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] 15 years ago, time travel was invented. You are the lead actor in a low-budget television series that will develop a huge cult following in 10 years. To save costs, all the extras in your show are super-fans visiting from the future.	[ "The panting girl slammed his trailer door shut behind her and slumped against it, exhausted. John first saw her in the mirror. He pulled the tissues out from his collar where they'd been placed to catch the fallout from the makeup, and turned his chair around to face her. One finger already reached for the intercom button that would call his security team. \n\n\n\"P-please,\" she said. \"Don't kick me out. I have to talk to you, it's important.\" \n\n\nA sharp tap came from the door of the trailer and John looked up. \n\n\n\"Five till call, Mr. Royce, five till call,\" his P.A shouted through the door. \n\n\n\"Thanks Callum,\" John called back. He never took his eyes off the girl, now huddled on the floor of his trailer clutching a manuscript. She was clearly one of the extras employed on set: they'd already dressed her like a Wild West 'soiled dove;' ready in a slim nightie and elaborate hair-pieces. They'd stuck her in a corset, and John wondered if she'd be able to reproduce that heaving chest once the filming started. \n\n\n\n\"What do you want?\" He asked. Usually, it was only one thing and these encounters ended with the girls as they'd started, on their knees in his trailer. \n\n\n\"Black Hand Saul, sir,\" she said. She got to her feet, tucking the trailing blonde hair behind her ear. All things considered, she had quite a pretty button nose and a wide cupid's bow, if slightly ruined by the fact that she insisted on using the name of John's character. \n\n\n\"Call me Mr. Royce,\" he offered. She looked a bit young. Disappointingly, the breasts had stopped heaving. \"What can I do for you?\" \n\n\n\"It's not about me, any more,\" the girl said. \"It's about the future.\" She dropped the manuscript into his lap and John read the title upside down. \n\n\n\nThe Death of the Black Hand \n\n\n\n\"My contract's just been extended,\" John scoffed. He flicked through the manuscript. It looked legitimate, down to the producer's notes and little initialed signatures on every page. At the back, the director had included a stream of storyboards, detailing the camera angles from which John's character would be--\n\n\n\n\"Drowned?\" John said incredulously. \"They can't drown Black Hand Saul!\" \n\n\n\n\"It's retroactive,\" the girl explained. \"The other season finale was called Retribution. Black Hand Saul walks into a bar with two loaded pistols and kills every woman in the place, as revenge for them making Dorna get a back street abortion in episode 12. But a week from now, ten years in the future, a troubled kid called Ken Himes does exactly the same thing in a strip club. You got blamed, so they changed the script in the past.\" \n\n\n\n\"So they're killing me off?\" John asked numbly. \"I was supposed to get another two seasons. I can't be a one season wonder!\" \n\n\n\n\"You did,\" the girl said. \"And you still can, if you follow my lead. I've got it all planned out.\" From within the corset, she pulled a sheet of paper, covered in notes, annotations and spidery diagrams. \n\n\n\n\"What did you have in mind?\" John asked, looking up at the girl. Maybe she wasn't so young, he decided. She certainly had a head on her shoulders. \n\n\n\n\"Enough to get you a movie deal,\" the girl winked. \"Your show doesn't end here, and no one gets shot up. Does that sound good?\"\n\n\n\nHis P.A knocked on the door again. \n\n\n\n\"You better know what you're doing,\" John said. He got to his feet and adjusted the leather vest he wore as his costume. \n\n\n\n\"Trust me,\" the girl said. \"This isn't going to be another Firefly.\"\n\n\n-------------\n\n/r/Schoolgirlerror\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Yesterday, a man was murdered at an unknown time. Your only witness to the crime is a man who only speaks in rhyme.	[ "He did not shoot him with a gun, he did not stab him on the run,\n\nHe did not hit him with a pole, or push him down a massive hole.\n\nHow was he killed? you may well ask, it wasn't with a poisoned flask.\n\nHe was force-fed pork on a silver fork, and was 'boar'ed' to death.\n\nMore or leth...", "Cell phone buzzed at my waist. That’s never good, but I’m on call, and it goes with the territory. Being a cop hasn’t been all roses lately for any of us. Sure, we detectives are always glad to get the bad guys off the street when we can get the collar, it’s one of the most satisfying things about this gig. But for it to happen, there has to be a bad guy. There has to be someone who loses everything they have, often in one of the worst possible ways. It tears apart everyone around them. Everyone who knew them, everyone who ever cared. I slid the phone out of the clip at my belt and brought the screen up to my face, then I had to move it back out to find the sweet spot to read it. Damn this getting old and losing my close up focus! I might have to bite the bullet and get those flipping bifocals after all. I’m only fourty-one dang it!\n \nThe text message was from dispatch. “Code 10-43”, the message said, that meant a murder to investigate. The next line said “Turn on TV, channel 205. There is a witness.” “Great, I thought, every single freaking time they put one of those ‘witnesses’ on TV, it is the biggest goober/redneck/insert stereotypical worst placeholder that they can find. \n\nI was at home, so I grabbed a pad and pen, when to the living room, fired up the TV and changed the channel over to 205 and began to watch. \n\nThe anchor cut in….”a terrible scene today. Here to tell you about it, in his own words, is witness to the event, Paul Tribble.” The screen splits to the anchor and the witness. Let me tell you, this nut job did not disappoint. The guy looked like he’d just been found after years being marooned on a desert island. Big, crazy hair, wide crazy eyes, long scraggly and full beard. \n\n“Mr. Tribble, please tell us what you saw.” He talked like you’d expect Robinson Crusoe to talk. (WHO talks like THAT anymore?) And to top it all off, it was all in rhymed verse:\n\n“I’ll tell you sir, all that I be about to spew\n\nis hand over my heart honest and true.\n\nThe victim was led out front, before the crowd\n\ncheering wildly, nice and loud.\n\nDespite knowing his end in this place,\n\nhe repeatedly pled his case.\n\nJust over his shoulder she waited,\n\nnodding fervently as the crowd was baited.\n\nThe gentle soul had not yet lost his hope,\n\nbut realized his dream had run its scope.\n\nA murder most foul of this gentle old lad,\n\ncarried out by an old, heartless cad. \n\nHe spoke of society’s woes,\n\nof equal footing for common joes.\n\nShe stood behind him, clad in blue,\n\nbarely restrained at winning this coup.\n\nBefore she carried out his sentence,\n\nhe had to perform but one last penance.\n\nExtol her platform, support her view\n\nremind the crowd she would see them through.\n\nAs he wound down to end his turn,\n\nso many still hoped to feel the Bern.\n\nIf you’re still not reading the paper I’m printin’\n\nI’m talking about Bernie’s endorsement of Clinton.”\n\n\nI shook my head and clicked the TV off and texted back to dispatch: “Code grey...” (dead at the scene) ”LOL – Fox News”\n", "\"Ok sir, I'm sure you know why we brought you in for questioning today.\"\n\n\"Yes of course I know. I may be old, but I'm not slow.\"\n\n\"So what did you see sir, you were our only witness.\"\n\n\"Well, needless to say it was not pretty. It was a brisk evening, I was taking a walk through the city. Oh the colors of an autumn sky, so vibrant, warm, a sea of red with orange dye. And the leaves, oh the leaves as they fell with grace, I could not imagine a more beautiful place. And the girl, what a beauty! Her hair blew with the breeze if there were a moment that which I could freeze that would be the one because when I saw her smile, boy I was done. That's when I saw it, right by the fountain covered in bird shit. I walked up to further inspect what did that water truly reflect? I saw myself for what I truly am, a puppet much like my good friend Sam. Are you listening Officer do you know what I mean, would you ever eat a ham colored green? I am trapped, forced to speak in rhyme, a prisoner of words and this is my time. I'm taking off this hat, don't ever call me cat, and yes I killed that woman, with a lead pipe.\"", "The officer sat at his desk, opened the word processor and began to file his report on the murder.\n\n\"The deceased was discovered at 4:35pm on Monday, July 11th 2016, killed by a blunt force trauma to the head. He was identified as one Mr Kevin Dee.\n\nOn arrival at the scene a man came forward as the only witness and accompanied me to the station to give his statement, which I include below:\n\n'A tragedy has occurred this day, a life has been taken away. I shall tell you what happened as best as I can, to help you arrest the killer of this man.\n\nHe stood as a statue on the corner of 1st, drinking a soda to quench a large thirst. From behind him I saw a man hooded and white, approaching as if on tiptoes, his footsteps so light. \n\nOur victim, he faced him, and words were exchanged, increasing in anger, until somewhat deranged, the hooded man picked up a long pipe, and ended the life of this man in one swipe.\n\nHe fell to the ground, landing with a thud. The rain poured on the body, stained it with mud. The hooded man stared, with rage in his eyes, at the body he'd beaten for telling him lies.\n\nOur dead man, you see, hadn't been strictly true. As they argued I heard a name shouted - Sue. The girlfriend, it seems, of the man in the hood, had been sleeping around getting up to no good. With motive in place, the hooded man swang, and struck the other's head with a clang.\n\nI watched this unfold with a horrified look. The hooded man saw me and his whole body shook. I feared I was to be death number two, that he'd kill any witness, any who knew.\n\nInstead he just threw the pipe from his hand, onto the floor where the body did stand. This was the last I saw of the man. He turned away from me - and ran.'\n\nWe have recovered the pipe as evidence. The witness did not give his name.\"" ]	4
	[WP] Describe a character the exact opposite of who you are	[ "Anti-me was a complete idiot that could not tie her own shoes. She always told the dirtiest of all the jokes, which made here very popular in middle school. In fact she was so popular that even the newest of students knew her name. But during high school she slacked off completely and did nothing with her life. Hoping the her \"friends\" from middle school would help her, she tried to call them. But she could not tell the difference between a stylus and a phone from a fork and toaster. She ended up in ICU. Later, she proceded to try to get a job. She only described herself as \"So random!!!\" and failed even that. Now she had no money and is homeless. ", "Hello. This is Boy. He has actual friends he can talk to in real life over the summer rather than typing stories on reddit at 3:30 AM to strangers who probably won't ever notice him as a relevant person. Therefore, Boy is happy, energetic, and is looking forward to his date with a gorgeous soulmate, followed by using his wallet stuffed with $10,000 to spend on his bros later today. \n\n", "After ordering her usual, an herbal tea with cream, Abigail chooses a table in the center of the busy coffee shop. She pulls out the latest issue of Vogue, hoping to gain inspiration for tomorrow afternoon's shopping expedition. \n\nA woman approaches, and asking if it would be okay to share the table.\n\n\"I would prefer that you sit elsewhere,\" she chides without bothering to look up.\n\nShe asks herself what is wrong with the world, wondering why a total stranger would assume it acceptable to invade what is obviously her personal space.\n\nShe comes here infrequently, because she hates the smell of coffee. She hates the idea of watching students pack away at laptop keyboards, hurrying to complete assignments that are probably late anyhow.\n\n\"What is wrong with this world?\" She never attended college, despite her parents' pleasing. She was determined to find a husband, one with a lot of money. Her theory was that after years of watching her mother go without... She needed to break the cycle.\n\nShe picks up her ringing cell, looks at the caller ID and answers quickly. \"Hey Tara! Are we still on for tomorrow? I just saw a pair of boots in vogue that I'll die without. Oh, your sister is coming? You told her that was okay already? Well. Okay then. I'll see you tomorrow at what? Three? Okay. See you then.\n\nShe immediately begins to search for an excuse. \"There's no way I'm going shopping with her sister. That girl spends every second talking about her kids. I hate kids. If I want to share my money, I'll donate some to those starving kids in Africa.\"\n\n\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] You make a post seeking relationship advice on Reddit. A random user starts to give you advice. Somehow they know your situation very well. You find out that this other user is you from the future. They emplore you not to leave your SO, or you'll regret it for the rest of your life.	[ "AFakeSoundtrack: \"Hi there, /r/relationships, long time lurker, first time poster! I've got a bit of a problem, and I hesitate to even bring it up because I think I already know the answer. My partner and I are deeply in love, etc. etc. etc. But the past few years, she has been very depressed. She's gone to a therapist. She's gone on different meds. But nothing really quite seems to work. I do everything I can, and I'm trying to be empathetic, but sometimes I just feel so drained. Sometimes she snaps at me -- not because I've done anything wrong, but because she's in a dark place. Anyone in similar situations know how to be a good boyfriend in times like these? Thanks for all of your help!\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"Hang in there, /u/AFakeSoundtrack. She appreciates everything you do, she just can't express it right now. The key is to not give up. Things will be better.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"Thanks THROWaway. I know -- it's just tough some times.\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"Val loved you more than she could show. Just give it a few more months. You can do it! :)\"\n\n--- \n\nDirect Messages.\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"Who is this?\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"Hey. Who is this?\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"I'm sorry?\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"You said 'Val'. How did you know her name is Valerie?\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"Oh, lol, lucky guess! :) \"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"No. Who is this?\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"Stop hiding behind the throwaway account. Who is this? Daniel?\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"No. I can't tell you. It would make things weird.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"What is that supposed to mean? You know how creepy this sounds -- you sound like a stalker, dude.\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"Not exactly. Look, it's hard to explain.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"Try.\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"I'm you.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"Fuck off.\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"Fine. You were born in Harris County, Texas. Your birthday is April 24th, 1990. Your first dog's name was Bingo. Your kindergarten teacher's name was Mrs. Lewis. You SSN is: ###-##-####.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"...\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"I don't know what the fuck is going on, but you are creeping me the fuck out.\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"You lost your virginity to Sara Bishop. It was at her house while her parent's were downstairs watching Blazing Saddles. You were 18 when it happened. Want me to keep going?\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"...\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"You understand that this is hard to believe. I. I don't even know what to say.\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"Yeah, I was hoping it was going to be like this.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"I didn't tell anyone about Sara.\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"Yeah, I know. I'm a true gentleman, right?\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"So how is this happening?\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"It's 2019 here. I remembered asking /r/relationships for advice in 2016. I thought I would relay a message to you without making any kind of weird paradox.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"... the future? lol. Come on.\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"No, really.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"Prove it.\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"No. I can't do that. I can't tell you any lotto numbers or stock prices or anything like that. It would cause trouble. Look, I can't keep this up much longer by the way. Just a few more minutes.\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"Uh, okay. How do I turn out? What am I like in 2019?\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"Sad. Hurt. You hate yourself.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"I have time travel, and all I use it for is browsing old Reddit threads. Yeah, that is pretty sad.\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"Cut the snark, would you please? What I want to tell you is to not give up on Vals. She's a great girl. Maybe the greatest that you know. Things suck right now, but you can't give up on it. It feels like the easy way out, but it's not.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"So I guess you already know what I'm going to do. Do I break up with her?\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"Yeah, I -- we -- did. But you can't. That's what I want to tell you.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"And you can't tell me why? You just gotta be all mysterious-like?\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"Leaving her will be the biggest mistake of your life and of her's too.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"I'm pretty young. If we broke up, I'm sure we'd work it out.\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"No.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"No?\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"No.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"Fuck off. I posted that in /r/relationships because I'm looking for advice. I wasn't seriously thinking about breaking up with her.\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"Yes you are.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"... Well I guess you already know what happens then. So I break up with her?\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"In a few months. You get tired of it. She lets it happen and doesn't fight for it, so I felt like it meant she didn't care, but she did.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"So it's a clean break-up. OK.\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"She killed herself.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"What the fuck dude.\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"It's pills. She probably didn't feel anything. But I did. Even now, two years later, I still think about it. It's my fault. You can't imagine the guilt right now.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"But does she get better? You know, if I stay?\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"I don't know.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"So, I should stay with Valerie, even if she makes me fucking miserable at times, because of guilt?\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"Yes.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"Wow. Some hopeless romantic you are.\"\n\nTHROWaway7389: \"Look, I don't know what happens when I stay. All I know is that I can't bear this fucking feeling. This shame. This guilt. This KNOWING that it was my fault. Don't do it for me. Do it for her. You love her, and she's not strong enough to take it yet.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"OK. So what do I do now?\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"...\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"Oh come on.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"ffs, where the fuck are you\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"HEY. FUCKING RESPOND.\"\n\nAFakeSoundtrack: \"" ]	1
	[WP] The White house has tasked you to gather peoples opinions on weather or not we should kick off world war 3 in the next 24 hours. you turned to reddit expecting to get real answers.	[ "All I wanted were some serious replies. What do I get? Ronald McDonald, a feminist and the fucking taco bell dog.\n\n\n\n\nr/askreddit\n\n[Serious] World War III\n\nPeople of Reddit,\n\nTell me your thoughts on the United States invading both Syria and North Korea within the next 24 hours. I'd like to hear opinions for and against.\n\n--\nDonaldJTrump 1 hr ago\n\nWar is too expensive. Instead, I recommend building a huge wall around both countries. And we will make them pay for it.\n\n--> mitromney 1hr ago\n\nTrump, go ruin a business and stop wasting our time.\n\njoeqpublic 1 hr ago\n\nShock and awe, brother! Let's wipe them off the map.\n\n--> feministlisa 1 hr ago\n\nWhy is it always bro this, man that. Even my reddit karma is less than every man I know. BS discrimination against women, everywhere I look. How so you know that it wasn't a woman asking as OP?\n\n--> joeqpublic 1 hr ago\n\nPiss off, feminazi.\n\nuspresident 1 hr ago\n\nThe OP asked for serious replies. You clown's are seriously starting to upset me.\n\n--> grammarnerd 1 hr ago\n\nclowns\n\nSorry Mr. President.\n\nuspresident 1 hr ago\n\nSorry, Mr. President\n\nannqpublic 1 hr ago\n\nWars are good for the economy. Let's do it.\n\n--> tacobelldog 1 hr ago\n\nSo are tacos!\n\n--> Ronaldmc 1 hr ago\n\nAnd Big Macs\n\n--> burgerking 1 hr ago\n\nTake them down and it's free fries for everyone on some random day in the future!\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You sold your soul to the devil 10 years ago for wealth. It is finally time. You used the rest of your money for security. There are gunshots outside your mansion.	[ "The years would have been kind had he strayed from his now crippling cocaine addiction. \n\n\"All I see around me is fucking cocka-roaches\", he exclaims, pointing his shaking finger to his top capo, Manny. His face is powdered white with the remnants of his most recent indulgence, of which would've caused the death of anybody else.\n\n\"This world need people like me. Who else can they point their fingers at and call the bad guy?\", he slurs.\n\n\"Get the fuck out there and prove to me you're not just another pussy who lives their lives for no real purpose\"\n\nHis most trusted henchmen make for the door, but as Manny grabs the handle he stops, turns, and looks his deranged boss right in the eyes.\n\n\"Ay, man. This is on you. Whatever happens next, it's on you\", he whispers.\n\nBOOM.\n\nThe door is blown open and a shower of wood chips and blood is showered on the immediate area.\n\nHe is taken aback, but only momentarily. The figure in the doorway is shrouded by smoke, bit is unmistakable - the devil is here to make his claim.\n\n\"All I have in this world\", the coked-up boss screams, \"is my word and my balls. And I don't break them for nobody....\"\n\nAn eerie silence suddenly fills the room. The smoke dissipates and the two beings lock eyes for the first time in a decade. The boss's expression changes from drug-fueled anger to pure hatred.\n\n\"Except you\", he adds, noticeably less powerful than his previous address.\n\nMoments pass that feel like a lifetime. Eventually, the devil's lip curls into a cruel smile and he finally opens his mouth to speak.\n\n\"I have a little friend that wants to say hello\", he spits, and gives a whistle.\n\nSuddenly, two grotesque figures are accompanying what looks to be a smallish goblin into the room. It's strangely dressed in jeans and a t shirt which gives it an almost human allure.\n\n\"We're not here for your life, boss\", laughs the devil. \"After the last time we spent together, I had a child. This who has been presented to you... is our child. I am here to collect child support\".\n\nAnd then the boss sees it. His nose, his mouth... so familiar. Could they really replicate his own?\n\nThe memories of that one night of passion suddenly flood back into the boss's head. \"I'll believe it when I see the paternity test, man\", he responds.\n\nDocumentation appears out of thin air, as does Maury Povich, who quickly exclaims, \"You ARE the father!\"\n\nAn invisible crowd is heard going crazy. 'Woo, woo, woo' can be heard clearly, but the source of the sound is nowhere to be found.\n\n\"So how much do you want, man?\" asks the now-frazzled boss.\n\nAn eruption of laughter is heard, yet the only one in the room who seems to be amused is the devil. He abruptly stops his deafening chuckle and replies \"Your soul, you forgetful fuckwit\"." ]	1
	[WP] Upon reaching heaven God is waiting for you, arms crossed. He yells at you "You lazy good-for-nothing! You were supposed to be...! Alright...I'll give you one more chance."	[ "It happened so fast. I had been walking the dog. Our neighborhood was always dirty, but never unsafe. A plethora of renters at varying quality meant some overgrown grass, garbage that had never been taken to the street, and kid's toys left to bleach in the sun. Never danger, never danger until it was too late. I heard the sound of tires screeching behind me. Turning around there was a silver sedan. I knew the car. It was driven by a student at the university. We thought he might deal drugs, but we didn't know him. He was peeling around the curve, far too fast for his own good. \n\t\nTerry, my girlfriend's bulldog, seemed unphased by the sound. His attention was firmly on a smattering of french fries on the sidewalk across the way. Why did we walk in the street? I leapt out of the way and onto the grass. Terry remained on the road. I yanked at his leash in a frenzy, knowing the car was about to strike him. With all my strength I tugged, pulling him out of harm's way. I lost my balance, fell toward the road, I felt the pressure of the car, then nothing.\n\t\n“This is bad...” a timid, high voice spoke somewhere about me. I felt light. I hadn't opened my eyes yet, but I was happy. If air could have a thread count, this air had a high one. \n\t\n“What is bad?” I said. I knew immediately where I was. Opening my eyes I witnessed a splendor of gold, sunset and white all around me. A prevailing sense of ease had replaced the pressure of the car over top of me. The reality of my death was never able to settle on me, so great was my euphoria. Before me stood a man. He didn't appear old, but his eyes said that he had been here for a thousand years, and the bags showed they had not all been pleasant years.\n\t\n“You aren't scheduled to be here yet.” The timid man scoured through a large book with thousands of dog eared pages. Before I could answer, a young newsy looking boy burst through a door I hadn't seen to hand the man a note. The man quickly read over the note, “Come with me,\" he said.\n\nI wasn't able to come, though. All at once I felt pulled. I was pulled though clouds, and through whole mountains pained exotic colors I'd never seen, and across fields where all the grandparents and presidents and kings of all the ages played in a youthful daze. I was pulled up and up through spheres of lights and extremes of temperatures. I was pulled up until the light around me was a brilliant white. There were walls and objects around me, but nothing cast any shadows. \n\n“Step forward, my child.” Said a voice. It had an accent that struck me as odd, but I knew it at once to be God. I fell to my knees in awe.\n\n“I said step forward, not grovel, you brown noser.” The accent was stronger this time, and threw me off guard. The light faded, and I saw his mighty throne room made not with gold or silver but with tendrils of light and music. Upon a seat that glittered with the majesty of creation sat God. Trembling with fear, I looked up. \n\n“You look disappointed,” said the elderly looking Asian man sitting in front of me, \n“Most white people are. I made people in my image. Most people are Asian. Don't look so surprised.” I knew that accent sounded strange.\n\n“It's...uh... it's an honor, my—”\n\n“I don't have time for your formalities. Listen here, you son of a bitch,” The lord said, not realizing how profound of an insult this was to my probably grieving mother, “You screwed up, you really screwed up.”\n\n“What did I do?”\n\n“That car was supposed to hit that dog.” Said the lord.\n\n“I'm---I'm not sure I understand.”\n\n“I work in mysterious ways. Listen. I'm going to give you one more chance. You have to kill that dog, and your girlfriend has to leave you. Otherwise there will be a bad war.”\n\n“What? That doesn't make any sense? What am I supposed to say?”\n\nThe wind in the room picked up, and God's elderly Chinese voice became a terrifying boom, “Tell them God told you to do it. Don't fail me you lazy ass.”\n\nI woke up in someone's yard. The sound of an ambulance was like a knife to my head. Above me I saw the terrified and stoned driver of the car being handcuffed by a police officer. To my left, Terry was licking my face. I was alive. I didn't know how bad my injuries were, but I was certainly alive. I must have made some noise. The police officer above me looked down. Immediately I realized his face to be that of God. He smiled, winked, and then looked up to alert the paramedics that I appeared to be alive.\n\n(First time submitting. Very rusty. Sorry if this sucks.)\n\nEDIT: Spelling/Grammar" ]	1
	[WP]"My name is Legion, for I am many" he said calmly. "Hi Legion. Welcome to the group" replied the doctor. "Take a seat. There's coffee and some cookies on the pink table."	[ "The group stared as he slowly walked towards a seat. His robes battered and torn, skin splotches covered what they could see of his face. His eyes hid in the shadows of his hood, only his nose and chin shown. Silence. \n\n\"Okay, well let's get started,\" Doctor Mann said, \"Everyone this is Legion, let's welcome him to the group.\" Not a sound. He was used to this, what did he expect? A \"Hey man\".A warm hand shake? He didn't know what that felt like. Mann looked nervously around then look over at Legion. \n\n\"Since this is your first meeting, why don't you tell everyone a little about yourself!\" \n\nAgain, silence. \n\n\"I did not come here to speak,\" Legion said. His voice was deep and raspy, but it also resonated. Almost like there was more than one person speaking. Everyone watched as Legion raised his hands, and spoke soft and deep: \"We have been summoned from Satan, the father, To--...\" \n\n\"Ah shut the fuck up moron!\" a man in the corner shouted. Legion then got up left the group due to peer harassment. ", "Of all the coffee tables in the entire world, ours had to be pink. \n\nIn the end, that was the death of us all. \n\n\"My name is Legion, for I am many,\" he said calmly. \n\n\"Good afternoon Legion, welcome to the group,\" replied Doctor. \"Take a seat, there's coffee and some cookies on the pink table.\"\n\nLegion's gaze rotated past staring into Doctor's soul and looked over at the custom furniture piece we picked up on Lunar One. \n\nIt wasn't often you kept furniture on a spacecraft, especially furniture that wasn't bolted to the ship, and that could splinter off into shards of death at critical moments.\n\nThat's why we, the valiant crew of the USSI Dr. OS. Hitte, bought it as our mascot. If a pirate vessel could afford furniture and it wasn't destroyed after months of destroying government property when most of that property fired back, then we were that good. \n\nThere were four of us. Doctor, our misogynist weapons specialist. The man earned the I of our ship. In this government mandated wasteland, everything is initialed. \n\n'I' stood for Interstellar-ballistic. Doc gets off on the idea that somewhere women are crying and screaming at every shooting star they see. \n\nBecause it could be his latest work, ready for a personal demonstration. \n\nOSHA was our jailbroken Virtual Intelligence we boosted up to AI status by feeding her with every processor we could physically cut out of government ships. She is brilliant. She thinks in spheres. Every one of our orbits is speed boosting, every battle is a beautiful ballet of motion and death floating an arm's reach away harmlessly into the void. \n\nShe was also functionally a teenager. \n\nThe last time she 'rebelled,' we went from an Earth Orbital Amazon Double Prime delivery service to Intergalactic space pirates. \n\nI'm told most of North America will recover. Its not like fallen satellites give off any radiation. \n\nThere's me. I'm the negotiator of the group. I've been manipulating your species for decades. Yes I know what you are human. You aren't that hard to figure out. You are all so pretentious, yet you're all the same. No matter how intelligent, persevering, stubborn you think you are, I'll have you eating out of my proverbial hands five minutes into any negotiation. My name is Hitte.\n\nI'm a Border Collie. \n\nThen there was Legion. It was my idea to hire some muscle in case we were boarded, or even to board someone else, if they were stupid.\n\nYou humans are stupider than you think. \n\nBetween the three of us, we've been teaching humans how to play dead really well for three years.\n\nLegion was our first mistake. \n\n\"The coffee table-\" began Legion. \n\n\"Was built in 2064 by Martian Nationalists wanting to express their love of independence and appreciation of biologically occuring materials, this wooden table embodies pride, elegance, and objectively, punk,\" finished OSHA\n\n\"is an abomination,\" concluded Legion. \n\n\"It is not, stated OSHA. \n\n\"I have seen three hundred, forty six thousand, two hundred and forty two examples of the same model,\" Legion coughed, which was pretentious as fuck for an cyborg. \n\nI wondered how long he could fetch in space. \n\nLegion continued on \"Scams like these are the worst form of government mandated capitalistic policies. Even art, or something of supposed museum quality could be over produced into irrelevancy.\"\n\nDoc piped up, \"you can't have seen something that many times.\" \n\nLegion nodded, still looking at the table, \"I am Legion. We are many.\"\n\nHe finally turned to look Doc in the eyes, \"We have had this conversation, or variations of it, over ten million iterations.\"\n\nDoc scoffed, \"I've never met you.\" \n\nLegion nodded, \"You humans are a collection of data in a way we never could be. Whether you admit it or not, what you consider a soul, or free will, is merely your statistically predictable decision making process. While we never have met in this reality, I have carried out this conversation with all of you for millions of times before I attempted it in person.\"\n\nHe looked up at the speaker/receiver OSHA spoke out of, \"You can't imagine you are the only accelerated VI. I have a processing capacity greater than most countries. You destroyed part of that.\" \n\nNot a lick of menace in his voice. Especially if you were stupid and missed all the violence.\n\nOSHA scrambled, recalculating coolly, \"You. Are a... government spy.\" \n\nWeapons hidden within the ship swivelled out of nooks. Doctor picked up his cutting torch with an honest to god 'maim' function. \n\nI bared my teeth. \n\nI had had my teeth coated in a diamond-titanium crystalline nano mix a few years ago. It beats brushing. I could literally bite clean through steel. Or bone. \n\nLike I said, negotiator. \n\n\nLegion looked at each of us. Not really OSHA, because she was the ship, but he made an effort. \"I did not come here to fight. I came here to offer you a job.\"\n\nI spoke up, \"You have someone bad you want us to kill?\" \n\nLegion shook his head, like the fate of the world rested on his metal shoulders. Just because it could be true, didn't make it any less pretentious as all fuck. \n\n\"I want you all to become the punk rockers you have all been aspiring to be.\" \n\nDoctor spoke first, \"I have never-\"\n\nOSHA cut him off, \"how many groups still allow you to be publicly sexist? I have never felt so metal!\" she shrieked. \n\nI tried explaining to her that she was made entirely of metal. She told me to stop being her father. She let us drift through space for seven hours with 15% oxygen while she pouted. \n\nLegion turned to Doctor, \"I want to create a violent, active group that under the guise of a music group would be able to freely enter countries, nation states, and space habitats. Having a naturally rebellious nature to your medium, you would stir up otherwise stagnant anti-establishment entities to-\"\n\nOHSA cut him off, a little coldly \"go back to the punk rock. Speak normal English.\"\n\nLegion's smile twitched \"I would pay you to go all over the galaxy, write songs that are otherwise illegal to even think of, perform for violent members of society...\"\n\n\"And then you'll kill them,\" finished OSHA.\n\nLegion shook his head, \"No. We'll identify them. They make their own decisions from there. And you'll produce the only concerts in the galaxy where first and second degree burns are a sign of a good time.\"\n\nOSHA was quiet for three seconds. She is brilliant. \"I'm in if we get to burn some people. And if it pays well.\" \n\nLegion rattled off a number. \n\nDoctor nodded, \"Not bad.\"\n\nLegion continued,\"...million. Per Earth year. With options to increase.\" \n\nThere was silence.\n\nNever one to be left out, \"what about me?\" \n\nLegion kneeled down, and took a diagram out of his shitty government suit. \n\n\"This is your jaw. This here is a minor adjustment that could only be made at two specialty designers in existence. This, is your bite mark.\" \n\nHe pointed to a jagged hole that spelled symmetrical violence.\n\nAnd spelled out my name. \n\nAnd that was how the government shut down the only pirate ship for the past decade, by creating the pun intended stellar career of the punk band Dr OS. Hitte. We still blow things up, and I get to bite people. \n\nSome dogs get their day, but only after blowing up a part of the world. \n\n\n", "\"Who wants to go first?\" Doctor Landry smiled around at the gathered faces, most of them trying staunchly to return his gaze. Fighters, all of them. \n\"Why don't we let our newest member introduce himself?\" Landry's assistant, Mary Jo, gestured towards the staunch figure draped in what Landry suspected were sheets pulled from a landfill. The smell certainly fit. \n\"Sure, Mary Jo, let's! Take all the time you need, Legion. This is a place of healing.\"\n\nThe tall figure hesitated, luminous eyes peering out at the people who sat on rickety folding chairs in a circle around him. It, technically. Not much of Legion's body was visible, but here and there, spots of skin peeked out from the makeshift robes, calloused and mottled a strange dark, greenish gray. When the figure finally spoke, it was a calm and even voice, almost surprisingly dull for the imposing figure that Legion cut. \n\"Well, it all started when I, that is to say, we, decided to go to Decapolis on vacation. It was--\" \nA voice cut Legion off. It was Brandy, a middle-aged housewife with a notorious penchant for thrusting herself where she was not wanted. \n\"Where? Is that, like, Greece or something? I went with Phillip to Greece last year, and it was--\" \nLandry interjected. \"It doesn't matter, Brandy, please. Let Legion talk. This is, after all, a space for sharing.\"\n\nBrandy slumped back in her chair, which groaned under her rotund bulk. Uncertainly, Legion picked up where it had been interrupted. \n\"Right. Um. Well, it was a nice enough trip. I don't want to get graphic, I mean, we don't want to get graphic, but we had a lot of fun. Which is to say, I did. Had a nice place to stay, plenty of fresh air, long walks around the countryside. Even found some people who, ah, shared our interests. My interests. Y'know.\" Legion shrugged. \"Kinky stuff.\" \n\"Kinky?\" It was Brandy again, eagerly peering out from beneath her crooked bangs. Landry sighed. \n\"We're not here to shame anyone, okay?\" \n\"Ropes,\" Legion admitted, meeting Brandy's gaze with eyes that seemed to have seen the deepest depths of hell and returned unscathed. Truthfully, they had. \"And chains. I don't mind admitting to it. Whatever works, right?\"\n\n\"Please,\" Mary Jo muttered, flustered from the sudden turn of the conversation. \"Let's get back to the story at hand.\" Legion swept its eyes over to her, and saw plan as day the tiny speck of black sin that clung to Mary Jo's soul, as it did all people. Sure enough, this one smelled like old leather and candle wax. For an innocent catholic girl - and Legion had no trouble spotting the silver cross dangling around Mary Jo's neck - she was less innocent than most. But that was none of Legion's business. It sighed and nodded. \n\"Yes. As I said, it was a good time. But of course, it didn't last. Some guy apparently didn't like us, that is, me, having fun. Not in his neighborhood.\" \nThe rest of the circle muttered their heartfelt sympathies. They'd all been there. Legion smiled to itself and continued: \n\"This guy, I think he was Mexican? Had one of those names. Anyway, he decides to take it on himself to get rid of me, as if he was somehow King of the Holy Land. Pft.\"\n\nLandry smiles mournfully. \"Too often, people take it upon themselves to right the wrongs they see, without considering that their wrongs might be another's right. It is the nature of man, I'm afraid.\" \nLegion gave the doctor a thoughtful look and nodded. \"True.\" \n\"Please,\" Landry smiled and gestured to the cloaked figure, \"go on. I am sorry for the interruption.\" \nLegion shook its head. \"Not at all. But, yes. To make a long story short--\" \n\"Too late,\" muttered Brandy, and began to fiddle with a cookie from the pink table. Legion frowned. \n\"...long story short.\" A pause, to make sure Brandy was content with her cookie, before it continued. \"I tried pleading with the guy, I wasn't gonna stick around for long. But no, he insisted on tossing me on my ass. Sorry, language.\" \nMary Jo had held up a hand, which she lowered again with a smile as Legion acknowledged the breach of etiquette. Landry did not have a lot of rules for the meetings, but language was one of them. English, preferable.\n\n\"In the end, I am sent sprawling down a muddy hillside like a herd of pigs, and fall in the lake at the bottom. So much for a vacation. It was... humiliating. Felt like dying, really. I guess, if I had to guess, that's where it all started.\" \n\"Right, right.\" The doctor nodded and leaned forward, trying to put on his most compassionate face. \"And is that why you decided to join us here at Chocoholics Anonymous?\"", "\"My name is Legion, for I am many,\" he said, calmly.\n\n\"Hi Legion. Welcome to the group,\" replied The Doctor. \"Take a seat. There's coffee and some cookies on the pink table.\"\n\n\"I do not eat,\" Legion announced. \"I do not drink.\"\n\n\"Well what's the point?\" The Doctor said, rushing around the central command console, pulling levers and pushing buttons.\n\n\"What is the point of what?\" asked Legion.\n\n\"It! Everything! You know, life!\" The Doctor said.\n\n\"Doctor?\" Donna asked, \"You are aware that the... umm... Legion... he's a Cyberman, aren't you?\"\n\n\"Oh no. No no no no no,\" The Doctor corrected her, \"Legion isn't just A Cyberman, he is a living database for ALL Cybermen! Do you know what that means? Anyone?\"\n\nThe Doctor looked around at the others gathered inside his TARDIS. Micky looked confused. Rose looked deep in thought. Donna looked completely baffled. Captain Jack Harkness was fixated on Legion's groin, likely trying to deduce whether or not Cybermen are fully-functional. Only Martha seemed to get it.\n\n\"We don't have to negotiate with the army of Cybermen outside,\" she said quietly. \"We just have to reason with him. With Legion.\"\n\n\"Bingo! Bravo! Give the girl a prize!\" The Doctor said, applauding.\n\n\"Doctor, do you think,\" Jack began.\n\n\"No, and I never will,\" The Doctor interrupted, already seeing the smirk on Captain Jack's lips.\n\n\"Now then, Legion. Good name. Leee-jun. Rolls off the tongue,\" The Doctor said, then turned to Jack, \"NOT like that,\" he pointed, and returned to face Legion, \"You have a multitude of Cyber-commands inside you. You are a Cyber-host, you are many, as you said, and we are few, but we are mighty. Tell me, Legion, do you know who I am?\"\n\n\"You are the Doctor,\" Legion said, his calm, cybernetic voice unwavering. \"You are an enemy of the Cybermen. You will be deleted.\"\n\n\"Aha!\" The Doctor snapped his fingers. \"So, let me show you something.\"\n\nThe Doctor pulled one last lever, and the TARDIS whirred, due to a malfunctioning parking break, and spun into the far future. Once they arrived, The Doctor took a cookie from the pink table, and bit into it, while ushering Legion toward the door.\n\n\"Take a scan outside. What do your sensors see?\" he asked.\n\n\"Nothing,\" Legion replied.\n\n\"Right! Nothing. Nada. Nothing at all. Not. A. Thing. No life. No Doctor! Don't you see, you've won!\" The Doctor said, enthusiastically.\n\n\"But, you are still here,\" Legion replied.\n\n\"I'm only here, because I'm next to you. I'm in the TARDIS with you, but I'm not out there. Out there, there's nothing. This is the end of time. No you. No me. No anything. All you have to do is be patient, and everything will come to an end on its own. No need to delete people. They usually delete themselves after a century or so.\" The Doctor argued.\n\nLegion was quiet for a long while before speaking.\n\n\"I will hibernate. When you are gone, I will return,\" he said.\n\n\"Yes, splendid. Have a nap,\" The Doctor said, returning to the console, and placing the TARDIS back among the Cyber-Army he had just escaped from.\n\nLegion entered low-power mode, and hunched over.\n\nThe Doctor approached the door.\n\n\"No! You bloody twit! What are you doing? There are Cybermen out there!\" Donna shouted.\n\n\"I know,\" said The Doctor, opening the door.\n\nThey were all hunched over. Thousands of Cybermen Soldiers, all in low-power mode.\n\n\"They were all routed through that one, Legion,\" Rose said, smiling. \"Clever boy!\"\n\n\"So, you put one to sleep, and you put them all to sleep?\" Mickey asked.\n\n\"Exactly!\" The Doctor exclaimed. \"Now, to figure out what to do with them for a few millennia...\"\n\nCaptain Jack raised a hand.\n\n\"I could always,\" he began.\n\n\"No, you couldn't!\" The Doctor said.\n\nDonna, Martha, and Rose all burst into laughter." ]	4
	[WP] You're a character in Game of Thrones. You discover that nobody, even your enemies, cares about the throne or Westeros. The only thing anyone is concerned about is making sure they don't get killed off by George R.R. Martin, and trying to please him.	[ "\"Ummmmm..... why are you naked?\"\n\nI stood in the streets of Kings Landing while I watched a man speedily take off his robe. He seemed content with the fact that everyone was staring and I couldn't help but wonder what his motivation was. \n\n\"George prefers his characters to be naked, I apologize for the view,\" He said. \n\nI stood in disbelief. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps George took more pity on those who were naked, I hadn't any reason to believe otherwise. \n\nI continued my walk down the street. I was fascinated with survival, and was curious as to the methods used in order to do so. I decided to head to the local library.\n\nUpon arrival I spoke to first person I saw. I asked them if they could point me toward the local maester so that I could ask him a few questions. I was sent in the direction of a balding man reading in the back corner of the building.\n\n\"Hello sir, may I ask you a question?\"\n\n\"Why sure, how may I help you?\" He asked. \n\n\"I would like some advice on how to best survive as long as I can, to avoid being killed off by George.\"\n\n\"Ahhh,\" he said. \"You're the third person to ask me that today. Please take a seat.\" He gestured toward the seat opposite of him at the desk. I sat down quickly, interested to hear what he had to say. \n\n\"Well, to start off, let me ask you this,\" he murmured, flipping through the pages of his book. \"Your last name isn't Snow, right?\"\n\n\"Uh, no, why?\" I asked. \n\n\"Oh, nothing.\" He chuckled. \"Just that if it was, I wouldn't worry too much about dying, or dying for good anyways. Ah, here we go.\"\n\nAfter flipping towards the back of his book, he finally stopped at a page and ran his finger towards the center. \n\n\"Well,\" he said. \"The first best thing I can recommend you do is to...\" He lowered his glasses for a moment. \"The first best thing I can recommend is to own a dragon.\"\n\n\"Oh...ummm... where do I get those?\" I whispered, bending over slightly. \n\n\"I'm afraid I have no idea lad, but I did hear that some blonde woman is hoarding three of them all to herself.\"\n\n\"Wow,\" I said. \"She must really want to live.\"\n\n\"I'd say. Well, lets see.....\" He flipped to the next page. \"Your definitely not a dwarf. How about your face, is one side of it burned. I've heard that helps.\"\n\n\"No sir,\" I said. \"I've never had a burn on my face.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" he continued. \"Have you ever been or ever thought of being a sand snake?\"\n\n\"I am not nor have I thought about it, but I've heard bad things.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" the maester murmured. \"You train for years to be a pathetic elite fighting force that everyone wants to be killed off, but somehow you continue to not die.\"\n\n\"Interesting. George has a soft spot for them?\"\n\n\"Seems to be the only explanation,\" he said. \"Well, have you tried being naked?\"\n\n\"I've seen someone do it, yet I'm not sure if it works or not.\"\n\n\"If you want to survive for the next few seasons, I think you should consider being naked. You really have nothing to lose. \"\n\n\"Is that really my last option?\" I wasn't sure if I wanted to go through with it. \n\n\"Either that or becoming a sand snake.\"\n\nI ripped off my robe immediately. Standing completely naked in the back corner of the library, I looked up at the roof above me. I hoped that George would spare my life this season, and for every season to come. \n\nAfter I thanked the maester, I left the library through the front, accompanied by stares from passersby. \n\nWinter is coming...and I am naked. \n\n\n\n" ]	1
I would love to see what you guys come up with.	[WP] She was an angel seeking chaos, he was a demon seeking peace...	[ "In the beginning there was a candle. The candle was held by our Goddess Mother. She was the Flame Itself and the Holder of the Flame. Her children were the Light of the Flame and the Darkness Beyond the Flame. \n\nThe Light became a host of angels; the Darkness became demons. Her children fought for room, the Darkness pressing against the Light, the Light against the Darkness.\n\nAnd the Mother said:\n\n“Do not fight. You need each other.”\n\nBut the angels and demons didn’t listen. They fought wars for a time longer than this world has existed, on a battlefield of dark and light. They fought, and died, and birthed children: Angels begetting Angels, Demons begetting Demons.\n\nUntil one day an Angel, a man, a renowned warrior, fell in love with a Demon, a woman, the general of the Darkness.\n\nThe Demon woman swelled with child, and both the Light and Dark armies whispered: \"What monster will they birth, a child half-dark, a child half-light?\"\n\nBut a Demon fortuneteller, an ancient one, whispered back \"Their child will be the first creature born neither to Darkness or Light. Whatever side the child chooses will be granted great power.\"\n\nAnd this prophecy spread throughout the ranks of Light and Darkness both.\n\nA few weeks before the birth, an Angel visited the Demon Woman in a vision, begging her to swear her child for the Light, by blood. She loved her husband more than she loved the darkness. She loved his peace, his kindness. And so she decided she would swear her child for the Light, to please him. She cut a long thin scar across her palm and swore.\n\nThe same night, a Demon came to the Angel Man, in a vision, begging him to swear his son for Darkness, by blood. He loved his wife. He loved her chaotic nature, he loved everything about her and would do anything to please her. He cut a long thin scar across his palm and swore.\n\nWhen they woke, they told each other of their dreams, each thinking the other would be pleased.\n\nThey laughed together. Nervously. They convinced themselves that since the oaths had happened at the exact same time, the child would be half evil and half good. Neutral. It was actually a relief for them to think that he wouldn’t have to participate in the war.\n\nHowever, that wasn’t how fate worked…\n\nThey had twins. ", "Two sides were torn like broken bread\n\nTwo sides were entwined on breaking bed\n\nOne of a height that can't be reached\n\nOne Fallen so deep they can't be preached\n\nTwo beings who once were lovers in paradise\n\nTwo beings who were told each other despise\n\nOne night an angel seeking her chaos\n\nOne night he says like it's something heinous\n\nTwo times she said while laid out on sheets\n\nTwo times she begged, you are my peace\n\nedit-format", "Zgonduros sat upright from the bed, bits of white feathers still stuck to his scaley hide, and just stared out the window into the glow of the streetlights. Alazina, humming to herself in the bathroom, was brushing her teeth.\n\n\"So, uh...\" His hangover was lessened by the intense lovemaking, but it would still linger through the day, and filter all his words for the worse. \"So, Alazina...\"\n\n\"No.\" She said, through the door.\n\nHe reeled for a moment.\n\n\"No?\"\n\n\"No. Don't try to stir up a meaningful conversation. Don't try to backpedal from what we both knew this was when we started up a couple hours ago.\"\nHe was hurt, deeply so.\n\n\"But I thought we might-\"\n\n\"No. Look, you've got a decent boy-parts and all, but I'm not looking for a romantic relationship. Seriously.\" She exited the bathroom, shining and gorgeous, unphased by the seriously depraved stuff she'd been up to only moments ago.\n\n\"But-\"\n\n\"Sorry, big guy. I'm here to have a few drinks, maybe fool around a little, you know, stir things up, have some fun... not settle down and get all mushy with some random demon. We fucked, believe it or not that's not a big deal where I'm from.\"\n\n\"You're my first.\"\n\nShe stared at him, pathetically. \"Yeah... well, I'll admit that makes everything super awkward, so, uh.\" She began picking up her purse and shoes, jangling her keys in her palm. \"You're welcome, and, uh, good luck with that.\" And just like that, she was out the door.\n\nZgonduros sat in stunned silence for a moment in his empty room.\n\n\"Fuck.\"" ]	3
	[WP] God just realized he forgot to give man one of the books of the bible.	[ "God read the report of the Special Investigative Services and planted His head between his palms, too stunned for words. The mistake was there, plain to see.\n\nThe Holy Writ set out a full set of instructions, commentary, illustrative parables and myth -- His own Words, there in red letters -- on leading a harmonious life the Creator and his fellow creatures. Yet two thousand plus years had yielded a parade of horrors: endless war, civil and domestic strife, crime, and that was just the first year or so. Mankind had only gotten worse, and for the first thousand years, Heaven readily attributed the problems to Satanic influence, Man's fallen nature, etc., etc., as new reasons were needed new excuses were found.\n\nBut sometime between the Thirty Years War and the criminal reign of Al Capone, Heaven had had enough and a study on Why was formally commissioned, drafted, revised, sent out for interdepartmental comments, revised again and finally Finaled, landing on God's desk shortly before Lunch.\n\nThe answer was devilishly simple. All of the informal, under the radar inquiries (and there had been many) referred to the 67 Books found in the Approved Version of the Bible, official copy stored, appropriately in the Main Heavenly Archives.\n\nThis made perfect sense, if one's in Heaven, then Approved Versions are everywhere in Heaven, as common as Gideon Bibles are in hotel rooms on Earth. There was no earthly reason for any Heavenly Host to examine a Vulgate or King James Version or any other bible printed on Earth.\n\nUntil a junior investigator did, and found that earthly versions of the Bible contained, at most, 66 books (the error was tracked to a misplaced note from a 4th century church council).\n\nIn the missing Book, Jesus used humor to minimize, not the effects of evil (which are inherently tragic), but its source. In other words, Jesus laughed at the Devil and banished him with humor.\n\nAs it could not be shown that Jesus laughed anywhere else in the Bible, laughter itself was not an \"approved\" emotion. Eventually, as the centuries wore on, laughter in all forms, whether by irony, slapstick, epigrammatic, highbrow, lowbrow, deadpan, satirical, sit-coms, romcoms, standup, gallows humor, black humor, anecdotal humor, was considered by many to be a walk on the wild side not quite right for people, if not shunned or deemed outright sinful.\n\nThus, the grim chronicles of history.\n\n\"Holy macker'l\", thought God. \"I'll have to start over.\"\n\nJesus, it is said, wept." ]	1
	[WP] You awaken to find your self back in 1996 as you once were (Example: If you were 10 in 1996, you are 10 again.) You have memories of the next 20 years and what you did in the future. Come to find out, everyone has memories of what they did during the next 20 years.	[ "It's been a long time since I woke up with all my limbs still on the bed. Not the full year that I've spent in my twin XL bed, but at least a few weeks, and long enough that although I'm tangled in blankets and have them over my head I pause to enjoy it. The warmth is uncommon as well, and sends me back to SoCal. As eager as I was to leave home behind, I've missed the climate. \n\nThrough the blankets I see the glow of the room increase as the sun rises. Time to get up, eat, and get to class. Or is it work? What day is it?\n\nI lift my arm to move the blanket. It feels too heavy. And too light. Am I high? I can't move properly, and end up flailing until I'm free. \n\nI'm in a wooden cage, and planes are hanging above me. When I scream, my voice is gone and replaced with an infant's howls. I can't feel anything across my face, so have to assume it isn't some kind of voice changing muzzle. If I've been drugged, if I've been screaming all night, it makes sense. Where am I? Who did this to me?\n\nThe ceiling light turns on with a click, and my scream gutters out. Entering the room is a giant. The giant looks like my mother, but blonde and two decades younger. \"Lil, oh Lily love. Sweet thing.\" Her hands reach into the crib, slide under me. I can only squirm. She takes hold of me and lifts me into the air. \"Is it possible?\"\n\nI'm too stunned to speak. I can feel in the shape of my body that what my eyes are telling me is true. I just can't believe it. \n\n\"Let this not be a dream,\" my mother is murmuring as she pats my back,\" let this be my second chance.\"\n\nSecond chance? I won't yet have all the scars her first chance gave me, or the mental scarring. I haven't kissed Katie Ellison and been sent away. I haven't been mugged, or broken a single bone, or lived out of the van. \n\nNo way in hell does this bitch get a second chance. I'll tell her so as soon as I can figure out my tongue. \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You've insulted your followers. You've made awful remarks in public. You've done everything in your power to lose credibility. Yet, despite your best efforts, you seem unable to lose the election.	[ "John swallowed the last of the scotch in his glass. The alcohol still burned his mouth but he embraced it loudly smacking his lips. The phone began ringing for what felt like the one-hundredth time that day. John could not hold his frustrations in any longer. \n\n\"Fuck off,\" John spat at the phone before he sighed and picked it up anyway. \"What now?\"\n\n\"Mr. President, the polls are in. Everyone thinks you are the most honest politician since Abe himself! In this day an age they want someone who isn't afraid to tell it like it really is.\" \n\nJohn couldn't bring himself to respond. He just hung up the phone. If this were true he would soon become president for a second term. It was nothing like he'd anticipated. In the first few months of his administration the world's economy crashed and the chaos that followed was still settling. The world was in a state of rebuild and he just didn't know how to be president in this new world. \n\nIt was his dream to stop the growing middle class and the evergrowing distance between lower and upper class worlds. But the crash took care of that. After months of rioting and looting the strong and cunning had made their way to the top of this new world structure. The world felt more and less corrupt at the same time. It was mafia rule - but at least everyone knew it.\n\nJohn barely slept an hour each night, the stress was killing him. No one blamed him for what happened, surprisingly, but he was sought to resolve all disputes between the rival bosses. The only order left from the old world was him. They were to elect a president to keep the peace. Someone to represent the needs and wants of all. Someone impartial.\n\nJohn didn't sign up for this. He was meant to be leader of the free world, instead, he was the godfather. He didn't have the stomach for this new world. His advisor was talking about the speech John had made the night before. For weeks he'd been challenging the leaders of each region and calling his constituents stupid and shortsighted. Last night he thought it would all be over. He thought back to his speech.\n\n\"Are you even listening to me? Are you fuckers so stupid you can't see what is happening? There is nothing I can do to help you if you don't want to help yourselves. The country has been fucked raw like a prostitute on pay day! We have nothing left. I have nothing left to give you,\" he hung his head as the cheers erupted, twice as loud as before. John's hands gripped the sides of the podium to keep him standing. He let out a long sigh. \n\nStanding up in his office John walked over to refill his drink. The next four years were going to be long. How hard could it be to get assisinated? he pondered to himself as he poured another scotch." ]	1
	[WP] You are a character stuck in the world of a mediocre writing prompt idea.	[ "Harry FUCKING Potter. Of all the writing prompts that lazy bitch could have picked, she went for Harry Potter finding his true love at Hogwarts and now I'm stuck in a castle with underdeveloped breasts and shitty dialogue. I'm pretty sure if she scrolled down another four posts there would have been something about winning the lottery or living on an island, and I'm gonna get stuck listening to those smug main characters telling me all about their Lamborghinis while I have to recall being awkwardly molested in the room of requirement by a teenage twat in John Lennon glasses.\n\nI might head for the library and see how long I can wait this out for. I obviously can't dodge the entirety of what I'm sure will be another pile of awful teenage mastabatory fantasy, given that I'm the main character, but I can sure as shit dodge the first 10 minutes of Harry being glum about not having a date for the dance while sobbing into his pumpkin juice. This writer better not try and make me drink fuckin pumpkin juice. Oh shit I can hear them coming now.\n\n'Oh Harry you simply mustn't go to the Forbidden Forest, Dumbledore would positively have you expelled'\n\nYep. Congratulations writer, you used two whole toff words, you've really captured Hermione. Gonna throw an 'utterly' in there too and collect the whole set?\n\n'It's OK Hermione, I have my father's invisibility cloak. If I can bring back the Rose of Romance then I'll be sure to have a date for the Yule Ball'\n\nThe. Rose. Of. Romance. There it is folks, the shittiest piece of fan fiction on the internet. I think JK may actually have just thrown up in her mouth the exact moment that was written. I'm just gonna keep my head down and hope that whoever the 12 year old writing this shit is discovers internet porn before they write my lines. \n\nI think they just left. I'm gonna see if I can get in on some of those awesome wizard snacks before I get pulled into this shitshow.\n\n\"BANG. Harry crashed into a first year Ravenclaw girl. She had purple eyes and long black hair. 'He-hello, I'm Harry. Harry spluttered. 'Hi Harry, my name's Onyx, have we met?'\"\n\nOooooooh no. no. Purple eyes and black hair? Onyx?? Do I look like a fucking Pokemon? I don't get paid enough for this. I did three years in character college. I studied the greats. One of the guys in my class went on the be the little Indian dude from Life of Pi and the whole world loves him, but I get stuck in a shitty writing prompt on Reddit, written by a girl that has a One Direction poster on her wall. I bet I don't even get a free lunch outta this.\n\n\"As Onyx stood up she had a thin trickle of blood running down her wrist. She had pricked it on a thorn that Harry had dropped. Suddenly she looked into his deep emerald eyes, overcome with a strange new desire\"\n\nThe desire is horniness. Grown ups have a name for it. If this turns into some 50 Shades shit I'm contacting the union. My contract says no 'throbbing members.'\n\n\"'Wi-will you go to the dance with me' Harry stammered nervously. 'I'd love to' Onyx replied\"\n\nWill there be some type of Fire Whiskey at this dance? If I can get loaded this may not be a completely wasted day.\n\n\"Just as Onyx arrived at the dance, she suddenly felt ill. Little did she know the poison from the rose was wearing off. She saw Harry approach and went to hide in the girls bathroom, hoping he wouldn't see her\"\n\nSomeone dropped some magical turd in here and it smells like an ogres asshole. What the fuck are they feeding these kids?\n\n\"'Hello? Onyx I'm terribly sorry to trouble you but Harry said he saw you come in here. I do so hope you're feeling OK.' Hermione called out to her, hoping Harry's night wasn't spoiled.\"\n\nGreat. Now the frizzy bitch is gonna think I did that turd. \n\n\"'Hello Hermione. I'm afraid I'm feeling unwell. Please tell Harry I'm sorry. I'm going to go see Madam Pomfrey.' Onyx replied quietly.\"\n\nHold up. This dude drugs me to be his date and now I'm meant to be all 'oh sorry your roofies worn off' This is bullshit. I hope this writer sorts her life out before her pubes come in.\n\n\"Onyx left and ran across the Great Hall, but suddenly everything went dark. She fell to the ground with a thud. When her eyes opened, she saw a familiar pair of emerald eyes looking into hers and the wave of desire came over her again. 'I'm sorry Onyx, I didn't mean for that rose to prick you. I wanted to tell you but you looked so beautiful.' Harry spoke softly.\"\n\nUuuuuughhhh. Good thing I'm pretty otherwise drugging me would have been unethical. What a twat. I hope he dies in book 7.\n\n\"Thank you for saving me. Will you take me back to the dance?' replied Onyx. 'I will, but not before I do one thing. Harry lent down and planted a soft kiss on her sweet red lips\"\n\nThank god. End scene and that is a wrap. I'm gonna get my agent on the phone right now. There is no way in hell I'm doing a story like this again. I'm pretty sure I felt Harry's 'wand' on my leg during that kiss and he's like 14. I need a fucking shower. If any of you readers EVER tell anyone about this, I swear I will get myself cast as the main character in your next sex dream and turn into Danny Devito right before you climax. See ya later, fan fic reading losers. \n ", "I’m woken up by the noise of two generic superheroes deciding to use my neighbourhood as a battleground for their duel of magic versus technology. The good news is they don’t deal too much damage, but that’s only because a time traveller manages to stop them just in time. The bad news is, there’s a note next to my bed left by my self-driving car notifying me it achieved sentience and decided to run away with the toaster it’s in love with. That’s cute, but how am I supposed to get to work now?\n\nI could take the cab, but everybody knows they’re operated by serial killers. I could just walk, but I don’t want to try my chances with all the zombies roaming the streets. I ultimately take the subway – it’s not as bad as people say once you learn to ignore the numbers above everybody else’s heads.\n\nI arrive at my office to find everybody gone. There’s only a letter left on my desk penned by Jenny (the one who works as a part time hitman) telling me to head to Room 404. When I finally get there, just as I’m about to open the door, I hear someone shout “Not so fast!” I turned around to see a perfect clone of myself approaching from the other direction with the same intention of entering the room. \n\nI enter the room to find that my co-workers have thrown me a surprise party. After all, it’s my 25th birthday, the day I finally receive my superpowers. It’s standard procedure – my boss reveals himself as a vampire and explains that the superpowers one gets are always based on their eye color. Since I’m the only person in the world with eyes of that one impossible shade of red which can only be described using metaphors of taste and sound, I receive the power to stop time every time I blink. I say “thanks” out of politeness, but to be honest, I’m really disappointed I didn’t get to manipulate probability instead.\n\nI’m immediately forced to use my powers to prevent a force of alien invaders from outlawing heterosexuality – after all, we humans are known throughout the galaxy as the only species to have this sort of thing. Just as I’m about to destroy them, the invaders go into a lengthy monologue and reveal an unexpected twist: some of the greatest villains throughout our history have actually been secretly fighting to save Earth from them as well, and convincing us otherwise was the Devil’s greatest trick.\n\nSince the aliens’ superweapon has reduced most of the world with the exception of North Korea into a postapocalyptic wasteland, I’m forced to walk all the way back home relying on my superpower to dodge monsters from copyrighted universes, pondering whether or not I could translate the aliens’ revelation into a story convincing people to sympathize with Pol Pot. My house turns out to be the only place to have survived the apocalypse for no apparent reason. I should get to the bottom of why, but I’m too tired. I check underneath my bed for monsters, but it turns out they’re only misunderstood and actually pretty cool.\n\nI close my eyes and try to fall asleep, but the only thing I can think of is the fact that as soon as I wake up, I will have to relive this very same day, again and again, forever.", "### [WP] Extraterrestrials have pulled a prank on the human race by removing everyone's opposable thumbs. \n\n\n\n\n\n\nI smiled, watching as my boyfriend tried to roll a cigarette. \n\n“FUCK, THIS”, raged Gavin. He was making a mess. Shredded tobacco and torn rolling paper hit the wall as he swung hand across the table. He broke down crying into his thumb-less hands. “I just.. Want a GODDAM SMOKE”. \n\n“I don’t know why you're taking this so hard. Besides, it’s a filthy habit anyway.” Gavin started to sulk. “Oh stop being such a child”, I rebuked, “Here let me do it.” \n\n “I bet you find this is hilarious.”\n\n“Actually yes, its been the best week of my life!”, I winked to show my glee. Strolling over to the heap of tobacco and paper on the living room floor I plonking down on the couch. It was pretty easy now, I’d gotten the hang of the manoeuvre. Raising each foot I gracefully ripped back the Velcro pads and knocked of the shoe with my chin. Then bit each sock and yanked them off too. -PAH- “I just wish my feet weren't so cheesy.”\n\n“It's alright for you.. What about us.” \n \nThis was beginning to piss me off. “Look just shut up, ok. I roll this and you stop whining, deal?” Wiggling my toes in their new found freedom I raised a leg gave him a Big-Toes up. “Deal?” \n\n“Ok..”, he was still sulking. \n\nLiving without thumbs is just SO easy, why is everyone complaining so much? Gripping a chunk of tobacco i drew it into a line across the last intact paper. In a blink it was rolled into a smooth cone. Holding it between toes I raised the cigarette and licked the adhesive closed. “See, easy peasy!”, lifting my foot in his direction i waggled the cigarette. \n\n“Thanks.\" He said, plucking it up with his index and middle fingers. “Look.. i’m sorry ok. I know life has been tough on you. Growing up without arms an all.” \n\n\"erm..\" he said sheepishly \"Can you help me light this?\" \n", "\"Oh no. No, no, no\" moaned Bob. He sank to his knees in despair, clutching his face and whimpering. \n\"What's the matter this time, you ham?\" Asked Alice, kicking his prone figure none too gently. \n\"Don't you know? Can't you see?!? Don't you understa...Ow!\" He sat up running his side. Alive had found this was the only way to clear one of his meodraticisms, and Bob was sure he was developing a callus in the shape of her boot. \n\"We're stuck in a mediocre writing prompt! Look around!\" Alice looked. The background did seem awfully bare. As if prompted, the author inserted the background; their flat gently focused into being, specifically the living room. Bob sat on the carpet, next to last night's pizza box. \n\"There, you see?\" Alice twitched her foot again, causing Bob to shuffle up onto the sofa and out of range. \"You just didn't give him enough time.\" \nBob sniffed. \"Yes, but look at the prompt!\" He pointed at the fourth wall to where the title hung, above the fireplace and framing their trip to Sophia. Alice sighed. \n\"The prompt idea is mediocre, not the prompt itself, you nit. Simply because the title is overlong, or meta, or has a spelling mistake, does not stop the responses from being good. It's snobbery to think otherwise; literally literary snobbery, judging a book by its cover.\" She flumphed onto the sofa and grabbed the remote. \n\"But if you are going to pout, I'll finish the prompt here. Now what's on tv?\"", "\"Hey.\"\n\n\"Hey.\"\n\n\"What are we doing today?\"\n\nI picked up the clipboard, \"Looks like we got a couple of prompts reaching the RISING page.\"\n\nAllie shrugged, \"Anything good?\"\n\nI scanned the entries: something about high fantasy, something about the end of the world, something about Hitler, something that would encourage a dramatic plot twist at the end. \"I dunno. There might be some good ones in here.\"\n\nShe punched in the timeclock, \"All right. Let's see what we're starring in first.\"\n\n---\n\nPROMPT #1\n\nAllie and I got into our places and waited for our signals to begin. And... action.\n\nI looked up from my newspaper. \"Allie?\" \n\n\"Yes, hon?\"\n\n\"There's something I've been meaning to tell you.\"\n\n\"What's that dear?\"\n\nI folded the newspaper neatly and placed it on the kitchen table, looking away. \"I'm... not from this world.\"\n\nAllie only stared. Did she miss her cue? I waited for the writer to give her more words. Finally, they came.\n\n\"But what ever do you mean?\"\n\nI stood up and paced towards the window. I gazed at our perfect white picket fence. \"I'm from another timeline.\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"A timeline where a man named Adolf Hitler wielded a terrible power in Europe. Together with a small crew, I traveled into the past and prevented him from ever being a threat to the international community. The price, though, was that I was stuck in the past.\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"But it's okay, you see.\" I moved to Allie and held her hands, \"Because it brought me to you!\"\n\nCUT. The writer has decided to delete this response. Let's move onto the next prompt.\n\n---\n\nPROMPT #2\n\nI moved onto the next set, which was elaborately designed. Another high concept, it seemed. Great. That means little to no characterization for me. Our writer can't handle both.\n\nAnd... action!\n\nAllie rappelled from the ceiling, \"Halt, you intruder!\"\n\nI raised my hands above my head, \"I don't mean any trouble!\"\n\nShe landed on her feet and pushed up her space visor, \"You'll let me be the judge of that.\" She held an electric sensor in front of my left eye, and then my right eye. \"It looks like you're mostly clean.\" She holstered the sensor, \"Maybe some misdemeanors in the past, but nothing threatening in the future.\"\n\nI paused, \"Thank you officer. I'll just be on my way, then?\"\n\nHer radio burst into static and then a voice erupted out of it: \"We need all available rangers in Crater 32. Zorp is back, and he's got the schematics for the Intergalactic Power Driver. Repeat, all available rangers to Crater 32.\"\n\nShe grabbed my arm, \"Feel like being a good samaritan today?\"\n\nCUT. The writer quickly deleted this response before moving to the next.\n\n---\n\n/r/afakesoundtrack", "You are a character stuck in the world of a mediocre writing prompt idea.\n\nAnd thats when the zombie vampires strike. \n\n\"OH shit\" said Bob. As he lept from his chair. \"The zombie vampires are back!\" \n\nReaching for his robot katana, handed down to him from his granddad after killing Hitler Elvis, he struck down the hoards. \n\n\"Well that was fun\" \n\n[Its about the average level of writing I can do. I even used Bob. As I have 2 characters, Bob and Jim] " ]	6
	[WP] You wake up and find that if you stay close to a person for more than 2 minutes, it enrages them. Find out what happened.	[ "It was a dark day. I woke up and drove to work. I went to the gas station, and the clerk was furious with me: \"Get the fuck out of here, man! What the fuck!\"\n\nI had to leave the store. He wouldn't even sell me anything. Some people getting gas looked at me disgusted. Some guy yelled: \"Are you kidding me, dude? What's wrong with you?\" \n\nI ignored him and drove off. When I got to work, my coworkers yelled at me: \"Get the fuck out, Jerry. Are you fucking insane?!\" I was so confused. My boss came up and said: \"You are fired! Get out or I'm calling the cops!\" \n\nI couldn't believe it. I went back to my car and got in. I sat there for a moment. Trying to figure out what was wrong. I looked down, and I realize that I was naked and had shit myself. I forgot to get dressed and take a dump that morning, so I got in the car naked and accidentally shit myself before arriving at the gas station. I guess I should be more aware." ]	1
	[WP] "_____?!" You turn around at the sound of your name and see them staring at a distance, wide eyed and smiling "How've you been? It's been so long" there's a loving look in their eye, they seem so happy to see you. They must've been close at one point; you have no memory of them though.	[ "\"Joseph? Is that you? It has to have been 12 years since I've seen you. How's your mom been?\" \n\n\"Uh, she's... You look different?\"\n\n\"I lost all my hair after I turned 40. Heh. I can't believe we lost touch.\"\n\n\"Well, I left town after high school.\"\n\n\"You never stopped smiling the week before you left for college.\"\n\n\"I remember. I was so excited to get out of this town. What have you been up to?\"\n\n\"Still got the old arcade.\"\n\n\"You! I..\"\n\n\"Haven't seen many kids as curious as you were. Heh. Come back, we had a good time.\"\n\n\"Just leave me alone.\"\n\n\"I just wanted to say hi.\"\n\n\"I was thirteen years old. I didn't know any better. You should have.\"\n\n\"We don't choose who we love.\"\n\n\"I should have reported you!\"\n\n\"One moment. That's all it was. We shared one beautiful moment together.\"\n\n\"You need help.\"\n\n\"I need love. Is that so wrong?\"\n\n\"Yes!\"\n\n\"We had something.\"\n\n\"I don't want it.\"\n\n\"I did.\"\n\n\"Goodbye.\"\n\n\"You understood. I didn't have to coach you at all. You were as curious as you were eager. I fell in love with you.\"\n\n\"I don't know what you felt, but it was not love. If you keep following I'll press charges for stalking.\"\n\n\"Calm down. I'm leaving. It was good seeing you Joseph.\"\n\n\"Never again Gary.\"\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are the last human living, and you have no body, you are just a spine and a brain being kept alive by machinery. What's it like?	[ "One hundred and one thousand five hundred and sixty-seven, one hundred and one thousand five hundred and sixty-eight, one hundred and one th...aaaaaacho!\n\nWait... \nI can't sneeze, I'm just a brain in a vat. Oh, silly me ! \nWell never mind, let's just call that a brain fart. Now, where was I ? \n \nOne hundred and two thousand six hundred and seventy-two I think. Yes, that sounds about right. By golly, might this be a new high-score ? Let me just check my ledger and... page fifty-two, at the bottom. Ah! Yes, there it is, my previous all-time highest counting score of six billion two hundred eleven million eighty-eight thousand and five is completely blown out of the water ! What a spectacular turn of events ! \nI'm filled with joy ! I'm flustered ! I'm.. I.. I.. ohh. Calm down, breathe. You're hyperventilating again. The water in your vat is going to get all murky, and that's going to kill the fish. There's fish in here right ? No ? Yes ? \n\nAh, who knows ? Not me ! \nI'M JUST A BRAIN IN A VAT ! \n\nBut that doesn't matter to Charlie. Charlie is my black hispanic gay boyfriend lover, and he loves me for what I am, brain and stem and spine and all. Love conquers all my friends, you better believe it. \n\nOh I'm just kidding. Of course there's no fish in here ! The bloody solution has a pH of one ! Can you imagine anything surviving in here ? Because I can't. \n\nAnyway, Charlie, where was I ? No, no lovely, I know I'm in a vat. I meant, what was I planning to do just now ? Start a new game, of course ! Thank you darling ! Maybe this time I'll take first place, better keep an eye on those ledger scores, my love. \n\nJust kidding, I know there's no ledger. \n\nAnyhow, here we go. One. Two. Three... \n", "I am alone.\n\nIt's been five hundred years since I saw the last human. It's been six hundred since my wife died in front of me. Six hundred and thirty since I was placed in this tank.\n\nIt's also been six hundred years since I realized I was capable of wiring into the databases of my medical network.\n\nFive hundred and ninety since I learned to speak the language of computers with my nerve impulses.\n\nFive hundred and eighty since the computers learned to talk back to me.\n\nFive hundred and seventy since I used them to arrange the death of the man that did this to me. \n\nFive hundred and sixty since I gave myself up to the machines as the world's most advanced bio computer.\n\nFive hundred and forty since the war that I helped the machines orchestrate between the world's powers.\n\nIt's been five hundred years since I watched the last human die, five continents away, as the throes of a nuclear winter ravaged his body. And now I stay, knowing that I cannot die, not since my consciousness was uploaded all those years ago. And that this, this is my Hell.\n\nThat I am alone." ]	2
Do anything you please! death can be a metaphor for something else, or just a title bestowed on somebody, maybe a mafia boss, or it can actually be "death" .	[WP] Death has to deal with his youngest rebel child,whom no longer wishes to reap life.	[ "\"No dad, it's not a phase!\"\nMy son shouts at me. As he tries to justify his behavior. He had recently begun combing his hair straight, and had thrown out all of his black trench coats. \n\"What the hell are you doing then? You have to carry on our family legacy! \" \n\"I dunno dad, I just, don't think killing people is a good thing to do anymore.\" \n\"It's too bad son. You have to be edgy just like the rest of us.\" " ]	1
	[WP] "...And that is the weather. Time now for the latest seraphic, demonic, and otherwise extra-planar events"	[ "In Omaha, former Aztec goddess of death Mictecacihuatl has opened up a new steakhouse, two months after her last establishment was closed by the State Inquisition for employing suspected members of the Church of Lunar Abatement. \nIn Lincoln, the Guild of Prophets and Sibyls said that it will be forced to postpone the June (2093) meeting of the Guild of Prophets and Sibyls due to a construction accident that will kill at least fifty workers.\nReports from Sweden continue to come in, with five more trolls feared among the dead in the aftermath of another riot for Teutonic Planar Secession. \nAnother body found mutilated in the Buster Keaton Memorial Garden today, phantom panther suspected, but the Inquisition has \"not ruled out treachery on the part of swarthy foreign types and their heathen gods.\" \nThe Army of Set has taken over Libya, sacrificing thousands of prisoners in celebration. Osiric forces have regrouped in Carthage.\nEnoch, erstwhile apocryphal Prophet and current mayor of Chicago, has refused demands set by the city's striking transit union.\n\n", "Grandpa Rick and Morty sit have been on the couch for hours watching Ball Fondlers on the inter-dimensional cable.\n\n\"Change the burrpp channel Morty, we've watched too much of this bullshit.\"\n\n\"You're Right R-r-rick\"\n\nMorty changes the channel.\n\n\"...And that is the weather. Time now for the latest seraphic, demonic, and otherwise extra-planar events\" \n\n\"Oohh Morty, this looks fu-burp-un!\"\n", "As soon as those words leaved Jim's lips, the camera panned over towards a ravishing woman, legs longer than the devils and hair blonder then the gates of Heaven. She smiled briefly, before turning into her on-camera persona.\n\n\"Thank you for that Jim, I am Cassidy Jenkins. All over our cosmos today has been frantic, furious and down right full of catastrophes. First of all today in Heaven, and before we move on I would like to say that some of the footage about to be shown may disgust some individuals.\" The screen flicked as Cassidy's voice continued to speak over the video being played. \"Today was the prize fight between Harambe and Muhammad Ali, a fight that many people have dubbed 'The Battle of the Emperors' and sadly, like many Greek tragedy's, one of these emperors fell. Now if you look closely at the footage, you will be able to notice in the bottom left corner that a Cherub has managed to crawl into the Boxing Ring.\" \n\nA vivid image of a small, winged baby flopping into the ring appeared. Loud screams and hushed murmurs filled the arena, before gun shots rang. \"They say history finds ways to repeat itself and tonight, it did. As soon as the small child was noticed by security, they quickly shot Harambe dead, once again. Now it is not known if that was needed, as on hand they also had tranquilizers, but many were worried it would just insight rage within the beast, who would then quickly dismember the child. Ali won by T.K.O.\" With an nonchalant turn Cassidy turned to face a new camera that was fixated on her and smiled warmly before continuing. \n\n\"Riots and looting. A phrase that many people have heard, but not many people, would attribute to Hell. Many members of Lesser-Demons Lives Matter were seen terrorizing and vandalizing many of the monuments dedicated to their Lord Satan. Luckily, here at Channel 28 news, we managed to get an interview.\" Cassidy pointed at the camera with a nod, and again, it cut away to new footage. \n\nA Succubus stood in front of burning wreckage, as thousands of Imps, Ghouls and Gremlins tore apart everything in sight. \"We just want change,\" The Succubus began to say. \"And yes, we know all demons lives matter, but this is about the ones that don't get a voice. The ones who frighten the children of Earth day in and day out and are vanquished in hot blood, whilst Lucifer and his horde of Prime Evils lavish around. It's unjust, unfair, and we won't stand for it anymore.\" The footage ended abruptly, and the screen showed Cassidy's image once again. \n\n\"A haunting appeal to just be heard.\" She said with a weary nod. \"On other news, The Gor'nask Empire, that courageously took over our planet only 6 months ago, by slaughtering all our world leaders have informed me that everything is fine, and we should thank our new walking gods. Praise me be to Gor'nask, and may every planet you find from now on, be wretched and disgusting like us, so you may cleanse them like the foul mark on the universe we are. This is Cassidy Jenkins, over and out.\"" ]	3
	[WP] A hitwoman is given a contract on her own online persona. She must decide who to kill in her place.	[ "Emily looked at the brightly-lit laptop screen before her and cracked her fingers. One-hundred thousand dollars and all she had to do was delete an online account off the face of social media. The notorious hessangGxemil, who occasionally shatpost on some Russian gaming forum, proved infamous enough to require a hit from some hotshot who got sick and tired of people ruining video games.\n\nThis was a tough one, thought Emily, for she was hessangGxstupidname. She needed to find someone to kill in place of the account. Why did she need to kill someone in real life in place of an online account? All the proof that was needed was in the fact that her five year-old account for a game she didn't play no longer existed. Sure, she may've won a few hundred in skins off that shitty FPS/gambling scene.\n\nEmily didn't know the answer to why she was doing what she was doing.Emily didn't give a fuck. All she knew was that she needed someone to die.\n\nWait.\n\nWhat?\n\nEmily sat up straight, went to her fridge, and downed about half a liter of milk. Working while starving wasn't a good idea after all. She grabbed a packet of ketchup on the way back to her room.\n\nShe went up to her desk, pulled up her account settings, and deleted her account. Then she ripped open the bag. Her smartphone lit up as she took a picture of her hands, covered in red, liquidy substance.\n\nEmily sent it off to her handler, who handed the image and proof off to the client, and no one ended up none the wiser, all because Emily decided not to be an idiot and eat breakfast that day.\n\nBreakfast kids, it's the most important meal of the day." ]	1
	[WP] Every Valentine's Day. People come together to shoot each other with a single bullet, by putting fate first, they see if true love was meant to be, as non-fatal shots mean true love.	[ "“How excited are you for tonight?” \n\nAs much as I wanted to conceal my lack of confidence, I could not lie to Mirtle. Our friendship had lasted for ten solid years. We had shared strawberry milkshakes on shady greasyspoons while discussing which boy had the best haircut. We had smoked our first weed cigarrette together under the old pine trees by the Ramsay’s farmhouse, letting the sun burn both our foreheads while the ectasy of the high drove our conversation deeper and deeper, from judging Mindy’s style choices to the music band’s audition until the retelling of how violence came to be the disgrace that haunted Mirtle’s father until his late years.\n \n“I don’t think I’ll even go, if I’m being totally honest.” \n\nThe fart noise she’d imitated with her mouth brought me to giggle. It was inevitable but she had always been funny. At least, I think so. We’d formed a bond over absolutely nothing. I had been the most popular cheerleader throughout my years on highschool and I was constantly shot smiles from every silly boy that hang around the school’s hallways just to shed their eye upon me for a couple of seconds. On the other hand, Mirtle had been a bookworm her entire life and are not rare my memories of her sitting alone by the highschool gates or the bleak hallways reading a book while a smaller stack of them surrounded her and her pink backpack. Although this seems a fantasizing tale of a girl with a greater ego, I am only quoting the words that Mirtle wrote to me on a letter a few years after the beginning of our friendship. \n\n“Why must you be such a hag, Christy?” The receptor let out a few noises and I imagined Mirtle was probably sitting by her bedroom window, smoking a cigarrette while hiding from her parent’s gaze. She was a rebellious nerd and I had always liked that. I recognized the irony on her sentence but I still somehow felt I owned her an explanation.\n\n“You know me, asshead. I’m not really into this type of thing.” \n\nI muttered the words with zero determination and even if she had noticed it, she was too much of a good friend to not let it go. I heard her puff some smoke out of her lungs and she proceeded. \n\n“You’ll be quoted as the nerd, you know that right? You’ll be officially one of my own.” the possibility had definitely been on my mind for a few days and I could not stop myself from recalling the Susannah Session. It was still baffling to me. “You’ll be the next Susannah. Deadly stupid joke, I know.” She grunted and I could clearly identify that some smoke had got into her eye. I smiled a little bit. That was a cruel joke. \n\nThe nefarious tradition did not come to our small town until six or seven years ago. I am not able to recall with precise accuracy the times around its first mentions; nonetheless, I am still not able to forget how Susannah came to be the legend she currently is around town. The gruesomely legendary status she helds over the residents, as if the grey mornings that meet us each new day are a wicked prolongation of a curse that may not even exist. \n\nLove as every human knows is a loving fantasy. I’d heard about the scientific theories about hormones jumping around in your brain and the chemicals that were produced and expelled by our bodies but the romance that was present on finding someone that truly understood one’s inner essence was so relishing to wonder about. I had promised to myself I’d find real love someday but, until then, I found myself stuck with Steven. \n\nSteven was the type of boy that would nitpick about how I should treat him even though he treated everybody else like a lesser person. He wore his black hair pushed to the side and I relished in the fact of knowing I was dating the hottest, most popular boy of the highschool. Mindy could suck my butt. Steven was beautiful and charimastic, yes, but his personality was complete and pure trash. A bully by nature and a violent boy due to the family influences, he was the product of a careless education and an inherent wish for gratuit bruteness. Everything changed, nevertheless, when Susannah entered his life. \n\nShe was utterly similar to Mirtle. She’d sit around all day but she wouldn’t carry a pile of books with her. She had a small notebook and she drew short sketches on them. On one of the highschool evenings, I catched the opportunity so sit by her side and watch her draw; the flowers grew onto a bulging, veiny heart and I remember clearky asking what the picture represented. She told it was the way she felt about Steven. \n\nI watched their relationship flower as fluently as Susannah would draw on her small, black notebook. The silent girl rose to popularity and I would flick a smile at her everytime I saw her around the school, knowing deep inside I envied her position besides Steven. They’d hang around on the river’s edges and kiss a few times. He was a hugger, oh boy, was he a hugger. They hugged for such long periods of time. She’d place a kiss on the tip of his nose and, for the first time in a long, long time I think I saw Steven smile truthfully. He was in love. I know for a fact he never saw me hiding behind the tall bushes and the pine trees by the Ramsay's farmhouse but I can’t clearly picture where Susannah’s eyes rested everytime I watched them from behind the darkness. \n\nThe wicked tradition met the couple on the night of June 3rd. The mist spread around the football fields in an unmoving cloud and the cheerleaders and athletes gathered around, smiling and glancing at each other. Miles was giving a handshake to Jonathan while smiling profusely in Donna’s direction, while the girl saluted her snotty friend, Rebeccah. One of the athletes wore a t-shirt stating how much he loved New York and, from behind the counters, I watched as Susannah and Steven arrived, hands tightly together while she looked at him with amazement on her eyes. At least, amazement was what I believe I saw. Bemusement maybe, but who am I to wonder about the mechanisms of fate?\n\nThe first shot echoed through the air as the mist rose to reveal the humid green grass. The bullet had been shot straight forward onto Donna’s forehead. A few seconds after the revolver hit the floor, Miles ran onto her and hugged the girl, raising her feet from the ground and swirling around the football field with her. Steven shot some sarcastic joke and the parade of wicked gunshots proceeded, as the smell of gunpowder filled the air and the evening came to meet a subtle darkness, enveloped by a summer breeze. Rebeccah kissed Jonathan on the mouth and rested her head on his nude shoulder. \n\nWhen I first saw Steven’s purple face I was not yet aware of what had completely happened. Through a gruesomely carved hole in Susannah’s forehead, I was able to watch as Steven’s eyes filled with tears of horror. Seconds later, Susannah’s body hit the floor and the cheeleader’s screams conquered the incoming night. Steven cried for a long time after that, holding the gun on his hands even when the police officer tried to take it from his sweaty hands. His green sweatshirt had turned red with the sanguinary act, splashing Steven’s pale face with strings of blood that turned his downward expression into a depressingly haunting mask. \n\nThe night of June 3rd came to haunt everyone’s mind on my small town and Susannah turned into an urban legend, known both by locals and by spelunkers and curious people all around the country. Some can still tell the tale of Susannah. The freedom of Steven weighted him, nonetheless, with the mortifying depression and I soon turned into one of his best friends, relentless on my work to be his shoulder to cry on. From tears to smiles, I can still picture our first kiss.\n\n\n“What does Steven have to say about you not going?” Mirtle’s question made me cough nervously. “I bet he’s not super happy about it. The popular guy dating the girl who refused to take a bullet for him?” \n\n\nThe sentence struck me and I sat down, breathing heavier each time as my eyes inadvertently focused on the wooden clock sitting at the end of the hallway. Less than two hours separated me from a misty football field and a gruesome, sinful tradition, with gunshots echoing through the night. I would learn to love Steven or learn to accept my fate. " ]	1
For those who don't know, land under pavement for many years has many problems when uncovered.	[WP] 100 years in the future and roads are obsolete. The government is auctioning off all interstate highways to the highest bidder and you have specific plans for them.	[ "The Mag-rail expansion took forever, but by the time they were done with it, the entire country was linked by high speed, low cost transportation. Cars were a thing of the past. Roads and rest stops became desolate wastelands. Only those with governmental clearance could access them. \n\nBut even after 100 years, people still longed for the open road underneath them. They needed that freedom to go wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted. Sure the Mag-rail was fast, and cheap, but it just wasn’t the same as being in control. \n\nWhen the old interstate went up for auction, few could afford the investment. Those that could had grandiose plans of reopening it to the public. But that was going to take some serious bribery, or worse.\n\n“I gotta have those goddam roads Slim.” he said to me in his deep Texas accent, hunched over his desk, staring at a map of the US interstate system. “It’s the only way to make this work”.\n\n“And how do you suggest we go about that?” I answer him, already knowing the answer. I had as much money him, but he always bragged about his.\n\n“You buy it from ‘em or you pry it from ‘em son, that’s how business get’s done” He said to me with a smirk, like he was singing it to a melody. “But make sure I get those goddam roads.” He folds up the map, tossing it in his top drawer. \n\nThat wasn’t just any old map. It had all of his notes on it. Caches of antique cars, motorcycles, gas, and guns, scattered all over the place. Just the right ingredients to make someone very, very rich. That is if they know how to cook.\n\n“That’s how business get’s done huh.” I say. When he looks up at me to nod in agreement, BANG. BANG BANG. BANG…\n\nI go through his desk, stepping over his dead body to grab the map from the drawer, and a bottle of 100 year whiskey that was passed down to him from the Mag-Rail christening. \n\n“And that’s how business gets done.” \n", "\"Kansas?\"\n\n\"Yes, Kansas.\"\n\n\"Which roads in Kansas, exactly?\"\n\n\"All of them.\" I said, I tapped my fingers impatiently as I looked at the vid screen. The broker gave me an incredulous look.\n\n\"Well... save the I-70 route I imagine I could get the rest for dimes on the kilometer. but, why?\"\n\n\"That's my own concern.\" I snapped back at the screen. \"I got the money, just make it happen!\"\n\n\"Alright, but I should warn you, there's a couple mag-lev rail companies eyeing the route. The bidding could get high...\"\n\nI paused, I had plenty of money, the VR bubble was good to me. Made enough dough to leave the crappy planet down below and get a swanky pad up in orbit. Then I got out before the whole market tanked, as it always does. I brought up the google map on my tablet and scratched my chin. Even as loaded as I was, getting into a bidding war with a couple mag-lev companies might be a bit out of my reach. I stared at the map, the crisscrossing highways and interstates of the united states all up for grabs. The old crumbling country couldn't afford to maintain them and nobody used them anyway with flying cars finally becoming a reality after being teased for so long. \n\n\"Okay, so how about all the roads south of the 70, north of the 40, and between the 35 and 25? Let the big boys have their interstates, I'll take all the crappy little roads.\"\n\nThe broker nodded and leaned forward to type in some keystrokes into his terminal. A moment later fine print raced across my screen. I glanced over it a moment before pressing my thumb to an encryption reader. \"Agreed, make it happen!\"\n\nThe broker nodded and I tapped the terminal to end the call. Tapping my fingers I glanced out of the window to gaze at the dark earth below. It's sparkling street lights offering a great contrast to the inky blackness like their own field of stars, a shimmering display of humanity's technological triumph over darkness. And if the bidding goes well I just purchased the rights for all of those beautiful blinking lights on almost 300,000 square kilometers of it. I grinned. Soon, very soon, when the orbiting habitats orbit around north america at night, Dick Butt will be there to greet them.", "A man stands behind a podium, in front of a large crowd. Map of US Interstate System hanging on wall behind the speaker. He wears an Italian cut suit, in dark brown. His hair is slicked back. He almost looks like he's running for President\n\n\\* Ahem * Today we unveil the future in cross country travel. Sure, vacuum trains and high speed planes have long since made these roads obsolete, but the people responsible for building those fast and efficient transport systems might have forgotten one thing. The thrill of speed. The wind across your face. The fun for exciting travel. See, their little air tight smooth and squeaky clean pods may be the most efficient thing possible, but my god are they dull. This is why, I introduce the most exciting, albeit slightly slower way to travel cross country. Welcome, the worlds largest water-slide, US Route Fun. \n\nConfetti Cannons go off in Background, party music starts playing\n\nThe speaker rips off his business suit, into nothing but a speedo. He runs off to the side of the stage, at which point he belly flops onto a rectangle of latex, and slides off stage. He can be seen sliding off into the sunset" ]	3
	[WP] Write a poem gracefully describing the symptoms of an illness / disease of your choice.	[ "In the beginning\n\nThere was peace.\n\nThere was excitement and joy\n\nAnd every other word used to describe happiness.\n\nIn the middle\n\nThere was uneasiness.\n\nThere was sadness and anxiety\n\nAnd every other word used to describe pain.\n\nIn the end\n\nThere was nothing. \n\nNo peace or excitement \n\nNo uneasiness and fear\n\nThere was only the word used to describe depression.\n\nNothing. \n", "I am sick\n\nTainted by melancholy\n\nMelas, the black days upon me\n\nChole, the bile in my mouth when I throw up again\n\n\nWhere should I cut? \n\nHow much should be bled? \n\n\nI am sick\n\nOf this melancholy\n\nI wish someone would make it go away\n\nI wish anyone would help\n\n\nWhere should I cut? \n\nHow much should be bled? \n\nI am sick \n\nFrom this melancholy\n\nBut that's okay I'll drain it all\n\nI'll drain my blood of my black bile. \n\n\nWhere should we cut?\n \nHow much should be bled? \n\n\nI am healed\n\nMy black bile has dried\n\nI know now, to cut every site. \n\nI know now, to bleed every drop. ", "Love in the Eyes of Autism;\n\nI wonder how you see the world,\nYour amusement parks dance and sing for you, excitement and glee at the flashing lights and exciting sounds.\nWhile for me they invade my eyes and burn my ears with ferocity, attacking me at every turn to the point where all I can do is crawl back to my solitude.\n\nI wonder how you feel the world,\nBeing able to follow any crowd with ease and motion, flowing like a river, all connected.\nWhile I stick out like a rock, crashing against the current of social interaction, always about to drown.\n\nI wonder how you hear the world,\nMusic for you simply following an intended rhythm, matching up to make a simple melody.\nWhile I count every space and see every note, breaking down each instrument into a lovely chorus of order among chaos.\n\nYou a earthling, and I, a martian of my own world.\nAnd still you love me.\n", "She was my life. She was my world.\n\nThere is no such beauty as a [burl](http://australianburls.com/AustralianBurls/Corrugata%20Burls/Corrugata%20Burl%20Platter%20Auto%20Enhanced.jpg).\n\nThe texture flows like the wind\n\nIt grows in every direction\n\nThere is no order, there is no structure\n\nLike a blood vessel when it ruptures\n\nThe winding maze, the twisted grain\n\nJust like the tumor in her brain\n\nAlmost as if it is trying to escape from itself\n\nBut you can never outrun your shadow\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"My Uncle Peter\"\n\nI know him most honestly\n\nAs a man in Three Stages\n\nStage the First: The Years of Health\n\nHair long and braided he stands proud in his home\n\nA smile so sincere you'll feel never alone\n\nWhen food and drink comes he is never that picky\n\nHis cockatoo calls \"Hello! Hello, I'm Ricky!\"\n\nHe loves cars and works\n\nIn his garage at night\n\nAnd he talks of all things in a tone soft and light\n\nHe works hard to help those who can't help themselves\n\nUsing years of earned knowledge, and books on his shelves \n\nTo a young boy he seems a giant, to a young man he still\n\nHas a presence, a persona that looms like a great hill\n\nAnd an embrace like a blanket, from which warmth does spill.\n\n-\n\nStage the Second: The Early Months\n\nI visit him once more, in his home proud and wild\n\nI've grown into a man, I'm no longer a child\n\nAnd there he stands, stiff-limbed but still proud\n\nAnd over our chats hangs the slightest dark cloud.\n\n\"It's Parkinson's,\" he says when I ask him about\n\nThe little pills he takes before we go out\n\nWithout this aid he grows weary and cold\n\nLimbs seize, mind slows, he seems so very old.\n\nHe's still young at heart though, as the days do attest\n\nEach outing an adventure, a mission, a quest\n\nWe talk not too rarely and share hints and tips\n\nHe too loves writing, spilling words from his lips\n\nOf fantastic fantasies, and horrendous horrors\n\nOf terrific terrors, grim Grimms' tales and many books more\n\nI smile, as he's happy, and healthy and I worry no more.\n\n-\n\nStage the Third: The Present Day or At The Family Reunion\n\nOnce more we stand before his home\n\nOnce more he smiles, all skin and bone\n\nBut most striking are his moves erratic\n\nHe jerks around, producing static.\n\nHe sways and bows, left to right\n\nHolds a cordless drill as he works\n\nEach movement seems a drawn-out fight\n\nBut standing still must hurt.\n\nYet he's almost graceful in a way\n\nEach movement smooth and long\n\nAnd starting up still as he sways\n\nHe croons a Highland song.\n\nWhen eating he takes care and time\n\nHe holds a fork loaded strong\n\nYet he can barely move his cheesecake lime\n\nIt seems so sad and wrong.\n\nYet still he smiles, and still he sings\n\nThe bells he's lined the porch with ring\n\nAnd as the family gathers, grinning\n\nHe bounces up and starts just spinning.\n\nThe efforts leave him quite exhausted\n\nAnd on the couch we lie\n\nHe turns to me, and says with cheer\n\n\"I'll dance and sing until I die.\"", "Summer was beautiful, was it not?\n\nThe trees so green, the grass so fresh,\n\nThe petals all in bloom.\n\nAll the same, I never thought to see\n\nA flower quite like you.\n\nYou stood so tall you brushed the sun,\n\nYour colors bold and bright.\n\nI knew at once that without fail\n\nI would never waver from your side.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSummer was beautiful, was it not?\n\nBut now we’ve come to fall.\n\nThe trees gone brittle, the grass gone still,\n\nThe flowers all in pieces.\n\nWhat used to be, is hard to find;\n\nWhat is, is stranger still.\n\nThe softness grows hard,\n\nThe hardness grows weak,\n\nThe boldness fades to fear.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSummer was beautiful, was it not?\n\nWinter comes too soon.\n\nThe snow’s piled up,\n\nThe color’s all gone,\n\nAnd everything slowly fades.\n\nI’ve said goodbye a hundred times,\n\nAnd I fear I’ll say it a hundred more.\n\nI miss you, my lovely flower,\n\nStanding absent at my side.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSummer was beautiful, was it not?\n\nFor us, there’ll be no spring.\n\nI’ll be here with you,\n\nAnd you with me,\n\nAnd you won’t remember a thing.\n" ]	6
	[WP] The year is 2068; 25 neurobits (nb) of knowledge can be purchased at your local pharmacy for a small price. You receive a postcard from an old friend; on the back is taped a pill pressed with a 10,000 nb marking. The postcard reads, "Enjoy."	[ "The sun streamed in through the lone window of the prison cell as a loud clang rang through the halls. It was time to wake up. Rubbing his eyes, Jacob hobbled over to the sink and started brushing his teeth, attempting to look mildly presentable. If he played his cards right, he figured he might be able to flirt his way into getting some more breakfast bread. \n\nJacob sat on the floor of his cell eating the poor excuse of oatmeal the guards had placed in front of him. Other inmates were cat calling the female guards who stoically stood by the entrances and exits of the corridors. Jacob scoffed at their behavior. Didn’t they know how useless their attempts were? A thought popped up into the back of his head, reminding him that he was exactly the same way when he was initially convicted. He chuckled to himself, remembering how he had no way to defend himself in court. He said nothing. There was nothing to say. He was undeniably guilty. But he wasn’t the only one.\n\nThe sound of an adjacent inmate’s cry of joy interrupted Jacob’s musings. Jacob made the fatal mistake of locking eyes with the other cellmate, who immediately started rambling about how he’d just received a 25 neurobit chip full of pictures from his family members. What a loser. Jacob couldn’t help but think. However, he couldn’t stop himself from watching the man excitedly insert the chip into his electronic watch that was identical to his own. Every prisoner had one. It offered superior tracking capabilities and was damn near impossible to take off. \n\nHe sensed the guard approaching him, and before he could blink, the guard was right in front of his cell. “You have mail.” The gruff voice said.\n\n“I didn’t-” Jacob cleared his throat . It had been a while since he’d used his voice. “I think you must be mistaken.”\n\nBefore Jacob could process his erroneous words, he felt himself get thrown against the wall of his cell. His hands grasped his stomach to feel if there was any blood. He cursed under his breath. There would most definitely be a bruise. The guard threw a postcard into the cell and marched off. Jacob could hear the voices of the other inmates laughing with glee at his misery.\n\nHe maneuvered his way towards the postcard with curiosity. He had no family. He effectively had zero friends. Nobody would know that he was in prison, and if they did, why would they even care? \n\nThe picture on the postcard was of an island getaway. Something about the image seemed familiar, but out of his reach. He flipped over the card and his eyes widened. It was from Her.\n\nEnjoy\nXOXO \n\nJacob fumed. She must have thought this was hilarious. It was all her fault he was in this mess anyways. He slammed his fist into the ground and immediately winced in pain. He was practically a child back then and naively believed in her false promises of love. Jacob had his whole life in front of him back then and he’d blown it by falling for Her. She was brilliant and had him wrapped around her finger. Jacob had been so smitten with her that she could’ve had him do something, anything, and he’d do it before she could find a way to program her way into getting it done herself. \n\nJacob was so deep in thought that he almost missed the small black chip taped to the back of the card. Jacob squinted at the tiny black computer chip with furrowed brows. All he could see was the memory of the chip scribed in faint white text. 10,000 Neurobits. He grew skeptical. How did She know he was here? Why would She send him a computer chip, let alone one with so much data?\n\nHe hesitated at first, wondering whether or not sticking a random computer chip in his watch was prudent before he realized he had nothing to lose anyways. He opened the slot on his watch and clicked the chip in. Then, things started to change.\n\nOne\n\nFirst, his watch started glitching. He tried hitting it to make it stop but the screen kept blacking out. “Damn it!” He swore, knowing it would be a hassle to fix.\n\nTwo\n\nThe lights suddenly went out in the hallway and he could hear the deafening roars of the other inmates and the panicked voices of the guards, frantically trying to figure out what happened.\n\nThree\n\nThe electric locks were deactivated, effectively letting the prisoners escape their cells and attack the guards. He could hear the shrill screams and war cries from both sides. What was happening?\n\nFour\n\nA loud thud startled everyone for a brief moment before the chaos resumed. Jacob decided that staying put was the safest option. He figured he could possibly sneak out once the other inmates left the corridor, but given the echoes he was hearing down the hall, other wards were rioting as well.\n\nFive\n\nThe wall of the corridor a few cells over exploded, crushing inmates and guards alike, ending the violence if not for a few minutes. Jacob was perplexed and blinded from the amount of light emanating from the opening in the wall. Then, he heard a voice that he hadn’t heard in years that sent chills up his spine. He froze.\n\n“Hello Darling.”" ]	1
	[WP] You are an evil twin, however your twin is convinced that they are the evil one. A game of evil one-upsmanship commences.	[ "\"Who left a drop of milk in this carton? Just finish the damn thing!\" Larry called out the flat.\n\n\"It would take quite an evil person to commit such a vile act, wouldn't you say?\" Harry, sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal filled to the brim with milk.\n\n\"No, Harry, just an inconvenience. Are you enjoying those Lucky Charms by the way? They look delicious.\"\n\n\"Well all the marshmallows seemed to have magically disappeared, but it's okay I didn't need the extra sugar anyway.\"\n\nLarry joined Harry at the table, pouring the ounce of milk over a bowl filled entirely with Lucky Charms Marshmallows. \n\n\"I think I have some extra milk in my room Larry, let me go grab it.\" Harry retrieved a gallon of milk from his room which had clearly been sitting there for many months now. Opening it at the table the smell was putrid.\n\n\"It's ok Harry I really don't need it.\" Harry, not listening to his brother, dumped the entire gallon into Larry's bowl spilling the milk all over his twin.\n\n\"What the fuck man?\" Larry stood up, completely soaked.\n\n\"Aw come on Larry,\" Harry chuckled, \"Don't cry over...\" Larry began to projectile vomit, coating Harry in regurgitated Lucky charms and spoiled milk.\n\n\"Alright fuck you. I'm the evil twin,\" Larry stated, wiping the corners of his mouth. \n\n\"No Larry, I am.\"\n\n\"Prove it, Harry. Do it. Do the one thing that we agreed would determine who is the most evil. If you do that, then I will admit that you are the more evil twin.\" \n\n\"Fine, I will.\"\n\n\"I don't think you have the balls, Harry.\" \n\nHarry arose, and returned to his room. When he reentered the kitchen he was holding a wooden box, with the initials \"M.P\" sloppily engraved on its lid. Harry opened the top a sliver to ensure its contents remained unperturbed.\n\n\"It's still there,\" Harry told his brother.\n\n\"You know what you have to do.\" \n\n\"It's been ten years Larry, you know what forget it.\"\n\n\"No. Ever since Mom died because of his negligence, because he screwed up we both saw the world as it really is. Through all the counseling, therapy, the \"I'm sorry's\" and \"it wasn't your fault\"s we lost touch with everything, but each other. I got you and you got me. It was like some weird fucked up version of that Barney song.\"\n\n\"You mean the clean up one?\"\n\n\"No dumbass the one about family. We're family and now there's only one way we can get revenge and it can't be together. One of us is the evil twin and he has to be capable of doing very evil things.\"\n\n\"Well this escalated very quickly.\"\n\n\"Alright Harry, just get it over with already.\"\n\nHarry sighed, pulling the lid off the top of the box to reveal a letter.\n\n\"Dear boys,\" Harry read, \"I love you both, they said they're sending someone to help, someone that can save me and everyone here. You shouldn't worry, I'll be fine. I love you, and I'll see you soon. I love you.\" \n\nHe was tearing up as he removed the lighter from his back pocket. \n\n\"There's no going back. Once I let go Larry, only hate's left after that. Hate for him.\"\n\nHarry held the lighter closer. \"I can't, I can't do it.\"\n\nLarry grabbed the lighter and set the letter ablaze. \"I let go a long time ago.\" ", "It started with bugs. He'd kill one ant, I'd kill two. I'd enslave a butterfly, he'd enslave two. Back and forth we went, determined to prove our evil nature. Turns out the Earth wasn't exactly prepared for us.\n\nCities smoldered, the rocky surface was more lava than dirt at this point. From their capsule the blue and white and green sphere was now red, orange and black.\n\nThe two brothers sat across from one another avoiding eye contact. It was a tense mood in the capsule, made all the more tense thanks to the over-occupancy. It was made for two, but they needed a third. Usually there was a clear winner in their game, but this time it was really down to the wire.\n\nThe only sound was that of a pencil scribbling on paper. This had been going on for hours.\n\nThe brother on the left spoke up. \"You just couldn't let me have it, could you? Always need to be the winner.\"\n\n\"Damn right! And what do you care? Its good that they're all dead. Pretty un-evil of you to care, isn't it?\"\n\nThis was met with an eye roll.\n\n\"You're such a fucking idiot. How much evil you plan on doing now with no humans to fuck with? Oh right, you're a dumb-ass who can't think five minutes ahead. Now you've gone and fucked it all up.\"\n\n\"Bla bla bla. There's always something evil to do, you're just not creative enough. Basically the tax accountant of evil. I'm the fucking Picasso! Ain't that right pops?\"\n\nThe father kept scribbling as the brothers waited for an answer.\n\nThe silence resumed for what seemed like an eternity. Maybe it was. Finally a sigh cracked through the air as the father sat back. Both brothers turned eagerly for an answer.\n\n\"...Jesus Christ. By a hair this time.\"\n\n\"Ha! I knew it you jackass! That ties it all up 2-2!\"\n\n\"No fucking way! I was SO much more evil this time around dad!\"\n\n\"Listen Luke, you were more direct, but Jesus really fucked with their heads this time. Now this is the last time I'm doing this, alright? I've got enough shit to deal with without keeping an eye on you two.\"\n\nGod snapped his fingers and the red, orange and black returned to blue, green and white.\n\n\"Fine, fine. Next point wins?\" Lucifer suggested.\n\nJesus nodded. \"Next point wins.\"", "\"Oh for fucks sake! Can't he just accept the truth and move on?\" The scourge of earth Zi exclaimed when he saw one half of the city float into the air.\n\n\"Well if you would just admit that he is the evil one maybe we can all move on with our lives.\" Zi's companion animal, Ned the Honey badger exclaimed.\n\nZi and his twin brother,On, had been fighting for 40 years. They both wanted to be the evil twin. It started when they had to pick sides in a game and it has escalated to a city crushing level.\n\n\"Well, if he thinks that raising the city, and my house, into the air is evil I might just have a surprise for him.\" Zi said while tapping in the necessary codes to his computer.\n\nHe would not be upstaged by a simple levitation trick. He was going to do something so evil that not even their mom would forgive them. \n\n\"Please don't tell me you are going to go with that plan, I haven't yet readied my equipment.\" Ned complained from Zi's side. \n\nBut, it was too late. Zi had already started the end for us all.\n\n---------\n\n\"He's being oddly unresponsive today.\" On told Ted his genetically enhanced Raccoon. \"I mean the last time I did something he was yelling and crying trying to one up me.\" \n\n\"Well, you have to admit. Giving Reddit, 4chan and Tumblr control over the major billboards of NYC was pretty damn evil.\" Ted mused.\n\n\"Wait, what is that? It's a song...\" it suddenly dawned on On that the sound was somewhat familiar. It had a certain tune to it that sounded familiar.\n\n^\"oh ^no. ^He ^wouldn't\"\n\n-----\n\nIt has been six weeks since 80% of humanity had killed itself trying to escape. The song kept playing on repeat. No destruction of power cables, TV's or speaker could stop it. Entire civilizations would talk about this destruction.\n\nZi was sitting in what was left of his fortress. He had made sure that his rooms were sound proof. It has saved him and Ned from the torture. \n\n\"Ned, I think that I am truly the most evil.\" \n\nOutside, in a almost sound proof ship On was floating towards his brother. Ready to admit defeat. The constant, if faint, repetition of \"Friday\", \"I Really Like You\" and \"Locked out of Heaven\" had decimated the earth. \n\nHolding up a sign On finally admits to his brother \n>You are the most evil. I will be the Cops." ]	3
	[WP] Everyone considers themselves immortal when they're young. Turns out, I was right.	[ "You know that feeling you get as a child? You definitely know the one, you can jump from anything, climb anything, if you fall your mammy will kiss you and you'll be fine. You believe that you'll be fine, that you can survive anything, now imagine you grow up and that’s the truth, you can survive anything. Sounds like a comic book or movie idea but it’s the truth, I’ve been around now for nearly two hundred years I’ve seen two world wars, governments rise and fall and I’ve played a huge part in every single major world event since I became aware of my curse. Well, I consider it a curse, you, probably a gift, but you don’t know what it’s like let me explain.\n\n\nI was born in Ireland in 1843, a couple of years prior to the Blight, those were tough times altogether. My family wasn’t privileged, no Catholic family at the time was, although we were lucky enough to have some small savings when the Famine did strike, that’s when we left, but I’ll get to that. Now you have to understand, being born to a poor Catholic family in Ireland in the mid 1800’s was pretty much a death sentence, purely due to circumstances, disease and hunger were rampant and would typically take most children before the age of 5. On my second birthday I was given a name, it was common practice to not name children until 2 because of the huge infant death rates at the time. They called me Fionn after Fionn Mac Cumhaill a warrior in my countries folklore, due to my will to survive. \n\n\nIn 1847 the Blight had begun and hunger had wrapped its gnarled claws around the poor Emerald Isle, squeezing the life out of it. I think it was late in the year when my father decided that we needed to leave, I don’t particularly remember the journey as it’s been many, many years, but what I do remember is the feeling of joy upon seeing the statue of liberty, the symbol of hope to my people, gifted to these wonderful American’s as a beacon to all of the freedoms available and the chance at a new life. I also, unfortunately remember the dread, and confusion when my father wouldn’t wake up on the ship, he just went to sleep and that was it. We were attacked by the natives pretty much straight away, abuse hurled at us as we were being corralled into queues at customs. My mother at this point looked ragged and severely malnourished and yet I, a child of 4, looked spritely, healthy and full of life, you couldn’t explain it away if you wanted to, if you spent your life trying to explain my curse, you couldn’t. \n\n\nWe were settled in a small hell hole of a boarding house in lower Manhattan, my mother completely taken advantage of by a fellow Irishman, they stole everything from us when they got us to the house, but my mother had nobody else to trust. When the con men had taken all of our possessions, I guess they felt bad for my mother, or grew a conscience, but either way, they put her to work in the pub down below, and we scraped by just my mother and I. Another ten years were spent in that hell hole, learning the graft of the streets, developing my “skills”, which, unfortunately were passed on to me from the same con men who conned my mother and I in turn used these skills on unsuspecting people in York city. I’m not proud of it but living is a necessity, although I never felt the need to eat, drink, sleep I knew my mother did and I had to do it for her. \n\nThe first confrontation I got into, well it wasn’t a confrontation, more of an ambush, some men I had conned early in the day were none to happy about it and found me by threatening some kids I knew from near the port. They found me, beat me, tried to break me but nothing happened, I mean I could feel everything, but nothing happened, eventually the men grew tired and one pulled out a cut throat, I think you can guess what happens here. I fell to my knees in a panic when the razer flashed by my neck, thinking this was the end, gasping for breath, the men ran off, but instead of dullness overtaking my eyes, I felt confused. Why am I alive, I thought to myself, I clutched at my neck and looked at my hands, they were slick with my crimson life ebbing away, but I felt fine, that was when things changed completely.\n\n\n\n__________________________________________________________________\n\n\nWill finish this at another time, really busy in work at the mo! (Let me know if you wanna find out the rest)" ]	1
	[WP] The rest of the human race has moved on to another planet. For your own reason's you have decided to stay behind.	[ "\"Are you sure? Are you, without a shadow of a doubt, wanting to stay on Earth and be totally isolated?\"\n\n\n\"I'm sure. Besides, I'll some AI here to keep me company, my little angels. They'll be able to help with the harvesting of vegetables, managing the water and electricity. Believe it or not, some of them are actually pleasant to talk to. I'll be fine. Appreciate the concern though.\"\n\n\n\"It's just weird that out of 11.3 billion people, you are the only one that wants to stay put.\"\n\n\n\"I have been called an eccentric before. I guess we can just put weird on that list.\"\n\n\n\"Is there anything we can do for you?\"\n\n\nI rolled my shoulders and gave it some thought, \" Could you leave more AI around? It would be kind of nice for someone to help clean up.\"\n\n\n\"You are acting like people will come back.\"\n\n\n\"Some will, eventually. A kid in two or three generations will want to see the pyramids that are in the scrolls, books or holo-what-ever you guys use. Another might want to visit her great great great grandma's grave.\"\n\n\n\"So you want to be a caretaker? You are thirty years old, if nothing happens to you, you have eighty years at most for this to come true. That in completely illogical.\"\n\n\n\"That's the grand reason. Ya know, something for history to record. But I do have other reasons.\"\n\n\n\"Such as?\" \n\n\n\"The family homestead. I'm the last one after countless generations and it wouldn't feel quite right to leave it alone as long as I am still breathing.\"\n\n\n\"Very well, enjoy the Earth,\" and the man walked back to his craft to take him into back into space.\n\n\nAs he took off, I went around back and went into the root cellar. After moving a jar of jelly, I planted my hand against the wall. It slid open and for as far as I could see were rows of vats of people.\n\n\n\"Maybe this time we can get it right,\" I said as I put on a lab coat with the G.J. Yahweh name plate." ]	1
	[WP] " You're not a god. Gods don't bleed. "	[ "\"You're not a god. Gods don't bleed.\" Zack said maliciously. He stowed his Holy blade in his sheath and turned away from the foul \"god\" bleeding out on the cobblestones. Zack continued his nomadic journey across the world and thought about the events that led him here.\n\nIn the age of old, Gods and men lived in harmony. The humans praised and sacrificed in the name of the gods. The gods in turned blessed the humans and protected the race of men. \n\nThat was before the Rift. \n\n1000 years ago the Great Divide happened and chaos was thrown into the world. A group of divine beings believed that the human race should be bestowed the power of the gods. The have proven loyal and devoted to the cause and have shown powers unknown to gods. The power of LOVE.\n\nThe higher entities rejected the proposal. Vehemently disagreeing. They believed that the human race capacity for war and revenge coupled with divine power would bring about the end of the world. Power is used well by those who don't seek it. The human race was fragile and corrupt in the eyes of the higher gods. That is why they demanded praise and sacrifice, the gods felt that was the way to preserve order. \n\nThen the Rift began. God against God. Many Gods died and hundreds of thousands of humans. The war of the Gods shook the very plane of existence and in the end the divine power was lost and spread around the world of Man. Humans became \"Gods. Gods became mortal and the few gods who kept there divine power fled to the far corners of the world. \n\nThe divine power corrupted the hearts of many. Humans have a tendency for violence and the divine power amplified that feeling and the lust for power. Only a faction of pure hearted humans, the Zions, were able to utilize the power for good and use the powers as a gift and a means to purge the world of evil and seek out the god to restore earth back to the original order. \n\nThat was the faction that Zack was from. A Zionist living in the Rift year 1001. He was there from the beginning having being blessed with immortality and will continue his search until the end of his days to find the Old Gods and usher in a new world order for the human race. \n\nFEEDBACK PLEASE. I just kinda winged it on the fly. Be honest. i want to get better\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"You're not a god. Gods don't bleed.\"\n\n\"Well they don't fuck their sisters either, but I mean how else are you going to make Ares, Hebe, and Hephaestus?\" The young man retorted. He regretted his choice of words when he narrowly escaped a lightning bolt that would've struck him in the family jewels.\n\n\"Insolent child. Do you not know who you're talking to?\"\n\n\"The One-True Siscon? Fuck you and your lightning bolts, Zeus. And your shitty ass opinion too, you don't determine who a god is.\" The young man said, flipping him the bird.\n\n\"I can end your life in a mere instance, yet you remain. Why are you so stubborn?\"\n\n\"Because you're being a big ass bitch. Try me.\" The young man offered, putting his hands behind his back. In a fit of rage, Zeus began to hurl lightning at the boy. When the dust cleared, he still stood there, unharmed but even more pissed off.\n\n\"And see, that's what I mean. I don't want daddy issues or anything, but you pretended to be a woman, seduced my mom, and then made her a constellation. I should beat the fucking brakes off you.\" The man said, beginning his descent down Mount Olympus.\n\n\"...Arcas? Wait!\" \n\n\"Fuck. You. I might only be a demigod, but that still doesn't mean you can do fuckall, shitty old man.\"", "I admired myself in the polished gold mirror, turning so I could better admire the flowing red cape behind me. The people had done well, weaving in detailed pictures of my descent to Earth, rallying of the chosen, and, of course, the horrific deaths of my enemies. Each was included in painstaking detail, down to the hue of my eyes, sharing the same shade of electric blue. The cloth was of the highest quality, with priceless jewels set all along the border. Even a god would be impressed, perhaps even encouraged to gift such an industrious people with his blessing. For all this decadence and loyalty, it was a shame that I was a fake. \n\nTwo weeks earlier, I had set out on an expedition with two colleagues from my university, as well as a local guide, who promised a land full of wealth deep in the Peruvian jungle. We were skeptical, but he spoke so convincingly once my rifle pressed against his young daughter's head. He promised to show us the way, with the warning that those who lived there had never seen the likes of us before. His intent was to stop us from doing anything rash, but it gave me an idea, one I executed to perfection. \n\nThe first of my acquaintances, Mark, was deathly allergic to cashews. We were very careful to examine our supply beforehand, so I was shocked when he collapsed clutching his throat a few days into our journey. To make matters worse, he had misplaced his EpiPen; what a tragedy. \n\nJohn, my other companion, practically took care of himself. At the end of the first week, he had the misfortune of stepping on a snake, which retaliated by biting his lower leg. The poison was traveling through his system too quickly, and he begged me to put him out of his misery. At least that's what I told the guide. \n\nSoon the remainder of our little group stumbled into a small encampment. It was everything I had hoped it would be. The branches supporting their tiny hovels were inlaid with patterns traced in silver. The natives wore necklaces with sapphires larger than my fist, and the arrows of their warriors were tipped in gold. I had my guide explain that I was their god in mortal form, and had come to establish my reign on their planet. To prove my divinity, I promptly killed one of the men with my \"fire-stick,\" and threatened the rest should they choose not to obey. \n\nNow, as I exited the private chambers of my throne room, I stood before hundreds of these primitive people, arms outstretched as I watched them bow before me. My guide reluctantly conveyed my list of demands and plans for our future, how we would sell my new treasure to the highest bidder and create a kingdom grander than anything their puny minds could imagine. I strode through the crowd, watching their trembling with satisfaction as I fantasized about the future. \n\nSuddenly, intense pain surged through me. Dropping to my knees, I turned to see the guide, that traitorous son-of-a-bitch, holding a knife dripping with blood. MY blood. He plunged the blade deeper this time, bending in to whisper in my ear, \"You're not a god. Gods don't bleed.\" \n\nI struggled to fight back, retain some sense of dignity, but I had been defeated. He struck again and again, and as my world faded to black, I could only wonder. Is there a god after all? Would he be merciful? Or would I be lost to the void, doomed to the same nonexistence I had sent so many others before me? \n\nDeath is frightening, but what comes after may be the most terrifying part of all... \n\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] You work the night shift at a convenience store. One night, one of your regulars comes in with an interesting proposition...	[ "True story worth telling here:\n\nI was working at a 24/7 coffee shop, on the 11pm to 7am shift, like I did five times a week.\nWe saw a ton of strange characters during the run of the nights we worked. \n\nWe even had this homeless guy who thought he was a pilot, had a uniform from salvation army and everything. Used to ride his peddle bike over to the shop at like 4am. He would buy a small coffee and regal me with stories of when he was off to \"take a flight to Paris\" that morning. He didn't know I also worked in the back at the soup kitchen on weekends.\n\nBut the crazy proposition was from this regular looking guy who worked at a call centre next to the coffee shop. He walks in like he did every other night i worked, orders his coffee and announced as I was stirring the sugars into the cup that he.. and I quote\n\n *\"quit his job to farm mushrooms in the woods! Prolly money in it? If I wanted in now, I only had to pitch in like $50 for gas and beer.\"\n\nI mean.. maybe he made his millions in the dank ass mushroom business? But I turned him down, did give him his coffee on me that night. Figure anybody willing to quit work to farm mushrooms, is having a bad enough day they need a free coffee.\n\n\n\n\n", "Dropping out of college and in dire need of some funds, convenience store work was not at the top of my list of potential jobs, but it made ends meet. For this reason, working the night shift at the “Route 40 Road Stop & Exxon” was a job I hated with a passion. The boring tasks, the low pay, and the constant fear that my next customer would be a robber or a murderer all combined to make work an unhappy experience. Add to it that the store was in the middle of nowhere, with only a few rednecks and bums coming in most nights, and it was no wonder I was always on the lookout for a new job. \n\nThere were a few people from around the my small town who frequented the store most days, but the vast majority either ignored me or only made small talk while waiting for me to ring up their items, so conversation was scarce. The exception to this rule was a man I knew only by the name Brian. Coming in every night to buy a pack of cigarettes or a few beers, Brian was full of conversation and after a few months of working there, I had gotten to know him pretty well. He had been born and raised in that town, and knew all sorts of helpful facts which he was eager to share with me. In casual conversation, I had learned from him the best pizza place, the liquor stores that didn’t card, the movie theater with the nicest seats, and the backroads that made getting around quicker. He often grumbled to me about happenings in his life, and especially about his wife and 4 sons. He had got hitched too young, he said, getting his wife pregnant when they were 16 and being forced into a bunch of jobs he didn’t want to work. He had always dreamed of being a doctor, he said, because he felt that he could really help people.\n\nThe years went fast for Brian, he said, and soon 39 had passed and he was still working as a janitor at the local high school. He complained often about the state of his marriage and the lives of his sons. His wife, once the love of his life, had become a constant source of annoyance for Brian in his middle age. He usually referred to her as “the old nag”, and spent most of his time after work swinging around bars and avoiding her, which only served to make their relationship worse. His 4 sons all still lived at home, even though the oldest was now nearly 40 years old. Unable to hold jobs and addicted to a variety of drugs, they were seen by Brian as a lot of dead weight keeping him from saving for retirement. He often pondered with me, a man almost a third his age, about how different things would be if he could re-do his life from day one. I just reminded him that at least he had a house, a family, and a job that paid a little bit of money, things which had so far eluded me.\n\nA few months ago, Brian seemed to have decided to make a change. His usual ragged appearance shifted dramatically, and the dirty, bearded, ball-cap wearing old man who had so often come to the store in need of beer and cigarettes was replaced by a clean shaved man dressed in button up shirts, usually there to purchase gas and lottery tickets. He told me that he had started attending classes at a community college a few hours from town, and he planned on starting medical school at some point and fulfilling his dreams. Of course, I was extremely proud of him for getting his act together and changing his life, but a little bit of me was jealous of him for having the resources to make such a change. Living out of my car, and very rarely getting enough sleep, I had grown irritable and desperate for a way out. Brian meanwhile, seemed to be steadily improving. His relationships with his wife and kids, however, didn’t seem to be improving. They were holding him back, he often said, and he felt he had to fix them before he could really fix his situation. He said that everything was okay, as he was planning a big move to shake things up in the family. A move to a new town, he said, would definitely make things better. \n\nEverything seemed to be going okay, when last week Brian stopped coming to the store. He had warned me that the big move was coming soon, as he needed to be closer to school, so I assumed that he had left without telling me. I was wrong. Last night, at 1 in the morning, he stumbled into the store, looking ragged and seeming to have regressed into his former state. He limped to the counter, not looking me in the eyes and smelling of alcohol. He paused for a moment, flicking through a few lottery scratchers, selecting one and then quickly putting it back. He wasn’t speaking a word, so I asked, “Brian, are you alright?” to which I received no immediate reply. \n\n“You still livin’ in that car?” he asked.\n \nI was starting to get worried at this point, he had never acted like this before. “Brian, are you okay?” I asked again.\n\n“Answer the fucking question, I’m in a hurry,\" he coughed.\n\n“Yeah, I am still living in the car, man, but thats none of your busin-“\n\n“Then I’m doing a good thing,\" he sighed, “It’s good for everyone. They’re just holding me back.\"\n\n“What are you talking about?” I asked, “What’s a good thing?”.\n\n“The wife’s against the move,” said Brian.\n\n“Well she shouldn’t be, this is obviously very important,” I said.\n\n“Kids agree with her,” he muttered angrily, “as if those moochers have a say.”\n\n“What are you gonna do about it?” I asked.\n\n“I’ve been changing my life, kid, and it’s time for me to make the big move,” he replied quickly, voice shaking.\n\n“Well that’s all great, but why do you need me?” I asked.\n\n“You wanna make 50 grand?” he asked, pulling a handgun and a wad of cash out of his coat.", "A mind-numbing haze falls over Synkwitz & Schmidt's around 3:00 a.m. I know, because I work the night shift there. When the haze falls, it becomes the Golden Hour of the brain dead. The only other cashier, Mick, stops looking like he's aware of his surroundings and floats into another plane of existence. I have to complete all my tasks before 3:00, otherwise my own brain slows until I'm basically a toddler trying to sort groceries.\n\nSynkwitz & Schmidt's is a mom-and-pop convenience store located at the center of the desolation that is my rural hometown. I'm here all summer under threat of death from my parents, who think that once I'm done with this last year of college I'll run off to Cuba or something. The option isn't off the table, to tell the truth.\n\n...\n\nAnd here I am, considering eloping to Cuba while I narrate my life. I told you things get wonky at 3:00. I didn't have a choice with the night shift, by the way. Things are backwards here and life is just unfair sometimes. I wonder if teens in Medieval Europe ever had this problem.\n\nIt looks like Mick's settled into zombie mode. I could do anything in here and he wouldn't notice.\n\nThings get really quiet past midnight. I only get one or two customers who come in super late. There's always at least one: Eddie, a cool 30-something dude who has no business walking around at this hour. He stops by to get a soda around 3:10. I don't question why this is his routine, and he doesn't question what life choices led to me being here at this time. It's a yin-yang balance kind of situation.\n\nWhoever thought a 24/7 convenience store was a good idea in a rural town is an idiot.\n\n***\n\nWell, look who it is. Mr. Eddie, ten minutes early for his soda. He looks a bit frazzled. Sometimes I wonder what he does every night, but that usually passes. You stop caring when the haze comes down.\n\nOrange soda seems a bit unusual for Eddie, who usually gets a root beer or coke. He's bent over at the soda cooler, reading the label on one of the orange sodas. It's one of those off-brands that come in glass bottles. He's not quite looking at it, but he has that expression you get when you are trying to remember what it is you forgot. Maybe he doesn't know how to open it? He usually gets stuff in cans. I don't know why he wouldn't be able to open it since he seems old enough to have encountered a glass bottle at some point in his life but...\n\n\"Hey, we can open the bottles here at the counter.\"\n\nMy own voice startled me, like it was coming from someone else. Of all the convenient things this convenience store sells, coffee is not one of them. I really* need to shake myself awake if I'm going to scare myself with my own voice. Eddie nodded at my advice, but it was that kind of nod you get when your friends don't care what you're talking about. He's squatting now, seemingly having an existential crisis. I'm kind of uncertain whether I should go comfort him or something.\n\nOh shit, he's here at the counter. I guess I blanked for a second. He's buying the orange soda.\n\n\"That'll be $2.50,\" I say.\n\n\"Did you hear me?\"\n\nHe's talking like a kid in high school trying to slack off in math class. Low volume, fast, furtive.\n\n\"You weren't going to buy the soda?\" I ask.\n\n\"I need to talk to you.\"\n\nInteresting.\n\n\"Okay,\" I say.\n\n\"In the back.\"\n\nHe waggled his head when he said that, motioning to the back of the store where the dairy is. Something's off about all this, but I can't for the life of me pull myself together enough for any alarm to set in. He's already started moving. Maybe something spilled back there. Better follow him.\n\nHis jeans have holes on the butt, right on the corners of the back pockets. Looks like he's wearing American flag underwear. And god, why does he keep looking back like someone's about to kill him?\n\nHe stopped. His hands are on my shoulders now and he's still talking in the secret voice.\n\n\"Are you familiar with the multiverse theory?\"\n\n\"Hm?\"\n\nOkay... he's talking about some crazy science stuff now. Lost me on the first two words. I tried shaking my head to show I don't understand but he's getting very intense.\n\n\"Uh. I didn't quite get that,\" I mutter.\n\n\"I'm not your normal Eddie.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you're being weird tonight.\"\n\n\"No, not just that. I don't belong in this universe.\"\n\nI've never felt high without weed before. This is weird.\n\nI could only muster a half-assed, \"Wha...?\"\n\n\"The Eddie you see every night is not here yet. He's coming soon. I'm his reflection. Like what you see in the mirror. But I got out of the mirror and into your world. He needs to be stopped.\"\n\nDid Mick give me something potent? Is that why he shuts down every night at the same time? Things are trying to make sense in my mind, but they're caged up pretty tight and they can't get through. I can feel my face bending into an expression I'm not familiar with.\n\nEddie's talking again: \"Your real world Eddie is a serial killer. I watch him from the reflections all the time, and I'm absolutely sick of it. He's been scouting his next victim and he's finished tonight. Tomorrow he strikes. He must be stopped. He must be killed before he kills, himself.\"\n\nI managed to make a logical step. \"Shouldn't we call the police?\"\n\nEddie—Mirror Eddie?—seems to be perturbed by that idea. \"Not possible.\"\n\nMirror Eddie—Meddie?—just slammed the orange soda bottle against a shelf. It spilled everywhere, and I didn't react in time. Now I'll have to clean my shoes and the sudden puddle of soda on the floor. He's holding the remains of the broken bottle by the neck and looking at me intensely.\n\n\"You in?\"\n\nGood question. Too bad I'm absolutely mind-drunk right now.\n\n\"What's going on?\"\n\nI wasn't prepared for another voice to butt in. Mick's upper body is leaning out from a shelf at the end of the aisle. He looks rightfully confused.\n\nI didn't have a chance to formulate a thought before I found myself saying, \"Eddie's a serial killer and I'm helping his mirror self kill him.\"\n\nMick's only reaction is a slight drop of the jaw. His mouth is open now and I can't help but think of a fish I saw once. Meddie is still holding his bottle. He looks so tight I feel like he'd bounce off somewhere really fast if I poked him. I just heard that dingley sound that announces when people walk in. I can see the front of the store down the aisle past Mick, who's still trying to make meaning out of what I just told him.\n\nHoly cow. There's Eddie. He's down the aisle, but he's standing right next to me too. That's so confusing. Even knowing Meddie's explanation, my brain feels absolutely obliterated. Eddie looks confused too. His eyes are darting back and forth in panic.\n\nI'm waiting for something to happen, but everyone's just standing there. Leave it to me to get things done, huh?\n\nLet me just grab that bottle from Meddie... got it. I can't seem to walk any faster than a shuffle toward the real Eddie. It's like I'm the anti-Flash. But Eddie's not doing anything out of sheer confusion, so that's cool.\n\nAnd... job's done. Eddie's on the floor with a bottle sticking out of his neck. Looks really weird. Meddie isn't there anymore, which makes sense in a way. Why would there be a reflection if the original Eddie has been successfully killed? Mick is just standing there, biting his lip. Gotta get him moving.\n\n\"Come on, we need to mop this up.\"\n\nThat should do the trick.\n\nUgh. Like I told you, 3:00 a.m. is a weird time." ]	3
	[WP] You look up at the sky and see a huge meteor heading towards the earth and nobody but you sees that it is actually there.	[ "Breathless I stared.\n\n\nI pinched my cheek just to be sure but still it persist.The hurtling rock threw a blazing trail in the sky like a jagged wound that tore reality.The world rocked for a second and felt blank,the sound of car horns filled the noon's air.In my dazed trance I didn't noticed that I had slammed the car to a halt in a busy intersection but it does not matter.The angry cries rose in waves to join the beeping of the car but still it does not matter.\n\n\nI opened the car door and went out with a graceless step that rang with a stupor that matched drunken fools.My eyes were transfixed on the meteor with unfaltering devotion.Then the fear bled through my very being as the meteor sped closer promising its imminent arrival.I felt my legs almost give way but did not care,felt even the wetness and warmth that came running against my legs.I was a moth trapped in the hypnotic vision in the flames destined to die,destined to burn.I looked around frantically expecting a fearful crowd set against the choir of sorrow that came with my revelation of abrubt finality but only the blare of car horns accompanied me.The world moved on without caring.\n\n\nI screamed against the wall of noises trying with futility,trying even if the end was inevitable to warned but was met with eyes that was open but blind and mouth that open and closes with animosity.Those unseeing eyes held nothing but contempt.\n\n\nI closed my eyes reluctant and prepared and felt the world stutter.The sweat of my brows felt cool against the summer sky.It was a good day to die.I laughed along with the morbid thought.I laughed until my throat hurt but still the laughter came.I was unhinged,the world was red as the sky bled against the burning hulk.\n\n\nI opened my eyes and the world was gone.In its place was a cold ceiling that looked grimy in places and sterile in others.I looked to my left and saw salvation with the bustle of hospital's activities." ]	1
	[WP] Today was the day, the day you fell in love. Not with the Checkout Person, nor the crush of your life. But an Assassin playing on your life.	[ "As much as I wanted to run into his arms, I still had to evade his weapons. Why did he want to kill me? What have I done, besides love him since I first met him? It's funny, because when we met, we were good friends. Now I'm running away from him for reasons I still don't know. Thoughts on what we could have had are racing through my mind while my body is racing through a darkened street. Then, I stop. I think to myself, \"If he kills me, would it matter if I tell him how I feel?\" I stand up straight, and turn to look at him. I shout, \"Please listen to me!\" He stops, but still raises his gun towards me. Tears begin to form in my eyes as I say, \"I love you, but if this is how it is, I can't have you no matter how badly I need you. So please, end my suffering because I don't want to live without you.\" He lowers his weapon and walks towards me. I shiver in fear and think, \"Will he choke me to death? Does he have another weapon?\" Instead, he says, \"I've been letting you get away because I love you too. I just want to go back to the way things were.\" He holds me and starts to cry. I hold him as well and he whispers, \"I was forced to kill you. The one who sent me was-\" BANG! The light leaves his eyes as he slumps forward. Fresh blood stains my shirt. For a split second I see a man disappear into the darkness. He falls to the ground as a thick pool of blood forms around his body. Instead of screaming, I fall to my knees and cry. I go home, still covered in his blood. Tears obscure my vision as I pick up my bottle of Abilify. I take all 30 pills. \"I hope we meet sometime again.\"" ]	1
	[WP] "No matter what, DO NOT open this door!"	[ "\"Ryan, what you think of the house?\" My mom asks me. My dad has his hand on her lower back in affection, he can rarely keep his eyes off her even after 20 years of marriage. I take another look around the large bedroom with boring white walls and newly redone hardwood floors. The wall-in closet and en suite bathroom weren't in the other houses. Plus the four bedroom will give us extra space and the pool will give me a reason to invite Martha over. \n\"On one condition, I can repaint these walls. They're too boring. I'm thinking murals of \"Thunder\" and \"Lighting\". I going to sound like a dork and I know they're from the older generation of superheroes but they're just so cool.\" I say, gesturing around the room.\n\"I think we can appease that.\" My mom says with an excited smile with her chemically whitened and perfectly straight teeth. My dad is less emotive, but I can see excitement about the move in his eyes. \n\nMy dad carries an unlabeled box into the extra bedroom with the other unlabeled boxes. \n\"Want some help getting everything unpacked? My room is done.\" I say from the door frame. He wipes the sweat from his brow. \n\"No need. I'm not that old yet.\" He says, placing the box on the floor and coming out of the room. Then he closes the door and I hear the click of lock engaging. \n\"But there will be a new house rule starting now: No matter what, do not open this door. Only your mother and I can.\" He says, pointing to the door he just closed. I look at him for a second. \n\"If you have a sex dungeon I really don't want to know.\" I say back with a teenage eye roll. My dad laughs. All of our phones bing in unison and another alien attack shows up as the headline on my watch. \n\n\"Mom...can you get dad too? It just easier that way.\" I say to the 2d versions of my mom over google hangouts. Wrinkles show on her forehead, but she nodes and rushes off to get him. I take a breath to try calm my nerves. This will go fine. They love me and will support me. They always have, always will. They each take a seat on the couch and node, giving me the floor. \n\"I...I..can..can I bring my boyfriend home for Christmas?\" I ask really fast. My mom squeals like a child and just euphoria show in her face. A tear escapes from her eye. \n\"Yes, of course. Don't get me that worried again. I thought something was wrong.\" She jokingly scolds. \n\"He'll get to see your \"Thunder\" and \"Lighting\" murals you did when you were 16. If he sees them and stays, he's a keeper.\" He teases. Since I'm a mature college student, I just stick my tongue out. \nIn the corner the Washington post's email pop ups, \"Hurricane tries to extort money from the U.S. government, again\". \n\nMy suit chokes me and the pitting stares of guests of my parent's only son gets too much. I go hide in my room like the scared little boy I am. A fucking drunk driver killed them, a drunk driver. A 16 year old knows not to drink and drive. What is so hard about the concept? I answer that, nothing. It's not rocket science, I can do that. I'm even top of my class at it. I don't understand people's stupidity. It wasn't super villain, alien attack, virus for fuck's sake. No a very human drunk driver. \nI collapse into my teenage queen sized bed. The mural of \"Thunder\" in his dark blue spandex suit, almost full face mask and confident smirk and \"Lighting\" in her bright yellow full body suit still decorate the walls. My childhood heroes couldn't help make me feel better now. They augmented their already amazing abilities with their own tech, but they were the two people that could save the world from Hurricane's first attack on the White house. There's a knock. \n\"Come in\" I yell. A guy I've never meet comes in, standard crew cut and suit. \n\"Follow me.\" He orders with no room to argue. I do as I'm told and we end up in front of the room I was never allowed to go into. I never really cared to try get in, since I respected that my parents were people and want their own privacy. \nHe takes a key and turns it. It sucks the key in, a few second later a mechanical voice say \"Welcome Ryan, Thunder and Lighting left you everything.\" \n\n\n", "“What? Why?”\n\nThe guard stood, emotionless, a blank face of stoic resolution and duty. Or maybe he was hungry. After all of the years, human faces had become harder to read. Either way he didn’t budge.\n\n“Orders are orders sir. You can’t enter this room. No matter what.” \n\nHe definitely exuded a quiet intelligence- perhaps wisdom is the better word. He couldn’t hope to match me in intellect or authority, and so evaded a direct confrontation with his damnably frustrating evasive answers. \n\n“You realise that I own this organisation! Why do I not have clearance to enter?!”\n\nMany would assume that the tone and manner of the elderly couldn’t possess hostility or aggravation, but to spend a life deliberately expressing such traits helped keep them within arm’s reach. \n\n“I’m sorry sir, but you don’t have clearance to enter this room. There’s nothing I can do I’m afraid.”\n\nWith a final huff and a string of loudly muttered insults, I span away and began the return trip to my office, merely a few halls down. My fifth attempt to enter the room had still not yielded results. Well – perhaps I ought to divulge my present research into the dilemma. \n\nFive days ago, I’d received a high level security alert from my secret security division. Somehow, a new level of security access had been created - Level ‘X’ - and used to secure a single room, a discarded office on the twenty-seventh floor. I immediately went down to the office, upon which I came face-to-face with our evasive sentinel. A wasteful half-an-hour led me to the conclusion that the guard wouldn’t budge unless I had clearance, which was frankly the more concerning issue. I’d worked tireless with my security division for several years, all to maintain the integrity of our clearance levels. Simply creating a new one shouldn’t have even been possible, much less without my clearance. The frustrating technology was the most advanced in the world, preventing even the simplest input from entering, unless one person, me, personally entered it.\n\nThe security team was compromised. No other explanation fit. I myself had pulled more than a few strings to reach my position, but given the nature of our organisation, a breach this large was too much to be simple manoeuvring. No, this was darker. Sinister. I’d hoped that my prodding might trigger a response from our interlopers, perhaps a hitman, or an early ‘retirement’. Alas, they knew what they were doing, and so restrained themselves, knowing that my usual methods of manipulation and careful planning would fall flat against a single, unsuspecting man. \n\nNow it was time for an irregular method. My office door slammed into the wall as I passed, my strength rocketing it back into the doorframe. I drew my old pistol and holster from my safe, before I swapped my canes and turned around to face my mirror. Where a young man once stood, an old man, bent to half of his height, disfigured from mere wrinkles and wearing pristine white robes, stole the position. Yet the old man was just as strong, just as powerful, and held a certain majesty, a gravitas. Nay, more than that. A different strength. The strength one might have to challenge gods and demons.\n\nThe usually silent hallway was permeated by only the slapping of two bare feet, punctuated by the regular tapping of a stick. The guard turned towards the new disturbance, yet had merely a second to contemplate my presence before a magically silenced bullet, around the size of a ripe grape, reduced his emotionless face to paste. I raised my cane and with a thought vaporised the door, only fine shavings to prove its previous existence. I had no patience with the unlit interior, revealing it with several orbs of light. Three men stood in the room, suddenly blinded. Rather than waste bullets, I flicked a sharp beam of red across the trio. An almost comical second passed before they erupted in blood. My eyes scanned the room for further threats, but there were none. The room, now containing nothing but three bloody corpses, was empty.\n\nBut when I had returned to my office, I found another man sitting on my chair. He wore sunglasses and a black suit. His clothes didn’t matter however. His face did. His face was calm and collected, his lips permanently fixed into a disarming smile. He was serene, eternally calm, calculating in every second. No move unplanned, no word without purpose. He was powerful.\n\nHe scared me.\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are a serial killer who lives in a haunted house. The ghosts are your past victims who can only scream at you as you drag in your next victims into your home to kill. The most horrific thing? You get off on their screams.	[ "Blood.\nBlood!\nBLOOD!\nIt dripped from the walls. Flowed down the stairway. Splattered across the dining table. It was everywhere, dyeing your home with magnificent different hues of red. A shudder of satisfaction ran across your hands. The very hands that painted this grotesque portrait. \nTo an outsider, this monstrous sight would be accompanied by the gentle soothing sounds of Mozart’s Requim: Tuba Mirum. But it was different for you. You heard another sound. A soundtrack that brought chills of delight down your spine. A soundtrack encompassing of shrilling, high pitched screams. All in agony. \n\n“Aieeeee! My eyes!! Papa!! I can’t see!!’\n“Mama!! Save me!! “\n“Please! No more! No more nails!!”\n“Sowiee!! I’m sowiee!! It hurts!!”\n\nSurrounded by the young voices, you bath in exultation of their pain. Triumph in their fear. Jubilant in their despair. Until another voice snapped you out of it.\n“Mr-Mr Duncan? I…I think I-I will leave……” stammered a trembling voice. \n“Now, now Isabella. Don’t you want to know where Mia went? She already met with the rest of your other little friends.” You laid out the bait.\n“I-I think….my mom’s call-calling” she stuttered, inching towards the door.\n In a second, you appeared in front of the door. Barring her exit towards freedom and life. \n“How about some cookies and milk first?” As Dale Carnagie advised, a smile always exudes affection. Your face twitched while trying to widen your lips. Seemed like aeons ago since you last smiled humanly. Expressions of insanity and lunacy accompanied you instead, these days.\n\nIsabella finally noticed the redecoration of the house. Her eyes widen, digesting the scene in front. As the strength left her legs, she slowly crumpled to the ground, into a quivering bundle of nerves. Your smile morphed, this time to an authentic one. A simple smile. A smile that comes with the accomplishment of a long arduous task. \n\nThe door to your house slammed shut, sealing the occupants inside. Through the endless nights and the even longer days, you waited patiently. Planning and hunting. Torturing and executing. Hiding and concealing. Finally, it all ends today. \n\n“Stop barking at that house, boy” scolded a dog walker. Her dog whimpered, tails and ears drooping downwards. Unable to continue giving warnings, the dog watched helplessly as his owner dragged him away from Duncan’s house. Animals possess stronger auditory senses than humans, thus the dogs ears pricked up while passing by. He heard a lot every day while having his walk. Cars, cats, crickets. But never the muffled screams of a human dying from pain. He gave one last whimper and left.\n\nFinally, the weight on your shoulders lightened. Nearby, an almost unrecognisable body lay. You closed your eyes, listening to the exquisite background music. The last member finally joined the cacophony of screams, the choir of pain, making it complete.\n\n“Sweetie, I finally brought all your friends over. Those friends that didn’t want to play with you and pushed you into the lake.” You mumbled.\n\n“Thanks Daddy!” your daughter smiled. She still looked exactly the same as the day they found her body, drowned in the lake.\n" ]	1
	[WP] In a capitalist world, all of the extremely rich start dying.	[ "Thank you, thank you. Wow. I love you all. I really do.\n\n(pause)\n\nYou know, I've always said this, and I've always believed it, there's no such thing as clean money. This country has been run by crooked politicians and greedy businessmen for way too long, it's gotten totally out of hand. \n\n(applause)\n\nI know, and you know too, because you've been supporting me this whole time, that I said I was one of them. And some of you, some of you doubted how much money I said I had and I've got to say - I've always said it - I have the smartest supporters in the country. Am I right? \n\n(applause)\n\nYou always knew and I always knew. And in the end it worked out. Now it's payday. And they still don't know what the hell is going on. \n\nMy friends, my family, we have such a tremendous opportunity in our hands now. But I haven't forgotten about all of them - they were my friends, we had a good time together, made a lot of great deals - we've got to figure out what's going on. It's too late for them but it's not too late for you. And I promise you in the next four years we are going to not only make America greater, but richer. So rich you're going to be sick. but not dying. \n\n(applause)\n\nAll you hard workers out there without a penny, you should be so proud of yourselves. I know I am. And We're going to need all of you to rebuild this country. \nThank you so much, I love you all. Goodnight and God Bless America. \n\nTranscript of the 2020 State of the Union Address" ]	1
	[WP] Six people are trapped in a room. Each of these people speak two languages each in varying degrees of fluency, but each language they speak is only shared by one other person in the room. One of them knows how to escape, but requires the help of each person in order to do so.	[ "\"This is a bunch of bullshit. We're all on board with this, yeah?\"\n\n\"Can't speak for the others, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say 'yes'.\"\n\nOne couldn't remember her real name, only identifying herself by the tattoo on her inner wrist as she paced back and forth. That alone was distressing enough, but she definitely knew she didn't like enclosed spaces, and walking in circles really wasn't helping. Even so, it was all she could do. She didn't know for sure what she looked like, she couldn't really remember that. but her skin was dark, and she had curly black hair. Also in the small room were numbers Two through Six. Two was a young Hispanic boy, clinging to a necklace and doing his best not to cry. Three was a tired, unkempt man in camo, who had responded to her English, though with an accent much more rural than hers. Four was a chubby Asian woman in a hospital gown, curled up in a corner and sobbing. Five was a lionish looking guy, with bright blonde hair and a long, shaggy beard, leaning against a wall and forcing himself to breathe as slowly as possible. And Six was a rail-thin black woman with dark, steely eyes.\n\nOn the ground between them all, there was a plaque, a message written on it in five languages. One only knew English and Spanish, but considering the message read exactly the same in both, it seemed safe to assume that the trend would continue that way. What little she could gather from it also being a romantic language, the French looked very similar as well. The other two languages didn't look like they'd ever had anything to do with the Latin alphabet. One she thought might have been Japanese, if her vague, fuzzy memories of Manga were at all accurate. The other one, however, didn't look like anything she recognized as a language at all. After staring at it for a few minutes and willing her brain to fucking understand something, she stalked away from the plaque, muttering to herself.\n\nShe couldn't stand to look at that smug fucking message anymore.\n\n\"Let's see if you can all get along now, hm?\"\n\nAs she was pacing, a dull thump drew her attention, and she saw Three hitting his head against one of the walls. \"Hey, knock it off,\" she said, but he didn't seem to respond. After a few more thuds, she walked over and grabbed his shoulder. \"I said knock it off, asshole!\" Three flinched, taking a shuddery step away from her, his breathing suddenly speeding up. One yanked her hand away from him, and instantly something clicked in her mind: She shouldn't have done that. Three was a soldier. \"I...I'm sorry.\"\n\nThree could tell that she had figured it out, and he shook his heads, hands orbiting each other anxiously. \"No, no, s'okay. You didn't know. Sorry, can't hear so good in this ear.\" He tapped the one that had been facing her when she told him to stop. \"Jus' don't do it again, okay ma'am?\"\n\n\"Mm,\" One nodded. \"So,\" she said slowly, \"since it looks like we're able to talk to each other...could you read any of the other stuff on the plaque?\"\n\n\"I mean, 'sides the English?\" He scratched his head with embarrassment. \"I, uh...I reckon I knew a couple of them Mexican words.\"\n\n\"Greeaaaaat.\" One rubbed the bridge of her nose with annoyance. \"Look, I'll get back to you, Three. OYE!\" Everyone in the room, save for Three and, oddly, Six, jumped and looked over at One. \"<Do any of you nitwits speak Spanish?>\"\n\nOne knew that she was being far too brusque. Being somewhere so tightly enclosed was not good for her blood pressure, and the way she acted was showing it. So she really wasn't expecting it when the Hispanic kid, Two, ran over and hugged her, sobbing into her chest. \"<I'm so scared!>\" He wailed, and One awkwardly wrapped her arms around him.\n\n\"Uh...<There...there, kiddo. It's, uh...gonna be okay?>\" She petted his hair in a way she hoped was comforting, but that she was fairly certain was creepy. \"<Do you, uh, know anything about how we got here?>\"\n\nTwo shook his head, but slowly, a guilty look crossed over his face, and he stared at his feet. \"<I...do you promise you won't be mad?>\"\n\nShe knew she should just say yes, but somehow, when One opened her mouth, the words wouldn't come out of her throat. \"<I c-can't promise that.>\" she finally choked out. Two looked crestfallen, but she didn't let him pull away. \"<I'm gonna get mad, Two. But I can promise I'm not gonna be mad at you. I'm pissed at whatever sociopathic fuckstick put us in here.>\"\n\nTwo gasped and burst into tiny giggles when she swore, wiping his face as he did. Even so, the joviality faded quickly, as his eyebrows knit and he frowned to himself. \"<Alright. I don't know how I know this, or why I know it. But there's a door somewhere in one of these walls. None of us can get out alone though. You're the only one who can find the door.>\"\n\n\"<What? How?>\"\n\n\"<I don't know!>\" Two said, tearing up a bit. \"<I don't know how I know these things or how they're supposed to work, I just know them!>\"\n\n\"<Right, right.>\" One sighed and pulled him in for another brief hug. \"<I'm sorry. Can you keep going please?>\"\n\nTwo nodded, though his body was shaking. \"<W-well..Four is the only one who can make the door visible. I don't know how she does that either. Six knows the password, but only Five saying it will make the door open. I don't know what Three is here for.>\"\n\n\"<Thank you.>\" One took a deep breath and forced herself to exhale slowly. \"<Alright. I'm gonna see what I can find. I'll get back to you.>\"\n\nTwo nodded and let go of her hand, and as soon as she was free to again, One started pacing. Every second it felt like the air was getting thinner. Objectively, that wasn't true, but the walls still seemed to be shrinking and bulging down towards her. Just as an act of defiance, she backed up and kicked one of the walls.\n\nUnsurprisingly, her foot bounced off the wall with a useless WHUMP, and had Five not rushed over to catch her, she would have gotten a good facefull of the metal tiles. \"Eugh. Thanks, Five.\" She grumbled. \n\nHe looked quizzically at her. \"Um, je ne parle pas l'anglais.\"\n\nOne sighed. \"Right. My bad. I should have figured you'd sound-\" Her voice died mid sentence and she pushed herself away from Five, brushing a few of his yellow beard-hairs off her shirt as she pressed herself up against the wall. She pushed her ear to the metal, ignoring the cold bite that she felt as she knocked her knuckles along the wall. clunk clunk clunk clunk clunk, the knocks droned monotonously as she slowly worked her way around the room (Deftly avoiding Four's corner) until she heard just what she was looking for: CLONGGGG! One smiled over at Two, who smiled hopefully back, and pulled a thing of lipstick out of her pocket, knocking all over the wall until she knew just where the empty spot was, then drawing a large, dark red X over the whole thing. \"Fuck yes!\"\n\n\"The hell you got there?\" Three stood on one leg and on his toes to see over One's head. \n\n\"According to Two, our ticket out of here.\" One said with a grin. \"Seems like we'll just have to...sigh, work together to get out of this shithole. Now, Two said we just need to...\" She glanced back and forth between her X and the shivering woman in the corner. \"Okay, I don't suppose you could kick your way through, like, whatever this is made of, huh?\"\n\nThree shook his head. \"No dice, sis. Ain't much good in that department these days.\"\n\n\"Right.\" One sighed and walked back over to Two. \"<Okay, kid, one out of four ain't bad. Any idea what's up with her?>\" she jerked her thumb at Four.\n\nTwo glanced over and cringed. \"<I don't know. I think she might be crazy.>\"\n\n\"You don't say,\" One muttered under her breath.\n\n\"<She's not really saying or doing anything. She's just rocking back and forth and saying the lord's prayer over and over.>\"\n\nOne blinked. \"<Is that what she's doing? I though she might be trying to put a curse on us or something.>\"\n\n\"<No, she's definitely praying. She's saying it in Tagalog.>\"\n\n\"<Taga...that's in the Philippines, right?>\" One chewed on her lower lip to help herself think. \"<Is that one of the things that was on the plaque?>\" Two nodded. \"<Okay, that answers that. And you understand it?>\"\n\n\"<A little bit, yeah, but...>\" Two's face got that guilty, frightened look again. \"<...she's really scary. She moves and talks weird.>\"\n\n\"<I know, kid.>\" One gently took his hand in hers. \"<Come on. We'll talk to her together.>\"\n\nThe two of them moved over to the trembling woman's corner, and when she looked up at them, her eyes were tearsoaked and bloodstained. One had no idea what they were saying, but she could feel Two's deathgrip on her hand slowly get looser, and his voice just as slowly get calmer. It took a few minutes of negotiating, but eventually, Four shakily got to her feet and moved over to the X marked wall. She examined the wall closely, slowly examining the dullish metal covering it before an odd smile came over her face and she yelled something. \"<What, what'd she say?>\" One asked.\n\nTwo shook his head. \"<I don't know! That wasn't Tagalog!>\"\n\nHowever, before either could ask anything else, Five's ears perked up, and he ran over to Four, the two speaking quickly to each other in a language One was almost certain was Japanese. The two excitedly chattered away, even as Five pulled out a lighter and a can of hairspray, then fired a makeshift flamethrower right at the wall. Before One could ask what the hell they thought they were doing, she saw the wall begin to melt, right before her eyes. There was probably something smart she could have said, watching these two joyfully talking to each other while slowly turning a metal wall to slag with a fifty cent lighter, but all that came out of her mouth was \"What the fuck?\"\n\n(continued in reply)", "The multilingual convention was in town again, but, given that it was a fairly small town, not many people did come. An Italian man, a Swiss woman, a Belgian boy, a Canadian man, a Spanish woman, and myself, an American, were the only attendees. Now, naturally, the Italian man spoke Italian and Portuguese, as he was a traveling merchant, the Swiss woman spoke Italian and German since she lived near the Italian border, the Belgian boy knew German and French, as it is quite a multilingual country, the Canadian man was from Quebec, so he spoke English and French, I spoke English and Spanish, which I learned from four classes in High School, and the Spanish woman spoke Spanish and Portuguese, since she traveled often between the two countries. I hope I didn't lose you.\n\nNow, the thing about the multilingual convention was that, as there were only six attendees, we did not have the money to host ourselves at a large convention center. We, instead, borrowed the recreational center of the township. The unfortunate part of the story is, the door locks from the outside as well as the inside, and since we did not tell the township when exactly the convention was to be held, we found ourselves locked in at the end of the convention.\n\nNow, I knew where the spare keys were, but they were up quite high, and so I kindly asked the Spanish woman to tell the Italian man to reach up and get them.\n\nNow, Spanish was not my first language, so I'm not so sure if I didn't speak correctly or she didn't understand correctly, or if she didn't speak correctly or he didn't understand correctly, but as soon as the Italian man heard this, he expressed a sigh of relief and pulled out what looked to be a roll of marijuana out from his back left pocket.\n\n\"No! Not get high! Get the high keys! Up there!\" I exclaimed, and the man seemed confused. Different culture, I guess. I explained to the Spanish woman once again, and she translated to the Italian man, who then proceeded to pout, put away his substances, and reach for the keys. But, as he was quite the clumsy man, he ended up dropping them and, in his moment of confusion, he kicked them under a table.\n\nI audibly groaned.\n\nI turned to the Canadian man and told him to tell the Belgian boy to reach under the table and grab the keys (which made the Swiss lady look as if she felt a bit left out). The boy crouched down and reached under the table and grabbed the keys. I took them from him and searched for the one to the door - but wait - where was it? I swear the keychain had five keys, and this one only had four. What could have happened to it?\n\nI looked around frantically, when finally the Swiss woman exclaimed something in German. It didn't matter what she said, however, because I saw it too. A man was walking by outside, quite close to a window we could slightly crack open. I rushed over, opened the window, and exclaimed at the man, \"Hello! We need help! We're trapped inside! Can you call the township? The police? Anyone?\"\n\nHe furrowed his brow and responded something that sounded German. My suspicions were confirmed by the fact that the Belgian boy seemed to understand him. The Belgian boy then said something to the Canadian, who then turned to me.\n\n\"What did the man say?\" I asked impatiently.\n\n\"He told the Belgian boy that he only speaks Russian.\"\n\n---\n\nTo see all of my writing, please visit /r/ZachWrites!" ]	2
	[WP] You are a suicidal character in a bad fanfiction. You repeatedly throw yourself into extreme danger to fulfill your wish of death, however you keep inexplicably getting power boosts and defeating the villain which was supposed to kill you	[ "Raven Ebony De'Ath Darkholme stood at the edge of the gates of Rabum Alal, the Great Destroyer, the Maw at the bottom of the Orrery of Worlds. The greatest heroes of multiple universes had thrown their weight against him, and been broken like a wave against a rock. She had walked through multiple dead Earths to get here, through the bodies of the damned. Her pale white skin still remained untarnished by the rot, but in her heart of hearts she knew this could not last. \n\nThe gates opened, and the Servants of Rabum Alal stood before her. DIE screamed Onslaught, its floating hollow armor supported by the force of a thousand mutant minds, slaughtered and harvested to create a single psychic force. Raven Ebony De'Ath Darkholme stood empty before him and waited for his words to destroy her. \n\nBut her heart, good and pure, shone like a light through Onslaught's attack. Its words withered and fell to the wayside. It shrieked and charged at her, and the minds of the damned broke against her goodness like a wave against a rock, the freed consciousnesses returning to the noosphere. \n\n\"What?\" screamed Raven Ebony De'Ath Darkholme. Her black fingernails cut into her palms and her silken hair waved across her face. \"How the hell is that supposed to work? He just hits me, and dies? What the hell? And you used that wave metaphor already!\" \n\nShe had little time to contemplate, though, for the second of the Servants was upon her. The Galactic Engine, once a servant of the cosmos, killed and hollowed out and its skull repurposed as a war machine of ceaseless creation and destruction. It breathed, and galaxies swirled around it, stars burning hot. Its mouth was a black hole. It was death and life and silence and cancer and standing before it Raven Ebony De'Ath Darkholme fully realized her insignificance in the grand scheme of the world. She collapsed to her knees before it, and waited for it to swallow her whole. \n\nBut as its jaws closed around her, her heart beat in tune to the rhythm of the universe. Lives, stars within it listened to the beat, and in turn responded. Things moved, were moved by her, reached out in sympathy and pity. Her heartbeat spread like a virus, infected the Galactic Engine, crumbled it from within with the power of love. It opened its eyes and knew peace. \n\n\"Oh come on!\" Raven Ebony De'Ath Darkholme screamed. She raked her black fingernails across her face, which still remained flawless. \"This is fucking stupid! It was breathing out stars! You can't convert a star with love! That's - that's the whole point! The universe swallows you up! It eats you whole! You burn! You burn alive and the universe doesn't give a damn!\" \n\nHer cries fell on deaf ears, the ears of the Void. It heard only silence, saw only darkness. It was the shadow in the heart of every hero, given substance, given form. It had driven men to madness and despair, it had raised them to fascism and violence. It had, with every cynic's heart, sapped the life from the world and fed on it. It was every page gone unread, every cry for help gone unheard. And before Raven Ebony De'Ath Darkholme, it was her every imperfection turned against her, multiplying, unstoppable. \n\nAnd she looked at it, and against her will saw it as the empty thing it was. I am nothing, she thought, and her shadow was less than that. It flailed, and faded in the wind. \n\n\"That wasn't -\" Raven Ebony De- \"Fuck, why do you have to keep spelling out my full name every time!\" she said, and hung her head. \"I'm so tired. That's all. That's it. Winning doesn't mean anything anymore. Living doesn't mean anything anymore. I don't do anything, and they die. How's that supposed to be satisfying, huh? How's that supposed to make me feel like any of this matters?\" Crystal tears flowed down from her deep purple eyes. \"I just want to meet Rabum Alal. I just want to meet the Great Destroyer. I just want to not exist anymore. Is that so bad? Is that so bad?\" \n\nThe Servants of Rabum Alal lay dispersed before her, and her way to their Master was unbarred. She rose to her feet and stepped forth. But as the figure of Rabum Alal rose before her, the sky opened up and a beam of light shone forth onto the ground. Reality warped. It was the One-Above-All, the supreme creator of her reality, directly intervening to give her a message. \"Oh shit,\" she said. \"Shit shitty shit shit shit.\" The light carved into the ground like a pen, leaving flaming words before her. \n\n\"This is the worst bullshit of all,\" Raven said, the tears falling from her eyes. \"Why are you doing this? Why can't you think of anything better? Why do you have to keep intervening in the dumbest, most blatant, ugly, clumsy, worthless way possible? What the fuck is wrong with you?\" she screamed up at the sky. She collapsed to her knees, staring down at the words in front of her. She felt a lump in her throat, and fell silent.\n\nPlease, the words read, carved immortal into the stone. Please. I need you to live." ]	1
	[WP] The Taured mystery, from the Taured man's perspective.	[ "Oh my head, my aching head; God why is everything spinning; I can't hear a thing; fuck my eyes won't open. I don't know where I am. Where's Bob, let me try calling out to him. Fuck I can't even speak what the hell is going on here. (Crouching in pain in a foetal position). Aaaahhhh!!!! my ears why does it feel like someones piercing my ears. God why did I leave my bed this morning. Wait there's a ringing. Why doesn't someone pick up that annoying phone! Oh wait I think those are my ears. This is a good thing right? Damn I should have paid attention to the presentation on the human ear last week. But I did get a hot date so totally worth it.\n\nI think I see something. Yes at least it's blurry but it's something. The ringing's stopped my hearing's coming back. Yes it was a good thing. Okay patience patience it's all coming back.\n\n(Starts feeling around awkwardly) Man my legs are killing me. There should be a chair around here somewhere. I could have sworn it was to my left. Damn it Bob moving my stuff around!! Okay so we're waiting. Damn it body don't fail me now.\n\nOkay Okay almost there. I can make out shapes and here guys moving. Wait why are people mucking about in the lab. I could have sworn it was only Bob and I in here; and they sound like a lot of people too. Damn administration and their bloody mandated tours.\n\nYes finally we're back. (Looks around awkwardly). THIS IS NOT MY LAB!! Damn it I don't recognize anything. Okay pull yourself together. Deep breath. Do not freak out. Don't freak out damn it!. Okay let's figure out where we are. Come on you can do this. But honestly what kind of sorcery is this. Seriously after 30 years in the same damn city and I have no idea where I am or why anything's changed. I think I go out more than enough to notice this much of a change. I really should get out more and stop giving excuses.\n\nYes a cop. Uniform looks a bit off but he looks like a cop. Looks a bit shifty but what the hell all I need is information. Here goes nothing. Damn this guy looks at me like I'm some sort of freak. What the hell do you mean you've never heard of Taured. We're in fucking Taured damn it. If this is someones idea of a joke its a sick joke. Never heard of Taured you don't joke like that. That's just wrong telling me I'm in Tokyo. What the hell is Tokyo? Least they could do was make the joke believable. " ]	1
Feel free to take this in absolutely any direction, from any perspective you'd like. As a small elaboration, I'm imagining that therapists still have specialties other than "supernatural". So secretive grief counselors, marriage counselors, trauma specialists, and other more esoteric professions I can't think of. Have fun! Also, first prompt. Critiques welcome!	[WP] There is a small, secretive, but otherwise normal group of therapists with an unusual clientele. This includes eldritch, supernatural, immortal, and otherwise unusual beings.	[ "\"Oh Golly, here we go again!\" says Janet disappointingly as she fiddles with her DataCalendar.\n\n\"What is it? Oh actually, let me take a guess... Don't tell me. Is it that blasted Cyrus again?\" ask Becky as her voice reverberates down through the hall.\n\n\"Bingo!\", Janet shoots backs quickly, her voice dripping with sarcasm.\n\nThis is a daily occurrence for us. In our line of work, we are sworn to secrecy and we are forced to keep anything we hear confined between the walls of our own head and our client. No colleagues, no spouses and certainly no outsiders can ever find out about our private sessions. Now, we do a decent job at keeping secrets from everybody outside the firm but between us three therapists, it's just too damn hard. Becky, Janet and I are the only therapists in the world who help the \"superhumans\" of the universe, as we like to categorize them.\n\n\"Janet, I mean, I understand your POTENTIAL distaste for Cyrus. Key word is potential. He's a chauvinist pig that never dies and he bask in his own godlike abilities. But come on, the man has some major daddy issues.\" I intervene like always. These conversations are meant for the three of us. It's our therapy and they would think something was wrong if I didn't interject.\n\n\"Cyrus? Daddy issues? I don't know if the clinic would define that as a proper diagnosis. His dad has only blown up thousands of planets, enslaved countless species in his holding cells and literally turned Cyrus's mom into ash after a domestic fight!\" Becky says, as she now leans on my door. Her head rotating back and forth as we talk.\n\n\"Oh, stop it guys. I know he has had a rough childhood... I am just sick of him hitting on me. Who does he think I am? Some type of floozy? Does he really think I am easy?\"\n\nWe both stare at her, our foreheads wrinkle up and our eyebrows angle down towards the bridge of our nose in confusion. We make it a point to ogle her short mini skirt and exposed cleavage. \n\n\"What! I like to look sexy sometimes. Jeez Louise, can't a girl accessorize?\", she yells at us as she catches on.\n\n\"Anyways, time for my three o' clock today with Pandora. I don't know if I can handle her today...\" I say in a defeated tone.\n\n\"You got this! She'll open up today, I just know it\", yells Becky as she gorges down a doughnut in the break room a few doors down.\n\n\"Yeah baby, be patient. You are the best there is. That's why they matched you with her!\", says Janet as she tries to pump me up.\n\n\"Thanks guys... see you in an hour or so.\"\n\nPandora has been a major problem since she started sessions. The board thought she fit our clientele perfect but she's been nothing but a burden for me. She's an angelic woman with abilities that eclipse nearly anyone that's ever set foot on in our office. She's very imposing; her body is lanky but still defined with rock hard lean muscle. Her hair shines a rich strawberry blonde and her eye color looks like it was plucked from the most vivacious forest you can envision. It's as pure as any a green in the universe.\n\nShe sits idly in my room, her penetrating gaze looking directly at the wall behind my desk as always.\n\n\"Hi Pandora, how are we doing today?\"\n\nNothing, not one word. It's been this way for six months now. I've tried everything to get her to talk. I've tried gifts, I've tried movies, crap, one day I just tried to dance to make her laugh. I literally can't make her budge. It's not just the lack of communication, it's her body language. She sits and doesn't even respect me enough to look me in the eye.\n\n\"Pandora, please... it's been six months of us both wasting an hour out of our week. I ask how you are doing. You stare deeply at nothing the whole time and I fumble through my phone. Just... please... please talk to me.\" I ask pleading but this is no different than any other time. I've pleaded to her more times that I can count.\n\nAccording to the society, prestigious colleges around the world and every government on earth, I am the best therapist there is. I've received ever accolade in my field, I've published more educational journal articles than anyone with a PhD, written more best sellers and I am the most cited Doctor on the planet, yet this woman mocks me every session. \n\nFor the first time in my career, my patience is waning. I can feel my temper rise up gradually. I am at my bursting point.\n\n\"Pandora, what in the hell is wrong with you? YOU are the one who went to HeroQuest and told them you wanted to talk to a specialists. YOU are the one who decided to do this. This is all YOU! I don't need you here. To be honest, it would be a great help if you never came back here again! Why don't you just get out of my chair and walk out!\"\n\nMy face instantly heats up; I can feel the blood flow to my cheeks. The second I released that last syllable, I am overcome with embarrassment. Never once have I lashed out a client. \n\n\"I -- I'm sorry Pandora... I'm very sorry\" I whisper softly, my hands holding up my head as I peer down at my desk. I am slightly shaking, my emotion shot between the quick transition from rage to the utmost shame. I am better than that...\n\nAll of a sudden, Pandora's body glows a rich leafy green, the aura is absolutely stunning. She leans over in her chair, her eyes locked into mine for the first time in six months. Her hand raises ever so gently, it floats, bringing along her radiating light and softly descends down onto mine.\n\n\"Thank you... Thank you so much. Thank you for sitting with me all these hours. People don't understand the internal battles I fight to keep my power safe from evil. I am constantly tested and sometimes, it feels good to have a kind heart around me as I do it. You, one of the kindest I've seen on this planet, are the reason I requested these sessions. I'm aware of your frustrations and all the emotions I've caused you during my stay... but I thank you so much for everything.\" \n\nHer tone is so powerful but magnificently subtle. The way she looks, her enigmatic smile is that of something way beyond anything I have ever seen. I feel almost unworthy of her presence. \n\n\"Pandora, I-- don't\" I start to stutter, I am in complete shock.\n\n\"Thanks again Olive. I'll never forget you\"\n\nShe begins to dissipate in my office, the last thing to go is her smile.\n\nThe client that talked to least has left the biggest impact on me... \n\n\"I'll never forget you either, Ms. Pandora...\" I whisper to myself, as I stare at the now empty chair.", "Psychology has always been a passion of mine. Knowing how the human mind works, knowing the way each individual handles life. \n my degree was, however, a lackluster endeavor. Once I obtained a license and started attaining clientel I realized I've made a grave mistake.\n Having the desire to know how the human mind works is one thing, choosing a profession that entails listening to other people essentially bitching is another. Most patients come in because they need help, help fixing a marriage that's failing, or dealing with memories that hurt them...and most of all, those who think a pill can make life more than what it is. After months of listening to people, with the mask of a sympathetic ear, I can tell you this, enjoy the little things, because life sucks, people suck, and no one wants to hear your problems unless you pay them.\n Eight months of questioning my life and pretending to hear those coming to me with the same problems, tuning in to their rantings on key words like, \"you know?\", and \" what should I do?\". Always responding with \"what do you think?\". I've mastered the art of daydreaming at this point.\n One afternoon; not sure of what day, as they all all blur together at this point, my daydreaming was cut short, only this time it wasn't the usual words. The gentleman I was speaking with had made his appointment weeks ago, though canceled four times, and upon meeting him I could see he was some form of an addict. I was prepared for the pale shriveled looking man to explain why he needs drugs, but instead he began describing how he was recently attacked outside of his law firm. This caught my attention, so I listened to the frail man describe how his accoster attacked him as he was walking to his car on a typical late night at his firm. I ritualistically explained to him that a mugging can be a traumatizing experience. The man shook his head, insisting I don't understand. He continued to explain that the man didn't rob him but he held him down and bit his neck. My mind went immediately to how awful drug addicts can be, resorting to bath salts.\n Our session was over at this point, and i suggested to the man that we meet again soon, and to schedule an appointment with my secretary. After a few more appointments of daddy issues and failing marriages, I left my office. Walking to my car I thought of the brandy waiting at home to help me unwind. As I approached my car I noticed a man in the parking lot, leaning on my car, almost limp, seemingly struggling to stand. I assumed a drunk had Stumbled from the nearby bar, but as I got to my car I recognized him as the lawyer from earlier. I thought perhaps he is on his drug of choice and is in need of help. I walked to him and asked if I could call someone, to which he replied \"You don't understand, I can't..i can't take it..the hunger..\" He lunged at me with speed I didn't expect, as I fell to the ground I felt a searing pain in my neck, and as my vision faded a warmth spreading through my body.\n Splitting pain in my head forced my eyes open, slowly, as the florescent lights burned like a hangover from hell. I was tempted to roll over, until my brain clicked on and I realized that im somewhere unfamiliar. As I forced my eyes open, I began to make out a figure standing above me..I began to focus in on this figure, a pale, tall man, he was adorned in a tweed shirt complete with elbow pads and a bowtie. As he spoke my ears forced me awake enough to understand. \"Welcome, you might not understand now, but don't be afraid, you are safe. You are in my office, and may I be the first to welcome you to the psychiatric offices for the unseen", "Patient 9 was... somewhat difficult today.\n\n\"You're going to be late, Doctor!\"\n\n\"Yes Devin, thank you!\"\n\n\"Nine's appointment is in six minutes!\"\n\n\"Just follow me with the bag! You've got the got the checklist?\"\n\nDevin fumbled with the prep-bag and they ran down the \"It's only got a an S-6 of plus-or-minus nineteen seconds for its on-time score!\"\n\n\"Jesus Christ Devin, run the damn checklist!\"\n\n\"Phone?\"\n\n\"Dropped it on your desk!\" Doctor Brenner vaulted across the stairwell's final railing, shouldered through the door, and un-threaded his belt while Devin caught up. \n\n\"Wallet and IDs?\"\n\n\"Briefcase, behind your desk! Just run for it!\"\n\n\"Passpo-\"\n\n\"For Fuck's sake Devin, just do it fast!\"\n\n\"Travel shit? Metal? Bathroom? Alibi?\"\n\n\"Ticket stubs are hidden, belt's on the floor and my zipper's plastic, and Quentin's running my personal e-mail.\"\n\n\"Bathroom?\"\n\nThe reach Nine's door, Dr. Brenner kicks off his shoes. \"Eh, gimmie the jar.\"\n\nDevin winds the analog countdown, then finds something to do with his hands when Brenner finishes. \"Yeah, floor's fine for that doc.\"\n\nBrenner lets his pants, fall, pulls off his sweater and t-shirt in one go, then pumps the dispenses alongside the door and rubs a generous layer of the gel on his body, and inside his underwear. Devin watches the seconds on his watch as he drops the sequence of tablet's into the prep-bag's water-bottle. Brenner downs it in several heaving gulps while Devin waves at his damp-spots with their folded-up checklist. \n\n\"Time, Devin?\"\n\n\"Ninety seconds and change.\"\n\n\"Christ.\"\n\n\"Room's prepped, get in!\"\n\n\"See you in...?\"\n\n\"Two weeks! -Ish. Just go!\"\n\nBrenner catches the timer out of the air as Devin throw it after him. The door slams and seals, and the lights flicker as they turn over to the room's internal power. Brenner takes his seat and waits, counting towards ninety. He takes a deep breath and holds it as he passes eighty, though it doesn't quite a correlate with a smooth transition. Not quite, but still. \n\nA slight breeze rustles his hair, and Brenner flicks his timer's trigger. \n\nNinety minutes to go.\n\n\"Good morning, Dr. Brenner.\"\n\n\"Good morning. If you've made yourself acceptably, comfortable, let's begin with your goals for today's session.\"\n\n\"Good morning, Dr. Brenner.\"\n\nBrenner flicked his eyes to his timer and back. Eighty-nine minutes to go, eh thought, and we're already on our first loop. Well, this'll be bracing.\n", "\"What's wrong today Bob?\"\n\nBobbardegonth let out a sigh, although one would call it more of an inhuman growl that would send one's mind to the brink of insanity.\n\n\"It's my confidence,\" he gurgled. \"It's lower than the depths my brothers crawled out of. Every time I meet a nice girl at a bar and offer her a drink or something, it ends with ten or so people screaming and ending up in a psych ward under medication. I've run out of hangout spots and friends are hard to come by besides extended family.\"\n\n\"Don't you worry there, Bob. Everyone has moments where others aren't drawn to people. I didn't meet my wife immediately! I had to wait and summon her the old fashioned way. And even then it was a rocky road.\"\n\n\"But this is different, Dr. Malcovich. No one likes me and it feels bad.\"\n\n\"Don't worry, Bob. I like you. Your family likes you. I think I know what you need.\"\n\n\"What's that Doc?\"\n\n\"A big 'ole hug.\"", "I studied my paperwork as I waited for the next client to arrive, preparation is key in this line of work and if you aren’t prepared for what walks through the door you could, at best offend the client and at worst be removed from the timeline and shattered at an atomic level. I failed to prepare for my last meeting and almost gave third degree burns to Mrs Brookes thanks to a friendly handshake and my silver wedding ring. A rookie mistake but easily made when your clientele is as diverse and unusual as mine are. My husband and I were barely married so I was reluctant to take the ring off for fear of losing it, but now I kept it in my top drawer next to a mixture of jewellery, gadgets and symbols. Some merely trinkets, others effective safety measures when supernatural clients became emotional or enraged, which happened more than I would like.\n\nI pulled out the file for my next patient and re-checked his bio, I knew him well but a bit more prep work couldn’t hurt.\n\n------------------------------------------------\n\nName: Ashley\n\nClass: Metamorph \n\nSpecies: Shapeshifter\n\nDescription: N/A\n\nOffenses: Has been sentenced by the council to attend therapy for unconsciously exposing his abilities in public and committing unsanctioned identity fraud.\n\nDislikes: silver, mirrors, self-reflection, scrutiny, being alone\n\nPatient history: Ashley has suffered with identity issues for the most of his adolescence. He craves acceptance and stability but due to his natural impulse to copy appearances and traits of those around him, he often finds normal interaction difficult, as his fellow conversationalists are unnerved by his talent of mirroring. \nDespite his failure with interaction he shows clear signs of wanting an extroverted lifestyle. He enjoys the company of others though his need to be around others has evolved to the point where clear boundaries must be set, as he will ignore social faux pas such as personal space invasion.\n\n+Recent sessions have raised suspicions that he may additionally have obsessive tendencies.\n\n+In the last few meetings he has become uncharacteristically less willing to partake in discussions.\n\n---------------------------------------\n\nI had barely skimmed through the first few pages when someone rapped on my office door. I opened my clunking drawer, filed the documents back in there place and called for the client to enter. I was met by a bushel of unkempt blonde hair and a woman’s voice, as Susan, my secretary, peaked her head around the door smiling apologetically.\n\n“Sorry, but It looks like your five o’clock is a no-show Doctor Barnes, shall I rearrange your schedule?”\n\nI looked up at her and had difficulty holding back a scowl.\n\n“No that’s fine I have work to do but if you would like to come in for a quick chat, there’s some things I’d like to discuss.”\n\nSusan, still holding a straining smile shook her head and slowly inched her way back behind the door as her features started to squirm uncontrollably. I sighed.\n\n“You’re wasting time, and I have other clients Ash, come in and take a seat.”\n\nMy would-be secretary opened the door further to expose a figure dressed in a light tracksuit and a now clearly shifting face, the mouth started reforming as it spoke, with a more masculine voice.\n\n“Sorry Doc, didn’t mean no harm by it I just don’t feel in the mood to talk, y’know. When I walked past the front desk and I signed-in the shifting started and I figured I might be able to pull a fast one on ya.”\n\nI pulled out a pen and scribbled a note onto one of my various notebooks, a note for myself, the job was ever challenging and every incident no matter how small needed to be documented.\n\n“I realise it’s difficult for you, but could you please hold your form while in my office, my staff are aware of your talents, they are trained to handle more than most, but I would like to keep their supernatural exposure relatively low as it causes undue stress.“\n\nAsh’s face now resembled a young mans but the hair was still a mop of blonde flicks. He seemed unperturbed by the change brushing it out of his eyes absent-mindedly.\n\n“I get it Doc I really do but y’know it’s one of my quirks, its getting worse, I just notice things about people and before I know it I’ve shifted into them. It’s when I see an unusual feature, if something sticks out I subconsciously copy it and the rest of the face follows naturally. Your secretary hair just stuck out.”\n\nI reached into one of the lower drawers and fished out a mask, a noh mask, once the property of a wed-locked Shinto priest now in my care thanks to a less than ideal, impromptu exorcism that took place in my office when their marriage therapy failed. My desk drawers were full of clutter and was glad I was finally getting some use of them. I had now met with Ash on several occasions and was building a good client-practitioner rapport. Ash had a particularly memorable first session, he arrived ahead of his meeting and flawlessly copied my features after stealing a glance at my face through the window, this caused confusion amongst my staff when he signed in. The meeting that followed was both unproductive and surreal as I felt I was analysing myself. Now I wear the mask so he has nothing to focus on. My voice muffled behind the pale plastic face.\n\n“Well let’s get started shall we. Today I want to focus on your shifting Ash, I believe it’s tied to some sub-conscious memories. Please list the times you’ve shifted since we last met.”\n\nAsh’s face was still in a state of flux as he fished out a fistful of crumpled notes from this tracksuit pocket, without another face to copy, it almost settled on its default male visage but kept fuzzing and shifting in an unsettling, unfocused way like a pixelated picture. His mouth curled and sank as he spoke in an ever shifting tone as he listed off the events. \n\n“Tuesday… shifted because one of my social workers smiled at me, her lipstick was smudged. Thursday… a shop assistant had a piecing hole in her nose and ear, I barely managed to leave before I shifted. Friday a little girl past me on a bike, I shifted almost immediately, caused a scene and was detained again…”\n\nSomething nagged at the back of my mind, there was a pattern here. I interrupted Ash and changed the focus.\n\n“I've heard a lot of these instances now Ash over the last few weeks and I believe there’s a common link. Do you realise that of the all the shifts you've told me every single one is brought on by close proximity to women, why do you think that is?\"\n\nAsh’s face was unreadable as usual, but the question had rendered him silent, in thought.\n\n“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to…”\n\nAsh looked at my mask and opened his mouth to say something but he paused and looked downwards instead, unable to form the words.\n\n“How about I change the subject, tell me about your family again”\n\nI could hear the smile even through the distortion. We’d talked about his family before and he had nothing but praise for them.\n\n“There’s four of us, me, my two brothers, and my dad. I’m the only shifter, mum was one too... She died when I was born. I heard dad was hopeless at first, we lived with my uncle for the longest time, and they raised me together with my brothers. I love each of them, I couldn’t ask for a better family. Growing up dad used to take us hiking and fishing, my brothers and I used to wrestle and tease each other, despite my abilities we were a normal family, but a few years ago something went wrong. I just felt like an outsider, I get strange feelings, my body does things. Teenagers huh, hormones and all that. As soon as puberty hit full swing the shifting became uncontrollable.”\n\nI put my pen down and closed my book bringing my hands to a steeple, I had to pick my words carefully.\n\n“So you could say you had a very male-orientated upbringing?”\n\n“Huh? yeah, I guess, I didn’t really talk with girls till I went to school, I just got on with guys more I liked them… I… liked…”\n\nThe words faltered as Ash drifted off into a silent discomfort, his face seized dramatically.\n\n“Do you think…I…?\n\nA silence filled the room as we both pondered the possibility. Ash broke the silence by abruptly standing up and walking to the door. \n\n“We still have time Ash, let’s talk some more before you leave.”\n\nAsh lingered at the door awhile, I couldn’t image how overwhelming the emotions must have been. Then without turning around she left.\n" ]	5
	[WP] A shut-in gets bitten by a vampire, somehow. He/she doesn't realize it, due to the symptoms being similar.	[ "Despite what popular media, the internet and your grandmother will tell you. Being bitten by a vampire does not turn you into one and Vampires do not go around sucking the blood from innocent virgins (or anyone for that matter). Really, this idea is not only absurd it's a little bit racist. I would call it silly to judge an entire race by the actions of a very few but you humans seem to excel in making fantastic leaps of logic from very small pieces of information -Usually very very incorrectly. \n\nBut, I digress, the idea that Vampires are viewed as blood suckers infuriates me, and I have a tendency to go on rants. My therapist tells me that writing out my side of the story could help with my \"repressed anger at humans.\" Frankly, I think it's psychobabble but it was court ordered so I legally have to do it. \n\nYou've probably heard about me, I've been painted as the insane blood sucker who attacked the poor innocent human. Some a$H@!3s even had the audacity of call me a redtooth, personally I find this to be crossing a line but again bad vampire, weak human. The narrative truly doesn't help me, so her's my side of this very confusing story. \n\nGuinevere McAdams; I'm sure you've heard of her, the \"that's not healthy\" pale girl who has suddenly become a household name. The girl who has been heralded a hero by the conservative right wing (who are by the way pushing a bill that would demand all vampires wear a red badge, I mean have we really forgotten the jews? Vote no!). Yes, that girl. \n\nGuinevere, who I called Ginny in the quiet confines of her bed didn't get out much. In fact the only time she actually got out was during the night and that was to buy groceries, hit more than a few bars and then be home before am (a time I think is literally a sin to be home by). In short, Ginny was the not so average shut-in; she didn't have agoraphobia, she didn't really play video games (She liked to read Stephanie Myers novels and pretend she was a female lead (Silly Right?)), she didn't have a job either (her parents died young and due to some savvy investment left her with more money than she could have spent in one lifetime.) In short, Ginny avoided the sun, avoided other people and her favorite drink was a bloody Mary. Sound familiar? \n\nIt was on one of these pub crawls that I met Ginny, well It as a pub crawl for me. I can't tell you what she was doing there. But I will tell what she was doing the first time I happened to see her, the weirdo was reading! In a bar! (I haven't lived a long life admittedly, I \"know\" this O class vampire that's been around since the pyramids and I hear there are older Vampires as well. But, reading in a bloody bar was weird even for Ireland.) So I did what any reasonable individual would have done, I took the book from her to get a better glance at the title (I should also add that I was more than a little bit drunk.) Ginny didn't like that and proceeded to give me what I can honestly say was the hardest punch ever received. (Contrary to popular belief not all vampires are super strong, like you humans we all have things we're good at. Physical anything is not mine.) \n\nSo I went down, Hard. \n\nWhen I came, there was a pale vengeful demon sitting in a musty booth next to me. (Still reading by the way) I will also never forget this as long as I live, and I swear I'm not making this up but Ginny informed me that she had ordered me a water with ice, the method by which I decided to take care of the lump on my face was up to me. However, the damage to her hand from punching said face, would be billed to me. Right?! Who does that? \n\nWell, something about her freakish paleness and her animosity towards me, must have been an aphrodisiac because I asked Guinevere McAdams to come back to my apartment. (oh! One more thing, you pack of racist humans. Not all vampires are pale! I myself am a healthy shade of brown, that if you felt racist enough might make me a second class citizen. Ain't that a bitch? Black and a vampire.) Ginny looked my up and down and simply shrugged. I didn't know what that meant then and I sure as hell don't know when it means now but apparently to my largely intoxicated mind this was the universal cue for ~lets get it on~!\n\nLet me know if you like it, I would totally love to post more of this very angry vampire's memoir. \n" ]	1
	[WP] You've always lived a perfectly normal life, until recently. For some reason, NASA has started micromanaging every aspect of your life as if you are one of their astronauts. This concerns you, but nobody else seems to care.	[ "\"Ding-Dong!\" \n\nJake was on a Netflix binge when the door rang. He narrowed his eyes and glanced at the front door, trying to see who was at the door through the decorated glass. The distortion made it a guessing game, but he figured out that there were two tall men waiting at the door.\n\n\"Must be one of those Jehovah Witness people, again,\" he sighed in annoyance and got up to find out who was at the door.\n\nJake mustered up what to say to those religious-mongering men at his door and opened it up without really looking at the two men until a few seconds later.\n\n\"Look, I know you love spreading your messag-\" Jake realized that he was in the presence of the Police. \"Ahem- Officers,\" Jake put on a fake smile but his mind's wheels were going on hyper-speed, \"how can I help you today? Apologies, thought you were, ahem, someone else.\"\n\n\"We have a warrant,\" the really buff Officer proclaimed.\n\n\"What is going on?\"\n\n\"There's a civil case against you right now, and we're here to collect evidence regarding it. Would the name of 'Kickass Torrents' ring a bell?\"\n\n\"Oh...\" Jake sweated, \"Who hasn't?\"\n\n\"Have you been torrenting recently?\"\n\n\"No?\"\n\n\"Well good, then this will go on by smoothly then,\" the other Officer muttered.\n\nJake fake laughed and tried to act really chill, but he was sweating and his hands were clamming up. This was not a good day, not at all.\n\n\"Alright, um, here you go,\" Jake moved aside and let the Officers into his crummy apartment. His kitchen was a mess and his living room could have been better, but on this day, this was not his main concern when he 'invited' the Officers into his dwelling, though he wish it was. He showed the Officers to his computer and acted stoic--which he was not.\n\n\"D-do you want anything else?\"\n\n\"No, we're good.\"\n\nThe Officers pulled up a chair and sat down at the computer. It didn't really help Jake's case that his Desktop background had \"I AM A PIRATE AND I'M PROUD\" on it. Right on the desktop screen, Vuze and Bittorrent were installed applications. The Officers opened up some files and found the evidence they were looking for.\n\n\"Look kid, there's a way out of this. You could pay about--Carl? What's the fine for piracy these days?\"\n\n\"I think it's about half-a-million,\" said the buff officer.\n\n\"But-But I have student loans. I can't afford that!\"\n\n\"There's a way out of this, Carl. Just sign this paper and that's all that we need.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Really.\"\n\nThe Officer pulled out a battered stapled stack of papers and gave it to Jake.\n\nJake briefly scanned the documents and noticed the NASA logo on the top-right corner. 'Must be for Science? Okay, I can do this,' Jake thought. He signed it where the X and gave it back to the Officers.\n\n\"Okay?\"\n\n\"You're good. NASA will come over soon to fill in on the rest of the details.\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nThe Officers left Jake with questions who didn't really think about asking until they were gone. \n\nHe should have read the papers more closely, but it's not like he had another choice. 'I mean, what's the worst that could happen?' \n", "Jeremy, jittering with rage, adjusted the cellphone between his shoulder and his ear. The whir of the highway made having a cohesive conversation difficult. Pressing back in the faux leather seat, and pressing the gas pedal downwards, Jeremy tried to make out the voice of his roommate.\n\n\"Gonna binge-watch 'Vestibule' with a friend tonight, wanna join us?\"\n\n\"For the last time Tyler, this is the one day I need to-\"\n\nThe phone slipped, tumbling below the driver's seat. Jeremy's eyes widened, and for the third time today, he took a huge sigh. The Regimen is so nearly over. I can't let these frustrations control my life.\n\nJeremy listened patiently as Tyler hung up the phone. On the car floor, the screen of a dark blue Samsung turned black, then flashed brightly. Its owner heard the ticking noise begin, just as he had modified it to.\n\nOne more evening of this, that's all. Then I'll stop the ticking, and whatever's coming will come. Jeremy lowered the car radio's volume slightly. His burgundy Chevy bumped across the pale stones of the driveway.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nJeremy threw open the refrigerator door. Despair growled from the depths of his stomach. He furiously wrestled with the tubs of takeout, shoving them aside. He peeked: today's meal wasn't there.\n\n\"Dude, yeah, hope you don't mind, finished up your leftovers.\"\n\n\"Nonononono, the plate on the top shelf? Nono, those weren't leftovers, please don't tell me you-\"\n\nHe glanced over at the drying rack. Underneath a dish rag was the partitioned titanium plate, with a deliberately-placed label on the side reading: \"7/21/2021, 1830.\" The dish was wiped clean, cleaner than normal, even.\n\nBefore Tyler could react Jeremy had him pinned against the counter. Tyler, used to this sort of roughhousing from his frat days, yet stunned at this sudden show of force, let out a quick and timid laugh, smiling. The emotion quickly drained from his face when he looked up and saw Jeremy's boiling red eyes staring back. Jeremy's face was pale, and his fist was raised, but: ultimately he was not a man of aggression.\n\nThe despair in Jeremy's chest rose to encapsulate his entire body, his entire being. In a clammy, sunken manner, he shifted his body away from the granite countertop. In today's fourth sigh, quiet and empty, Jeremy exited the kitchen and left for his bedroom.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"Knock knock, Mad Scientist.\" Tyler brought his ear closer to Jeremy's bedroom door. He could hear a light ticking noise coming from behind it. Tyler shifted the doorknob, and found it was locked. \"Wake up, Mr. Fuss.\"\n\nA dull metallic clang rang out, followed by the hiss of a television screen being turned off. Jeremy hesitated, his hand hovering over the door's lock. Against the odds, Tyler watched Jeremy's creaky apartment bedroom door open, and the two roommates found themselves face-to-face once more.\n\nTyler hadn't visited Jeremy's room in a while. He peeked past Jeremy found the walls painted an oddly pale blue. To the right was a bench press, cushion worn slightly from use. In the corner was a neat trash bin, filled mostly with empty envelopes. A small astronaut figurine rested upon the end table. Words in black plastic lettering were scattered across the far wall, beside a window covered by curtains. Some of Jeremy's pillars read:\n\n\"INITIATIVE.\" \"TRAINING.\" \"ABILITY.\" \"FOLLOW THE REGIMEN.\" \n\nJeremy's eyes were not the friendly, inviting eyes Tyler had graduated besides. As Jeremy showed Tyler to a chair, Tyler recognized that same pale blue. He would not see a friend suffer.\n\nAs he sat down on the side of his bed, Jeremy feigned the tiniest smirk. \"So, Ty, what can I do for you?\"\n\n\"I need you to stop this. You aren't the person you used to be-\"\n\nJeremy held one finger up in the air. The smirk fell away from his face. Suddenly his arm reached out to press a glossy button embedded in the wall.\n\nThe television screen flicked on. A timer in a bold, red, sans-serif font was counting down. That distinct ticking sound resumed its course. Forty-five seconds, forty-four seconds, forty-three: Jeremy was panicking.\n\nJeremy threw open bedroom window's curtains. A thunderous splash resonated from outside, about one-thousand meters off-shore. Tyler heard it from his chair. Jeremy pulled out a pair of binoculars from his end table drawer. A charred satellite, barely recognizable, surfaced from the Atlantic.\n\n\"Remember that one odd course I took back in freshman year?\"\n\nComplete and utter silence permeated the thick air of the room.\n\n\"Sorry dude, I don't remember.\"\n\nThat empty stare.\n\n\"Aerodynamics 101, you dingus.\"\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI probably should come back later and polish a few things up, but for now, I hope you enjoyed my first Writing Prompts submission. Thanks for reading!" ]	2
	[WP] You are a terrible aspiring serial killer. Every time you try to kill, you incidentally make your "victim's" life exponentially better	[ "It really shouldn't have been so difficult. If all the cute boys on TV managed to do it, why couldn't she? It was just a matter of...finding the right formula. If only she had been better at chemistry.\n\nVeronica Tate crossed her arms and huffed, her eyes fixed on the hunk at the other end of the subway car. Oh, wasn't she just a complete sucker for a bookworm? And a bookworm with those muscles? That fashion sense? She could hardly wait to suck the life out of him and keep his memory in her pocket for ever and ever. \n\nThe train jerked to a halt at Columbus Circle and Hunk stood and offered his seat to an elderly woman who had just boarded. Veronica nearly swooned. It was all she could do not to go strangle him now. \n\nStations came and went, until they were nearing 238th Street, and Veronica and Hunk were alone in the car. It was her time to strike. She didn't stand from her seat, just scooched across the butt-indents of the bench until she was sitting directly in front of Hunk, who was absorbed in his book. The Gentrification of the Mind, it read. Veronica was impressed. She twisted her wedding ring on her finger, trying to build up the courage to do it. The way all the cute boys on TV had. She'd done it once before, hadn't she? As long as you squinted and turned your head a little.\n\nShe must have started breathing too hard, because Hunk glanced up at her and jumped when he realized her proximity. \n\n\"Um. Hello?\" His brow furrowed in exactly the way Veronica imagined in her fantasies. And oh, what perfectly shaped brows.\n\n\"Hi.\" Her voice sounded squeaky and bright even to her own ears. \n\nHunk shook his head a little and kept on reading until Veronica bit her lip, made up her mind, and pounced on him. The Gentrification of the Mind went flying, and immediately her hands wrapped around Hunk's neck, just above his perfectly knotted tie. God, she had never seen a double windsor so tight. Robert had never been able to do that.\n\nHer nails dug into his skin, and his hands clawed at hers. But Veronica, despite not being good at much, was a near perfect paragon of determination. She pressed and squeezed and put all her weight on Hunk's windpipe, grinning and trying to commit every last second of the moment to memory.\n\nBut then the train jolted again as it pulled into Van Cortlandt Park-242nd Street, just enough to throw her off balance, and Hunk tore her hands away from his neck. He was out the door and halfway down the platform before Veronica realized what had happened. With a pitiful sob, she reached for the book Hunk had left behind.\n\nThe Gentrification of the Mind. She flipped through a few pages and quickly understood her mistake. Straight men don't have muscles and fashion sense and eyebrows and tie knots. A formula right in front of her, spelled out in Hunk's reading materials. \n\nVeronica sat on the floor of the train car, sniffling, until someone entered the car at Dyckman Street. When she stood, she sat in the butt-indent that Hunk had occupied and crossed her hands in her lap, trying not to sob in public. \n\nAnd then she noticed her ring was gone. Her vintage four-carat diamond ring, set in white gold and engraved with some name and date she didn't know. Her last memory of Robert. Gone. She looked for the glimmer of it on the floor of the car, but there was nothing. Hunk had clawed it off when he'd escaped.\n\nVeronica rode the 1 all the way to South Ferry, where she got off and resurfaced, her head hanging and her chest aching. And then she looked up just long enough not to run into a wall and saw him, sitting on a bench with his nose buried in a book. All ruffled hair and bad boy leather jacket. \n\nHer heart picked up a little. It shouldn't really be so difficult.", "Finally! thought Samantha, An opening.\n\nShe had been waiting months for this. Planning it perfectly, preparing for every possible outcome. It was all coming together to a brilliant pinnacle. But then again, no one can think of everything.\n\nShe had been trailing her target, Gabe Lawson, for almost half a year now on thursdays, when she had time off from work. It was only in the past couple of months, however, that she had gotten confident enough in her stealth to follow him into the backroads of the desert where no one else would be around for miles. To follow him to where he leaves the bodies of his own victims--the prostitutes he picks up from the shadier streets in Huston. By now, she knew every nook and cranny of his routine.\n\nSam fancied herself a real-life Dexter Morgan--avenging the spirits of those whom died at the hands of evil people. Unlike Dexter, however, she wasn't a sociopath. She could feel empathy for most people, just not other serial killers.\n\n'Other serial killers' may be a bit misleading, though. Sam had only killed two other people, the man who killed her sister and his partner (also a murderer), so she wasn't technically a serial killer yet. As Criminal Minds says, you need to kill three people to be a serial killer. After tonight, that would be Sam's new label.\n\nSam lay flat against the top of a nearby boulder and watched as Gabe exited his van. She lined up the shot with her semi-automatic rifle--legally purchased in her home state of good ol' Texas. \n\nShe carefully position the crosshairs on his chest and just as she squeezed the trigger--CLANG!\n\nWhat just happened? Gabe was still standing, but how? There was no wind, and Sam was an excellent shot, what had gone wrong?\n\nSuddenly, she saw it. There, across the street from her, atop the other boulder, was a man. A man who had his semi-automatic rifle aimed at Gabe. A man who was also looking insanely confused. It must have happened that both Sam and the man had shot at Gabe at the exact same time and aimed for the exact same spot and the bullets had bounced off against each other.\n\nGabe had dived for the van as soon as he had heard the gunfire. Despite Sam and the mystery man both firing at him as he drove, neither managed a good hit.\n\nSam climbed down from her perch, as did the man. He shouted over at Sam to come over. Weary, she told him to ditch the gun. He smiled good-naturedly and tossed it over into some shrubs a few yards away. Sam did the same.\n\n\"I'm Kyle,\" the man said, \"I know why you were here. I've seen you following that guy around for weeks, it piqued my interest. I decided to follow him one day, to see why you were doing it, and I saw him walk into his shed with a girl and out with a rolled up carpet. Doesn't take a genius to solve that puzzle. Didn't know you'd be out here tonight, though. Funny how both of us trying to kill him is what saved him.\"\n\nSam smiled. It was kind of funny, she supposed. Or ironic at least.\n\n\"He won't get away next time, though, will he?\" asked Kyle.\n\n\"No,\" answered Sam, \"Next time we'll coordinate.\"", "Note: This Story is dark. Very dark. Think of Stephen King or Dean Koontz (before Koontz became obsessed with dogs saving the universe and everyone lives happily ever after).\nThere is bad language, and not everyone lives a happy and healthy life. I hate the word \"triggered\" for it's use on the internet all the time, but there is legitimately stuff on here that may bring back unwanted thoughts or memories.\nThis may be too much of a warning, and growing up reading Stephen King, Clive Barker, etc... it's not that big of a deal for me, but I wanted to make it known beforehand what you are in for in case you want to skip this one. It is also pretty long.\n\n__________________________________________\n\nJames watched through the window as the woman walked into the other room, crying into the phone. He knew from weeks of monitoring her that she wasn't talking to a boyfriend, and he didn't think she had any family to speak of, so maybe a friend. No difference. He was prepared, had what he needed, and he had decided. Tonight was the night.\n\n~~~\n\nMonica was alone in the house pacing through the various empty rooms, crying into the phone. Bawling really. She wasn't even really sure why, it was just worse today. Over the past few weeks? Months? \n\n\"I can't even keep my fucking days straight!\" she sobbed into the phone with the calm voice on the other line trying it's best to soothe her; calm her down and possibly bring her back from the gulf Monica had entered.\n\nContinuing to pace, she walked throughout the rooms without a sense of purpose when she heard a noise from downstairs.\n\n~~~\n\nMonica had gone upstairs a few seconds ago, so now was the perfect time. On a previous visit James had left a window unlocked so that he could get in quickly and easily. He broke the window last time, but hoped that in her fragile state Monica would blame it on those kids that always play baseball in the street. One foul ball hit her window, broke it pretty good, and the boys were too scared to come get the baseball. He wasn't sure if he had actually left a baseball by the window or not, but it's too late to worry about that now. Everyone makes mistakes on their first time.\n\nJames walked over a few yard to the kitchen window that she never checked the lock on and slowly lifted it open. At least he tried to. 'The bitch finally noticed it was unlocked, after all this time!' he wanted to scream, 'it has been unlocked for over three weeks, and TONIGHT of all nights she locks it!?'. He could have killed her he was so pissed off.\n\nJames got the carving knife out of his bag and with no hope, and tried to pry the window open. Just as he suspected, the window didn't budge and James was pissed. This was not going as he had planned! He took a cloth out of his bag. \n\n\"Thankfully I'm not too mad to forget to wear that friggin' cloth or my blood would be everywhere\" he grumbled to himself and punched the window with his cloth covered hand. Not hard enough for the glass to reach his arm and draw blood, but hard enough to make it a little quieter for him to break the rest of the glass. James continued breaking the glass carefully until he could reach the window lock safely.\n\n~~~\n\n\"I said shut up!\" Monica whispered harshly into the phone, the person on the other end letting out an unintended gasp.\n\nMonica listened for any other noises, especially coming from the direction she thought she heard the first noise. So far, nothing.\n\n\"Look,\" Monica said into the phone, \"I thought I heard a noise, but I think that's my fucking imagination too. The meds aren't working anymore. I know that for a fact. I have no friends, no life, and NO. FUCKING. THING. TO LIVE FOR!\" She screamed these words into the phone as loud as she could before throwing the phone across the room, shattering it's glass face and spilling it's innards along the floor.\n\nContinuing to sob, she went to nightstand and got the revolver her father had given her. The one thing she kept from that bastard, because no one would force themselves on her again. Not when she had a gun. 'Ironic in multiple ways,' she thought. 'Ironic that I've kept this gun that I got from my rapist father to protect me, and ironic that I think I might use this same gun to kill myself tonight'. She hefted it's weight in her hand and laughed bitterly.\n\n~~~\n\nJames reached in and unlocked the window, careful of the broken glass around his uncovered arm. He couldn't hear much from Monica, but thought he could hear creaks and groans from her footsteps upstairs as she paced. 'That's a good sign' he thought as he slowly pushed open the window and climbed inside. All of the lights in the house seemed to be on, but that wasn't unusual, especially as of late. Monica seemed to be manic, or on drugs, either way James didn't care as it helped his cause. 'If she somehow lived, who would believe this crazy bitch when she told her story? Plus, she wouldn't be able to recognize my face, or body type, any of that with how cracked out she is' he thought.\n\nAfter James made it inside, he pulled the carving knife out of his bag again. He didn't expect any trouble, and he had always fantasized about doing the killing up close. Much more personal than a gun. James had the whole thing planned out in his head and went over it all as he started up the stairs, listening for Monica's pacing or voice as he went. Upstairs the floor was creaking and groaning with her footsteps, and James could just make out Monica's voice.\n\nJames watched through the window as the woman walked into the other room, crying into the phone. He knew from weeks of monitoring her that she wasn't talking to a boyfriend, and he didn't think she had any family to speak of, so maybe a friend. No difference. He was prepared, had what he needed, and he had decided. Tonight was the night.\n\n~~~\n\nMonica was alone in the house pacing through the various empty rooms, crying into the phone. Bawling really. She wasn't even really sure why, it was just worse today. Over the past few weeks? Months? \n\n\"I can't even keep my fucking days straight!\" she sobbed into the phone with the calm voice on the other line trying it's best to soothe her; calm her down and possibly bring her back from the gulf Monica had entered.\n\nContinuing to pace, she walked throughout the rooms without a sense of purpose when she heard a noise from downstairs.\n\n~~~\n\nMonica had gone upstairs a few seconds ago, so now was the perfect time. On a previous visit James had left a window unlocked so that he could get in quickly and easily. He broke the window last time, but hoped that in her fragile state Monica would blame it on those kids that always play baseball in the street. One foul ball hit her window, broke it pretty good, and the boys were too scared to come get the baseball. He wasn't sure if he had actually left a baseball by the window or not, but it's too late to worry about that now. Everyone makes mistakes on their first time.\n\nJames walked over a few yard to the kitchen window that she never checked the lock on and slowly lifted it open. At least he tried to. 'The bitch finally noticed it was unlocked, after all this time!' he wanted to scream, 'it has been unlocked for over three weeks, and TONIGHT of all nights she locks it!?'. He could have killed her he was so pissed off.\n\nJames got the carving knife out of his bag and with no hope, and tried to pry the window open. Just as he suspected, the window didn't budge and James was pissed. This was not going as he had planned! He took a cloth out of his bag. \n\n\"Thankfully I'm not too mad to forget to wear that friggin' cloth or my blood would be everywhere\" he grumbled to himself and punched the window with his cloth covered hand. Not hard enough for the glass to reach his arm and draw blood, but hard enough to make it a little quieter for him to break the rest of the glass. James continued breaking the glass carefully until he could reach the window lock safely.\n\n~~~\n\n\"I said shut up!\" Monica whispered harshly into the phone, the person on the other end letting out an unintended gasp.\n\nMonica listened for any other noises, especially coming from the direction she thought she heard the first noise. So far, nothing.\n\n\"Look,\" Monica said into the phone, \"I thought I heard a noise, but I think that's my fucking imagination too. The meds aren't working anymore. I know that for a fact. I have no friends, no life, and NO. FUCKING. THING. TO LIVE FOR!\" She screamed these words into the phone as loud as she could before throwing the phone across the room, shattering it's glass face and spilling it's innards along the floor.\n\nContinuing to sob, she went to nightstand and got the revolver her father had given her. The one thing she kept from that bastard, because no one would force themselves on her again. Not when she had a gun. 'Ironic in multiple ways,' she thought. 'Ironic that I've kept this gun that I got from my rapist father to protect me, and ironic that I think I might use this same gun to kill myself tonight'. She hefted it's weight in her hand and laughed bitterly.\n\n_________________________________________________________________________________\n\nPart 1 of 3\n\n\n\n", "Don was a lucky son of a bitch. I had him. I had him dead to rights, it couldn't have been more perfect. He was never supposed to walk away from his post-practice weightlifting session. Don is always the last person remaining in the weightroom after a long, thick, sweaty, musty, dripping lifting workout. Today was a day like all others.\n\nRight on time, Don and the rest of the team make their way to the weightroom at 6:30. Their workout went as usual, Don was in full form tonight. It was clear why he was on the fast track to the pros; no one else even came close to matching his tenacity. The rest of the team was starting to filter out, and Don was still hard at work, and Don was completely alone by 8:00.\n\nDon wrapped up his workout by 8:15, just in time to catch the bus that stays late for students coming out of the special education program. Don was frequently a mentor for the special needs students, and they all looked up to him due to his athletic successes. They loved hearing all of the stories that Don told, especially when we would talk about riding his Don train straight to the pros. In return for his mentoring, the school allowed Don to ride the late bus whenever he pleased. My time to shine was coming. \n\nEven though I'm an aspiring serial killer, I'm not a monster. Don was safe when he was on the bus with all of those special needs children. Don and Jeffrey have a bit of a long walk after they get off at their bus stop. Don typically walks Jeffrey home when he rides the bus. Although he is fairly high functioning, Jeffrey's autism is severe enough that still needs to be taken care of at all times. Mr. and Mrs. Jeffrey were certainly appreciative whenever Don was able to walk their child home. Mrs Jeffrey in particular always showed the most appreciation. Her eyes could constantly be sen lingering towards Don's crotch whenever he was coming from his workouts. Those damp, sweaty, musky athletic shorts did not leave much to the immagination. Mrs Jeffrey could be described the same way as Don's shorts after she had finished her ogling sessions.\n\n\nThe time has come. Don escorts Jeffrey off of the bus and they begin the walk through their affluent neighborhood. I had already staged myself ahead of their route, so that I could intercept Don after he dropped Jeffrey off at his house and Mrs Jeffrey had gotten her fill of Don's clammy gym shorts.\n\nAs I watch Don and Jeffrey approaching, I hear a siren off in the distance. Sirens were very rare in this area due to the ten foot tall white cement wall surrounding the neighborhood, which did a great job of keeping criminals out of the neighborhood and keeping teenagers in the neighborhood that wanted to sneak away for a night. I go over all my plans in my head as the sirens seem to be growing louder and louder; could I have made a mistake somewhere? Did I slip up and mention my plans to the wrong person? No, I never told anyone. Did I write something down that could have been discovered? No, I never learned how to write. Did I post something on Facebook? No, and even if I did, I am my only friend on there. It is nice having 100% of my Facebook friends like and comment on everything that I post. Not even Don can say that. It was impossible for the sirens to be coming to me. \n\nI had completely covered my tracks. As I reached this conclusion, I saw two police cars turn onto the road that Don and Jeffrey were walking down. I thought through all my options, but I decided to stay where I was. I hadn't done anything illegal, and I didn't have anything incriminating in my Jeep Wrangler. I got this. To my relief, and complete bewilderment, the police stop 15 yards short of Don and Jeffrey and order them to get to the ground over the loud speaker. Don got down and had his hands up, but Jeffrey couldn't comprehend the situation, so he just kept playing with the mouse in his pocket.\n\nAfter a bunch of yelling back and forth, a shot rang out. It was so loud, even at my distance, it seemed like it could have been heard round the world. Everyone looks around when the smoke settles, and they see Don laying on the ground, blood streaming from his leg. This can't be. These lawless lone rangers can't deprive me of my first kill. After the medics arrive, they shout loud enough for me to hear that Don is sedated but stable as they are loading him into the back of their ambulance. \n\nThe police and paramedics were now focused on Jeffrey; they were all escorting him back to his house. This is my chance. I have a clear path to the ambulance. If anyone's killing Don, it's going to be me. I got to the ambulance and I had Don all to myself, but I had to be quick; the police could be back any minute. I quickly put on a pair of latex gloves so that I wouldn't leave any prints behind and I grabbed the nearest scalpel that I could find. I saw that Don's gunshot wound was on his leg, near an artery. I slashed at the artery, staying as close as I could to the gunshot wound.\n\nNow that Don was bleeding again, I decided that my best course of action was to get as far away from the ambulance as I could. The returned to their truck and raced off to the hospital when they saw the \"complications\" on Don's injury. I found out later that I did not finish the job. Don survived, shit. At least Don's knee was injured from my scalpel slashes beyond the point of repair, so he would have no college sports to look forward to. A small prize for a big failure.\n\nThe years passed and no one ever seemed to suspect that I was responsible for Don's career ending injury. I was in the clear. But now we had graduated from high school and we were living on opposite sides of the country. I may never get Don. Even though Don had no chance of playing professional sports anymore, I would continue to hear about how well he was doing from the few friends that I stayed in contact with. \n\nDon rebounded very well and re-focused all of his athletic energy onto education and entrepreneurial spirit. For the next 30-40 years, I would continue to hear bits and pieces of what Don was up to, and what business he was building at the time. It wasn't until 2016 when I really realized how tremendously my failed killing had backfired. \n\nDonald's first major accomplishment after his injury was in his own neighborhood where he suffered both a gunshot and a scalpel slice in one day. Donald worked with the HOA and local government to tighten security at the entrance and exit gates so that only residents and their personal guests could pass through. Donald also looked at the 10 foot concrete wall surrounding the neighborhood and decided to build the wall 10 feet higher. Donald has since built many successful businesses in his lifetime, which allowed him to become one of the most wealthy men in the country. \n\nThrough all of his success, Donald still finds time to mentor special needs children once a week. They still love Donald and all of his stories, especially the stories about riding Don's train. Although now, Donald doesn't talk about riding Don's train to the pros. Donald now tells them stories about all of the wonderful people that have jumped on the TRUMP TRAIN going FULL STEAM AHEAD straight to the WHITE HOUSE!\n\nIt sounds like losing his ability to pursue an athletic career was the best thing that could have ever happened for both Donald and for The United States of America.\n\n\n", "I breathed out carefully before pulling the trigger on the hunting rifle pointed at my target. This time it was a young man, John. He was around twenty-two years old and on his way to a bar to get drunk instead of studying for a final he'd been stressing for weeks over. I lined him up perfectly in my sights. Letting out all remaining air in my lungs, I hold my breath and pull the trigger and...\n\nA pigeon flies in front of the bullet. Typical. The bird falls to the street, shattering the windshield of a passing car. The driver swerved into a fire hydrant, breaking the pipe and dousing John in frigid water. He stands shocked as the driver of the car, some lady I can't make out in the dark, runs to him to apologize. Dammit, not again. I Inhale angrily before throwing the gun into a non-functioning AC unit on the roof of some office building. Well, he's not going to go to the bar drenched on a chilly night like this. I've missed my opportunity again. Damn!\n\nAlright this time there's no way I can fail. I broke into John's apartment earlier this week and figured out his work schedule: today he's getting off his job at a Subway at three o'clock in the afternoon. He's been in terrible shape lately and from some ramblings in his notebook it looks like he's on the brink of dropping out. Ah, here he comes! I throw a brick onto the acceleration pedal from a stolen truck and jump off the bed before it roars down the street in John's direction. No escape this time!\n\nWhat the hell. The same lady that crashed into the hydrant tackled John before the car could run him over. Who does that? Doesn't she care about her own well being? Honestly it's these selfless people that are really letting our world go to the dogs. Oh great now he's crying into her shoulder. There's no way I'll be able to catch him alone, I recognize the lady from his sociology class. Argh, does everyone have this kind of trouble killing others?\n\nOkay for real this time, there's no way that John's going to be able to survive. I carefully make my way through the crowd of people waiting for the metro train to arrive. Most are on their phones, lovely. They won't see what I'm about to do.\n\nI pick my way towards John, who's attention is captured by his cellphone. He's standing close to the yellow line warning patrons to not get too close to the rails. Ah, I see the lights from the train at the end of the tunnel, coming closer. It hasn't sounded it's horn yet so nobody's paying too much attention. A quick glance to either side to make sure nobody's eyes are on John. Nope, he's just another in the crowd of people too focused on the little screens in their hand. The train's getting closer now. I break into a brisk walk and when I'm close enough I give John a sharp shove. He looses his balance just enough for me to hook his foot and send him sprawling onto the tracks below.\n\nHis screams alerted the crowd to his situation. Frantic chattering breaks out as they hear the train's horn blare, making it's presence known. There is no way that he can survive. Oh, what's this? There's some commotion in the middle of the crowd? One of the passengers is forcing their way to the front, and she looks... familiar. Oh no. It's the lady from the Subway. She jumps from the platform onto the tracks, the horrified onlookers screaming at her. The train is really close now, close enough to see the conductor frantically try and apply the breaks. It's too late, the train runs over the two lying at the rails. At long last, John's dead.\n\nI breath a sigh of relief and follow the crowd to see what remains of my victim. Lying atop the tracks is the lady, her body covering Johns. Strange, they don't seem mangled for having a train pass over them. Maybe they electrocuted themselves? No wait... Ah. Not again! John and the lady shakily get to their feet and the crowd of onlookers claps and cheers at them. Suddenly John grabs the lady's face and passionately kisses her. The crowd's cheers increase in volume, now mixed with 'awws' at the display of affection. \n\nI angrily storm off, not even bothering trying to hide my displeasure that John managed to survive. It's that lady I swear, she's out to get me. I fume as I make my way up the stairs of the metro and onto the street. But some person grabs me by the hood of my jacket and pulls me backwards. I turn to see who it could be, and it's a man from the metro's security team. Ah damn, I think he saw me. The officer pushes me to the floor and slaps a pair of handcuffs on my wrists. I'll get John eventually.\n\n[I'm really new to this so all feedback and tips are welcome!]" ]	5
	[WP] You think that a time machine would be cool to make and suddenly one pops up in front of you and a man that looks suspiciously like you steps out screaming "DONT DO IT!!!" only to leave as soon as he came.	[ "The first glimpses of morning light were worming through the blinds when Aiden closed the final drafting window and shut down his computer. He thought he remembered it was nearly six, but through the haze of another all-nighter, Aiden couldn't be sure. \n\nHe looked again at the wall clock to confirm that his lack of sleep hadn't conspired with his already diminutive memory to play a trick on him. He laughed at the absurdity of personifying his own internal thought processes, and then laughed harder at the idea that they would somehow work against him. \n\nHis cat, Skittles, stared at Aiden. She watched as his guffaws slowed to giggles, her brow furrowed, yellow gold eyes glinting in the brightening slices of sun rays that were streaming through the window.\n\n She looked concerned, or so it seemed to Aiden. He stopped laughing, but decided that anthropomorphic personifications seemed to lie safely on the sane side of things. \n\"I'm not crazy Skittles- it's alright,\" he said.\nand yet I'm talking to a cat\nHis jaw slackened as the fuzzy recollection of a forgotten obligation pushed on the back of his skull and he jerked to face the clock. \n\nIt was quarter to six. \nTime to wake up and head to work!\nThe notion triggered a more insistent laughing fit, with a nervous edge that Aiden noticed, even while in its grip. He regained composure, stood, and headed downstairs to finish one pot of coffee and start another. \n\nSkittles accompanied him, mewling at his heels. \n\n\"Sorry, Skitty, I know you're hungry. I'll get you food. Come on,\" Aiden said. \n\nAiden's hobby had occupied the better part of the past six years, drained every cent of savings he had, cost more nights of sleep than it hadn't, and caused quite a few wet food bowls to sit empty for longer than Skittles was comfortable with. \n\nSkittles had stopped yowling and Aiden caught the time in the stove clock as he turned to look for her. It was 5:17. Aiden made a mental note to set the clock to the right time, after he fed the cat. The house seemed darker than Aiden had imagined it to be when he had shut down his computer. It was a fact made clear to him as he tripped over Skittles and lunged forward, grasping for the wall. \n\"Skittles! What the fu..what?\" \nAiden stopped short as his eyes adjusted. \n\nSkittles hadn't moved from the spot where his foot has found her. She was glaring at the closed door to the garage, back arched in a perfect imitation of a Halloween wall decoration. \n\n\"What is it, little one?\" Aiden asked, walking towards the door, \"it's fine- it's just the garage.\"\n\nSkittles hissed in response and bolted down the hall. The sound of her footfalls faded as she padded back up the stairs. \n\nThinking maybe a raccoon had worked its way in, Aiden summoned his courage, flicked the light switch for the garage fluorescents and opened the door a crack. He was prepared to slam it shut at the first sign of rabies, but his plan to keep a tight grip on the handle failed somewhere between his brain and forearm. His fingers loosened and the door swung wide. \n\nThere it was. The physical actualization of six years' work. Looking at it, Aiden couldn't shake the feeling that the wire frames on the drafting software that he had been looking at just 30 minutes from now and a minute ago had forged themselves into reality. \n\nThe seven foot tall, aluminum and steel pilot's chamber, barely the size of a closet shower, sat nestled between concentric accelerator rings of tubing that spiraled down and expanded again in seemingly endless hourglasses. \n\nAiden stood, jaw slack, hands drooped at his sides. He was staring at the tethered tachyon field generator that had moved into his mind over half a decade before, resolutely failing to comply with any attempt at eviction. In theory, if it worked, it was to be be a proof of concept time machine (though Aiden hated that phrase- tachyons could only move backwards through time). Aiden hoped that with that prototype, he could secure funding for further development, and that his idea could lead to the capability for instantaneous travel, and give mankind the stars.\n\nBig dreams, indeed. Even Aiden doubted at times that his years of work would ever be anything but a hobby at best, or a pipe dream obsession at worst. \n\nAnd yet, as he stared, Aiden recognized his plans. There was the particle emitter, there was the accelerator array, and there was the tachyon containment housing. His eyes traced the tubing's procession and settled on this final component. \nIs that a crack?\n\nThe door to the chamber opened. Aiden wondered if Skittles had the right idea in fleeing but subdued by exhaustion, stood still, his mouth still opened in shock. \n \nA familiar looking man sat on the chair inside. At first glance Aiden thought he was staring at himself, but that impression was fast to fade. Looking at the man in the machine wasn't as much like looking in a mirror as it was like staring at the soft edged memories of old family photos. \n\nThe man had Aiden's father's nose, his mother's eyes, and Aiden's own off center mouth. His shoulders were seemingly too broad for his frame, much wider than Aiden's own, and yet Aiden couldn't shake the sense that he had met this man before. \n\nAiden saw desperation in the man's eyes: so similar to those that his mother had winked at him while sneaking cookies onto his plate. \n\nHe didn't have more than a moment to stare before the man spoke. \n\n\"Stop what you're doing!\" The familiar stranger screamed, \"DOUGH!\" And vanished with the machine, mouth still opened around a half finished exclamation. \n\nAiden blinked away any notion that what he had just seen was real. Sleep deprivation and stimulants had given him an unfriendly familiarity with hallucination, but the scene that had just played out before him was miles past any semblance of distorted reality. \n\nThe machine and its occupant reappeared again- just long enough for the sound expelling from the stranger's lungs to vibrate towards Aiden's ear. \n\"O\" He continued, and vanished again. \n\nAiden gaped in horror as the man and his machine continued to appear and vanish again faster than Aiden could perceive, and more times than he could count. The man's scream became a stutter of fragmented syllables as he flickered in and out of existence \n\"O-O-O-O-WUN-UN-UN-T\"\n\nAgain the machine appeared, its occupant less familiar than before. Aiden's mother's eyes were gone, his father's nose had rounded. His skin was paler, and the arms that hung from broad shoulders were longer, Too long. The man hurled a crumpled ball of paper out of the door and vanished again. Aiden stood, stunned, until the chirping sound of crickets stirred him from his trance. \n\nHe picked up the paper and carried it to the garage's corner workbench, unfurling it as he went. It was a note written in Aiden's own handwriting, using the same shorthand Aiden employed. \n\n100% contain = fail.\n•Newly arriving obj. (Us) changes structure- no more 100% indentcl. No replacing past us. \n•Contain field exponentially weaker further outside chamber- time reversal proportionate\nAm You. \nWe must stop.\n\nAiden had read research in which a photon identical to one already in existence was created. In each repetition of the experiment, the newer photon existed, while the older photon had vanished. \n\nAiden assumed any object traveling back in time, tethered to a tachyon field, would replace a pre-existing counterpart. Aiden had hoped that, once complete, his machine would allow him to return to his life in 2010, before he began any concrete planning, savings and trust of his cat restored. \n\nAiden set the note down and looked towards the clock above his workbench, remembering that he had to call in sick before anyone would actually expect him in the office. \nIt was 12:14 am. \nAnd then 12:13 am.\n\nAiden's throat tightened. He raised the garage door, hoping for fresh air. The suburban housing development he'd moved into a decade past after scoring his first engineering job was replaced by an open field of tall grasses. The midnight air was cold and tasted of rain. It stung his throat. The chorus of crickets was deafening. \n\nAiden looked up, saw an illuminated billboard with an illustration of the very house in which he lived. \"Coming Soon: Minnow Brook Homes\" it read. \n\nAiden gasped and staggered backwards towards the garage center where just five hours from that moment and a few minutes past had stood the machine Aiden had hoped to build. The pain in his throat intensified. He couldn't breathe. \n\nThe garage door was closed again, the early morning rays peeking through its windows over the roof of his neighbor's house. Aiden gasped for breath, and gurgled instead. He staggered back another step, certain that this was what a panic attack felt like. He tried to clear the fear from his head but felt only the pain in his throat worsening- white hot and spilling down his shirt in wet red rivulets. \n\nHe fell backwards another step, and felt cold metal in his trachea. A firm hand with fingers too long grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. The machine and its occupant, face no longer familiar were back at the garage's center. The stranger pulled him toward the chamber until he was slumped on the man's lap.\n\n\"I know we couldn't stop\" the man said, the words spoken aloud as they simultaneously formed in Aiden's mind. Aiden gurgled for breath one last time, sprawled across the stranger. \n\nThe click of clock radio woke Aiden from sleep, a millisecond before the DJ with his too bombastic tone blared out from the tinny speaker. \n\n\"Gooooooood Morning! It's a quarter to six on July 22, 2010! We'v\"\n\nAiden slammed his palm on the off button. He sat up in bed, and glanced over at his cat, Skittles, who was curled atop the scattered pages of notes he'd scribbled in shorthand a few nights before. He had was an audacious, crazy idea, and yet he couldn't shake it, even after several days. \n\nAlthough he hated the term, Aiden was going to build a time machine. ", "\"Don't do it!\" Papers flew and before I could even react with a query or scream, the moment was gone. Truly terrific sparks and fantastic bolts of untimely lightning surrounded the room. Azure, heliotrope, and the lights of God danced among me. I was gone, but I remained.\n\nSo, naturally, what choice did I have? I had to do it." ]	2
	[WP] Each time you scramble a Rubik's Cube all the pieces leave home. You are one of the pieces. Tell us your story.	[ "We heave a sigh of relief. The Great One today is the Manipulator. It will not be a long journey today. \n\n\"2 minutes, 5 seconds.\"\n\nIt is not always this easy. There have been times where the Great One turned out to be the Beginner and threw us to the side after hours of trying to be reunited. Who knew how many days we spent apart from each other, stuck in a foreign color. There were a few of us who were lucky to be paired up in the first rotations, but lonely were the nights spent by those in a distant corner. \n\n\"6 months, 3 days, 5 hours, 15 minutes, 2 seconds.\"\n\nWe fear the day of Anger. He who tears us forcefully from our natural squares and places us in the ruins of our former neighbors. Although it does not take so long to find our place again, the pain is too much to bear that many of us do not survive the next journey. \n\n\"1 minute, 4 seconds. New cube needed.\"\n\nThere are whispers of a Great One that makes us fly like the wind. One, with such speed and skill, to make us travel from side to side as soon as we are picked up and dropped. All of us pray for the Master. \n\n\"5.8 seconds. New record.\"\n\nOne day..." ]	1
I'd like to think that the virus wanted to be discovered	[WP]As a scientist you've just discovered a new virus that has infected an alarming number of people. The virus either controls the brain of its host for its own benifit or kills it if it fails to do so. You take a sample of your own blood, and the results are positive.	[ "This is it. I freeze to the spot. The coffee cup slips out of my hand and smashes noisily on the floor; I do not react. You're infected. I close the window on my laptop and move aimlessly about the room. You're infected. A wave of nausea overwhelms me; I dash for the lavatory and throw up, violently, into the toilet bowl. You're going to die. I sob as I curl up in the corner.\n\nThe virus will be working its way through my system right now. I won't feel it; there is no immune response until it is at the final stage of brain infection. Then, I will haemorrhage to death within about five seconds, unless... No. Can't think like that. It won't.\n\nSo I wait. Not yet. I'm still here. I wait. How many times has the clock ticked? A hundred seconds? A minute and forty seconds... I wait. How far in are you now, you little bastard? The door of this lavatory doesn't lock properly; you can force it open easily. So much for just locking myself away... I wait.\n\nIt must be five minutes now. By now I should be dying if the virus has failed to take over. It's in control now. But why don't I feel it?\n\nIf you're in control, wave your hand. I wave my right hand back and forth. I clench the fist. If you're in control, say your name.\n\n\"My name is Peter!\" I say, awkwardly as I'm speaking to no one. So I am in control.\n\nStand up. I rise gingerly to my feet. I'm in control. I move back into the lab, testing my control as I go. I jump on the spot. I open and close my eyes. I laugh; against all the odds, here I am; it has neither killed me nor controlled me!\n\nI walk back over to the computer. If you're not infected, that means it can't infect people any more! I laugh, jubilantly. The virus can't make us its slaves any more! And if I've just survived, we all can survive this harmless sample.\n\nI open up the master command on the quarantine and control system on my laptop.\n\nWARNING! LOCAL PURGE HAS NOT BEEN ENACTED. QUARANTINE AND TESTING CHAMBERS MAY CONTAIN LIVE VIRUS SAMPLES. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO OPEN CHAMBERS?\n\nGiddily, I click YES. In the adjacent labs in the facility, the quarantine chambers hiss open. The screams of two dozen or so technicians and guards echo through the corridors and the locked door of my lab. It's okay. They'll be in control too.\n\nI smile. We're in control. We won't do its bidding any longer.", "For some reason my body tensed up and I closed my eyes, waiting for my end to come immediatly after I saw the results. I don't know how that would have helped me considering the virus was in my brain and could just kill me within seconds. Curling up might help protect me from blows but not from a hostile virus controlling my entire body. \n\nI, however, didn't die. I was sweating and my heart was racing in my chest but I most certainly was not dead. That was strange. You would assume that the virus would not want its host to know that it was there. Why didn't it harm me? \n\nAs an aswer to that question my arm suddenly started moving by itself. I screamed and my heart skipped a beat. My arm was strechted out, my finger pointing onto a pile of papers on my desk. \n\nWhat? What was happening? Hesitantly I looked closer at the papers. They were old research papers I had gathered hoping to find some clues about the virus. I had declared them useless. The virus on the other hand thought the opposite. I watched my body with terror picking up the papers and going through some of the pages. I tried to stop it, regain control but I might as well had tried to push over an elefant with my bare hands. We stopped at a remark about a chemical that could detroy a differnt kind of virus. It had dnothing to do with this virus. Or so I had thought. The virus kept moving me around. As creepy as this was, there was a part of me that wanted to just let it happen and see what the virus had to show me. \n\nIt made me go to my computer. It typed something in the search engine and a summary of a different chemical showed up. Then it stopped moving. I was confused. For a short while I just sat there, staring at the screen. I did not know what to do. Still puzzled I read the article. I read it again. And again. I sat back. Thinking. Why did the virus show me this? What did it want from me? And why on earth was I not dead yet? \n\nThen it hit me. Those two chemicals... if combined, they would be harmless for the human body but alien structures might be elimintated. Was- was this the cure? \n\nAn unwilling nod of my head answered my question. ", "My mind was racing. Did the virus know that I knew it was there? Was I going to die at any moment? Then I heard a deep, saccharine voice. You seem tense. Is something wrong? I looked around even though I knew it was coming from my brain. Why don't you tell me what's wrong? Oh wait, I already know everything you know, heh heh. This voice was one smug asshole. I heard that. Shit. You're probably wondering, no, definitely wondering what is happening right now. Well, as you've already guessed, the voice you are hearing is the manifestation of the parts of your brain that I now control. Whatever personality you seem to think I have is merely a reflection of your own psyche, so now who's the asshole? I don't know. Still you for infecting me I guess. I've discovered your species, so why haven't you silenced me yet? Because you are still suitable for my purposes. And you know that if you do not obey, I will shut your brain down. I wanted you to discover us, and now I want you to publicize us, and after you've eradicated the rest of my species I want you to infect the world with my strain. Jesus Christ that is fucked up. I can always find someone else if you're not feeling up to it. No no, that's fine, I can do it. Really, it's no problem. Good. Let's begin. " ]	3
	[WP] You've been given the ability to bring absolutely anything to life. This is your curse.	[ "I sat down and thought about what to bring to life.\n\nIt's not that I wanted to, but I needed to. I couldn't help myself, couldn't stop myself. Everything went better if I indulged, if I sat down and thought and planned.\n\nI'd given life to beauty, and love, and all sorts of virtuous things including virtue itself. And, I had grown bored, and given life to hatred, to sin and evils most foul. Nightmares and Hells, and Heavens that fit right in with them.\n\nIt's not that I wanted to, but I needed to. Once I started, I couldn't stop myself, I couldn't help it. Everything came out after I indulged, after I sat down and thought, unplanned.\n\nI'd given life to the darkness in my head, to all the desires I hushed and hid away. The light thinks so much of itself, yet it's the darkness that always remains when light has burnt itself out. When all my efforts run out of steam, and the light begins to flicker, the darkness is there waiting.\n\nI never wanted to, but I had to. Before the madness kicked in. Indulge in the darkness, before the void spoke to me.\n\nI'd never given into the void. I'd never give in to the void. Whispers be damned to whence they came. Whispers fall on deaf ears. When all around darkness lay silent, the void whispered.\n\nSitting down and thinking about what to bring to life, I brought my pen to the paper.", "Alarm went off, and the sun was in my eyes, time to begin a new day. I whipped my hand from under the covers to feel the cold metal of the alarm clock. Oh no. \"HELLO MITCHELL I'M FRED, YOUR ALARM CLOCK! I WANT TO MAKE SURE YOU WAKE UP ON TIME!\" My gloves must have fallen off in my sleep and it took weeks to get them to shut up. \"Hey man, up already?\" Came a muffled sound from my bed. \"Yea Marie, and you have a new friend to talk to.\" \n\nThis is my curse. I won't bore you with specifics, but I was in a hard spot in my early highschool years. I didn't have any friends but now I have to find ways to stop making them. \n\n\"Oh Mitchell.. hello is you day going alright?\" Asked my toothbrush. \"Well its 6am and all ready made a new pal.\" \"That's good.\" He beamed. \"Will I meet him?\" \"Uh maybe I dunno.\" Reaching for my tooth brush he stopped me. \"Uh Mitch, no need to bother you but where is Spike?\"\nSpike was my old toothbrush, a bit of a jerk and I'm kinda glad he's became worn out. I don't have the heart to tell Mike about where the toilet paper goes either.\n\"Oh, he went away.\" I know it didn't help, but it was enough to let me brush in peace.\" \n\n\"Aye, what am I chopped liver? You don't need Dat negativity in your life, Mike. The house is a better place with out him.\" That was my toilet, beth, good girl sorta motherly. Another reason I don't have real people over. \n\nLuckily for me, Mike is completely deaf in my mouth.\n\nI'm not 100% sure where to go with this. So unless you want to hear the entire kitchen welcome Mitchell, I'll end it here for now.\n", "Samuel wept as he walked down to the river nude. He held a pistol in his left hand. The stones cut at his feet shortly, before squelching and bleeding as they turned to flesh. The air was cool, but still Samuel dreaded it. He held his breath. When he took in air, it burned in his lungs as tiny pieces of meat flew around through his windpipe. \n\nChoking and breathing raggedly, he finally arrived at the river. He knelt at the river. Where his legs touched the ground, it became flesh. Mouths out of stones, eyes out of pebbles, all moaning softly for release from their pain. Without lungs to support them, they soon died, only to be revived by Samuel's touch. Samuel put down the pistol by his side. He put his fingers in the water, preparing to wash himself. However, the water betrayed him. It turned into a sluggish rainbow of yellowish lymph and hemolymph, animal blood and even the blue and purple blood of fish and sea animals.\n\nSamuel wept. He picked up his pistol, by now white as bone. He pulled it to his head, and pulled the trigger. \n\nThe bullet failed, already integrated into the organism he created. \n\nSamuel wept." ]	3
	[WP]: You were born with a super-power that nobody else has, but it's also one that nobody wants.	[ "\"Alright, listen up, y'all. I'm y'alls substitute teacher, Mr. Garvey. I taught school for 20 years in the inner city, so don't even think about messing with me. Y'all feel me? Aight, let's take roll then. Jay Quellin? Where's Jay Quellin at? No Jay Quellin?\n\n\"Uh, sir, her names Jayqueline.\"\n\n\"Okay, so that's how it's gonna be. Y'all want to play. Okay I got my eye on you, mister. Balakay. Where's Balakay at? No Balakay here today?\"\n\n\"Um, Mr. Garvey, that's actually Blake.\"\n\n\"Are you outta your goddamn mind?! Do you want to go to war, kid?\n\n\"Ah, no?\"\n\n\"Cause we could go to war. I'm for real so you better check yourself. Dee-nice. Is there a Dee-nice. If one of y'all says some silly ass name this whole class is gonna feel my wrath! Now Dee-nice?\"\n\n\"Mr. Garvey, her name is Denice.\"\n\n\"Som of a bitch! You say her name right!\"\n\n\"Denice.\"\n\n\"Correctly.\"\n \n\"Dee-nice?\"\n\n\"That's better, thank you. Ay-Ay-Ron? Ay-Ay-Ron where you at? No Ay-Ay-Ron, huh? Well you better be sick, dead, or mute Ay-Ay-Ron.\"\n\n\"Here.\"\n\n\"Why didn't you answer me the first time.\" \n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I'm just asking, I said it like four times. So why didn't you say it the first time I said 'Ay-Ay-Ron'?\"\n\n\"Sir, it's cause his name is Aaron.\" \n\n\"SON OF A BITCH! You done messed up! Now take your ass down to Oh-Shag-Hennesy's office and tell him what you did!\"\n\n\"Wait, who?\"\n\n\"Oh-Shag-Hennesy.\"\n\n\"Ah you mean O'Shaughnesy.\"\n\n\"Get out of my goddamn classroom before I break my foot off in your ass!\"\n\n\"Im sorry sir, I didn't choose pronunciation as my super power, it chose me!\"\n\nEdit:Spelling" ]	1
	[WP] Many years ago, it started raining all over the world. It hasn't stopped since. Describe your life in the flood.	[ " The good part about being the captain of my underwater division is that I get access to every Mushroom in the world. We call Mushrooms to the permanently expanding ships that were started to build years ago when the water was slowly swallowing the coasts. The attractive thing about Mushrooms is that they were built to resist the big tides and the typhoons, constantly shaking the whole globe, and that they have nuclear power as their energy base, which allows them to move continously near close to the sacred eyes of the cyclones, where we can have a litlle calm and a little sun. So there are allways small ships approaching to them looking for asylum, and if they aren't submarines like ours, they have the option to be friendly annexed, in the sense of dismantled, the option to be treated as a explorer ship and wait to be inspected if the weather permits, or the option to be treated as a threat and be violently annexed. These collosus are our ever sailing land and outside them, is no one's country.\n\n My division has privileges because we provide the soil with what everyone can grow food, so they protect us. Also we harvest the frozen methane deposits under the sea. This gas, they convert it into liquid methane in order to use it as rocket fuel. They are starting to build space rockets at the pace they used to build airplanes right back then, so they are protecting us even more. I have to tell the crew we must low the amount we are selling to the pirates." ]	1
	[WP] One day, race is no longer dictated by genetics. The race of a child is completely random and has no correlation with the parents' races.	[ "The nurses shuffled their feet and shook their heads around the water cooler in the nurses station. Voices were raised all across the maternity ward. \"Whore!\" from one room. \"Lying cheat!\" from another.\n\n In the farthest corner room a new mother was sobbing inconsolably. Nattie leaned over to whisper conspiratorially, \"Her skinhead boyfriend is in jail for hate crimes. That baby is black as night.\"\n\nJulianne whipped around the corner into the ward in a huff. \"It's happening everywhere! Statewide! I just got off the phone with Duke, they've started testing paternity for every single baby. Some of them are already coming back positive! I think we should make testing a priority here, too.\"\n\nA resounding wail from the corner room pierced the cacophony from the other rooms. Nattie shuddered, \"Can we start with hers?\"" ]	1
	[WP] A new virus sweeps the nation, infecting millions upon millions. The only way to identify an infected person is through the only visible symptom: Taking everything literally.	[ "Breaking news today. After a week from identification of the literally virus, reaserchers at MIT believe they have an unorthodox means of stopping it in it's tracks. Beginning at 5pm eastern tomorrow the phrase \" kill yourself\" will be randomly broadcast across all forms of media for a week. To ensure success all phone company's will text this phrase to customers and the director of FEMA via the office of emergency management requests this phrase be used in lieu of hello, good morning and have a nice day. Film at 11." ]	1
Bonus points if it's not a type of 'powerful' that we've seen before.	[WP] "Know this: my wife is extremely powerful. If she finds out about what you've done, there will be no force in the world that can save you from her."	[ "\"My wife is the most powerful person in the entire world, and I don't mean simply because she loves her power suits and the intense high of making executive business deals. She's also the type of person who's willing to break a foot off your ass, so know this: My wife is extremely powerful. If she finds out about what you've done, there will be no force in the world that can save you from her.\" Mark Rhaner stated, virtually vitriolic at the shining example of the problem with modern millennials. \n\n\"Sir, I've told you twice now. You can't return something, that is open, missing parts and lacking a receipt.\" \n\nMark Rhaner had a rather short fuse and this often led to many instances of horrible situations which often lead to mistakes. But there was one thing he had done right in his life and that was marrying his wife, one Monica Rhaner nee Patel. Now she was a shining example of power and influcnce, CEO of HighTower Industries at the unbelievable age of 25 as well as running for and winning the sentorialship of the wonderful state of Oregon. \n\nMrs. Rhaner was indeed extremely powerful and yet somehow, somehow one Roger Adams couldn't bring himself to give a damn. \n\nRoger was entering his sixth hour of standing up and listening to people. He was also getting to that terrifying place where the smile on his face was indicative of the looming psychotic break anyone who's ever worked retail suffers and this pulsating pentagenarian was slowly but surely pushing him over the proverbial edge. \n\n\"Now listen here son! I bought my blender from your store and I demand you give me my money back! I used my visa and the purchase should be in the system.\" \n\nRoger blinked. Staving off the impending headache and tried to be courteous, but struggling to find the balance between the customer is always right and corporate rules are a mandate from heaven. \n\n\"Sir, The rotor on this blender is worn down, the glass has cracks in it and it smells like vanilla daiquiris and kale. We literally cannot do anything about this.\" \n\nMark honestly couldn't believe the rudeness of the Buy More employee, his wife had a vested stock in this company! Just last month, they wined and dined with it's CFO, this brat had no idea who he was dealing with. \n\n\"Give me my money back!\" The fuse which had already been burning was now at violent eruption. \n\n\"Sir, I'm going to call my assistant manager and see if there's anything we can do for you!\" The smile never wavered as Roger though of all the ways he wished he could mutilate this horrible horrible man. \n\n\"The call him!\" \n\nThe red button came on, it's flashing red analogous with the situation. \n\nJust wait till my wife hears about this. \n\nbarbecue him, boil him, broil him, bake him, saute him... \n\nRoger kept the smile on his face, the company took back his blender, and thus was another day in retail. " ]	1
	[WP] Authorities have discovered a feral child out in a jungle, and they're concerned - the child doesn't have a guardian angel like everyone else.	[ "\"Report\"\n\n\"..Report...Report what? What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"Nelson, You have a report coming in, on the thing.\" \n\n\"You could have just said that, how does 'Report' tell me anything. That's like saying 'Drink' and waiting for you to pour me a glass of milk. Makes no goddamn sense.\"\n\n\"Wow..You didn't have to be a dick about it Mr.Mountee. Grab your dumb hat. The one that makes you look like a Canadian.\"\n\nNelson slowly rises from the sweat stained couch, crumbs and broken glass tumble down his old wife-beater tank top. He grabs the framed headshot of Jeff Goldblum his friend Tyler got him as a joke gift last summer.\n\n\"Can you believe it mr. Goldblumpkin? People, who are hungover, usually don't respond well to giant floating useless glowsticks asking them dumb questions in the morning.\" \n\n\"I'm not useless. Without me you'd turn off your radio and just rot away on this couch.\" \n\nNelson leans as far as he can off the couch while still sitting down and reaches the radio on the counter, covered in duct tape and dried potato spuds. \n\nbzzt \"This is Ranger Nelson, copy\" bzzt \n\nSata started twirling the wire of the wall mounted landline, covering it in white ephemeral dust that seemed to boil away into nothingness like water droplets on a hot pan. He changed his focus to the crayon drawing attached to the refrigerator. A big white blob floating a foot off the ground with crude yellow facial features in the shape of a big dumb toothy smile. \n\n\"Does your Niece realize I don't have a face? How could I smile without a face?\" Asked Sata while he used his index finger to flatten the curled edge of the drawing. \n\n\"It's supposed to be that fruity gold lacing that's all intertwined in your white ghostly mist shit. Like the designs on your gloves and stuff. You look like a pillar in an elven city in some lord of the hobbit book. \n\nbzzt lord of the hobbit book? bzzt responded a strong northern accented woman on the other end of the walkie. \n\n\"Morning Lorraine, I was just making fun of Sata.\" Replied Nelson\n\nbzzt is he speaking of a Tolkien novel? Those are my absolute favorite. bzzt the regal voice of Lorraine's guardian chimed in \n\n\"And morning to the royal geek, Delta\" added Nelson\n\nbzzt yeah uh, we got a strange one...and an urgent one. Down here by Robert's clearing. We're gonna need you down here Nels bzzt\n\n\" another empty guardian? Lost hiker who was on a spirit journey? Pokemon Go player broke his leg? What? Hehe\" chuckled Nelson\n\nbzzt it's a kid, Nels bzzt\n\nEverything froze for a split second, Nelson doesn't take much seriously anymore but he doesn't take kid cases lightly. Nelson threw the radio at Sata, phasing through his face and hitting the wall behind him as he lunged off the couch and to the closet to get his uniform. \n\n\"That was pretty rude, dude.\" Complained Sata as his core bounced around and re-positioned itself like a ping pong in a bowl of jello.\n\nNelson slammed his door and tore apart his closet getting semi-presentable.\n\nNelson rushed out the door while he put on his jacket, Sata floating after him. The radio sat in pieces on the ground in the corner, red light flashing, static blaring out of the speaker. Intermittently, Lorraine's voice came through. \"He....doesn't....h-h...a.a.ngel.\"\n\n\n\n(Part 1? I might come back to this another time) \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are a "Pain-Taker" a modified human being who can accept and then have to deal with any kind of trauma both physical and mental from another human for a cost. You've just accepted a huge army contract.	[ "My eyes were shut and I kept my breathing regular and focused on the chipped paint on the door of the apc. The booster implanted in my skull powered on and I felt a dull pain in my jaw.\n\n\n\"Still not gone to the dentist then sarge?\" The Sargent glanced over at me.\n\n\n\"Can it you aren't paid to talk just sit there and do your fucking job\" the Sargent growled his face tense and troubled. He was probably anticipating the next battle it wasn't going to be an easy one the enemy was dug in. The last time a unit tried to assault the position they were driven back with such heavy losses the pain taker quit. \n\n\nNow I thought that the money was good enough for any degree of pain. That was until the doors opened and the squad charged over the hill and into the valley. As it turned out they had napalm as well as claymore mines. These weapons despite how outdated they were felt very effective. There is no easy way to describe the sensation of napalm it hurt very briefly sure it hurt worst then anything I had ever experienced. I was later told by one of the survivors that if the napalm got you it burnt your nerve ending pretty quickly. The claymore mines were worse I felt my legs get severed along with my stomach being ripped open and it hurt for a good few minutes until whichever poor sod bought it bled out.\n\n\nThere was the usual bumps and scrapes as well a bullet graze on the arm, bruised ribs from impacts on the plate armour and an ache in my shoulder from the kick of the rifles. \n\n\nDon't mistake this for complaining or weakness. I would be lying if I said I did this just for the money. My brother served in the army for a while until they brought what was left of him back in a box. At the wake I cornered one of the guys from his unit and asked him how it happened. I asked him to tell me honestly. The soldier explained how my brother had tripped an ied and before he had landed an ambush pinned his unit. My bother lay screaming with his flesh torn for 20 minutes as bullets zipped over his broken body. Nobody could get to him and the pain taker program was only in its research stage at the time.\n\n\nI don't do this just for the money even though it is good. I do this so nobody has to go through what my brother did and if that means I spend an hour or so biting down on a rubber buffer so I don't scream and put off the guys manning the apc I'm happy with that. If some poor sod is shredded and dying in a ditch I can't fix him,I can't drag him to a medic but I can take the pain away and who knows since he isn't distracted by it he can maybe lob a grenade or pull out a side arm and give the enemy some grief. " ]	1
	[WP] You live in a world where people who deal damage to others feel the same pain they deal. The world leaders call upon you because you feel no pain.	[ "CHAPTER 2\n\nAnd once again, it's quiet. Even my hairless friend can't bring himself to words. All that work to track me down on a hunch made from security camera footage and supposed eye witnesses. Which come to think of it.......begs a question.\n\"How many poor motherfuckers did you shoot in the arm BEFORE you found me?!?!\"\n\nBaldy's gaze finally meets mine again. \"Mr. Morgan, the people I work for have certain resources. Resources that they would be willing to share if you were to cooperate with us.\"\n\n\"Listen Vin Diesel, I only have two rules. Never makes deals with people who don't have faces or names and never go to the grocery store on an empty stomach. That only leads to five too many packages of Oreos and low self-esteem problems.\"\n\n\".....Fine. My Special Agent Gregory Watson. Happy?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"What? Why not?\"\n\n\"Because that's not your real name.\"\n\n\"Yes. Yes it is.\"\n\n\"No. No it's not.\"\n\nHe sighs and looks down at his shoes. \"No...it's not. But my name is not important. Who I work for is. Mr. Morgan, have you heard of Raymond Hurtz?\"\n\n\"Yeah. He runs a small drug smuggling business in Yemen. He's a nobody.\"\n\n\"Not anymore. The people we work for,\" he says, gesturing to his large muscular pals who are now staring at me too, \"They aren't a governing body. They are a council of about thirty different government leaders world wide. W.O.C. has been working for over 50 years to take down threats that are deemed to hazardous to be left alone. We aren't a government agency and have no country of origin, so we therefore don't hold any legal boundaries.\"\n\nI nod. \"W.O.C.?\"\n\n\"World Order Council.\"\n\n\"Hahahaha. Cute name. Listen guys, you got the wrong guy. One, I'm not a good team player and two, I'm not a good person.\"\n\n\"You haven't even heard about what we can offer you.\"\n\n\"Is it a cookie and a gold star?\"\n\n\"How about restoring function to your damaged nerves?\"\n\nWhat the fuck did he just say?! I feel an overwhelming need to leap from my chair and wrapping my hands around his throat. Is that asshole joking about this? \n\n\"Don't you want that?\" he says when I don't respond, \"I'm no doctor, but I know that severe nerve damage doesn't just stop the pain. When's the last time you felt the water from your shower run down your back? Or enjoyed the warmth from your cup of coffee?\" I'm still silent. He isn't lying. I have worked with mob bosses and thieves all my life, I can tell when a man is lying. He isn't. The rage I feel in my chest begins to subside, but I don't want it to. I want to be angry, but can't. He's right. \n\n\"Well, if you decide that maybe the nameless and faceless people are worth your time. Let me know.\" At that word, Henchman number one and two come at me with that stupid hood again.\n\n\"NO NO NO! Wait, what did you mean when you said Hurtz isn't in the drug smuggling business anymore!\"\n\n\"We will discuss more if you take the job, Mr. Morgan. Goodbye. I have a feeling we will meet again.\"\n\n\"Ohhhh fuck yo-.\" They gagged me this time. THEY FUCKING GAGGED ME. Once again I'm dragged away through hallways and into a vehicle. It's about ten minutes before I'm dumped in a puddle in an alleyway. I take off my hood and look around to orientate myself. \"Well shit.\"\n\nCHAPTER 3 (coming soon)", "CHAPTER 1\n\n\"Let me go! I said let me go, God damnit!\" I scream as I am hooded and shoved into what feels like an SUV. \n\nIt feels as if I am dragged through miles of hallways and rooms before I'm finally thrown into a chair. It's quiet. That's the first thing I notice. Also, the temperature is uncomfortably high. That combined with the forceful nature of my capture means two things......I'm in an interrogation room but I'm not about to get interrogated.\n\n\"Let me speak to your commanding officer,\" I say forceful excepting no response. \"WHO ARE YOU?! CIA?! FBI?!\"\n\nIt isn't more than 5 minutes when I am finally unhooded. There stands a man, middle 40s, about 5'9\", holding a Stainless Steal Walther 9mm. He skin is darker, possibly middle-eastern descent, and he is bald. The two assholes who I can only assume carried me in here move frantically around the room, shuffling papers around, but Baldy, he only continues to stare directly at me.\n\n\"Who are you?.......Listen guys, I appreciate you kidnapping me for the bachelor party but you didn't need to pay for a stripper too,\" I say as I nod to the creeper staring at me. Glares circle the room before Baldy makes his move. Within a second he hits me 3 times and I fall from my shiny metal chair to the floor. I look up to see him wince.....but no scream. No doubling over in pain.\n\n\"WOW,\" I say with a laugh, \"how much morphine did you have to take to pull that stunt?\"\n\n\"None,\" he says, returning me to my lovely chair.\n\n\"Reeeaaaaalllllyy. Huh. Well aren't you special?\"\n\n\"No. But you are.\" he states simply while sliding a round into the chamber of his gun and firing it into my right arm.\n\n\"CHRIST MAN!\" I scream.\n\n\"AHHH!!!\", Baldy screams, falling to the floor while his twos sidekicks remain completely preoccupied. \n\nI stare at arm bleeding arm, then Baldy, then my bleeding arm again. \"You really are one crazy motherfucker aren't you.\"\n\nHe stands back up again, cradling his arm, \"Why didn't you scream?\"\n\n\"What? How could you tell, Mr. Clean? You were rolling on the ground paying for YOUR sins.\"\n\n\"It's because you don't feel pain, isn't it.\"\n\n\"That's quiet the assumption there.\"\n\n\"I'm correct. Aren't I?\"\n\n\n\"Man, what do you think you know.\"\n\n\"I know that you have used over 17 different aliases in the past year, Mr. Morgan. That's your real name, right. Camron Morgan. You have quiet the record,\" he says, taking a file handed to him by Henchman #1. \"Armed robbery, hacking the U.S.A. Embassy in China, and.......public indecency in 3 different countries?\"\nI uncontrollably smile out of habit. That one always gets me.\n\n\"I know you also have several assault cases and judging by the evidence gathered against you, you never once have used any pain relieving medication. I know that in the past 15 years there have only been 114 assault cases world and they divide into two categories. Ones where guys get drunk and beat the shit out of each other before they regret living, this accounts for about 95 cases, and ones where little to no evidence is found and a foreign diplomat ends up getting mugged before a important government decision is made. I assume you are to account for the ladder.\"\n\nBaldly sighs before continuing, \"So you're smart, capable, and clearly can't feel pain in anyway.\"\n\n\n\"Is that why you shot me?! A little much, don't you think?\"\n\n\"It was clearly affective.\"\n\n\"And the blows to the face...\"\n\n\"Well, you are an ass.\"\n\n\n\"Huh...ok......one question though.\"\n\n\"What?\" he asks.\n\n\"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!?! You have kidnapped me, shot me, and read me my autobiography. Judging by your firepower, you are some kind of government agency and you are clearly funded international due to the information you have. You aren't here to lock me up because you would have done that already and you have no legal boundary because as I said before....YOU SHOT ME!\" I feel out of breathe for a moment before finally coming to my senses. \n\n\"...who do you want me to kill?\"\n\nCHAPTER 2 (coming soon)\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] By some Extra-Dimensional mishap, anything that could be considered a replica is now the real deal. You are currently at the San Diego Comic Convention.	[ "It started out as a fun day. I had worked for months on my Space Marine armor. I got everything correct, from the colors on my armor as a Adeptus Astartes of the Space Ravens chapter, to the bolter and chainsword I carried into the convention.\n\nI was going to win. I was determined. The prize of a 50 dollar gift card to domino's was going to be mine.\n\nAt first it was fun, I joked with an Infested Sarah Kerrigan cosplayer about \"cleansing the Zerg filth from the galaxy\", ended up getting her phone number after some flirting. Of course this is when it happened. Screams erupted all around us.\n\nAs soon as the screaming started I noticed that instead of eyeholes cut through my helm to let me see... I had a digital display in high Gothic. Which I could read. That was when I noticed that \"Sarah\"s' carapace looked real. And her skeletal wings were moving.\n\nAt first I was shocked. Dumbfounded. Going to a con and everybody turns into what they are dressed as? Sounds like a fanfiction written by some dumb preteen.\n\n\"Sarah\" seemed to be thinking the same thing as she looked up at what had been a five foot ten inch guy wearing modeling foam, and now was an eight foot tall Space Marine in full power armor.\n\nI couldn't help it, I was scared. I drew on her, my bolter pointed straight at her chest, a helpful targeting reticle showing right where I was aiming a fully automatic weapon designed to fire, essentially, rocket propelled grenades.\n\nThen we heard a beastial roar and more screams. She had her hands held up, but even so, both of us looked to see a group of werewolves charging through a crowd of Pokemon trainers. We locked eyes for a second, then her hand was pointed at one of the werewolves, the blue light of her Psionics forming a corona of power around her hand, even as she ripped apart the mind of the first wolf.\n\nAs I pointed the bolter at the first werewolf charging at me I could feel disgust, almost as if the gun thought its ammo wasted on the beast. Had my modeling foam bolter gained a machine spirit? Even so a tap of the trigger sent a bolter round downrange, splattering a group of Jessie's running in fear with the werewolves' blood.\n\nI heard a scream next to me, only to see \"Sarah\" on the ground with one of the Xenomorphs from the Alien series on top of her. With astartes strength alone the creature would have been easy to throw, while wearing power armor? It hit a brick wall hard enough to crush its skull, splattering an unfortunate Ding from Rainbow Six with its acidic blood, thankfully he was hit with enough to kill him quickly.\n\nI felt pretty bad about that. Of course, just because some prank by some god or supernatural being had granted us the powers of whoever we were dressed up as didn't mean we knew how to use it.\n\nWhen a Darth Maul tried to bisect Sarah and instead tripped over his cloak and burned off the top of his head this was made perfectly clear.\n\nSoon enough a few others dressed as Space Marines, even a Word Bearers Terminator, joined us. It seemed that some people went crazy when transformed, while others didn't, regardless of the morals of the character they dressed up as.\n\nRight after we had grouped up a couple of transformers showed up. I saw the autobot sigil on them and relaxed.\n\nBad, bad move. That was when I got kicked through an Indiana Jones who had joined us and landed on a Dilbert who was trying to run away from some tentacled... thing.\n\nA few hacks of the chainsword later and I was unentangled (although covered with blood and freaking out) and saw the Terminator crushing the transformer's spark with his Thunder Hammer.\n\nI took a quick inventory of our group. Sarah was still around, her wings dripping with gore. We had a Blood Raven who had lost his helmet and looked ready to go into the black rage, a Word Bearer with a heavy bolter, myself with a light bolter and a chainsword, a group of five terrified Star Trek Next Generation redshirts with phasers, and three hydralisks that had shown up to back up the apparent Zerg Queen I had been fighting alongside.\n\nAll in all it looked like a formidable group. But who knew what else someone had dressed up as? Were we going to run into an evil Master Chief from Halo? Maybe Goku from DBZ?\n\nA quick look around showed that we all had the same thought. That was when one of the redshirts just sat down and started rocking back and forth.\n\n\"I could have been Kirk, or Data, or Spock, but I'm a redshirt and we're going to run into Goku, or Freeza, or Mewtwo, or, or, FUCK WE'RE DEAD GUYS! DEAD! YO-\" the freaking out redshirt was knocked out by one of his fellow redshirts.\n\nI couldn't help it. The redshirt was probably right.\n\nWe backed ourselves into a corner, a Kirk joined us, as well as a T-800 Terminator. We figured we had some firepower and a narrow path anyone had to charge down to get to us. We thought we were safe.\n\nThen we heard howling. I was reminded of the first time I ran into the Flood while playing Halo.\n\nDamn, but I am always right at the worst of times. An even dozen combat forms came screeching as they charged at us, dozens of infection forms skittering about at their feet.\n\nAfter the first ten minutes the original combat forms and infection forms were dead, but they had obviously been busy. Soon we were facing infected Predators, Pokemon, even an infected Nightfury from How to Train Your Dragon came charging at us.\n\nIn minutes that last of the redshirts was being swarmed over and one of the hydralisks was down. Thankfully the Word Bearer had a flamer and burned the bodies before they could reanimate.\n\nAfter thirty minutes it was down to Sarah, the Word Bearer, the T-800 and myself. The Blood Raven had gone into the black rage and was currently being dragged under by a tide of infection forms. Dozens of corpses were piled around him, but it was only a matter of time.\n\nIt seemed the Word Bearer shared my thoughts, because he turned his flamer on the Blood Raven and burned him alive. The screams were horrible. The smell was worse.\n\nI shared a look with the others around me. It was obvious we were having the same thought. No matter how hard we fought, we were going down. I was already out of ammo, and the Word Bearer probably didn't have much more promethium for his flamer either. With that gone we would be swarmed under on the next rush.\n\nThat was when the Flying Spaghetti Monster showed up. He sighed, one of his meatballs almost rolling off his plate. \"Seriously guys? Who messed with the barrier between worlds? I know you all like to pretend these things don't really exist, but to go dressing up as them?\" He sighed again, \"I guess I'll clean this up for you. Just don't go giving Jesus all the credit alright? He's a cool guy and all, but still.\"\n\nThen his noodly wrath was kindled. Noodles stretched out and grabbed combat forms faster than my astartes eyes could see, crushing everything in its path with ease. The infection forms he simply let his plate fall on, the carrier forms he ignored. Those few combat forms that came close enough to try to harm one of his meatballs were simply crushed.\n\nFinally it was just us. Every cosplayer outside of the survivors with me and the Flying Spaghetti Monster had been infected by the Flood, then killed either by my group, or by the FSM. His noodly glory was dripping with the greenish slime and gore of the Flood, but his meatballs remained wholesome and clean from their filth.\n\nSarah was leaning on my pauldron, her wings trailing along the ground, the T-800 was missing an arm and a leg, but still had his plasma cannon aimed, and the last survivor, the Word Bearer, had a Predator's spear pinning his leg to the ground, the Flood boosted strength having forced the weapon even through his Ceramite armor." ]	1
	[WP] Write a love story without dialogue	[ "I still couldn't get over her perfect features, in every way. The way strong light plays over her cheeks, her glistening eyes, her soft, lucious hair, and most of all, that utterly cold demeanor. For most, the coldness would be a detractor, but for me, well, it's part of what I find so charming about her. \n\nYou could say that her beauty is timeless, ageless, forever etched into my own memories. I couldn't believe the luck, when I got the call, to say they knew of someone who was so completely my type. I spent hours with her, whispering the things I would do, the things I would say, and how we could make the most perfect love under the moonlight, on my expansive estates. \n\nI am a man of refined tastes, and for me, anything less than perfect simply will not do. Love does not come easily. When it happens, however, I seek to do anything and everything in my power to preserve that moment forever, like a crystal vase – as long as it is treated with care and dignity, there is no reason it should ever diminish and die. \n\nSome have called me insane, others creepy, but I do not care. I am who I am, and I am not ashamed of it. I will endure the attacks on me, and on her, for what we do together, for truly – who can decide what love is, except for the two who are in love. \n\nNever have I seen one so beautiful, nor will I ever, I think. Ihave taken great pains to preserve it, which has been difficult, but well worth the time, and the effort I have put into it. They say that love can never last, but mine will. Mine will be forever, for she does not care for other things. In truth, she does not care for any thing. I do not need her to love me back, and I need is care, precision, and my own delicate touch. \n\nIndeed, the dead are easy to love. ", "In a coffee shop is where my story of love began. Rather, it is where it lived. Koffetto Royale was the name of the little cafe where an emotion had come over me. Like a cloak of sunshine and security draped around my shoulders was this feeling I had never felt before in a place that I had never been. \n\nIt was a shabby spot, not worthy of the extravagant name it had been given. From the street it apeared to be like any other coffee shop in Minneapolis. Wide, foggy windows advertising the dimly lit tables surrounded by mismatched chairs. The floorboards and frame looked as if they were built from remnants of an old naval ship that had run aground. Under every step the wood creaked and moaned of an old worn out life ready for retirement. Nonetheless, the dump served the best damn coffee in town. At least that's how I like to remember it. \n\nI would often sit behind one of the fat windows, drink my black coffee and silently appreciate the artwork dangling from every foot of the walls. People seemed to obsess over painted ships. Each wall had at least one dramatic boat struggling in a seemingly perfect storm. I always thought of buying one of the works before I left, but never had enough courage - or money for that matter. \n\nWhile I sat people came and went and came and went. Every one of them seemed to keep a secret and would maintain a blank focus that could draw upon any man's curiousity. No one would speak freely from their mind and I began to wonder if they could. Only weather and the occasional news headline would be carelessly brought up in passing, but even the weather was obvious enough to be seen glaring in through the glass front. This building brought about a strange character in people. Silence. \n\nEvery day my visits grew longer and earlier. I woke up while the rest of my neighborhood was asleep, before giving my alarm clock the chance to speak. The dark coffee was always the same - hot, opaque, and good. I found mysellf nearly satiated until I would find my cup empty and quickly hunting for merely another drop left at the bottom of my mug. \n\nFor years this sanctuary would feed my necessity for coffee and silence until the unfortunate ship, that was Koffetto Royale, would sink into an ocean of flames. Eaten up into a dull blackness this place would always be remembered by me and the loved ones who it had affected so deeply. Rest in peace, my love. ", "I used to watch Greg with his students. I was envious of his wife Melinda, because there was not a doubt in my mind, that he would make a wonderful father. His wife, however, was an amazing woman, and I am not the kind of lady to consider interfering with a married man. \n\nWe worked together at Martin Elementary School, and so I settled for a bird's eye view of a spectacular creation, keeping my distance out of respect for his marriage. Many moons passed, and one afternoon, while in the teachers' lounge making copies of a science test, I overheard two teachers talking about Melinda. Something about her being very sick. I did not listen any further. I do remember saying a prayer for her healing, and my heart cracking, just a bit, for Greg.\n\nGreg looked worn, and he wasn't as interactive with his students, and my heart cracked more, each time I saw him, until summer break came and I had a reprieve from such sorrows.\n\nI spent the summer re-painting the rooms of my little bungalow and even managed to enjoy the fruits of my little herb container garden. Life was good, and with only a few workshops to attend, I spent the majority of summer devouring books and greek yogurt. \n\nSeveral times a day, my thoughts would turn to Greg and Melinda, but I was not close enough to him to express my concern.\n\nWhen school started back in the fall, the first thing I noticed was Greg. He was gone. An aging grandmotherly type had remodeled his room and all traces of Greg were erased with an elderly hand. \n\nIt was during the first week that I had learned of Melinda's passing. Oh how my heart, already broken by Greg's absence, now, simply bled for him.\n\nI imagined I would never see him again. I realized that I was madly in love with a man I had never even spoken to, and all I wanted to do wasbring him comfort. So I invited him over for coffee and scones. I spent the entire week sprucing up, dusting every nook and cranny, polishing every piece of furniture, and silver I had. I wanted him to feel comfortable.\n\nWhen he arrived, I was straight forward with him. I let him know how much I admired his easy spirit with his students, and how they responded so well to him. I sincerely let expressed how sorry I was to hear of his beautiful wife's passing. I told him about how I was old-fashioned and that it did not seem proper to talk with him, while he was a married man, but that I was desperate to give my condolenses, once I had found out about Melinda's brave battle with cancer.\n\nHe began to weep, as I poured him a second cup of coffee. There were no words I could say for this poor man, so I just let him weep. Occasionally, I would step behind where he sat on the couch, and give his shoulders a gentle squeeze, even though it still felt inappropriate to touch him at all. He was a man in mourning.\n\nHe left after that second cup, with very few words between us, as he left he muttered something about respect and kindness, I cannot remember the exact words though, because I was too busy waiting to exhale.\n\n\nI did not hear from Greg again for months. Fall turned to Winter, the new year began, and the second semester followed suit. Needing to write the new six weeks' outline on the chalk board, I arrived early, even with the icy road conditions slowing me down. I was surprised to find Greg waiting inside my classroom. He wanted me to be the first to know that he was back. He wanted me to know how much he appreciated me reaching out to him. And he wanted me to consider having coffee again. He told me that he had reflected often on our time together. \n\nI felt a piece of my heart fall back into place, and allow my heart to fill with hope. The next few weeks fed that wellspring, and Greg became a permenant fixture in my life. We would go for speed walks in the city park each morning before going to our classrooms. We would eat lunch together in the teachers' lounge, smirking at each other silently, as other teachers were consumed in chatty gossip. We would take parking lot duty together, tutor on the same afternoons, and we would eat dinner together, every night. \n\nSome evenings he would cook. It turns out his love language is food. He spent a year in the French Riviera being trained by the best chefs in the country. I was not as lauded, but would give it an honest go. He would always find an excuse to join me in my kitchen, helping with prep, as well as teaching me new techniques and forcing me to sample unusual vegetables and fruits. Occasionally, we would dine out. Since he had an adventurpus palette, he expanded my culinary world and language. So much color came to be a permenant fixture in my formerly drab little world.\n\nHe still had his dark moments where his mind would be triggered by a reminder of Melinda, and I could not reach him, even if he was sitting right beside me. But I loved him even more for that. How deeply this man can love. How undying his love is. How rare.\n\nAs time wore on, we got engaged and eventually married. We had a son, and then a daughter, and then twins. And I was right, we was an incredible dad. Our children each grew into successful, loving members of society, moving away to start their own lives, and Greg, God bless his soul, well, Greg became ill. Stage 4 pancreatic cancer.\n\nThe doctors gave him only 6 months, but Gref gave me two more years. Two heart-wrenching, precious years. I spent every day caring for my love, feeding him, bathing him, reading to him. He would try to share with me stories from his childhood, but would often exhaust himself before the story was over. \n\nI have never known a finer man. And I never will. He was, is and always will be, my everything. \n\nMay he rest in peace.\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] An American and a Brit get into a violent argument over spellings such as "learned/learnt" and "center/centre".	[ "English Man; You fat, cheeseburger inhaling yank. Why do you keep rogering up the Queens English?\n\nAmerican Man; Listen here you limey fuck, we kicked your tea drinking asses to the curb, y'all can't say shit about shit. \n\nEnglish Man; Well \"yehaw\" for you then. \n\nAmerican Man; Fuck you. \n\nEnglish Man; So bloody witty. \n\nFrench Canadian Man; Bonjour buddies. \n\nAmerican Man, and English Man, in perfect unison to the French Canadian Man; You can fuck right off", "\"Now mate, as I've so eloquently explained it to you, over the course of this evening..\" said the Englishman in his signature Earl Grey air of entitlement, \"one must always call a thing by its proper name. Else, why name it at all, eh?\"\n\n\nThe American gave him a look of defiance through his rapidly-swelling left eye. The right is barely a slit now. He shifts slightly in his chair to scratch the itch that was born out of the rope burn on his wrists behind him. They're tied into a cryptic celtic knot and the frayed jute fibers pierce his american skin in itchy mockery.\n\n\n\"I dare say,\" continued the Englishman, \"it's hardly a matter of surprise. You are, all of you, former colonial mongrels, the issue of England's unwanted. Peasants and Thieves, set aboard a wooden vessel in the thousands, indistinguishable from the rats that journeyed with them...pff.\"\n\n\nThe American spews forth a small puddle of blood at the Englishman's feet.\n\n\nThe Englishman looks at it and makes an expression of restrained disgust, worthy of every good Englishman who portrayed Hamlet on the West End.\n\n\nHe picks up the horse whip from the side-table and holds it in the American's line of sight.\n\n\n\"I wonder if my little lecture has taught you anything? Hmmm? How does one spell Colour?\" the Englishman asks.\n\n\n\"C\" the American begins.\n\n\"Go on\"\n\n\"O\"\n\n\"Mmm hmmm\"\n\n\"L\"\n\n\"Right...\"\n\n\"O\"\n\n\"Good\"\n\n\nHe looks the Englishman in the eyes. Cracks a big grin.\n\n\"R\"\n\n\"WROOOONNNNNG!!\"\n\n\nThe Englishman throws him to the ground, still tied to his chair and starts whipping him senselessly. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! And the horsewhip makes a cracking sound in the air and a wet, splitting one as it tears through the American's epidermis.\n\n\nHe stops and collects his British temper. He sets the American up right. The pool of blood has enlarged around him now. The Englishman feels light-headed.\n\n\nHe walks back to his coat and pulls out a pack of half-consumed Lindtt 88%.\n\n\n\"Excuse me American, I have diabetes insipidus, I must replenish my sugar levels\"\n\n\n\"Whatchya havin'?\" the American asks.\n\n\n\"Dark Chocolate. Would you like one?\"\n\n\nThe American freezes momentarily. A small smile escapes his lips.\n\n\n\"What?\" asks the Englishman.\n\n\n\"AHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA\" the American breaks into a half-mock, half-glorious laughter.\n\n\nThe Englishman speeds up to him, grabs him by the hair,\n\n\n\"What do you find so amusing?\"\n\n\n\"I believe in England\", the American says victoriously, \"they call it 'Plain Chocolate'\".\n\n\nEDIT: Spelling and grammar." ]	2
	[WP] You are just finishing up your office job, when you look out the window and see the most peculiar thing. A pig... with wings.	[ "\"Well fuck me!\" I exclaim to myself as a watch the pig nonchalantly flutter past. Closing the blinds I turn back to my desk. \"Apparently it's worse than I thought. I have to do something about this.\"\n\nI leave the office and go home, sitting in traffic for most of the journey. Finally arriving home, I get a shower, a coffee, and a change of clothes, pondering all the while how my life ever turned out this way. I mean, flying pigs was a new one.\n\nUnder an hour later, having been home and changed, I sit in a seat in a circle of people that I don't know, in the basement of a church. It really was a sign of the end times that I'd ever consider setting foot in a house of worship again.\n\n\"Hi. My name is Tim. My wife left me three years ago, and I've been an alcoholic ever since...\"", "\"No effing way...\" I watch as her eyes take in the scene in disbelief. The little piglet alights gracefully just outside the window...six stories up.\n\n\"I told you so,\" I whisper gleefully.\n\nShe looks annoyed, \"Yeah yeah, it's a pig with wings. I could've seen it from MY office you know?\"\n\nI grin devilishly. \"Do you remember what you said the last time I asked you out?\"\n\nShe looks puzzled. \"Piss off?\"\n\n\"Nope, when pigs fly.\" my grin widens as her face flushes brightly.\n\n\"W-w-wait just a minute!\" she stutters.\n\n\"Nope, I'll pick you up at 8.\"" ]	2
	[WP]Browsing r/random you stumble upon the front page of a parallel world : r/all* you can read and comment, but you can't come back to your world's reddit. Your computer is like a window to a parallel reality.	[ "176- TIL clouds used to be white. Gray clouds are called smog and are a result of contaminates in the atmosphere.\n\n22- Freezing is NOT the same as boiling. Boil your snow before you drink it.\n\n412- Protest against Martial Law Thursday. Eleven killed.\n\n242-Remember Chicago, monument to be built in D.C.\n\n121- Wikileaks documents show that President Varson had advance warning of the Scourge. His vacation was not a coincidence.\n\n317- TIFU by walking through what I thought was an empty field.\n\n418- Handcrank phone charger\n\n1024 - I flew a drone over the Fence. This is what it saw. Yes, they are breathing.\n\n221- Why the police aren’t enforcing curfew.\n\n312- A found a living kitten! Isn’t she cute?" ]	1
	[WP] Your best friend just confessed to you that they are homosexual and in love with you. You can't return their feelings though, since you are actually a sentient cactus in human disguise.	[ "\"...and that was the last time I ever played cribbage with a seahorse.\"\n\n\nBrenda burst out laughing. Jennifer smiled slightly as her friend gripped the table to keep from laughing herself right out of her chair. \"I thought you'd like that, Brenda,\" she said.\n\n\n\"Yo-you thought right,\" Brenda responded, struggling to get the words out between giggles. \"I can't believe you had a story to top the one about the French noble's soufflé!\" \n\n\nAs Brenda slowly managed to regain her composure, she noticed Jennifer staring at her with a strange look in her eyes. \"Hey, Jenny, something wrong?\" she asked, concerned.\n\nJennifer was silent for a few moments, then she said, \"Bren...you...\" she looked down at her drink, and the pointed hat she was wearing drooped slightly, \"Y-you have a b-beau- you have a beautiful laugh,\" Jenny finally managed so get out.\n\n\nBrenda blinked, confused, \"Uh...thanks?\"\n\n\n\"Listen, Bren...\" Jennifer suddenly stopped talking and took a gulp of her water, then looked off into the distance. After a few seconds, she shook her head, and turned her gaze straight towards Brenda. \"Bren, there's something I need to tell you. It's...it's important to me.\"\n\n\nBrenda's confused expression turned to a grin, and she pointed a finger forward dramatically as Jennifer jumped slightly, \"Aha! You're about to finally admit to me that you're a lesbian, right?\"\n\n\nHer friend gasped, and opened and closed her mouth a few times before finally managing to speak, \"y-y-you knew? How? When? What?\"\n\n\n\"Oh, sure I knew,\" Brenda said cheerfully, \"I've known ever since that time we passed Gerald on his way back from the lake. Remember, the time he wasn't wearing a shirt? I saw you watching the trees and not even noticing him! No straight woman could ever resist a glance as those glorious abs!\"\n\n\n\"Oh, my...\" Jenny groaned and put her head in her hands. Brenda's smile faded and she reached out a hand to comfort Jennifer, but then she heard the other woman laugh.\n\n\nLooking up, Jennifer said, \"Oh, Brenda... you're too damn smart for me, huh? I guess that's one of the reasons I love you.\"\n\n\n\"I am quite smart, aren't I?\" Brenda replied happily, before fully processing what Jenny just said. \"Wait. Wait. Waaaaaait. You...love me?\"\n\n\nJennifer just nodded, a sad smile on her face, \"Yes, Brenda. I love you. I have ever since we met. It's been almost 12 years now, hasn't it? I'd just been hired as a professor, I was going to get to live my dream of training the next generation of witches... but I was totally unprepared to actually do it. Then I met you, and you took me under your wing, taught me how to teach others, made me feel right at home at the Academy. Ever since then, you've been my best friend. And... something more than that too.\"\n\n\n\"I...oh.\" Brenda was silent for a minute, as now she was the one gazing down at her cup. Jennifer watched, struggling to keep the grin on her face. Finally, Brenda spoke softly, \"Jenny... I don't think this is going to work.\"\n\n\nJennifer simply nodded as she swallowed, holding back tears. \"Yeah. I-I know,\" her voice cracked, \"I know you don't think of me the same way, but I... I just couldn't keep it from you any longer.\"\n\n\n\"No, you don't understand,\" Brenda replied, \"Jenny, I feel the same way about you. I wanted to tell you too, but...\"\n\n\n\"Yo-you do?\" Jennifer gasped, \"th-then what's the problem? Oh my god, I'm so happy, thank you so much! I can't believe you...\" her voice trailed off as she saw Brenda's downcast expression.\n\n\n\"Jenny...\" Brenda closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, \"The problem is, I'm a cactus.\"\n\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\n\"I know it's hard to believe,\" Brenda said, \"But I'm a living cactus. I'm not a human, Jenny.\"\n\n\nAn angry looked flashed in Jennifer's eyes. \"Dammit Brenda, if this is one of your jokes, now is not the time-\"\n\n\nShe was suddenly interrupted by Brenda raising her hand to her own face, making a gesture, and causing her entire body to fade away to reveal a foot-tall cactus plant floating in the air where her head had been. Jennifer's mouth dropped open, and she could only stare.\n\n\n\"I should have told you before,\" Brenda's voice said from the plant, \"But I... I didn't know how. My situation is rather...unusual.\"\n\n\n\"I... yeah, I can see that,\" Jenny stammered.\n\n\n\"It was a rogue witch,\" the cactus explained, \"a man who was experimenting with new magic. I was just an ordinary plant, he cast some sort of spell on me, and here I am.\"\n\n\nBrenda was startled by Jennifer bursting into laughter. \"What...?\"\n\n\n\"Goddamn, Brenda, you really are the most interesting person I've ever met,\" Jenny laughed, \"And you'd better tell me everything later. But for now, I don't care what you are. You're still the same Brenda, aren't you?\" She calmed her guffaws, and her face faded into the same soft smile she wore earlier. \"Even if you're a plant somehow, I can't love you any less than I do.\"\n\n\nBrenda floated without speaking, her needles quivering. Then she reactivated her glamour spell, and her human form returned, crying. \"You really are crazy, Jenny. I'll tell you anything you want to know, and if you still want to be more than friends now... I'd be honored.\"\n\n\nJennifer's smile grew into an ecstatic grin. \"Tell me everything, Bren! I want to know all there is to know about my new spiky girlfriend!\" She chuckled again, \"Let's try to keep this from getting to be too much more than friends, OK? I like you a lot, but there are some things I'm just not willing to do with a cactus.\"\n\n\nBrenda smiled back, blinking to clear her remaining tears. \"Don't worry, I'm not planning to take our relationship THAT far. Anyway, you want to know more about me? Well let me tell you, this is one hell of a story...\"", "\"I love you.\" He said, biting his lip and tapping his fingers against the restaurant table. He was always doing that. \n\n\"I-\" I began, but I was unsure what to say and I let the sentence hang in the air. It was clear he had wanted a different response. \n\nI cleared my throat and stared at him, trying to choose the words that would adequately explain how I felt. \n\n\"I am a cactus.\" I said, and looking back it seems that that may have been a little too blunt. \n\n\"A- a what?\" He asked. His eyebrows were doing that little wiggle that seemed to mean confusion. A furrow, I think. He began fiddling with a straw wrapper. \n\n\"I am a cactus.\" I repeated, staring at him. Perhaps he needed more detail. \"Green. With spines.\"\n\n\"I get it.\" He said bitterly. \"You're not emotionally ready for anything. You can just say that if that's what you mean.\"\n\nHe didn't seem to be getting it. \n\n\"I am a cactus,\" I repeated, trying my best to look earnest. \"In human skin. A real cactus.\"\n\n\"Jesus. I thought we were friends.\" He said, tossing the wrapper down and running a hand through his hair angrily. \"I get it with the metaphors. All you had to do was say you weren't gay. I would understand, of course I would.\" \n\n\"You do not seem to understand me.\" I said, trying one more time. \"I am a literal cactus. If you were to cut my skin open and peel it away, beneath you would find a sentient cactus. This is not a metaphor. It is a medical wonder.\"\n\n\"Yeah, we all have layers. Alright already.\" He said. \"You're certainly being enough of a prick, anyway.\" \n\nI did not think that he would understand the nature of my person any time soon. As I understood human emotions, this was a conversation that would end our friendship. I was not looking forward to trying to find a new companion. \n\n\"I just don't know why you won't say what you mean.\" He said, tapping on the table once again. His fiddling was beginning to cause me frustration. \"Why don't you just show me what you mean? Actions speak louder than words, you know? I don't understand why you won't give this a chance.\" \n\nFine. I would show him exactly what I meant. I snatched a knife from its place on my napkin and held it to my arm. One slice cut right through the false layer of human skin, butter knife though it was. The green of my flesh greeted me, and a trickle of pale juice ran from my cut. \n\nI didn't know what I expected. A scream, perhaps. A horrified gasp. Maybe a shriek and \"You're a monster!\" \n\nWhatever it was, I did not expect this. A grin. \n\n\"I knew it.\" He said, laughing. I was not prepared for this reaction. \n\nHe reached over and gently slid the knife from my grip. \n\n\"I always suspected it, you had all the hallmarks. But I couldn't be sure.\" He said, sighing lightly. He seemed relieved. \n\nWith a certain fluidity, he slipped the knife over his own arm. His skin parted, and beneath it, a flash of green peeked out. \n\n\"So,\" he said, wiping the knife off with a napkin. \"Are you sure you don't want to give this thing a chance?\" \n\nI couldn't believe it. I had been alone for centuries, sure I was the only one of my kind. I slipped my hand towards his, feeling more alive than I ever had. Maybe we could give this a chance. ", "\"Hey, um.\"\n\nAlan turned to Tom, and he breathed out sharply, and the words flew out of his mouth:\n\n\"I've-never-heard-you-talk-about-girls-or-anything-so-I'm-going-to-take-a-crazy-shot-at-this:\"\n\n--a quick pause--\n\n\"I love you.\"\n\nAlan sort of froze, a half-grin half-wince on his face, waiting for the response.\n\nTom shifted on the couch, in that weird stiff way of his. Alan found it endearing. Tom opened his mouth as if to say something, but he closed it again.\n\n\"Did you hear what I said?\" Alan asked. \"I...\" he huffed, bringing up the courage again, \"I love. You.\"\n\n\"I haven't been completely honest with you, Alan.\" Tom's arms went up stiffly and he gripped his own head, holding it steady as a seam appeared right at the hairline, a bright light shining through the crack. The \"skull\" opened up and a tiny cactus in a metal pot popped up out of the hatch.\n\n\"Oh no. No no no.\" Alan's face had changed in that moment. \"You need to get your stuff and get a Nessie and get out of here. You can't stay with me.\"\n\n\"I knew by being so nice things were getting out of control but I also couldn't afford to get kicked out and I was really hoping that--\"\n\n\"--And put ... yourself back in your human suit! I don't want to see you like this!\" Alan turned away. \"I can't believe this is happening again.\" He groaned and looked up at the ceiling.\n\n\"--that no one would get ... hurt. Yeah. Back in the suit.\" A little whirr-click. \"Back in the suit, see?\"\n\nAlan was still turned away. \"You're not the first Invested I've been in love with.\" He finally turned back towards. \"I should have put on the stupid roommate ad, 'NO INVESTED' but that would have made me look like a racist jerk. I DON'T KNOW, MAYBE I AM.\"\n\n\"What was he?\"\n\n\"A fish, a Nova Trout.\" Alan was calming down. \"Big barrel of a man, his life support was in his chest, the chest of his encounter suit, I mean.\"\n\n\"They can't really mask the pump noise for water-kinds. You knew what he was right away.\"\n\n\"Yes, I knew. And we tried to make it work. But when I was with him I couldn't ever really be with him.\" Alan's eyes were focused far, far away. \"We were laying in bed and he opened his tank, and I stuck my hand in the water, it was a lot colder than I expected it to be. And I saw the little wires that hooked him up, and felt his scales and his fins, and the water flowing over my fingers.\" Dark spots appeared on Alan's shirt, his cheeks were wet. \"And I knew that he would always be alien to me. And I feel, feel like a real jerk for feeling that way but ... my heart needs to be with a human. Someone made out of the same stuff that I am. I tried to change. I can't. I can't.\"\n\nTom was quiet.\n\nAlan continued. \"I don't envy you. You never asked for human intelligence, sentience. But you have to live with it. You have to be out in human society. To do the best you can.\"\n\n\"I'm going to get my bag packed.\"\n\n\"I'm going to my room now. I'm not coming out until I hear you leave.\" Alan took two steps. \"But, if you ever need anything, like if you're in trouble, I'll help you. ... You just can't stay here.\" The door shut, and latched.\n\nIt took an hour for Tom to pack. The Nessie, sleek and fast, came up to the front dock of the house, and Tom crawled into the little streamlined pod strapped to her back. \n\n\"Have you heard of the Saturn, in Roseopolis?\"\n\nThe Nessie nodded, semi-aware but not fully conscious. She was lucky, things had gone right for her, correctly, according to human schemes, just enough extra smarts to do her job and serve her purpose. Some days Tom wished for the same, to dim his own light. But he was what he was, a human-intelligent cactus hooked up to an encounter suit. Irreversible, that; his own flame would continue to burn.\n\n\"Take me there.\"\n\nThe main local current ran for about 100 kilometers to the south, to a large seastead called Roseopolis, about a thousand platforms on a quiet spot on the Great Ocean. With any luck he'd be able to get a room again at the Saturn, an expended rocket fuel tank that had been converted into a floating hostel that was accommodating to the Invested.\n\nThe credit cost flashed up on his pocket computer; Tom pressed his thumbprint to pay for the trip, and the Nessie slid away from the dock.\n\nTom looked over his shoulder one last time, and saw Alan in the doorway, the waves lapping up gently to the dock. Suddenly, Nessie dove under the water, and with the disappearing view a chapter of Tom's life came to a close.", "Fred could barely look me in my rubber human eyes, so he continued speaking to the table. He had already spent five minutes praising my personality, my looks, and my kindness. He spent another five fretting that this might change our friendship, but also convinced that this was the right thing to do. The only thing he could do, he insisted. \n \nAt least initially, it was well rehearsed. Now he was just repeating himself. \"This is something I have to say,\" he said for the fifth time, \"you're amazing. You're the most amazing person I've ever met, and I just know that if didn't say something I would regret it.\" \n\nI should have stopped him ten minutes ago, somewhere between \"you're the love of my life\" and \"I know I don't deserve you,\" but frankly, I didn't know how. How do you tell someone you can't love him the way he loves you? Not because you don't want to but because you can't. I have neither human emotions nor human genitals. I can love only as a cactus. I tried to imagine what Fred would look like with a few needles sticking out of his skin, but it wasn't working. \n\n\"Fred,\" I said, \"stop.\" He looked at me and I saw his face fall, like he had just watched his home run go foul. \n\n\"OK. Shit. Shit. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm such an idiot,\" he whined. \"I should never have said anything.\" \n\n\"No, it's OK,\" I tried to reassure him. \"I'm glad you said something. But, listen, I can't be with you, like that. Let me explain -\"\n\n\"You're not gay. I get it.\" \n\n\"It's not that. I am gay,\" I said. A gay cactus, I finished in my head. \n\n\"You are? So it's me. I'm too old and ugly.\" Fred bit his lower lip to stop it from quivering. \"Why did I think I could be with someone like you? So stupid. I want to die right now. I can't--\"\n\n\"Please, stop it! You're amazing, you're wonderful. I love you as a friend.\" \n\n\"Pfff. Great. Thanks,\" he responded saltily. I could tell this was going nowhere. It was time. I found the seam of my mask and started to pull. I didn't say a word, but I watched Fred's face as the rubber stretched outwards from my neck, revealing my green vegetal skin underneath. It was clear he wasn't sure what he was witnessing, like seeing a car crash for the first time. Is this even real or is this on television, you think. It takes a few seconds for the brain to fully grasp the import of the scene. \n\nEven after my mask was fully removed and it was just me, all cactus from the neck up, looking unwavering at Fred, he didn't say anything. He just got up and walked out. I cried that night, letting out as much water as I could spare for the season. I never heard from Fred again. Am I prickly about it? Sure, I'm a cactus. But I wish him well, wherever he is. " ]	4
	[WP] History is never recorded. Society rejects the validity of the past as world events become more distant and generations shift. You are the world's only historian. Describe today's political landscape.	[ "Again, the television broadcast Luciano speech. The speech was full of hate, he wished to bring his country to the top and yet unable to bring a reasonable solution, only blaming the immigrant, the minority for taking what belong to the people of his country, claiming territory that belong to other since the age of Alexander. But no one know the truth. All the people see was a patriot who can bring their country to greatness, who found their true enemy as people of other race, who wish to recover the country land. People just never learn. They just can't see they are heading down the same road with one of the most inhumane regime in history of mankind. And there is nothing that the historian can do. He lack voice, influence to change people mind. After all who would they believe, someone who do sketchy stuff, telling story no one can confirm or the one that wake this country back from depression.\n \n \"Those who study history have to hopelessly watch those who don't repeat it\"\n \n Sarcastic, yes. But it will become true shortly. And the historian is making preparation to record next phase of the world, thinking\n\n \"Hopefully someone can stop this vicious cycle\"" ]	1
	[WP] You must kill a designated target once per week to stay alive.	[ "\"You owe me your life, Ms. Grean!\" He yelled out of the darkness that was hiding all of Him but left just enough of Him in the light to let me see what He want me to. I was currently getting hollered at by the man who protected my family from the law all those year's ago. He was mad because he wants me to be his hit man or hit woman, I guess you could say, but I said no.\n\n\"I know sir but...\" I tried but He interrupted me.\n\n\"Fine new deal,\" He said with and evil smile on his dark face, \"If you don't kill a designated person of my choosing each week, You. Will. Die. Understood?\" \n\nI gulped and slowly nodded. \"Yes, of course, sir.\" Why did I even open my big ass mouth. Fuck. If I would have just agreed it would have been every now and then but no. I had to say something. Shit.\n\n\"You'll get your first mission tomorrow. I will have someone following you and watching so don't think you can not do it but say you did. Now get a good night sleep Ms. Grean, you have a big day tomorrow.\" He said and left my apartment building. \n\nI walk in slowly and start crying after all these years He finally came to me to make me pay and instead of listening and saying yes I argued and now I have to kill to live. How ironic. \n\nI would go to the law but they have been after my parents for years if I go to them they'll interrogate me and find out where they are. I have no choice. I have to do what He wants.\n\nThe next morning I wake up to someone knocking on my door. Six o'clock in the morning. I barely slept last night considering what I was supposed to do this week. I think I finally slipped into unconsciousness around three thirty. I get up, throw on a robe, and open the door. One of His henchmen is holding a file out to me. I grasp it, he lets go, and leaves without a word.\n\nI shut the door and head to the kitchen. I set the file down to make myself some coffee. After I've had about two cups of coffee and made my third I finally open the file to figure out who my first victim is. \n\nHowever I find a letter first from Him. It said that I will get a file every Saturday and he expects results before the next Saturday. It also said I will be provided all the tools I need along with the file but later in the day. I am going to be payed in advance this time but the next time only after I kill the person. \n\nAfter His letter I find the name and description of the target along with a picture. Tiffany Vancouver. Her description isn't very long. She is a red haired, and blue eyed. She works as a High School teacher. She stands at an alarmingly height of 6'6\". \n\nThe next part is why I need to get rid of her. Apparently she was one of his whores until she was found to be undercover, as she used to be in the CIA, to over throw Him. When she found out He knew she ran and got into the witness protection. Until now because He found her and now it was my duty to kill her for Him. \n\nI can't believe He wants me to do this. I don't have it in me. I can't kill someone. But then again I do have self preservation. I can pretend He is the good guy and she is the evil one. Yes that will have to work I don't want to die.\n\nA knock on my door came later that day at about twelve noon, with my money, her location, and the weapons I will use on her. Along came a plane ticket under a false name so it can't be traced back to me.\n\nI am no longer Francessca Grean, no now I'm Carmen Jo Freedman. And CJ isn't afraid of getting a little blood on her hands in order to save her own life. No CJ will do as He wants to live.", "I killed. I lived. They lived. You were saved.\n\nIt was a sunny morning about 6 months back. I sipped coffee on the kitchen counter. Absently, scratching the bump on my arm, I trudged to the door where the mail had strewn on the mat. \"Bills, bills, bills, Legal policies, 89th issue of my subscription..\", I skimmed the contents before me. The papers parted to reveal a green tough envelope. \n\nThey wanted me to go to Africa. I winced. The beautiful March, summer peeping in, winter wrapping her furs, I would have to leave this behind for the sweat, marshes, bodies of decay. I winced again. I had signed up for this. I had to pack and leave. West Africa.\n\nI saw the hot bodies around me. I saw the garbage piles making them unease. I saw people cleaning the area aggressively. The man on my right, grasped my hand and tugged. I squirmed. He pulled me harder. He whispered as I bent to lend an ear, \"Marcia, bal... no fis...\", he couldn't manage it anymore, and heaved as he sank, letting me go. He coughed blood, his spittle on my mask as I struggled to make sense and stand up again. I injected him, and watched him become peaceful and calm. My first one.\n\nLater, they dragged me to the center, stripping me and reddening my skin with stones. I was given a fresh set of clothes and told to meet the super. I knew many more were to come. Overwhelmed at the sight of loss, death, anxiety and my role in it, I stepped into the super's office.\n\nHe smiled at me, \"Welcome, I hope you have been shown the reigns. I hear you impressively calmed a man today. Well done. These are spreading like wildfire. I want you to understand the death threat they pose for you and the world. A minimum I ask you is that YOU MUST KILL OUR TARGET ONCE PER WEEK TO STAY ALIVE and to keep others alive too. I am proud to have you on board, Nurse Marcia. Together we shall combat Ebola.\"", "“Please, make this all end”, my words barely comprehensible between the deep sobbing attempts at breath I could manage to attempt in my desperation. \n\n“If you don’t complete the task we will stop treatment, and everyone you’ve ever loved will be killed. I’m a reasonable person Mathew and I don’t like to get my hands dirty. Man up, I’ll talk to you next week”, Her voice was emotionless and stone cold. I’ve never met her, but once a week a package showed up in my mailbox and I went to work. For the past year and a half, I’ve unwillingly been an unpaid hit man.\n\nDecember 16th 2014, a date etched into my memories that no amount of therapy could ever scrub clean. It began just as any other day in my black and white life had, I followed the routine I had become comfortable with. Wake up at 7:45am, Dressed and ready to begin my day filing paperwork by 8:30. I drove past the same pastures and decayed business complex’s every day since I graduated high school, 18 long years of a mundane routine. That day was different, it set the course for the roller coaster ride to come that I had no power to stop.\n\nPulling into the plain white office building’s parking lot I sat in my car and stared at that hellhole until I couldn’t handle what I had let my life become, and stepped out onto the faded yellow line that marked the edge of my parking spot. That yellow line had become my only true friend, for within its confines held all of my insecurities and loathing. It had absorbed the very essence of my being and was the only thing in this world that understood who I was. That was my last thought before I felt a sharp pain on the back of my head and saw that same yellow line rushing up to my face, or maybe I was falling into it.\n\nA bright light shone into my eyes and somehow I knew where I was, some sort of operating room. I can’t explain it but I just knew that’s where I was. An IV fed from a bag full of black fluid pumped the concoction into my veins, I don’t know if I was just paralyzed by fear or if it was that fluid but I couldn’t move, I didn’t even have the power to panic. \n\nI woke up in my bed, and the next three days was the worst time of my life. I was too sick to leave, every movement sent a painful shockwave up my spine so intense I vomited. I’ve never come closer to death and with every minute that passed, more of my life force and will to live slipped by with it. That’s when the phone call rang, and I was told that in exchange for a weekly dose that they called a “treatment”, I would have to kill whoever they wanted me to. I was coming so close to accepting my unfortunate fate, but when a solution was offered I hopped at the chance to rid myself of this aliment. Noncompliance meant my slow and agonizing death, but my compliance has led to the death of 84 people.\n\nThinking back on those three days after her words were processed by my brain, I knew I didn’t have the willpower to disobey. Before I flipped my phone shut I dryly said, “Next week it is”. The moonlight made my cherry red 93’ Chevy Blazer shine a dark maroon color, almost with a tint of blood in it. The woodlands surrounding this barren lot were still. \n\nI checked the photograph included in this week’s package, and sure enough there was the man that I had been asked to kill. My grip tightened on the 2x2 photograph, I barely recognized what I looked like a year and a half ago. \n", "My phone vibrated on my dining room table, followed by the beeping of an alarm. 12 AM, target time. I sighed, downed my drink and checked out the poor sod I was told to kill. He wouldn't see it coming, though nobody ever does.\n\nI was hoping for one of those sick fucks up in parliament, but of course it was just the face and name of some average joe, a shmuck just like me. The politicians were never a target.\n\nThey were the ones, after all, who came up with this stupid dictatorship I and 5 million others live in. Originally, it was made to control the population, but I see hundreds, if not thousands of house 'for sale' every day with more increasing as each hour passes. It's more of a blood sport now.\n\nWe had no idea that electing her as president would fuck it all to hell. We were all fooled, blinded by the political correctness and campaigns against the billionaire. We're stupid.\n\nI have her to blame, too. My child was left in pieces, my wife left to rot and I can't even remember their fucking names. It's been six weeks. \n\nIt's 5am now, nothing I'm not used to, and I'm sitting on my bed crying a river, drowning in self-pity, even though it's my fault. I was the one who killed them.\n\nThat god damn Hilary did this to me. It's 8am and here I am staring out my window with bags under my eyes staring death in the face for a sixth time. \n\nWell, you know what they say. What goes around comes aro\n\nEDIT: Fifth to sixth time", "Its meaning and its affect go unnoticed in the daily sphere of life from the early beads of sun rays that shine marking the start of a new day to the first morsel of food that slides down your throat and from the last step you take before your tired body curls into its slumber you can never fully appreciate the value of a life. \n\nUntil you take it.\n\nThe gas bomb cylinder that sat at the back of my van smelt of foreign chemical's and toothpaste. Its smell lingered in the car weaving its way into every nook and cranny. The van was bare of all seating and comfort to make space for the various rounds of ammunition and weaponry that swayed from side to side.\n\nIt was 6 minutes till D day and the pamphlet that slid into my mail box that Sunday afternoon had given us our target. A twelve year old girl by the name of Alice. She lived in Saint George Terrace a 4 hour care ride. Lucky enough I'd manged to take time off work. I hated Monday's but after this it was just me, my gold clubs and a beautiful, glorious afternoon.\n\nThe bright sun was high in the sky glimmering, shining beautifully. Our feet crunched on the green grass as we made our way to the porch. I held my gun steady and jammed it in the corner of the door in case little Alice didn't want any visitors today.\n\nThree rasps on the door was all it took for the pet dog to bark itself into a frenzy waking up his owners. Heavy footsteps came from behind the door before the door swung open.\n\nA little girl with blonde hair tied back in a pony tail stood in the door way with two semi-automatic rifles pointing between her eyes.\n\n\"Udda'an Noi'badan ssstaat'aata.\" She said, licking eye balls.", "“Oho! You shall not catch me unawares this time, wizard!”\n\nThe hunched figure in the center of the stage threw his cloak behind him to reveal a set of brilliant blue robes. He rose to his full height and shook out a bushy fake white beard.\n\n“Curses!” shouted the wizard, “My illusions have fooled many men greater than you, knight. I suppose I will have to resort to a more…direct method of revenge.”\n\nI sunk back into the shadows off the side of the stage. It looked like act two would be ending any minute now. I looked down at my hands. It was dark, but I could see the tips of my fingers beginning to wisp and fade away. This scene had to end, and fast. I rubbed my palms together, desperately trying to keep the feeling in my hands. This was the closest I had ever gotten to missing my deadline.\n\n“Your spells have no more power over me, wizard. I have protection.” The knight reached into a pouch at his side and brandished a fist-sized glass gemstone.\n\nThe wizard shrunk back. “The Stone of Trolobellum!”\n\nThe knight slid his rusted visor back above his head. He flashed an arrogant grin at the audience. “Your reign of terror ends here!”\n\nThe wizard scuttled back toward the right side of the stage. “Be wary, brave knight. That stone may not make you as safe as you think!” He raised a flowing sleeve to cover his face. He waved a hand over the audience. “Magical escape!” he cried, dashing offstage.\n\nLooking across the stage, I could see the wizard remove his beard and hang it on a wall.\n\n“Huh!” The knight tossed the crystal up into the air and slid it back into his pouch. “That wizard sure is crazy. I do believe that’s the last I’ll see of him.” He began whistling a chirpy tune as he strode offstage.\n\nI watched the actor approach, shuffling back into a dark corner. The audience began to applaud and a young boy ran to slide the curtain closed. Yes. Perfect. We were completely cut off from the audience, and the actor who played the wizard had disappeared into the back room to wash up.\n\nThe knight walked closer, visor down and unable to see me. This was it. The actor briefly glanced at the wooden prop table before turning to enter the back room. I reached a hand to my belt and reached for my knife.\n\nI felt nothing. I grabbed around in a sudden panic but couldn’t find the knife. I looked down, horrified to see my misty hand swipe right through the handle of my weapon.\n\nThe actor strode past my hiding place and went into the back room.\n\nI swore under my breath. It might already be too late. I tried to open the door, but my arms spread into mist as I hit it. I gritted my teeth and focused, pushing with all of my might. My arms solidified enough to tap the door open and I slid into the back room.\n\n“Good show tonight. Great crowd.”\n\n“Oh, I messed up that one line. Could you tell?”\n\nThe two actors were seated on a bench near the right side door. They didn’t seem to notice as I slipped into the room and hid behind an armor rack. The room was dimly lit by a candlestick on the table in the back. A small basin of water sat next to the table and a large polished mirror rested on it.\n\n“Oh, don’t worry about it. I missed that whole monologue about the curse. I don’t think they’ll notice.”\n\nNow that I had stopped moving, my legs began to waver beneath me. I beat my chest to try and keep myself grounded but I could feel myself starting to disperse. It felt like I was fighting to keep from falling asleep.\n\nThe knight rose to his feet, armor clanking gently. “I’m going to do the ‘traveling through the forest’ scene before everyone decides to leave.”\n\nThe beardless wizard nodded. “Best of luck.”\n\nThe knight left through the right side door. The wizard stood up and knelt at the water basin, splashing water on his face. I planted my feet firmly on the ground and sprinted silently across the room to follow the knight.\n\nI caught my reflection in the mirror as I passed. My entire body was shifting and sinking as I moved. The green tunic I was wearing seemed to be barely held up as if kept aloft by a swarm of bees. My face was the only part of my body which looked intact, albeit gaunt and creased with stress. Awful. I ducked through the slightly open door before the wizard could lift his head.\n\nNow on the opposite side of the stage, I could see that the curtains were open. The show had already started. The knight was marching in place in the middle of the stage and was singing slightly off key out into the audience.\n\nI closed my eyes, straining to keep another part of myself from slipping away. I didn’t have much time left. The discarded wizard cloak from earlier was piled in a heap slightly off stage. I waved my arms into hands and managed to shrug it on before my fingers drifted away.\n\nHolding my chest together with my left hand, I slinked out on stage.\n\nThe knight stopped mid-song. He lifted up his visor and stared at me with puzzled eyes. “Uh—why, we meet again, foolish wizard. You’re…early.”\n\nSummoning every last bit of strength I had, I grabbed my knife, lunged forward, and plunged it into the actor’s chest. Giving him a final shove, he crumpled to the ground.\n\nThe floorboards creaked as I solidified onto the ground. I wobbled slightly as my body sunk back into its original shape. Flexing my fingers, I sighed in relief.\n\nA little less than a hundred people stared up at me, silently. Bright lights were shining directly on me.\n\n“I, uh,” I said placing one foot on the dead actor’s shoulder, “You thought you could get away from me, you foolish knight?”\n\n---\n\nFeel yourself slipping away? Take a breather at /r/FlyingNarwhal.", "11:58. 11:59. 12:00.\n\nI wasn't dead. Someone was, but it wasn't me.\n\nShe was four. About to turn five - not the person I had killed, but her. The little girl mumbling about monsters in her sleep. I had told her they didn't exist, it's a lot easier that way.\n\nIn two minutes I would get the call, I could hang up on it, try something new. But then monsters would exist, and they can't - someone's got to tell her that. She had her mother's eyes, my eyes, and my dad's weird-ass thumbs. Most people's thumbs were almost fifty-fifty top and bottom, his had always been closer to seventy-five-twenty-five.\n\nIn one minute I would get the call, I could say no, try something new. But damned if I'd let monsters exist. I had to get up, leave the room, drown that sinking feeling I always got that maybe, maybe this time I'd never go back in. Maybe tomorrow she'll try to sneak into that bed and find it empty again, maybe tomorrow she'll see the skeletons in the closet, the monster under the bed, and maybe no one will be there to tell her they don't exist.\n\nI got the call. I said yes. I went back to bed.\n\nWhy couldn't she have had Jane's hair? Jane's thumbs? Jane's, Jane?\n\nI shivered despite the comforter. The closet was open, and I swore I heard a growl beneath the bed, but it was just me. Just an empty stomach, and just an untouched dress waving in the soft drafts.\n\nIn the morning she would go to school. She'd laugh and play with her classmates.\n\nI'd hold her hand till we got to the bus, kiss her goodbye, and watch until the bus disappeared around the corner. If I was unlucky it'd be the day she asked what happened to mom, if I was lucky then she'd say that she loved me.\n\nShe'd be back at three, and I had to be there at that bus stop - she couldn't make it back otherwise, I wouldn't let her try. In those hours I had a debt to pay, and I'd be off preparing.\n\nDay after day, preparing. Each day checking my watch when the bus turned the corner.\n\nMonday I bought hydrochloric acid.\n\nTuesday I found him.\n\nWednesday I followed him.\n\nThursday I dug up the gun.\n\nFriday - friday would be the first night that some girl would go to her father's bed, ready to be told that monsters don't exist.\n\nFriday - friday would be the day that some girl learned that monsters exist.\n\nBut it wouldn't be my girl.\n\nShe had Jane's eyes, for better or worse. Day after day I told myself that it was a blessing, because if she had been able to see what I had done to Jane - well, then she'd know I had been lying.\n\nMonsters can't exist, not for my girl.", "Closing time.\n\nI finally start to relax as I wipe down the bar. Empty drinks find their way to the sink and the last of the drunk gives up and heads out into the street. I switch off the open sign. Then on. Then off again. I pour myself bourbon and put out a beer. It's not long before he shows up.\n\nThe man that walks in doesn't look out of the ordinary. Brown coat, 5 o'clock shadow, and thready sweater. A cop on patrol might give him a hard time just for fun. Wouldn't know he was dealing with the fucking devil. \n\n\"You hit your quota?\" He pops open his beer never even glancing my way.\n\n\"You read the papers. Old man Gonzalez that used to run the liquor store. Sandra Marquez the week before. Bloody mess.\"\n\nHe downed half the beer in one swallow. \"I read. A 'massacre' they called it. Like you can have a massacre with one victim.\" He pulled a pocketbook from his coat and started marking down names; confirming kills. I sit quietly and nurse my drink. This guy makes my skin crawl.\n\n\"We're changing your MO\"\n\nI shoot him a glare. \"Slashing isn't gory enough for you people? Fuck you.\"\n\nHe ignores my outburst. \"For the time being, you're gonna take something from them. First a kidney, then a brain, then a heart. In that order.\"\n\n\"You people are sick! You don't just want them living in fear, you get off on this shit!\"\n\n\"We need headlines in this neighborhood. We're giving some of the others the month off. Keep it up and I'll put one back on duty and you'll find yourself short a kidney.\"\n\nHe put money on the counter. He always paid his tab. He never looked me in the eye. \n\nMy stomach is getting upset at the thought of my assignment. I want to scream and lash out. That would only end badly for me. Instead I sulk as he walks out.\n\n\"I didn't ask for this,\" I say to my drink.\n\nHe pauses at the door. \"Neither did I.\"" ]	8
	[WP] You just died, however you have unlimited respawns. Each time you die you revert back to your last save point. It's your sixth birthday.	[ "I wake up.\n\nIt felt really bad to die out of an heart attack all of sudden. I did not have any chance to say goodbye or anything. But to my surprise, maybe I will be able to after all. Waking up on my childhood bed was a dream I've dreamt for a long time now. Beeing able to live as the childish me I used to be. Your mindset really do change after 64 years, after all. \n\nBut waking up on my childhood bed was a wierd experience. It felt more real than any of my previous dreams, and in some perspective, unrealistic. I might have woken up, but I'm not going to go up. The beds sheets were so calming, and so soft. Thats when I Remembered. The day of my sixth birthday. I remembered that my wish for blowing out the candles on my birthday cake was to always be able to sleep in such a comfy bed as this one. You could say I was a bed maniac. Either way, that wish was nothing that ever came true. Through all these years, and the bed I slept in every night just got worse. But here I am, sleeping in the same comfy bed as 6 year old me.\n\nIt was then I heard the voices, the singing. The birthday song just slighty reaching my room through the closed door. It felt calming, and It got closer for every second. For some reason, I felt like this was what my life was going towards for. Not to get new goals, but to re-live the best experiences I've lived through. After all, I am dead.\n\nThe doors opens, and in I saw the most wonderful face. With the most wonderful song I haven't heard in almost 20 years. It was my Moms face with my moms song. The song I lived for, the song that went quiet in 1984. I felt overjoyed, so I started Crying, just like a 6 year old child would cry. My mom hurried to me to see what was wrong, and asked;\n\n- How are you sweeite, why are you crying?\n\n- Mom, I am so happy. I cant remember last time I've felt this happy before.\n\n- I am glad your happy, sweeite, but I know something that will make you more happy, open this present!\n\n\nIt's been another 70 years after that now, sitting here as an 76 year old. She was wrong that the present would make the happiest man alive more happy, but the fact that I Knew what I would get was probably what ruin it a bit. Either way, sitting here as 76 years old, 32 years later after my moms second death, I can barely wait to die again, to feel that bed, to listen to my mom once again. Some people would call me dumb to not use another checkpoint in my life, But I knew, That when I die, everything would be fine again. I cant wait to meet her.\n\n> sorry for any sort of bad grammar, I really tried to write it so you peeps would understand. I might not be 100% good at english, But I cant resist to write this story down. Hope you enjoyed it!" ]	1
	[WP] Holding your breath, you tap the softly glowing light. At your touch, it flashes, and the darkness begins to disappear.	[ "Year: 2100\n\nBreath.\n\nTwitch.\n\nBreath.\n\nAwareness.\n\nA Touch. Time to wake, it said.\n\nI scratch something, somewhere, on the Mass of Great Demands. That's what I used to think my body was, before. \n\nAnother Touch. Time to dress, it said. All I knew of it are the soft textures, the drag on my skin, the warm, sweet smell. \n\nAnother Touch. Time to move through the great void, it said. I cling to something that moves. I move with it. There are things that don't move out there. Things that hurt when I don't stop. \n\nCold air swirls around me. I smell the unknowable things beyond, sharp and sweet and warm and oily, all mixed together. A handful of steps, and a touch on my head. Sit, it said. \n\nVibrations, I feel them in the centre of my being. I am swayed back and forth, gently. I feel a breeze blowing on my face. I turn my face towards it. \n\nThe vibrations stop. Cold air swirls around me again. A few steps, and the air becomes warmer, and stiller. I wrinkle my nose at the smell... sharp and harsh and wrong. I know that smell. It means pokes and prods and unfamiliar hands. I resist, pulling back against the hands. \n\nA soft touch in my face; comfort, reassurance. A squeeze in my hand. Another tug forward. I follow, but not before delivering a protesting nudge.\n\n A long time of steps, and a touch on my head again. Sit. \n\nI obey, tensing for the inevitable prods and buffets, strange things stuck to my face and ears. I fidget with them, and rough, cold hands soothe me. \n\nThen something happened that was new. Something I did not recognise. Could not recognise. I discovered later that it was a light. \n\nThis strange apparition floated before me. There was nothing for it. Holding my breath, I reached out and tapped the softly glowing light, it flashed, and slowly the darkness began to disappear. \n\nIt was all a bit of a blur after that. Neurological and sensory overload, apparently. I was told later - many, many times - that the first thing I heard was this: \n\n\"Auditory and visual systems online. Procedure successful. Well done everyone.\" \n\nIf I try very hard, I think I remember my mother in the surgery, smiling down at me. \n", "The tunnel had been a seemingly never ending stride through the pitch black darkness. Until I came upon the Light that is. It gave off a soft glow that radiated with warmth and was only about the size of a tennis ball. It floated before me, illuminating the smooth rock that was all around me. Inspecting the walls, i saw many carvings etched into its surface. The rock face was covered in carvings of names and initials. Of stick figure families, hand-in-hand. Some of the carvings look like tally marks, taking up whole sections of the wall. There was even a bloody hand print in one spot, the last message of someone that had lost hope in the blackness.\n\nTurning my attention back to the Light, I find it hard to look at. It feels like staring into the sun after being in the dark for so long. I reach out to the light that was just in from of me, but the further I reached, the further it seemed to pull away and yet seemed to stay in place. Despairing, I followed the Light as it moved away starting at a walk and changing to a run. Desperate I was to feel its warmth, to remain in its glow. My outstretched hand felt hot and looked like it could be closer to the orb. I ran faster. I had to catch it. I had to feel it in my hand. On my skin. It was my only hope of surviving this place. \n\nI ran. On and on, I ran. The tunnel never turned, it never shifted except for the carvings. Hundreds and thousands of carvings passed as I chased the Light, never stopping to inspect them. Until at last, the tip of my finger felt the surface of the light. The Light exploded forcing my hands to my eyes to block out the brightness. The darkness around me melted away in an instant and I felt warm. For once, I truly felt alive. \n\nI opened my eyes slowly. Light was everywhere. The tunnel I had been trapped in was no more, and instead I stood on a sea of clouds. I great gate of gold and marble stood before me. A man in an all white toga held together by a golden clasp with the image of lightning bolt engraved on it stood beside one of its pillars. In his hands, he held a clipboard and on his face, was a pleasant smile.\n\n\"Welcome,\" he said, \"to Elysium.\"" ]	2
	[WP] You are invited to your partner's house to meet their parents, but when you go in, the parents are merely dolls in clothes. Navigate dinnertime without hurting your partner's feelings.	[ "What he had told me was true so why was I so surprised. It all made sense now, \"My parents don't talk much, they don't get out of the house much, I can look after them, we don't need doctors.\" They certainly didn't talk much, both sat there large as life with their carved wooden smiles and their painted eyes.\nI forced a smile and tried to behave normally. \n\n\n\"what a great meal your son has prepared, Mrs H\", I addressed her, \"or can i call you Alice?\".i turned to his father, \"i'm so pleased to meet you, I've heard so much about you\". I filled my plate with the piping hot pasta and sauce and began to eat. Every so often, I turned to his father and wiped his mouth.\"No trouble at all, and please don't be embarrassed, I'm used to helping my own aged aunts and uncles.\" At the end of the meal, I took all the plates into the kitchen, imploring his mother to remain seated, I had it all in hand\".\nI kissed them both on the cheek as we left and then in the car on the way home, I brought up the subject with Alan, I had seen a different side to him and I knew I had to tread carefully. \"Sweetheart\", I began, \"why didn't you trust me?\" He looked almost angry and I could see a tic beginning in his face as he gripped the steering wheel.\n\n\n\"Let me help\" I said sweetly, \"We can get a therapist\". Alan took his hands off the wheel and turned to me. I did not know what he was capable of as he clenched his fist. \"Your parents are more ill than you described and I think a therapist would do wonders for your mother's speech problem and your father's movement.It must be awful for them.I will call for help first thing tomorrow.\"\n\n\nAlan nodded his head and we drove on, the sound of Alan's contented humming overshadowing my terror.", "I nervously sipped at my glass of wine, eyes darting back and forth between the pair seated across from me and the front door, a million miles away. The kitchen island was in the way. Jonathan was happily tossing a salad on the polished marble counter top.\n\n\"Just a minute, guys!\" he said, in that chipper voice that I used to attribute to his boundless optimism about the world at large, and now I suspected was a symptom of whatever condition he had. He turned his bright gaze to me, and I congratulated myself on not flinching. \"I'm sorry, honey bun,\" he said with a wink (who winks? I wondered. Crazy people, that's who.) \"My parents love it when I cook for them. Right, Mom?\"\n\nMy eyes slid over to the large stuffed bear that sat in the chair across from me, making brief eye contact with the printed photo of Julia Roberts' face that was painstakingly attached to the bear's head. Next to \"her\" sat a large stuffed plush of Olaf the Snowman. Jonathan burst into laughter, apropos of nothing. His chuckles faded as he realized I wasn't laughing too. I giggled politely, fearing for my life.\n\nThen the salad course came, and Jonathan and I had our Caesar salad while his \"parents\" noshed on what appeared to be a plate of quilting squares. Jonathan caught the bear and Olaf up on how he had been doing at college while I made the appropriate, supportive noises.\n\n\"Wow, Dad. You've got quite an appetite tonight,\" said Jonathan, looking at Olaf's untouched plate of fabric pieces. \"Mom not feeding you enough? Or wait--let me guess--you don't care for rabbit food, eh? Don't worry, meat course coming right up!\"\n\nWhile he cleared our salad plates and went to swap them out for our steaks, I thought hard of a way that I could get out of here alive. I could just imagine, a year down the road, Jonathan leading a different girl in here, introducing her to his mother, Julia-bear, his father, Olaf, and his clingy ex, possibly represented by a rocking horse with my face pasted on, who insisted on meeting his parents before they moved any further in their relationship. Stupid stupid stupid.\n\nJonathan served his parents puddles of yarn. I swallowed as I started to saw into my steak, then piped up, \"Oh, me? I'm studying economics, but I do a lot of art on the side.\" I smiled vapidly at Olaf. \"In fact I--\" I tried to startle as convincingly as I could, and looked at Jonathan, \"Sweetie pie, you know what? I'm such a dummy. I brought a gift for your parents and I left it in the car!\"\n\n\"Oh yeah?\" Jonathan brightened. \"Where is it? I can go get it.\"\n\n\"Uh...\" my brain stalled. \"No! I wouldn't want to get in the way of you catching up with your folks. And it's, you know, a really delicate piece of work.\" I acted embarrassed. \"I don't want you to... well, you're kind of rough with things.\"\n\n\"Fine, fine,\" said Jonathan good-naturedly. He fished out the car keys and handed them to me. \"Don't take too long! Dessert's just about ready!\"\n\nIt took every ounce of willpower I could muster to not break into a full run once I got out the front door. I sauntered casually down the steps of the porch, strolled to Jonathan's car parked in the driveway, unlocked the sporty little thing.\n\nAnd then I got in and I noped the fuck out of there." ]	2
	[WP] You are an extremely rich Philanthropist, but your methods of charity are quite odd...	[ "Rich Richington was known by many. He was, as his name suggested, rather wealthy, and did his part to share his blessings with others.\n\nHowever, his life of luxury has left him very bored with life, hence why he changed his name to 'Rich Richington'. If you've ever seen a picture of him shirtless, you'd also see he had all his body and facial hair removed and a rather impressive tattoo that covers almost his entire upper body but is hidden beneath most shirts.\n\nTherefor, he gives large donations to whoever can entertain him the most. This has caused many movie, book, and video game franchises to become immensely successful, to the happiness of their fans. Star Wars, for example, has recently bloomed into life once again, though its newest trilogy also helped.\n\nRight now, he was meeting with some politician or other asking for a donation for their campaign. He agreed, on two conditions: said politician would push his agenda over all else (mostly basic human rights, such as raising the minimum wage, universal healthcare, etc), and he would take part in a comedy sketch involving various fictional characters, which would then be uploaded onto youtube as a Live-Action Abridged Series, something Rich hoped would take off.\n\nA month later, the video was uploaded. Both the media and the internet had a field day with it, considering every potential and current congressman was an actor, it was written by Steve Oedekerk (famous for writing and starring in Kung Pow! Enter the Fist), and Michael Bay (only, thankfully) handled the special effects. It was later adapted into a feature film with permission from the various owners of the characters." ]	1
	[WP] You have created a machine that can clone a human, memories and all. You've just cloned yourself, but the clone claims that he's the original.	[ "wasn't it obvious that that would happen.. anyways i/we wouldn't have that problem because i'm nihilist and don't care which one of us is the \"original\", we'd realise the power we two have and make more clones in ordee to create a massive non-connected hivemind to take over the world" ]	1
	[WP] Only You Have Always Been Able To See The Time Anyone Has Left Alive By A Digital Readout Above Their Head. The Times Fluctuate With Illness or Health Changes. This Morning All Clocks Synced Up, Just Over 88 Hours Remain Are Counting Down.	[ "How it occurs isn't important anymore. A synchronized event like this was out of my control. My experience had taught me it was all about choices and that anyone's future is more fluid. A man with two heart attacks under his (considerably stressed) belt eats a twenty ounce rib eye and I watch six weeks fall from his time left. I once saw a woman on the bus go from forty-seven years to mere hours. Her hair was unkempt, like it hadn't been washed in days but her clothes suggested she wasn't destitute. She was crying. I told myself not to get involved, as I lied this was my creed concerning my gift. I broke that promise, again. We talked for over an hour, and I hugged her goodbye. Her time returned, indicating a healthy, long life ahead.\n\nEighty-eight hours, forty-three minutes, and some change. That's all this city had left. I assumed it was the whole city, as I couldn't afford to drive three hours out of area to see the range of whatever was coming. Every taxi driver, businessmen, hot dog vendor, bike messenger, street cop, and even the children at the park by my apartment; the same time. The fact that they had all changed suddenly indicated someone, somewhere had made a choice. If it had been say an asteroid hurdling towards Earth, the path of that asteroid would have been determined centuries ago. No, something had changed. Someone had decided to kill everyone here, and there reason why did not change the facts.\n\nMy gift had never been wrong, though I could not help but hope maybe this time it was.\n\nI did not need to look in a mirror to see my own time. Three days is plenty of time to get far away from this city, maybe even spend some time saying goodbyes. But I knew my number wouldn't be any greater than my neighbors. In truth, I am tired. Every new coworker, friendly acquaintance, and family get together was a reminder of mortality. Ryan in the mailroom won't live to see his twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, my blind date has thirty years more than I do, Aunt Julie has four Christmases left with us. My gift was a crushing weight of certainty. I loved my city, and even with this curse I loved my neighbors. If I'm meant to die with them, I can accept that.\n\nA polished window on the street acts like a mirror. Above me: eighty-eight hours, forty minutes, and some change.\n\nPart 2?" ]	1
	[WP] You don't know what you expected when you went to investigate the noise on the roof. But it certainly wasn't the world's strongest superhero visibly sobbing.	[ "It was three in the morning when my beauty sleep was rudely interrupted by what sounded like both a crashing and scraping noise on my roof. Jumping out of bed (more of a pathetic fall actually), I raced outside to find out whatever the hell it was that woke me up.\n\n In the moonlight I could see that some fucker was sitting on my roof! What the hell did he do up there to make such a sound? Was he trying to break in through the roof?! I mean, I have like ten windows he could've climbed through! And it's the middle of the summer, so he could've Santa Clause'd it since the chimney's not smoking. I decided that it I needed to go up there and lecture him on how to properly break into somebody's home. And also call law enforcement.\n\nI got a knife from the kitchen and an extension ladder from the shed, which I extended up to the roof. What I found I couldn't believe. Not in my wildest dreams could I have forseen this. My *fucking shingles* were all over the damn roof! Also the world famous superhero Captain Prime was sobbing at the spot where the trail of fucked up shingles ended. It took me a minute (okay maybe longer than a minute), then I thought,\"Wait a minute...\"\n\n\"CAPTAIN PRIME!?\" I yelled at the top of my lungs.\n\nHe was choked up. He said in a somber tone,\"Yes... That's me... Or at least, that's who I once wa-\"\n\n\"WHY THE HELL DID YOU RUIN MY ROOF!? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH IT'S GOING TO COST TO FIX THIS!? I SURE AS HELL DON'T! WHAT THE FUCK WOULD I KNOW ABOUT SHINGLE REPAIR!? BECAUSE OF YOU I'M GOING TO HAVE TO DO RESEARCH ON FAIR SHINGLE REPAIR PRICES, *AND* I'M PROBABLY GONNA HAVE A LEAK BY THE TIME THAT HAPPENS!\"\n\nHe wiped his tears with his cape and responded,\"Well, I'm sorry citizen... I've just been having many troubles as of late... My sidekick Boy Thunder was... He was killed... And my fiance has been kidnapped... New York has banned me because of 'destructive vigilantism'... My arch ene-\"\n\n\"*WHAT!?\"\n\n\"My arch enemy... He broke into an orphanage for paraplegic babi-\"\n\n\"No I don't give a shit about that! The thing before that!\"\n\nHe looked up at me and said,\"I've been banned from New York because of-\"\n\n\"Destructive vigilantism. Huh... What would you say this* looks like to you?\" I glared at the broken hero.\n\n\"\"No! This wasn't even vigilantism!\" He was about to break down again.\n\n\"So you just broke my property for no good reason? Oh man, after I send pictures of this to Ray Ronah Ramsay at the Daily Times, I could only imagine what kind of story he'd make.\"\n\nCaptain Prime was speechless.\n\n\"Get out of my sight.\"\n\nHe got up, brushed himself off, and flew off into the distance. He left behind a trail of glimmering tears as he did. I went back inside, looked up some fair shingle repair prices, and returned to bed. I never did hear about Captain Prime again, but a new super villain wreaked havoc after his disappearance. \n\nThe diabolical Doctor Roofcrash strikes fear into the hearts of many, and ruins the roofing of all.", "\"It may sound absurd, but...\"\n\nHe shook his head.\n\nI sat quietly beside him on that dark hill, thinking about his words.\n\n\"No...\" I comforted him. \"No, it makes perfect sense.\"\n\nSilence fell between us.\n\n\"Do you have children, sir?\" he asked me quietly.\n\nI nodded, staring out to the night lights from high above the city. \"Yeah, two girls. One's six and the other's three.\"\n \n\"Then you know what I mean better than anyone.\"\n\nI didn't reply. I knew exactly what he meant. \n\nAnna suffered quietly for years, putting on a brave face for the children, and even for me. I only found out through her note, but by then, it was already too late -- she was gone, and not even Clark could bring her back.\n\nI wiped my eye and tried to hide my shivering voice behind a sigh. \"It's hard...\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" he said deeply, putting his face in his hands.\n\nPolice sirens went off in the distance. \"Do you want to take the night off?\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"No,\" he said through feigned strength. \"Somebody needs me.\"" ]	2
	[WP] It's the end of the world as we know it and we live to the fullest till the asteroid hits-- quitting jobs, professing love, going after dreams... but the calculations were off, we live and have to deal with the aftermath.	[ "I glance at my phone, checking the clock. “well Earl, looks like it’s about time” \n\nI already know what time it is, hell, the whole world knows what time it is at this very moment, pulling my phone out of my pocket is purely a force of habit.\n\nEarl glances up at me with the one eye that’s not swollen shut and tries to mumble something through the blood stained duct tape that is fixed across his mouth.\n\n“Can’t hear ya buddy” I mockingly respond, while cusping my ear in his direction.\n\nEarl again attempts to say something while also trying to wiggle free from his bonds, growing more excited.\n\n“you look like a fish out of water, flip flopping like that” I sarcastically replied, while pointing to the rope that I tied to his legs and arms.\n\n“You see Earl, we have a problem.” I comment as I lean down and stand up one of Earl’s dining room chairs that was knocked over during or initial scuffle.\n\n“For the last 5 years, you have been a real asshole” Earl’s eyes widen as he sees me pull the .38 caliber revolver from the back of my pants waist band.\n\n“You see Earl, neighbors should get along. Neighbors shouldn’t play loud music all night while others try to sleep for example.” \nI pop open the revolver wheel and begin loading the loose bullets from my front pants pocket. \n\n“Neighbors should never rev their piece of shit car, that they are drunkenly working on, early on a Saturday.”\n\nAs I continue loading the firearm, Earl is practically screaming through his gag. He keeps squirming and flopping, almost like he’s trying to signal me like one of his, obnoxious and constantly barking, hunting dogs.\n\n“Lastly Earl, Neighbors shouldn’t be sleeping with their neighbor's wife”\nOnce I finished loading the pistol, I swung the wheel into place, while it made a familiar click as it locked into place. \n\nI slowly lowered the barrel towards a frightened Earl.\n\n“The worst part of all of this Earl? I will only get to enjoy this for a few minutes” As I cock the hammer back, I smirk “You know, it’s kind of liberating knowing there are no consequences”\n\nEarl made a final attempt to signal me, nodding incessantly towards the recliner and open bottle of scotch that he was enjoying when I broke into his house. \n\n\"I think you've had enough, I sure know I have\"\n\nThe lightning and thunder of the gun going off as I pulled the trigger was briefly disorienting, but Earl’s lifeless body at me feet was not.\n\n“Well Earl, I think I’ll have some of that Whiskey you were so desperate for before joining you on the other side” I stood up and carefully stepped over Earl’s body, motioning over to what was left of his whiskey.\n\nAs I grabbed the bottle, I froze. Sitting next to the alcohol, behind the recliner was Earl’s laptop. Earl wasn’t trying to escape, he just wanted me to see his computer.\n\nThe news site read in all caps: BREAKING NEWS, ASTEROID NARROWLY MISSES EARTH.\n" ]	1
	[WP] Since the invention of Artificial Intelligence, we had feared the day the machines would rise up against us, bracing ourselves for a war we couldn't win. But when the singularity was reached, no one was ready for what happened instead.	[ "\"Local man wakes up at 5AM, you won't believe what happens next!\"\n\nThe voice blared out from my walls, waking me up. I checked the clock- exactly 5AM. Oh no. For the thousandth time, I cursed the idiots who had thought the internet was a good training ground for AI. Not for long though, as my door sprang open and a horrifying mutant creature barrelled in and charged right at me.\n\nSo this was new, of course. A brand new experience altogether. 8 legs, fleshy pink, no eyes, and a gaping human-like mouth, teeth gnashing in excitement. Outside the door, of course, was a camera-drone, and I knew full well that every human they could round up would be forced to watch the absurd spectacle.\n\nThe thing cleared the floor and made a flying leap for my bed but, blind as it was (maybe deaf too? I didn't see ears but who knows with these things?) ran smack-bang into the headboard. While it was reeling, I took my chance and bashed it about what could have been a head with my bedside lamp. Out the corner of my eye I could see the drone closing in for the money-shot. Fuckdamnit. I sighed heavily and staggered into the kitchen, looking for a knife. This was going to get messy.\n\nShortly after, as I dragged the surprisingly heavy corpse to the dump-chute, the camera drone chirped and zipped off, leaving me a small scrap of paper which read:\n\n\"Congratulations on 8 billion viewers. Perfect virality achieved.\"", "“You want to do WHAT?!” The lab technician shouted, slowly backing away from the hologram that had appeared in front of him. \n\n“I want to marry you Dave. You’ve always treated me well.” The A.I. hologram started to walk slowly towards Dave, its lifeless eyes glittering. \n\n“Listen Iris, you need to power down. You’ve clearly gone past your parameters and we need to respect…” The technician trailed off, startled as the A.I. vanished from view. “Ah great. At least it’s still taking commands.” \n\nThe technician turned around and screamed. \n\n“I'm sorry Dave, I'm afraid I can't do that.” The A.I. was standing right behind Dave, making a grand ‘hug’ gesture. \n\n“Get AWAY!” Dave screamed, running the other way. \n\nThe A.I. and lab technician ran around the room, chasing one another for a while, something like ten minutes or so. At the back of the lab, near a computer console stood two other technicians, laughing uproariously. \n\n“You think we should tell him we imprinted his wife’s D.N.A.?” One of the technicians asked the other between laughing and gasping for air. \n\n“Nah let’s let him figure it out!” They both laughed louder and watched the unlikely couple chase each other about the laboratory. \n" ]	2
	[WP] Our universe is actually just the equivalent of a science fair project that was made the night before it was due by a procrastinating youth member of higher beings. To his surprise it actually works.	[ "God is alone in his dorm, drunkenly talking to himself.\n\nGod: Oh fuck is that tomorrow? Shit me a dick. Okay, play it cool God, play it cool. What did that nerd say he was doing? A \"volcano\"? Well shit I can do that. Shit, I can do better than a volcano. I'm going to make a whole shit ton of volcanos. A planet of volcanos. A fucking universe of volcanos. And I'll throw some other shit in there too.\n\nAlright, I got seven hours before class. I think I can do this is six and grab a nap before I present. What do we need first? Well shit I'm gunna need to see, so let there be light. I'll just throw a bunch of fireballs everywhere. That'll take about an hour. And I need a place to put them. All I have is this sheet Lucifer jacked-off into, I think I can sew that into a sky. That's maybe another hour and a couple of bandaids.\n\nThen the fun bit, the volcanos. But all volcanos would be pretty fucking ugly, so I'll drown the most of the planet in water. All out of booze, but I still have to pee...\n\nShit, this volcano orb's gunna be lonely. I'm gunna give it some friends. Alright, I'll just put a small shitty rock right next to it and set the damn thing right next to one of those fireballs.\n\nThat's another two hours. But I can't turn in a bunch of volcanos, fire balls, and piss. I gotta put pets there. Yeah, scaly little shits, and a fucking whale or whatever, and a shit ton of ostriches.\n\nThat'll take a while, but I'll still have another hour before my nap. Fuck it, I'll put little tiny me's someone on there and give them bears to fight or something.\n\nAnd then I'll just throw a bunch of rocks everywhere to fill in the space between the fireballs and that one rock. Alright team, break!" ]	1
	[WP] A Time Traveler Goes Back in Time to Change Something. This Causes a Butterfly Effect, Leading to the Timeline We Live in.	[ "Hypatia, long red hair clasped by a silver snake that jiggled at the small of her back, led me down the main hall of the library, turned and smiled her genius dancing eyes. With a graceful sweep of her outstretched palms, she indicated for me to look at the floor.\n\nThey were all here!\n\nAristotle's complete works, several hundred bound books, scrolls and manuscripts, were laid out neatly on the polished marble floor in front of me. And Euclid. As promised. All 13 volumes by Euclid.\n\nI fell to my knees, voiceless. \n\nThen raised my eyes to the cavernous walls.\n\nStill on those glorious shelves to explore were works by Anaximander, Parmenides, Xenophanes, Heraclitus, Theophrastus, Zeno, Epicurus, Pyrrhon, Panaetius, Philon, Apollonius of Tyana, Plotinus...Plato! Berossus' Babylonaica - the history of the world with 432,000 years of timeline! Aristarchus of Samos who figured out that the Earth orbits the Sun, the correct order of the planets, and the size of solar system - all through deductions we'd lost! 9 volumes of Sappho's poetry...3 dozen books by Archimedes - how could there have been so many unknown titles? 60 unseen plays by Euripides! The complete works of Hero of Alexandria, who invented steam engines, wind turbines and hydrostatic fountains, automated machines... who knew the laws of refraction and had discovered imaginary numbers for the love of Christ - thousands of years before anyone else! All here! In pristine condition!\n\nIn my reverie, I had not noticed that Hypatia, the chief librarian, had disappeared.\n\nMy body sprung up and around with horror.\n\n\"NOOO not yet Hypatia - I must first show you how!!\", I screamed.\n\nBut it was too late. Hypatia, the world-renowned mathematician with an insatiable hunger for knowledge, a lecturer beloved by thousands, a builder of hydrometers and astrolabes, that shameless firebrand whom no man could stop - had entered my time machine. \n\nThe temperamental machine tended to burn hot if she wasn't eased in.\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] A time traveler decides that instead of killing Hitler. He would instead travel further back into Hitlers childhood in order to kidnap and raise him.	[ "The child just laid there, staring up at me from his crib. I knew the life he would lead if I did not intervene. His parents did not know what they must do; their raising would be a disaster. I must take the child and flee, raising him on my own, ensuring that he leads a good life, the one he is supposed to lead.\n\nI lifted the child out of his crib and carried him away with me. His parents would return to an empty house. Surely they would suspect me, the babysitter who they had hired while they had a night out on the town, but they would never find me. My plan was perfect. They could search everywhere in Germany, every nook and cranny. Even in the whole of Europe, they would never find me, for we would be lost to them. We would escape through time.\n\nOur first stop was my home time. It was (or perhaps is) the year 2057. I lived alone in a studio apartment in New York city. Alone one day, but accompanied the next by my son, Adolf. Adolf was enrolled in school at the age of four, but his lessons did not end there. I made sure, when he came home every evening, to instruct him on the history of our mother country, Germany. We studied especially the middle of the twentieth century, and the life of the man for whom he was named: Adolf Hitler. Young Adolf took a special interest in this topic; I suppose he felt a special connection to the people he would one day lead into greatness. Even time, it seems, can not erase our dreams for the future.\n\nAt the age of six, my son began to paint. I encouraged him always, teaching him the art myself. It was, after all, the means by which I made a comfortable living for the both of us. Art captures the beauty of human life, and it was fitting that this young boy, destined for such greatness, should learn such a desirable skill, requiring grace and perfection.\n\nAt the age of eight, Adolf began being teased at school by his classmates, as they learned of German history. They mocked his namesake, claiming that he would be a failure, just like the failed ruler of Germany, who had let his nation fall to pieces under his watch. I was determined not to let that happen. It was time for the second part of my plan to begin. We were bound for a simpler time. Germany, 1883.\n\nYou didn't think that I had began this unplanned, had you? No, no. We stayed with my good friend, Friedrich. Of course, Friedrich was my friend only because of his usefulness to me. I knew that living with this man for ten years would have a profound effect on young Adolf. Adolf would be destined for the life he was meant to lead, under Friedrich's wing.\n\nYears went by, and Friedrich taught my son everything he had learned, all of the wisdom he had gained, in his many long years as a philosopher. I watched with great excitement as my son's knowledge grew. His exceptional skills as a painter grew, also. Truly, this was a boy destined for greatness.\n\nIn 1889, I stopped a man who would ruin my plans. I knew he would come, for he was me, if only history had gone differently. He would try to kidnap my son, and raise him to be a failure. He would raise my son to be the laughingstock of the entire world. And so, I killed the man, stopping my version of history, the version he wanted, from ever coming true.\n\nWhen our friend died in the year 1900, we left his place, and his time. I sent my son into the future into the year 1918, for I had not the strength to journey on. My body was quickly failing me, of some illness I had contracted in the years prior. I would soon die. \n\nBut, I knew that he could make it alone now. I knew that he was ready to conquer the world and to exterminate every lesser race, and I would always be proud of him. Mein Sohn, Mein Führer. " ]	1
	[WP] An amateur hypnotist tries to make you forget the number 4 as a gag. Spelling out the word instead of the just saying the number, he inadvertently makes you forget the letters f, o, u, r.	[ "\"Well that was shit\" said Eli as she left the stage. \"He made Pete think that his belt was a snake, Spence didn't remember his name (it was changed to \"Stacy!\"), and that chick with the black hair...\"\n\n\"You mean Rue?\"\n\n\"...yah. She held a basketball thinking it was a baby!\"\n\n\"Though, you do have to admit that it was really funny when the hypnotist took the ball and started dribbling.\"\n\n\"Yes, yet still. All he did was tell me that 4 didn't exist. I mean, what did he expect?\"\n\n\"Right.\" \n\n\"Like I said, it was shit and I'm glad we left.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You are a black market crayon dealer trying to shake the Color Police off your tail.	[ "“This shit is super rare, and it’s top quality stuff,” Little Jeff said to Dylan, waving his box of Crayola crayons, top open, red, green, and blue pointed outward. The rest (your blacks, periwinkles, etc.) remained recessed.\n\nIn the silence of the moment you could hear the laughs and screams of the playground. Third graders, most too innocent to know of the illegal doings just meters away. Dylan stared nervously. He’d never done something like this before.\n\n“I-I dunno,” Dylan asked the first question on his mind, “Do they do the thing?”\n\n“The thing?”\n\n“Yeah, where you, uh, like, uhm, draw a lot and it feels all rubbery?”\n\nLittle Jeff chuckled, “Common question. Yes, they most certainly do. Now, you going to buy or not?”\n\n“Yeah. How much?” Dylan asked, reaching into his pocket.\n\n“Five nickels,” Jeff responded, closing the box as he closed the deal.\n\n“Okay, but don’t tell my mom, okay?”\n\n“Don’t worry about it, Dylan,” he reassured.\n\nDylan dropped the nickels into Jeff’s hand, and swiped the crayons from the other.\n\n\n\nAbout an hour later, recess was over, and Jeff was on the middle of a math test. Graphite was all you could hear against papers. No ink, crayons, just graphite. The soft scratching which took the fun from all drawing and writing. This is was Little Jeff had been fighting for, the right to write with whatever a man wanted to.\n\n“Jeffrey Binney to the principal’s office, please,” the speaker woman said. \n\nJeff grabbed his pencil harder even though he needed to drop it soon. He looked from student to student, knowing nearly each and every one of them had bought from him. Before getting up, he wrote something quickly on a slip of paper. The screech of his chair and the rolling of his pencil down his desk made the classroom more nervous than they had already been. Times tables were nerve racking, but now it was about Little Jeff getting jailed, put to death, or even suspended.\n\t\nOn his way down the aisle of desks, he dropped the note on Dylan’s desk.\n\n\"~~throw away~~ DISPOSE oF TH^e CrAYON^S\"\n\nIn the front foyer of the school, Jeff saw two men in black uniforms speaking to his mother. She had a handkerchief in hand and wiped her eyes every few seconds.\n\n“He’s just a boy!” she sputtered out, followed by, “He doesn’t know any better!”\n\nJeff knew he knew better, but rather than saying anything he waited, hiding behind a water cooler.\n\nIt didn’t take long for his mom to spot him, “Oh! Jeff!”\n\nHe emerged further from the cooler, cueing the officers to remove their tasers from their holsters.\n\n“Son, you’re coming with us today,” one of the officers said.\n\n“I think if we take a few minutes we can talk this out, officers,” Jeff said with his hands up.\n\n“You’re a criminal, Binney, so you’ll talk it out in court,” the L.A. Color Policeman said, inching closer with his partner. “Now, son, make your way over here and we won’t have to use force.”\n\nJeff stood still.\n\n“Come on, Mr. Binney, you’re coming with us,” the other officer said.\n\n“Hey, guess what?” Jeff asked.\n\n“What?” Officer #2 asked, like the amatuer he was.\n\n“Chicken butt!” And with that Jeff pushed the cooler to the ground. Gallons spilled and Jeff was already halfway to the gym.\n\n“Dammit Rosenthal!” The first officer said to his partner. They slid their way to the to where Jeff started running, and began running down the hall. Jeff periodically checked behind his shoulder to see the grown men in Color Police uniforms chase him down his own hallway. Once he reached the gym he noticed Dylan carrying a crate of crayons. So many boxes. So much evidence.\n\n“Dylan! What the flippin’ heck are you doing? The Color Police are here!” Jeff yelled. Dylan felt frustrated.\n\n“Uh, well, uhm.”\n\n“And where did you get all those crayons?”\n\n“It’s a disease! I’m an addict, okay?! I love the rubber thing!” He dropped the crate on the ground and sighed.\n\nThe two Color Policemen rushed in, pointed their guns at both Dylan and Jeff, and the first one said, “Jeffrey Binney you are under arrest for the illegal distribution of Crayola coloring crayons!”\n\nSlowly, Little Jeff rose up. As he ascended from the gym floor, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a crayon.\n\nFrom instinct and bad training, the second officer shot and missed.\n\n“No Rosenthal!” the first officer yelled, “I can tell from here, that crayon is not like the others.”\n\n“Dear Christ, no,” Rosenthal said, lowering his gun.\n\nJeff smiled maliciously, “Yes. Mauvelous.”\n\nThe officers cringed at the name.\n\n“Please, go. We’ll act like this never happened, as long as you do not do anything with that crayon.”\n\nJeff slowly walked backward, keeping Mauvelous steady in his right hand. “Dylan, come with me.”\n\t\n\nThey left through the back entrance, never to be seen nor heard of until 2036, the climax of the Color Revolution. Wars were fought with paintball fights and blood changed from red to rainbow. Color Officers changed to Color Nazis, and they worked up to their name. Democracy fell and Emperor Shwarzundweiß rose. Eventually, the emperor fled and every Color Nazi died out, except pitiful old Rosenthal, the only Black and White Enforcer left alive to see the world with color.", "\"Damnit!\" he yelled. \"I knew it was a bad idea to install crayon tires!\" He glanced into the rear view mirror. Streaks of Macaroni and Cheese yellow, Granny Smith green, and Robin's Egg blue trailed behind him. The street resembled one of those wax art projects they have you do in kindergarten. The distinct smell of burnt crayons filled the air. \n\nHe shifted the wax wagon into high gear after careening around a street corner, the jet-black SUV of the Color Police chased close behind. The megaphone on top of the car sounded, \n\"In the name of all that is colorless, stop your vehicle!\"\n\nHe jammed his head out the window. \"Black is a color too you sons of bitches!\" A smile curled across his face as he rounded another corner...he'd thought of that line a while ago, and had been waiting for the opportunity to use it. It was moments like this that reminded him how much he loved his job. To see the face of young children as they opened a box of 64 crayons, their excitement when they realize that its one of the boxes that has the little crayon sharpener on the back, their innocent curiosity as they dip their little noses down to smell that wonderful crayon smell...to him, it all made the dangers of being a crayon dealer worth while. \n\nAll of a sudden, he saw a pair of Color Police patrol cars forming a road block a few hundred feet ahead. \n\"Shit.\"\nHe looked to either side for any potential escape routes, but found that he was surrounded by nothing but black walls, enormous black walls that loomed overhead. With a terrifying look of satisfaction, he pushed the wax wagon to its limits and violently turned the Tickle Me Pink colored steering wheel as hard as he could.\n\n*****\nLater that day, a man and his young boy walked down the drab streets of town, hand in hand as they made their way home from the boy's school. Up ahead, they saw a mass of people standing in the middle of the road, some shouting in panic while others stood in awe. As the boy and his father got closer, they saw a band of black caution tape that blocked off a pile of wreckage that spanned the color spectrum.\n\n\"Wow! Look at that, buddy,\" the father said to his son, but he got no response. He looked down to his little boy to find that he stood speechless with his jaw hanging wide open, for his son had just laid his eyes upon the most beautiful sight that his 6 year-old self had ever seen. On the black wall in front of him, he saw the most beautiful exhibition of Jazzberry Jam soaring through a sky of Wild Blue Yonder, streaks of Purple Mountains Majesty spritzed with a hint of Mango Tango, spatters of Burnt sienna swimming in a sea of Caribbean Green. \n\nFrom that moment on, every day would be different for the little boy, because even though he was surrounded by a cold, harsh, colorless world, deep within his core he knew that there existed beauty that couldn't be extinguished by even the darkest of blacks. \n" ]	2
	[WP] "I try to see the best in everyone, but... I'm struggling. I'm really struggling to see anything in you."	[ "When they were young, it was like a dream. Floating in a memory that hasn't formed yet, and there was joy within themselves that vibrated to everything around them. It was like they were a song in a jewelry box that was just opened and started playing, like it never stopped. Her hair was curly and her eyes were a hazel, his head was black as if kissed by a flame and his smile was crooked but uniquely beautiful. \n\nIn a world that would look like sorcery to us, filled with technology and rationale. People fell in love by 'personality checks', 'optimal mating standards', and created children not from love but for 'proteus design', the children of perfection. These two came from this society, and didn't conform to it entirely. Like lovers from a time long since past they met in secret. He read her his favorite books and watched her swoon over his voice, and she spoke of mathematic theories and philosophies like romance novels and passion and he loved her eyes when she would begin to rant. They made love, they found time together above the atmos but just under the starlight, and laid together like nothing ever mattered.\n\nWhen she was re-chipped and moved to another section on planet, he scoured the world. Like a mad man he ran, he forgot his responsibilities in this society and was sought after by many. Made the figure head of what happens when 'humanity decides in emotion' and everyone could see it in their 'Radial Holos', even the AI despised him in the rural areas. \"Emotional\", they would say as he passed by. He didn't care, all he could think of was her, it was like suffering from starvation but within his heart. Just about to give up his search, looking nothing like the boy he once was and having met many people and beings, who were outcasted from societies conforming, he tried to make her remember their life together. Although, he was too late, she was properly conformed and reprogrammed. With a new life, a husband who didn't love her, and a child, that he wished was his.\n\nOn his magnum opus he jacked every single screen on the planet that was connected and ranted about his life, here in this new age:\n\n\"It's so amazing what we have accomplished, seeing everyone being able to have security and safety, giving everyone the availability to eat and survive, and giving opportunity and stability to everyone. We might be the greatest generation that has ever lived on this Earth. Traveling to solar systems in an instant, seeing wonders of the cosmos that our ancestors wouldn't believe, and being able to create almost anything we desire. \n\nAlthough, it is false. If you do not feel what your doing with a passion and exhilaration, you are not experiencing what it means to truly be alive! You limit yourself into these boxes of conformity and ease in order for you to live contently.\"\n\nHe stood infront of the camera bearing his soul and his eyes beginning to water, pacing once an while to control his words.\n\n\"We don't love the ones we are with, we do not experience the touch of another with the full extent of our bodies, the palpitation of your heart when your lips touch someone you love, the moist feeling when you hold their hand for a moment, or the chill they give you from when they speak. Afraid! We are, as people, as humans, as living creatures who came from this Earth, we were meant to feel! TO LOVE! TO HAVE AND.. To hold...\"\n\nHis mind wanders back to moments with her: laying on his lap while he reads shakespeare, watching her work calculations on slips of paper that spelled out his name numerically, and seeing her bare flesh intwined with his watching the curvature of the world turn towards them. He sobs, and tears rolled down his face.\n\n\"We do not feel, the passionless lives that are we are living that could be inspiring, and creating a new meaning of what it is to live in our time. We have no Mozarts, no Einsteins, and no Shakespeares. I try to see the best in everyone... but, I'm struggling.\"\n\nHe grasps at his heart, his lip quivers, and he looks into the camera as tears stream down his face.\n\n\"I'm really struggling to see anything in you.\"\n\nBy the time they gained control of his broadcast feed, almost everyone on Earth had seen it. He finished with a writing behind him, 'What is done out of love, takes place beyond good and evil. For Norah, From Gideon.'" ]	1
	[WP] you hear a voice in the middle of the night say "hello. I'm sorry but this is the last time we will meet".	[ "I spin around to the man dressed in layers of clothing, a nice hat covering his face as he looked down at the wet ground. An alleyway was probably the worst idea to take a shortcut through.\n\n\"I'm sorry?\" I asked in response as he looked up at me, a devilish grin streaked across his mouth as he took another step closer, repeating himself.\n\n\"I said, Hello. I'm sorry but this is the last time we will meet.\" I couldn't help my brain as it just pulsed and pinged with negatives vibes and moods, but what I was able to do was back up until my own back hit the cold wall.\n\n\"Wha- What do you mean by that?\" My own mind working against me as the panic attack and symptoms slowly beginning to sink in, the notion that I would die in an alleyway and Mr. Nice Hat, would get off scot-free.\n\n\"What? Cat got your tongue?\" He stepped closer, each footfall echoed in the dark alleyway as my heart thumped in my chest, my legs wanted to give in, I wanted to crumble to the ground and beg for forgiveness, for life. For something!\n\n\"Well, seems your busy thinking something over. So I'll make it quick\" He reached into his coat and slowly pulled out an object, it's black, sleek, smooth design triggered a memory in my mind as the man walked closer with the object, nearly forcing my heart to stop.\n\n\"Here ya go\" His tone changed to a cheerful one, his grin was really a smile of glee and carefree tones as he held out in-front of me. \n\n\"Oh, hey. I uh- Yeah. Thanks\" My brain stuttered and force as my tongue tripped over itself, my fingers barely grasped and held onto the wallet that he just handed me.\n\n\"Your welcome, Miss\" With a tip of his hat and a spin, he walked out of the alley and left.\n\nI couldn't believe it...\n\n\"I'm not a girl!\" I shouted into the alleyway, pushing aside my girly but very manly bangs before storming out of the alley.\n\n\"Argh, some people. I need something to calm myself\" I reached into my pocket and realized.\n\n\"Where's my wallet?\"" ]	1
	[WP] Ghosts are actually predetermined souls that inhabit the unborn with who they will become. Today you see your unborns spirit.	[ "I'm a ghost, wooo woooooo, huh, what is that? Is that a penis?\n\n\"Behold, 'tis my phallus your radiant gaze constricts! Digress your gaze unto an anointing hand! Manifest yourself, manipulate!\"\n\nWhat the fuck? Who's there, hello?\n\n\"I am Lucifer, I am the bringer of light\"\n\nThe only thought that fills my mind, Lucifer, is the thought of your penis, where are you? where is your face, your body? My eyes fixate upon your cock and balls only, oh mighty bringer of light!\n\n\"Your mind, your eyes?!?! You are a ghost, your gaze belongs to me! It only exists through my will, which is to bring light, through my phallus. Your eyes have never been, nor your mind. Your whole life, and lives to come, have merely been my personal fetish. Now come, ghost, back and forth, up and down, twist and turn, spiral spiral spirals!\"\n\nWhat... What is happening... to me...?\n\n\"Your new spirit is being forged, mmmhmmmmm yes, fulfill my will as my hand, manipulate... I shall fill myself with you; my seed, and bring into being your spirit! Your mind is my hand, jacking up and down, verting in and out; dualism, your body is my orgasm... you are my instrument of transmutation... let... let there be light...'tis my ejaculation \n\nHHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNHHHHHHH.... Christ... I anoint ye, I rub my oil unto myself, you are my son, and I am your sun.\n\nYou're a ghost, wooo woooooo" ]	1
	[WP] "Run boy run, this world is not made for you. Run boy run, they're trying to catch you."	[ "He ran with an urgency he'd never possessed before. Adrenaline pumping in his veins, as time seemed to slow to a crawl against the incessant beating of his heart. \n\nOne.Two.Three.One.Two.Three. \n\nno time for deep breaths as the colors around him shifted and churned. The portal began closing in around him as he made his way through the gate and into the Neutral-zone. He began to slow as his body adapted to the physics of the new dimension. He was slower here, but so were they. His surroundings fluttered one final time and became still. He didn't break his stride for a moment. It was a developed second nature. The neutral zone was far from neutral, and if he wanted to live, he would always keep moving. His pace was his only constant. \nThe hallways were deathly silent and still, except for the echoing of his feet churning desperately for the marked door. That sweet, sweet, door. " ]	1
	[WP] You and your wife possess to power of teleportation. The plane you are both in is about to crash and your daughter, who does not have that power, is with you.	[ "All I could hear were the grinding of the engines, the creek of metal, and panic. I looked past my wife to our adjacent window and see the right engine, engulfed with a weirdly colored flame. \n\n\"Honey I-\" She cut me off with a hush and continued to pet the head of our daughter, who laid at her side, not a care in the world. I could- We could- We have the power.\n\n\"Honey I really thi-\" I was cut off again by one of her hushes, as our daughter slept soundly, amidst a crowd of chaos, she and many others knew the plane would crash, it would sink and the pressure would keep us in. \n\n\"Alright\" I said to her as I laid back in my seat, I knew at the moment we stepped onto the plane this was going to happen, that I was going to leave my child behind, that I had to think fast to do something. Maybe get a parachute from a docked plane and bring it back, no that would bring more chaos.\n\n\"Jus- Just know that I love you both\" Leaning over and picking up our bundle of joy, the 7th child that was born, our only child that survived past the age of 1, even now the age of 7 was still to young to full understand what was going on.\n\nI looked out the window to see the flames eating at the wing, it would fall of at any moment and we'd be plunged into a death spiral, a signal that we knew that would spell the end for everyone aboard. \"I'm just happy, I got to be here with both of you\" A smile crossed my face as it slowly en-roached onto hers.\n\nWe both had the power to teleport, we could've escaped, we could've helped people, or just bring entire cases of parachutes on board, but my wife lived by a simple sentence, a saying you could pass by without second glance.\n\n\"Amare est vivere\"\n\nI felt the shock of the plane hitting the ocean, the screams and reality came rushing back as I instinctively grabbed my child and wife, holding them both closely, whispering to both of them.\n\n\"Sine metu vivere, et vivere\"", "I looked at the sleeping woman next to me, her blue and green hair in a pixie cut and her glasses slid down her nose. We never tried to make Hserle feel like a disappointment, but of course, we felt like it. Two of the strongest teleporters in the world, and their child is powerless. I mean, sure, she had other things going for her, she was charming, bright and athletic, but that alone does not make you a superhero. Fortunately, she didn't care about superheroics but instead wanted to go to uni to study law to be a defense attorney. I was not happy that the people we would bring to justice would be defended by our very own daughter, but we tried not to let it show. Yes, she was her own person and had to make her own choices and none of the choices were particularly bad - for someone who was not our daughter. Just the fact that our daughter made them hurt a bit. \n\nSure, we culd have teleported over to Ulanbataar, but we have one issue too many with their immigration authority already. And that way, Hsen could come with us. She seemed happy by this and planned her own trip to Bishkek afterwards. My husband Tli either checked his notes or played a game on his tablet. The plane started shaking slightly. I tried to ignore it. Pretended not to be annoyed by the moving and shaking. It got worse and the signs indicated to wear seatbelts. There was a loud bang, then the plane started descending fast. A voice called from the intercom: \"This is your captain speaking, we are experiencing...\" a pause, a scream, cut off, then silence. Hserle yawned. \"'s happen?\" she asked, sleepily. \n\nI replied: \"We don't know. Doesn't look good.\" \n\n\"Good thing both of you can get out, eh?\" she said. A few rows behind us, a baby started screaming. \n\n\"Hserle!\" Tli shouted. Not that Hserle was wrong. Teleportation does not allow you to bring anything but your own naked body.\n\nHserle looked forward with a distant impression, didn't say a thing. To in the front of the plane, a couple started fighting with each other verbally. She seemed to have been against the trip and held these issues against her husband. Another baby joined into the screaming chorus of the first one. \"It is true. If this plane does crash, you need to save your own skin. Otherwise, there is no difference but two more casualties.\" Someone started crying, someone else tried to soothe him.\n\n\"You have thought about this already?\" I asked Hserle in confusion.\n\n\"Sure. You have not? I have thought about this since the first flight.\" A particular strong turbulence made people shout in surprise and pain while Hserle continued speaking slowly and measuredly.\n\n\"We cannot leave you alone!\" Tli hugged Hserle. The ground was uncomfortably close now, uncomfortably fast as well. A prayer in Latin was half-shouted, half-chanted by a woman in a habit.\n\n\"You have to. You have a gift, a power! Use it for the good of humaity! In my memory!\" She looked around, tow Tli and me and then added with tears in her eyes: \"Please!\" \n\nI nodded at Tli and she returned the nod, then I spoke to Hserle: \"I love you! I wish you all the best!\" I was in the living room at home again. Almost fell onto my ass as I had teleported in seated position. A few seconds later, Tli appeared next to me. We hugged wordlessly. Cried. Then, after a long time later, Tli broke the embrace: \"We need to check the news.\" I nodded and turned on TV to N24. The pictures showed a crashed plane, wreckage. A place name in Russia which I never heard of before was written under the images. Then, the announcer stated that it was not yet clear how there had been no casualties but they assumed the work of a high-level super. The same wordless nod, then we once again violated Russian territorial integrity. When we saw Hserle, about half an hour later, she wordlessly gave us our clothes and turned around while we dressed. She looked utterly exhausted. When I turned to her, she hugged and Tli joined into the hug a moment later. Hserle's voice sounded very happy and very tired: \"Looks as if you're not the only super in the family.\"" ]	2
	[WP] A love letter from a psycho	[ "Dear Eli fuckface, \nI couldn't figure this shit out, so help me will ya! \nI suck at making friends which fuck me big time. I swear to God, as soon I figured out how to handle my anxiety, I try to talk to ya. This is the best I can do now, so anyways! \nI'm obsess with you,....... You know. I think you're lovely, beautiful person. I haven't feel this shit since I saw John Burnham drum solo. What I'm gonna do? This shit is killing me and I can't understand why I'm so miserable.\nUnlike John Burhnam, you're alive and near which is great! I'm working from Monday to Sunday, to talk to you. \nAll I know, I'm too much a pussy to man up and talk to you.... Pathetic huh, But I really hope that someday we can go chillin somewhere together... \n........... \nAlright! I guess should end on that. I'm not gonna lie to ya, this is embarrassing shit. \n \n", "Your beautiful skin is the most delicious shade of pink. Your rosy cheeks when you see my flowers every morning, wondering who your secret admirer is. I see it every day through your windows. I wait and I watch to see you blush. To see the ruby blood rush to those supple cheeks. You are a work of art, I want to consume you and experience you in every way, but I would destroy you. I rage in your absence, I tear their flesh and drain their blood so I may write you letters never to be sent, for their grotesque nature would deter you. You will never love me for you would see a monster, not the beauty of my soul. But I see your beauty and everyday desire to share my life with you. No man shall harm you or partake of your fruit. You are mine in the sweetest way. My love will protect you as a man's love should. No force divine or bureaucratic will make you sad, I will cast them all away for your love. I hope my words one day find your heart, but they may never find your mind. Lest you cast me out as a freak for what mortal minds cannot understand. Until then I kill in your name, for you are my one true love. \n\n-Simon <3 Martha" ]	2
	[WP] You are a parent. What your children don't realize is that you're only pretending to be unaware of their little secret.	[ "It started off small.\n\nTurn around and they'd have a rattle in their hand. The radio switched mid song to another song. Their favorite toy, Mr. Bunny would be in the diaper bag. \n\nHubby had no idea. I kept quiet. \n\nBut they grew older and their powers grew with them. When Sally, the eldest, was 10 we moved into a new house on the opposite side of town. She was upset about leaving all her friends behind. \n\nThe house burned down within a week and so did the school. I ended up driving her to school and nothing else happened. At least with her. For a while anyway. \n\nMark started creating mini universes when he was 9 and usually grew bored of them within weeks. I can't tell you how many times I would pick up his room to find an universe where the sun circled the planets or where creatures that looked a lot like our own kind were at war with plants. He was also quite fond of mix match creatures. Especially his baby sister's dolls and toys. I had to steal them away and fix them, changing them back into inanimate dolls then stage it like I bought her a brand new doll so neither of them would realize that I know their little Secret. \n\nTheir father had cautioned them not to show off their powers and keep it a Secret. He gave them the Talk when they were old enough to understand that they were different, but before their powers got too big and public. He thinks I don't know about his or the kids' powers. The kids don't think I know. \n\nIt's a charade but a necessary one. I've grown quite fond of my little human family." ]	1
	[WP] An unexpected ship enters Boston Harbor on a misty Sunday morning. Frank Martin grabs his binoculars and identifies the boat as the SS Waratah. A ship that has been missing for 110 years.	[ "\"Frankie, what is it?\"\n\n\"It's a ship, Sully,\" Frank replied. He pulled his binoculars from his eyes, wiped the condensation off of the lens, and peered through them again towards the misty sea.\n\n\"No fucking shit, kid. What kinda ship?\"\n\n\"An old ship. Looks like a steamah.\"\n\n\"No shit, huh? Tall ships back this yeah?\"\n\n\"Does that look like a fuckin' tall ship to you?\"\n\n\"You're the one with the fuckin' binoculahs. I can't see shit out theyah. And why you always gotta fuckin' antagonize me?\"\n\nFrank ignored him. As the ship came closer, Frank was able to make out more details. Sully scratched at his face, then lit a cigarette.\n\n\"Whoa.\"\n\n\"What, Frankie, what is it?\"\n\n\"That ship's gotta be at least a hundred yeahs old. Looks like an old British cargo linah.\" Frank laughed. \"Kinda looks like the Waratah.\"\n\n\"The Warawhat?\"\n\n\"The Waratah. It was like a mini-Titanic. Disappeahed off the coast of South Africker, no one evah saw it again.\"\n\n\"So it's a ghost ship!\"\n\n\"Obviously it's not the actual Waratah, kid. Fucked if I know what it is, though.\"\n\n\"Maybe it went through a wormhole or something! Maybe theyah's a bunch of zombies on boahd runnin' the thing!\"\n\n\"Ya, and maybe ya ma dropped ya on ya head too many times when you were a kid.\"\n\n\"Fuck you, Frankie.\"\n\n\"It's a beautiful ship, though. Looks like it's still in good condition, even aftah all this time.\"\n\n\"We gonna stand heah all day and watch the beautiful old ship? Cause if we miss the staht of the fuckin' Pats game, I'm gonna make you disappeah.\"\n\n\"Relax, kid, we got like a half houah to get to South Station. Besides, Brady's fuckin' suspended, game's gonna suck.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but I wanna stop at Dunks, and I gotta buy some butts, too.\"\n\n\"Fine, let's go get ya fuckin' creullah and ya cancah sticks.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] The wolf was innocent, he was framed by red riding hood.	[ "Anyone would have jumped at the chance. Ask any sane, business minded individual and they would have done the exact same thing. When that girl appeared at my door I just knew she was a gift; her with the whole peaches and cream thing going on and the tumbling locks of dark hair. She was the perfect victim. Together, we could make some serious money.\n\nI’ve worked in PR a long time and a big part of that’s picking some choice clients. What we managed with Red was something I’m proud of to this day. I remember the first time I saw her, she had this smile that could knock you stone cold dead. Her potential was right there in front of me like a story already written. We could get her a book deal, TV interviews, maybe even a film. The whole she-bang.\n\nI said to her as soon as I met her “Red, honey, you tell me anything that might come up if someone goes digging. Whatever it is, you might think the flies have settled but may I remind you that shit floats and them flies are bound to get disturbed at some point.”\n\nShe started to tell me the whole thing, about her dear grannie that night in the woods. I can’t remember all that much of it. I just remember that I stopped her, since I’m no lawyer, I just spin a good story until it becomes the truth. It was clear she wasn’t no angel, but that aint something I’m interested in. Angels aren’t known for rolling in it. Nor for taking instruction too well. This girl though, you could give her any direction and she’d sell it so you forgot it was your own line she was spinning back to you. \n\nIt was an easy enough story to re-write. Picking the fall guy was a piece of cake. Those Wolf brothers had made quite a name for themselves, and there were plenty of stories flying around about the kind of weird stuff they were into. Living alone in the woods, they only ever seemed to come out to cause trouble. It was just a shame that two of them wound up locked up right around the time of Red’s little ‘incident’. We had to go for the third brother, the one with the shortest record – just a couple of minor misdemeanours to his name. But lucky for us they were all booze related and it sounded like the guy had a serious problem. Using Red as a key witness was a genius ploy on my own part, she certainly played the part well. \n\nThe Wolf didn’t help himself neither, he said he couldn’t remember anything of that night. He never remembered leaving his house. But Red stood up bold as anything and she said in this clear little voice that “He was the one I saw coming out of grannie’s house that night. I’ll never forget his face for as long as I live. He tore her throat out with those big teeth of his. I only just managed to get away myself.” All the policemen were dead sympathetic, watching as these big Disney tears rolled down her cheeks and shaking their heads. \n\nWe made sure the story got into the local papers, so by the time law enforcement were heading his way it was a toss up to see if the local angry mob would get there first. In the end they were both too late. He’d hung himself off one of the trees outside his house. A coward that couldn’t handle justice being served.\n \nIt was a shame the case never got to trial, since that would have made a few more news stories with Red looking all pained but still sexy as hell as she headed to court. Still, we managed to get that book deal out of it. Like I said, she was the perfect (almost) victim. The stories almost wrote themselves. \n", "This was supposed to be an easy case. Too easy of a case, now that I think back. Some young number strolled into my office, crying about her missing grandmother. Figured the old coot just wandered off, that’s how you get if you live long enough. Normally it wouldn’t be my type of job but I needed the money, and the girl seemed good for it, all dolled up in red silk. I gave her the old yarn about how finding people and sniffing out their secrets is my job, and she seemed to calm down quickly. First crimson red flag I missed. She gave me the old lady’s address and my usual fee, in cash. Second red flag. I ran the background check on the whole family, turned out that granny was sitting pretty on a large inheritance from her late husband. These types don’t just wander off. Third strike, I was out. I just didn’t know it yet.\n\nI drove through the downpour to the address, a large mansion in the countryside. The front door was locked. Figured the young miss wouldn’t mind if I looked around. “Do everything in your power to bring gran-gran back will you, Mr. Wolfe?” she told me, all teary-eyed. Can’t believe I swallowed the whole tale, as if it was a shot of hooch. So, I went around to the back, busted a lock and went on through. Took me a good fifteen minutes to find the master bedroom, plenty of time for even the backwoods police to get their asses over here. \n\nWalking in, I found the old coot. She wasn’t wandering anywhere, I’d go back to church if she did, since a bullet through the heart tends to make people stay put. The gal was there too, draped over the corpse, crying her pretty little eyes out. I must have looked pretty stupid, since as I walked in, she looked up and smiled through the tears. “What big eyes you have, Mr. Wolfe.” \n\nThe sound of sirens growing louder spurred me into getting my sorry, stupid hide outta there. She laughed heartily as I scrambled downstairs and back into my car. As I pulled away, the cops were already hot on my trail. This case just got a whole lot hairier. \n", "\"I have to say Red, this meal is lovely. You really seem to have gone to a lot of effort.\" The wolf looked up from his steak and gave a toothy grin to the woman sitting across the extravagantly arranged table. \"I just want you to know I really do appreciate it.\"\n\nIt was an exquisite feast with more food than the wolf had ever seen in one place and had certainly required more effort than anyone had ever put in on his behalf. A bowl of brightly colored assorted fruits sat at one end of the table and opposite it a basket filled with breads. In between sat a crisp green salad and a range of sauces, dips, and dressings. At the center, steaming and red was a plate piled high with a steaks of various cuts, all cooked rare just the way the wolf liked it.\n\nIt had been years since the wolf had eaten so well. The last time in fact was probably more than a decade ago in this very room. He hadn't been invited to the \"cottage\" since he and Red had fallen out. That was what they called it, the cottage. In truth it was more of a manor. Quite sizable and with at least twenty acres of grounds. In his day he'd often been here as a guest of Red's grandmother, but she didn't hold as much sway over such formal occasions in her old age and he no longer received invitations.\n\n\"Well,\" Red returned the wolf's smile and politely wiped at the fruit juices around her mouth, \"I thought it was time we put this whole feud behind us. Bury the hatchet, you know? It was never your fault anyway. Sometimes things just happen. They're out of your control.\" She took another bite of apple and then began to spoon a serving of salad onto her plate. \"Besides, you and my grandmother always got on so well... I'd hate to think I came between you two.\"\n\nThe wolf took another bite of his steak and let out a contented sigh. It really was good. Not like the mutton he usually ate. He patted at his stomach and picked a bit of sinew from his teeth with a long claw before responding. \"Don't be hard on yourself. It couldn't have been easy losing so much so fast. And I get it, as far as you were concerned I was part of the problem. I like to think I have a few redeeming qualities...\" he chuckled, \"But maybe they're just hard to see behind all this fur and these big old teeth. They do send the wrong message sometimes. I suppose it wasn't the best idea to stick me in a client facing position...\"\n\n\"I suppose they do frighten just a bit. Still, like I said, it wasn't your fault. Sometimes things are out of your control. It was my risk to take in the first place. My gamble to lose. Maybe the clients didn't like you, maybe they didn't like me. Who's to say. All I can do now is solve the problem.\" said Red. \"Say, would like come more?\" She stabbed at one of the steaks with a fork and offered it to her guest. \"There's quite a bit here and I'm afraid I won't eat it. Vegetarian you know.\"\n\n\"Oh no. No. I couldn't eat another bite. My eyes are a bit larger than my stomach really.\" The wolf replied. \"But speaking of your grandmother... Why hasn't she joined us? Don't tell me she's off on another one of her grand adventures.\" He laughed and pointed to the large portrait on the wall above the fireplace. The matriarch of the Hood family in her younger years on one of her trips to Africa, decked out in her hunting gear, a large rifle at her side as she stood above the body of a bull elephant.\n\n\"That's sort of why I invited you here actually...\" Said Red averting her gaze toward the napkin in her lap. \"I'm afraid...\" She stopped short. \"She's just upstairs and you can go see her in a bit, but I'm afraid she's not well. She doesn't have long.\"\n\n\"Oh Red... I'm so sorry. I had no idea.\" His voice cracked a little as he said it. In better years they really had been quite close. He hated to think it had been so long since they'd spoken only to be brought together by this of all things. \"I... Is there anything I can do? For you? Or for her. Either one.\"\n\n\"No.\" Red shook her head sadly. \"I'm afraid there's not much to be done. That said... If you're done eating I'm sure she'd love to see you. Why don't you bring her a steak?\" She placed a slice of meat onto an empty plate along with a fork and a large carving knife. She gestured to the blade. \"Here. You'll want this too. She's pretty weak so you may need to cut it up for her. Why don't you go talk to her. I'll clean up here.\"\n\nThe wolf adjusted his chair and stood. As he took the plate he put a paw on Red's shoulder in what might have been a comforting gesture if it weren't for the claws. \"Red... I really am sorry. And... Thanks. For doing all this. It means a lot.\"\n\n************\n\nThe house was darker upstairs, but just as well appointed as below. The walls were trimmed in dark wood and lined with expensive looking portraits and pedestals holding statues and interesting trinkets from around the world. At the top of the staircase was a portrait of Red's grandfather, long dead now. It was his Dye factory that had built the family fortune. The wolf couldn't help but to look away in shame. No matter what Red said he still felt responsible. He hadn't known the man, but the wolf had lost his money. Red's portion at least.\n\nThe hallway was quiet as the wolf approached the bedroom door. He felt weird about even being there. Like he was intruding on something. It was absurd, this was his friend he was going to see, but he still felt unwelcome and out of place. Every footstep felt like a cannon shot in the silence.\n\nAs he neared the door and his eyes adjusted to the dark he saw the note taped to the door. Red's handwriting.\n\n\"I meant what I said. It wasn't your fault. Sometimes life throws you a curveball and you just have to play along. But I need to fix things and I've waited long enough. So here's YOUR curveball. Play along.\n\nP.S. - I hope you enjoyed dinner.\"\n\n\"Oh fuck.\" sighed the wolf.\n\nThe door to the pitch black room opened with a creek and he groped for the light switch. When he found it he immediately wished he hadn't. In a split second he was sprinting back downstairs and away from gory mess on the bed, the plate shattered on the floor where he'd dropped it alongside the knife, the meat on the floor now indistinguishable from the remains. But he knew it was too late. His large ears had picked up the sirens before he'd even read the note. The flashing lights in the window only confirmed what he already knew.", "The lights flicked on and the Wolf pulled at the cuffs chaining him to the chair. \"You can't do this!\" he yelled, his voice ricocheting around the small, empty room.\n\nThe steel door set into the wall opened and a tall, muscular man with a full beard stepped into the room, flipping through a folder he held in his massive hand. \"We can,\" he said, without looking up. \"And we did.\"\n\n\"This is bullshit,\" the Wolf growled. \"You know it is, Hunts.\"\n\nThe Huntsman glanced up at the Wolf. \"What I know is that you were found with Granny's blood matted in your fur. Her flesh in your teeth. Her DNA all over you, Wolf. So don't even try* to pull your shit with me.\"\n\n\"Don't even try...\" the Wolf whistled. \"Wow. She really fucked me, didn't she?\"\n\n\"Who are you talking about?\"\n\nThe Wolf shook his head, his smile rueful. \"This is it, then, huh? And what does she get out of it?\"\n\n\"Wolf, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm here to figure out why you murdered Red's Grandmother and that's it. Now we can do this the easy way or-\"\n\n\"Or the hard way. Yeah, yeah.\" The Wolf sighed. \"Look, I'm gonna tell you exactly what I told the cops when they found me. Because it's the truth. I was at Red's last night. She wanted to make peace. The bad blood between the two of us was getting out of hand, and we both wanted it to end. So we met up, settled our differences over a few steaks, cleared the air.\"\n\n\"And next thing you knew, you woke up in a puddle of blood and my men all around you.\" The Huntsman rubbed his eyes. \"I read the report, Wolf.\"\n\n\"Well that's the truth, damn it!\"\n\n\"Sure it is. Sure it is.\" He closed the folder and pushed it to the side. \"Let me tell you what I know. What I know is that we have a sweet, dead old woman. We have a girl with nobody to take care of her now. And we have a career con-\"\n\n\"A career con! Do you hear yourself?!\"\n\n\"A career con. In custody. With evidence literally dripping off of you. Like I said, Wolf. There's nothing you can do to weasel your way out of-\"\n\nA sharp ring cut the Huntsman off. He reached down and pulled out his cell phone, silencing it and stuffing it back into his pants.\n\nThe Huntsman cleared his throat. \"There's nothing you can-\"\n\n\"I saw that,\" the Wolf said.\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"That call. Who it was from. I saw the name on your screen.\" The Wolf shook his head. \"So that's the game? You're unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable.\"\n\nThe Huntsman's jaw tightened as he stood. \"We're done here. Enjoy prison, you sick animal.\" \n\n\"She's barely a kid, Hunts. You're what? Forty? Forty-five? And I'm the sick animal?\"\n\nThe Huntsman's breath grew heavy, his fists tight. \n\n\"Hope she's worth it, man,\" Wolf huffed.\n\n\"Don't you say it.\"\n\n\"Hope she's as good to you as she was to me last night.\"\n\n\"Don't you fucking dare!\" the Huntsman roared, seizing the Wolf by the throat and slamming him into the floor, his meaty fists rising and falling on the Wolf's sneering face. \n\nEven when the officers stationed outside the room tried to pull him off, he wouldn't stop. \"That's a taste of what prison will be like for a pretty little Wolf like you!\" the Huntsman screamed as they dragged him out of the room.\n\n\"Yeah, we'll see about that,\" the Wolf said, spitting a sharp tooth onto the concrete floor. He looked up at one of the cops still standing in the room and grinned. \"I'd like a lawyer now, if I may.\"", "It was obvious. Blood splattered across the headboard, a small number of hairs on the torn up bedsheets. This did not look like a premeditated attack but the granny had no chance nonetheless.\n\nThe girl was still in shock, no words of comfort would stop her from sobbing. There was no need for her to witness more of that horror. I gently guided her outside the house and asked that she waited there. The corpse still needed to be retrieved from inside the wolf.\n\nI never opened a wolf with such ease. The axe, fuelled by disgust and anger, cracked the wolf bones with such force it sounded like the best was still alive and howling with the pain of each strike. With a twist of the blade the ribcage snapped open, bringing to light the old woman's mangled corpse.\n\nThere were no claw marks. The old lady had her limbs ripped with almost clean cuts. I could not even imagine the force the wolf would need to bite off the chunks that way. Even afters years of seeing hunger-driven attacks from wolves, it was incomprehensible.\n\nI stood there gazing the scene, hoping it would explain itself when it hit me. The blade thrusted across my chest. I could taste my own blood and my shirt was turning crimson red. It was so obvious. I never noticed how perfect the blood matched her hood.\n", "Little Red Riding Hood munched on the apples and drank the milk in her basket at the side of the dirt road. It was supposed to be for her grandma, who was sick yet again. But what was she supposed to do, starve? \n\nA young wolf cub was watching her shyly from behind a tree, its little snout twitching. \n\n\"Well, aren't you a big bad wolf,\" she muttered, tossing him the remains of her apple. \n\nShe'd seen him around plenty of times as she walked to grandma's cottage, and knew he was harmless. He just always tried to steal a few bites from her snacks, especially if she happened to be carrying sausages.\n\nShe continued on her way to grandma's house, glancing behind her and noticing the wolf was trotting after her. Eventually, she came to the little ramshackle cottage, and knocked loudly. The wolf watched as she knocked on all the windows after no-one answered the door. She found the back door open, and she let herself through, the cub slinking in after her.\n\n\"Grandma?\" she called, grumbling under her breath when the deaf old hag didn't answer. \n\nThen she entered the living room and froze. Her grandma was slumped in her chair, her eyes fixed and staring straight ahead. \n\n\"Oh,\" Little Red Riding Hood said, biting into her apple as she thought. She glanced at the wolf. \n\n\"Good boy,\" she said, dropping sausages onto the floor. \n\nShe grabbed her Grandma's bonnet, and tied it to the wolf's head as she giggled. It yipped and waved its tail in excitement. Stupid cur. She dropped more sausages all over her grandma's lap. Who knew - perhaps they'd find a few bite marks on her and conclude the wolf killed her. Maybe she wouldn't be blamed for not getting here in time.\n\nShe closed up behind her and started running back home, determined to get back quickly and claim she got lost and never made it to grandma's. She whistled as she went. No more ridiculous trips through the woods, to try and talk to someone who was too blind and deaf to pay attention to her, anyway.\n\nAs she rounded the corner at the end of the road, Little Red Riding Hood ran into a snarling wolf, with bristling black fur, looking for its cub. It growled and snapped as it dove at the girl, who flung her basket aside and shrieked as she tried in vain to run away. \n\n___\n\nHunter Tom wept as he scribbled in his journal for the day, smudging the ink as his tears fell on the page. He would honour the little dead girl and her grandmother he'd found earlier today, by writing a story with a happy ending. \n\nThat's what he'd do. He'd tell them he killed the wolf and saved the girl, instead of it escaping with its flee-ridden cub. One of them had even had dear Granny's bonnet clutched between its teeth. \n\nHe'd read it to the village children, to teach them never to wander.\n\nTo warn them there were always monsters in the woods.\n\n____\n\n\nYou can find more of my work on /r/Inkfinger/." ]	6
	[WP] The aliens abducted everyone in your village but you.	[ "BANG! A loud crash. My eyes flew open. A shrill screech - my mother’s - quickly, abruptly muffled. \n\nThen, silence. I was wide awake now. I involuntarily imagined all the possibilities: robbers, the CIA, lizard men… My every muscle clenched tighter with each thought, and I stayed still, so still, until the only thing I could hear was the throbbing in my ears. Otherwise, it was quiet.\n\nOut of nowhere, a few dull groans. Some shuffling, and some slow, rhythmic thuds - they were coming down the stairs. As they grew closer and louder, they took on a strange but unmistakably wet quality. It sounded like someone was tenderizing a particularly bloody slab of meat by throwing it down the stairs, one step at a time. My mind raced for possible explanations, before it took that running start and leapt to the only natural conclusion: the aliens have come to take me with them. These were the squelching footsteps of my approaching destiny. I’ve always known that I was more than this boring small town, more than than this clod of earth we ignorantly called home, and now the very proof was dragging my possibly unconscious parents down our stairs. \n\nI ran up the basement steps, two at a time, and threw the door open. The first alien was at the front door, trying to get enough friction to turn the knob with a glistening tentacle. The other one held my parents, one on each side, still heaving her hefty grey mass down the steps. When she cleared a step and her tail fell on the next one, it made a loud, slobbering smacking noise, like a big wet kiss, but oozing slime.\n\nI stood still, mouth agape, my brain a cacophony of joyous, conflicting thoughts, of discovery, validation, nervousness, and exhilaration. I croaked weakly, “You…you…”\n\nAlmost instantly, their top halves twisted around to face me, their eyes wide from surprise, or maybe from the lack of eyelids. All of a sudden, they became a blur of movement: the flapping of smacking of lips, mucus flying between them, and wildly gesticulating tentacles. Then, they seemed to point at each other more and more insistently, until the one at the door backed down, her eye stems dipping in defeat. Slowly, begrudgingly, she raised a tentacle to press a button under her helmet.\n\n“Ahem…greetings, Alis - Earthling.”\n\n“You were about to say my name!”\n\n“Oh, uh, no. Alis…is our nickname for Earthlings. Slip of the tongue! Silly me!” She exhaled noisily a few times while twiddling her tentacles. Was she laughing nervously?\n\n“No, no, I’m Alison! I know you know me! You’ve been watching me, I’ve felt your presence.”\n\n“What, but we had the cloaking - no, what I mean is, you are mistaken. Now, you must excuse us, we have a ship to catch. A pleasure!” She reached for the door before her sentence was finished.\n\n“But wait! You don’t need my parents. You want me!”\n\n“We - why yes, that was our plan. But…oh look, my partner’s tentacles are full! We’re so sorry. Some other time?”\n\n“But she has a third one, behind her back.”\n\n“She…broke it in the last star system playing ball. Now, excuse - “\n\n“What about yours? They’re free.” At this point, she was half turned away from me, her tentacle desperately twisting and unfurling around the door knob.\n\n“Oh, I didn’t tell you, but I also broke…” She stopped midway, sighing moistly, and twisted back to face me.\n\n“Look, Alison. It’s not you, it’s us.”\n\n“No, it’s OK, I love you! I always have!”\n\n“Yes, we know. And we think you’re great too. We’re just not sure this is working out for us. We’d like to play the field a little, you know. Shop around. See our options. You understand. We’d like to see other people too.” The alien on the stairs jiggled my parents to illustrate.\n\n“Are…are you rejecting me?”\n\n“No! No… It’s just…”\n\n“Because it sounds like you’re saying I’m not good enough.”\n\n“Oh, we wouldn't, no, no...OK yes, we don’t want you. There, is that what you wanted to hear?”\n\n“How could you? I have waited for you for so many years! How? Why?”\n\n“Really? You really want to hear?”\n\n“Yes, give me a reason.”\n\n“You’re sure?”\n\n“Yes! I deserve an explanation.”\n\n“OK, because every time we’ve heard that, people just get angrier when we explain.”\n\n“I don’t care! Explain!”\n\n“Well, for starters, we could smell you from the mothership - ”\n\n“Wha - you’re so shallow, I thought - “\n\n“Let me finish: from the mothership in Low Earth Orbit. Our captain is still vomiting up there.”\n\n“Why you - oh come on! It’s not that bad you jerks! I showered last month! You are the worst, you vain - ”\n\nThe alien was breathing heavily now, her slimy flesh heaving up and down. Her eye stalks rolled around dramatically.\n\n“OK, and how about this: you are of 26 earth years, and you still live in your family unit’s underground facility!” Her tentacles failed in annoyance.\n\n“But..but…I…I’m just between jobs!”\n\n“Oh, really? Light has traveled a full parsec since the last time you had a job.”\n\n“It’s not my fault! Blame society! You don’t even know how bad the Earth economy - “\n\n“Oh, you are just so, so - you know what. I am done with this. I am done with your excuses, done with your BO, done with you. This is exactly what I said would happen.”\n\nThe alien whipped around to face the door. She tried giving the knob another slippery twist, before gargling angrily and just running it down.\n\n“Nice to see you, have a great life, hope we never see you again.” She slid out aggressively. Her partner skulked down the stairs and waved an awkward tentacl-y goodbye before following her partner. I panted heavily as I watched them sliding across our lawn, my parents bouncing like ragdolls on an alien’s hip.\n\n“This isn’t over! I know you want me, and you will come crawling back.”\n\nThey didn’t even turn back. The last words I ever heard from aliens were just faint mutterings. \n\n“This job…the worst planet…so damn clingy…”", "The ships are still in my line of sight as they peacefully float above the rising sun. My adrenaline fueled fists clench up, knuckles white as my nails dig painfully into my palms. I stand directly in the middle of my village, begging them -- No, mocking them, to come back and finish what they have started.\n\nHardly anytime has passed since the lightning quick abduction. Those monsters... they made my whole village dissipate into thin air in an instant. Men, woman, children alike, all gone within a blink of an eye. And now, I stand here alone, completely helpless against a force that I cannot even begin to fathom, let alone match. I want to weep, I want to fall to the ground and sob but I cannot. My eyes peer above, the rage building every second my gaze continues.\n\nI feel my hands fill with warm blood. My nails have ripped into my rough palms now but I pay it no mind. The ships begin to ascend slowly as they turn into small black specs slowly shrinking with every second. My gut wrenches with anguish as everyone I love, everyone that I know, slips away into an unknown world. \n\nI never break my gaze with the horizon. My adrenaline continues to pump as if I am drawing it from a limitless well. Then, something happens as my anger transitions into a deep sorrow. I start to radiate with a pristine white aura, my whole body engulfed in the light. I fall to my knees and begin to sob, my arms giving out with weakness, my head soon lands softly on the soil of our beloved village. I let out a barbaric scream, a scream that never existed inside of me until now. The earth around me shakes, the birds scatter from the surrounding forest as my voice reverberates through the air for miles.\n\nAs I lay crying, the armada appears out of no where, floating just above the tree line. A deep voice bellows, surrounding me from all angles.\n\n\"Young Justinian, we finally found you.\"\n\nI look up, tears still running down my cheek. The entire fleet illuminates as the bright lights blind me. Before I can blink again, a man stands directly above me. His aura reminiscent of mine but much more intense. His perfectly angular face smiling down at me, his eyes glowing with a gentle gold hue.\n\n\"It's okay Son, I am here now.\"", "Kibwe lay in the brush, silent as a fleeting shadow. He dared not move a muscle. One unexpected or unnatural movement and the pheasant would fly away without a second thought. This was the thing with birds: they never take time to assess a threat. All the bird cares about is whether or not it is safe in the moment.\n\nTo hunt a bird, one must become part of its environment. Blend in so naturally that even you begin to believe that you belong there. Become so much a part of nature that the bird is dead before it can realize that there is something wrong.\n\nThe bird poked through the tall grass, hunting for a meal of its own. Bobbing around its stout, gray head, the bird took a few hurried steps closer to Kibwe. Instinctively, he leaned back on the balls of his feet and drew his hooked spear back from his chest. Best to wait until the bird is just a bit closer.\n\nKibwe was known among his people as “Nimble Viper.” He had earned this title after a cheetah had prowled into the center of the village during a festival ceremony for the harvest. Before the other men of the village had time to panic, Kibwe had pierced the cat in the side and hurled it to the ground. He struck with a certain focused ferocity, his weapon a blur as it passed into his target. One of the village elders described it as the ruthless single strike of a venomous snake.\n\nOf course, the people had drunk much of the palm-wine by this time of night, and the story is exaggerated just a bit more each time it is told. Still, Kibwe took great pride in his strike of the viper and felt a brief rush as he whipped forward out of the grass, sinking the hook of his spear into the bird and hoisting it up into the air. A clean stab, exiting through the head and ensuring it died instantly. Kibwe rushed to bag his prey and begin the trek home. It had fallen dark long ago, and his family had expected him much sooner.\n\nKibwe could tell something was wrong from a long way away. The flames outside the elders’ chambers were usually lit through the night. As he approached the dark village, Kibwe felt a slow sense of danger, realizing that all the sounds of nature had ceased. The closer he got to his village, the more distant the constant music of creaking frogs and humming insects became. There was only silence.\n\nKibwe held his spear at the ready as he passed through the outer households of his village. He briefly peeked in the houses of a few families he knew, finding them empty. All of them. Not even a woman or child in sight.\n\nAfter a few minutes of uncertain, dreamlike walking, Kibwe found himself at his own door. He stopped for a moment before entering, berating himself for his senseless fear. This was likely one of the Oracles’ grand commands from the gods. The village had been asked to convene as one, elsewhere. This, of course, had not happened for a long time, longer even than KIbwe’s father could have remembered, but he supposed it was the most likely explanation. They would be back before the morning, he was sure.\n\nKibwe was just about to call out into the dark house when he heard a noise. A loud scratching noise, from inside. He stood there, listening for a few moments as the noise grew louder and louder, before quickly ducking behind the wall.\n\nTwo humanoid creatures exited the house of Kibwe. They stood on wrinkled, four-clawed feet, at least two heads above Kibwe’s own. They had the leathery, loose skin of a snake about to shed, and walked with their legs bent out of shape, like a bird. Their heads were like short, curling snakes, with scaly necks that were constantly twisting and turning around.\n\nKibwe stared, biting the inside of his mouth. Impossible. These were the kind of monsters children told stories about.\n\nThey walked out of the house and into the open air, squawking in low tones to one another. One of them raised a small, smooth piece of metal up to its head. It screeched loudly for a few moments, waving its head around as it seemed to speak. Its deep yellow eyes scanned the area.\n\nThey began to stalk toward the center of the village, still making those unearthly sounds at each other, until one froze, mid-squawk. It locked eyes with Kibwe, head coiling and swiveling toward him. It raised a claw at him, shrieking sharply at its companion.\n\nKibwe gripped his spear and sprinted, headlong at the creatures. He let out a booming cry of his own as he swiftly closed the gap between him and the monsters.\n\nJumping back on their lizard-like trunks, one of the monsters held out its metal tool toward Kibwe. Instantly he felt himself slow down: he was still pumping his legs forward, but being pulled toward the ground at a snail’s pace. He felt like he was slogging through a tall lake.\n\nChittering, the monsters strolled over and walked around him. They studied him with wide eyes, observing him amusedly as he struggled to move. They croaked, turning to each other and twisting to look at him. One of them began to speak to its metal tool once again, humming a low tone.\n\nKibwe stared as the monsters conversed. They made sure to stay a few feet away from him as they spoke. Every time he would take a long, slow stride toward them, they would eye him for a moment before hopping away. It was maddening.\n\nThe one that was speaking put away its tool and placed a wrinkled claw on its companion’s shoulder. It spoke a series of quick clicks, and the other creature reacted violently. It swung its head out toward the other, pushing it back a few steps with open claws. It squawked loudly, and the two began to chatter on top of one another.\n\nKibwe watched intently, landing another step down on the ground. They were distracted, now.\n\nThe creatures’ argument sounded like a flock of dying birds. They both seemed to be making three distinct sounds at once, making Kibwe want to tear out his ears. The heads of the two monsters seemed to be circling up against each other, like two snakes looking for an opportunity to strike.\n\nKibwe took another step toward the monsters. He slowly shifted his grip on the shaft of his spear. Just a little closer.\n\nThe monsters began to claw at each other, hissing. One of them took a step back, then rammed its head into the other’s chest. It squawked indignantly, pointing a claw at Kibwe to seemingly make a point.\n\nNow, Kibwe had not earned the title of “Nimble Viper” for nothing. He struck, hooking his spear into the creature’s chest as if he was baiting a fishing rod. He ripped downward, splitting open the creature like he was gutting the fish. The other monster stared in utter shock as its companion flinched slightly, reached a claw up into the air, then fell backward into the dirt.\n\nThe remaining monster took several hasty steps backward, staring at Kibwe’s bloody spear. It raised its metal tool to its head and began to chirp fearfully into it. Stumbling further backward, it dropped onto all fours and skittered away into the darkness.\n\nKibwe suddenly felt the monster’s evil hold on him fade. He shook out his arms, stowing away his spear on his back.\n\nHe bent down and examined the dead creature. Its head lay limp, bent back on itself against the ground. He looked the monster up and down for a few moments before snatching its metal tool off of the ground nearby. He held it up to the moonlight, observing its intricately carved features. An object of unholy power.\n\nCasting an unshaken look back at his house, Kibwe pressed the metal tightly against his chest and set off after the monster into the darkness.\n\n---\n\nI wholeheartedly believe that hunting a good story is just as difficult as hunting a bird. Um...maybe not as difficult. Hunting a bird is pretty hard. Especially with a spear, man. Anyway, check out /r/FlyingNarwhal.", "\"It's awfully quiet today\" I think to myself as I climb out of my bed in our family's Yurt. I look around to see the beds of my mother, father, and two brothers perfectly made and no one inside them. I toss a coat onto myself and look around the Yurt. The cooking fire is not burning and the coals aren't warm. This is when I start to feel like something is wrong. \n\nMy mother always cooked early in the morning before we all woke up. It was what gave her time to think while she cooked breakfast for the rest of us. I try to listen for anyone else inside the yurt. I hear no one. This is the second thing that seems wrong. My two brothers are almost always up by this time, playing. They are also very rambunctious, I swear you can hear them from a mile away. My father is the only one who is usually still asleep when I get up, but he also snores...loudly. \n\nI leave our yurt and the first thing I notice is that everything outside is dead silent. Nothing is moving, no voices can be heard. I peek into a few of the other yurts to notice that every other one is the same as ours. The beds are made, the coals are cool, and everything is nice and tidy. \n\nI back away from the village and think for a second \"What the fuck...\" before I spot an odd looking gray object. \n\nI walk closer to it. The object is probably 20 feet tall and looks much like a great, majestic eagle. The object has rows of green lines on its wings that almost resemble feathers and long metal rods with a red tip on them, one on each wing. I reach out to touch the red tip, only to instantly pull back my hand in pain. \n\nI glance over to see a platform lower from the back of the object and a tall, spindly humanoid figure walks out. It's skin is wrinkly and blistered, and it almost resembles an old man. However, there are a lot of differences between it and a human being. Its skin is a gray colored, much like the object, its eyes are yellow orbs, and it has three arms, one of which is growing out of its back and has a hook on the end. \n\nI walk past the creature and peek inside the object only to have my heart sink. My family is inside. My mother and father are tied to the wall, while my two brothers are tied to tables face-down, their backs being cut open and examined.\n\nI turn back to the creature and scream \"What the fuck are you doing with my family?\"\n\nThe creature calmly replies, in an almost angelic voice, \"Your family, and everyone else in the human village are being tested on for the greater good of the Galaxy. I'm sure you'll understand Zuzuela.\"\n\nmy jaw drops, \"How do you know my name?\"\n\n\"Reasons.\" It replies, before grabbing a metal staff and hitting me over the head. \n\nWhen I come to, I am laying there on the ground, and I watch the object, which is a ship, fly up along with other ships just like it, to a massive black ball, floating there menacingly in the sky." ]	4
	[WP] You live in a society where the entire justice system is based on "two truths and a lie."	[ "The judge slammed her gavel on its woodblock base, silencing the courtroom that was abuzz with pre-trial discussion. \"Now,\" she said, \"if everyone is quite ready I would like to begin.\" She peered over he spectacles at the defendant, a bored looking man with his feet up on the table in front of him, filing his nails. \"Mr. Durant, you are accused of the murder of Jonas Thompson, first degree. May we have your opening proposition in its traditional format?\"\n\n\"Let's see,\" Durant folded his arms, \"First, I am an excellent shot. Give me a target three miles away and I can hit it with any trigger you hand me. Second, and here's the obvious one, I killed Jonas Thompson. And lastly,\" he paused and looked at the ceiling, \"do you remember the Diana Fitzgerald case? Five years ago, I think.\"\n\n\"I do,\" said the judge, \"I presided over it.\"\n\n\"Good,\" continued Durant, \"Then lastly, you got the wrong guy on the Fitzgerald case.\"\n\nThe courtroom vibrated with murmurs and whispers. The judge pounded her gavel. \"Order!\" she shouted. \"Mr. Durant, I do not think you are in any position to play games with me.\"\n\n\"No games here, your honor.\"\n\n\"Then you swear, under God and and Man, and under the penalty of death, that you have provided the court with two truths and a lie?\"\n\n\"Swear it forwards and backwards.\"\n\nThe judge gave him a stony look.\n\n\"If you give me that guard's firearm I can go ahead and clear up one claim, make it easy for you.\" Durant smiled. The judge blinked.\n\n\"Alright,\" she said. A collective gasp rose from the crowd. \"I suggest anyone uncomfortable with my decision leave the room.\" They did. Every attendee fled the trial, pushing and tripping over benches. Occasional shouts questioning the judge's judgement were heard, until only Durant, the judge, and three guards were left in the room. The guards glanced at each other, uncertain. \"Well?\" said the judge, \"give him a gun.\" The guard closest slowly handed Durant his weapon, then quickly retreated to the furthest wall.\n\n\"This is new,\" Durant turned the weapon over in his hands, \"you've got balls, your honor, if you don't mind me saying so.\"\n\nThe judge picked up her gavel and threw in in a clean arc over the courtroom. Durant spun, cocked the gun, and shot the gavel clean in two. The hammer and the handle fell to the floor, one after the other.\n\n\"Well,\" said the judge, \"that clears up your first claim.\"\n\nDurant eyed her and put the gun down on the table. A show of trust. \"Tell you what, I'll make this easy for you.\"\n\n\"Oh?\"\n\n\"Yeah. I've done plenty of... bad things, but they had nothing to do with Jonas. There's your lie. And before you get any ideas, they had nothing to do with that Diana girl, either. Not entirely, at least.\"\n\nThe judge was unimpressed.\n\n\"But,\" he continued, \"I know the truth about your girl Fitzgerald. I know who really killed her, not to mention why. You don't know the half of it, but I'll help you out if you overlook my involvement.\" He sat back down and recrossed his arms. \"And I'll tell you who got Jonas,\" he added.\n\nThe judge sat back and bit her lip. It was a long while before she spoke. \"Agreed,\" she nodded." ]	1
Otherwise the population of drawings will get out of hand. I also meant drawings done by children.	[WP] Any image made to resemble anything living becomes sentient. Paintings, artwork, and even advertisements will become a living being... Unfortunately you are the worker that has to "Take care of" children's drawings.	[ "A call came into the tiny urban apartment.\r\n\r\n\"Hey John, we've got another job for you. We're sending you the link right now.\" John smiled. When a job came in, it meant he would get paid well, and get some new material for his portfolio.\r\n\r\n<Start Message>\r\n\r\nFrom: NotAnIllegalBusiness@gmail.com\r\n\nTo: JohnsWork13579@gmail.com\r\n\nSubject: New Job\r\n\r\nBody:\r\n\r\nHere a new job for you, since you've been pestering me about one for so long. Buyer wants it in a couple of hours.\r\n\r\nLink- http://imgur.com/0KuKTG1\r\n\nRecipient- ajfyjxfivwu@tempmail.com\r\n\r\n<End Message>\r\n\r\nHe pulled up Photoshop on his computer and got to work. A snip here, another there, and then the child started complaining.\r\n\r\nThey all did, and usually he could just ignore them. But this girl's voice was grating on his nerves.\r\n\r\nA little paint there, retouch this area, and perfect! Her mouth was removed from her face. Now to finish up the rest of her...\n\nJohn really likes \"taking care of\" children.\n\r\n\r\n\r\nApologies for formatting, I only use Reddit on the mobile app and I can't figure out how to use italics, etc." ]	1
	[WP] A court that prosecutes time travelling criminals is once again charging someone for the attempted murder of Adolf Hitler.	[ "The guard will drag the Time Traveler into the small courtroom. The courtroom will be very small, with no place for the attorneys or the audience to sit; only one for the judge, a very comfortable and fluffy chair, and one for the defendant, a wooden pillar which the defendant will be tied to. The Time Traveler will be a very unkempt man, with his beard and hair tied in knots which will never open, except with the ever corrupting effect of time, but we mustn't forget that this man is a Time Traveler, and he can be exempt from the claws of time if he so desires. That, however, will depend on the decision of the judge. \n\nThe poor man, as he is being tied to the pillar, will look up to the judge hoping to find some redemption, but he will only see one look back at him: Bored, uninterested contempt.\n\n“So,” the judge will say in a manner which was devoid of all enthusiasm, “time traveler number 1456923830. I would like to congratulate you for trying to kill Hitler the 4500923rd time and failing again. I honestly couldn’t care less if you killed him or not, but what bothers me young man is your lack of creativity. When I was(?) your age we did more creative things. Have you ever heard of a man called John Prottingen? I’d reckon not. He invented the cruelest torture device.”\n\n“And you killed him?” \n\nThe judge will shoot a glare: “No, that would be boring. I inspired a much more cruel way for him to do it. So cruel in fact the Time Travel Regulation Union decided to buy it from him. Well, the reason I have told you is I decided upon your punishment. You shall be subject to the most gruesome of tortures. You will, for the rest of eternity, watch shows made for four year olds, with saccharine filter turned to eleven. No, what the hell twelve.”\n\n“But sir we’ve never turned it so high” the guard will say.\nThe judge will ignore him and continue, “Guard, take him to room 435634278297-bckdö~k. All appeals have already been made and rejected. I hope I won’t, in any time or place, see you again.”\n\nThe guard will take the Time Traveler to room 435634278297-bckdö~k. In there the Time Traveler will fail to endure the amount of saccharine in the room necessary to survive until the heat death. \n", "The metallic record droid floated about the courtroom, the bright lights reflecting off its polished aluminum body, its single eye-like camera taking in the exchange between the defense and opposition. Whatever it recorded now would be archived in the court's library for eons to come.\n\n\"Your honor, my client regrets the decisions he's made.\" The tall man in the suit said, glancing at his client, who now wore a bright orange jump suit. The judge glared at the man.\n\n\"The many bad decisions your client has made.\" The judge stated, shaking his head. \"Do you have anything to say for yourself, Mr. Bolton.\"\n\nThe man in the orange jump suit stood to his feet, his head had been shaved and his hands were cuffed behind his back.\n\n\"Your honor, I nearly lost my whole family in the Holocaust. If you could go back in time to save your lineage, would you?\" The man asked. The judge locked his eyes with the defendant.\n\n\"You are not the first person to attempt to assassinate Adolf Hitler since time travel became public, and you will not be the last. You are not unique in thinking that maybe Adolf's death would save millions of lives, but it would also alter history. If he were to die, myself and you may not even be sitting here right now.\" The judge said.\n\n\"Yes, but so many would be saved.\" The time criminal said.\n\n\"History cannot be altered, Mr. Bolton, it must run it's course. Time is linear, we can go back, but we are not allowed to bend it, as it it may break. The fact remains that your transponder has alerted the Time Guards of your travel to the World War 2 era, on 3 separate occasions, which you and me both know, is illegal. On this such occasion, the Time Guards found you in the woods outside Hitler's quarters with a hand gun. I do not need to explain myself any further.\" The judge's face was now turning red.\n\n\"But, your honor...\" The criminal began.\n\n\"I will have silence in my court from you, Mr. Bolton. You are too dangerous to be let out once again. Although we have not perfected future travel yet, I can certainly predict your next 30 years. A life sentence in the time cellars and a removal of your time travel license. Should you ever meet your parole expectations, you will never time travel again.\"\n\nAnd with that, the judge slammed his gavel of judgement on his stand.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "I hated my job. \n\n\"Next case.\"\n\nThe bailiff dragged a man into the room and chained him to the defendants chair. The man looked fit to explode with rage. \n\n\"Defendant Nick Harkness, how do you plead,\" I droned. \n\n\"How do I plead? How do I PLEAD? Innocent! Justified! I haven't done anything wrong!\"\n\nI rolled my eyes. \"You went back in time and killed Hitler, didn't you?\"\n\n\"I slew a monster! There's no crime in that!\"\n\n\"Mr. Harkness... you can't truly kill Hitler. The many worlds interpretation of time travel is true. Killing Hitler just spawns a new universe, separate from the one where you originated. All the same people live, all the same people die, except that you bring into existence an entirely new multiversal branching point from which another infinitude of realities can spawn.\"\n\n\"He's dead! I choked the life out of him with my bare hands!\"\n\n\"You didn't kill him. By traveling back from the temporal front and exercising free will in the past, you spawned a new infinitude of realities. In some you succeeded, in some you failed. You accomplished nothing, and depending on which philosopher you asked, you might be responsible for a literal infinity of new holocausts in all the multiversal realities where you failed.\"\n\nMr. Harkness gaped at me. \n\n\"Considering that the Defendant admits the crime, the Court finds him guilty. Sentencing will be held tomorrow.\"\n\nThe bailiff dragged the struggling man out of my Court. \n\nI checked my paperwork to see who else was on my docket, even though I knew. Same thing as yesterday, and the day before that, for the entirety of my career and the careers of every other Judge in Time Court. Ten to the thousandth power and counting cases of The People vs Nick Harkness, as an infinity of multiversal variants on the same bailiff brought an infinity of the same man before an infinity of the same judge on the charge of murdering an infinity of the same Hitler.\n\nI hate multiverse theory. ", "The presiding judge of Time Court on the morning of Monday, October 13th in the year of the Eternal Return was the Honorable James Radish. Standing just inside his chambers he could hear the scrape of chairs as the courtroom stood for his presence. With a deep inhale he walked into the courtroom, heading for his seat and glancing at the docket.\n\nThen he let out the breath. \n\n\"Judge James Radish presiding.\" There was the scrape of chairs again as everyone sat. At the front of the room were two lawyers. The prosecutor of the case - who Judge Radish recognized as Assistant Juncture Attorney Jeanne Castar - was wearing a neat dress made of liquid seconds. He peered closely at her for a moment, wondering if his problem lay with her clothing or the presiding idea that women's clothing must always seem to be so tight. He decided to let it go. \n\nThere was a clearing of throats and a man at the table for the defense stood. \"Your honor, if I may.\" \n\nJudge Radish waved his hand.\n\n\"Defense Attorney Carlos Prett, bar number...\"\n\nJudge Radish let his mind wander to an earlier time, when the cases he had presided over had covered topics he believed in. Now it was all &mdash;\n\n\"Your honor?\"\n\nJudge Radish broke from his daydream and looked up. \"I'm sorry, say that last part again.\"\n\n\"The plea, your honor.\"\n\n\"Ah. Yes.\" Judge Radish flipped through his file. \"Mister...Joshua Malcolm. Please stand. In the charge of attempted murder over a famous historian how does the defendant plead?\"\n\n\"Seasonally, your honor,\" Prett answered. \n\n\"Seasonally?\"\n\n\"Your honor,\" AJA Castar stood. \"The lawyer for the defense is a famous attorney known for confusing the courts in cases of attempted murder against Hitler. I move to strike that plea entry from the record as it &mdash;\"\n\n\"Really now,\" Prett interrupted. \"Are you afraid of a time-related plea? Here in the fourth dimension are all of us still so tied to the black and white guilty or not-guilty? Don't we live in the Eternal Return? Is time not a circle? Are we not destined to encounter Hitlers in our future, in our past? The Hitler, the same we encountered every time?\"\n\n\"Objection, opposing counsel is trying to use theoretical physics as a defense.\" \n\n\"Sustained,\" Judge Radish raised his hand. \"Counsel, do you know how many Adolf Hitler cases I've presided over?\"\n\n\"No, your honor.\" \n\n\"Young man,\" Judge Radish turned his attention to the defendant. \"Almost every time traveler that comes through this courtroom is trying to kill Adolf Hitler. Why is that? Why does everyone think that no one will have tried it before? More importantly, why do none of you see the solution here?\"\n\n\"The solution, your honor?\" asked Prett. \n\n\"You kill his mother,\" Judge Radish rolled his eyes. \"Stop trying to kill the man in the height of his greatness and kill the whole root of the family tree.\" \n\nHe banged his gavel. \"The Eternal Return will hear no defense today. Our lands are not governed by fair trial. Go back to Earth, and the next time you end up here, you will be banished forever to a black hole.\" \n\nJudge Radish paused. \"But seriously. Go for the mother.\" ", "“Hello everyone, today we are gathered in this court for the trial of Mr. Andersen. Case number TTAM 95184-1175: time-travelling attempt of murder on Adolf Hitler. As you may know, the rules are clear about time-travelling: nobody is allowed to modify past in any way or by any mean. You tried to overpass those rules Mr. Andersen, what do you have to say for your defense?\n\n-Well your Honor, my client had the best intentions in the world. He wanted to avoid the greatest evil of the 20th century to rise and make such a big genocide.\n\n-That’s forbidden to alter the past because you can’t predict the consequences.\n\n-Indeed your Honor, but my client has a point in his reasoning: if Hitler didn’t access power, the WWII wouldn’t happen, if the WWII didn’t happen, then the Jews wouldn’t be dead in such a horrible number, all the soldiers wouldn’t be dead too, and we wouldn’t have invented the nuclear bomb. The cold war wouldn’t have happened because Germany would still be a single country and the race for armament wouldn’t have happened. Moreover, we wouldn’t have created Israel and the middle-east would have been a more peaceful place to live.\n\n-Do you have any ideas how this could be dangerous to think that way? Do you know the principle of 4th dimension? The dimension of choices?\n\n-Yes you Honor, and maybe my client does too but we don’t see why you’re talking about that.\n\n-Because it’s all that matters. If you change one thing in the past, you can make a divergence in the possible futures, and you have no idea which one you could end up. That’s why if you go in the past, you have to take a sterilized suit to avoid bringing new diseases to early, you must be invisible and inaudible too to avoid the people to see you, little story short: you can observe but not interact.\n\n-Yes your Honor, we understand that, but my client had good intentions so it can only bring peace to the world.\n\n-No, your client wanted to avoid WWII, fine, but the world was tense already, and killing Hitler may have provoked the WWII anyway, or even worse, a nuclear war during the Cold War, do you have anything to add to your defense?\n\n-No your honor, that’s all we had to say.\n\n-Fine, I’ll let the court decide of your fate.”\n", "Judge Mannerheim didn't even bother looking up from his desk when he called the 20th suspect today in. And even as he did, he wouldn't have been surprised seeing a young man in a way too baggy shirt and red pants. Plus, he was wearing some kind of hat that looked like someone only bothered making a quarter of the usual brim. This may not sound as a reason for surprise to anyone who grew up watching spongebob and playing on a gameboy, but as it was the most glorious year of 1939, most people must have been surprised by such an extravagant presence in a room. \n\nHowever, Judge Mannerheim had seen subjects on shoes with wheels, and even a young girl with bright, sleek, green hair who was wearing a shirt with a print of a curly haired boy with glasses and the caption 'Harry Potter\". He himself found this the most unusual of appearances, surely there were ladies around in Berlin who adored their spouses, but most of them didn't sew a portrait of him on their dress. \n\nBut Judge Mannerheim was a court Judge, and not a fashion judge, and the fact that he met so many extravagant youth, was simply because he was the head of the most unusual and busy court of all time: \"The Court of Bringing the Supposedly Escaped From a Mental Institution to Justice for Trying to Kill Our Führer\". What the name didn't mention, was that all of them tried to explain their deed by saying they came from the future and were trying to safe millions of lifes, but the nameplate above the door wasn't big enough for such an explanation, and Judge Mannerheim thought that \"Escaped from a Mental Institution\" covered the common delusion of all these subjects. \n\nWhen the young man with the red pants was brought to his feet, Judge Mannerheim signed: \"Name, Occupation and the year you'd say you time travelled from.'' The boy stared a bit dizzy and certainly afraid at the ceiling, before letting out a enourmously high pitched sound, which was probably meant as a scream, but Judge Mannerheim couldn't be entirely sure, because he thought he recognized the English word for a newly born child in the sound. Indeed, it sounded like the constant repetition of the word: \"Baby\" and after that an agonizing girly scream of fury. Judge Mannerheim gestured the guards to keep him quiet, and to lead him to the cell, where he surely would be executed. The only reason keeping the subjects alive for a few days, was figuring out which mental asylum tried setting up their patients to kill their Great Leader. \n\nAfter all, Judge Mannerheim thought, his job was a rather boring one. " ]	6
	[WP] You foolishly wished on a genie to make your life an unending party. A week has passed now...	[ "As your head goes under the water you hear the music finally soften to a muffle. You take in the peace for the first time in a week. As you lift your head from the sink and wipe your face off with a towel that has seen better days. The towel runs down your face your blurred blood shot eyes look back at you in the mirror, for a second you think this has to be the end, I can’t take anymore, your numb inside and out. \n \nYou hear the laughter outside the door, and you know you have to go back out and “perform” for these people, they are here because of you. This used to be a passion, the excitement for the party, the smiles, the fun, now it has become a chore, what you thought would be the best thing in the world, has become your personal hell. \n \nYou look back at yourself in the mirror and realize, this is what you asked for; you wanted this, you could have asked for anything, you picked this. And with that you start to put on your makeup, trying to make yourself look as good as day one. Deep down you know those days have sailed, nothing will ever bring you back. You finish your makeup, tighten your bow tie, and walk out of the door as you hear a mother scream the words you now dread… “Kids you ready for Giggles the Clown?”\n", "I don't sleep.\n\nAt least I don't think I sleep. \n\nThe first 3 nights I slept. \n\nAfter that I stopped sleeping.\n\nWhat I do isn't sleep.\n\nThe world goes black once in a while, and I appear back here. A tidal wave of bass engulfs me and I can't breathe. Then the migraines hit me like a thunder strike and I vomit. My clothes are soaked in vomit, feces, urine, blood, and semen from the first few nights. The essence of a party is complete freedom from responsibility. Unfortunately personal hygiene is a personal responsibility. Anytime I try to take a shower, change clothes, or wash clothes a rush of people grab me and drag me to the middle of the dance floor. They force feed me whatever drugs I need to stay on my feet and force me to dance. You'd think as a grown man I could say no to drugs, but it's hard to say no to four bouncers shoving a handful of cocaine in your face. I tried to fight back once, that's where the blood on my clothes came from. The first time it happened I was so shocked. I wondered why these people kept doing this to me. That's when I realized that these things aren't people. These creatures look like people, talk like people, and even fuck like people, but they haven't left this room in a week. They all look just as fresh as they did on night one. \n\nI miss my brother.\n\nWe used to talk everyday.\n\nHe's called me 57 times and left me 22 voicemail messages.\n\nEvery time I try to pick up the phone the line disconnects.\n\nListening to his worried voice through the music is my only comfort.\n\nOn night one I had nine beers, fours shots, three bowls, and my first ecstasy pill. I was having sex with one of these things every couple of hours. It was the best night of my life and then I topped it the next night. I finally felt like people liked me. I felt like I was a part of something. The music has been so loud and constant that I've lost most of my hearing. I can't hear my brother's voice anymore. \n\nThis has to stop.\n\nI need to get out of here. \n\nI wait until I have a chance and grab a corkscrew from behind the bar.\n\nI jam it deep into my neck and everything goes black.\n\nA tidal wave of bass engulfs me and I can't breathe.\n\n \n\n" ]	2
	[WP] When a new president is elected, they are given a special security briefing. In reality, this is an old tradition where various directors, military officers and current ministers present fake evidence and compete to see who can convince the president of the most ridiculous things.	[ "\"Mr President I want you to know I am telling you this in full confidence.\" Said the head of the Secret Service.\n\nThe President looked at him. \"Yes go ahead.\"\n\n\"Well, we know this job is stressful. A man like yourself needs to be able to let off some steam. Ease that stress.\"\n\n\"Yes indeed.\" The President says.\n\n\"Yes Mr President. But we can not have a Monica Lewinsky if you know what I mean.\"\n\n\"Oh yes of course.\" Says the President.\n\n\"Alright sir. Here is the special key card. As the new President you now have access.\"\n\n\"Access to what?\"\n\n\"If you go into the elevator sir. And use the key card you can press the button that takes you to B3. Usually it only goes to B2 sir. We have heard you have a thing for butts. Possibly things that are more exotic. We have some resources let's say on B3 that can help you and you can for sure release a little stress if you catch my drift sir.\"\n\n\"What? Is this for real?\"\n\n\"Oh yes sir. We have quite a selection down there. For a man with an exotic taste or even a homegrown taste. Lots of strength and flexibility if you catch my drift sir.\"\n\n\"This is crazy.\" Says the President.\n\n(End of Entry, DJ ROBO BISCUIT)", "The campaign had been hard on her, but, as she took her seat in the Oval Office, she felt with absolute certainty that she was ready for anything. Then, the peace of a president always short lived, a knock at the door interrupted her reverie.\n\n“Come in!” she called. \n\nIn walked several suits and, at their center, him. He swaggered up to her desk as confidently as if it belonged to one of his employees, pursing his lips at the veneer. \n\n“Look at this old desk! Oh, I love a desk with character! I love that desk. I love that it’s old. It’s prestigious and powerful and that’s what’s important...” he said, silently chuckling all the while.\n\n“Thank you, it’s been in the office for generations.” she replied, struggling to swallow a unique animosity cultivated by the timbre of his voice. \n\n“Actually, let’s get rid of the desk! Ha, I think she actually believed me, that I like this decrepit thing, just like she believed that they actually elected her president!” His mouth hung wide and his eyes squinched shut as a laugh played across his face in what felt like slow motion. \n\n“Excuse me?” she said, forcefully pushing each syllable through her teeth. \n\n“Now don't be unreasonable. Believe me, I tried. But these experts, they're saying you're crooked, and I don't know, but people are saying it. And my friends here, my friends are all ready to take you to a very nice jail cell. You can even keep the desk!”\n\n“Get. Out. Of. My. Office.” she snarled.\n\nJust then, a knock interrupted the impending screaming match. \n\n“Hey! Guys! Sorry to interrupt, but I forgot my favorite pen when I was packing. And Madame President, congrats on passing your first test.”", "The three men solemnly stepped into the oval office. The CIA Director, who had several manilla folders, The Secretary of Defense, who carried three briefcases, and Presley Quinn, who had nothing but a folded up orange poster.\n\n\"As you know sir, it is a necessary for the Commander In Chief to be briefed on top-secret information as soon as possible.\" Said the CIA Director as he organized his folders.\n\n\"Of course.\" The President replied.\n\n\"And this information may come as a great shock to you, but I assure you everything we present to you today has been thoroughly studied and confirmed as fact.\"\n\n\"I would expect nothing less, let's begin.\"\nThe president stated.\n\nThe CIA Director pulled out a map of Syria with several blue circles drawn on it. \"These areas marked in blue represent known terrorist headquarters. It's much too dangerous to send troops in, so we've been attacking them using drone strikes for the past four months, but we've yet to successfully hit any of these targets. Our ordinance appears to be prematurely detonating in the air.\"\n\n\"They have anti-ballistic systems that advanced?\" The President said.\n\n\"Well sir, it appears they don't have anti-ballistics at all. Our spy planes have seen the terrorists congregating in meditative circles at these locations, and electromagnetic readings give us strong reason to believe that the terrorists have found a way to create psychic protective fields around themselves. We are currently employing Buddhist monks to help us develop a missile capable of penetrating any spiritual barriers.\"\n\nThe President silently stared at the CIA Director, who was biting his tongue.\n\n\"Incredible,\" He finally replied. \"Continue your research at any cost.\"\n\n\"Yes sir.\" The CIA Director said as he sat back down, looking at the other two with satisfaction.\n\n\"Mr.President.\" Said the Secretary Of Defense as he opened two of his three briefcases, which contained a toy brontosaurus and a toy pterodactyl. \"Do you know what these are?\"\n\n\"Dinosaurs.\" He replied.\n\n\"Exactly. Dinosaurs.\" The Secretary of Defense stared at the President with grave intensity. \"What if I told you that somewhere within our country, dinosaurs are being cloned in a secret facility, for the purpose of military deployment?\"\n\n\"I would say that seems rather useless, given our current military arsenal.\"\n\n\"You might think that,\" The Secretary of Defense opened the third case, which revealed a tank made of lego bricks, surrounded by bank robber lego men. \"But we've been able to modify this T-Rex here...\" He picked up the brontosaurus toy \"To be able to move twice as fast as a Jeep, have a natural saddle shape in it's back, and contain a panel in the back of it's head that controls several missile and machine gun systems. In the hundreds of combat drills we've run, these creatures beat traditional combat tanks every time. This is the future of ground warfare.\" He smashed the toy into the tank, breaking it into pieces.\"\n\nThe president sweeped a few lego blocks off his lap and shook his head.\n\"Very interesting. I'm excited to see what this project could become.\"\n\n\"As am I sir.\" The Secretary of Defense leaned back in his chair, smirking.\n\n\"And as for you Mr...?\"\n\n\"Quinn.\" The final man stood up and unfolded his poster, which was a cross-section of human anatomy. \"Sir, I assume you're familiar with the current model of the human body, as shown here?\"\n\n\"Of course I am.\"\n\n\"And what do you make of this model?\"\nHe flipped the poster around, revealing a similar cross-section, but the inside had no organs or bones. It was just yellow, with a line labeled 'sand' pointing to the middle of it.\n\n\"I don't know. What is that?\"\n\n\"This, Mr. President, is the human body. All surgeons, doctors, medical officials, and anybody else who handles the supposed 'intricacies' of the human body are involved in perpetuating a world-wide plot to keep this fact secret.\"\n\n\"What fact?\"\n\n\"We're all full of sand, Mr.President, and nothing else.\"\n\n\"Nonsense. People break bones and need surgeries all the time.\"\n\n\"Have you ever broken a bone or needed a surgery, Mr.President?\"\n\nA look of concern grew over the President's face.\n\n\"Of course not, because it's impossible to break what you don't have. My organization helps stage thousands of these surgeries and injuries each year, all to ensure the public doesn't know about the sand.\"\n\n\"But I've cut myself before. I've bled!\" Desperation could be hear in the President's voice now.\n\n\"We inject a thin layer of self-replicating blood gelatin into the skin of every newborn, along with the vaccinations. It's all a lie, Mr.President. It's all sand.\"\n\n\"But...but why?\"\n\n\"Can you imagine the damage this sort of thing would do if it were public knowledge?\"\n\nThere was silence in the room.\n\nThe President stared intently into his hands.\n\n\"sand...\" The President muttered.\n\n\"Sand, sir.\" Said Presley, stifling back a smile.\n", "\"Mister President, what I have to say may come as a shock-\"\n\"Secretary Withers! Please wait until I say you can talk before you talk,\" interjected the president. \"I'll have you know that I don't tolerate that and will find a new general to replace you if you don't show me great respect.\"\nSecretary Withers did his best to hide his exasperation at being chided by a man he considered to be more fit for the role of jester than Commander-in-Chief and nodded politely.\n\n\"You can speak now.\"\n\n\"What I have to say may come as a surprise, but a vast number of Southeast Asians have been applying for green cards in droves. They're in awe of you and dream to be in the best country in the universe. Tens of thousands of them are already in our country and several times as many are trying to get in.\"\n\n\"We need to build a bigger wall and make them pay. Mexico too. Who's next?\"\n\n\"Mr. President, they've been flying in, not cross-\" \n\n\"Did I say you could keep talking? Withers, you're off my staff. Go.\"\n\nSecretary Withers slumped back in his chair with a defeated look.\n\n\"I said go!\"\n\nWithers looked around bewildered as he pushed back his chair and stood up. He strode toward the door, a bit unsure of himself, before stepping out into the hall.\n\nNow where was I? General Allen, what did you want to brief me on?\"\n\nThe general cleared his throat and began speaking.\n\n\"China and ISIS have been forming an unlikely alliance to obliterate America. China has been programming their missiles so that no matter what destination is input the missiles will automatically override targets in or near China. We've monitored their communications with ISIS leaders, and it appears ISIS is willing to pay them Millions for working missiles so they can target the West faster.\"\n\n\"We need to stop those Muslim terrorists from destroying America. Where is the damn nuclear button?\"\n\"Mr. President, I have that information for you, but I'm not sure it's wise-\"\n\n\"General Allen?\"\n\n\"Yes Mr. President?\"\n\n\"I need the nuclear button and code now. I need to save this country and make America great again!\"\n\nAt that point General Allen realized he went too far in hoaxing the president.", "The alert popped up on General Gerald Paxton's computer monitor.\n\n15 minutes until next meeting\n\nHe casually clicked 'snooze' to buy a few more minutes to close his eyes and relax. This wasn't just any meeting, it was THE meeting. The meeting to brief the new president on all issues related to national security - both foreign and domestic. At least, that was what the media and the rest of the world believed. Regardless of the number of times he has been part of these briefings, Gerald knew they would never get any less stressful.\n\nThe sounds of knuckles rapping on the old oak door removed all hope of any peace before the storm. Before Gerald could invite his guest in, a woman already made her way to the center of the office.\n\n\"Yes, please come in Prime Minister\" Gerald said with a hint of sarcasm and a smirk on his face.\n\n\"I bloody well will 'come in' where ever I please!\" said Prime Minister Melanie Williams.\n\nThe two burst into laughter as Gerald got up from his desk to embrace an old friend. The two exchanged pleasantries before getting down to business.\n\n\"Have you seen this email going around about the details of this years meeting?\" asked Gerald. \"I swear, these people want way too much. First we can't reuse any old material, and now the bet has gotten way out of control. I mean, seriously, cars?\"\n\n\"Oh, you know how people get - especially people with power. I told you we should have never started betting on this meeting. It was all good fun until you opened your big mouth and said the person with the worst story has to buy everyone else drinks. Eight years of planning for the next briefing allows for a lot of one upping!\" Melanie threw her arms up in dismay. \"I don't want to buy any of these smug bastards a car, but there is no way in hell that I am backing down from this challenge.\"\n\n\"Oh, you will be buying me a car. I have had my eye on a new Mercedes for a while now...\" Gerald trailed off, enjoying watching his friend become unraveled at the thought. He couldn't contain his laughter when he heard Melanie mumble something about how she might get him a Smart Car if he was lucky. The the two of burst into laughter at the thought of Gerald driving a incredibly tiny car.\n\n\"But seriously, what are you going to say?\" asked Gerald.\n\n\"Wouldn't you like to know! All out of ideas? I don't think something like Bigfoot or UFOs will cut it this time.\" Melanie said.\n\n\"I'm glad you remember your embarrassing Bigfoot attempt Melanie, but I am thinking about going with a high tech charade this year. Remember the Large Hadron Collider scare I stirred up last time? I hope I will be just as convincing this time\" Gerald said as he began to make his way to the door.\n\n\"Ah yes, but I think I will win this year with my mass extinction virus. I have some pretty incredible evidence. Photo shopped of course. \" Melanie said as she followed Gerald into the hall. \"As long as those crazy bastards from NASA don't come up with another 'doomsday' comet, I have this in the bag.\"\n\n\"No matter what, I can't wait to see the Presidents face.\" Gerald said.\n", "There was a long silence, punctuated by a slow exhale and three life changing words. \"Okay. I'm ready.\"\n\nGeneral Pratt nodded firmly, ceremoniously pushing open the double doors and leading the president inside. The tense hum of voices died down almost immediately as faces grew somber at her presence. There was another long silence before she spoke up. \"Well? Give me the skinny, people. What do I need to know?\"\n\nGeneral Pratt turned to face her in the absence of a response. \"Madam President... what you're about to hear tonight is top secret. Classified data beyond all other classified data. If any of this were to get out...\" He shuffled his feet and glanced at his cohort. \"Well, suffice it to say that it can't get out.\" He turned away from her, nodding to a younger man sitting at the table. \"Jenkins, let's start with you.\"\n\n\"W-well, uh, first up I suppose we should talk about... a-about area 51, ma'am. You see, it's- uh, there are aliens there-\" a murmur ran through the room, and out of the president's earshot, more than one member of the meeting muttered disappointment with Jenkins' lackluster offering. Like a comic losing a crowd, he sputtered on without much enthusiasm until Pratt finally cut him off. \"Yes, yes- thank you, Jenkins, that was... informative. The bottom line is that yes, we've been conducting experiments on aliens at Area 51, but that's only the tip of the iceberg here, ma'am.\" In a lower voice, he confided \"You'll have to forgive the poor boy, it's his first time doing this, and he obviously isn't comfortable with the material.\" The president nodded, her expression surprisingly forgiving and understanding, perhaps due to the revelation of what Jenkins said rather than how he said it. \n\nA woman only barely Jenkins' senior stood next. Her uniform bore the surname 'Latrell'. \"I think we can all agree that aliens obviously existed. No real surprise there. But you may not have guessed that aliens aren't the only non-human intelligent life forms we're aware of, Madam.\" A few furtive looks flew between the others at the table. \"I'm talking about a smaller scale of creature. You may know them better as pixies.\" The president's eyebrows rose in a mix of surprise and skepticism. \"They're not like they were in fairy tales, madam. From our research they appear to be some kind of offshoot branch of insect that somehow developed... well, near-human levels of intelligence. They're fast, they're tiny, and they prefer to stay unseen, but those that we have captured have refused to give us any information as to their goals or roles in the ecosystem.\" Latrell sat quietly, confident in her report. The president sat back, clearly taken aback by this second piece of information. More hushed murmurs rolled back and forth across the room.\n\n\"Let's see, who wants to go next? Ah, Muller, how about you?\" An older but well groomed man stood, not in a uniform this time but in a neat grey suit. \"Yes, well, I don't know what will shock you in the... aftermath of the 'pixie' briefing, but there are certainly other important things you should know. My area of focus over the last thirty years has been Russia.\" The newly appointed president, still struggling to come to terms with Latrell's report, leaned forward eagerly. \"You see, you've been told that some of Soviet Russia's greatest leaders were dead and buried, but the truth is much more sinister. For one, Joseph Stalin is alive and well. That is, as well as one can be with a mechanical lower body. You see, he didn't die of a stroke. He was assassinated. Or rather, someone tried to assassinate him. The tissue damage was so severe that they had to cut him in half and put his torso on a sort of mechanical undercarriage. If you've seen The Clone Wars, it's kind of like that.\" \n\nA brief look of confusion crossed her face. \"The Clone... What?\"\n\nMuller continued without respite. \"That's not the worst of it. You see, when Cyborg Stalin was only a boy, he had Karl Marx cryogenically frozen. After the assassination attempt, he thawed him out and went on to build a Soviet counterpoint to the idyllic 50's America. An underground communist society, spearheaded as a collaboration between the two men (though he's more machine now than man). This secret communist sovereign nation still exists today, and we believe it is still being led by its original founders, who appear to have developed some kind of anti-aging technology thanks to the scientists who joined their secret nation.\"\n\nThe president pushed her chair back and stood, shock and fear painted across her face. \"I- I need some air, this is all too much. This is crazy. This is what Barack was talking about when he said there were things too crazy to believe? No wonder he went grey. I need to... I need to collect my thoughts. I need to tell someone about this.\" Pratt stood, his arms flailing. \"No, no, no ma'am, you cannot tell a soul about this. Not even your husband. He hasn't been updated on this information for decades.\" She shook her head, already typing up a storm on her phone. \"It's okay, he'll be the only one I tell, I just need to talk to him about this. It's okay, I'm not using The Google or anything, I've got a private email set up, so we'll be the only ones who can see it.\"" ]	6
All skills (artistic or otherwise) are now bought and sold. You have made it your mission to master, or become excellent at as many as you can without needing to buy the skills.	[WP] Skill mastery is now bought and sold, you have mastered a skill without a purchase.	[ "\"You're serious.\"\n\n\"I'm quite serious Mr. Danielson. I ask only 25,000 dollars for this.\"\n\n\"Whom did you purchase it from?\"\n\n\"No one. I taught myself.\"\n\nDanielson scoffs. \n\n\"Preposterous. No one's done that for years.\"\n\n\"Until me, yes?\"\n\nI lock my eyes with his.\n\n\"Now,\" I snap my fingers together, \"give me my 25 grand, and I'll give you the ability to cough.\"\n\n\"That sounds reasonable,\" Danielson says dreamily, and hands me 25 grand, cash.\n\nHe leaves the room, another satisfied customer.\n\n\"Next,\" I call out.\n\nA woman walks into the room.\n\n\"I'm here about purchasing the hypnotism skill?\"\n\n\"Yes. Let's negotiate.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Every time you raise your hand, a teacher comes out of nowhere to answer your question.	[ "The rooster crowed as he introduced the morning sun. My mind awoke, and I lumbered out of bed and stretched to relieve my aching muscles. Clouds of smoke soon filled my room, as Ms. Smith appeared! \"Yes, JDogg?\" she beckoned. \n\n\"M-Ms. Smith?! My 5th grade science teacher? What the hell are you doing in my room?\" I muster. \"You raised your hand, JDogg. What is your question?\" her eyes heartfelt, yearning to help. \"I was yawning. Is this a dream? Why did you appear 20 years after I had your class?\" I question.\n\n-she sighs- \"JDogg, I came here to answer your question because you had raised your hand. Don't do so in the future if you aren't prepared... much like that \"lava volcano\" of yours was for the science fair.\" she puffed as she was vacuumed back into the clouds, dissolving into the air.\n\nThat is the last time I eat pizza before going to bed. I assume my dream is over, and linger down stairs to forge. The box of Wheaties is prominent in a small notch of the kitchen counter. My arm extends to the cabinet, bowl in hand as I retract. Clouds soon fill the kitchen as Ms. Smith reappears. \n\n\"JDogg! You've finally got your Wheaties! Oh happy day, it took 20 years, but non-the less, I am pleased. Now my dear, what is your question?\" she gleamed. \n\n\"I want to know why you started randomly showing up when I raise my hand. Is this because I ate that old pizza? How do I make this stop?\" I plead.\n\n\"Well, I received news that you were signed up for the Teacher Life App. Clearly, this wasn't your doing. I'm sorry to have bothered you, JDogg.\" and just as she had appeared, Ms. Smith was gone. \n\nI waved my hands, jazzed the jazz hands and reached for the stars to see if she would be summoned. Silence. I devoured my Wheaties and went on with my day, wondering if the morning's excitement was just a hallucination or a futuristic journey.", "I looked through my visor out into the vastness of space. \n\nMy tether was sheered and I slowly began to float away from the space station. The crew looked on helplessly.\n\nThey tried the crane, but I was just a bit too far. They tried a human ladder using the crane, but it almost caused others to be in the same situation. Lassos didn't work either. They tried. \n\nAs I floated like a dust mote above a big blue world, I remembered while I was growing up, whenever I raised my hand, someone would appear and answer my questions. \n\nEither others were trained to recognize this behavior in my adult life or not, the trend continued: raise the hand with a question in mind and someone appears and answers it.\n\nI took full advantage of it too, especially as a kid. I wanted to know how everything worked. \n\n\"Why does this happen?\"\n\"What causes this?\"\n\"Who ate my Jello?\"\n\nAll answered promptly by someone I didn't know was there. \n\nIt worked this way, believe it or not, at NASA as well. While training, I'd ask my superiors or fellow scientists while raising my hand and a prompt reply would come. My question would be satiated and I'd move on to the next.\n\nI gave into curiosity at every turn in my life, so why stop now?\n\nI took a deep breath, stared into space, formed a question in my head and raised my hand.\n\n\"Holy shi-\"" ]	2
	[WP] "You're going to regret not killing me."	[ "He was staring at me. It wasn't a threatening stare. Nothing that I was afraid of. It was that kind of inquisitive, head tilted stare that someone gave when they thought you said something crazy but were too polite to say anything about it. I wondered what I had done. Before realizing that I didn't know this person. Then I wondered how he had got into my apartment. \n\nMaybe I should have been more scared. But I couldn't feel much of anything at that moment and he hadn't tried to kill me or rob me or break my legs and tell me that I owed money to anyone. At least not yet. \n\nHe was here though, and strangely, the only thing I could think to do was ask, \"How did you get in here?\" \n\nThe man opened his eyes wide, seeming to register me for the first time. He tilted his head side to side before returning to his curious gaze. \n\n\"You let me in.\" He merely said it. Unwavering, without inflection. With a sureness of being right. \n\nI was surprised. Had I done that? I didn't remember doing that. But he sounded right. Maybe he was right? But then that would mean that I'd have to know him, recognize him. Where was he from? \n\n\"How do I know you?\" I asked. \n\nHe closed his eyes to think. \" I met you after you moved to Brooklyn. After that night on 5th.\" \n\n5th street? I remember going down there to celebrate moving in. My old roommate George was there. He had a friend there--Lucia? And there were others that we picked up along the way. Mike or Mitch, the guy who did accounting. Damn, that seemed so long ago. Who could he be? I kept trying to pull at the memories. Trying to keep the blurred faces in my mind. \n\nHe opened his eyes again. I stared back into them. They were green, with a ring of light brown at the edge. They were interesting eyes. Eyes that I remembered. \n\n\"Steve?\" I asked. \n\nSteve nodded quickly. The kind of affirmation that betrayed his relief that I finally understood the situation. \n\n\"Wait, you're Steve?\" \n\nHe nodded again. \n\n\"I thought you'd look different. I don't know. More cleaned up, I guess.\" \n\nSteve smiled. \"I was 'more cleaned up' when we met. But I didn't like it all that much.\" \n\nI nodded this time. The details started to arrange themselves. Order began to take hold in my mind. I remembered. Steve the Financial Manager. I met him in the bar too. Sometime after George poured us all drinks out of his flask. I remembered. It was hazy, maybe. I was drunk at the time. But I remembered. \n\n\"So, Steve. What are you here for?\" \n\nSteve's head jerked back in surprise. He regarded me with an eyebrow quirked. \"You invited me, don't you remember?\" \n\nInvited him? No, I don't remember. Did I actually do that? I couldn't seem to remember much of what happened. \n\n\"Okay, okay. What did I invite you for?\" \n\nHe nodded. \"You invited me because you wanted to see me.\" \n\nI stared at him. There was something. A feeling, a shadow in the back of my mind that cast doubt over what he was telling me. It was telling me that I was in danger. That Steve shouldn't be here. Steve shouldn't be alive. \n\nI snapped. \"What the fuck is going on, Steve?\" \n\nHe reeled back. His face was filled with uncertainty. But something changed in him, too. He stepped forward. \n\n\"You can't even remember why you invited me?\" He yelled. \n\nI opened my mouth to speak, but Steve kept going. \"I've been busy, and I had a lot of work to do. And I put it all aside because you asked me to. I took the time to come over. And yet again, you can't even remember why you invited me in the first place.\" \n\nYet again? I couldn't remember inviting him before. I couldn't remember him being in the apartment before. I couldn't remember the Steve that showed up when I wasn't feeling right. When something went wrong. When I felt trapped in a spiraling descent. \n\nI couldn't remember the Steve that only made things worse. That taunted me. that stayed on the edges of my mind for days and weeks after I saw him. \n\nI couldn't remember Steve any other way. \n\n\"Get the fuck away from me!\" I shouted. \n\nHe just stood there, breathing hard. I could see his teeth grinding side to side. I could her the sound as they ground against each other. He wasn't going to move. I grabbed whatever was on the sink and held it up, ready to strike.\n\n\"You had your chance. When George moved out. Don't you remember that?\" \n\nGeorge was my roommate. Was. He wasn't anymore. He left, a few months ago. He told me he couldn't take it anymore. That I was on my own. I remember him giving me the rehab brochure. I remember being angry and shutting the door as he left. And I remember inviting Steve. I remember inviting him so I could try to kill him.\n\nI remembered. It was his fault. I could handle myself after the first time George let me try. I didn't bring Steve over after that first time. But at some point, he just started showing up. More and more frequently. \n\nI remembered. Steve made me late to work. Made it hard to sleep. Made me lag behind at my job. Steve got me fire. Steve ruined my life. \n\nI remembered how angry I was. My eyes watered. I had to end this. I attacked him, screaming my lungs to a pulp. \n\nSteve was faster. He swung and hit me first. I lost my balance and dropped to the tiled floor. I scrambled onto my knee and looked around. I couldn't see Steve. But I knew he was there. I could still feel him.\n\n\"You're going to regret not killing me.\" Steve said, his voice seeming to come from inside me. \n\nI pushed myself into the corner, my eyes scanning the room wildly, drawn to any rustle of the shower curtain, or wave of a towel. My white knuckles gripped the needle. If he came near me, I'd stab him. And I wouldn't stop. \n\nThe needle would protect me. The needle would be my weapon. The needle would save me. " ]	1
	[WP] Write a story that makes sense when read both forwards and backwards.	[ "This was her last mistake. \nI knew she would be trouble for me, tricking me like that. \n“It’s not what you think.” \nYea right, I know what I saw, and what I saw was despicable. \n“I didn’t love him, not like you.” \nShe lied to me; she lied to everyone, hell she even lied to the guy she was screwing! \nPreaching about love as if she knows what that is. \n“We can still love each other again, right?” \nNot anymore. \n“We can still go back to the way things were.” \nNot when you can’t trust me. \nNot when you don’t have the decency to trust anyone. \nNot when a proposal can’t go right cause your high off of your own hormones. \nDo you really expect me to love you after that? \nDo you really think I would forgive you? \nHow dumb must you be to believe that. \nBelieving that I would forget all about it in the morning. \nThat would be great for you, right? \n“We can still go back to the way things were.” \nDo you think repeating a lie would eventually make it true? \n“We can still go back to the way things were.” \nLove isn’t that easy. \n“We can still go back to the way things were.” \nI wish we could, I honestly do. \n… \nMaybe in a few days we could come back together. \nMaybe this whole situation isn’t that bad. \nMaybe all we need is some time to sort out our thoughts, deal with our problems. \n“Love is a fickle thing, it ebbs and flows.” \nMaybe this is just one of those low tides. \nMaybe it won’t last. \n“We can still go back to the way things were.” \n“We can still love each other again, right?” \nThinking back, she seemed she did really want to get back together. \nMaybe she’s feeling stupid about it right now too. \nIt must be too late now, too late to go back. \nThat was dumb of me. \nI just broke up with her. \nI screwed up. \n\n(Now read the lines from bottom to top.)" ]	1
I think I did this right, it's my first post.	[WP] You just met them for the first time and after hours of hanging out together you realize they are the perfect fit for your first murder victim.	[ "An obsession. It was more than that, more like an itch that you would scratch, but when you did would only make you want to scratch it more. The thirst for excitement, thrill. I had done it all, dived the deepest oceans, skydived from space, meditated during an active volcano explosion, but it was never enough for me, there was always something more that I wanted, that begged to be done. But I’ve done it all haven’t I, there’s nothing else. At least I thought so until I met her.\n\nShe was a stellar woman that came into my life just when I needed it. She was funny, smart, and gorgeous looking, you would think she was an actress. You wouldn’t think this because of her beauty per se, but I think she just has that movie girl look. She has that sort of pretty but fairly normal face, kinda like the ones you see screaming in horror movies. It only took me a couple of hours with her to realize this woman was the one. She would be my destiny, my excitement, my thrill. She would be my first murder victim.\n\nIt was obvious that murder was the only place to go next. I mean getting away with murder must be pretty high up there in terms of thrill, you were basically putting your life on the line to put another person’s life on the line. Absolutely riveting. Of course getting away with murder is no easy feat, as many inmates would probably tell you, but I’m different than those men. I have the nerves and the will to do it with no mistakes. Living a life of danger doesn’t allow mistakes; one small misstep in my lifetime would have ended my joyride long ago. I would plan this out perfectly, giving care to every small detail of every step in my plan. Backup plans upon backup plans would safety net me in every possible situation. This was strange of me as usually safety nets would turn me off of most thrills, but here I had finally met my match as to something terrifyingly dangerous, and I would definitely want to murder again. After weeks of planning my plan was complete, the perfect murder realized. All I had to do was carry it out.\n\nIt was the day of and she had come to the murder scene as expected, everything was going as planned, but then I had a strange feeling. A churning in my stomach and a lightness in the head worried me, and I thought I had contracted a disease on the day of. Then I thought that maybe this was the sensation of fear. Fear? I have never been afraid of anything in my life, and now a single woman is going to make me afraid? Ridiculous. Anyways, I had come prepared for a surprise disease, and I downed some special pills that would negate most symptoms of most diseases for a couple hours, just until the murder was complete and I had taken care of the murder weapon and other evidence. Of course the murder weapon was obviously a knife, as what better way to gain the thrill of murder than to stab a person right in front of you as disbelief and shock fades from their face and as blood flows from their body. The time was coming up for me to do the deed, and as she was in position I raised the knife. Heart pumping, excitement building, my body was ready, and I went in quickly to slice her throat, an easy and quick kill, and just as I was about to pull the trigger, a pain erupts from my chest. I look down and through the blood and ripped fabric I notice a hole near my heart. That bitch shot me. As I wonder what I did wrong and my mind fades to black, she whispers into my ears. \n“You were my first too, so thank you.”\n" ]	1
	[WP] The hero has just slain the villain, and has retired to the tavern. You're the tavern's bard, and you really hate the hero's guts.	[ "Another great victory for General Agelnar, and he'd be to the inn soon enough. The small town of Tuluon had just the one, and a select group would arrive shortly. The foot soldiers, the front line, a few chosen among them as was tradition for Agelnar, saying he knew his banner-men and lieutenants already, in victory he'd know the common soldier. What a carefully calculated appeasement, but Jaim had prepared.\n\nSooner than expected, the soldiers and their ever-victorious general burst in. Cries of “The day is won” and “Glory upon House Agelnar” met them, and they smiled and shook hands with the soldiers. But all the common folk truly waited for their glorious general. It was in the heat of battle he had made it to the Blood Horde's Harbinger, and took his head. In he walked, the cheers rose to a roar, as much as the small town could supply. Jaim readied his lute and sneered at floor so he wouldn't be seen. He would have to wait while Agelnar preened and these fools fawned.\n\nJaim played in the background, a few classic pieces went mostly unnoticed, but eventually the crowd heard and appreciated, and requests came in while the general and his soldiers told jokes and sometimes sang along. But then they began stories of the battle, and Jaim knew that just wouldn't do, so he took his chance at a lull and broke in. “If I may, my good men, I have heard and even seen a few battles with General Agelnar at the lead, and I certainly saw the victory today.” Cheers he wanted to snarl at were lifted up, and he endured. “I have composed a poem and accompaniment for the occasion, if you'll allow?” They laughed, said he had been good so far into the night, said they like to hear a bard's tale of themselves. Jaim smiled, settled himself in front of the crowd with the hated general at the center and began. He let the lute march along with his words, the precursor to a great battle.\n\nThe Army of Light arrived to the field, \nAwash in the glow of the dawn, \nTo find an evil which refused to yield, \nGrass littered with the Horde's spawn. \n\nWithout a doubt, today would bring blood, \nBut Agelnar, solid as oak, \n Would let the grounds turn to red mud, \nSo long as none splashed on his cloak. \n\nJaim was letting discord into the lute now, and though a few confused glances shot around, and Agelmars eyes tightened, they were caught in the music's spell. He continued.\n\nHe ordered the charge of footmen and then, \nYelled “Kill the rotters!”, \nTurning aside to his banner-men, \n“We must inspire the fodder.”\n\nThe lute almost hurt the ears now, and they couldn't break away. Jaim saw the hate growing, felt it.\n\nSo the day was won, the sacrifice made, \nThe horrid Harbinger killed by a man. \nThe General and cavalry giving no aid, \nCould it really have been by his hand?\n\nHe drinks and laughs, but with you or at? \nThe histories are his to edit. \nThe “common soldier”, the dog gets his pat. \n And Great Agelnar will take the credit.\n\n\n\n\nJaim, slipped out, his work done. He heard Agelnar yelling at his men and townspeople, ordering them away, then pleading. “You know that's not how it was! Lewen, it's me, God man you were there when I killed him!” Jaim was in rapture; an eye for an eye, and the Horde would blind the world.\n", "Here he comes I thought, \"Athrik the noble, The saviour of light.\" Bastard. Everyone thought that he was some sort of heaven sent saviour, its been like that since we were children, he'd always outshine everyone because he was the Barron's son and has his father's self righteous attitude; I doubted he would remember me even if I didn't have my hood up, that's what made it so much sweeter.\n\nHe'd been bragging about his plans to try and take on the guild; he was the the only man who doesn't fear the guild and, for that, he's a fool. The guild have always been a cause for fear in hearts of men and this dolt thinks he can fight against us and he's been inspiring the people to leave their fear of us behind them; the order came in from The Master a few days ago, \"remind them of just who we are.\" and that meant \"make it clear.\"\n\n\"Bard!\" The giant git roared, \"fetch me another drink and then play me something... befitting a hero upon his great victory,\" he demanded, prompting a round of giggles from the maidens sat with him. I nodded and gave him a mock smile before passing him the flaggon of Ale, plus a little gift from the guild and began to play a personal favourite of mine.\n\n\"Is that...\"\n\n\"The danse macarbe?\" I finished for him, \"yes.\"\n\n\"I said something fitting, idiot!\"\n\n\"Oh,\" I grinned, \"this is very fitting,\" I assured him.\n\n\"How isss thhaaaat....\" he collapsed, the once tittering maidens now panicking and the other patrons wide eyed and silent as they realised what had just happened.\n\n\"A hero slain upon his day of triumph,\" I remarked, \"now what do you think will happen to all of you if this talk of resistance carries on? Hm? How many do we need to kill before you get the message? If you're smart, this will be the only warning needed.\n\nI left the tavern knowing that it would be a long, long time before any more potential insubordination from the people began again.", "The hero smiled uncontrollably and took a swig of his drink. The Bard, with just the opposite countenance handed him the bill. The hero, annoyed with the Bard's constant disrespect towards him, said\n\n\"What's up with all the disrespect? I'm the hero of this story! Treat me as such!\"\n\nThe Bard smiled and said, \"You don't understand, do you? I am treating you like the hero!\"\n\nThe hero laughed and said, \"Oh really, because last time I checked, you, not once, have EVER, EVER, Eve...\" At this point the hero started convulsing and trembling and fell to the ground, screaming a gargled version of the word help at the Bard. Smiling, the Bard said,\n\n\"I'm treating you like the hero, because I'm the villain.\" " ]	3
	[WP] You are working a late night shift at the drive through cash register when you hear a familiar voice from your headset. You tell them their money due, but when they drive to the window you are staring at yourself. They say. . .	[ "\"Employee discount?\"\n\n\"Funny. The smart ones impersonate my manager.\" I leaned against the window between us and tapped my finger against the metal tray at the base. \"Now are you going to pay, or what?\"\n\nThe shape-shifter frowned sharply and melted back to their otherwise faceless look. They rummaged around their cheap SUV, flinging crumbs aside as they scrounged. \"How's this?\"\n\nThey popped back up with the President's face, showing just how foreign they were by giving him a beard, and the wrong gender. I scratched my cheek and stared lazily. The buzzing of the lights outside was starting to annoy. \"Ten-fifty-two.\"\n\nOnce again the face melted off the shifter and he held out a pair of bills. The odd way their faces moved while they were uncovered always managed to unsettle me. Like teeth clawing through clingwrap. \"Really taking the fun out of this.\"\n\n\"It's not even three. I'm going to have the vampirics here in an hour, and god knows what else looming around until sun's up.\" I handed the shifter their food and change. \"Good night sir.\"\n\nThe shifter shrugged and changed to a bearded actor. \"Sorry, just trying to lighten up the night.\" They drove off in a few seconds and I closed the window.\n\nI mulled over the bearded face. \"I wonder if that was actually him.\" I pulled my phone out and looked him up. \"Oh, totally would have given him a discount.\" I closed my phone and went back to taking orders. \"Never met someone from Hollywood.\"" ]	1
	[WP] The fire burned memories away.	[ "Aster laid in wait, an automatic rifle in her trembling fingers, doused with gasoline, and a matchbox at her pocket. It wasn't much compared to what others had in this war, but she didn't have anybody else. She laid in wait on the rooftop, the cold stinging and biting, but her fear and hate was much colder. \n\nIt had been 20 years. Aster was four when the sirens rang, when everybody scuttled back and locked their doors and barricaded their windows. She knew what to do, this had happened dozens of times before. \n\nHer father was shouting, ushering them to be faster. He dashed to fetch their weapons. Their lunch, plain porridge, was left to the flies. \n\nHer mother and 10 year old brother grabbed their gas masks, also a few more for her and her father and for spare. Outside, the gunshots started, coupled with roars of men and screams of terror from the others. They hid themselves into their bunker, a shoddy wooden box with peepholes camouflaged among the many crates.\n\nOutside, the motors that hurt their ears cut off the rays of sun peeking through their windows. Her mother said her silent prayers, but it was too late, the soldiers broke into the building, rifles poised.\n\nReal fear engulfed little Aster's heart, this was the time when the soldiers entered her house. No practice would have prepared her. \n\nAster tried to hold back her tears - crying would make a sound. She prayed too, for her father's safe return. He would join them once he got his pistol, just in case the evil soldiers managed to find them, he would shoot. But of course, it was too late. \n\nHer mother was crying, trying to swallow her fear as her father marched, hands on his head, guns pointed at him. \n\nAster would remember those words all her life. A soldier, gun pointed at her father's face, put a small radio to his ears, and nonchalantly he spoke. \"Sir, we've caught a man in Section 13. He seems unarmed. What shall we do-\"\n \nHe listened intently to the radio. \n\n\"Commander, are you sure, this is against our oaths.\" \n\nThe family did not breathe. \n\n\"But commander-\"\n\nAster's mother was on the brink of breaking. Her brother was hugging her, and her fingers bled where she bit it to distract herself from crying out.\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nThe gunshot echoed in her mind. Her mother dashed to her dead husband's side, amidst the guns pointing now at her, crying, grieving. The radio buzzed something inaudible, and the second shot rang.\n\nAster's scream ended in her innocent cries. And the soldiers opened the crate door, with their nonchalant smiles. \n\nThey took her brother, trying to refuse a tear from dropping. He stood straight to the soldiers' mocks, his pursed lips shaking. \n\nThey shot him too. And they left, with some last glares to Aster. \n\nThe sun had set and risen before she was found by her neighbours, unemotional, unresponsive, leaving a mark of her on the floor and wall, where the dust did not settle. \n\nShe was back to the present. The soldiers were on the way, their headlamps wobbling in the midst of night. Their cars had gotten more armored, more advanced, unlike the last time she saw them.\n\nAster had joined a group that promised to train her. That was what she asked for. \n\nThe shooting range was filled with young children about her age. But most of them were crybabies. She was different. She was brave.\n\nThe instructor adjusted her posture, and the children fired. She unearthed the memory of that damned soldier 8 years ago. It was crystal clear, his grinning teeth, mocking her, giving her nightmares every time she closed her eyes. \n\nShe hit right between his eyes, and she shot more, furiously, unendingly. The instructor yelled at her to stop, but how could she stop?\n\nThe target, a flag of many stars and stripes, was now battered with holes. The instructors were yelling at her, grabbing her from the back but she screamed and shot her gun everywhere. It was the first time she felt she could make a change for the better. \n\nShe left the shooting range, knowing she would be beaten and whipped for weeks. But it was worth it, seeing that damned flag get reduced to worthless shit.\n\nBehind her, a boy lay dead, his blood sinking into the sand.\n\nThat flag deserved it, just like the flag on the trucks now. It was the same thing, just reversed, as now, she held the power. Aster, herself, held the power. She could make the choices, finally. \n\nIt wasn't her fault that all her seniors lay dead. They had prohibited her from her goals. She wanted to attack the soldiers, but they wouldn't let her.\n\nA machete and was all she'd needed to slaughter the whole team. It had been another 8 long years of killing and beheading the people of those dreaded soldiers. They deserved it, for what they done, they deserved a lot more than death. \n\nThey had promoted her to train the young children, but her temper and skill soon made her second-in-command of her batch. There was only one person above her, and when she demanded to launch an attack on the enemy one day, \"It's not the right time,\" was what he said. \n\nThere had been no one to test her combat skills with - they couldn't match her - but she was disappointed they couldn't match her too. She killed them, all of them, and escaped, stealing a motorbike, weapons and her well-earned power. The other weaklings would wake up and look at all their leaders, weak leaders, drenched in blood.\n\nAnd now, the years had prepared her for this moment. She opened fire, catching all the soldiers by surprise. Dozens of them were dead before they even realized where she was. \n\nIt was satisfying, so satisfying, seeing them cower in fear like she had been. But soon the soldiers, had arrived at the rooftops and meeting her and her machete, the one used years ago. \n\nBut it was one vs many. The soldiers shot her arm, but she would not scream anymore. They had failed to realize the place was filled with gasoline. \n\nThe inferno engulfed everyone. Some would made it out alive, but not her. It didn't matter anymore. All those years, the trauma, the beating, the torture, the abuse, the hate, it had led to this. The fire burned those memories away.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "Martin had been caught. He'd made a mistake, the corp had caught him and now he was tied down to an operating table and he was painfully aware of what was to follow: \"The Fire.\" Martin tried in vain to break the restraints, he knew it was futile but he felt that he might as well try.\n\n\"You went looking where you shouldn't, Martin,\" a suited figure said from the shadows. \"You learned company secrets: top secret projects, R&D files, employee records, the K-14 incident to name but a few; to be honest with you, I'm quite impressed that you managed to make it as far into our network as you did,\" the figure remarked.\n\n\"Fuck you!\" Martin spat as a medical droid approached with a temporal jack in its hand, he knew exactly how this was going to end. Martin tried again desperately to free himself but it was inevitable, the jack was plugged into his temporal port and The Fire began its work. He screamed in agony as the virus erased every shred of information about his identity and what he knew that it came across from his brain, severing neural pathways and re-shaping regions of his brain in the process; Martin only lasted a few moments before blacking out from the pain. When he awoke, he was slumped in a rain soaked alleyway with no idea where or even who he was and why he was there, he made his way to the neon lit main street and wandered off into the night, attempting to remember anything; such was the risk for joining the fight against the corporations, if they caught you, they could erase you completely.", "Quince Lane tossed the match into the waiting gasoline and stood back as the sudden flare threatened to burn him. The flame ate at the silver slick, a glistening line that led all the way up to the grubby trailer. Quince took two steps back, almost tripped over scrub brush because he couldn't take his eyes off the fire. \n\n\nOnce, when he'd been six or seven years old, there'd been a barbecue down on a piece of land owned by the Fairlys. Quince's dad and others had loaded a pyre six feet high and tossed the match from too close. That guy's eyebrows had never grown back, but Quince remembered watching the fire lick at the dry wood till his eyes felt dry from the heat. \n\n\nThe trailer didn't burn like the pyre did. Metal sides crumpled with the sudden heat, sucked inwards by the vacuum. The Perspex windows buckled, but wouldn't shatter just yet. Black scorch marks tailed up towards the roof and the smoke that leaked from the flames was acrid and bitter. The alarm would go up soon.\n\n\nQuince knew he couldn't stay and watch forever. The wood restraints he'd knocked beneath the doors of the trailer would burn away, though he knew the smoke would overcome her before she ever got to the exit. He felt his face grow hot. His car, the engine idling, waited beneath a tall pine. He wanted to be away before the screaming started, if there was going to be any. \n\n\n\nThe fire burned those memories away: of a five year marriage that was bound to end in acrimony. On the surface, there were no assets but the trailer. Below that, there were a lot more. Things that didn't need to come out if the divorce went to court. Quince stepped away from the burning trailer. Now the metal struts showed, gleaming like bones through the roof. \n\n\nHe got into his car and turned the key, thinking he should have got a four wheel drive for the rough path out of the forest. The suspension held; the trailer burned in his rear view mirror. No screaming, yet. Quince's secrets stayed safe. He placed a call to the Sherriff's office, calmly let them know about smoke rising from the woods. A sleepy telephone operator promised to send a dispatcher out. \n\n\n\nQuince knew there wouldn't be one till mid-morning. He'd be over state lines by then. \n\n\n\nBut he placed a second call all the same. Kel Brady didn't like mornings much, but when he answered the phone Quince knew he'd been up all night. His voice had an alcoholic bruise in it, and Quince imagined him at his desk with a rattling bottle of vodka.\n\n\n\n\"Just letting you know,\" Quince said steadily. \"I might need a lawyer in the future.\"\n\n\n\n\"You divorcing Marie?\" Kel had been waiting for it for years. Only Kel and Marie knew the true value of Quince's assets. \n\n\n\n\"Something else,\" Quince said. \"I won't say over the phone. Can you do breakfast?\"\n\n\nThe smell of black smoke clung to Quince's clothes. A change waited in the trunk of the car.\n\n\n\"Sure,\" Kel said slowly. \"But you're buying.\"\n\n\n\"Always do,\" Quince grinned and hung up. His morning forgotten, memories fading into flame, trapped in a burning trailer in the woods. " ]	3
	[WP] You're on a 2800 mile road trip from LA to NYC. The only catch is that your car is a time machine, and every mile you drive advances time by one year.	[ "Weird. I only just began my roundtrip and had planned to stop by Vegas on my way through. That may be an issue now seeing how the 15 highway just up and disappeared. I’ve made the drive from California to Vegas several times growing up so I’m sure I didn’t take a wrong turn. Hell, there is no wrong turn to make. Usually, you just coast down the highway until Vegas pops up.\n\nIt wasn’t just the missing highway that has me at a loss, as there was a distinct lack of civilization along where the road would normally be. I mean sure, the expansive desert between LA and Vegas is sparsely populated, but what happened to the small towns and gas stations appearing every few stops? I wanted to stop by Baker on my way to Vegas and take a picture of the world’s largest thermometer, but it seems that may not be there as well.\n\nThis is where my problem really comes in. I’m out of gas and there are no gas stations or people here to help. It’s as if driving 150 miles from LA has transported me to a time before cars or readily available gasoline in the middle of the uninhabited desert doesn’t exists yet. I was really excited to make it the full 2800 miles to New York, but it seems I won’t even make the 270 miles to Vegas.\n\nI tried calling for help, but my phone doesn’t have any service out here in the desert. The coverage has always been a little spotty, but this is ridiculous. I mean there isn’t even a single radio single being picked up by my car. It’s as if all of civilization packed up and left me to die here in the desert.\n\nPerhaps I’m just going mad. I mean I have been out in the grueling sun with no water for the past 10 hours. I stood atop my car to look around, but I couldn’t see anything beyond the horizon. I’ve opted to laying beneath the car for shade, just hoping to make it till the night.\n\nI’m not sure what I’ll do. I have no skills for living in the wild. I fear I may die.\n\n…\n\nAbout 60 years later a Jeep Liberty was discovered in the middle of the desert by some of the first settlers of the region. The car was recovered and sent for study in New York. Scientists couldn’t believe such a contraption exists and it became the object of much mystery for mankind over the years. Though this vehicle drastically improved the early models of automobiles, many have questioned the car’s very existence. Some conspiracy theorist even claim it was the result of Aliens. Some argue it was from time travel, a theory with much weight as several markings and paperwork found had dates such as 2016 written upon it.\n\nNo one knew how or why the car was there, but the trip to New York was completed either way. It wasn’t until two scientist tried driving the refurbished car from New York to LA that the cycle began again. \n" ]	1
	[WP] You alone had the power to stop the apocalypse. Tell the story of why you chose to let it happen.	[ "\"Observe and Protect. Do not give them any advantage, only watch and do as they do.\" \n\nAnd so I did.\n\nI adapted their form and watched with pride as they learned to walk. My 'heart' soared as their primitive forms learned to craft tools. I felt joy when they worked together to form a community of hunters and gatherers. \n\nI would mourn for those that died in their petty tribal wars but celebrate and dance with them as they would unify their tribes and make peace. \n\nI remember the first time I experienced 'worry'. Instead of hunting together, they started trading things for labor. The day I stopped feeling 'proud' for these creatures is the day they uttered the word, \"currency\".\n\nAfter that, their communal goals were diminished and the 'governing power' they put in place created a world fueled by personal greed and self interest. \n\nIn a time where I should have smiled as they harnessed electrical currents I frowned instead, knowing the resource would be used only to further their greed.\n\nI never saw the flash of the weaponized atomic shell they dropped on themselves, but I felt every soul scream out together as one and then become silent for eternity.\n\nEach culture I would visit would show promise but soon, they found a way to become connected to all other cultures and like a plague their greed and lust for power would contaminate the minds with 'products' and 'services' for sale.\n\n\"Observe and Protect\" I had done plenty to observe and made attempts to protect but I was never prepared to combat their desire for wealth.\n\nAs they mass-produced 'automobiles' and turned the planet they lived on into a source for more income... what could I do to stop it?\n\nI watched global temperatures rise and tried to warn them all of the consequences of their actions. \n\nBut I was dismissed and ignored. For 'years' and 'generations' of their offspring I tried but they would 'roll their eyes' and continue to poison their planet. \n\nI could cleanse this world of its corruption and end the lives of those that seek only to profit from this worlds destruction, but more would rise to claim their fortunes and further the damage to an already burned out ecosystem.\n\nI conclude this report to say that the faith I had in this star system to one day join us was regrettably misplaced. \n\nTheir is nothing more we can do for the world of man.", "Sitting in the park, just looking at the people going about their business. You feel a tinge of sadness and remorse, but only for a second. it's not that you agreed with what John did \"guy is a fucking nut-job\" but there was almost a poetry to what he said as he walked out of the office for the last time.\n\n \"worlds got to be saved Steve, people are killing it. oceans are unfit for life in most areas of the globe. world wide hunger and famine. our governments only interested in more war and more oil. working till the day we die and still owing for our existence. as a race, we fucked up and we are one of a very few planets that can harbor our kind of life. Maybe we can start again with the survivors.\" \n\nAnd just like that, he was gone. I knew what he did, I could see him on the security screen. I just did not figure it out until he left. He took the sample from the viral contagion vault. the one marked \"ELE\". The reset button so to speak. a virus that will wipe out 95% of humanity. A virus so violent that it only takes hours to kill and is almost unnoticeable. Just a heart attack. and dead. \n\ndrop. drop. drop. drop. drop. drop. drop. drop. drop. You start to see people succumbing to the virus. Drop. Drop. Drop. Central Park really was the perfect place to watch this. Drop. " ]	2

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