this review is for the deity of planet 61123, known as Earth.\" \n\nThey answered in unison. \"That's me!\" \n\nGod finally lost his serenity and spun on his heel, leaning down to get into Satan's face. \"I created the bloody thing, I am its deity!\" \n\nSatan wafted God's breath away and stuck out his tongue. \"You created it, but I have a larger afterlife and frankly...\" He leaned towards the panel, \"... this guy has been a bit.\" He made the drinky, drinky motion.\n\nGod reared back and spun to the podium. \"That is a fuckin' LIE, you are a goddamned...\" He stopped and took a breath, holding out his hand and calming himself. \"I'm sorry gentlemen, this is an internal dispute, not for this moment or our review. Shit my review, not ours!\" \n\nGlaxnar looked down the panel to Seebits the Decider. \"Ruling Seebits?\" \n\nGod and Satan looked anxiously at the tall, thready, pink creature. \"They are...\" he paused for effect. \"...both worthy of consideration. They shall both be present in the review.\" \n\nGod lifted his finger but Glaxnar was bored, they were already running late and had a lot to do today. \"Very well, you shall both be held accountable. Now, which of you has the paperwork?\" \n\nSatan suddenly looked shifty and scuffed his shoes, while God looked down smugly. \"Oh what? Paperwork? I guess that would be me as I am the one who does everything, being the deity and all.\" He pulled a stack of paper out of his jacket and laid it on the table, splitting it into three piles. Each of the panel members picked up their copy and began to leaf through, making little noises of approval and query. \n\nAt last Destructo the Kind paused and pointed to a part of the paper, his voice echoing into the distance. \"Here, you state that the dominant species is called 'human' but you list many species as more populous?\" \n\nGod nodded. \"Yes, nice little species that one, made 'em myself. They're the top as they are intelligent. Quite proud of that, you see I...\" \n\n\"Did you read the included instructions?\" Destructo's voice echoed with doom and kindness. Satan folded his arms, smirking. \n\nGod shuffled his feet a little nervously. \"Well, there were a lot of rules and I was somewhat in a hurry and though that...\" \n\nThe document appeared in Destructo's hands, a vast dark book which he flicked open. On the front cover RULES OF REVIEW was marked in gold. \"Page four million and sixty seven, paragraph eight. The dominant species is the most numerous and on earth that is listed for earth as...Springtails.\" Destructo tapped the document God had presented and the other panel members looked over. \n\nGod looked a little green around the edges. \"If you'll just let me...\" \n\nGlaxnar had now turned to that page. \"Does this mean you have been letting the wrong species into your afterlife?\" God glanced down at Satan and shrugged. Glaxnar shook his head. \"It's all very clear in the rules, dominant species gets an afterlife and maybe the second one too.\" He paused. \"Wait, you've not been letting these 'humans' in, have you?\" \n\nSatan took a step back, towards the door. \"You know, i'm probably intruding here, maybe i'll just...\" No one was looking at him anymore and with a small puff of sulphur he legged it through the open door and back into the waiting room. \n\nGod now looked thoroughly miserable. \"I really didn't think it mattered all that much and humans were...\" He tried a smile, \"...well, I kind of made them in my image.\" \n\nGlaxnar reeled back. \"You... you used your own image for a species? What kind of nepotistic....\" He shook his head in sheer astonishment. \n\nGod looked across the panel, only seeing condemnation and maybe a little pity from Destructo. \"Maybe?\" \n\nGlaxnar sighed, he had seen a lot of deities in his time and this one looked like he might cry. He decided to lighten the mood. \"Next thing you'll be telling me that you directly interfered in your planet or something.\" The tension broke a little at the ridiculousness of this last statement and God forced a grin onto his face, desperately hoping they didn't look too closely at the multimedia section of the paperwork.\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] God really doesn't want things like wars or natural disasters to happen, he's just very clumsy.	[ "\"What? What did I do now?\"\n\nThe angel stared at God, a mixture of consternation and frustration that the Almighty was all too familiar with. He wasn't denying anything - he knew he had done something, but that something could be anything with him, and he was genuinely confused and more than a little concerned. \n\n\"Lord, you created an earthquake that caused a tsunami, ravaging the coast of Japan and causing a complete nuclear meltdown at one of their power plants.\"\n\nGod stared for a second, then quickly looked down at his feet, cheeks burning. This was the latest in a long line of incidents he was behind, he knew. The impact was not lost on him. He thought back to the earthquake in Haiti, the eruption of Mount Vesuvius, and perhaps his biggest blunder, The Black Plague. This was another dark mark on his record, and people were not going to be happy.\n\n\"What was it this time? What did you do?\"\n\n\"It was an accident!\"\n\n\"God...\"\n\n\"People fall out of bed all the time!\"\n\n\"And that normally doesn't cause massive destruction, but we have a special case here, don't we?\"\n\nHe had a point. For all the power he had, God seemed cursed with foolishness. Heavy floods followed heavenly plumbing issues, a particularly embarassing event. There was no malice in those happenings, he was not as vengeful and brooding as some made him out to be. He was a good guy, really. Just a tad clumsy.\n\n\"Okay, okay. I admit, I messed up there. What's happening now?\"\n\n\"Well, death toll is in the thousands... this is going to be a nightmare. PR down on Earth is going to have a hell-\"\n\nA harsh stare from God cut him short.\n\n\"- ahh, I mean, an awful time saving this. I'm not even sure if they can. They can't work miracles. That's sort of your department.\"\n\nGod let out a deep sigh. \"I know, I know. It's just, the slightest thing and I'm causing waves down there - and not even the metaphorical ones. I'm not that mindful of everything I do! No one is!\"\n\n\"With the amount of power you have, couldn't you at least try to be more careful? A bit more cautious?\"\n\n\"You're right. I will. From now until forever, I won't make any more mistakes. Peace on Earth this time, I mean it.\"\n\n\"Great! Praise you, Lord. Hopefully it sticks. Now, you turned off the fan in your room, right? I know it gets stuffy in there but it causes tropical storms off the east coast of the U.S. when you leave it on wind mode.\"\n\n. . .\n\n\"God?\"\n\n\"I'll be more careful tomorrow.\"" ]	1
	[WP]: Two omnipotent entities are competing: One attempts to create the most useless possible creature, and the other comes up with an use for it.	[ "\"Humans.\"\n\nI smile cruelly, this is almost overkill. I giggle insanely, knowing I've most certainly done it. \n\n\"I call them humans! And they are the most utterly useless beings to ever live!\"\n\nI throw my hands up and cackle, so overcome with a dark glee I can't stop myself. I see your smile falter, you were so sure you could win. But not this time! Not against me!\n\n\"Their lifespan? Only about 100 revolutions of their planet around a star, and that's if they're in optimal condition. Their intellect? Incomparable to ours. In fact, they would have to spend about a quarter of their entire lifespan to properly function in a society!\"\n\nAnother giggle erupts from my mouth, and some tears of laughter fall from my face. I can see it now! Oh all the glorious things I'll make you do when I win and you pledge yourself to me.\n\nA malicious smirk adorns my face. Yes. Truly, this is my ultimate creation. \n\n\"For the first 5% of their lifespan they would be practically defenceless. Unable to fend for themselves or even form words or complex thoughts. Before that, they would have to spend 9 entire months in the womb of a female human. If the female is not optimal, the birth will fail! Additionally, the female will be weak and defenceless.\"\n\nYou sit, emotionless now. Staring at me with cold eyes, waiting for me to finish. This angers me, you should be panicking! Thinking about all the years you'll have to spend listening to my every command! \n\nI growl in sudden frustration and it briefly clouds the joy of having known I won. \n\n\"They are violent, self-serving creatures who argue and fight amongst themselves rather than suffer a blow to their pride!\"\n\nI wait for you to concede defeat, but you remain silent, waiting for me to finish. Filled with anger, I deal the last blow...\n\n\"Eventually... When you think everything is just fine... You look away for one second... They'll kill themselves. No rhyme or reason. As if they subconsciously realise their inferiority they'll up and destroy themselves and their planet..\"\n\nMy lips curl into an insane smile, overcome by orgasmic bliss at my ultimate creation. This is the pinnacle of my being. Their so redundant, so terribly useless!\n\n\"But-\" you reply now, smirking your stupid smirk. \"They helped you win... And that's pretty useful ain't it?\" My world shatters as I fall to my knees. \n\nYou continue, taking a step towards me, \"They served to make an omnipotent being win a competition. Could it be then... that all your creations... Everything you've ever made to be useless actually had a purpose. One given to them the second they crossed your mind?\" I'm frozen, staring at the ground as I shake in terror. What have I done? I can feel my very essence fading, my purpose... ceasing to be. I smile one last smile... \"You win this one God... Take them... Do with them what you please..\" And I see no more. \n\n\nEPILOGUE\n\nGod sits on his throne staring at the creation called Humans and smiles, \"I've got my work cut out for me don't i?\"" ]	1
	[WP]"It's strange, looking back. I started out just wanting to help everyone, and now I'm about to murder a hundred million people with the push of a button."	[ "\"General. It's time.\" the General nodded, getting up and going over to the assistant at the keyboard. The monitor revealled their target: the rebel base. \n\n\"You may proceed at leisure, colonel.\" the colonel nodded, reaching out to lightly press a finger onto the big red button. She hesitated. \"What's wrong?\"\n\n\"It's strange, looking back. I started out wanting to help everyone and now, here I am, about to press a button to murder a hundred million people. Civilians.\"\n\nHe smiled, laying a hand on her shoulder. \"It's not an easy choice but it's the best way. They will not surrender and it'll cost even more lives.\" \n\n\"I know, General.\" they sat for a little bit then the colonel laid a finger on the button. She pressed. They watched. \n\nWithin minutes, the rebel base was exploding, throwing up huge clouds of debris and smoke and distant screams.", "\"It's strange, looking back.\" \n\nFrom my angle, her lithe silhouette looks like something from a horror movie- all angles and sharp corners, nothing soft. Nothing yielding.\n\n\"I started out just wanting to help everyone.\" \n\nShe glances back at me and I see her eyes, glowing yellow as they catch and amplify a light that isn't there. I take a single, burning breath, still aware of the after effects of the gas.\n\n\"And now...\"\n\nShe moves like a panther across the room, her head dipping and raising with a predatory grace. That black cloak flutters around her like wings- The Raven.\n\n\"Now I'm about to murder...\"\n\nShe hesitates, looking slightly confused. \"I think I've lost count. How many was it?\"\n\n\"A...\" My voice is a croak, each word accompanied by a trickle of blood. \"Hundred... Million.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes. Thank you.\" She doesn't even sound excited, or worried. Just... tired. \"I'm about to murder a hundred million people with the push of a button. It's odd isn't it?\"\n\nShe pauses in front of the window, looking out at the city below. \n\n\"Odd how life turns out.\"\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are the captain of a pirate ship heading to uncharted land. You are being chased by the government and everyone else. You have something on deck that they all want.	[ "\"Captain! Captain!\" The squeak came from my elbow. I looked down to the upturned face of our newest shipmate, and ironed the creases of worry from my face. \n\"What is it, Lass?\" \n\"Captain! Lookout says there are two more of 'em off the stern!\" She hopped from foot to foot, agitated at the news. Patting her on the head and left the cabin to join the helmsman. \n\"How bad is it?\" I mutters to my first mate. \n\"Two off the stern, and three off the bow. They've cut us off from the Reef.\" I shook my head, and used my eyeglass to confirm their position. A snuffle alerted me to the return of the Lass. \n\"Two degrees to port, Harry! Don't make it easy for them to catch us!\" The tiller creaked as the ship rolled. \n\"I-I'm sorry Captain.\" Looking down, I found the Lass has screwed down her tricorn hat, and buckled on her cutlass.\"I-I'll go with them if it saves th... wait, that island isn't on the map!\" She ran to the side and peered through the sea mist. \n\"Now, Lass.\" I joined her at the side. \"When we found you, you were adrift at sea. We were going to claim a - a\" \n\"A finder's fee\" the first mate helpfully supplied. \n\"Indeed. A finder's fee. That is, until we found your Uncle had decided to murder everyone linked with your family\". Another snuffle at the memory, but this one more determined with survival. \"We decided that wasn't on. We've fared worse than this; assassins, storms, that octopus... what makes you think I'd surrender now?\" \nA woomph exploded from behind the stern, shortly followed by another, and three off the bow. Flames flickered merrily from our former pursuers as the helmsman aimed for a certain cove of the island. The boat groaned as a sudden load landed on the deck. Winking at the awestruck Lass, I made the introductions. \n\"Lass, may I introduce our honourary shipmate, the Dragon Taras\" The great Dragon board his head. \"Taras, may I introduce the Lass, also known as the Princess of Siyon\" The Lass curtseyed, cutlass clattering against the deck. \nA Princess eh? Taras chuckled. And she was saved by a Dragon? What an interesting tale this will be \n \n--------- \n \nMore of this world told in [this tale](https://m.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4ngo3i/comment/d43vdz7)", "&quot;Captain! Captain!&quot; The squeak came from my elbow. I looked down to the upturned face of our newest shipmate, and ironed the creases of worry from my face.&nbsp; <br>\n&quot;What is it, Lass?&quot;&nbsp; <br>\n&quot;Captain! Lookout says there are two more of &apos;em off the stern!&quot; She hopped from foot to foot, agitated at the news. Patting her on the head and left the cabin to join the helmsman.&nbsp; <br>\n&quot;How bad is it?&quot; I mutters to my first mate.&nbsp; <br>\n&quot;Two off the stern, and three off the bow. They&apos;ve cut us off from the Reef.&quot; I shook my head, and used my eyeglass to confirm their position. A snuffle alerted me to the return of the Lass.&nbsp; <br>\n&quot;Two degrees to port, Harry! Don&apos;t make it easy for them to catch us!&quot; The tiller creaked as the ship rolled.&nbsp; <br>\n&quot;I-I&apos;m sorry Captain.&quot; Looking down, I found the Lass has screwed down her tricorn hat, and buckled on her cutlass.&quot;I-I&apos;ll go with them if it saves th... wait, that island isn&apos;t on the map!&quot; She ran to the side and peered through the sea mist.&nbsp; <br>\n&quot;Now, Lass.&quot; I joined her at the side. &quot;When we found you, you were adrift at sea. We were going to claim a - a&quot;&nbsp; <br>\n&quot;A finder&apos;s fee&quot; the first mate helpfully supplied.&nbsp; <br>\n&quot;Indeed. A finder&apos;s fee. That is, until we found your Uncle had decided to murder everyone linked with your family&quot;. Another snuffle at the memory, but this one more determined with survival. &quot;We decided that wasn&apos;t on. We&apos;ve fared worse than this; assassins, storms, that octopus... what makes you think I&apos;d surrender now?&quot;&nbsp; <br>\nA woomph exploded from behind the stern, shortly followed by another, and three off the bow. Flames flickered merrily from our former pursuers as the helmsman aimed for a certain cove of the island. The boat groaned as a sudden load landed on the deck. Winking at the awestruck Lass, I made the introductions.&nbsp; <br>\n&quot;Lass, may I introduce our honourary shipmate, the Dragon Taras&quot; The great Dragon board his head. &quot;Taras, may I introduce the Lass, also known as the Princess of Siyon&quot; The Lass curtseyed, cutlass clattering against the deck.&nbsp; <br>\nA Princess eh? Taras chuckled. And she was saved by a Dragon? What an interesting tale this will be&nbsp; <br>\n&nbsp; <br>\n---------&nbsp; <br>\n&nbsp; <br>\nMore of this world told in [this tale](https://m.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4ngo3i/comment/d43vdz7)", "\"Captain! Captain!\" The squeak came from my elbow. I looked down to the upturned face of our newest shipmate, and ironed the creases of worry from my face. \n\"What is it, Lass?\" \n\"Captain! Lookout says there are two more of 'em off the stern!\" She hopped from foot to foot, agitated at the news. Patting her on the head and left the cabin to join the helmsman. \n\"How bad is it?\" I mutters to my first mate. \n\"Two off the stern, and three off the bow. They've cut us off from the Reef.\" I shook my head, and used my eyeglass to confirm their position. A snuffle alerted me to the return of the Lass. \n\"Two degrees to port, Harry! Don't make it easy for them to catch us!\" The tiller creaked as the ship rolled. \n\"I-I'm sorry Captain.\" Looking down, I found the Lass has screwed down her tricorn hat, and buckled on her cutlass.\"I-I'll go with them if it saves th... wait, that island isn't on the map!\" She ran to the side and peered through the sea mist. \n\"Now, Lass.\" I joined her at the side. \"When we found you, you were adrift at sea. We were going to claim a - a\" \n\"A finder's fee\" the first mate helpfully supplied. \n\"Indeed. A finder's fee. That is, until we found your Uncle had decided to murder everyone linked with your family\". Another snuffle at the memory, but this one more determined with survival. \"We decided that wasn't on. We've fared worse than this; assassins, storms, that octopus... what makes you think I'd surrender now?\" \nA woomph exploded from behind the stern, shortly followed by another, and three off the bow. Flames flickered merrily from our former pursuers as the helmsman aimed for a certain cove of the island. The boat groaned as a sudden load landed on the deck. Winking at the awestruck Lass, I made the introductions. \n\"Lass, may I introduce our honourary shipmate, the Dragon Taras\" The great Dragon board his head. \"Taras, may I introduce the Lass, also known as the Princess of Siyon\" The Lass curtseyed, cutlass clattering against the deck. \nA Princess eh? Taras chuckled. And she was saved by a Dragon? What an interesting tale this will be \n \n--------- \n \nMore of this world told in [this tale](https://m.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4ngo3i/comment/d43vdz7)", "\"Hey boss, look at what I found!\" a crewman shouted.\n\"I think this is it!\" After a couple months on the sea we found it. If I just knew what followed...\n\nFirst, the goverment hung up wanted signs. Absolutely everywhere. Whenever we wanted to land at a port we were chased away or attacked. We had to get new supplies, so we figured we'd land on this remote island. My father used to trade with them, so I thougt they would not rat us out. Oh how wrong I was. As soon as word spread we were there five battleships were dispatched and heading towards us. The first artillery shells shook the ground while we still were loading up the food and ammunition.\n\"Return fire! Load up faster, crew! In one minute we're taking off to the uncharted sea!\"\nCannonballs, artillerystrikes and bullets were exchanged, we suffered one casualty, but we got out of range of the enemy.\n\"Well done, guys! I think we did it! We should celebrate...\"\n\"Paul, would you please give your brother a piece of your chocolate? And when you are done, please throw away these boxes and clean up this mess!\"\n\nThis is my first time trying, hope it wasn't too awful. Criticism is appreciated." ]	4

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