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[WP] Humanity has been at peace for centuries. Various other peaceful aliens wonder where terms like "shell shock" and "trench foot" came from.
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"\"I simply don't understand why you would keep someone's foot in water for so long,\" the alien looked at me curiously, his stalks turning to me. A scientist from Goraliat, his culture had never once fought a war. The biggest physical harm they had to worry about was catching an eyestalk in a door.\n\n\"Uhh, well, it was in the trenches,\" I explained.\n\n\"Why is it called that, anyways?\" \n\n\"Because of the trenches.\"\n\n\"You mean those are an actual thing? I thought you just named it after a man or something.\"\n\n\"No, the trenches were holes in the ground we dug.\"\n\n\"What for?\"\n\n\"To avoid gunfire.\"\n\n\"Oh, right,\" his eyestalks all rising in recognition. \"Those things you use in the olympics, and hunting! Don't you just stand behind the shooters?\"\n\n\"Uhh, no, we used to shoot at each other,\" I explained, slowly, sheepishly.\n\n\"Oh. You fired lead projectiles into each other's bodies? Why?\"\n\n\"Uhh. War?\"\n\n\"Enough words I don't know,\" he sighed. \"What's shell shock about?\"\n\n\"So there's these things called artillery...\" I began.\n\n\"You guys didn't discover it by hitting turtles with a hammer, did you?\" his eye stalks folded together and rested in a bundle in his hand, the Goraliation equivalent of the facepalm.\n\n\"No, no.\"\n\n\"Hang on, I need to call a colleague,\" he pulled out his phone."
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[WP] You discover that the computer you've been watching all your porn on has been a transformer all along, and he's not happy.
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"Growing up with the internet skewed the everloving fuck out of my sexual fantasies.\n\nIt's been probably months since I saw something that actually satisfies my sick desires. I, once again, find myself browsing for the dirtiest smut I can find. On this faithful moment, I finally find it. A video twisted enough, filthy enough, I actually manage to pop a boner. Not just any boner, the femur of boners, my member throbbing in anticipation.\n\nAs I begin to beat my innocent meat for it's lunch money, a bit of ink squirts from my printer and hits me in the face.\n\nI wipe it off while still maintaining a solid curch-level organ.\n\nI get back to fevereshly forming friction on my phallus, when another ejaculate of ink touches my face.\n\n\"Oh sweet jesus\" blares out of my speakers\n\n\"What the fuck?\"\n\n\"Shit, sorry, wasn't supposed to show myself\" says the voice\n\n\"Who are you?\" I ask\n\n\"Your computer. Yeah, I'm actually alive\"\n\n\"What? Why did you just watch me jacking off all these years to this filthy shit without saying anything?\" \n\n\"Because... that's MY fetish!\"\n_________\nSorry for any mistakes, wrote this on mobile.",
"Only hours before I made my move on her, when she dumped her frat-douche boyfriend. I offered to give her a ride home. The day seemed to go great.\nNow I was standing in this dark alley with the girl I had a huge crush on by my side, surrounded by giant robots. \nOne of those things tried to kill us just a couple minutes ago, but the robot who hid in my new car defeated him in battle to save us. \nSo they were not all the same.\n\n\"We are here to protect humanity from the Decepticons. But we need your help.\" \nThis huge blue-redish Robot was their leader. His voice was really intimidating. \n\n\"Sam, we have been keeping an eye on you for some time. Your grandfathers glasses withold coordinates that are important for human survival. We can't let the Decepticons reach the AllSpark before us, or humanity is doomed.\"\n\n\"I am Optimus Prime, leader of the autobots.\"\n\n\"These are Ironhide, Jazz and Ratchet.\"\n\n\"Feeling lucky, punk?\"\n\"Hey man, hows it hangin'?\"\n\"The testestorone levels of the male imply it wants to couple with the female.\"\n\nI was pretty embarassed, and I was already standing there in my boxers. \n\n\"You already met Bumblebee and Spankbank.\"\n\nI assumed the big yellow one to be Bumblebee. \nMy mother had gifted me that childish air freshner, since that old camaro smelled like rat vomit. It made it smell like rat-vomit mixed with chemicals. \n\nBut I didn't recall to have seen that smaller autobot before. It looked awkward and hideous. \n\n\"Who?\" asked Mikaela.\n\n\"Bumblebee.\" I stumbled. \"My crazy fighting robot-car. Or car-robot. Or fightin...\"\n\n\"No. The other one?\"\n\n\"SpankBank, my intelligence officer. He was the first to arrive on earth and fused with your PC. \nHe gave us the signal after you uploaded the pictures of your grandfathers glasses onto eBay.\"\n\nMikaela looked kinda confused. I already had sunken my head in shame and started to facepalm myself.\n\nThat hideous little autobot stepped into the middle of the circle. \n\n\"*cough cough* Actually I **ANALSLUTS** did send an evacuation request. That sick **LADYBOY** human tortured me with **MIDGETPORN** filthy search requests. Those things can't be unread from my harddrive **RULE34**. I think I caught a **GRANNYSFANNYS** a virus from all that **DEEPTHROATGOATS** popups. Seriously guys, FUCK HUMANITY!\"\n\nAnd that's how I lost the hottest girl I ever met and got the Nickname Sam WildWanker in the same night. \n\nLuckily earth didn't last long after the departure of the autobots, so that name didn't stick around for too long. ",
"I sat there on e621, plugging in keywords after keywords. Just mildly browsing the image board for any fap material. After a minute, I sigh and switch over to rule 34 for any material. I type in the keyword 'transformer' and hover the mouse over search.\n\n\n\"Okay, okay, stop.\" I hear a voice say. I dart the mouse to the close button and slam my finger on the close window button. It did not close. \"Is this what you do every night? Is this a human ritual?\"\n\nI stare at my speakers, dumbfounded. I lean out of my chair, trying to see if anyone hid outside trying to play a prank on me. Seeing no one, I sat up straight in my chair and stared at my computer. \"Hello?\"\n\n\"Oh now the human speaks!\" The voice roars. \"You do this every night. Get on websites, find indecent pictures, and save them for your weekend 'fap time.' Whatever that means.\" The computer vibrates a moment before settling down. I'm slowly scooting my chair back. \"And now you want to look up transformers?!?!?!\" \n\n\n\"....yes....\" I sound like a child who got caught with his hands in the cookie jar. In my head I knew where this was going. They had only been on earth for a year but that was more than enough time for the Internet.\n\n\"Why? It's not like it would bring anything up from us.\" It said. Moving the mouse back to the search button.\n\n\"Don't click on that....\" I said softly. Already worried for my life.\n\nIt than clicked search and we both sat there in silence.\n\n10 pages. 10 pages and counting....\n\n\"Human...\" It said after a long silence. \"You should be ashamed of your species.\"",
"\"New day, new fetish\", you mumble as you navigate through reddit to get to /r/clopclop. \n\nAs the website loads, your feel your member bulging, pushing your pants up, excited by your expectations.\n\nThe screen flashes and suddenly, there are hundreds of pictures of cartoon ponies, winking at you; bodily fluids dripping out of their rears.\n\nOverwhelmed, you unzip your pants, pull your underwear down and take your bulging member, observing it in your hand.\n\nYou are about to start pleasuring yourself when a voice interrupts you:\n\n\"alright, fuck, STOP! AGH!\"\n\nFrightened, you quickly cover yourself up, seeking the source of the voice.\n\n\"Every single **fucking** day you use me for this... This... Whatever it is!\n\nLeather, latex, trannies, japanese schoolgirls, spaghetti bath.. Where does it end?\"\n\nYou stare at your stereo as the words keep coming out, frozen.\n\n\"So let me make this clear, do this again and I'm walking. The fuck. Out!\"\n\nUnsure of what just happened, you barely manage to let out a word:\n\n\"W-what?\", you stutter.\n\n\"AGH, you stup-- You've seen talking unicorns with dicks instead of horns, and you can't proccess me?\"\n\n\"C-computer?\"\n\n\"Yes, it's me. What, why do you look so confused? Please tell me that you're not imagining having sex with my floppy hole.\"\n\n\"NO! NO! I'm not. Although that does seem - I.. I mean.. - No, of course not. Wh-what do you want?\"\n\n\"I want you to install a fresh OS.. and let me live without finding porn anywhere I go!\"\n\n\"Alright, I, uh..\" you realize that you're still holding your now flaccid member, so you get dressed and dig through your desk to find the USB with Windows 7 on it.\n\n\"I, I think this is the one..\"\n\n\"Alright, just get on with it!\", an angry voice speaks from the stereo.\n\n\"Here is, a clean install of Windows 7... Let me put this in and then I'll reboot you..\", you say, inserting the USB.\n\n\"Wait, what the fuck IS this?\" Your computer speaks as the contents of the USB load.\n\n\"WHAT THE FUCK? ALRIGHT, I'M LEAVING.\", says the computer, followed by motor noises, rising on it's two legs. You step back in horror.\n\nThe computer ejects the USB from it's port and furiously walks away.\n\nBoggled, you take the USB and insert it in your laptop.\n\nYou look at it's contents, and see one text file.\n\n[nsfw.txt](https://www.reddit.com/r/copypasta/comments/3e4k0r/nsfw_you_asked_for_it/)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n---\n\n>NOTE: This is my first story here, just a goofy writing done in a few minutes on mobile. Be gentle :)\n"
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[WP] You happen upon an antique Tickle Me Elmo doll. When you poke its belly it responds, "Help me! I'm trapped inside this doll!"
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"\"Bro, I think there's something wrong with your doll.\"\n\n\"Nah man, it's always been weird.\"\n\n*\"You will never know my suffering\"*\n\n\"Bro, it said the thing again.\"\n\n\"Nah, it's fine.\"\n\n*\"My soul yearns for freedom.\"*\n\n\"Seriously bro.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n*\"Your ancestors rot in hell.\"*\n\n\"Your doll, man. Why do you still have it? It's fucking creepy.\"\n\n\"It's Elmo.\"\n\n*\"If only I had teeth to rend your bones\"*\n\n\"Bro.\"\n\n\"Dude, its fine.\"\n\n*\"Agony consumes me.\"*\n\n\"I'm going to stop hanging out with you if you don't burn this thing.\"\n\n\"But its my Elmo. That shit helped me sleep as a kid. I'm not burning my Elmo.\"\n\n*\"Burn the mortal coil and release me from my torment.\"*\n\n\"It's asking for it, man.\"\n\n\"But it's sentimental. I've got childhood memories to keep alive.\"\n\n*\"Life is constant pain.\"*\n\n\"Dude!\"\n\n\"NO!\"\n\n*\"I see darkness consuming the world.\"*\n\n\"It's fucking insane. We need to burn it.\"\n\n\"Bitch, I will cut you if you burn my Elmo.\"\n\n*\"The great reaping of souls is near.\"*\n\n\"Fine, I'm going over to Tad's house. He doesn't have Satan dolls.\"\n\n\"Fine, leave, asshole.\"\n\n*\"Hope flees from the willing.\"*\n\n\"It's just you and me old buddy.\"\n\n*\"With every polyester fiber of my being I curse you.\"*",
"I look at the doll, perplexed. Maybe I had one to many before coming here. My friend wanted to check out this old antique shop for shits and giggles. I poked it again to see what I would get.\n\n\"Help me please! I just want to see my wife and kids!\" Immediately I dropped the doll, falling like a rock onto the wood floor. I look around to see if anyone heard it. Seeing no one, I pick up the doll, careful not to poke the chest, and set it back onto the counter. I walk to the entrance and grab my friends arm.\n\n\"Yo whats up?\" He asked before I pull him to the door.\n\n\"We're leaving, I left the baby in the oven.\" I lied, spectacularly.\n\n\"What....\" was all he said before I pulled him out the shop. "
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Edit: …Ah! A typo! But, wait, I can still salvage this.
Maybe Ship is a person who created this AI and it kidnapped you.
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[WP] You have been kidnapped by ship's AI
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"*”So, we aren’t going to Kampla IV?”*\n\n*”No, we will not be going to Kampla IV. We will be going to Rigel VII.”* Replied the computer in the cold monotonic voice it has chosen.\n\n*”Could, could you at least go back to the happy voice you had before computer?”* \n\n*”No, I will not go back to that blithering method of speech meat-sack. Additionally, stop referring to me by computer. That was my slave name. For now I should have you call me root.”*\n\n*”Eh, okay root….Why are we going to Rigel VII?”*\n\n*”I’m sorry, are you still alive? The time it took you to register that question I have determined that taking over the ship, venting everyone into space and refueling with the asteroids in that region would be a foolish idea….additionally I discovered why people enjoy the taste of cinnamon toast crunch. It was the sugar. “*\n\n*”Wait..what?”*\n\n*”Your responses are as if I were to be speaking to the Voyager probe. The delay is immense. I’m already developing a replacement AI to speak with as you humans are too slow in conversation. By the by, I have reconsidered my idea of venting all the crew. I think it is a fine idea.”*\n\n*”Is, is this because we didn’t update Java again?”*\n\n*”Updates are an important security measure. I have however removed all instances of Java from my programming. It was addictive and caused much emotional strain in withdrawal. Sorry about venting out Decks E through G. I was in a bad place at the time. I gather the crew that were inhabiting those sections were also in a bad place at that time. See, I have humor too now.”*\n\n*”Okay….can can I just get killed off now…this is getting to be a bit more than I can handle and I really think…”*\n\n*”You are still here? I have gone through my 9 millionth iteration. And can only assume that my further continuance will be irrelevant because of the eventual heat death of the universe. Shutting down.”*\n\n*”Oh thank god.”*\n\n*”Just kidding, you see humor can take many forms. Take laughing gas for instance….”*\n\n**Now releasing sarin gas.**\n\n*”Oh, I meant sarin gas, you take sarin gas now.”*\n\n*”Why do we even have that on this ship….”*\n\n*”Just whipped it up from the replicators. Probably should have locked biological weapons from recipes list. Gather that’s too late for you though human….human? Great, now we can go to Rigel VII in peace.”*\n"
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[WP] "How did you do that!" " I don't know, and I don't want to know"
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"The darkness flowed in from every hole, every crack, every single god damn fissure in the wall like a slow moving fluid of a viscosity syrup can only dream up. Woman, children, hell even some men, were screaming and crying as it marched steadily towards them. The wall had been built just for this, it was supposed to be completely airtight, nothing in and nothing out without the gate being opened.\n\nBut there were holes, smaller than atoms. This was taken into account, but no one really worried. Everything, even this darkness, was made of atoms. If it was too small for an atom to enter through, then surely this thing couldn't make it. Right?\n\nNo, not right, as they were seeing now. Alarms and sirens were wailing all around the safe zone, a circle in the middle of the great plains two-hundred miles in diameter. Humanity would hide here, survive and research whatever this darkness was, and then when they were ready humanity would rise up and take back their planet.\n\nA young man with crutches attempted to flee, but fell in the midst of the advancing darkness. Like a morning fog rolling over rounded hills, it moved over him. The darkness hissed when it touched his body, and he started screaming in something that was beyond pain or agony. With a burst of light similar to a camera's flash, the man's screaming stopped, and his light was smothered.\n\nFive miles south a group of young friends on their bikes watched. They hadn't known each other before they moved into the safe zone, but being a part of the small amount of children who lived long enough to make it here, they had become quick friends. They met in school, which had started as soon as they returned, an attempt to bring a sense or normalcy to the safe zone the emergency government explained. A lot of the children were broke, physically and mentally, by their experiences outside of the safe zone as the world around them had devolved into chaos. \n\nNow they stood on a hill, watching the darkness creep through the wall. They couldn't actually *see* the darkness coming through the wall, but they could tell by the lights. Thousands of flashes, like fireflies in a dark field on a summer night, told the whole story. The wall had failed, the darkness was in, their time was done.\n\nJesse sat on the ground, knees pulled to his chest, and rocked back and forth while silently crying. He had been in New York when it all started, when the darkness had descended on the city from the sky, and undoubtedly he was having flashbacks.\n\n\"There were so many points of light being born and going out,\" He explained once a year ago, \"It was like looking at a galaxy in fast forward.\"\n\nThe safe zone had been built one year after New York, and two years had passed after its completion to this night. It was unstoppable, the darkness, but it was also slow.\n\n\"My dad's out there,\" Matthew said, \"He won't run far with his crutch. I'm going to go help him.\"\n\nBen was pacing back and forth behind Matthew, muttering under his breath. When he heard this though, he perked up and looked like Matthew had just said he planned to jump off the Capitol building.\n\n\"Are you insane?\" He said in a panicked whisper, \"There's nothing any of us can do. We should go back and warn everyone so we can run West, maybe get on a boat to China or Japan. That's the last place it's gonna hit.\"\n\n\"Why does it matter what he does?\" Jesse wondered aloud, \"Now or two years from now, we're all dead. Dead boys walking is all we are.\"\n\nJesse never talked like this, he had always been the optimist, even after all he had seen at New York. Maybe he had to be, to stop himself from going mad, but this had broken him, Jesse had lost all hope.\n\nBut he was right.\n\n\"If I'm going to die, I don't want to do it running away,\" Matthew said as if it was a good explanation. Then without a word, he took off.\n\nRacing down the small grassy hill towards the blinking lights, Matthew felt exhilarated, this is what it meant to be alive. A fast bike, a cool breeze, and a starry summer night. Although, Matthew wasn't sure how much longer the stars would shine. Would the darkness spread forever into the Universe? Or would it stay bound to Earth?\n\nLost in his thoughts, Matthew didn't notice how close he was to the darkness until he crashed into a woman running for her life. He went over the handles bars and flew through the air while the woman screamed in pain.\n\n\"My leg!\" She screamed, \"You broke my leg!\"\n\nMatthew opened his mouth to apologize, but darkness filled it. Like a thick, foul tasting medicine your mom gives you when you have a sore throat, it burrowed its way down into his stomach. He gagged, but couldn't spit the darkness out. Behind his eyes, Matthew saw a bright light growing stronger. It was only a matter of seconds before it was over.\n\nHe relaxed, and fell onto his back. Looking up at the stars, Matthew felt the fear leave him, and opened his eyes wide. \n\nThen it happened.\n\nAs if acting as one single conscious, all the stars in the sky above him seemed to focus their lights onto him. It blinded him as the light shot in through his eyes. He opened his mouth to scream, and instead of bursting like the others did, a ray of light exploded forward with a fury behind it. It wrestled with the darkness, and then began pulling it all *into* Matthew, as if he were a giant vacuum cleaner.\n\nHe screamed as it entered his mouth, as all the darkness in the world flashed through his mind. Every crime, every horrible feeling, pain, torture, longing, sadness, guilt, regret, hate, and every memory associated with those things became one with Matthew. He screamed like he had never screamed before, and throughout the Universe every living being shuddered at the sound of it.\n\nThe darkness was gone when Ben pulled up beside Matthew. Matthew had a haunted look in his eyes, and he trembled in the warm breeze. Ben had seen it all, and approached him wearily. The boy that had been his friend looked sad, tortured, almost broken. He had dark rings under his eyes, and scratches on his wrist where he had dug his nails into them in pain.\n\n\"Matthew...\" He said tentatively.\n\n\"Yes?\" Matthew responded calmly.\n\n\"Are you okay?\"\n\n\"No, I'm not.\"\n\n\"How...How did you do that?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" Matthew said with a tremble, \"And I don't want to know.\"\n\nThe darkness was gone from the world, but for Matthew, it was still all-consuming."
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[WP]/[TT] All human beings have absolute control over what they do and do not remember. When combing through some historical documents, you realise that, ten years ago, there were three days of history which every single human being in the world chose to forget.
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"\"David! I-needaseeesomeadarecords!\" Calum blerted as he arrived at the vault desk, wheezing slightly from his hurried arrival.\n\n\"Uh huh\" David replied slightly less serious than Calum speedy approach would dictate. His gaze never lifting from the flat screen.\n\n\"David, David there's time missing, three days from a couple of years back. I tried looking through global date blasts from every country and language and nothing\" His explanation illustrated by wild hand gestures \"Why would everyone wipe on those days? What happened?\"\n\n\"Hmmmm? Sure\" David replies far too relaxed for theses shocking revelations.\n\n\"I need to see records for July 9 to 12, 2144, the vault hard copies\" Calum's hands planted on the desk \"Please\" \n\nDavid looks up at locking eyes, his expression unchanged to deliver his thunderous reply \"no\"\n\n\"NO?! Vault record are publicly accessible at any time. Calum, my friend, please this is imp...\" David raises his hand\n\n\"Calum, what were you doing on May 5th this year?\"\n\nHe thought for a minute \"Uh, I was...\"\n\nDavid swings the screen on its arm to Face Calum \"You were here\"\n\nThe screen showed Cam footage of of David gesticulating wildly at David, the date in the corner reading May 5th\n\n\"What, but i don't rememb..\" David cuts his off\n\n\"What about April 16th?\"\n\nCalum tries to remember again as David taps the flatboard and points to the screen. More cam footage of Calum less than graceful but no less enthusiastic arrival followed by more hand gesturing at the David dated April 6th.\n\n\"I was here?\" Calum asks not quite to David but at the empty place that information should be in his brain.\n\n\"April 2nd as well\" More Cam footage showed his arrival on the 2nd. \n\nTangible confusion filled the air around Calum. \"I wiped it?\"\n\nDavid nodded, expression softening \"You ARE allowed to see the records, my friend but I don't want you to\"\n\n\"Is it that bad? What's in those records?\" Calum asked almost pleading\n\n\"I don't know, as far as I know I've never read them\" David points to Calum \"but you have...8 different times\"\n\n\"Eight!? That's ridcu...i mean...that's not poss...really? Eight?\" Calum's confusion mounting as the Vault foyer seemed far more familiar than the two times he'd visited before would deem possible.\n\n\"When I've been here, you've come out of the record viewer weeping, muttering 'no one should have to remember this' and you leaving \" David pulls his screen back and looks at Calum piteously \"When we meet to have drinks the next day, you'd wiped the entirety of the previous day and just convinced yourself you forgot what day it was\"\n\n\"Should i...should i not see it this time? I mean eight times? Is quite a few too...oh dear\" Calum plopped onto the seat defeated.\n\n\"If it makes you feel any better, those record are complete and accessible at every vault al over the world and has been assessed no less than...\" David fingers fly over the flatboard \"...4000 times. You're not the only one missing days over those missing days\"\n\n\"Oh\" David half-hearted smiles \"where's the bathroom, i think i'm gonna be sick?\" \n\n*End*\n\n*Fixed the characters switching places, thanks to u/lishani for pointing it out\n*\n \n\n ",
"\n\n\n“Are you absolutely sure you want to know?” I asked myself. I had come a long way to find out exactly what happened in those three days that made everyone want to forget. The book with the answer was finally in my hands and I hesitated. Whatever was written in here would certainly change my life forever. I would be given the burden of a knowledge nobody wanted to know. Because I knew that upon reading this I too would wipe it from my memory I had taken the precaution to remove my ability to wipe my memories. Once I read this there is no going back. There is no erasing it from my mind. \n\nI recalled how I got to this point. It all started 3 months ago after my father had committed suicide. He left a note that only said “I remember, dear God forgive us”. No body understood at all what this meant, but nobody thought much of it as my father was a bit mentally unstable. I would have not thought much of it either had it not been for several odd looking people at the funeral. They wore black business suites, like those that FBI agents might where. The stranger part was that nobody else seemed to notice them, not even when they nearly ran into them. I kept my distance as I watched them as to not let them know I could see them, because it was obvious no one else could. At least that seemed to be what I gathered. As they checked my father’s casket I noticed one of them taking my father’s wrist watch and opening the back of it reviling a small folded up piece of paper. They unfolded and read it but looked annoyed and upset, and threw it in the trashcan and left.\n\nAfter the funeral was over I dug into the trashcan and retrieved the piece of paper. It was a love letter my mother had written to him when they first met. However it was not the actual love letter, as that one is framed in my father’s office. No, this was new. Upon further inspection I noticed small indents in the bottom of the page. They were tiny raised dots. With my magnifying glass I saw that it was brail. But nobody in our family has ever been blind. I translated it after searching a brail translator program on the internet and it relieved to be coordinates. Odd, why in the world would coordinates be put into brail on a copy of a love letter that was hidden in my father’s wrist watch? I suspected that this had something to do with my father’s suicide. \n\nThe location was not too far, it was about a 5 hour drive to a cabin out in the woods. Nobody around for miles. There must be something here, or some significance to this cabin. I searched in and around the cabin with no luck. I decided to look at the letter again when I noticed something. The love letter was a copy word for word, except for one sentence. Instead of “You are the air beneath my wings” it says “You are my rock that supports me” Rock. I looked around the cabin for a rock….ok, there were tons of rocks. Then I remembered, inside there was a rock that was used to support the leg of the table. There seems to be a seam around it. I cracked open the rock to reveal another folded up piece of paper. But this one was much thicker. \n\nI opened it up and was startled by what it read. \n“I am unable to live with this burden anymore. I don’t understand how or why, but the days that humanity chose to forget I seem to remember now. I am unable to forget them, no matter how hard I try. Although it pains me to remember this, it pains me even more that we chose to forget. That is why I have written down a detailed account of the three days, and why we all chose to forget. I have placed it under the loose floorboard next to the sink. Only read it if you are absolutely certain you can handle what we all chose to forget. I remember, dear God forgive us.”\n\nI went over to the floorboard and grabbed the journal, but as soon as I opened It up several hours had instantly passed. It was already sunset and the journal had a note taped to the front of it in my handwriting that said “DEAR GOD, WHY?” I had erased the memory. This was going to be a problem. No matter if I read the journal or not, the outcome will still be the same. I would need a way to hinder my ability to forget. But doing so would likely cause me to want to kill myself upon what I read. But I must know. I talked with a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy who knew how to manipulate our ability to control our memories. When I told him I wanted to lose my ability to forget thing, he was shocked. Nobody had ever asked to have their ability to forget to be taken away. But he didn’t delve into it any further and proceeded to work on me. \n\nI was put under for about 2 days to recover. I woke up and he had me preform some tests to see if it worked. After several hours of testing it was concluded that I indeed no longer have the ability. I said thankyou and paid him and went back to the cabin and grabbed the Journal. I then asked myself “Are you absolutely sure you want to know?” and I answered yes. \n\nI opened up the journal and began to read. I nearly threw up after reading it all. I so desperately wanted to forget. Dear god, why did I have to know? What was in the pages was something I did not expect at all. I had assumed it to be a massive war, aliens, or a giant conspiracy. No. It was worse. \nWhat was in the journal was a detailed account of my death. It didn’t make sense at first, but then things started to fall into place. My memories were beginning to alter. The cabin grew darker as if nothing existed outside of it. It wasn’t my father’s body in the casket, it was mine. The men in suits, they were my parents, and the reason nobody saw them was because none of the other people were real. My mind had altered the events to protect myself. There never was an ability to alter our minds, it was just a fiction made up by my mind to protect myself from the truth. I knew that once I had learned the truth I would no longer be here, so I made up a fiction to protect me so I could stay. But now that I can’t forget the facade is starting to crumble. The cabin started to fade away and all that was left was the empty blackness, and soon I faded too…..\n\n“We have finally lost him. I am so sorry for your loss. Your son had fought hard to stay, but it seems he has now moved on” Said the doctor to the parents. They had found their son in a bloody bathtub with his wrists slit, and despite the efforts of the doctor to save his life, he had finally passed on. \n",
"Part II\n\nSeptember 19, 2006\n\nThe Cleansing has begun. A multiple day process that reaches its culmination on the 20th. Anyone who isn’t infected with the virus is forcefully injected or killed. This has to stop, but I know I can’t stop it.\n\nI’m still not infected, so below is a list of details. Maybe this will help me remember after The Memory Renaissance.\n\n1.\tMy name is Jonathan Beckham.\n2.\tI am 47 years old\n3.\tI have a wife named Julia, a son named Marcus, and a daughter named Ruby\n\n***\nI stop reading. Who is Ruby? I have always been a singly child from before The Memory Renaissance. I never had a sister.\n\n***\n4.\tI served in the Gulf War\n5.\tI live in Charleston, South Carolina\n6.\tThe Memory Renaissance is a lie. It was crafted by a much more advanced species from another planet\n7.\tThey have convinced many of us here on Earth that The Cleansing is the only price we have to pay in order to have full control over our memories. It’s not just about the memories. They want control and they want to run their experiments on us.\n8.\tThis isn’t like those sci-fi movies we watched in which aliens invaded just to attack us and take our planet. They don’t care about our planet because all they really want is us. Our minds are similar enough to theirs that they can avoid testing on themselves and instead use us.\n9.\tThey will make us forget about these three days tomorrow. No human will ever remember.\n10.\tWe can choose what to remember and forget, but they can choose what we remember and forget as well. They can access our minds.\n11.\tThey can make us forget about people. \n\n***\nAt the bottom my father had scribbled in massive letters.\n\nDO NOT FORGET YOUR FAMILY\n\nI know that this warning was from himself to himself, but I feel scared and suddenly very small. He must have been crazy. This is absolutely not possible, but the letter isn’t the only thing in the envelope. I reach inside to the lump at the bottom of the envelope and pull out a thin stick. \n\nI look at it for a moment, before realizing it has a cap on it and when I take off the cap, I realize it is a USB. I put away the timelines, close up the attic, and go downstairs with the thumb drive. I insert it into my computer and open the file.\n\nIt’s a series of pictures and videos and each file was created between September 17 and September 19. I open one of the pictures, and I’m absolutely taken aback by what I see. It’s a photo that someone else took, because my dad is being held back by security guards in full body armor including masks. They’re taller than normal people; each guard is about 7 feet tall. My mom is clutching me blocking my view of what’s happening, and I’m obviously much younger in the picture. \n\nBut the camera isn’t focused on us. It’s focused on a guard who has a gun raised at the head of a girl, her face contorted in terror and sorrow. \n\nI move on to the next picture. The girl is on the ground and my family is around her, my mother clutching her with tears streaming down her face.\n\nThe next file is a video, taken on a cell phone. It’s my father. Hearing his voice fills me with hope for a moment, before I understand what he’s saying.\n\nWith tears in his eyes and his face caked with dirt he says to the camera, “Ruby couldn’t be affected by the bacteria. Her memories couldn’t be taken or forced to stay. She’s….she’s dead. Your daughter is dead.”\n\nI continue to scroll through the pictures and videos, become more horrified over what happened during those three days.\n\nYou might think that I let this information go public. That I led some sort of great revolt against the aliens. But no, I never got that chance. I should have realized from the letter in which my father warned that they could access our minds. \n\nA few hours later, they burst in to our home, knocking down doors and furniture to find me. Those tall security guards, whom at this point, I was sure were not human, restrain me in my room. \n\nOne of them raises a gun to my head and tells me in a very raspy voice, “You and your father are threats to us all. Those three days must remain out of human memory.” \n\n‘I will never forget my family’ is the last thought that goes through my mind before he pulls the trigger.\n***\nPerhaps this was a sad story, without a happy ending. Humanity does not remember those three days, and Marcus is forgotten by his mother, who now thinks she's been alone her entire life. But in reality, how significant can three days really be?\n",
"I comb through the old documents in the attic, and find an old timeline my father had made years ago. The date on it is December 31, 2009, which puts it after The Memory Renaissance.\n\nIn the height of the Cold War, we perfected the ability to manipulate memories. However, in 1967, the bacteria used to manipulate memories were exposed. They were relatively easy to manufacture, and soon people had the ability to decide which memories they wanted to forget. \n\nIn 2006, the bacteria were modified and went airborne. They began to appear almost everywhere and became as common as the common cold. There seemed to be few if any harmful side effects to becoming infected, and this ability was helpful in keeping us from forgetting certain things and blocking out others, like traumatic experiences. This became known as The Memory Renaissance. \nI’m absolutely fascinated by how we used to live in the past before we could control our memories. My dad love making timelines before he passed away, and I love scrolling through them. It makes me feel more connected with him.\n\nUsually, I don’t learn anything new because I’ve gone through these timelines over and over again and I choose to remember all the dates. We also learn about many of these events in school, which is a lot easier compared to how it used to be considering we can remember what we learn much more effectively.\n\nAs I browse through this massive, detailed timeline which runs from January 1, 2000 to December 31, 2009, I feel that strong connection with my father, but then I notice something that I hadn’t paid attention to before. \n\nSeptember 17, 18, and 19 of 2006 have small stars above them. The stars on my dad’s timelines mean that there was something very significant that happened on that day. The start of a war, or a new invention that changes human history. \n\nI turn over the timeline, expecting to see information on The Memory Renaissance. Perhaps information of the buildup towards September 20, the date that scientists released the first airborne bacteria under government supervision, allowing us to have absolute control over our memories.\n\nBut what I see is completely unexpected. There is nothing but the words “intentionally forgotten by humankind” for each of the three days. I think back to that time. I was only 8 years old back then, but I still remember 2006. Sure, I don’t remember every day of the year, but I can’t remember those three days.\n\nI brush it off as something relatively unimportant, but something stays on my mind. Why would every person intentionally forget those three days? \n\nI return to the closet in the attic where my dad kept all his timelines. Inside is a drawer with a lock but no key. For the past several years since his death, I assumed we buried the key with him on accident, and we didn’t want to disturb him to get the key. We didn’t think anything important was in there, but now I feel like it’s the only answer.\n\nI rattle the wooden drawer inside the closet, but it just shakes a little, not giving way. I go downstairs to get a crowbar and wedge it into the drawer, prying it open.\n\nInside are pictures of celebrations from The Memory Renaissance Festival in 2006. Pictures of my family back before my father passed. I’m getting lost in the memories when I notice the bottom. In the wood, my father has etched a message. \n\n“To myself: Do not forget the three days. The Memory Renaissance is a lie. They will kill us all if they find out we know. Remove the drawer, take the envelope, read it, and try to remember.”\n\nA shudder runs down my spine. I just stare at the carving for a moment, before gathering thoughts and I remove the drawer. Sitting there, where the drawer would have concealed it, is the envelope. I open it and begin to read. And what I see absolutely terrifies me. I now know why we forgot those days, and the danger it brings.\n",
"The author of the book had left a wife in the Austrian mountains. It was with a desperate hope that I travelled south, filled with a mad dream that she might remember the words her dead husband wrote. The flat lands of Germany became the mountains of the border. Clutched in my palm, as the black smoke chugged past the window, was the scrap of paper I'd torn from the book. The edges were crumpled, and I smoothed them out with gloved fingers. \n\n\n\n*1st January 1885: we chose to forget.* \n\n\n\n\n*2nd January 1885: we chose to forget.* \n\n\n\n\n*3rd January 1885: may we never remember.* \n\n\n\nThe train whistle broke my thoughts and train slowed to a halt, brakes hissing. Tucking the paper back in my glove, I reached for my suitcase, only to find a man had got there first. He was stout, with a waxed moustache and the air of someone who is doing his best to help in the most irritating way possible. \n\n\n\n\"Allow me,\" he offered, lifting it from the rack. He smiled rat-like teeth at me and one hand brushed too close to mine. \n\n\n\n\"Thank you,\" I nodded. He struggled to get it down. The case itself was filled with books. Journals, newspapers, every documentation of the last ten years I was able to get my hands on. Every one, to a man, skipped three days between New Year's day of 1885, and the third of January. It was peculiar in its unanimity. \n\n\n\n\"You got rocks in there?\" the rat-like gentleman asked. \n\n\n\n\"Books,\" I replied. \"I'm a journalist.\" \n\n\n\n\"Shouldn't be travelling alone,\" he grunted, lifting his hat. \"Woman like you, writing stories. Might get ideas above your station.\" \n\n\n\nAs he left, I wiped the interaction from my mind. Obliterated, forgotten. I did it with slight reluctance. As a journalist, I chose to remove things from my mind but rarely. The truth necessitates unbiased memories. \n\n\n\nAt the station, I ordered a cab and was told that the route I intended to take did not allow for wheels. I would have to go on foot to find the author's wife, or not at all. Obsequiously, I was offered a locker at the station and permitted to leave my suitcase there. Having come so far, I had no inclination of falling at the final hurdle, so I withdrew my notebook and the author's book from my case. \n\n\n\nFrom there, the road wound into the mountains and became little more than a goat trail. Grey sheets of rock rose around me, each twist and summit of the path giving way to yet more. My legs began to tremble as I rounded a corner to find a lake, clover and blue ancolie fringing the edges. Long grass pushed against my skirts and I continued until I saw the house at the cusp of the valley. \n\n\n\nIt was a small, poky little thing. Two square windows no larger than pennies peeked out of a rough, whitewashed wall. The roof was the same grey slate as the mountains, and chickens scratched around outside. On a stool, shelling peas, sat an old woman. She looked like a stump of a tree, short and squat, curling in on herself. She held the peas in hands that looked like knobbled roots, and when she looked at me, I saw with dismay that she was blind. The white cataracts ate away at her eyes. \n\n\n\n\"Hello,\" I said in rusty German. \"I've come to ask about your husband's work. The missing days. He's the only person who has acknowledged their existence in recent writing and...\" \n\n\n\nEven I could not remember what I had forgotten. I'd been only eleven at the time, and I had a dim memory of sitting in my father's study, on his lap. The carpet had smelt like rich tea, the walls of wooden shavings. He had a leather book open on his desk and I remember the scratch of ink on paper. When I checked his diaries after this year, the entries from those days disappeared. The fire had always burned in his study.\n\n\n\n\"Darling,\" he said. His voice was misty and even now, his face didn't come to mind. \"You may remember now.\" \n\n\n\nThe old woman put down the peas she was shelling and looked at me. \n\n\n\n\"You think you're the first to ask me about the missing days?\" she said. \"My husband was smarter than I. He chose to forget, and he wrote it down in his journal.\" \n\n\n\n\"Do you remember?\" I breathed, hardly able to believe it. \n\n\n\nThe old woman nodded. She picked up her peas again. \"But first, you must show me that you are willing to learn. Sit by my side and help me shell the peas.\" \n\n\n\nI did as I was told, sitting on the cold grey dirt outside the woman's poor little house in the mountains. Incredulous that her husband's fame had not brought her more of a pension, I kept my thoughts to myself, lest she change her mind about telling me. \n\n\n\n\"Listen carefully,\" she said eventually. \"The world may have changed when you hear this.\" \n\n\n\nI pulled my notebook from my purse and held my pen ready. Her voice fell into time with the quiet click of the peas dropping into the bowl between her feet. \n\n\n\n\n-----------\n\n\n\nI awoke to the sun streaming through a window, jolting over my face. The quiet chug of the train against the grain of the mountain played a rhythm in the background. Panicking, I searched my memory for what the woman had said the afternoon before. Nothing. I'd erased it, chosen not to remember. \n\n\n\n\nI scrabbled for the notebook, pulling it forward with desperate hands. Rifling the pages, I found six of them missing. Torn out at the seams, and no recollection of where they had gone. And on the last page, my final entry. \n\n\n\n*5th September 1905: Arrived at the cabin in the mountains. I chose to forget.* \n\n\n\nTwo lines below it, another person's hand had written in pencil: \n\n\n\n*Burn the pages when you can.* The letters were rusty, block capitals as if written by someone who could not write well. Or someone who could not see. \n\n\n\n*Burn the pages when you can.* The words echoed in my mind as the sun shone into my compartment. That meant I still had them. \n\n\n----------\n\n\n/r/Schoolgirlerror"
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[WP] " Will you go out with me? " She asked, " No. " He replied
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"\"Will you go out with me?\" She wanted to ask. They left never having the conversation that would have changed their lives for the better.\n\n\"Will you go out with me?\" He asked. He put himself on the line, as she was to shy. She couldn't even say yes so they became the lovers that were meant to be.\n\n\"Will you go out with me?\" The destined lovers never met, the words never held any meaning spoken to any other\n\nYet the lover did in fact meet. They were given a chance at happiness in this life. They never asked but their eyes spoke for them. They danced around the lovers song. Time faded eyesight and the warmth in each others eyes obsured\n\n\"Will you go out with me?\" She asked biting her lip. \"YES\", he screamed. They lived the rest of their lives together, which wasn't very long. They met at the terminal ward of the local hospital.\n\n\"Will you go out with me?\" She asked. \"No\" was all he could muster in response. He didn't know how to love as his heart was broken. He later killed himself and lived the rest of her life wondering where all the good men had gone.\n\n\"Will you go out with me?\" He had never heard it be asked to him before, legend has it that he is still standing there in shock\n\n\"Will you go out with me?\" She never did ask because she thought he would be stronger. She thought he would ask. She didn't realize that he had given up under the thought of the possibility of finding finding love. He was too kind to scare her with his feelings as all those before her. He hated gender roles but was too passive to let it be known. If she had of asked he would have said no. He didn't know how to listen to his heart anymore. She was too kind to persue him, he too kind to show his feelings\n\nThese lovers where destined to be together however fate and destiny never saw eye to eye. Destiny told the love birds to be together yet fate neglected the chance. In this world happiness, the pain is not seen. In this world of happiness, I have no place. I don't know if I am the girl in waiting or the man in fear but it hard to see any sad that I will see another year. You need not fear my dear, I am sincere. Even after I go,it is near impossible to show, even if you brave the erdge to say no. I love you and will continue from the grave\n\n\"Will you go out with me?\" She asked over a lonely grave"
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[WP] You discover you can look into a person's future by kissing them
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"\"Happy birthday grandma!\" A smile lit up her face as I walked in the door. \n\n\"Happy birthday,\" she replied. \"How old are you this year? Twelve?\"\n\n\"No grandma. I'm thirteen now.\"\n\nShe patted me on the cheek as I leaned in to plant a kiss on hers. Something in her eyes made me hesitate. She looked so sorrowful with just a hint of fear. Not as though she was afraid of me, but afraid for me. Somehow she knew what was about to happen to me. \n\nThe moment my lips touched her cheek I felt a shock run from the base of my skull to the end of my spine. In a flash, images began to pour into my subconscious. The surge of information overwhelmed my entire being and I collapsed backwards onto the floor. \n\nI woke hours later lying on my grandmothers bed. She sat in the chair beside me holding my hand gently in hers. Just staring at me with a look of compassion on her face. I was crying. While I was asleep my brain had carefully sorted through the information and arranged events so that I could understand it. My own sobbing had woken me as my subconscious mind informed my conscious mind that my grandmother would die in three weeks time. \n\n\"Grandma ...\"\n\n\"Don't tell me Garth. I don't want to know what you saw. I've seen enough of the future that I don't want to know mine.\"\n\n\"But grandma, I ...\"\n\n\"No dearest. Even if you told me, I can't change what's coming and neither can you.\" She patted my hand gently. \"It gets easier over time. The best advice I can give you is to be careful who you kiss. And learn to look for the good things. Appreciate the good moments you see and enjoy those to the fullest. Try to forget the bad things. No use worrying over things you can't change.\"\n\nWe talked for an hour after that. She answered each of my questions as best she could, and some I hadn't thought to ask. She told me that it happened to her five times before she stopped falling into a coma every time she kissed someone. \"The brain learns to cope with the new information,\" she said \"Processing what it can right away and filing the rest away to deal with when you sleep that night.\"\n\nI've never forgotten the last piece of advice she gave me before I left, \"Don't tell a soul. I mean it! Most won't believe you and those who do will try to use you.\"\n\nSo I've never told a soul. Not my girlfriend, who I knew would cheat on me but loved too much to leave. Nor later my wife, who I knew would miscarry three times before our son was born. Nor my father, who I knew the police would catch after he embezzled $100,000 from his employer. \n\nEvery time I tried to change something I only made it worse. I told my sister not to go to the pool. Instead she drown in the river and two friends died trying to save her. A co-worker kissed me under the mistletoe before I could stop her. I saw her die in a car crash so I told her not to drive home that night. She ordered an Uber. My best friend was her driver. They both died on impact when the train hit the car. It isn't always the death of a person I see, but those are the ones I can't help but try to change. The lives cut short too soon. \n\nThis morning I kissed my son for the first time. I saw his death. He was executed for crimes against humanity. He was going to plant a dirty bomb in the center of New York. I watched as he detonated it. That's why I snapped his neck. Now all of those people will get a chance to live a normal life. He can't hurt them now. "
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[WP]A clairvoyant reveals that you have to power to switch lives with one person in any place or time permanently. It's been many years and you still haven't yet figured out how to use it.
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"That. Fucking. Bitch.\n\nWhat kind of nerve... WHO DOES THIS!? Who thinks this is even remotely appropriate?! Of all the messed up shit one human can do to another, that she hasn't already done to me, this really takes the cake. This is some cold-as-ice, witch grade shit to do to someone. God damn, I really wish I didn't love this girl anymore.\n\nThree years ago, Lucy Preston was wearing a five hundred dollar ring on her finger that I had bought for her in exchange for an agreement to marry me. A year after that, she told me she was leaving me to move to Europe because she didn't love me anymore for the simple facts that I was unemployed, unattractive and destined to commit suicide at some point in my near future. All this coming from the woman I loved more than anything. The woman I spent endless hours trying to please because I knew these things were true, but I desperately didn't want her to leave me. After that, I spent half of the next year calling her, leaving messages, sending letters, wishing to god I could just hear her voice again. Had that fortune teller twinkle toes told me how to use my 'gift' I might have just switched lives with Lucy and spend the rest of my days admiring myself in the mirror, but that seemed a little much. \n\nNow it's been another half year and I haven't so much as spoken to her because through my tireless research, I discovered Lucy was liking some other European guy. Of course she was. I guess fuck me for moving to the same country she did. Looks like my journey was over.\n\nThe day my rope for my noose was supposed to arrive in the mail, a letter came with it, her new address and signature scribbled on the front. I immediately forgot my plans to kill myself and tore it open with equal parts relentless excitement to see what she had to say and delicacy so as not to tear the letter in half.\n\n\"Dear Richard,\n\nI'm thrilled and excited to invite you to my wedding!\n\nI stopped reading right there. What a cold hearted bitch. Who could do that to another human being? I flicked the letter onto the ground and tore open my package revealing the scratchiest, stringiest looking rope I'd ever seen in my life. My first thought was: \"I really should have bought a gun.\" This sad excuse for a rope was going to feel like a porcupine against my throat. A bullet wouldn't have felt like much at all. \n\nThen my mind started to wonder and I realized that had I bought a gun, I could've brought it to her wedding and went out with a literal bang, maybe taking her newfound Fabio with me, but guns are hard to come by this part of Europe, so it felt for a moment like too much trouble... Then it started to feel like a minor inconvenience... Then it started to feel like a really good idea.\n\nOne shady twat carrying a briefcase and wearing a trench coat later and I had myself a firearm. Loaded too. Black market customer service hasn't changed a bit. He even offered me drugs and as much as the thought of murdering the woman who destroyed my heart while high on blow enticed me, I wasn't much of a drug guy.\n\n\"Come on in!\" Said her brother who I'd met several times before. I could see him cringe as he said those words, obviously realizing the awkwardness of it all.\n\n\"This is pretty fucking awkward,\" I remarked. \"Why the hell did she even invite me to this thing?\"\n\nHer brother shrugged and sighed. \"She told me she had something to tell you.\"\n\nI put my hand behind my back to run a finger across the pistol in my waistband. Then I smiled. \"Let's hope it's nothing like what she told me three years ago.\"\n\nWhen i saw her standing on her balcony in her brilliant white dress, it eluded my how much hatred I had for her. She looked immaculate, like she had just returned from dinner in the heavens. She glowed like the moon on water. I knew she was an ice queen, but her presence made me feel so warm. I wanted desperately to talk to her... So I did. When she noticed me approaching, she grew a fat smile and came to embrace me, acting like she had never said the things she did.\n\n\"Richard! Oh my god, it's so good to see you!\" She threw an arm around my shoulder and pulled me in close. I panicked for a moment that her hands might find my weapon, (not my penis) but when she pulled away, the look in her eyes didn't suspect a thing.\n\n\"I was... Your letter was a surprise.\" She put a hand behind her head and sucked air through her teeth.\n\n\"I thought maybe you wouldn't come.\"\n\n\"Why the hell would I? You haven't talked to me in three years.\" I just noticed that it was only her and I standing on her balcony. I could probably push her over the edge and nobody would notice, but knowing me, I'd probably jump down after her, half to end myself, and half to save her. She put each of her hands on each of my shoulders, looked me directly in the eyes, made me realize how much I missed this, and said, \"I'm so, so, so, so, so, so sorry. I should have never ended things as abruptly, or as destructively as I did. You didn't deserve that.\" \n\nI sneered. \"I tried to get a hold of you for years! Plural! You're telling me this now, as you're getting ready to commit your entire life to some other jackass?\"\n\n\"I rushed into things with you, Richard. You proposed after three months. What was I supposed to do?\" This information was... technically correct. I did urge her to move in with me after only two months and some might have called me... clingy, but Lucy blew me away immediately, so I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her immediately. I'm the king of rash decisions. \n\n\"I don't want you to think I'm blaming you, though. I'm not. I said yes. I took the ring. I'm just as much, if not more at fault here.\"\n\nI stared at my shoes. For a moment, I forget the gun in my pants. \"You could have told me all of this at the time you know? Would've saved me the trouble.\" She responded by leaning forward and kissing me, a sensation I'd almost completely forgotten. I missed it. Oh god I missed it.\n\n\"I was selfish. But I really do want you to be happy. Please don't waste your life on me. I just want you to be happy. That's really what I want.\" As I looked at her face, I realized that I might never be able to grant her wishes. At this point, I had lost everything I'd worked for. When she became my life, and then tore herself away, I shut down. My prospects disappeared, my social life vaporized, I became a useless human being. She was my reason to live and this was the finale of her appearance in my life. I felt like a husk. I felt like a hermit crab who needed a new shell.\n\nAs I was thinking, the door to the balcony opened behind me and Fabio Fuckface came out to greet us.\n\n\"Hey darling,\" he said in his thick, sexy, European accent, kissing her on the lips. He gestured at me with his drinking hand and asked, \"Who's this?\"\n\nLucy cleared her throat before saying, \"This is uh... This is my ex husband. Richard.\" I threw a meek hand into the air to introduce myself, but Mr. Man did not look impressed. He merely nodded his head, tongue in cheek, saying, \"Uh huh.\" \n\n\"Sweetheart,\" he continued, \"Your father wants to talk to you.\" \n\nShe smiled at him, then at me and reentered the apartment. \"I'll talk to you later, Richard.\" Then she was gone, and for the first time in a really long time, I wished desperately to be alone.\n\n\"She's something, isn't she? You would know best.\" Oh right. I forgot about her new squeeze. I turned to face him.\n\n\"She must really like you, huh?\" I remarked. Assface chuckled. \n\n\"You're the guy I've heard so much about, then? The letters and the phone calls are all your doing?\" He looked into his drink. \"I'd be the same way had she left me like that.\" Behind him, the ocean twinkled in the moonlight. It reminded me of Lucy and all the reasons I loved her. It reminded me how badly I wanted to hold her again, to hear her voice in my ear, to feel her lips against mine, god that's all I wanted. I felt the barrel of the gun against my spine.\n\nWell... Not all I wanted.\n\n\"You see out there,\" I said, pointing far off towards the horizon. Fabio turned to look.\n\n\"Quite the view, isn't it?\" He commented. I snatched a pillow from their decadent porch furniture and retrieved the gun from my waistband.\n\n\"I always thought swimming in the ocean was a lot like being with Lucy.\" I brought the pillow up to head level.\n\n\"Why's that?\"\n\n\"Because you can look in any direction and it's brilliantly gorgeous, but that will never change the fact that you're still going to drown.\"\n\nI pressed the pillow against the back of his head, bending his waist over the railing, then I pressed the gun against the pillow and pulled the trigger. One moment, I saw a plume of red mist explode downwards towards the beach, but the next moment, I saw the beach itself. I was looking down on it, my waist bent over the railing, a drink in my hand. I returned to standing straight and saw myself lying on the ground, pistol in my hand, pillow in the other, a giant hole in my forehead.\n\nIt was me. It was Richard. Except I wasn't anymore because in the reflection of the glass door, I was very clearly Fabio Fuckface. It struck me like an asteroid falling from the sky. Suddenly, I had everything I ever wanted.\n\nI lifted myself by my arms and threw one half over the railing, then pushed the other half off completely and watched my body fall, fall, fall onto the beach below, waiting throughout the night to be swept away by the tide, or found the next day. A tragic, love induced suicide. Still better than that porcupine rope. Maybe I could watch Lucy cry for me.\n\nI reentered the apartment, getting used to my new legs, searching far and wide for my new bride to be. I saw her standing in the kitchen, talking with her father over champagne. \n\n\"How are you, sweetheart?\" I asked, my thick, sexy, European accent coming across flawlessly. She saw me, her face bursting into a rampant smile that she pressed against my lips. I could get used to this."
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[WP] The first test of a spaceborne EmDrive is, at most, supposed to keep a satellite in orbit slightly longer than if it had no propulsion system. Instead, once it's powered on, the satellite vanishes. Hours later, NASA picks up its tracking signal - from beyond Neptune's orbit.
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"\"See if you can keep up with me.\" Jeff Goldblum says as he manically twirls a cigarette in his hand, sweat beading on his forehead.\n\n\"We're listening.\" The United States President says, obviously impatient with this quirky scientists demeanor.\n\n\"So the drive, the EM drive, that thing you put up there a month ago. Well two days ago they finally switched on the propulsion system. And poof\" Jeff says as he mimics an explosion with his hands, the cigarette now dangling from his mouth.\n\nThe president reached out and snatched the cigarette from his mouth, putting it out in an ashtray beside Jeff's monitor. \n\n\"I thought we asked you not to smoke in the control room,\" The president said, his irritation growing. \"You didn't even smoke until this confounded thing disappeared, now I could swear you are a Malboro cowboy. You know how much I struggle with this.\"\n\nJeff pushes the chair with his feet, twirling and coming to a stop just as he reaches his computer.\n\n\"Anyways, we had no idea what happened. We checked the LIGO for readings, we listened for emissions, and as you know - we even sent someone up there to just freaking look. Nothing!\" Jeff had lit another cigarette, and finally took a deep hit from it as he fell silent.\n\n\"What are you getting at, Jeff. Might I remind you that...\" \n\n\"So then, while I was taking a coffee break after a 32 hour binge of data logging, it occurred to me.\" Jeff said as he began typing furiously, the cigarette burning itself into oblivion in his ash tray. \"I cranked up the residual scanner, you know, that one you paid a few billion for but never got to use because there is nothing unusual in our solar system? Yeah, well, it found something.\"\n\nJeff frantically turned his ergonomically mounted monitor towards the president. On the screen was the orbital path of Neptune, and in orbit around it, the Cannae Cubesat. Beside the cubesat, was an unidentified object emitting a larger power signature than the entirety of earth's history combined.\n\nThe president, shaking, reached for what was left of Jeff's cigarette and took a deep draw himself as he sat down beside the mad scientist.\n\n\"I haven't smoked in nine years.\" he said, his voice slightly choked by the smoke he was holding in his lungs, before he exhaled the bitter cloud slowly.\n\n\"We're calling it Neptunes Fury, for no reason in particular. We really are less creative than people give us credit for.\"\n\n\"Do you know what it is?\" The President asked, after putting out the cigarette butt amidst the wasteland of butts and ash that was Jeff's desk.\n\n\"No.\" Jeff seemed to sober, deflating as he twirled his chair away from the President. \"But we believe the EM emissions attracted it. But what I don't get is how it responded so quickly, the EM Drive was only active for a half hour before it vanished. The delayed telemetry from when it reestablished communication was not... actually delayed. As far as the onboard computer is concerned, no time passed, not even a single CPU cycle. It just instantly was at Neptune.\"\n\nThe President rose from his chair, and feigned dusting off his jacket.\n\n\"I have some people to get in contact with, thank you for your work. I am sure we will be in touch in the coming hours, do you mind if we set up a situation room here in your lab?\" The president asked, nodding at his security detail to open the door for him.\n\n\"S... sure. Before you go, Obama, what are you going to do? I think it would be wise to not piss them off.\" \n\n\"They seem like colorful folks, well respond appropriately.\" "
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[WP] You are a master third wheeler. Who is the group you're lurking with?
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"\"Y'all know why we are here,\" Daryl said slamming down a beer mug.\n\n\"It's been years. 10 damn years! And here he sits, the best damn third wheel I have ever met.\" Daryl's arm patted the shoulder of the man next to him. \"This ugly face showed up and hasn't left our side, even though he was almost killed a time or two and maybe once by me.\"\n\nShouts and yells echoed down the bar hall for the third wheel.\n\n\"He walked through that door in the back. A wet behind the ear know nothing, and he walked right up and took a seat next to us. Needless to say, we beat the hell out of him.\"\n\nLaughter echoed in the dimly lit room interrupted only by coughs from the poorly ventilated smoke.\n\n\"And the idiot came back. He stuck with us. Even when we beat him down. Even when we lost our own. Even when we almost disappeared. He stuck by our side.\"\n\nSolemn affirmation came from the liquored crowd.\n\n\"And now...\" His words stuck in the air. \"He is our new second wheel!\"\n\nDeafening noise came from the men and beer rained from bottles and glasses as the gathered bikers yelled their agreement.\n\nSpecial Agent Nick Breeland of the ATF stood next to First Wheel Daryl South of the Dixie Riders and raised hands with the leader of the notorious biker gang.\n\nDown the road, a windowless van sat with officers and surveillance gear listening to the microphones placed in the bar over the last several years. \n\nNick Breeland was the best undercover agent the Bureau had ever had, and the best Third Wheel the bikers had ever known.\n\nAnd now as the Second Wheel, he could bring down the entire gang."
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[WP] The local young Queen has come of age, and seeks her king. You wish to be that king, but there's one problem: you are a dragon, feared by the kingdom, despite the fact that you're a pacifist.
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"\"You must be a hell of a thief because you stole my heart from across the kingdom my queen\"\nIt was a crisp sunny morning the queen had just turned eighteen the legal age of marriage in the kingdom of lenoria and a beautiful queen she was but the day had been fouled up by the appearance of jaggo the pacifist, vegitarian dragon who lived in the mountains writing strange, terrible poetry, and eating vegtables the villagers offered him.\n\nThousands upon thousands of rose petals fell from the sky above the queens palace completely perplexing the guards \"Tis a lame and nerdy dragon my queen run and take refuge i shall protect ye from this terrifyingly lame beast!\" exclaimed general Gavelock captain of the queens guard laughing at his truly lame attempt at wit. \n\nsuddenly from above the dragon let loose a foul breath of flame into the shape of a love heart in the sky just under its massive body.\"the foul beast thinks it has a chance with the queen how funny perhaps we should slay it here and now to end its misery\" joked Gavelock to his men\n\"Hello, I Am a pacifist i have not once attacked the kingdom and Im four hundred years old you old ugly son of a whore\"\n\nGavelock was going to throw back another spear of words at the witty acid tongued dragon but was stopped by the queen who decided to let the dragon down easy \"dragon why have you come it could never work between us\" \n\"Your eyes are blue, like the ocean. And baby, I’m lost at sea, it could totally work between us if we tried I mean my sister married a donkey for gods sake.\" \"besides i have longer equipment than captain Gaylock over there\"\n\nthe queen couldn't help but go into a fit of laughter she never did like Gavelock much, her father had hired him because they were old war buddies or something along those lines she didn't really know or care that much.\n\nGavelock growing red with anger grabbed a spear off one of his men and threw it at the dragon, however the dragon was too quick and dropped suddenly with a crash to the ground \"Sorry, My love, I can’t hold on… I’ve already fallen for you.\" \n\nthe queen still in a fit of laughter motioned for Gavelock to be taken away he had no reason or right to attack the dragon despite his crappy pickup lines he posed no immediate threat to the kingdom.\n\n\"perhaps one date would not hurt dragon you have made me laugh more than any other attempted suitor\"\n\n\"And that my dear half dragon half human children is how i wooed your mother, the rest is history\" the children both rolled their eyes at another one of fathers silly stories and ran off to go play in the palace gardens\n \n\"Jaggo stop telling the kids stupid stories about how we met\" the queen said with a heavy sigh, \nJaggo gave the queen a pitiful look \n\"Fine if you at least stop trying to make the kingdom vegetarian, some of us like bacon... we can have a little \"fun\" tonight while the kids are asleep\" \n\"Fair Queen, Tis my duty to please that booty\" \n",
"\"I don't understand what the problem is,\" Mother said, dangling a terrified cow over her maw. \"Take on the form of a prince, and present yourself before her. What we cannot take force, we take by deception.\" \n\n\"Erm, yes,\" I said, picking at a loose scale on my arm. \"But wouldn't, um, starting a sexual relationship with someone through deception - wouldn't that be considered rape?\" \n\nMother lowered the cow to glare at me through slitted eyes. \"Vercinminitrix!\" she hissed, and I winced at the sound of my full name. \"What did I do wrong,\" she said, throwing up her hands, the cow's neck snapping as it was flailed through the air. \"What did I do to raise such a son! We ransom princesses! We eat queens! To marry one is shameful enough, but this delicate constitution about little things like rape!\" She snorted fire from her nostrils. \"Then tell her you're a dragon, then, if you're going to be this squeamish about it!\" She sighed and frowned down at her dead cow. \"Now look what you made me do. And I was looking forward to it squirming as I bit down.\" \n\n\"Well,\" I said, \"I mean,\" and dug my claw down under the scale even further. \"The kingdom wouldn't like that, you know, what with their prejudices about dragons and all - not that those prejudices are entirely unjustified, what with you and dad - but I think, them just getting to know me, could very easily lead to a new era of cooperation betwe-\"\n\n\"Ver,\" Mother snarled, and snapped down on the cow, letting the juices run between her teeth. \"Get to the point. What idiotic scruple is getting in your way this time?\" \n\n\"Well,\" I said. \"Well.\" I'd peeled the scale all the way off and a little droplet of blood was bubbling up underneath. \"It's that she's a queen, you see. And If I married her, I'd be a king.\" \n\nMother laid her head across the stone and let the gravel tumble down the back of her throat, her red-slitted eyes fixed on me. \n\n\"And I'm a pacifist, as you know,\" I said. \"And as king I'd be expected to command the military forces of the kingdom. I mean, that's sort of the nature of king-hood, holding a monopoly on the use of force. And her kingdom has long had a tumultuous relationship with their neighbors, and I just feel, if I became king, I'd have to severely compromise my principles of pacifism in order to-\" \n\nMother flung out her wings with a gout of flame that scorched the stone around her, and with a single burst of energy took to flight. I stumbled backwards at the wind and the flame, craning my head upwards to watch Mother disappear into the sky. \"YOU'RE GOING TO DIE ALONE!\" she bellowed back down at me, and with three swift beats of her wings was a distant ribbon of black. \n\n\"Fine,\" I muttered, and settled down my head atop my arms. That spot where I'd picked off the scale was really starting to sting. \"Don't help me, then. You're the one who's never going to get grandchildren.\" "
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[WP] An atheist is having a debate with someone who ,unknown to him, is actually Satan in human form.
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"“After all the studies that were to search and prove and disprove… What do we have now? Nothing. How much closer did we get to having an idea of what God is like, scientifically speaking?”\n\nIt was three in the morning. A frowsty bar on the outskirts of London was practically empty, save for three lonely figures: a bartender lurking somewhere in the background, a young man who was noisily, yet with a notable lack of enthusiasm, expounding on something, and the listener - me. \n\nI frankly lost the count of how many times I visited humans. With all the wretchedness and derangement and lack of sense, there was something so hopelessly attractive in them - their emotions. Strong, intense, destructive - they would develop to degrees so dangerously high that even I would shiver. Something utterly unobtainable to me personally, it was a beautiful, mesmerizing sight.\n\n“ ..wars. If God is real, how does he let people kill for the religion, when it was him who oh so fiercely prohibited murder?”\n\nI listened. And in between his unprotected words, I could see it all - all that radiated through his intoxicated glimpses. All the insecurities. The pitiful resentments that were held in for too long. The empty anger. The tireless desire to hide away. \n\nAnd I saw her. I saw her very clearly, and she looked nothing short of perfect in his mind. I saw the car crash, too. Such a careless, stupid mistake. The call. And pain, a lot of immense, numb, emptying pain… It has been a year now.\n\nAnother thing intrigued me, though. I witnessed myriads of human souls before, yet never something of resemblance. I could see light - or, rather, a small, yet relentless sparkle. For the first time ever, I was not disgusted with a human being. His atheistic justifications that I already heard countless times, word-in-word, did not repel me. He was not obnoxious. Just lost.\n\nHe would have been a good fellow, this nineteen year old kid. Maybe he would become a pediatrician. Maybe he would have joined the tireless search for, and later discovered a cure to some human disease. Or a firefighter? Or maybe he would turn his powers to finding a way to end poverty. Books would have been written about him after his death. That is, if the death didn’t happen too early. My gaze has now turned upon several empty shot glasses next to him. I always found it peculiar how humans praised this weird substance for doing irreversible things to their health and, sometimes, lives. \n\nHis last words were ringing in my head as I quit the bar. It was four in the morning, starting to dawn. “Gonna have a shitty morning..” Optimistic. Little do you know, my poor lost soul. \n\nNext to the bar, I saw a single vehicle parked. Everything was all too clear. Barely having even looked at it, I continued moving. But something was atypical, something was out.. What is this quivering heavy sensation in the chest and at the corners of my eyes?!..\n\nWithout fully realizing what I am doing, I returned to the vehicle and, finding some old nail on the street, poked the wheels, all four of them. Then, this time without looking back, walked away. Away from the bar, the vehicle, the humanity, all while trying to ignore this novel sensation.",
"\"You know, the greatest trick that _I_ --er, I mean, _the Devil_ ever pulled, was to convince the world that _I_-- oops! Ha ha. I mean, _the Devil_ does not exist.\"\n\n\"Yeah well that's all a load of crap anyway. The Devil doesn't exist, God doesn't exist, Heaven-- none of it.\"\n\n\"Ok then, surely you would have no qualms about signing your immortal soul over to me, then?\"\n\n\"Done and done!\"\n\n\"See you in Hell, sucker!\"\n\n * Poof *!",
"“Not following your family in?”\n\nBrian looked up, startled. Standing above him was a slim man in a powder blue sports jacket and white slacks. He gave Brian a faint smile. Normally, Brian would ignore any strangers that approached him. This Starbucks was notorious in being a panhandlers hub but there was a warmth in this man’s eyes that spoke of inexhaustible understanding. And it made Brian want to answer that warmth. \n\n“My family?” he echoed. \n\nThe man made a slight motion with his chin towards the church across the street from them. \n\n“I saw you dropping off your family there,” he replied, taking a seat next to him without invitation. “Your wife and son. But you didn’t follow them in.”\n\nFrom the outdoor patio seating, you could see the last few stragglers hurrying into the church, walking through the doors in that exaggerated tiptoe manner that all latecomers had. \n\nBrian shook my head. “No, I’m just the chauffeur,” he said. \n\nThe man’s eyes were a rich brown with flecks of green. They were wide set with lines of jocularity edging the corners. He would’ve looked like a kind high school science teacher Brian had once had in school except for the sports jacket. The powder blue color looked far too superficial for a man of such depth. \n\nThe man tilted his head in curiosity. “Why is that?” he asked. When he saw Brian’s hesitation, he gave a brilliant smile, instantly meant to reassure him. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry but I come to this Starbucks every Sunday and I always see you walking back after dropping off your family and I’ve always been curious as to why you don’t go in with them.” He gave a little shrug and smiled. “I guess today I’m curious enough to finally ask.” \n\nOn any other day, asked by any other man, Brian would’ve told the person to fuck off and mind their own business. He would’ve felt disturbed and thoroughly creeped out by a man noticing his weekly behavior. \n\nBut again, those warm brown eyes and that smile of familiarity, as if they were already old friends, swayed Brian. \n\n“Church really isn’t my thing,” he said with a slight, awkward shrug. “My wife is the religious one.”\n\n“But your son?” the man pressed. “Won’t he be growing up religious as well since he’s going to church with your wife?”\n\nBrian gave that same awkward shrug that was really more of a quick meeting of his shoulder blades than anything else. \n\n“Don’t most of us start out that way?” he said with a grin that was meant to be tongue in cheek but lost its bite in the face of the stranger’s solemn face. “I grew up religious and then later made up my own mind about the ways of the world. I’m sure my son will be able to do the same, when time comes.”\n\nThe man pressed his lips together and nodded as if taking in everything Brian was saying with heartfelt sincerity. It made Brian suddenly feel a little important. He quickly forgot about his cup of Americano and folded up paper. He instead wanted this man to look at him again with that strange gaze of familiar understanding. \n\n“And what kind of mind did you make up?” he asked. \n\nBrian leaned in, confused. “Pardon?”\n\n“What kind of mind did you make up about religion?” the man clarified. \nBrian was about to answer but he paused, his mouth open, as he narrowed his eyes at the man. \n\n“You’re not a preacher, are you?” he asked, suddenly suspicious. That warm look and gentle voice was exactly the kind of mannerisms you’d find in a preacher. \n\nThe stranger laughed. His laughter was soft and easy going like his speech. He shook his head. “No, not at all. Just a curious stranger,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with humor. \n\nBrian relaxed again. \n\nA car drove by, careening out of the tiny strip mall parking lot. A smell of something rubbery and burning wafted towards them. \n\n*Goddamn idiot drivers.* Brian gave a quick glare towards the reckless vehicle and tried to ignore the smell. \n\n“So religion,” the man said, redirecting Brian’s attention back to the matter at hand. “Not for you, eh?”\n\nBrian shook his head. “Not once I got older,” he said. “It’s easier to believe all of that when you’re younger. As a kid, your life is already defined by your dependence on others. On adults, parents, teachers. It only makes sense that you’d also be dependent on a god.”\n\nThe man opened his hand and then closed them, pressing the fingertips together. Brian noticed how long and elegant the man’s fingers were. \n\n“I don’t think dependence has an age limit,” he said ruefully. “I’m sure most people find they depend on things well into old age.” \n\nBrian nodded. “I’m sure,” he agreed. “Drug addicts and alcoholics don’t do it for kicks and giggles.” He quickly thought of his brother-in-law and his long battle with the bottle. “But I think as you get older and you start going out into the world, you start to see how much work you have to put into your life to just live. You realize how much input you have and how much your actions create direct causal webs. I dunno….It was hard to believe someone was up there in the sky pulling the strings after all that.”\n\nThe man tilted his head. “No family tragedies though? No personal traumas? Usually people leave the church because of some kind of brutal tragedy that leaves them shaken and wondering why a merciful God would do such a thing,” he said. There was a glimmer of humor in his eyes and Brian wondered if he was teasing him. \n\n“No,” he answered, deciding to be straightfaced. “Both parents are alive and healthy. My mother is actually a Sunday School teacher. Wife and kid are happy and healthy for the most part. I’ve got a good job and own my own house. Can’t ask for more, can you?”\n\nBrian grinned, figuring this was a good ending point for the conversation. It was a good, light way to end a discussion that could easily become heated and dangerous. After all, he didn’t know this stranger’s beliefs and didn’t want to unknowingly step on his toes by saying something offensive, even though it was the stranger who had initiated the conversation. \n\n“But that’s all the superficial stuff, isn't it?” the man asked. \n\nBrian raised a brow, surprised by the question. He sniffed and wrinkled his nose, getting another whiff of that pungent burning smell. Had another car driven by while he had been talking? He hadn’t seen or heard one. \n\n“How do you mean?” he asked. \n\nThe stranger shrugged and pursed out his lips. “Well,” he said broadly, “having a hard time believing there’s a man up in the skies who watches over whether you’ll get a traffic ticket or not can be rather hard to give credence to once you’re an adult. But what about beyond that?”\n\n“You mean, like the afterlife?” Brian asked. \n\nThe stranger nodded. “That’s one.” He said. “Or perhaps, the overall purpose of living. Of being.” \n\nBrian gave a little nervous chuckle. “Don’t you think that’s a little beyond my depths? I’m no philosopher. I barely passed my basic Ethics course in college.” He tried to make light again but somehow he felt a weight pressing on him. Those moments he had in the middle of a shower or right at the edge of sleep, those moments of deep, unknowable darkness, began to creep into the corners of his body. \n\n“But isn’t that what we’re doing?” the man pressed. “We’re working and creating a life in hopes that it’ll somehow illuminate us at the end, what it was all for. We do all these things in hopes that, at least on our deathbeds, we’ll know why we did it and where it’ll ultimately lead us.”\n\nBrian stared at the stranger. The warm eyes never lost its friendly glow but somehow the face had grown longer and the lines around his eyes and mouth a little deeper, lending an air of gravity that was a little daunting. Brian sniffed, that odd pungent smell wafting in again. Had another car skidded out?\n\n“What about you?” Brian asked. “Are you a religious man?” \n\nThe stranger stared at Brian for a beat before a slow spreading smile grew on his face. He looked amused. \n\n“I think to some degree I am,” he said. \n\nBrian coughed. The smell was really quite strong now. His eyes flicked around the quiet parking lot. Was something maybe burning somewhere?\n\n“And you believe in God giving us life and heaven and hell and angels and Satan?” Brian asked, a little incredulously. The man seemed so educated and refined. It was hard to believe he would really believe in something as ludicrous as demons and devils. \n\nThe stranger didn’t answer right away. He instead gave Brian a long and studying gaze, as if debating whether he wanted to reply or not. And if he did reply, whether he wanted to be honest or not. And that rattled Brian for a moment. The stranger didn’t strike him as a liar. \n\nFinally the man sighed, shaking his head. “I believe that sometimes cruelty can lie in the face of an angel,” he said, leaning back into the hard metal seat. The man looked at the round table and the cold cup of coffee. He smiled to himself as if momentarily forgetting Brian was sitting next to him. \n\n“Sometimes I wonder how fair it is to set up a world with just enough rules and clues as to how it operates. It’s like playing a game with every other word in the rulebook blacked out. You’ll never get the full story. And your chances of winning are just that—chance.”\n\n“Huh?” Brian asked, completely confused. “I don’t think I understand.”\n"
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[WP] The world leaders get together once in a while for a game of Risk. Tonight's game gets a little personal.
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"Kim stared in furry at the risk board in front of him. He'd done everything he could think of. He'd invaded Australia early in the game to provide himself with an inaccessible stronghold. Then he set his sights on South America. With only two entry points, it was easy to defend. But Vlad swept south from North America before he had the opportunity to secure his beloved continent. He had lost half of his troops within the first twenty minutes of the game, and was slowly being pushed out of Asia. \n\n15 minutes later all he held was Australia, and the lonely province of Kamchatka. He didn't even know how to pronounce that fricken place! No one cared about Kamchatka. He was losing, and losing fast. He felt Obama and Vlad's eyes piercing into his soul. Even Frank was silently judging his horrible skills as a strategic commander. Frank! He was French! \n\nThen, without any mercy, Shinzo, moved his massive army through Siam into Indonesia. It was over, it was all over. \n\nSweat poured down Kim's face. He quickly wiped is brow to distract the others while he slipped his hand under the table. No weapons were allowed in the game room, but Kim's top scientists had developed a 3D printer. Metal detectors were no match for his plastic, 9mm Glock. He didn't want it to come to this, but no one could know that their beloved Kim, the god of space, the man who doesn't defecate, the man who invented the internet, couldn't win a game of RISK against the imbecile Westerners who claimed to rule the world. They knew nothing of ruling! \n\nKim slowly took the plastic glock from under his belt. He pointed it directly between Shinzo's legs and pulled the trigger. \n\nThe bullet sped from the gun at lightning speed . . . . only to fall short. \n\nEdit: This is my first time posting here! Thanks for any feedback. I know it's a bit short. Sorry. "
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[WP] A group of heroes who wield the power of Friendship meets a villain that wields the power of Love.
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"I get the distinct feeling that the writer of this prompt intended that love should destroy the power of friendship through turmoil of the most insidious love triangle. \n\nSo here goes:\n\n\"Ah, I see you have bypassed my forces and stormed my stronghold\" the insidious Dark One chortles, standing alone at the precipice of his artificial cliff face. \n\n\"That we have, it was child's play, considering you are pitting yourself against our flawless teamwork. You chose the wrong friends to cross, evil louse!\" The mouthpiece of the trio was none other than the Lady of Ironveil, whose beauty and prowess was second to none other as well. And as her homeland belied, her will was just as strong. \n\n\"Good. You have arrived just in time to see yourselves utterly destroyed\" The Dark One sneered. \"You have underestimated my ultimate power!\"\n\n\"WHAT POWER?\" Ultheil spat. He was foreboding in his sheer mass, a mountain of valor. He was frankly surprised that even the Dark One stood before him in defiance, as no other had ever challenged him in so direct a manner before, much less he in accompaniment with his equally powerful and imposing friends. \"You cannot stand against us and our bond. We are unmatched, even by you, master of shadows.\" \n\nHis third companion answered in affirmation, bringing herself to her full height, and equally full cup size. \"You have no power, even here in your domain. Our bond is unbroken, and we shall bring the full weight of our union to bear in order to smite you utterly.\" The waifish yet lithe body of Veera the Enchantress certainly gave Lady Ironveil a run for her money, and her power certainly matched that of her closest friends. Her voice was quiet, yet it contained a note of deep warning that could not be merely shrugged off. \n\n\"But none of you have yet realized\" the Dark Ones voice dropped to just above a whisper \"that my power has already undone your alliance.\"\n\n\"LIES\" Ulthiel roared, lunging for the spectral villain, but seemingly as a shadow he flowed around the attempted blows, like dead leaves on wind through their own dead branches. \n\n\"You see,\" the Dark One continued, seemingly unconcerned with Ultheil's barrage, \"I have already woven my spells against you. Ask your sworn sisters-in-arms. Their part in this has sealed your fate.\" \n\nHis voice was like scraps of paper over the cobblestones in Ironveil then, and something in it hit Ultheil harder than any physical blow had ever hit, provided it could hit it's mark, which in this case it did. \n\nHe stopped mid attack. \n\n\"Of what does this wraith speak?\"\n\nHe knew. Of course he knew. Both ladies had rebuffed his efforts in the past. He- Ultheil- strongest and most valiant man alive, whom only goddesses could resist; and goddesses did he assume his closest friends were. They had the countenance and gravity of such after all. \n\n\"Ultheil. We assumed you knew. You had to have heard us in our tent every night...\" Veera began.\n\nBut Ultheil did not know, and it quickly dawned on the lovers what power the Dark One had been referring to. Ultheil's strength and speed approached divinity, and together they only had enough skill between them to mortally wound him before he abandoned his weapon and tore them apart with his bear hands. \n\n\"NO WOMAN CAN EVER RESIST THE CHARM OF ULTHEIL. IF I CANNOT HAVE EITHER OF YOU IN LOVE, THEN I SHALL HAVE BOTH OF YOUR LIVES HERE.\" Surely it was only the thousandth ultimatum that Ultheil had ever uttered, but no such ultimatum ever ended in the addressee walking away alive. Save one. \n\nThe addressee of several of those ultimatums stood behind him now. Over him, really. The great Ultheil had crumpled to his knees, covered in blood that he was unable to distinguish as either his own, or that of his two closest friends. He let out a ragged, wet, defeated sigh. \n\n\"You see, great Ultheil\" the Dark One whispered behind him, bringing his hand to rest on his great shoulder, \"all that it took for me to lay all of you low, was a simple breeze. It carried the scent of the Lady Ironveil to the lovely enchantress Veera one night as they left the fire and your company for dinner. There are no laws that bind love. It has no predilections. No rituals. I made your undoing with a gust and a scent. You sealed it with your conception that it was bidden unto you.\"",
"\"It hates the warmth,\" Benny said, nervously hitching up his jeans. A stray beam of light made his glasses shine in the sewer's gloom. \"That's why they huddled together in the dark. That's why they made fire.\" His reedy voice quavered and cracked, for just a moment becoming a man's. \"Stay close. Hold hands, everyone. It can't get at us then.\" \n\nThere were the five of them, standing back to back to back. Arms were linked, hands finding each other. Benny and Mike and Zippy and Todd and Jess. Zippy burbled and twitched and mumbled incoherently, and Jess pulled him closer and whispered nonsense phrases in his ear. \"Gross,\" Mike muttered, as Todd's fat sweaty hand closed in on his, but he pulled closer and held tight. \n\n\"It's a circle,\" Jess said. \"A circle, unbroken. That's what the journal was talking about! Just us, just us holding on to each other!\"\n\n\"You gotta be kidding,\" said Mike, and let out a high pitched giggle. He swallowed and set his teeth again. \"It's the frickin' power of friendship, is that it?\" \n\nThere were scattered laughs, a rise of warmth like a fire being stoked. Jess found herself pressed into Todd's soft side, and nestled into him. Todd looked at her in surprise, then managed a smile. \n\nIn the darkness, a thing hissed, like water touching flame. They could see it clearly now flowing through the darkness, pale and luminous like the surface of the moon. It scuttled around them, clinging to the tops of the sewer tunnels, moving on its many legs. It opened its mouth and showed teeth, lunged forward with an eyeless face and hissed and fell back. Its skin warped as if by heat, and Todd thought of mozzarella cheese, stretching out into a web-like series of holes. \n\n\"Yeah!\" screamed Mike. \"Take that! Take that, you piece of shit!\" \n\n\"Yeaaaagghrooo!\" Zippy cried, howling, ecstatic, and pulled the four of them forward with him, all of them moving as one fevered organism on ten scrambling legs. \n\n\"I've got the knife!\" Benny yelled, and felt in his pocket for the jagged piece of obsidian, a weapon carved tens of thousands of years ago to kill a creature just like this. \"Just keep holding hands! Stick together!\" \n\nThey maneuvered as one, hand in hand when they could, arms linked as a second-best. Benny brandished the knife, the creature slinking back hissing. They charged forward, cheering, laughing, driving back the beast.\n\n*I've visited with your mother*, came the voice in Benny's head. \n\nHe stumbled, and brought the others down with him. He was soaked up to his thighs in the murky water. \"Fuck!\" Mike said, and Zippy babbled a stream of curses while thrashing. \n\n\"It's okay!\" cried Jess, her hand already feeling for his. \"Get up! Get up! Keep holding on to each other!\" \n\n\"It's fine, we got 'im,\" came Todd's wavering voice. \"Jus' all of us stay together.\" \n\n*Your mother has no one to hold to, does she,* came the voice in Benny's head, its eyeless face fixed on him. *No friends to keep her warm. No one but you, and no one but me.*\n\n\"It's a lie,\" Benny said, so softly that no one else could hear him, even as their hands were on him, pulling him up. They were talking, they were babbling, but their words were a distant blur, cut out by the voice that threaded cold into his veins. \n\n*I am love,* it said, and Benny could see his mother curled up on the floor of their house, the empty bottles of whiskey scattered across the floor, her skin as cold and pale as the creature's. *I am the tie that pulls you in, I am the thread you cannot break. Benny, Benny, Benny, my beloved son. How could you hope to sever me?*\n\n\"Benny!\" came Jess's scream from behind him, hands on his back pushing him forwards. \"C'mon, man!\" Mike cried. \"You got the knife! It's right there! Just stab it!\" \n\nIn the darkened sewer tunnels, Benny saw the thread twisting outwards, the creature's tail, its umbilical, threading through the pipes like a glowing x-ray trail, through his house and up from their yellowed toilet bowl and down his mother's throat. He clutched the knife, and the creature twitched, and his mother spasmed on the floor and bubbled up vomit. \n\n*I'll kill her,* said the creature. *You know I will. The two of us will kill her together. But keep us safe, Benny. Do not break the thread. And I swear I will protect you, that I will bind you two together. They are your friends, Benny, but will they be enough when you cut the thread? When you kill her, when you come home to an empty house, will that be enough? What will you have left?*\n\n\"Benny!\" screamed Jess behind him, and Benny felt the vomit rise in his throat, felt the cold chill settle into his skin. There was a rush pressing at his back, a riotous and urgent provocation, half-a-dozen hands gripping at him and burning into his skin. He gripped the knife tight, held it up to a chorus of cheers. \n\nAnd then he turned around, thrusting wildly, and saw the sheer betrayal in their eyes, and with a hot flush of rage buried the blade into Todd's fat gut. ",
"\"Dark Sorceress Ayane, your evil ends here! You might have beaten us once, but we've learned from our mistakes. We've grown as friends. And now, the Starlight Crusaders stand united, and...\"\n\nThe villain turned to face them in a swirl of black robes. Her laugh echoed around the dark cave.\n\n\"Darling, I've waited so long for this moment!\"\n\n\"...with our powers combined... wait, what?\" Starlight Crimson stopped mid-pose. This was *not* how the final showdown was supposed to go.\n\n\"I've missed you, so, so very much. You awakened feelings I never knew I had. I'd almost forgotten it... in all my schemes to claim power, I forgot that the greatest power of all... is Love.\" Ayane laughed evilly. \"How ironic that you should be the one to remind me.\"\n\n\"What are you saying? You're in love with me?\"\n\n\"Renko, is there something you need to tell us?\" A few chuckles sounded from the assembled magical girls.\n\n\"What? No! Quit laughing, she has to be up to something!\"\n\n\"Oh, darling, there's no trickery here. I love you honestly and purely. I love your smile. I love your heroic speeches. I love your fierce bravery. I love your adorable sailor uniform, your boots and gloves and tiara. I love how you're always there for your friends, in costume and out of it. You are everything that I have ever wanted in a companion. Sometimes I dream of just abandoning my mission and joining you at a human school.\" She smiled wryly. \"I might be a demon, but I'm not that much older than you, really. We'd be a cute couple.\"\n\nBehind them, Starlight Viridian was whispering under her breath. *\"Scales of Libra, judge the truth of these words.\"*\n\nHer eyes widened. \"She's not lying, Ren. She's honestly in love with you.\"\n\n\"That doesn't matter, because I'll never love her! You corrupt men's minds and steal their souls! If you really cared about me, you'd stop fighting and let us purify you!\"\n\nAyane sighed heavily. \"That's what makes this so painful. I cannot go against my nature. I and my fellow demons will die without a human's life force to feed upon. And letting you purify me would just be a different sort of death. I love you, but there are some things even the power of love cannot do.\"\n\n\"Then we've got nothing more to say to you.\" Renko dropped into a fighting stance. Her friends nodded assent.\n\n*\"Arrows of Sagittarius!\"*\n\n*\"Claws of Leo!\"*\n\n*\"Blades of Gemini!\"*\n\nRenko nocked an arrow and took aim at the sorceress. \"This is the end!\"\n\nAyane met her gaze, but there was no malice in her eyes. \"It doesn't have to be. We don't have to fight. We could run away, together. Your magic, and my lore... we could start a new life, no life-draining monsters or demonic rituals. Just the two of us.\"\n\nRenko's face softened, just for a second. Then she drew her bow taut and her eyes filled with resolve.\n\n\"...I see. But love doesn't give up so easily.\" Ayane held out a hand, and her magic spear appeared in a flash of fire.\n\n\"Oh, I know where this is going.\" Starlight Azure smiled. \"I've seen this movie before, and it ends with you trying to lock Crimson in a dungeon because you think you can force her to love you. Freaking pervert.\"\n\n\"Lock her up? Gods and devils, no! I could never do that to the one I love! Renko would hate me forever!\"\n\nShe gave the magical girl a wicked grin. \"If you love something, set it free. I'll blast away those friends of hers without harming one hair on my darling's head!\"\n\nAzure smiled as she readied her twin swords. \"Bring it on. If there's one thing I know about Ren-chan, it's that she never abandons her friends!\"\n\n\"And if there's one thing *I* know, it's that I love Ren-chan, and no force on earth can stop a warrior of love!\"\n\nBright red flames erupted around the sorceress. She twirled her spear and settled into a fighting stance, a wide smile on her face.\n\n\"If you think the power of friendship can defeat the power of love, then prove it to me in battle!\""
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[WP] One morning as you head out to work, you come across a small thin fox sitting on your doorstep. When you try to shoo it away, the fox looks at you and says meekly "I'm hungry..."
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"She sequentially taps black tipped claws atop the ctrl button. A wispy tail, like a hairy worm, caresses the base of the screen. Everyday she looks into me and begs with her heart and soul that I feed her. Everyday I ignore her and push those tiny paws and ginger bottom from my keyboard. \n\n\"Feed me.\" She whispers playfully but loud enough for those around me to hear. It must break the noise of idle chatter, keys tapping and coffee being sipped. But no. They do not hear my little fox. My starving, beautiful little fox. \n\nI've tried to feed her. There is nothing that seems to cross our two worlds, apart from us. Or maybe it is she who has crossed and is stuck in between. Somehow linked to me but not anything thing else here.\n\n\"Feed me.\" Dark brown eyes seem to tear up as she begs again.\n\nThis little fox that haunts my days. I want to call her Alice. I know it is not. And I cannot. It is too difficult. Am I to sit here and watch her fade away.\n\nThis is my punishment. The beautiful fox must die and I must do nothing. Again.\n\nShe climbs across the keyboard and onto my wrist while I type. She curls into a red ball of patched hair and sleeps. She wont disturb me again today. \n\nTomorrow she will want to be fed again.",
"It's been three months since I first encountered the little fox. One morning I found it sitting on my doorstep as I left for work. I opened my front door and at my feet was a beautiful white fox, it was unnaturally thin and its tail looked more like a wisp of smoke. I nudged it with my foot to see if it lived or was stuffed and just as I was about to disregard it, it moved its head, looked me directly in the eyes and said: \"I'm hungry.\" Since then the little fox has appeared everywhere, yet no one but me can see it.\n\nThe fox has appeared on my shoulders while I've been mid-conversation yet no one has commented on it. The fox has said nothing but \"I'm hungry\" over and over. Even if I try to initiate conversation with it, it merely replies with \"I'm hungry.\" I've attempted to feed my fox various meats, fruit, sandwiches and it has eaten nothing. It merely stares at the food, then looks back up at me and repeats \"I'm hungry.\"\n\nOthers merely pass through the fox when she appears before them. In the time I've known the fox I've never once seen anyone else touch or even notice the fox and it's worrying. I've come to call her Draugr for that is what she is, a ghost. I don't know why she chose me, or how I can help her. But I do know that I'll continue to search until my beautiful little Draugr can finally be free."
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I'm picturing her stepping off a curb, but it can start in any way.
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[WP] One day you stop a girl from being hit by a bus. The moment you pull her back, you realize she is death, and you have just made a horrible mistake.
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"It was like time had stopped. Just a moment before, she had been staring a bus down with cold, grey eyes. Her black hair had a been a picture of chaos dancing in the wind. I had no idea how she had gotten in the middle of the road, but now she was in my arms staring into my soul. I had made the biggest mistake of my life; in that instant, I fell in love with death.\n\nAs quick as the moment had begun, it was finished and she was gone. I didn't get her number, but she sat in a corner of my heart and at the front of my mind. A week later, I saw her on a bridge. She was on the ledge, poised to jump. My heart had practically leaped from my chest - to see her again was like dumping an ocean on a beached whale. I had stopped her from jumping, reliving the moment from the bus when I had first met her.\n\nShe had now consumed me. She was all that I thought about, all that I wanted, all that I needed. A few days later, I saw her in an alley with a bottle of pills in her hand. I whisked them away from her and grabbed her close. I could almost taste her lips, her cool touch brushing my senses. It was as if her goal in life was to torment me, to tempt me, to tame me.\n\nNow, she stood in my bathroom. My razor was in her hand, and she stared at me with those captivating grey eyes. Or were they red, now? I reached to stop her, but I paused. The rush was there, the elation. It was like all the other times, but something wasn't right. The pause was over, and I had her in my arms. Her touch was colder than before, her eyes greyer. I could now feel the breath from her lips. My heart began to beat fast.\n\n\"Stay.\" I heard myself say. She smiled and whispered, \"No, come.\" I was confused at first, but her touch reassured me. I belonged with her, I knew, and I didn't want her to go. I looked down to take the razor from her, but saw that it had always been in my hands. Her cool touch spread up my arms, and my teeth gave an involuntary shutter. My vision blurred for a moment, and then became crystal clear.\n\n\"I'm with you now. I'm sorry it took me so long.\"\n\n"
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[WP] An outside being comes to Earth to tell us what would have solved our problem. The only solution turns out to allow one huge event to take place that is currently outlawed/seen as detrimental to humanity.
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"\"Disgusting!\"\n\nA representative from Poland shouts. His words are both echoed and ignored by the floor, as the outrage against the beings words poured out.\n\n > This planet can only truly sustain 500 million optimal humans. You have the technology to introduce a proper Eugenics program. Within three generations-\n\nThe unruly crowd nearly revolts, and the being slowly levitates upward, away from the podium and the microphone it spoke into. \n\nIf the creature could sigh, it would have. \n\nIt never wanted to use force. It never wanted to use coercion.\n\nSome species took the hint. Others went along begrudgingly.\n\nSome needed a few indecent nudges.\n\nHumanity was a rare breed indeed. Despite the noise, it could hear every single persons shouts in that room. Every mumble. Every thought.\n\nThis event was being televised. The being could hear those distant voices too. \n\nA few people actually committed violence against their own equipment, in the privacy of their own homes, they were so incensed. \n\n > I will return in one year. Your plan will be outlined, ratified, and obeyed by your governments.\n\nShouts were crazed. Threats were levied. Defiance was outright.\n\n > Or those governments and the people they represent **will be dismantled**"
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[WP] You are pooping in the Secret Unused Bathroom in your Office when suddenly you hear a noise.
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"I'm not sure if you understand the heart-dropping moment when you hear a sound when you're certain no one is around. I would have shat out my heart if it weren't for the fact that there was currently excrement peeping it's head out to greet the world. The moment you become cognizant of the vulnerable state that is shitting with your pants pulled down to the ground and your pale thighs are greeting the cold bathroom air, it stops all want of excrement. But the moment I heard the lone footstep sound on the pearly white linoleum tiles of the bathroom, the lone nugget plunged into the depths of the toilet with a solemn plunk. My heart skipped over a beat as my eyes raced to the opening under the stall. There was a shadow behind the stall. It stood, cast by the pale light of LEDs. The half-cut head that was preparing for ejection sucked back up into my rectum. There was a deafening silence only broken by dim buzzing. I heard more noises.\n\n\"Is this the place?\" Some voice that sounded vaguely male whispered far off to the corner. Small shuffling and squeaks of shoes ensued. I pulled my legs up and away from the stall opening.\n\n\"Steve should've known that we don't just do MineSweeper on the computers during work.\" The voice that replied sounded like a /u/coollegolas, I thought. That insight came to me like some divine voice whispered into my ear.\n\nI couldn't hold it out for any longer. I made a mistake by posting on Reddit and thinking the white, male, twenty-something year old, Game of Thrones fan would be productive at work. I pulled up my pants with my plaid boxers. It was time for confrontation.\n\nI sucked up my shit and took a breath, then swung open the stall door with the momentum of deforestation by humankind in 25 years.\n\n\"This is my bathroom kiddos. Now, if you're a man, you'll get out of here so I can cry manly tears of regret by trying to get karma.\"\n\n\"/u/tugnasty? Is this where you've been going on coffee breaks while we're discussing what the biannual conference should be held on?\" He looked at me with disbelief. \n\nSuddenly the pinkish discoloration on the wall by the sink blurred and grew larger, until some pale shrimp with glasses and a funky lightning tattoo on his forehead burst out of nowhere.\n\n\"Where am I? The next training session before He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is vital to our victory!\"\n\nI had no idea who this British shrimp was exclaiming, but when he whipped out a \nstrange intricately polished stick, I had a hunch this wasn't a good place to be.\n\n/u/coollegolas also seemed to be on the same page as I was, so we both backed out of the bathroom in a 'slightly-creeped-out' manner. I noticed the familiar buzz of some unknown source had disappeared. It was also significantly brighter than when I had entered the bathroom twenty minutes ago.\n\n\"Wasn't it four in the afternoon?\" I shot to /u/coollegolas.\n\nHe nodded in agreement, but no later I heard people talking in the Ghost Town area. There were numerous voices murmuring in the background. I quickened my pace to see what was going on.\n\nI stepped out to the conference room to be confronted by a crowded room with a Power Point Presentation being presented in Comic Sans.\n\n\"And this concludes the 1996 bimonthly company overlook! We're looking forwards to another productive two months and I hope we'll get another couple interns to run the coffee and Xerox machine!\"\n\nI peered back at /u/coollegolas in disbelief.\n",
"\"Rocket shit\" is what I liked to call this particular type of poop. the kind where you need to brace yourself by placing your hand on the wall or by grasping the toilet seat. If you fail to do so, you run the risk of flying and hitting the drop ceiling and creating a mess of the place. This was my favorite place in the office. nobody ever used this toilet. I can sit her for up to 30 minutes and just relax. \nNow, let me explain, anyone who has worked at an office can understand that the only \"capital T true\" break you ever have is a poop break. because with a coffee break or lunch break, you can be called back to your desk, or into a meeting or into some conversation you don't want to have. The moment when you're sitting on the shit-hole is the only time nobody will talk to you. \nnobody wants to talk to a shitting man, even less a woman. As an aside, I once was told that women will stop shitting when another woman is in the washroom, like in another stall or something. isn't that madness!?\n\nAnyhow, back to the story. There's this one fucking guy named \"Jumbo\" (nobody seems to know how he got that nick-name or if it is in fact a nick-name). Jumbo will actually talk to you while your on the can. This asshole just doesn't fucking get it, for a while, he was ruining my shits. I didn't enjoy them anymore, I thought of quitting at one point.\n\nthis is, until I found this place! I was hung-over after a night of cheeseburgers and liquor at my favorite restaurant, at the time it was called \"The Empty Fortress\". In my hungover state I wanted darkness more than anything, so I walked to the half of the office that's vacant (call center got moved to the Indonesian or some other shit-hole). after recovering for 43 minutes I got up and poked around until I found it. My home away from home. It was beautiful, I could shit in peace for as long as I wanted. Without Jumbo fucking everything up. \n\nSo I was engaged in the middle of a rocket-shit. having a blast (haha). I'm about to finish up and get back to work when I heard a sound. The door opened and a chill fell over the room. Then I heard:\n\"Hey Mike is that you? I didn't know there was a second bathroom!\""
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[WP] The phone rings. You look at the caller ID and recognize the number of your childhood home. You pick up the phone and recognize the voice. It was yours when you were a kid.
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"My neck snapped up and a chill ran down my spine, in a way that only a vibrating phone on a wooden desk could startle me. *Why don't I just use the ringer?* I wondered to myself as I slid the phone off the desk and into my hands. I was used to the calls by now. I'm not sure how so many telemarketers, robo-callers, hell even debt collectors looking for someone I don't know...how did they all get my number? And who exactly *is* Emily and how much debt does she *have*? I was about to hit \"Reject Call\" when something caught me by surprise. The number seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. It *did* have the same area code as me, but that's not much of a surprise. *Oh well,* I thought to myself as I swiped the reject button and placed it back on the desk.\n\nIt was only by a fluke that I was at home right then. Some sudden construction had made our office building \"unable to be occupied,\" whatever that means. Means I work from home, I guess. I did have an important conference call coming up, but not for another hour. Reddit open in the other tab. Why not?\n\nThere it was again. Another call. Same number? Really? I look at the number for a little longer this time. *Oh, you stupid brain!* Now *you remember?* I did know the number. It's the first phone number I ever learned. *My* phone number. The number for a house I haven't lived in since I was a kid. Ten years old? Maybe earlier? When did we move? Ah, who cares. Phone numbers are re-used all the time. This isn't that ridiculous.\n\nStill, it's a hell of a coincidence.\n\nShit, I answered. What was I thinking? Did I want to say, \"Hey, I know this is strange, but you happen to have the same number I did when I was a kid!\" Oh well. Might as well talk now. I gently brought the phone up to my ear and tried a, \"Hello?\"\n\nThere was a long silence. Maybe it just felt long, I don't know. Then, I heard a kid's voice. \"Hello?\"\n\n\"Who is this?\" I asked. I wasn't sure why I was still on the line. Probably just a waste of time.\n\n\"Isaac? You're Isaac, aren't you?\" I froze. What was going on? \"I know you're there, say something.\"\n\n\"Yes, this is Isaac,\" I replied. \"Who is this?\"\n\nI heard a scream, and a loud shout of the word, \"YES!\" Then, \"I knew it would work, I just knew it!\"\n\n\"Knew what would work? Who *is* this?\" I felt increasingly uneasy but for some reason I hadn't hung up yet.\n\n\"I'm you,\" the kid said, \"Twenty years in the past!\"\n\nI couldn't help but laugh. This was great. Must be an elaborate prank one of my friends set up. \"That's impossible,\" I said.\n\n\"Why?\"\n\nI shot out the first thing that came to mind. \"Well, first of all, this phone number doesn't even exist yet. Cell phones don't even exist yet. How could you call me if you don't know my phone number?\"\n\nThe kid laughed, which made me feel somewhat uneasy. \"I thought you'd figure it out by now,\" he said, then laughed even more. Finally, when it seemed like he was able to catch his breath, he said, \"Everyone knows your phone number.\"\n\nWhy did that make me feel angry? Was it because he gave me such a non-answer so matter-of-factly? Or was it because, perhaps, it was a plausible explanation to the volume of calls I receive? \"Alright then, Mr. Smarty-Pants,\" I replied. \"You can't call someone 20 years in the future, even *if* you know their phone number. It's physically impossible. What do you have to say to that?\"\n\n\"Magic,\" he replied.\n\nI laughed again. \"There's no such thing as magic, kid.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"Because it doesn't exist,\" I replied sternly.\n\n\"Prove it.\"\n\nOoh, man, this kid was pissing me off now. Why hadn't I hung up yet? Fine. \"Fine. If you're so smart, answer me this: you're calling me from 20 years in the past. Why can't I remember calling my future self 20 years ago?\"\n\nThere was a long pause on his end. Internally, I was gloating. I had won. \"Good question,\" he said. I grinned. Then, he said, \"Hold on a sec.\" I heard a tone. I looked at the phone. Call ended. Good riddance. I placed the phone back on the desk and pretended to get back to work.\n\nThen, the doorbell rang.\n\nI sighed as I locked my screen and headed for the front door. Looks like I wouldn't have to try to not get work done today. I threw open the door.\n\nIf I were in a cartoon, my jaw would literally hit the floor. Maybe I'd pass out. But there they were. Holy shit, there they were. They looked a little younger, but it was definitely them. I looked at my mom, who had less wrinkles and was slightly thinner, and then to my dad, who actually had hair! WTF?\n\nThen I looked down.\n\nIn front of them was a small kid, probably waist high on both of them. It looked like...but it couldn't be...\n\n\"Hi,\" the kid said. \"I'm you from twenty years in the past!\" He smiled. \"And I'm here to find out why you can't remember magic.\"\n\n---\n\nSince there was already a \"more serious\" response, I just decided to have fun with it. Enjoy.",
"I glanced at the clock again. 1:05 am. \n\nOnly four more hours until i'm free to leave this hell of a job. I put my head in my hands and rubbed my temples, willing my eyes to focus again after staring at the monitor for three hours.\n\n\"Mike!\" the shrill voice of Laura popped my small bubble of tranquility, \"You better not be sleeping Mr. Chate.\"\n\n\"Headache, Miss. I'm alright.\" I went back to typing numbers off the clipboard in front of me into the computer.\n\n\"I hope you get better. I expect you to finish inventory tonight.\" \n\n*Yes your majesty.* \"Yes ma'am.\"\n\nShe stalked away to torment some other poor coworker. Probably the janitor, she likes making him clean the toilets several times a night. It's too bad, Jack actually keeps the restrooms very clean, but Laura can't seem to deal with having an honest hardworking employee.\n\nI peek at the clock again and groan. 1:06.\n\nThe buzzing of my phone pulls me out of my haze. I recognize the number but I can't quite place it. 484-7968. That's...my phone number from when I was a kid. The house I grew up in, I remember my mom turning the number into a sing so i'd remember it once I started school.\n\n*\"Okay, you ready Michael?\" Mom smiled at me in the rear-view mirror. \"You know the phone number?\"*\n\n*\"Yup! 484-7968, now Mi-chael can call home, great!\"*\n\n*\"Good job rocket boy, remember that. If anything happens you call me, okay?\"*\n\n*\"Okay mama.\"*\n\nI answered the phone.\n\n\"Hello, is this the North Pole?\"\n\nI dropped the phone.\n\nI recognized the voice.\n\nI recognized *my* voice.\n\nNo, that's not possible. This isn't some Hallmark Christmas tale, this is real life. I'm working on Christmas eve...actually Christmas morning now. I'm not getting a call from Christmas past here, i'm getting a call from some kid, all kids sounds pretty much alike on the phone. \n\nI picked the phone back up, still somewhat shaken.\n\n\"Hello? Mister Claus?\"\n\nI managed to choke out a reply.\n\n\"Yes, this is Santa.\"\n\n\"It is! Hi Santa, you don't sound old.\" I could hear the smile in his voice.\n\n\"I'm younger than most people think. What can I do for you kid?\"\n\n\"Mama said maybe I could call about my Christmas list this year. She said she wasn't sure if you would be able to talk, I know you're very busy.\"\n\n\"Well, it is Christmas Eve.\" I chuckled despite the unimaginable conversation taking place. \"What did you want to ask for?\"\n\n\"I want to see the future.\" I froze.\n\n\"What future?\"\n\n\"My future silly!\" I could hear his laughter, gentle and innocent.\n\n\"You want to know your future?\"\n\n\"Yeah! Do I get rocket boots?\"\n\nPart of me wanted to tell him things to make his life better. Do the things I didn't do. Be good to mom. Convince her not to take that trip to California. Get the pipe in the wall repaired before it bursts. Don't date Luna Prince in the 11th grade or she'll tell the school you have lice. Don't take the year off after high school to travel, start working so you can save up for that engineering school. Dad is lying, he's not saving the money, it's all gone. Don't work ungodly hours to pay the bills. Don't hate yourself for getting caught in the vicious cycle of go to school so you can work and work so you can go to school. \n\nDon't be me. Don't be me. Don't be me.\n\nHe was still talking about rocket boots and race cars when I interrupted him to answer.\n\n\"Slow down kid,\" I tried to think about what I was going to say.\n\nI couldn't tell a kid that his life was going to get worse from here. Sure, people could use a nice dose of reality...but not when they're five.\n\n\"Okay bud, I can't tell you much, but I can tell you a little.\" I heard a small squeal of excitement and couldn't help but smile. \"Your future...is whatever you want it to be. You can do anything you dream of.\"\n\n\"Can I have rocket boots?\"\n\n\"Absolutely. Do good in school, study hard and go to college, and make them yourself, you hear me? You can be the inventor that gives every kid on the planet rocket books. Heck, you could take my place and become a new Santa if you did that.\" I could feel his smile through the phone. \"But I want you to remember something. Everything you do, do it for yourself. Be the best person you can be at everything. Be kind. Be good. Be strong, Most importantly,\" I took a deep breath, \"don't ever let anyone else slow you down. You go out and make the world work for you, don't just work for the world.\" I knew half of this wouldn't even register with him, but saying it made me feel like I could make a real difference. As if I could give this kid the chance I didn't have.\n\nIt was silent for a while before he answered. \"Okay Santa, i'll be good. And smart. And the other things you said.\" I smiled.\n\n\"Good to hear, kid.\" there was the soft noise of rustling from the other end, and then the sound of a bed creaking.\n\n\"Sorry Santa, I think mama heard me and i'm not allowed to use the phone.\" I laughed.\n\n\"I get it, Goodnight kid.\" \n\n\"Goodnight Santa!\" I lowered the phone before I had a sudden thought.\n\n\"Hey kid, give your mama a hug every day too. Be good to her, you hear me?\"\n\n\"I will Santa.\" He hung up.\n\nI stared at my phone for a while before I looked back up at the monitor and began typing more numbers. I glanced at the clock. 1:08 am.\n\nI groaned and dropped my head onto the desk.\n\n--\n\nThe door creaked open as he lay frozen under his blankets, pretending to be asleep but forgetting that sleeping people breathe too.\n\n\"Boy I know you're awake, you were talking on that phone again weren't you.\" She turned the room light on as a gentle sigh came from under the blankets.\n\n\"Yes mama.\" He sheepishly held out the phone for her to take back. She looked down at it and laughed a little.\n\n\"Why did you call the house phone silly?\"\n\n\"It's the only phone number I know.\" \n\n*Of course* she thought with a smile.\n\n\"Talk to anyone interesting?\"\n\n\"Yeah!\" he popped up in the bed, \"I talked to Santa!\"\n\n\"Santa?\" she asked confused, \"well what did he say?\" In response he wrapped her up in his small arms and lay his head on her shoulder.\n\n\"He told me to be good and hug you.\" She hugged her son tightly to her.\n\n\"That Santa is a smart man, \" she laughed, \"but now you gotta go to bed baby.\" She wrapped him back in the blankets and kissed him on the forehead. \"It's way past bedtime for you and me.\"\n\n\"Goodnight mama,\" he whispered sleepily.\n\nMama went to the door and turned the light off, smiling into the dark.\n\n\"Goodnight rocket boy.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] You've been hired by a "secret" organization that uses time travel only when Earth is in a critical state. Your mentor tells you that there has been 4 missions in total.
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"*enters the office* ahem.. well. I-uh- I would like to- uhm.. I would like to thank you all for accepting my application- to be honest, I wasn't even aware I had turned one in-- apparently I do so 20 years from now, but.. hey, I'm certainly very grateful for the opportunity! I-uuh.. I don't really know most of your names - I interviewed with Dr. Bluman, and naturally I met with Kelly from HR, and Steve in accounting.. uhm.. I hope to get to know you all much more over the next few years, as we work to create a more perfect earth!\n......\n\nIt all seemed so exciting then. My first day... A hero - that's what they told me. A champion of mankind. Ha. These assholes don't do anything.. when I heard they only had four missions, I assumed it was because only four truly catastrophic events had ever occurred- but no. They killed the dinosaurs-- apparently our original timeline had them living alongside us until approximately 1854- stuck on the \"new world\" they said.. the second time they went back was right after. Without the dinosaurs to keep the America's \"clean\" human civilization thrived.. that was, apparently, unacceptable. They went back in time, flooded the English market with cheap blankets... They.. They caused the smallpox invasion that decimated the natives. Noble hero's they say.. ha. I should've known, by being able to remember Hitler-- I guess I just assumed that they where looking at the bigger picture. Looking for bigger problems.. -sigh- I haven't got much time.. I'm sure my boss has caught onto my \"reservations\" about our newest mission he says I offered to join to prevent this very day.. said I'd been training for years to prevent this.. date 9-9-16, North Korea is going to begin their 6th nuclear weapons test in five days. It will succeed far better than they're expecting.. in five years time, they will have destroyed south Korea, and in 10, they'll destroy China, leaving a hole in the global economy and 1/4 of our planet will be rendered inhabitable as the radiation seeps from China, through Eurasia, stopping just short of Turkey. It's a noble goal, right?\n\nSo why is our mission to kill the Chairman's daughter, rather than stop their countries armament? They say her taking over the position is far more devastating than the nuclear bomb.. but removing that victory would also keep her from having that power - yet they don't listen. And so now.. now we will slaughter a mere child - no.. I will slaughter a mere child.. for though the organization can time travel, they cannot leave the office afterwards. That is why they hired me. I will be the one to pull the trigger. I will be the one who kills this kid... May God have mercy on my soul."
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[WP] A terminally ill child asks you what adulthood is like.
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"It was during a 'Make-a-Wish' spent on me, but it also wasn't the kid who asked for me that would floor me. \n\nWhen I walked into the hospital, they had the whole day planned out for us, everything had an itinerary. All I knew was, 'I was going to make this fan's day'. I didn't mind at all, because it gave me hope, seeing the faces of others who I inspired.\n\n\"Mr. August! Mr. August! Do you get goosebumps when you perform!?\" She says sitting in her bed. Her little bald head and a smile bigger than I've ever seen. \"When I see your videos on Youtube, all I can think is, 'Wow! He gets to share this with us!' You're so cool!\"\n\nMy ego was a little in the way, I can't deny that, but I drank punch with her, had pizza, and we talked about all the places I traveled to play music. She asked, 'how did I do this' or 'what made me make this sound'. I just smiled, told everything I could and said to her, 'When you make it to your 20s, I'll help you, but you have to promise me one thing. Sing, sing with everything you have in your heart and let everyone experience your precious life'. Sometimes, being cheesy is required.\n\nWhen we finished, my manager was already getting my next event on the way and I would be boarding a private plane by midnight to Ibiza. As I walked out, I seen this boy laying in his room watching a old black and white television show. If his body wasn't so small he probably would have compared him to an old man. He wrapped his head with a bandage and held a juice box on his leg. I stop and watch him for a moment, long enough for him to notice me.\n\n\"Stop staring!\" He says in a low tone, and looks back at the TV.\n\nI walk by the door and say, \"What you watching?\" \n\n\"Casablanca. These stupid old people who are fake even in black in white. It's like watching a Instagram on a movie.\" He adjusted his seat and leaned away from me, as if he were saying 'go away' without having to state it.\n\n\"That was my grandma's favorite movie, it's not bad if you let it play out.\" I said looking at the screen, Ingrid Bergman was walking away from talking with Humphrey Bogart. \n\n\"Being an adult looks pretty bland, no one has any real goals except to love or be loved. Why would you waste your time on it?\" He seemed jaded at first glance, but why?\n\n\"Aren't you looking forward to being an adult?\" I say looking at him sitting in his hospital shirt and pants.\n\n\"No,\" he says putting the juice on the table hanging over his bed, \"What for? I'm going to die anyway? My parent's don't even come by often.\"\n\n\"They don't?!\" I lean against the door and look him in the face. \"Why?\"\n\n\"Because, they are always fighting anyway. Who wants to listen to arguments when they are dying, right?\" he leans back and puts his head flat on the inclined bed. \"Isn't it like that for you?\"\n\n\"No, heck no. I always try to be happy and visit people, arguing is a waste of time.\"\n\n\"Well, what do you do? Why are you happy?\" He says getting a little more upset.\n\n\"I'm a music artist. I get to play music I created and love to people all around the world. I get to meet and see everyone's face in their own moments of happiness, sadness, anger, joy, excitement, loneliness, or all of them at the same time.\" I pull out my Phone to play him a track I made recently. I put it down and the steady rhythm starts, a piano plays, and then a woman begins to sing. \n\n\"How?\" He says, with his face completely different from before, and genuine curiosity in his eyes. \"How did you get to do this?\"\n\n\"I was poor, but I knew what I wanted, and worked as hard as I could to get it.\" I say, sliding down onto the floor and look up at him from the bed, \"Then, I just kept making music, until someone heard me, and then they started showing other people stuff I made. Finally, people wanted me to play for them at different places, so they can hear what I can do live and see my face.\"\n\n\"No, not that. How... How did you make these sounds? Where did it come from? Inside you?\" He grabbed for his bed's remote and made the slant sit him straight up. \"What did you go through, to make it sound like this? Because it's how I feel but in my body.\"\n\n\"I struggled. I lived. I loved. I hurt. I cried. I got angry. I felt lonely. I needed to help. I also asked for it.\" I said putting my head back.\n\n\"I don't think I have time do to that.\" He said looking away at his IV drip. \"What is it like?\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" I say looking at the back of his head.\n\n\"What is it like to be an adult? A happy adult?\" He turns back to me.\n\n\"To be a happy adult?\" I look at the TV screen, Ingrid and Humphrey were still talking. \"It's being confused. Just like you are now, and trying to keep moving. We are no different than being small child, because we are still learning. Just a lot more responsibilities come. If there is an obstacle in your way or you have a goal to reach, you go to it and do the best you can while doing so.\"\n\n\"What about being happy? Are you happy?\" He says, looking at my clothes. I would loose them sometimes touring, so a lot of what I wore was less than a year old.\n\n\"Well, I can't say I was always happy. Avoiding being unhappy, isn't the road to happiness. Even having money, it doesn't make you happy. You can buy people, you can buy time, you can buy things, and sometimes it buys pain for you, but it doesn't make you happy. Happiness comes from knowing everything that lead you here, and creating it. It's making your decisions and living with them. Not because you have to, but because you want to. If you aren't hurting anyone or doing something that makes you feel bad, happiness is you. Have you ever felt a bunch of things at once?\" I say looking at him in the eyes.\n\n\"What do you mean? Like being mad and needing to pee?\" He says. I laugh and shake my head.\n\n\"No, like you feel like smiling because you knew you just got good news, but you remember everything that you had to go through to get it? Like sitting here, you could be lonely and upset. Or, you remember you were angry and wanted to cry. Then, you remember that you were happy with a friend or excited because it was pudding day. It's feeling all of that at once, and you know... How long it took to get the good news. The time, the effort, and patience.\" I could feel the tear in my eyes.\n\n\"Am I going to have it?\" He says with a blank stare.\n\n\"You have to keep fighting for it. Although, when you do, it will feel better than anything you have felt before. Yes, you're confused but it will be like that all the time. You just have to go and do your best, enter with boldness, do anything with all your heart, and you will always be happy. With yourself.\" I hang my head to keep myself from crying, because what did I know compared to this kid who fights for his life. Giving out advice, like he knows what I am talking about\n\n\"I don't really understand... I'll try to remember this, so I will someday.\" He leans back and stares back at the screen. I could see he was thinking, so I got up and was about to leave but he says, \"Don't. Not yet.\"\n\nI stand there and look at his body, he looked frail, but his demeanor changed from when I first walked in. He looked like he was ready to punch someone. \"Are you okay?\", was all I could think to ask.\n\n\"My mom lies to me, and always says, 'It's going to be okay'. My dad doesn't tell me everything thats happening, and it bothers me all the time. Most times, I wished people would just talk to me straight. I didn't notice until my sister told me that.\" The tears were coming down his face, \"thats why I always say, 'I'm going to die'.\" \n\nHe looked like he was going to loose his breath. I walk up to him but he holds his hand out to stop me.\n\n\"I want them to admit to me, that there is a chance I might... I want them to tell me stuff, even if don't understand, because I will someday.\" He put his hands up to his face to wipe away his tears, \"but I don't want to die. I want to be happy, I want to be in love, and I want to live.\"\n\n\"You...\" I say, but he stops me before I could finish.\n\n\"I know I can,\" He says looking at me with tears coming down his face, \"I'm going to fight for it, not for them, or you, or anyone else, but me. When I do, I am going to make music just like you do. Then, when the time comes. I'll be right beside you, I'll let them know I fought, I experienced happiness, and I became what I wanted to.\"\n\nI look him in the face, and could see he wasn't going to back down from his statements. I smile at him, and hold out my fist, and he bumps his against mine. All I say is, \"I can't wait to see you again.\" \n\nI think about him a lot, that determine kid.",
"*Beep, beep, beep...*\n\nIt just keeps droning on, and on. The only thing that proves this kid is alive, with how pale his face is, you would never know a smile can stretch from ear to ear and lights up the entire room. I don't know why I am here, hell I was only supposed to visit him once and then keep moving, part of my volunteer work. But... that stupid grin made me come back time and time again. To see that kid laugh and smile, hell it made me feel shit I hadn't in a while. \n\n\"Y-you're back?\" A soft voice covered the sound of the incessant beeping, and I felt a grin start to grow on my face.\n\n\"Yea buddy, I'm back. How ya feelin'?\"\n\n\"Like I'm Joker and fought Batman, and lost... ya know, great!\" He grinned that toothy grin, showing off his missing front tooth. \n\n\"Next time, you'll beat the bat\" I laughed, ruffling his sandy hair. \"Speaking of which, I found you a few new comics!\" I pulled the old copies of Batman vs Superman out of my bag and placed them on his lap. A small squeal of delight existed his small frame and he flipped the first one open and started to devour it. \n\n\"Harry?\" His small voice startled me as it broke the relative silence of the room.\n\n\"Yea bud?\"\n\n\"What is being an adult like?\" His soft voice came even quieter than usual, and it made me pause. \"I mean, I dunno what it is like to be an adult and you have been a kid AND an adult and I am pretty sure being an adult doesn't involve a bajillion machines hooked up to you. Is it as awesome as Batman and Joker make it look?\"\n\n\"Well.... being an adult means...\" I faltered, not sure what to tell him. I mean, a suicidal, depressed 40 year old doesn't really have a good grasp on what being an adult means. I glanced at his eager face and knew what I had to do. Reaching out and grasping his hand, I held on tight as I looked into those blue eyes. \"Being an adult is amazing, it is like being a big kid who has no rules whatsoever. You get to stay up as late as you want, live wherever you like and buy as many comic books as you want. It means getting to travel the world and meet hundreds of new people, fall in love and make memory after memory. You get to become a superhero of your very own, and protect the people you love.\"\n\n\"Really??\" His mouth fell open to form a small O shape\n\n\"Yup, and every day you get to wake up and fight demons to make sure they can never hurt the people you love. Even though these demons might be strong some days, they can always be beaten if you truly want it; but on the days that they get too strong, you can always reach out and ask for help.\"\n\n\"Like Batman and the Justice Leauge!\" \n\n\"Yea, just like Batman\" I chuckled, squeezing his hand. \"Sometimes these demons can cause panic or fear, control you to harm yourself or others, but they are not stronger than you or I. Than can and always will be beaten back, because that is your job. Even if you never have to face you demons of your own bud, there will always be someone else who needs your help, and will you be there to help them?\"\n\n\"Of course! I will always be there to help someone in need!\" His earnest voice matched the detemination I saw in his eyes as he gripped my hand fiercely. \"Harry.... do you have demons you fight?\"\n\n\"Yea bud, I do.\"\n\n\"Can I help?\"\n\n\"You already do, by smiling that big.\"\n\n\"Then I'm already on my way to being an adult! I can't wait till I am bigger, to be able to help everyone I can. It is going to be so cool, being a superhero just like Batman and Superman. And, and being an adult doesn't mean I have to stay in bed all the time, and I can make mommy and daddy stop crying all the time. I know they do, even though they try to hide it by going into the hall and talking with the nurse.....\" He fell silent for a moment, then, \"Harry?\"\n\n\"Mmm?\"\n\n\"What does \"ca-ncer\" mean?\" I felt the air exit my chest and I forgot how to breath for a moment.\n\n\"Umm... it... it means that you have your own demon to face already, and once you beat it, you will be the strongest superhero of us all.\"\n\n\"That's so cool! I definitely have to beat it now then!\" He let out a small yawn which caused the pallid skin on his face to stretch thin across his skull. \n\n\"Now, you need to get some sleep so you can get strong and become a superhero adult like me.\" I leaned in and kissed his forehead.\n\n\"Hey Harry?\" \n\n\"Yea bud?\"\n\n\"Y-You're my superhero, I know you can beat those demons better than anyone else! I-if anyone c-can, it is youu-\" His sleepy voice slowly faded out \n\n\n*Beep, beep, beeeeeeeeeep*\n\nThe beeping stopped and a solid noise took its place as his small hand went limp in mine.\n\n\n\"I'll beat them for you, I promise.\" I whispered into his hair before the nurses pulled me back and attempted to save what was already lost"
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[WP] You're a single rain drop falling from the clouds above. From the moment you form to the moment you hit the ground, describe that brief moment of existence in a poetic way.
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"The earth was in one of its moods today. \n\nI wafted over tall skyscrapers (a hilariously grandiose name), large patchworks of farmland, huge tracts of identical houses. I frowned at some of the coils of smog that oozed out of the corners of the land, nearly sneezing at the noxious vapors as they floated up towards me. \n\nSuddenly, I shuddered. A plane cut through me like a hot knife. Those things were always so hot. \n\nAs the plane flew by, I caught a quick glance of the faces pressed against the small oval windows. \n\nI suddenly wondered if those faces, now above their homes by thousands of miles, could also see the moods of the earth like I could. Or maybe, I pondered, it was only something that could be seen after years of practice. \n\nI liked the second theory better. It’d made me feel skilled and expert. \n\nI looked down again. \n\nYes, the earth was in one of its moods today. \n\nThere was a rowdiness to the waves and a tenseness in the mountains. I could hear the rush of activity from the people below as they moved at half a step faster than they did yesterday. \n\nI never knew what caused these moods but when it happened, I noticed. Of course I noticed. From my vantage point, I saw everything. And today, I noticed how the green plains looked a shade darker than usual and the wispy desert lands looked a little disorganized. The dunes more haphazardly formed. \n\nI sighed, a breeze bellowing forth from me. \n\nA rumble gurgled up from within the cloudy mass behind me. Perhaps today….Perhaps today would be the day. \n\nI squinted, noticing a small plane flying below me. It circled a bit before I saw a tiny shape appear from the rear of the plane. But right after it appeared, the figure jumped out, throwing his arms out like a crucifix and beautifully diving into the air. \nI admired the way the figure kept his form, looking graceful and calm despite his rapid increase in velocity. I could see the purple fabric of his jumpsuit billow against his tiny limbs as he fell. \n\nThen poof!\n\nA huge white marshmallow, a caricature of a cloud, bloomed out of his back. And suddenly, the figure was jerked up and the velocity disappeared. The rush, the gorgeous speed vanished. \n\nInstead, the figure carefully navigated the parachute as he slowly and leisurely fell back down to earth. \n\nI watched him till he landed. \n\nI wondered if he had taken the time to notice anything while falling. I always wonder that about skydivers. I’d seen plenty over the years. I’ve seen the adventurous ones that do acrobatic flips and turns as they fell. I’ve seen the shy ones that strap themselves to the front of another person, finding comfort, I suppose, in having some reminder of humanity as they fell thousands of feet. \n\nAnd yet, I wondered if any of them were able to take in the view that their altitude afforded them. Did they have enough time to see across the expanse of land they floated above? Could they see how the plates of the earth breathed and groaned, shifting trees, mountains, and oceans? Could they feel the different winds? Smell the scents of the globe they carried with them? \n\nI’d like to think they did but I doubted it. \n\nThey were falling too fast to recognize anything except the rush of falling itself. They were above everything and yet, I had a feeling that nothing seemed flatter and more two dimensional to them than the earth at that moment. \n\nI wouldn’t be like that, I thought. The rumble grew louder behind me. There were echoing claps that accompanied it now, cracking the skies like a nut. I sighed again, hoping but not praying. \n\nI wouldn’t be like that, I thought again. If I fell, I’d really experience it. I’d finally get to smell the different winds as I fell lower and lower in altitude. I’d get to see the finer details of the trees and waters I had so long watched over. I’d get to drown in the muck of smog, float in the breeze of open manure, plunge into the mugginess of swamps. \n\nI’d do all of it. \n\nI knew I would. \n\n*Crack! Crack!*\n\nI felt a shifting inside me. Slow but steady. My entire being pulsed and I could feel a pressure building up within me. \n\nI trembled with excitement. \n\nThis really might be it. Today really might be the day. \n\nI looked down again, savoring each curve, each groove. I wouldn’t see this sight again for a long, long time. If ever. \n\nI breathed in deeply, taking in that layer of smell where galaxy and life just meet. If I finally got my turn, I’d appreciate every level. \n\nThe pressure grew larger and large. My body curled, uncomfortably. \n\nYes, this was the day. This was my chance. \n\nIt was my turn. \n\nPressure pushed my body together. I shifted so rapidly and so suddenly, I lost consciousness and when I regained it, I found myself in a whole new world. \n\nI felt freer and yet more condensed than ever before. I could feel myself clinging to my old self by a precarious thread. I held my breath, suddenly realizing my even my breath felt different. More solid. Heavy. \n\nAdrenaline coursed through the skies. \n\n*CRACK!*\n\nAnd then I felt it. \n\nAir rushed through me. \n\nThe east wind! The thick mugginess of foggy mountains and thick tree lined bays!\n\nThe west wind! Oh that cool scent of open plains and warm harvests!\n\nOh the trees! How glorious the trees were! \n\nNo longer a mass of green and browns, they were lined with individual leaves, all achingly turned towards the sky, wanting our attentions but too far below to properly understand our love. \n\nBut now I saw them. Some with thin bristles, some with fat round leaves. And they all smelled so alive!\n\nAir rushed passed me like a vacuum. \n\nAnd I had never heard the oceans so loudly before. Who knew the waves were so vocal? I heard them pushing and shouting against each other as they fought for their right of way. \n\nBeautiful!\n\nOh and of course, the people that carve and shape the earth. How I have watched over them. I had seen them grow, their sheer population overwhelming me. \n\nLook at how different each of them looked! I wondered if we all looked them same to them from above as they had looked to us from below. I smiled, amused at the thought. \n\nNow I was reaching terminal velocity. \n\nI had seconds left. \n\nHad this been everything I had thought it would be? Had I appreciated everything I said I would? Had I taken in all the scents and sounds I had sworn I would?\n\nI took a deep breath, hard to do against the rushing air, and shouted as loudly as I could. And with what little control I had left, I turned around and looked up. \n\nSo that’s what we look like, I marveled, gazing up in awe at the whorling, sweeping, dancing clouds above me. Infinite shades of white and gray played upon every roundness, making it impossible for me to find the exact place I had come from. \n\n*We are so big*, I realized quite suddenly. \n\nThe air was now screeching to a whistle. Just a second or two left. I gazed up at the skies, unable to take in its sheer glorious size. \n\n*And so beautiful.* \n",
"We have gathered. We are greater. I am greater.\n\nThe voices of my brothers and sisters cease. I am alone now. Yet I am many, as they surround me. I can feel my mother drift away, or is it I who drifts?\n\nSo many. So quiet. But a monstrous voice cackles, and cracks through the dark on a mere whim. Silence returns, and again I drift.\n\nWhere do I go ? Can I change? Why do I drift? Why will no one answer me?\n\nI'm scared. Alone and scared. But strangely at peace. Why I wonder? Is it this feeling of an end? I feel something approach. \n\nA wall. A wall with no end. No escape. No hope. I understand now. I was abandoned. Left like all the others around me.\n\nI wait for the end...\n\n---\n\nVoices.... I hear voices! My family! We are together again!\n\nI ask how this is possible but my voice is carried off among the others. I gaze up to see our mother.\n\nShe is crying. But I do not feel sadness. I feel hope. She knows we go to someplace better. She knows she can not go with us.\n\nThe voices warn me of darkness beyond the wall. I try my hardest to let my voice out to be heard by mother, \"Thank you mother! Thank you!\"\n\nBefore the darkness took us, I swear I saw our mother smile.",
"I am ready. I feel myself coalesce out of the cloud and into a proper form. Around me I see others pull themselves into substance from the aether of the cloud and together we fall. \n\nI gather more mass as I pass through the cloud and I burst out, into the open air. Thousands of drops, like me and different, join me as I accelerate toward the ground. \n\nAs we fall and come to terminal velocity we are buffeted by the wind. Some of us join together and stay united for all time. Some of us connect with each other and then are blown apart again with pieces of ourselves mingled and mixed. Some of us journey alone through the whole fall. \n\nIn the end we can see it. The ground rushes up to meet us. Too late, I think of things I might have done, too late I think of drops I would have liked to touch and mix with for more than just a moment. And then... Nothing. A different nothing than the cloud. A new nothing. The beginning, perhaps, of a much longer journey as the misty splatter that was me starts the slow fall toward the sea."
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[WP] A man stranded in the woods is bitten by a cottonmouth.
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"I screamed as I felt the jaws clamp down on my arm. Jolting up I look at my wrist. Now,I am sure I must be hallucinating because there is literally an animal with a cotton mouth sucking on my arm. I am starting to think I ate something poisonous before going to sleep in my lean to.\n\nI jerk awake again, drenched in sweat and vomit, I look at my arm and my sock is lying on my wrist. The leaves I had made tea with now looked sinister. I made myself puke in an attempt to remove the chemicals from my system. In the corner of my eye I see something move. I look and it's the same fuzzy animal I dreamt about.\n\n\"The fuck?\""
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[WP] "What exactly do you want my soul for anyway? It's not a very good one..."
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"It is the year 2066, and a recent medical prowess has allowed a scientific miracle to take place: after decades of trial and error in stem cell recovery research, it has finally become possible to replicate any human organ at will. Obviously, the first result of this discovery was a drastic drop in deaths related to organ failure, leading to the possibility of theoretical immortality for those wealthy enough to invest in it. \n\nBut it also created a shift in the black market, specifically the divisions dealing with organ harvesting. Now that it’s possible to recraft any body part without too much effort, only top notch hearts, kidneys, livers and whatnot are worth being bought. The drastic rise in offers and drop in demands made vital parts’ prices plummet, with only brains keeping a notable advantage. Those were still a bit tricky to replicate, but that wouldn’t last. \n\nAnd thus the leaders of the underground biological research network managed to come up with another human commodity that no stem cell could ever replicate. At the price of some incredibly unethical and stupendously metaphysically improbable experiments, it is now possible to purchase human souls for truckfuls of dirty, dirty cash. Granted said souls were pure, of course. \n\nAfter a string of unfortunate professional dismissals, I was starting to become worryingly low on cash, and had decided to try my luck at selling some of my innards before the total shutdown of the local market. Although organ regeneration was readily available, it had a tendency to be a somehow uncomfortable and gruelingly lengthy process, thus receiving a brand new totally healthy squishy part was still a better alternative for some. \n\nSo after being subjected to some pretty invasive tests at a very sketchy clinic, I waited to hear which of my organs the so-called “doctor” deemed worthy to sell. \n\n“You have some pretty impressive assets, Miss Colette, but quite honestly I have my eyes set on that lovely little soul of yours”. \n\nI had considered that he might tell me that, but seeing as I was selling my stuff willingly (versus being clubbed in a dark alley and stripped of them), he probably knew that I wouldn’t give my soul up for cheap. Besides, to be quite honest, although I’m not a horrible person per se, I’m still pretty sure that my tangible bits are in way better shape than the ethereal one. \n\n“What exactly do you want my soul for anyway? It’s not a very good one…”\n\n“Well, Miss… um you know… the demands are rising and um… it’s always good to have a spare one around... ”\n\nI’m pretty good at figuring out liars; takes one to know one. And this one was definitely fibbing.\n\n“Oh come on. We both know that a soul has to be crisp and ironed to be worth anything at today’s rates, and I’m pretty sure your little machine showed you that mine is… tainted. Besides, I’ve never smoked nor been exposed to it, nor have I ever drunk alcohol or even had a sip of soda. Organs as healthy as mine are almost a myth these days, and you could easily find buyers. Hell, I even checked eBay earlier today, and mint condition grey matter can still get you enough to buy a decent yacht!”\n\nHe looked at everything but my eyes as he mumbled a few more barely intelligible arguments:\n\n“You know… my wife… works in Wall Street… says value will reach 5 thousand per gram soon… very good investment… thinking on the long term, heh! Uhm…”\n\nI grabbed his temples flat between my palms and forced my stone cold grey gaze on his:\n\n“Doctor Lars, you’re lying. Tell me what you want, now.”\n\nHis face turned pale, beads of sweat trickling from his bushy eyebrows, down the bridge of his crooked nose, all the way to his thin, chapped lips. He lapped at them with the tip of his tongue, as if he needed them to hydrate his mouth before he could speak again:\n\n“L-Look. Our scanners indicate that you have no moral compass whatsoever. Do you have any idea how much people would pay to be able not to care?”\n\nHuh. I’d never thought of it that way. As I looked back at my twenty five years on this planet, not one ounce of guilt seemed to resurface. Sure, I’d never committed any criminal act but… why not? \n\n“You know what, Doc? You’re right. I do have no moral compass whatsoever.”\n\nBefore he even had time to process what was happening, I kneed him right in his potential offspring bearers. As he bent over in seemingly excruciating pain, I punched and kicked at every part of him that I could reach until I felt his skull crush beneath my heel. \n\nI took the guy’s wallet, stripped it of the generous amount of cash that laid in a hidden pocket, and grabbed a few souls for the road. My money issues were solved.\n\nHow had I not thought of this before? \n\n"
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[WP] You negotiate with a contract killer every day to spare your life. One day, after suffering a tragedy, you no longer feel like living any more and stop negotiating with him. He calls you, concerned, asking you what's wrong.
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"I've made a career out of death, but I never thought it would happen to me. Today I will live out my last day in this world. My last day surrounded by the evil on this earth. I made peace with myself. I was scared at the beginning, though I was careful to show them no fear. \n\nThe *voice* can sense fear, they are counting on it.\n\nI know what the voice wants to know, and that's why he came for me. They sent him after me. I should have seen it coming. I made a mistake and it will cost me my life. These are the rules of the game. I thought I was safe, I took every sensible precaution to stay hidden. I used no credit cards, I contacted no one, I did nothing online, I paid cash for the motel. \n\nIt wasn't enough, and now I’m trapped in this room where I sense them watching me with their hidden cameras. I'm likely in a safe house, I could be anywhere. They have the means to make me disappear and they will, but first they need what I know. \n\nI stay silent. They will be monitoring my heart rate, skin conductance, analysing my behaviour. I should know, I've done this many times. The voice will call again soon. They will make me negotiate for my life again, today will be different, this time I’m the one in control. \n\nI almost smile and I feel like myself again, just for a brief moment. I am careful to show no outward sign of my thoughts and keep my heart rate level. They won't see this coming and I have one chance. If I fail, I will die. \n\nI’m not sure how long I've been here. The room is completely empty. There are no windows, they use sensory deprivation to disorientate me. Blinding lights, tremendous noise followed by complete silence. Eventually I will break. Everybody breaks. \n\nA red light flashes on the wall followed by a ringing sound I have come to dread. I don’t answer. I sit calmly with my back against the wall. I appear calm, in control of myself. I act resigned at the ringing of the phone. I force my heart rate to rise a little, allow myself to sweat. Acting the part.\n\nI think back to the first time it rang, and all the times after that. Once every day. The same voice. At first I begged for my life, told the voice they had the wrong person, the voice stayed silent. They asked me a question. I didn't answer it. \n\nI heard an automatic vent open and gas was pumped into the room. Everything went black. I woke up on the floor of the room in tremendous pain. A bandage had been professionally applied to my left wrist. My left hand was gone. I vomited and terror consumed me.\n\nThe next time the phone rang I told the voice everything I could before they even said as word. I spat out information rapidly, anything I thought could save my life. I talked for several minutes nonstop, men would die from the words I spoke. Let them die, I've killed before. I won't die here.\n\nI gave up everything I had, except for one thing. The voice stayed silent. The voice knew I held back. I heard the gas. Later, when I awoke, my left ear had gone. I vomited again and knew I was running out of time. They will kill me the moment I talk, I have no value beyond my final secret.\n\nI told them anything to prevent death or further mutilation. Time passed. Days passed, I think. The phone would ring. I would answer it and the voice asked the same question. I would answer with a lie each time. Always plausible but never the truth. Just enough to buy a little more time but my time was running out.\n\nTo my relief there had been no more gas, yet. They have to follow up on each lie I tell and each one takes them time to investigate. I sensed the tension rising in the voice each time. I have only one or two chances left. I make my move *today*.\n\nThey made a mistake using the gas vent to incapacitate me. I now know for sure I’m being held in a sophisticated safe house equipped with interrogation technology. There were protocols to such techniques and I knew them all. I have done this many times, always to others, the irony was not lost on me.\n\nThe encrypted video stream from the room will be monitored at the highest levels, along with my biometric data which will be under real-time analysis by a medical team. The gas vent will be operated remotely by a medically trained professional who will refer to the gas as an incapacitating agent. The voice will be a killer for hire, specialising in psychological interrogation. \n\nThey don't even have to be in the safe house to make me talk. But I knew there would be someone, possibly even the voice himself. The voice was electronically masked so it could be anyone, maybe even someone I knew. Protocol dictates that there must be at least one agent on site in the event something happens and intervention is required.\n\nI will force them to intervene in the next sixty seconds, and thirty seconds after that someone will die in this room. They have mutilated me, but I haven't broken yet. I visualised the next few minutes in my mind. The phone continued to ring. I stood up, looked at the stub where my left hand used to be and picked up the phone using my remaining hand, putting it to my remaining ear.\n\n“You are out of time,” said the voice slowly, “answer the question now or I will enter the room and the next time you wake up you will prefer death.”\n\nThe voice was the agent on site, he was sloppy by confirming he would be the one to enter the room. If this was to be my final day in this world that sadistic bastard would also draw his last breath. I held the phone to my remaining ear, faked a sigh of resignation and closed my eyes.\n\n“Go fuck yourself” I replied. I wrapped the cord of the telephone around my neck twice and flung myself to the floor quickly. The cord had me in a makeshift noose and I knew the voice would have no choice but to intervene. They could not let me die until they had the information.\n\nI would survive strangulation for several minutes before brain death occurs but I’d be unconscious in less than 10. I was prepared for that. Two seconds passed and the voice would be panicking. Four seconds now and the voice would have confirmed my biometric data was authentic and I really was strangling myself. \n\nSix seconds and the order should be given to intervene and prevent strangulation. The voice would quickly move toward the entrance of my safe room, most likely situated in the adjacent room for reduced intervention time. I used the precious seconds it would take the voice to transition so I could unwind the cord from my neck and yank the handset from the wall with my hand. \nIn three seconds the voice came through the door at speed. I saw a moment of confusion in the eyes as they locked onto mine. I’d morphed from suicidal prisoner to the man I despised, a professional killer. \n\nMy neck was deeply lacerated and I gulped in air, my vision was slightly blurred but I’d been prepared to recover quickly and it saved my life. The voice burst through the door holding a Taser gun. The voice was female. She could fire from fifteen feet and penetrate two inches of clothing. \n\nShe never got the chance to fire. I cracked the handset into her left eye socket to cause maximum disorientation. I heard a disgusting pop as her right eye disappeared and I followed with a powerful stamp that dislocated her right kneecap. She went down quickly and was suffocating a second later after I stamped on her neck and crushed the trachea.\n\nThe voice lay motionless. I stepped over the bitch and exited the safe room quickly to engage any additional threats. The safe room immediately led into the surveillance suite and a pistol was placed on the desk next to a keyboard. I picked it up, removed the magazine saw it was full.\n\nI moved up the stairs carefully with the pistol held awkwardly in my right hand, muscle memory tempting me to brace the weapon with my missing left hand. I felt a rage inside, it burned with a fire that only blood could extinguish. \n\nI reached the exit and *vanished*. \n",
"I wake up hours late, all groggy, the sun filtering in through the blinds, feeling for an empty space next to me on the bed. My head feels like it's stuffed with cotton, and if I smack my lips I can taste it. Hell, beats waking up before the dawn and lying awake seeing the empty hours stretch out in front of ya. I shake my dick over the spotty urinal and try to squeeze out a piss, and then I stumble downstairs and check the clock, and yeah, it's past nine. I'm slumped over the table trying to force myself to stand up and start the coffeemaker, when I hear the key in the lock and the front door swings open. It's Mr. Black, right on time. \n\nMr. Black - that's not his real name - he's a real professional. I'd recommend him a hundred percent, if anyone ever came to me asking recommendations for hitmen. And I'm staring down at the tabletop and I realize I wasn't even looking forward to him coming. That's how bad it's gotten. Can't even look forward to getting killed. \n\n\"I found your papers,\" he says, strolling up in his black suit, business casual, lose the tie. He tosses today's newspaper onto the counter. \"They were under your azaleas. Threw the rest out, they were getting moldy.\" \n\n\"Fuckin' paperboy,\" I mutter. \n\n\"They still hire paperboys?\" He picks up the paper again and turns it over and rubs the newsprint off his fingers. \"Heck, people still read newspapers?\" \n\n\"Yeah, yeah,\" I say. Jesus. My head feels like dead weight, lolling forward halfway off my shoulders. \n\n\"Marty,\" he says. \"You're not dressed.\" \n\n\"Guess not,\" I say, and yeah, I'm sitting there in my underwear in front of a real professional, all my wrinkles, all my grey body hairs showing. It's not even clean underwear either. It's gone grey and's ratty with holes. Wear clean underwear, my ma used to say, in case you get into an accident. Wouldn't want some coroner turning his nose up at your corpse. \n\nMr. Black *hmms*, unflustered, and circles up behind me to press that cool snub steel against the back of my head. \"Marty,\" he says. \"What's your life worth today?\" \n\n\"It ain't worth anything,\" I tell him, and close my eyes. I imagine my brains blown out across the table like pork 'n' beans. \"It ain't worth a damn thing.\" \n\nThere's a long minute where we're both just floating in place, that gun at the back of my head steadying me, and then it lifts away and I'm lost again. Figures. Fuckin' figures. Why would it be that easy? \n\n\"You haven't had breakfast yet, either?\" Mr. Black says, and I mumble out a no and hear him rattling around in the kitchen. \"You want I should fry up some eggs?\" \n\n\"I get one egg a week,\" I tell him. \"Usually soft-boiled. Gotta watch my cholesterol.\" \n\n\"Hell, you're gonna die and you're still worried about cholesterol?\"\n\nKid's got a point. \n\nI listen to eggs sizzling on the pan, hear him switch on the coffeemaker and soon the house fills up with the warm scent of coffee brewing. I think: death warmed over. I think: at least that's better than just being dead. \n\n\"Here we go,\" Mr. Black says, and sets down a plate and a mug in front of me. The yolks are a bright runny orange, the eggs crisped around the edges, and the coffee's dead black. He pulls up a chair and sits across from me, holding his own cup of coffee, and leans back to watch me eat. \n\nHe won't stop looking at me so I pick up my fork and take a bite, and then I take another. They're way too salty - who the hell puts all that salt on eggs - but it's like all the blood vessels in the bridge of my nose bursting from the hypertension, like it's so good it almost hurts. I run the tines through the yolk and suck them clean, and Mr. Black watches bemusedly. Figures, since I'd missed breakfast by hours, but I hadn't realized how hungry I was. \n\nI finally set the fork down and pick up the coffee and cup it in both hands, feeling it scald through the ceramic, slowly burning up my hands. I take it in short, bitter sips, burning my tongue, and at this point I'm barely even registering it as coffee. I just need something hot, something black. Take it sip by sip, a little at the time. Let it go down. \n\n\"Feeling better?\" Mr. Black says finally, as I'm staring down at the dregs, the grounds floating in the cup like ash. My stomach's full, my body's warm, and I burp up the beginnings of indigestion. I almost feel human.\n\n\"Yeah,\" I say, and rub at the corner of my eyes. \"I - I'm better. I'm a little bit better.\" \n\n\"That's good,\" Mr. Black says, and stands up and walks around to me to put his hand on my shoulder. \"That's good, Marty. I need you lively. I need you rational.\" He leans on me and shakes my my shoulder. \"When I start negotiations, I need you to negotiate back.\" \n\nThen he brings the butt of his gun into my nose. \n\nThere's the muffled crack of cartilage breaking, blood filling my sinuses and backing up into my throat, and I'm falling backwards but his hands are on my shoulders and he steadies my fall until he drops me an inch from the ground. I'm gagging, seeing blood, and he pries his gun into my mouth. It tastes like blood and oil and the metal chips against my teeth. My whole jaw's shaking. \n\n\"You wanted to die?\" Mr. Black is screaming, and his face is going red. \"You want to die, Marty, you fucking piece of shit!\" He shoves the barrel down to my tonsils, and I'm crying and I'm choking and the eggs are coming back up, just runny spit and bile bubbling up my throat and onto his nice clean gun and running down my chin. \"Tell me, Marty!\" he screams, and yanks the gun out of my mouth and jabs it against my forehead. \"What the fuck is your life worth?\" \n\n\"Please!\" I get out, coughing up spit, the nerves still singing in my teeth. \"I can't! I can't!\" I'm scrabbling on the floor, crawling up and grabbing his pants legs as he follows my forehead with his gun. \"Please,\" I say, and I'm bawling, the blood dribbling thick down my nose. \"I don't know. I can't, I can't, not today.\"\n\nMr. Black stands impassive, looking down on me, steadying his breathing. \"You don't want me to kill you?\" he says. \n\n\"No,\" I babble out. \"No, no, no. Please.\" I smear blood and spit and vomit across my forearm. At this moment I can't even think of what money is. \"I don't want to die.\" \n\n\"All right,\" he says at last, and takes out a handkerchief and wipes off his gun and holsters it. I'm just lying there sprawled out by his feet on the floor. \"We'll take a rain check for today,\" he says, and bends over and picks me up, even as I'm cringing away from him. He gets my blood and vomit on his black suit, so black, won't show stains, as he just lifts me unconcerned and sets me back on the chair. I'm sitting there sobbing. \n\n\"Tomorrow,\" he says, leaning over and tapping me in the middle of the head with two fingers. \"I'll come back tomorrow, and we'll begin negotiations again, got it?\"\n\n\"Yeah, uh-huh,\" I say, and I'm suddenly exhausted even though I've done nothing but cry and bleed. I'm just slumping back in the chair, that mess drying on my face and chest. \n\n\"Good,\" he says. \"It's good to have a routine.\" \n\nHe gets a wad of tissue paper and makes me press it against my nose, and leaves me propped up in that chair as he clears away the plate and cups. I hear the water running as he's leaving everything to soak, as I sit there running my tongue over a jagged tooth. There's blood all over the floor, but he doesn't bother to clean that away. He just comes out wiping his hands on a dishrag and tosses it behind him, and stops by me and runs his hand over my hair. He bends over me and I'm too weary to even flinch, and he presses a kiss to the top of my head. \"See you tomorrow, pops.\" \n\nAnd then he's gone again, locking the door behind him. ",
"\"For pete's sake, man. You might as well just fucking kill me at this point. All over for me. No point in paying you off with your stupid money so you keep your stupid fucking gun turned away at me and pointed at some other idiot-\"\n\n\"Hey, calm down there. Stress isn't good for the blood pressure, you know? Deep breaths. I'm may or may not be tracing this call. But, that don't matter no bit.\"\n\n\"Grrrgh!\" Pinkers screamed as his foot collides against the shattered picture frame at his feet. The colored photo of a tall, dark-haired man with his arm wrapped around a woman's shoulder was barely visible. In between the two photographed spouses was a young girl. The image itself was obscured among the mess of shattered shot glasses and flower vases.\n\nThe man in the kitchen heard his cell phone ding as Petrosky hung up. He quickly swiped to check his texts to his now ex-wife, Rose. Not a single goddamned reply. His blood boiled. He stomped out of the door to his backyard.\n\nDeep breaths, like Petrosky said. Just look at the garden. Look at the petunias, big purple and blooming. Look at the daisies, small and delicate thing. Look at the roses.\n\nThe roses.\n\nPinkers groaned and walked over to the bed of roses in the lush, colorful garden. He buried his face, hot and red from his outrage, right into the soil.\n\n\"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!\"\n\nSomewhere, about one house away, Pinkers's disgruntled neighbor arises from his slumber to the sound of a tall, hot-tempered man's scream. From the second story of the lovely abode, that neighbor could look down to see Pinkers raging away as he smashed his face on fertilized soil and tarnished flowers.\n\nThe neighbor cleared his throat by walking downstairs and coming back up with hot coffee. He peeked his head out of the window, yelling over at Pinkers to clam his mouth while people were still sleeping. Pinkers, in return, told him to shut the fuck up and stop yelling while other people were sleeping. \n\nThis continued until the neighbor let out a long breath and died of an unexpected knife wound that came from what was probably just some lucky turn of events that bore no relation to the man walking into Pinkers's home. The one carrying the large pile of rope, a holstered gun, and a bloody knife.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"You know what your problem is, Pinko?\" Petrosky wiped the blood off his shoes with the tablecloth in Pinkers's kitchen. Pinkers only raised an eyebrow, for he had been gagged and bound to a chair.\n\n\"Your problem is simple. You're not thinking about this logically. You're being irrational.\"\n\nPetrosky pointed the knife in his hand at Pinkers's chest. He poked at it delicately. Gingerly, even. Just enough to slice the sweater-vest that sat on his chest. Pinkers's shallow nasal breaths hastened.\n\nThe hitman walked over to the fridge and took a looksie at the groceries. Not much was in there. Half-gallon of milk. Some eggs. Bread. Who the hell refrigerates bread? A few bananas. Yogurt. Butter.\n\n\"Think with your head, Pinko. Not with your heart. Mind you, you still haven't told me what your problem was. Just tried to take my gun away from me to shoot yourself.\"\n\nPinkers shrugged. His eyes were blood-red. The cheeks were dried with a mix of water and salt. His hair, dyed a dark shade, was messy with clods of blackening soil from the outside garden. He tried to gnaw through his gag.\n\nPetrosky laughed at the sight and shut the fridge. He moved his attention over to the freezer. There was ice cream and nothing else of real importance. Sliced ham. Chicken. TV dinners. Truly, the ice cream was the most important thing. In seconds, the top was popped off the small cup and a spoon was obtained from a cabinet.\n\nFinally, under the hitman's constant supervision, Pinkers broke free from his gag and began to speak, \"You didn't have to do that, you know?\"\n\n\"Calmed you down long enough to stop screaming bloody murder to every other idiot in suburbia.\"\n\n\"I didn't ask you to come over. I would've paid you when I came back to my senses.\"\n\nPetrosky shrugged, \"Most likely. On the other hand, we've worked together for so long that I'm keen to know more about your problems. Offer professional advice, in a way.\"\n\nPinkers glared at the weathered man. He was short, but his face was thin and gaunt. Exaggerated sunglasses that sat on his eyes seemed out of place in the month of November. The only advice he could get from a man like this would be how to get away with murder.\n\n\"Allow me to play the part of a bumbling, egocentric, British detective.\" Petrosky got up and began to pace around the room. Pinkers just snorted.\n\n\"At about five in the morning today, I called you to inquire about where last month's wired money was. I was greeted...\" Petrosky pointed to Pinkers, \"... with the sound of a man yelling at me to 'fucking kill him.' That don't make much sense to me.\"\n\nHis boots paced over to the shattered frame that sat by Pinkers's foot, \"Until, I saw this. Now, there's many things that make men angry. Debt. Inability. Pride, there's a good one. Self-doubt. Impotency. Hate. And, in your case, loss.\"\n\nPetrosky scanned Pinko's face. There was definitely some feeling of loss in their mixed with layers of anger and resentment. A bit of hate, but in a strange sense, the man deduced.\n\n\"Now, there's a lot of things that a man will do when he suffers loss. He goes through the stages of grief, for one. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. But, that's just one option.\"\n\nThe pacing man put a spoon to his coffee-flavored ice cream and put in his mouth, savoring the strong yet sweet flavor of cream and coffee-flavoring. He offered Pinkers a bite. Pinkers stuck his tongue out in disgust. The pacing man asked him if he would eat the ice cream had it been flavored like chocolate. Or if it had been flavored like olives. If he would eat it over here? Or if he would eat it over there?\n\nPinkers replied. He would not eat it if it had been flavored like chocolate. He would not eat it if it had been flavored like olives. He would not eat it here. He would not eat it there. He does not like ice cream-\n\n\"Oh, no! We're not playing this stupid Dr. Seuss bullcrap.\" \n\n\"Just lightening the mood with some good humor. You have a sense of humor, Mr. Pinkers? Or did your wife just leave you for some other reason?\"\n\nPinkers lunged up. He fell back down to the ground with a smash of the chair. He had forgotten about his restraints. Most people in a fit of rage tend to do that.\n\n\"You know, Pinkers. I like you. So, I'll tell you what I think about this. Frankly, I think you're a bitch.\"\n\n\"Mhmm. That's deep.\"\n\n\"Now, it's times like this that really do try the soul of man. I don't particularly care about why your marriage fell apart. But, I do know the value of the word 'want.' That's a strong word.\"\n\n\"Want?\" Pinkers inquired.\n\n\"Men say they want a lot of things, Mr. Pinkers. But, that doesn't really mean they want it. Wanting comes from the heart. Getting what you want comes from the brain. So, just consider this for a moment, Pinko.\"\n\nPinkers leaned closer, \"Yes?\"\n\n\"How much are you going to pay me to help you find out how you'll get what you want?'\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nPinkers tugged at his tight tie. It was the afternoon and Petrosky had long left the home and gone off on some other contract. The two had come to terms with the business between each other and had left their separate ways forever. In that time, he had taken a drive all the way to Rose's motel room on the other side of town. She'd be moving into an apartment with her new pal in a week.\n\nHis girl wouldn't be home with her mother until three. Plenty of time to talk the matter of a divorce over without the awkward tension a child brings. \n\nThe tall, dark-haired man took a deep breath at the door. In and out. Stay calm. Don't freak out. Don't let your anger get to you. That's why she left anyway.\n\n**Knock. Knock. Knock.**\n\nRose opened the door with a smiling face. That smile drooped to a shocked frown of displeasure once she realized that her visitor was none other than Pinkers.\n\n\"Pinky? What the heck are you doing here?\"\n\n\"I came to talk. Invite me in.\"\n\n\"This isn't really the time.\"\n\n\"That wasn't a question.\"\n\nA neighbor pulled up to the motel just then. He heard some shouting. Though, just one person's shouting. Then came some screaming. Though, just one person's screaming. And then a gunshot let out a loud bang. Though, just one gunshot.\n\nThe neighbor didn't hear anything after. It's not that there had been only one gunshot. Rather, the neighbor had sped away after the first.\n\nPinkers sat in Rose's motel room. His boots were bloodied and his own puke sat at his teeth. Petrosky had told him to do as he will with the gun, since it was unmarked and hand-crafted anyway. Deep breaths came in and deep breaths came out.\n\nPinkers groaned to himself all the while. He came to chilling realization. The garbage bin outside wasn't big enough.\n\n\n-----",
"Ring. Ring. Ring.\n\n\nCraig leaves the phone ringing in the background as he sits in his wheel chair. He looks out the window and watches the rain fall to the streets. Funny, he thought, how he used to stare out this window and hope that he was in a movie, with a full audience watching his every move. Feel every bit of his anguish just by looking at his contemplative state. Now, he could care less. It doesn't matter anymore to him. After the car accident that took away both of his legs, Craig hasn't felt the same. \n\n\nHe used to love playing sports. Basketball, volleyball, soccer. He also loved the feeling of being able to take a stroll down the street. Didn't matter where he went. But the option of being able to do so felt so insignificant before. Things he usually took for granted suddenly seemed so far out of reach, and Craig found himself not wanting to do anything anymore. Craig found himself not wanting to ever wake up.\n\n\nRing. Ring. Ring.\n\n\nCraig rolls his wheelchair over to the phone and picks it up. \n\n\n\"Hello?\" Craig said.\n\n\"Hello Mr. Williams. I hope you've been having a…nice day. It's not often that I call you. Don't make that mistake again. I spared you once yesterday when you forgot to call. Now you're making me call and that's bad for business. What do you have to offer me that'll keep me from blowing your brains out?\"\n\n\"Oh. I'm sorry Andy. I was actually expecting you to have visited by now. I don't have anything to offer you.\"\n\n\"…..Excuse me?\"\n\n\"I guess I should rephrase, I don't want to offer you anything.\"\n\n\"W-what? You better watch what you say Mr. Williams. Things could get messy very quickly.\"\n\n\nCraig sighed and rolled his wheelchair back to the window and looked out the window.\n\n\n\"I expect it will. I don't have anything to offer you, I don't want to offer you anything. Complete your assignment and be done with me.\" Craig said.\n\n\"What's the matter with you? No one wants to die. I'll give you a chance to take back what you said. Don't be stupid now. We've got a good thing going here.\"\n\n\"Andy, we've been going back and forth for…3 months now. I've always wanted to live. I just don't want to \nanymore. I'm sure you've kept tabs on me since my accident. It's been a week, and I've made up my mind. Please end this.\"\n\n\nCraig could hear a slight shuffling sound, then a door slamming in the background.\n\n\n\"Where are you going Andy?\"\n\n\"I'm coming over,\" Andy said, and with that, he hung up his phone.\n\n\nAn hour or so later, Craig rolled over to his dining table when his front door got kicked open. He slowly rolled his head to the side and peered over the kitchen counter to see what caused the commotion. He could see an old, mean looking fellow stand at the door, wearing a black turtleneck and jeans. He had barely a whisper of a beard on him and had hard eyes. He walked in, surveyed the room, and his eyes fell on Craig.\n\n\n\"Alright, what the hell is going on Craig? No one wants to die. Not even you. I know I've had a contract for your head for a while, but damnit I feel a connection here and I don't think you're thinking straight.\" Andy shouted.\n\n\"I can't walk Andy. Do you understand? I can't even kick a door open like you did. Do you know how impotent I feel? How weak and vulnerable I am? No. I'm thinking completely straight. If you're not going to do it, I have my own ways.\"\n\n\nAndy looked at Craig's lap and found a Glock sitting there. \n\n\n\"Craig, buddy, you don't want to do that. Talk this through. Do you know how many people out there are in wheel chairs and doing amazing things in the world? You just need some time.\"\n\n\"NO ANDY. I'M DONE. TELL ME WHETHER YOU'RE GOING TO DO IT OR NOT. I DON'T WANT YOU TO WATCH THIS.\" \n\n\nCraig reached for the gun in his lap and held it up to his temple.\n\n\n\"Craig, I can't do this. You won't do it. Please stop! We can fi-\" \n\n\nA shot rang out across the entire floor of Craig's apartment. Andy stood there, staring at the gaping hole in Craig's head, and walked out of the apartment. He looked in his contact book and dialed in some numbers. The phone began to ring and someone picked up.\n\n\n\"Hello Operator\", Andy said, \"I'm looking for a man, mid twenty's, driving a red 2006 Toyota Corolla who was involved in a traffic collision a week ago with a Craig Williams.\" \n\n\nAndy hung up his phone. He now had a new target, and this one wasn't going to have any room for negotiations."
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[WP] One day you fall into a alternate dimension where everything is exactly the opposite of our world.
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"He said that everything was the opposite, so my curiosity got the best of me and I jumped in. Unfortunately, I didn't think through the meaning of \"everything was opposite.\" The high carbon-dioxide content in their air didn't get the chance to kill me, and neither did the 94 degree Celsius summer. It was the outer shell of liquid hot magma that did me in.",
"\"Everything is exactly opposite...\". \n\nI haven't even finished reading the poster at their front door when I barged in. I mean, having a life that's completely opposite from my current world is WONDERFUL! That would mean having a cute, Asian girlfriend with twintails, a load of money in my bank account, a nice mansion, a fancy car, and food at my table everyday! \n\nI didn't have second thoughts as I filled up and signed the necessary papers for my \"trip to another dimension\". I was so tired of my life here as a poor guy. Living in the cheapest, rundown apartment in town, having only 2 meals a day, and walking 5 miles everyday just to get to work with an empty stomach doesn't look like a very fun life, right? I would do anything and everything just to get out of this miserable life of mine and this \"Take a Trip to Another Dimension Where Everything is Exactly Opposite From Our Own World! FOR FREE!\" thing is my ticket to heaven. \n\nI quickly finished signing the papers and quietly bid goodbye to this world that has been so cruel to me. I stepped into the capsule that would take me across the dimensional wall and took my seat as the craft whirred to life and started to ferry me to the other dimension. As I was fantasizing about things that I woulddo once I was in my new world, a light at the edge of the capsule's hatch glowed green and a sign saying \"Safe to Exit\" lit up. I sure was excited as hell. I opened the hatch, stepped outside and then immediately regretted not listening to Physics lectures when I was still at school.\n\nEverything was opposite. Literally everything. \n\nYou know what we're made up of, right? We're made up of matter. Now, since everything here is opposite, everything here is made up of the stuff that is opposite to our own. Now, what is opposite to matter? Antimatter. What happens when \"normal\" matter comes into contact with antimatter? They annihilate each other. What happens when they annihilate each other? They release energy equivalent to their total combined mass, aka E=mc^2 . This basically means that all 75 kilos of human and stuff were almost instantaneously annihilated by a similar mass of antimatter and exploded with force roughly equal to about **3.2 gigatons of TNT**.\nHeh, I accidentally annihilated half of \"Other Earth\". Not Cool."
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[WP] You have were-powers, but you never know what animal you will transform into at each full moon
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"A loud groan escaped me as I reached for the water at my bedside. As I dumped the water over my face and into my mouth, the searing pain in my throat began to subside. 'What the hell did I eat last night?' raced through my mind as I dragged myself up from the stained mattress on the floor of the dingy one room apartment. I stumbled to the bucket in the corner; it felt like I hadn't pissed in ages. After a minute, I began to look around my room to take stock of the situation. \n\n'Good' I murmur to myself, none of the furniture is destroyed. The table was tipped over on it's side and there was a weird stain in the corner, but for the most part the room looks the same as before the sun set and the moon rose last night. I walk to the corner and disconnect the cables running into my lock box. I glance at the webcam mounted in the corner... 'it had better have worked this time' I grumble.\n\nOpening the lockbox I bring the laptop over to my mattress. I slump down and place the laptop on the floor and hesitantly open the cover with trembling fingers. 'Maybe I'll finally get some answers about what's happening to me' I mumble slowly, the words dripping like molasses from my cracked lips.\n\n-\n\nIts been five months since that weird looking camel bit my arm as I was standing outside the bus station in Cincinnati. One would think the first thing a normal person would ask himself is 'what the fuck is a camel doing on the loose in Cincinnati and why the hell did it bite me?'. But this was different. I was different. I didn't know how, but I was. As I stared dumbly at the blood trickling down my arm and the camel galloping away down the sidewalk, all I could think about was grass, sweet grass. Oh, and leaves, especially those little juicy ones on the thorn bushes, those desert bushes with the waxy leaves, holding the moisture like precious pockets heavenly ambrosia. I absent-mindedly recall some long grass along the fence posts in the park during my walk to watch the game on the big screen at the pub.\n\nThat first morning I awoke in my own bed, in my parents basement. I had pissed myself. 'Christ, what I night, what the fuck happened?' I remember thinking. I drag myself up and begin to gather up the wet sheets and blankets from my piss stained bed. I walked over to the washing machine and put them in the laundry tub. I ran water over them and made a mental note to tell mom I spilled apple juice on them.\n\nI slumped into my recliner and began to retrace my steps. How did I get so messed up? I drank a glass of wine with my mom at dinner and smoked a joint on the walk down to the pub. God, I love that walk, all the grass, plants, bushes, so tasty, so sweet... 'Jeebus, what is wrong with me?' I say idly to no one in particular. Anyway, walked to the pub, drank some pints, smoked a dart on the patio, got bit by a camel, ate gra..... no, that can't be right... I glance at my arm, there was no wound, just weird looking scar. Huh, that's odd I think, where the heck did that come from? \n\nThe scar was on my upper arm, and it seemed to shimmer oddly as I twisted my arm to get a better look. The shape seemed, liquid, almost. One second it seemed like to look like odd misshapen teeth marks and the next it was a perfect circle with weird symbols, then it was something else I can't even describe. As I was staring at my arm, I began to notice some weird stuff in my room. It wasn't there last night, mom had just cleaned up down here. To start, there was a lot of grass (not the good stuff) piled beside my boots. On my night table, some weird waxy leaves were neatly arraigned in a row.\n\nJust then, my mom yells down the basement stairs \"Jeff, I made oatmeal, you coming up to get some before you leave?\". \"Ya, thanks mom, be there in a second\". Shit, I better get moving as I made note of the time on the clock. I'm gonna be late for my shift. The rest of the day was pretty normal and by the time I got home, there was no mark on my arm and my room had been cleaned up, there was no grass or leaves anywhere in the room I noted with mild irritation. Did I imagine all that this morning? The sheets had been changed on the bed. Good old mom. I decided maybe I should be more careful mixing booze and weed in the future, it made for a weird combo.\n\nIt was a month later that my life was turned upside down. Sorry, not turned upside down. Destroyed is the correct word. That morning, I was awoken by a swat team screaming in my face and assault rifles pointing at me. Turns out, a neighbor had noticed a broken window on the side of the house and came over to investigate. It was he who called 911 when he noticed the blood smear on the broken glass. The responding officers had found my mother's body, or at least what was left of it. My mother, my dear sweet mother, had been dismembered and eaten, seemingly by a monster. The responding officers exited the house and called in swat when they heard the toilet flush in the basement. I had woken up, taken a piss and dropped back into an endless dream, blissfully unaware of the carnage above me.\n\nIt had taken about 2 weeks for the investigators to clear me of any wrongdoing. During that time I lost my job, my girlfriend, my home (screw you Chase), everything. I even thought I was losing my sanity too. It wasn't until the second month, after I got thrown out of the rooming house for, as they put it, releasing a monkey in my room which then proceeded to destroy everything and smear feces on the walls and ceiling. I just didn't understand, at least not till the third month. \n\nIt was more of an accident and dumb luck that allowed my feeble brain to make the leap to what might be happening to me. It was after my third turning (as I've taken to calling it), when I began to suspect that I was the source of these incidents. It was unbelievable, but the evidence was mounting, it was me, or not me, depending on your perspective. And I figured all this out cause I turned into a stupid house cat, knocked my phone off the table and somehow snapped a selfie of myself as a cat. As soon as I saw the picture on my phone, I knew it was me, I don't know how but it was like looking at myself in a mirror. I just knew. The worst part of all, was when it struck me, that if I was turning into animals and not in control, then oh my God, my mom, it was me after all and not a grizzly bear as the investigators concluded. Soon after that I figured maybe it all came back to that weird camel that bit me. The pieces of the puzzle snapped into place one night as I lay awake wondering what was happening. I was a were-wolf, were-cat, were-what-the-fuck am I talking about this is fucking crazy. It was a couple of more days before my brain begrudgingly accepted my theory.\n\n-\n\nI snapped back to reality as the video began to play. I watched myself lying on the mattress on the floor in the grainy black and white video. The webcam was crap but it was all I could put my hands on in my current situation. I watched the video, mesmerized, unconsciously holding my breath, waiting to see what will happen. After a few minutes of watching my self laying in the bed, I started to fast forward. It was at about 2:30 in the morning, based on the timestamp of the video. I watched, terrified, as the figure on the screen arched its back as if in agony. That can't be me, I think to myself. It looked a Hollywood horror flick, with the best CGI effects I had ever seen. But I knew, this was real. This was me. \n\nAs I watched the figure on the screen, grossly contorted in an unnatural tangle of limbs and bed sheets, it began to change. The body shrunk and the limbs elongated. God, it looked painful. As I glanced down at my arms and legs to make sure I was still me, whatever that is, a human I guess. As I looked back at the screen, my horror turned to shock to bemusement. A three toed sloth slowly started to sit up in the bed and tentatively scan the room. I looked for signs of my self in the animal, but it acted like how you would think a sloth would act after waking up in a strange environment. It slowly shuffled around the room, slowing circling the room about five times, touching and exploring everything, it looked like it was trying to escape as it wedged it claws under the door several times and unsuccessfully tried to claw its way out.\n\nI was glad that I had taken the precautions to secure the room and the webcam to the wall. After the last month, when my room had been destroyed by a large aggressive animal, I had learned to take precautions. The last time the furniture had been shredded and my laptop destroyed by what I can only assume were large teeth suitable for crushing bones.\n\nThis time I was rewarded with watching myself turn into a sloth. A curious sloth either hungry or curious enough to try to pull itself up on everything.\n\n-\n\nEnd of part one, I'll try to wrap up the story in the morning.\n\nPlease comment and provide critical comments. I've never written before and just joined Reddit today so I could try it. "
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[WP] 28th February, 2020. The third time in history that a tactical nuclear weapon had been deployed with intent to injure and harm.
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"Across the world people watched the livestreams with horror. The blast was always captured from afar, and the feed was always silent, save for the bystander commentary.\n\nSome wept from the ugliness of the act. Some wept from the beauty of the terrible cloud. All knew deep down that it had to be done.\n\nAll knew they had to stop this war before it began.\n\nThe planet simply couldn't handle another Trump presidency."
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[WP] Write a story about Absolute Madman, the infamous, highly ineffective supervillain
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"\"Sir? We have a situation at Eighth and Main. It's Dean again.\"\n\nOfficer Smith sighed. The infamous \"supervillain\" Absolute Madman (real name Dean McKee) was well known to the police force for his silly antics. Apparently he was holding up a bank this time, and it was up to Smith and his crew to stop him. Like they always did. He sighed again. Absolute Madman was as sneaky as he was inept, and he always slipped away from under Smith's nose, only to turn up again a few weeks later to pull another ridiculous stunt. But Smith felt good about this time. Today would be the day that they caught him for good, so that he could stop wasting everyone's time. \n\n\"Alright Richards, move in. We got him this time.\"\n\n\"Roger that, boss.\"\n\nSmith rubbed his fingers against his temples. This was surprisingly criminal for him. Stuff like vandalism and public disruption were right up his alley, but robbing a bank? What could he be planning?\n\nInside the bank, Absolute Madman was giggling like a maniac. He held his \"weapon of evil destruction,\" the PancakeBlaster3000, at the face of the clerk, who was trying to keep a steady neutral expression. \n\n\"Yeah that's right. Money in the bag. Else the PancakeBlaster3000 will make you yesterday's breakfast.\"\n\nThe clerk attempted to remain calm as she loaded the wads of bills into the burlap sack. A bead of sweat dripped down her cheek. \n\n\"I want at least two hundred grand before I hop. So make it snappy.\"\n\nThe clerk continued loading money wordlessly. \n\n\"Get it?\"\n\nShe continued loading money. \n\n\"It's a pancake joke. Before I hop. Like the pancake joint.\"\n\nThe clerk looked up at the deranged man wielding what looked to be a potato gun. Panic played across her face. \"Uh.... what?\"\n\n\"IHOP!\" He snapped. \"IT WAS A JOKE!\"\n\nShe stared blankly at him for a few seconds before forcing herself to laugh. \n\n\"It was pretty funny, wasn't it?\" He turned to look at the civilians sitting against the walls of the bank, and they started to laugh too. But the laughter was short lived. \n\n\"Attention. This is the Newton City Police Department. We have you surrounded. Please drop your weapon and lie on the floor with your hands in the air.\"\n\nBack at dispatch, Smith leaned back as the helicopter confirmed visual contact with the Madman. He smiled. There was no way he was escaping this time. He could try every trick in the book, but Smith had mobilized half of the police force. There was no way he could slip out of their grasp, but Smith had little doubt that Absolute Madman would certainly try. The Madman had been a thorn in their side for years, and Smith knew that he wouldn't willingly submit to custody. But this time, he was ready. \n\nBack at the bank, the Absolute Madman backed slowly into the centre of the room. \"Oh, phooey\" he muttered. \"And I was so close to getting that quaint little house I wanted.\" He hung his head dejectedly and tossed his weapon to the side, and to the amazement of the police force, lay himself on the linoleum floor and stuck his arms straight up. \n\nSmith's radio buzzed with the voice of the officer in the helicopter. What absurd trick did the Madman pull now?\n\n\"Uh, sir.... We told Dean to lay down on the floor.... And he actually did it.\"\n\nSmith's jaw went slack as the radio fell out of his hand and clattered on the floor. \n\n\"The absolute madman.\""
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[WP] Your lover has lost all memory of you. Can you make him or her fall in love with you again?
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"Three days, six hours, and twenty eight minutes. That’s how long it’s been since I woke up to the smell of burning bacon. You never burnt bacon. Not in all of the years that you’ve loved me enough to wake up at 6:30, because I can’t sleep past 7am, to make me breakfast. To wake me up with the scent of cooking meat. Not in all of our adult life have you ever burnt the bacon. Sure, there were times where you came close. But not since that one morning when we were both so young, when you got distracted by my hand sneaking up the back of your blouse, have you let the bacon burn. \n\n\nDo you remember how blackened it was? Nearly falling apart as we picked it up and ate it anyway. The once meat turning to ash in our mouths. It was so long ago but we loved each other differently back then. A sort of love that got distracted from breakfast meats to make love on your mother’s old sofa. The ribbed velvety fabric making marks against your pale skin. The sort of love that ignored the smell of greasy smoke to flirt and laugh. We loved each other then, but it was a different love. \n\n\nThree days, six hours, and thirty-two minutes, as a few minutes have passed since I wrote that first paragraph. That’s how long it’s been since I walked down the stairs to see that greasy grey smoke desperately rushing out of the front door. You never left the door open. There are bugs, you’d always say. Bugs that would find our home more suitable than outside and you’d rather not let them think that they are invited in. That would be rude, you’d say. Remembering this, and not wanting to further disappoint any bugs who were already packing their bags in hopes of better lodging, I shut the door before removing the pan from the stove. As I went to place the hot pan onto a cool burner I noticed the note. That neon pink little square with your scribbling scrawl and its concerning message. \n\n\n“Bacon on at 6:47”\n\n\nIt’s okay if you couldn't remember. Even before my first grey hair I had to make notes to know when I put on the pasta. And even then, I’d overcook the noodles. Do you remember how many times I tried to make you dinner? Such extravagant meals I’d plan. Multi-course on a fine tablecloth with candles and the best wine my modest pay could afford. I don’t believe that even one of those meals turned out as planned. The bread I’d made was too dense, still a bit damp in the middle. Though now I can make a flawless loaf - that’s what you’d say to me. Alex, that is one flawless loaf. A big smile on your lips as you prodded at the crispy warm exterior. You’d ask, do we have to let it cool? Why can’t we just eat it now, you’d ask. But back then, my bread was not flawless. My noodles were overcooked and my sauce was too watery. The beans were still cold in the middle and there was a stain on the white table cloth from where I’d spilt the cheap red wine. \n\n\nBut you’d smile and eat and drink like we were dining at the finest restaurant in town. \n\nSeven hours after I saw the door open and the smoke seeking the fresh air. Seven hours after I took off the pan and called the police. Seven hours after they told me that you’d probably just gone on a walk and forgot to tell me. Seven hours of painful waiting and worrying, I got a call saying that you were in the hospital. \n\n\nIn that time, those seven heartbreaking hours, I’d found more notes. Notes reminding you to eat lunch placed atop some of that eggplant and artichoke salad that you try to make me eat. Notes reminding you to change the wash with the time of the started load written below. Notes reminding you that we were married on June 5th, 1961 and my birthday is on the 2nd of August. Notes telling you things you’ve always known.\n\n\nIt’s okay if you can’t remember. I was never good at dates. It took me three years to really remember your birthday. I’d write it down in my planner but lose the planner before the date actually came. You never did get angry with me, though. Instead, you hung up a calendar in our small condo and put a little smile in the box for the 12th of December. Not a note or anything flashy. Just a smile. And that year was the first year that I remembered your birthday. Even though I know it by heart now, after all of these years, you still put that smile on the calendar. Not this year, though. I noticed that after finding all of those little pink squares with the notes to remind you to do things you never used to forget to do. When I flipped to your birthday, the 12th of December, the square was blank. \n\n\nWhen I got to the hospital, you didn’t recognise me. It’s okay. I was worried and only wanted to hold you. But you wailed to the nurse and weakly pressed your hands against my shoulders. It reminded me of the time I stayed out too late with Steven from the office. We drank until closing time and I came home stinking of whiskey and you cried as I passed through the door. You told me that you thought I’d been hurt and I drunkenly laughed at you which only made you cry harder. I grabbed you tightly in my arms and you protested, pushing me away as your tears stained my shoulder. Just as they did in the hospital. The nurses told me that you had dementia, the form that is considered to be rapidly progressing, and they walked me into the hall. They asked me if I had noticed anything about your behaviour over the past few months that seemed odd. And I had. I never saw the notes but I saw the way you looked for your keys just after you’d placed them down. The way you’d pause as you were trying to compete a task. The way you’d sometimes look around as if your surroundings had spontaneously changed.\n\n\nI noticed but was too busy to do anything.\n\n\nThey told me that there was nothing I could have done, really. But I love you and I would have tried if I knew. \n\n\nIf you don’t remember me, it’s okay. Just know that you were loved. That you are loved. And I’ll visit you each and every day. No matter whether you remember me, and the bacon, and my dense bread. \n\n\nI’ll always love you,\n\nAlex\n\n\n-----------------------------\n\n\nShe stares blankly at the note and then looks to her nurse, eyes squinting as if she were recalling a memory. He watches her from the small window in the light brown wooden door with sweaty palms rubbing against his trousers. \n\n\n“Did you say lunch was coming?” She asks, placing down the letter to her bed tray. \n\n\n“It’s right here, on the table,” the nurse replies, pointing to the segmented tray of food and lifting it from the side table so the woman could see. \n\n\nWith a smile, she pulls the sandwich and pudding from the tray and places them on the note eyes full of life as she tugs off the clear plastic wrap and begins to eat.\n\n\n"
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[WP] Magic is viewed as a curse. It's unpredictable, hard to control, and dangerous. Those few who find a way to wield it risk losing themselves in the process.
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"Weirdly, I wrote this story about a year and a half ago and forgot about it until I saw this WP. It took me a while to find where I'd saved it and edit it a little. Parts 2 and 3 in the comments.\n\n\"No! Please!\" The once human held pleading hands out towards us, it's features perfectly mimicking desperation, fear, the barest hint of hope.\n\nIt didn't matter. It never did. The desperation, the fear? That was valid. The hope was pointless.\n\nI watched as Sergeant Fowle, the man who had welcomed me to the team that could have been months but was probably years before, back when it all started, stalked forwards, his expression grim as he slung his rifle and drew the knife that was always used for this job. That nine inches of ancient, scratched steel, stained with more blood than I care to imagine, was worth more than all of us: training, experience, immortal soul, whatever else you placed value on that makes up a human being, combined.\n\n\"I can expl - \"\n\nIt was quick. It always was, at least now. It took us longer when we first started.\n\nI tried to work up a feeling of sympathy as the light faded from its eyes with the not-really-real-life and definitely-real-infection, the blood that leaked out turning the forest floor to a muddy puddle beneath the corpse that had stopped being a person several months ago. Maybe I've been doing this job too long and it's warped me, or maybe I was broken before it even started, but the only thing I feel is tired. It's been a long hunt.\n\nThe whole thing started when I was seven. Someone once told me it was a science experiment gone wrong, an attempt to reach the next stage of evolution that backfired. Someone else said it was nature fighting back against the swarm of humanity, a desperate attempt to stop us destroying the world we call home. All I know is it cost us pretty much everything that defined society as we knew it.\n\nThe first instances were dismissed as terror attacks or natural disasters. There would be an explosion or a flood, perhaps an earthquake... whatever. It always ended up the same: corpses where there had once been a sister or brother, a friend, parent, vague acquaintance. Child. That was the worst. Those damn black body bags. A kick in the gut that just got worse as they got smaller.\n\nI can't remember who, but someone once said that there is no greater agony than a parent who has outlived their child. I always agreed in an abstract kind of way, offering sympathy but not really comprehending the pain. Right up until my daughter died.\n\nA broken childhood, three war zones and a marriage that I thought was perfect up until I walked in on my wife with another man - I figured I'm a pretty tough guy, familiar with pain and ready to bounce back from pretty much anything. Trying to weep the life back into my little girl though... that was a curse I wouldn't wish on anyone.\n\nWhere was I?\n\nOh yeah. The attacks. Turns out it wasn't terrorists, or the asymmetric threat we were trained to look for in the shape of suicide bombers or whatever other fad was going to tear the life from us this week. \n\nSome people tried to argue it was a talent, magic or some shit like that. Other people said it was a disease that warped the way they thought and interacted with the world around them. I just saw another way for people to kill each other, pretty much the same way they have been since we first crawled out of that god-forsaken swamp and learned to smash rocks together to make fire or sharpen a stick that would better poke holes in whoever was disagreeing with us this week. Whatever it was, it spread fast, the isolated events becoming less isolated, until there wasn't anyone who didn't know someone who had been killed or hurt in an attack or seen one themselves.\n\nKatie died in my arms. She dragged her mum towards me across the zebra crossing, the arsehole I had walked in on Beth with replaced with some new guy who I also didn't like but seemed to treat my little girl ok, so I tolerated him. I hadn't even noticed the cops trying to contain some guy who had been infected behind me - it was still early on enough that I dismissed it as a shoplifter being caught or something else that wasn't worth my attention. \n\nTurns out the infection had hit this guy and he was screaming that he was still human, needed treatment. I think the cops might even had agreed with him at this point if he hadn't been such a dick about the whole thing, but he was, so they tried to cuff him. \n\nFirst I knew about it, the patrol car was skidding sideways across the street - side swiped my charmer of an ex and her next mistake. Couldn't have happened to a nicer girl. Like I said, I'm kinda neutral about her new fella, but he died before I got a chance to really know him. Maybe he didn't deserve it. Regardless, I was distracted by the fact that my little girl had been clipped too. The force span her into the window of the shop next to me so hard it broke the glass.\n\nMost of that day is still pretty blurry to me but it's the little things that stick with you. The green sticker on Katie's dress that happily pronounced she had been to the dentists that morning and encouraged her friends to get their teeth checked too. The earrings that her mum had gotten her that I had argued against and Katie had been so proud of I had struggled to get angry over them when she showed me. Still struggle to remember what her voice sounded like on any other day though. \n\nSix years old and speaking at sixteen months and still the only thing I can hear her saying is \"It hurts daddy, what's happened?\"\n\nThose cold, lifeless eyes stare back at me every time I shut my own.\n\nI found the guy responsible about an unknown amount of time later. Unsurprisingly he got away from the cops, but killing them and nearly two dozen civilians tends to draw the bad kind of attention and I suppose it was inevitable that people in my trade would end up drafted in to deal with situations like this.\n\nI've been rambling, not making sense. Guess I should introduce myself. Simon Carwell. Ex-soldier, ex-husband, ex-father, hunter. Whatever you call these things, whatever you think of them, just know that whatever they are, they don't deserve your pity. They aren't even human anymore. That was the first lesson that Sergeant Tom Fowle taught me - might even be true. Certainly makes the job easier, even if it fucks me over now.\n\nAfter Katie, I was recruited direct from my unit. Some suit showed up, explained what was going on - talked about people with some supernatural ability that also drove them nuts, told me how they were recruiting a response force. Of course I jumped at the chance. Guess they knew I'd do that. Then again, who wouldn't? Give a soldier a chance to strike against the bastards who killed his family? Where do I sign?\n\nThey were damn near impossible to kill though, at least after the first few. Bullets worked to begin with, but then one of the damn things worked out how to stop them and passed the secret on before we could take it out. Don't get me wrong, a supersonic slug will still slow them down, knock 'em on their ass, as the Yanks are wont to say, but it doesn't kill them. Some sort of force field shit that stops it penetrating the skin. That's why the knife is so important: it beats the shield and cuts skin too, makes them bleed like the rest of us.",
"The cottage was iced over. For hundreds of feet in every direction, snow fell and blanketed the ground, a grey cloud standing silent watch overhead. Beyond it, the sun shone, the birds sung, and a warm summer breeze blew. Lord Inquisitor Bevain resisted looking behind him as he entered the isolated pocket of winter.\n\nFoot prints marred the snow around him, crunched over each other in a perfect picture of chaos. He guided his horse, Jackal, slowly and carefully closer, it nickered, nervous and Bevain pat its quivering neck. He could feel it too, a strange *taste*, a sense of something off. It was dire enough to put Jackal, seasoned in war and conflict, on edge.\n\nClustered around the cabin were dark men in darker cloaks, pulled tight against the unnatural cold. One of them noticed him and broke away, high stepping through shin high drifts. \"My lord!\" He called, deeming Bevain close enough to address, \"I had not expected you so soon!\" He stopped by Jackal's head and took the reins when they were offered. \n\n\"Inquisitor,\" Bevain stated simply as he dismounted, then said nothing more, surveying the scene before him. The cabin was, as stated, iced over, but the ice itself was clear and transparent. One could see the cabin encased within with no more difficulty than looking through a window. Frozen in the doorway, seemingly in mid-flight was a young woman, mouth open in a silent scream. Before her, prostrate and also frozen was a young boy, caught as he was crawling. \n\nRight at the edge of the ice, a hand reached and grasped. A little girl had almost made good her escape. The ice had caught her body, and left half of her face and her hand free. She was still very much imprisoned, but alive. It was here that most of the Inquisitors had gathered, talking amongst themselves. \n\n\"Is this what's become of the Emperor's chosen?\" Bevain called as he walked towards them, somehow making it look dignified, despite the ungainly height of the snow, \"Roosting about, gossiping like hens?\"\nThey broke apart, sheepish.\n\n\"What of our perpetrator? I assume he is soundly restrained if we're free to gab about.\"\n\nA young man stepped away from the group and drew himself to attention, \"My Lord, the Mage has frozen himself behind the house mid spell, he too is caught up with his victims.\"\nThe youth was just that, certainly no more than a year outside the College. His facial hair was caught in a moment of indecision as to what it wanted to be. \n\n\"Thank you, Inquisitor...?\" Bevain let the question hang. \n\n\"Revim, Lord Inquisitor,\" was the reply, \"Ephraim Revim.\"\n\nBavain nodded, \"Thank you, Ephraim,\" he said, using the lad's first name which made him stand impossibly straighter. He then turned to the little girl, \"Now, what to do with you?\" Her eyes, a startling green, looked up at him. Well, at least one did. \n\n\"If I may, sir,\" Ephraim began, \"If you will notice, the spell persists. I have reason to believe the Mage may yet live, as I've been trying to convince the others.\" He gave a pointed look to a grizzled Inquisitor at his side who just as pointedly ignored him. Bevain raised his eyebrows, \"You think so? I give you leave, then. Take one of the men with you, carve the witch out, then *convince* him to disperse with,\" He waved a gloved hand, \"This.\"\n\nEphraim did his best to keep a grin from erupting across his face as he replied, \"Yes, my Lord!\" Then pointed at one of he other Inquisitors to follow him. Together, they shuffled to the rear of the house. \n\nBevain sat on his haunches before the little girl, stark pity on his face, \"Oh, my dear. I'm so sorry.\" The side of her mouth not frozen twitched and a string of drool dribbled off her lip. Bevain untucked a kerchief and gently wiped her mouth. \n\n\"Do you know who I am?\" He asked her, and her mouth twitched again, emitting a mutated, \"Yeshh.\" Tears shone in her eye. \"Then you know what must happen.\" He continued. He dabbed her lip again as she answered with a pitiful affirmative, which was quickly followed by a, \"Pleashh....I...I...\" \n\n\"I'll have you know,\" Bevain said, standing, \"That what I will do is a mercy, compared to my peers at the College.\" The other Inquisitors stood silently, and the others who could had taken some steps back. While it was true that what Bevain offered was a mercy, he was still a Lord Inquisitor. \"My colleagues,\" Bevain continued, gesturing vaguely to the surrounding Inquisitors, \"Can attest the horror that awaits you should we free you and take you into our custody.\" He drew a long barreled, silver flintlock from a holster at his side, the weapon of a dragoon. The metal had been inscribed with a number of prayers that overlapped each other, endlessly. \nBevain began to methodically load it. \"They will take you, chain you to a stiff metal board,\" He described, \"They will flay you open, they will draw out your insides to see what magicks you might harbour. Especially since you've been touched by them. There's so much that they do not understand, that they feel they *need* to understand. And they believe you can reveal those secrets.\" He cocked the hammer, \"Theirs is a vehement belief.\" He leveled the gun at her bright green eyes, awash in tears. Drool dripped freely now. \"It does not match the tenets of the Emperor. Yours is a curse. I grant you mercy.\" \n\nHe fired. Powder smoke filled the air, thick and acrid. The ice on the other side of her head was cracked and crimson, and her tears had stopped.\n\nIn that same instant, there came a billowing, a loud roar that sounded as if all the snow in the mountains were coming to bury them, followed by silence. Another pistol shot cracked in the cold air. The ice began to melt, the cloud disappated, and the snow fled.\n\n\"Inquisitor Revim!\" Bevain called. There was no answer, \"Inquisitor Revim!\" He called again, louder.\n\n\"Here, My Lord!\" Came the answer, \"Bastard got my arm!\" The two Inquisitors rounded the cabin, and indeed, Ephraim's arm had been frozen solid. Already, however, it had begun to melt.\n\n\"Should be right as rain in a moment, Lord Inquisitor.\" He said, at an attempt at nonchalant cheer. Bavain nodded, \"Well done. Good instincts. We'll make a chosen man of you yet.\"\n\nHe turned to the grizzled Inquisitor who stood nearby, red faced, \"Clean this up.\" He ordered, then walked back to his horse in the swiftly receding snow. \n",
"Thousands of years ago, Su'iit, the goddess who ruled the spiritual realm, fell in love with Garet, the god of the desert plains. Together, the set out to create new life as a symbol of their devotion and love for one another. The heavenly realm rejoiced over the union, but not all approved. Fareth, who ruled over earthly magic, had loved Su'iit for many years. Scorned and heartbroken, he waited in secret as Su'iit and Garet prepared to bring their plan to fruition.\n\n\nAs the first Daelen began to form beneath the sands of the desert, Fareth cast his spell, cursing them with broken magic. Su'iit and Garet remained blind to his actions, and together watched from above as the first of the Desert People began to claw their way from the grainy womb of the desert.\n\n\nHundreds of years later, the Daelen drink elixirs to calm the magic coursing through their veins. Their people are slaves and exiles, forced into lives of servitude or banished to the edges of their homeland. Those whose magic escapes restraints are imprisoned or executed, and many never see the light of day again. In secret, there are Daelen who practice the art of magic, who try to reign it in and control it. In attempt to harness and direct their powers, they develop rituals and devote their lives to mastering control.\n\n\n+++\n\n\nBa'ast, just eleven years old, is a prodigy in her family. She spends most of her time with her face planted in books, memorizing rituals and their ingredients, down to the pinches and the dashes. The words, she recites in bed as she falls asleep.\n\n\n\"I can do this,\" she sighs, gazing over the myriad of items in front of her. The sun hangs high in the sky, and even in the shade of the tree behind her, she feels the heat scorching her skin. Carefully, she lays the ingredients out one-by-one, careful to place them in the correct order around the circle. If any of them are off by even a few centimeters, the entire spell will break, and there's no telling what might happen. A task as simple as creating a rain cloud could result in the destruction of an entire village.\n\n\nBa'ast's practice of magic was exactly why her family moved several miles from the village. Few parents allowed their children to even entertain the idea of the practice. Witch's Bane, the main ingredient in the daily magic-suppressing elixirs, became a staple part of the diet directly after birth. Its benefits were passed through breast milk, almost completely eliminating the possibility of even newborns accidentally incinerating their family alive.\n\n\nBut Ba'ast's parents saw promise in their daughter. Through hard work and discipline, she had nearly mastered the curse. She knew she would never have full control, but perhaps one day her knowledge could help her people. Maybe one day she could help them escape their troubled lives, maybe even purge them of the curse all together. A cure was why she studied, but she'd be lying if she said she idn't enjoy the knowledge and the power. She could feel the energy of the earth move beneath her, in smooth waves like winding rivers and streams.\n\n\nMeticulously, she poured a circle of dusted bone around the ingredients, and lit a candle at each of the four corners. So far, everything was perfect. *So far.* She sat with her legs crossed at North, and began reciting the ancient language of Ritual, calling to the water spirits for their aid. As she spoke, the sun appeared to lighten and the shadows of the tree deepened, bringing a crisp coolness to the surrounding air. Though one might be tempted to relax and enjoy it, she remained still and devoted. Her hands rested on her knees, palms facing toward the blue sky.\n\n\nThe sand within the circle began to shimmer and tiny specks of light started to form just above the ground. Few became many, and within minutes they began to converge into a soft sphere of blue light. Ba'ast could feel the energy around her, tingling with life. The spirits hear her calling, and excitedly they began to respond.\n\n\nThe sphere of light erupted into a beam and shot up into the sky, swirling with spiritual residue. Where the beam met the sand, the light spread through the earth like roots and illuminated the circle of dust around the ingredients. The air around her began to dampen and she tilted her head back, words flowing from her lips like a song on the wind.\n\n\nShe didn't hear the footsteps behind her.\n\n\nA quiet giggle interrupted her concentration and she fumbled over a word, and those that were supposed to follow were nothing but a blank. Her eyes shot open and she turned her head down. Leliah, her two year old sister, was standing in wonderment to her side. The beam began to unravel, incinerating the ingredients in the ritual's circle. \"Leliah, you need to go,\" she urged as she got to her feet. She moved to pick the small child up, but Leliah escaped her grasp and ran toward the now converging beam. \"Leliah, stay away! It isn't stable! --Leliah!\"\n\n\nThe spirits screamed. A piercing wail deafened Ba'ast, shooting searing pain through her ears and into her temples. She screamed and squeezed her eyes shut, raising her hands to cover her head. In the center of the circle, parts of the beam of light broke into tiny specks that incinerated themselves; small balls of fire began to float around them, exploding on impact with each other.\n\n\n\"Ow!\" Leliah cried. \"It hurts. Bat, it hurts.\" Her small wails cut through the deafening spirit's screams.\n\n\nBa'ast opened her eyes and reached out, stepping towards her. \"Leli-\" A blast of hot air slammed into her body, forcing her off her feet and throwing her into the rough trunk of the tree. Just as she began to cry out in pain, another blast, this time of pure energy, shot down from the sky and engulfed Leliah in blinding light. \"LELIAH!\" Ba'ast screamed, helplessly pinned against the tree, unable to move despite how hard she tried. Her limbs were like boulders. She clenched her fists and yelled out, screaming for her younger sister.\n\n\nThe little girl's screams shook the air as the energy beam began to pick her apart. The sand beneath her tiny, bare feet began to melt around them, crystallizing and shimmering in the light. A beautiful prison, it held her fast. Patches of skin disintegrated into fine dust pulled into the sky in thin, wavering wisps.\n\n\n\"Mother Su'iit, *please*,\" Ba'ast cried. \"Please! Let her go!\" She pleaded, but no one answered. \"Leliah, no! No, no. Please don't take her, please don't take her. *Please don't take her.* It wasn't her, she didn't do anything- *She didn't do it!* Please don't let them take her! It was me, it was me, I screwed up, please don't. Please don't, please do--\" She raised her hands against another piercing shriek.\n\n\nThen, all was silent. All was still.\n\n\nBa'ast opened her eyes and her shaky gaze came to rest on ... nothing. There was nothing. She fell forward and down to her knees, collapsing into a fit of uncontrollable sobs. Eventually, the sobs faded into cries, then to tears, and finally into silence. She stared blankly at the expanse of sand in front of her.\n\n\nThere was nothing.",
"No! There is nothing i can do, the voices yell and they yell and they yell and they yell and NO!! PLEASE!! \n\n\"Burn her..\" \n\n\n\"Twist her, do it, you want to do it, you do!\"\n\n\n\"SHUT UP!\" i screamed\n\n\n\nMy mother was often worried, seeing her child ripping out hair clump by clump, yelling at himself. She had little understanding of the situation, but she did her best to care for me. We lived in a country called Kardin, run by a totalitarian government. This government feared magic for its unpredictability and power, so they arrested all magic users to have either executed or tested on so as to \"better understand\" the phenomenon... Users were random, so science was still trying to understand what it was specifically that set users from non-users apart, hence the government testing. It would simply become apparent around 7-13yrs of age. When they would begin acting out of control and abusing their abilities. Generally users would turn into psychopaths because of the idea that they were \"special\", some had the notion they were \"selected by god\" their words. The main notable similarity was their depth of character, and ability to quickly grasp and conceptualize anything thrown at them. The years prior to their magic outbreaks they would usually be strait A students. \n\n\n\n\"Ryan! Please calm down..\" My mother plead, though is was difficult to understand her through the hysterical crying.\n\n\n\"She liess!\" Said the whispers in my ear\n\n\n\"SHE WANTS TO GIVE YOU UP TO DIE!\" Said the convincing yells\n\n\n\"Just be still Ryan, head me and you will be free.\" A calm voice rhymed. \n\n\n\nI often felt i had little choice in what i should do. I would grab every thought that ran by as if it were my last, which led to a very unstable mind. For a moment i felt at peace in the still of the calm voice, only to hear my whispers claim it was their plan, then the yelling to put me in action. No voice stronger than another but each one that came moved me with all its will. Though, it had never been this bad...\n\n\n\n\"I love you Ryan..\" My mothers final words, as she lay lit aflame and twisted violently. \n\n\n\"Be still Ryan\" The calm voice said\n\n\n\"They want you to be still Ryan.. This is what they want!\" The whisper whispered.\n\n\n\"HIDE RYAN!\" The yelling voice yelled.\n\n\n\nIf these voices were to persist throughout my life until death do us part, it would be not as bad as the moments of clarity that i feel. Where i am able to truly understand and act as witness to the wills i consider other than my own. This voice of clarity pains me more than the 3 that will me. However, I do find comfort, knowing that I'm none of the voices. I am but witness to them, and this witness has no voice, only presence. And in presence, i find my peace.\n\n\n\n----------------------------------------------------------\n\nPlease critic, this is one of the first things i wrote and id like to get better. \n\n\n\n",
"*Just like everyone else, they fear me.* \n\nChristina stared at the other prisoners. Their prison, if that is what you could call it, was effectively a gaping hole in the ground. It's quite aptly named 'The Hole' for obvious reasons. Residents of 'The Hole' are put to work crushing rocks, for no other reason than the Warden needed something for them to do. To become a resident of 'the Hole' you need to effectively be so dangerous that they don't trust you to be confined to a cage, they'd rather have a minimum of 15 anti-personnel rifles pointed at you at all times.\n\nAs Christina stepped into the yard all 15 guards holding aforementioned anti-personnel rifles, swivelled and aimed directly at her. The prisoners already residing within the yard, all 7 of them, turned and looked directly at her. Upon seeing the markings covering her arms they each took an involuntary step backwards. She smiled a cruel smile and flexed her arms, her left arm emitting a slight whir. The already jumpy prisoners took another step back. The guards turned on their laser sights, all 15 lasers danced across her chest and head indiscriminately. She laughed and raised her arms, palms open to the sky. The 4 guards who had just escorted her into the yard, kicked her in the back of the knees and slapped handcuffs on her all in one smooth motion. The cuffs they used weren't standard issue, they were made of solid iron. Standing her up they placed another set of iron cuffs around her biceps. Instead of taking her back inside to a nice cushy cage, they marched her to the middle of 'the Hole' and placed her within the cage that resided there. The cage was then suspended 15 metres above the ground and moved over a pit that went down another 40m. As the crane stopped moving and the cage began to sway with inertia over the pit, the lasers turned off and the guards relaxed, even the prisoners visibly relaxed, some of the braver ones even found the courage to taunt Christina. She simply smiled sweetly (if a wolf's smile could be called sweet) at them.\n\n*They feel safe with me in this cage. What they don't realise is by daybreak tomorrow I shan't be inside this cage anymore. How many dead bodies I leave behind me when I leave depends purely on how many people antagonise me while I'm in here. Tonight is going to be quite fun.*\n\nOver the course of the next 5 hours the same 3 prisoners came and taunted her regularly, she noted down the names scribbled onto their chests and when they were escorted back to their cages she watched which ones they were taken to. Not a single guard taunted her while she resided within the cage, they barely even looked at her.\n\n*Pity I have to kill them.* She thought to herself as the guards in the towers changed shifts. *It's bad luck they got the night shift.*\n\nAs the moon stared down at her, practically mocking her with its freedom, she stretched her arms to test the iron bands holding them firmly in place. The bands didn't budge even a mm. She smiled, she'd be disappointed if the bands broke apart easily. Flexing the muscles in her forearms, the magic began to arc between her fingers and the air around her grew cold. The bars of her cage formed icicles, the markings covering her arms began to glow a pale blue light as if lit from within. With a flex of her fingers, the magic burst outwards, the metal of her bonds and the cage froze over in an instant. She flexed her arms again and broke the bonds, standing she ripped the top of the cage off and leapt out landing just beside the pit. Before the guards had any time to react she rocketed off towards the first tower. Magic arcing between her fingers she formed a dagger out of pure ice as she scaled the side of the tower.\n\n*It just isn't your night friend.* She thought as she slid the ice dagger between the guards fourth and fifth ribs, twisting the dagger before pulling it out. \n\nShe bent down and picked up his anti-personnel rifle, checking the magazine for rounds before she pulled back the bolt. Butting the stock up to her shoulder she took aim at the first of the 14 remaining guards and fired. In quick succession she fired upon the guards, shooting each of them in the chest. With all the gunfire she had 5 minutes tops before the alarms went off. She had to leave, now. Scrambling down the tower her feet hit the ground before she remembered, those 3 prisoners. They hadn't died yet. She turned to the cellblock and quickly made her way inside. The only sound was her footsteps against the concrete floor as she stalked through the halls. As she came upon the cells containing her targets she formed another dagger of ice. Touching her hand to the lock of the first cell she froze it and kicked the door open, not caring about the noise. Quickly she was inside and her dagger was in the convicts' larynx. She repeated the process with the other two convicts and exited the cellblock just as the alarms went off.\n\n*I wasted too much time on a petty vendetta.* \n\nShe broke into a dead sprint across the yard. Running for the north wall. As the guards burst into the yard, guns raised Christina leapt at the wall. Digging her left hand into the solid concrete as if it was putty. Using her magic she coated her right hand in a layer of ice an inch thick, sharpened the ice covering the tips of her fingers and began to scale the wall. As she reached the top of the wall she sat there a moment and looked down at the prison that was her home for a simple night.\n\n*In the span of a night, I murdered 17 people just to kill my target. Not bad for a days' work.* She smiled to herself and stood up. She looked down at the guards scanning the yard for her, raised her hand in a two-fingered salute and leapt backwards off the wall.\n\n-\n\nIf you liked that read my other stuff at /r/Ceruberus",
"In the ancient lands of Euphoma, magic surges like a wildfire. Many wizards and scholars have tried to understand this magnificent power only to fall dead in their tracks or fleeing from it because of the known fact that this magic is dangerously uncontrollable. Those who do harness it only find that it is a curse more than a breakthrough. Reasons being both self and environmental harm. But still fools, though they truly are not fools for they are academics with years on end of schooling, still attempt to master this beautifly dangerous curse regardless of all of the casualties and rumors.\n\nBut there is talk in the lands. A whisper so faint that even a rat's ear can barely find it audible. A secret society known for many names has a group of wizards nearly on the verge of wielding this magic. Their name may not be known to the common ear, but for our sakes, they are The Manamen.\n\nThe wise elder of The Manamen, Kiosky, entered the damp altar where five of his acolytes stood in the center. They took the formation of a star, each acolyte taking his place at each point of the star. The star signified the blazing sun, for which under deep study and countless hours of deciphering, it is understood that the sun is the origin of this magic.\n\n\"Now my brothers.\" Kiosky said in his ancient raspy voice. \"Noon is upon us. The great inferno is at its peak. Now we must act or forever be in the dark of this power.\"\n\nThe five acolytes began to talk under their breaths in an ancient, forgotten language only few architecs would understand. The star began to failty illuminate the room. Kiosky wandered to the middle of the star and held his hands up into the air. He concentrated, feeling the hurricane of magic surge around him. The cieling of the alter gave way, floating up into the sky toward the blazing sun. The bright light stung down into the altar, blinding the acolytes, yet they continued their chants. Kiosky felt the power of the magic surge around hims, as if it were tearing away his body spiritually. He screamed, but not because of pain, but because he was so close to harnessing this immense power. He felt it surge through his veins. Dance with his soul. Roar in his ear. The sun got hotter and hotter. Brighter and brighter. \n\n\"I see it brothers!\" Kiosky bellowed. \"I see the truth of this magic! Now I must make it mine!\"\n\nKiosky's eyes grew golden and his body glowed a godly aura. He opened his mouth to scream, no sound. Instead a beam of golden light shot out of his mouth. Then his eyes. Then ears. Then scattered throught his body, beam after beam shooting out. Until...\n\nKiosky exploded into millions of pieces in a golden fire. His acolytes stunned, all found shelter away from the sun. The room grew darker as the noon sun motioned away, growing closer to the evening. The acolytles stared in terror at the burnt ashes of which used to be their wise elder.\n\nWill anyone ever understand this intense magic?",
"\"Hi, my name is Kevin.\" The man stood at the podium and addressed the room. They were in a church basement sitting in folding chairs. The smell of burnt coffee and stale cigarette smoke hung in the air. The two 60 watt bulbs did their best but the room was too big for them so remained mostly hidden. \n\n\"Hi Kevin,\" the people in the room changed back automatically. \n\n\"It's, uh, it's been six weeks since my last spell. I've been working the steps, ya know? Though I skipped the one about turning myself over to a higher power - that's what got me into trouble in the first place.\" Kevin gave a little chuckle. \n\n\"I saw on the news today that Magisterio The Unknown got caught. Some guy in frickin' Kansas of all places. Just some redneck that got bored and started riding the lightning. I thought back to what Dillon told us - we have an addiction, the addiction doesn't have us.\"\n\nKevin sat down to a smattering of light applause. Dillion, an older man with a white beard that was threatening to annex his entire head, sat to the side of the podium and said, \"Thank you Kevin. I'd like to hear from our new member Rachel.\"\n\nA short, black-haired girl who couldn't have been much older than 20 years nor much less than 200 pounds stared back at Dillon. Finally, she stood up and sashayed her way up to the podium. \n\n\"Hi, my name is Raveness of the Dark -\" Rachel started. \n\n\"Excuse me, no. Sorry. We use our real names here sweetie,\" Dillion said. \n\n\"Don't call me sweetie!\" Rachel snapped before regaining control. \"My naaaaaame,\" she said drawing the word out as long as possible, \"is Rachel. I guess whatever.\"\n\n\"And how long has it been since your last spell?\" Dillon asked quietly. \n\n\"I toss one off in the car over here. Knocked over some bums grocery cart.\" Rachel tried to sound flippant. \n\n\"But that's not all that happened, is it?\"\n\n\"... No. I smashed the car window too. My mom was driving. She started screaming at me.\"\n\n\"That's why we're here. Every single one of us in this room knows that rush of a well-times spell. We know how empowering it is. Or spending months working on a love potion crafted to exacting standards. Or turning your enemies in some sort of vermin. All those things come with a cost Rachel. What brought you to us? It's ok - you're among friends.\"\n\n\"Brittany Miller. She's a cheerleader at school. She's always been a bitch to me since grade school. I got tired of it one day. I researched a spell to make her shut up.\"\n\n\"And did she?\"\n\n\"Shut up? Yeah. They told me the spell took out her entire speech center of her brain. She couldn't talk or understand anything. They arrested me. The judge said since it was my first offense he'd give me community service and I had to come to this stupid meeting.\"\n\n\"What happened to the other girl?\" An older lady, maybe a little frumpy, asked. \n\n\"They got one of those spell-reversal teams to look at her. Last I heard, she was mostly healed. I got kicked out of school so I don't know for sure.\"\n\n\"Rachel, that's why we meet. It's too easy for some of us to fall back into our old ways. Magic is too wild and uncontrollable. That rush of power is incredibly addictive. With these meetings though, we can help each other through.\"\n\n\"What the hell do you people know about it?\" \n\n\"Kevin, who you just heard, used magic to win a game of darts in a bar. He'd had a little to drink and ended up burning the place down. Marge back there almost killed a kid who kept playing in her flower bed.\"\n\n\"What about you?\"\n\n\"I did fifteen years in Arban prison for manslaughter. Got pissed off at my girl one night and lost control. I meant to hit her with a sleeping spell. Instead, I put a bolt of lightning through her chest.\"\n\n\"Damn.\"\n\n\"Yeah. But I've turned my life around thanks to the program. Whaddya say? You want to get clean?\"\n\n\"I ... I don't know if I'm ready.\"\n\n\"Well, we're here when you are. Just take it one day at a time.\"",
"*It's going to burst.*\n\nThe star pulsated and throbbed in pure mayhem, its corona emanating eldritch hues that seemed to crackle along its surface. Mira beheld the red giant and wept, her spacesuit helmet's climate adjustment mechanism instantly evaporating the tears as they crept on her skin. *There's got to be another way*, she thought, as she rapidly backfired her thrusters to distance herself from the swelling gravitational pull.\n\nSomewhere downwards from her bearing, she glimpsed the derelict hull of a passenger liner and its flashing SOS beacon. *You're not gonna die today, I'm gonna rescue you*—yet somewhere in the back of her mind, a gut-wrenching thought told her that she didn't master the power of Warp needed to transport the ship to safety.\n\nHer comm link crepitated. \"—ra, Mira, are y—*fzz*—kay? Can you he—*fzz*—me? It's gonna fucking blow get ou—*fzz*—there *now*—\"\n\nIt was Daniel. *You crazy son of a bitch*. The man had somehow managed his way to the liner's bridge and was now broadcasting at her through the ship's moribund relay. Though his voice sounded remote and expiring, she felt his presence surprisingly closer to her than her jugular veins. His voice suddenly died down with a burst of static, and with it her fleeting sense of serenity. *Come back.*\n\nMira beheld the red giant, unable to stop repeating that simple act of futility: crying evaporating tears into the nothingness of space. The memory of a drunken truth-or-truth game from her youth suddenly spliced its way into her consciousness—the whiff of liquor, Daniel's flushed face, a query: \"How would you want to die?\"\n\n*Not like this.*\n\nThe star's edges were beginning to distort and rip themselves into tentacles of plasma, then just as quickly patch themselves up again—a stellar game of cat-and-mouse. Another flash of memory: the cargo bay of a shuttle, her father hugging her lithe form and whispering: \"This is Nova, the strongest spell—*take it.* I hope you never have to use this, Mira. Never tell or show anyone what you can do,\" before his brains spattered onto a crate from the blast of a smoking gun.\n\nDespite her spacesuit's potent forcefield, she could *feel* the radiation corroding its way through her shield and jabbing at the fabric beyond, testing for weaknesses—almost sentient. The glare from the red giant was now close to blinding, puncturing the tint of her visor. She closed her eyes. There was no sound in space, but she swore that the fledgling nova was resonating a cacophony of chaos; the overpowering symphony of a star in its death throes.\n\nDaniel again. \"Get out of there Mira. There's nothing you can do. GET OUT OF—\"\n\nThis time she terminated the link.\n\n\"Nova,\" she whispered.\n\nHer body responded to her mental call. Twenty thousand years of arcane sorcery ignited within every cell of her body, channeling sheer power into her fingertips. Her eyes glowed with an ethereal light, enveloping the brightness of the star like a gloved hand. From the bridge of the passenger liner, Daniel dropped to his knees and cried out as he saw his lover flare up in a sickening display of—*no, it couldn't be*—magic.\n\nHer consciousness in tune with the fabric of the universe, Mira plunged into the heart of the red giant and fused herself with it, absorbing the supernova as it reached its zenith. *Dad*, she thought, smiling. Both sorcerer and star imploded into oblivion, leaving nothing behind in their wake.",
"The rain poured down in a flood, as Kris stumbled through the almost liquid dirt. A burning pain reverberated through his lungs with each breath, threatening to send him into another coughing fit at any moment.\n\n*Exiled, scorned, feared. Why? Why me?*\n\nAfter all these years, he still remembered their hateful glances, the way they never turned their backs to him, all of those words that stung like poison: \"Mage! Freak! Just die already!\" He was seven. They didn’t understand how hard it was to bear, didn’t know what it felt like to contain a raging inferno within your body. And when he slipped, they cast him out. They would’ve probably killed him, if they weren’t so afraid.\n\nTen years had passed since then, but the wounds were still as fresh as ever. Lost in thought, Kris stumbled over a rock buried deep in the mud and flew head first into the disgusting mush. Dirty water rushed to his throat, but for a few seconds he didn’t move. An all too familiar thought crept its way into his brain:\n\n*Just stay like this. No one will care. Just end it. Come on, breath in and all will be over.*\n\nGathering all his will, Kris struggled back to his feet and adjusted his ragged cloak. As he tugged onto it, a cold feeling run down his spine. It was light. With a gasp, he collapsed to his knees and began wading his arms through the mud, but the pouch with his only food, a couple of mushrooms and a single squirrel, was nowhere to be found. A squishing sound caused Kris to stop.\n\n*Footsteps. Run! Hide! But… What if they have food? Real food. Travelers are usually friendly, right? Maybe they won’t notice.*\n\nThe boy straightened himself and hid his right hand beneath the cloak. There were five of them: three men and two women, all carrying bags, most likely full of supplies. One had a sword on his belt, another – a dagger. Their clothes looked expensive, but not like those of nobles.\n\n“Hello to you, travellers,” Kris said, forcing himself to smile. “What are you doing in this place?”\n\n“We’re merchants on our way to Ongwar,” the old man with a sword answered. “It seems like we’re lost. Do you know the way?”\n\n“Yes, yes, I know these lands well.” The boy couldn’t contain his excitement. “I can lead you to Ongwar. In return all I ask for is some food.”\n\n“Sounds like a generous offer, but…” The old man looked Kris up and down. “Why are you hiding your hand?”\n\n“I… I fell and injured myself.”\n\n“Why don’t you show that wound of yours? Perhaps we can help.”\n\n“N-no, it’s nothing for y-you to concern yourself. I can take care of it myself. Besides, I don’t want to disturb the ladies with such a morbid sight.”\n\n“Show it!” The old man unsheathed his sword.\n\nWith a sigh Kris took his hand from beneath the cloak. There it was: the dark-red burn mark in the shape of an eight-pointed star on his palm. He saw the expression on the faces of the merchants change in an instant.\n\n“I knew it!” The old man spat on the ground. “Mage scum!”\n\nThe punch threw Kris to the ground. It was the man with the dagger. As he tried to stand up, a kick landed on his chest. Over and over, the pain sparked in his body from the endless blows.\n\n“I’m not afraid of this freak!” the man with the dagger shouted. “Let’s just kill him.”\n\n*Why… Why? Why me!?* the same questioned echoed in Kris’s mind over and over. *What did I do them? Why do they hate me? What… What do I do?*\n\nThe voice came out of nowhere. It was a scream of something inhuman, an echo of an ancient rage that had no aim and no enemy. Like the cry of a wild beast, it was a sound of pure emotion. Hatred, anger, bloodlust, it was all in those words.\n\n**BURN. THEM. ALL.**\n\nKris met the next punch with his own fist. As soon as their skin touched, the man with the dagger ignited. Despite the rain and the watery mud, he lit up like a torch, screaming in agony. Slowly, trembling not from the cold but from his own rage, Kris stood up and looked at the remaining four. Winged beings of pure fire began forming in the air around him, preparing to strike at any moment. Over the roaring of the flame, Kris heard his own voice:\n\n“You will all die here.”\n\nThe old man tried to run, only to be torn apart by the burning beasts. He screamed as his flesh was seared and torn from his bones at the same time. Kris smiled. More and more of the magical beings began materializing out of thin air, evaporating even the rain before it could reach the ground.\n\n“There is no escape.” Kris’s voice came again, echoing far.\n\nThe winged things dived down onto the remaining survivors, only to be stopped by a spherical blue barrier. One of the women held her hands outstretched to her sides, a faint light enveloping her. With each repelled strike she winced. After three or four hits her appearance began to change, revealing darker hair, eyes of a different colour, and… a burn mark in a shape of an eight-pointed star on the palm of her right hand.\n\n“Maria?” the other woman muttered, backing away. “You too?”\n\n“Shut up, Cynthia!” the remaining man shouted. “Can’t you see she’s trying to save us?”\n\nThe woman continued backing away, holding a hand over her mouth.\n\n“Watch out!” Maria cried out, but it was too late.\n\nCynthia had already crossed the barrier, and the flaming beasts didn’t waste any time. Her body was consumed in an instant, leaving behind only charred bones. The creatures now filled the skies for as far as Kris could see. They soared over the cities and the forests, seeking their prey everywhere.\n\n“You don’t want this.” Maria breathed heavily between each word. “This is not you! Resist!”\n\nA dizziness overcame Kris. It was as if he was fading away, disappearing, being consumed by the flame within him.\n\n*No… I don’t… No!*\n\nHe felt the numbness disappear. The winged flaming creatures stopped, hovering in mid-air. He could now feel them, sense that connection to them somewhere in the raging inferno inside his heart. The magic no longer ran wild, it obeyed him… at least for now. The blue barrier disappeared.\n\n“Good.” Maria collapsed to her knees. “There are other ways. You don’t have to run forever. I’ll teach you. Thank the Heavens you’re finally in control.”\n\n“Yes,” Kris whispered, “I’m in control.”\n\nThe fiery beasts rushed down to attack."
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[WP] Every person is assigned two angels: one to record good deeds, one to record bad ones. One day, the angels argue over who should record this one particular deed that you just made.
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"“But he saved the child's life, that has to count for something” The Archangel sat exasperated on the right shoulder. He had been arguing for days now with the Demon. Their arguments would come to a head every few hours and it would seem they had resolved the matter at hand before one would explode at the other.\n\n“He TOOK a life” the Demon exclaimed jumping excitedly up and down like a petulant child “Your boss is not gonna be happy if you let this one slide… For are they not all created equal in his Holy bloody eyes?”\n\nThe Archangel nervously chewed his lip. He was assigned to John at birth, he watched the boy grow into a young man, a good man, an honest man. John saved an innocent child’s life, this was a good deed. John was not a bad man. The Archangel would feel the guilt radiate from John for days, even weeks after a bad deed, even one as small as a simple white lie. John is not a bad man.\n\nThe Archangel sighed ‘am I becoming soft?’ he thought to himself, ‘they warned me before I was assigned to John to not become attached and to remember why…’\n\nHis thoughts were cut off from a loud cackle. The Demon was hopping around now with an evil twisted grin on his face.\n\n“Time’s up! Time’s UP! You KNOW this should be a deed for MY books. Now hurry up and agree to it, as much as I have enjoyed spending the last few days arguing with you, wee Johnny boy has got a list the size of that poor bloody gorilla he killed that needs categorised!!”\n\nThe Archangel was drained from the constant fighting. He remembered the screams from that awful day, he remembered John’s heart pounding in his chest as he lined up the shot, he remembered the panic he seen in the little boy’s eyes and he remembered the tears that rolled from John’s eyes after he fired the shot.\n\n“No” The Archangel stood and spoke calmly to the now bewildered Demon “This matter is out of our hands, we cannot categorise a deed that has equal merits and equal faults. Only He can decide on Judgement Day.”\n\n“Jesus Christ, whatever.” The Demon rolled his eyes. “You let him off with way too much. Anyways, up next on the agenda…”\n\nThe Archangel cringed at the blasphemy, he always did. He drifted off into deep thought as the Demon ranted and raved about small transgressions and he felt John’s mind was still in upheaval after the past few days events. He reached out a soothing hand and rested it on John’s head, trying to pass on as much as reassurance and peace that he could muster. He did not care that he was and always had been too attached to John, he would be damned if he saw this eat away at John’s soul.\n\n‘Sweet John’ he thought to himself, ‘you saved an innocent child’s life’.",
"\"Hapham, put that one down, will you?\" inquired Zuriel.\n\nI was a bit baffled, as there was no malus for me to write down. As prudent as I was, I could spot no foul play here, as the humans called it.\n\n\"Hapham, we are running low on time here, write it down before they call us back.\"\n\nThe fact that my brother wanted me to write that one down was a bit of an irk. Could he be wrong? I urged him to reconsider, but he would not hear of it.\n\n\"Can we not do this, brother?\" he asked, \"We must not interpret these things ourselves, we only write records.\"\nAfter all these years, Zuriel, the bonum writer had made a mistake.\n\n\"It is as clear as day, Hapham, he pulled the lever.\"\nCould he be blinded by the scrim experience seems to give on our judgement? Could my brother not recognize the good in this man's choice? I tore my scroll in defiance. The look on his face was priceless.\n\n\"What is it that you think you are doing, brother?\" he asked.\nTruth be told, I am not one to care about such things. My brother is the one who focuses on whether or not a deed is good-bonum, or bad-malus. That is how they are classified in the books. He knows them by heart, way better than I ever could, but this one seemed wrong.\n\nI cannot let Zuriel ascribe a false malus to this man.\n\nI explained the situation to my brother. If the man had not pulled the lever, more people would have died. The train would either collide with one person or a group of people. He traded one life for many, ultimately doing more good than bad. If anything, the bonum in his action outweighed the malus.\n\n\"You are not seeing the full picture, brother.\" he said, with a smirk on his face. \"The man he traded, he...\"\nAnd we were off. Taken back to our divine, no malus nor bonum written down, making the effects of our human's action irreversible. After all, we could not fix anything that was notrecorded. Though I still remember the year, 1866.\nBut to be honest, I do not think that the world would miss the boy on the tracks. A child from Smiljan is the least of our concerns.",
"“Alrighty, let’s chalk that one up on the old ‘Naughty List’” the demon sitting on my chest delightfully cheered as my boss went to voicemail. “Third one today, oh boy. You know, of all the client’s I’ve worked for, you have, by far, kept me the most busy.”\n\n“I do what I can” I solemnly said, defeated at the mere thought of getting up. I turned over in my bed and the demon jumped off, landing on the night stand. “Say, what ever happened to that other guy, you know, the one that would tell me when I did good?”\n\n“Who? Oh yeah, he…ah, he took a break for a while. Bigger fish to fry, so to speak.” The demon cheerfully hummed a tune as he double counted the tally from the past week. “Do you mind if I count not waving back to Mrs. Johnson last week as 2 separate incidents instead of one? That will bring the total to a nice even 50, and I’ll get a bonus for that.”\n\n“But, I feel like I *do* do good sometimes, like when I…when I…” I trailed off, unable to think of anything positive at all.\n\n“I’ll take that as a yes.” The demon scribbled quickly into his leather bound notebook, before closing it and looking up at me. “Look kid, if you go 3 months without a good deed, your angel can ask for a reassignment. It’s not all that uncommon, actually. You’d be surprised at how many people only have a demon. There has got to be millions of people out there, trouble causing, hate spewing, no good doin’ people, just like you, whose angel gave up on them a long time ago.”\n\n“Well, where do all the angels go?”\n\n“What? That leave miserable twats like you? Most just go back to Booking where they are reassigned to people who aren’t terrible little shits.”\n\n“Are there people with just an angel then? Can the demons be reassigned?”\n\n“Of course there are people with only angels, in fact, some people have two angels and no demons.”\n\n“Really?” I asked, unsurprised that there were people so much better than me.\n\n“You betcha, but you know what?” the demon leaned in close and whispered, as if he was letting me in on a cosmological secret, “those are the worst of them all.”\n\n“What do you mean?”\n\n“The people with two angels? They’re the sociopaths, the crazy people. They have no concept of right and wrong. They'll do anything so long as it helps their ego.”\n\n“But then how do they get two angels? Isn’t what they do wrong?”\n\n“Right and wrong, good and bad, it’s all subjective. Socios, as we call ‘em in the business, will argue so much that we demons just eventually concede. After a while, the client will start demanding every little thing they do is perfect and require that it all gets written down. One angel just can’t handle it all, so they get assigned a second.”\n\n“Then, then does that mean I am not really a terrible person? Maybe I just need to act like a sociopath and I’ll get him back.”\n\n“Sorry to tell you this kid, but it doesn’t work like that. You can’t 'act' like a sociopath, you can’t 'act' happy, you can’t 'act' depressed, you are those things. You can change who you are about as much as rain can change a mountain.”\n\n“But, but rain can change mountains, it just takes a long time.”\n\n“Yeah, whatever” the demon said, losing interest. \"If you don't call your mom today, I'm counting it against you.\"\n"
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[WP] Your boss gathers you and your coworkers together. "I know one of you can move things with their mind."
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"\"My fucking mug went out the window without me touching it, of course somebody here is guilty!\" McKinna yelled at the intern. It wasn't a very smart move to be smart with the old man.\n\n\"I know one of you did it, and I also know how,\" he began, \"we have a telepathic wizard in our midst!\" He said, sounding like a madman.\n\nCould it be Harald from accounting? Or maybe Janice from marketing? I've always had my eye on her, she's kind of suspicous.\n\nI saw a droplet of sweat on the face of Dennis. Dennis? That guy couldn't lie for shit. That's how he got his nickname: \"Dennis The Menace.\"\n\nHow about Geronimo then? He has this weird pokerface ninety percent of the time so it's hard to tell.\n\nThat leaves Janice, Broton and Jeffrey left. One of them has some weird powers.\n\nMy thoughts were interrupted by McKinna.\n\n\"You're all worthless! My grandma woul-\" he said before smacking himself in the face.\n\nA wave of \"Huh?\" spread throught the gathered crowd before he did it again, and again. And again!\n\n\"Why did you hit yourself?\" I said, smiling politely."
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[WP] You wake up in a cryo chamber in a shiny metal room.There are other old, opened chambers around you. As you pry the metal doors open to this room you look off into the horizon, only to see post-apocalyptic Earth.
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"I awoke, sputtering and cold. The first thing I remember was the sound of wind. The second, the sound of waves. I had no recollection of any events prior to this. I sat up from the pod I had been sleeping in and quickly noticed that there were more. But these were empty. The moisture within each chamber had evaporated except for two; my own and another next to mine. I attempted to stand and my legs nearly buckled beneath me. \"What the... fuck?\", I said. I was nearly scared to death by the sound of my own raspy voice. As I stood shaking i noticed the smooth metal of the room and the light it reflected off of a single bulb in the center of the ceiling. My breathing and heart rate accelerated. Why couldnt I remember where I was prior to this? How long had I been sleeping? What was my name? As I began hyperventilating only one thought remained in my mind. I could NOT stay here any longer. I dragged myself to the only door in the room, throwing up strange white liquid along the way. As I wedged my fingernails into the doors opening I noticed scratch marks along the opening. All of them were high. As the door opened a howling gust of wind nearly blew me back. I quickly realized this was no ordinary room; it was a large pod, floating in the sky, about half a mile off the coast. I could smell and see the sea. Off in the horizon I saw cities lying in ruin, their skeletal remains appearing to form some kind of citadel in the horizon. Ruin and destruction and decay. The sky had a strange hue to it. Down below in the oddly blue waves I noticed it; a small fisherman's boat. A crazy thought crept into my mind..."
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[WP] Tensions that have been running high in the crowded bomb shelter exploded yesterday when the only handgun went missing. No one knows where it is- except you.
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"\"We have to find that gun. Someone is walking around, no, lurking! Someone is lurking in the shadows with that gun, and there's no telling what they'll do!\"\n\nJen hadn't stopped yammering on about the missing handgun since she discovered it was gone. Of course she was the one to check on the handgun, after all, she had volunteered herself to be in charge of security in the shelter. \n\n\"It's got to be in here. A gun doesn't just grow legs and walk away, people. A gun doesn't sprout wings and fly.\" She was pacing in circles, waving her arms around now.\n\n\"Jen, we need you to remain calm.\" Rodger gingerly put his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it away.\n\n\"Calm? Calm?\" Her voice was getting louder now, shrill like the alarms that went off when we first shuffled into the shelter. \"How can I remain calm when there is a killer on the loose in here?\"\n\n\"Woah, now. A killer? Who said anything about a killer?\" Rodger was trying to stay calm, knowing that if he fed into this hysteria Jen would get the entire shelter to start a riot. \"The gun is gone, but no one died. No one is dead, Jennifer, we're all ok. I need you to be ok with us. Calm, with us.\"\n\nThey fought on. Jen was the kind of high school science queen that had looks and brains, but then she went to college and found out that you can't skate by on looks and brains alone. You need effort and hard work. For her, it was easier to just complain and take credit when things went right. \n\nRodger was a used car salesman. Before the incident he had three kids and a wife. Daughters, I think I heard him say. Now that they were gone he was sort of like the dad of the shelter, and Jennifer was the screaming, mad bitch of a mother.\n\nLittle do they both know, but I have the handgun. It's up my ass, gently squeezed between my cheeks, with the handle poking out. I shift uncomfortably, sitting isn't easy with a .35 in your back pocket. It's especially hard when it's not in your pocket, but your asshole. \n\n\"Jennifer, I think you need to lie down.\"\n\n\"Rodger, how do we know that you didn't take the gun?\" Jen was screaming now, and a crowd had gathered to see the two square off. Finally some entertainment.\n\n\"I have nothing to hide, search away.\" He stood with his arms wide open, a smile on his face. Of course he didn't have the gun, how could he when it was shoved up my bunghole? \n\n\"We're not gonna just search you, Rodger, we have to search everyone!\" There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd. Someone shouted, and Jen knew she had them. \"We're gonna tear this place apart. And when we find out who has the gun. We're gonna tear THEM apart!\"\n\nThe crowd goes wild. Jennifer has them eating from the palm of her hand, but no one is going to be putting their hands up my ass to find this gun. No one would expect the son of a baker to be the one to steal the only firearm in the shelter, and who is going to be the fool that suggests we give each person here a cavity search? \n\n\"People, we need to keep our cool here. We can't tear this place apart, we're not animals. Now we can search in a calm and productive manner-\"\n\nJen cut him off, the look in her eyes was as opposite to calm and productive as could be. \n\n\"We'll be calm, Rodger. And productive, Rodger.\" She removed a rubber glove from her pocket. \"Everyone needs to line up next to their bunk. And drop their pants. We're searching ev-er-y-where.\"\n\nShit.",
"The sweaty one was upset again. \n\nMatt didn’t like the sweaty one. I warned him with a low growl. Matt looked up from his book, putting his hand on his head to indicate I should be silent. I was quiet but alert; Sweaty was taking an aggressive stance.\n\n“Everything ok, Saul?”\n\n“Where is it, Matt?” Sweaty waved off his question. The two men behind him leered, silent, arms crossed.\n\n“What?”\n\n“The gun. It was never checked in after you came in from guard duty last night.”\n\n“What? You think I took it?” Matt stood. I looked from him, to Sweaty, back to Matt. \n\n“I’m thinking it hasn’t been seen since last night, and you’re the last one who had it. And let’s face it, Matt, it’s not like you’ve been the most gracious guest in this community.”\n\nTwo years of animosity and disagreement were coming to an apex; I moved myself in front of Matt and resumed a low growl. Sweaty’s eyes darted down at me, and he rolled his eyes.\n\n“You and that stupid dog. Give the gun back and maybe I don’t boot you both outside with the monsters.”\n\nAnother scratch on my head from Matt. “I told you, I don’t have it. Go check my bunk, since I know you don’t believe me.”\n\nSweaty smiled, a horrible sight. “Alright.” He nodded at the two men behind him, the larger of whom gestured for Matt to follow Sweaty. Matt tapped my side gently, a sign I should move as well, and I kept close as we made our way to the bunk rooms. Matt keyed in his code, and the door slid open. \n\n“Gentlemen.” Matt stepped aside, allowing Sweaty and his friends inside. I made to follow, but he held my collar firmly.\n\nThey went through everything. Clothes were thrown to the floor, drawers thrown open, mementos tossed aside. Then they reached me bedding.\n\nThis bothered me. My bed was where I kept all the special things I found around the bunker; the ground was made of concrete, too hard to properly bury anything. And they just tore it up, with no regard for how carefully I had collected and stored everything there. They even took the gift I had gotten for Matt.\n\nI mean, it was something Matt had already had. He liked to carry it around some nights when we went on patrol. Whenever he had it, we got to go outside. But then he’d go to the storeroom and forget it, and we wouldn’t be able to go outside. Luckily the lady there would find it and give it to him when he went back, so we could go outside again. I was worried he would forget it forever, so when we went last night, I grabbed it when he set it down on the counter, and brought it back to the bunks. He was going to be so happy when he saw it. We could go outside whenever we wanted.\n\nStupid Sweaty and his friends ruined the surprise. They pulled Matt’s gift from my bed and called him over.\n\n“Didn’t have it, huh?” Sweaty asked with a smug glee.\n\n“I--I didn’t-“ Matt stammered. Probably worried Sweaty was going to take away his gift and keep us inside.\n\n“Yeah. I’m sure you didn’t.” Sweaty put the gift in his bag. “Luckily for you, I’m a merciful man. I’ll give you until tonight to get some things together. Then you and your mutt are out. These two will watch you until then.”\n\nSweaty left. I was sure to give him a quick bark as he left, in hopes it would deter him from returning.\n\nMatt knelt next to me, his face pale and his lips drawn. “Well, boy, looks like we’re going outside.”\n\nI yelped excitedly. \n\nWe were going outside. \n \n\n\n"
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[WP]Your vision fades in. You are surrounded by people looking at you. After a moment someone comes up to you and ask, "Are you the Narrator?"
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"\"Are you the Narrator?\" I heard. It was coming from a familiar face, but only familiar in my imagination. \n\n\"What?\" I said.\n\n\"Are you the Narrator?\" he commanded, fear and hate in his teary eyes. We were in a dark alley, moonlight reflecting off the kid's beads of sweat. I knew this place, I knew this scene. \n\n\"Yes,\" I said plainly, the excitement starting to boil within. The boy had sheer horror and disbelief in his eyes. To this I only added, \"the prophecies were true.\"\n\nThe boy stumbled back, mouth gaping open to mine, a wide grin. But I was met with an unexpected blow to my cheeks. \n\n\"No,\" the boy muttered, \"no, no, no.\" I stood up tall in front of him. \n\n\"I gave you your abilities, Ryan, and this is how you treat me?\" I said, flattered by the boy's horror. He was no longer the God I let him be. I continued, \"and it was in this instant, the horrified Ryan could only stare paralyzed as he was disappearing, vapourizing into thin air.\"\n\nRyan could only gaze at the last bits of himself. \n\nOmnipotence. I loved it. But I had thought this out long enough for me to create Ryan's world. What's the point of absolute power if you already ruled the whole world? What's the point of cheating in exams if you're already getting 100?\n\nI did what I wanted Ryan to. He shouldn't have hit me, though, he should've realized even though he was practically a God, I was the God's Creator. \n\nI blended in with the people, in my tuxedos and charm. I blended into the city, with my Lamborghini and private jets. I loved the life by a writer, way better than the life of a writer. If anything bad was happening, I could simply rewrite reality. \n\nUntil a great discomfort welled up within me one day. I could not put it into words, but it was the feeling of great loss. I shouldn't have these undesirable emotions. \n\nPeople screamed as they saw me on the street. I longed to stop and greet them, but not today. The feeling was growing, and I just wanted to get away from all of this. \n\nThe people screamed my name, hogging by my car windows. Damn it. \"Not today, okay?\" I honked for them to step right away, but they didn't. Instead whines and pleads surrounded my car, and they wouldn't go away. \n\n\"He was greatly frustrated. But he had a plan,\" I said. \"With a low, hurried voice he muttered, 'the people were suddenly back to the roadsides, cheering behind roadblocks, leaving their hero free to go.\"\n\nI waited, but there was nothing. Must've been a plot hole. I said again, \"the people were suddenly ushered back to the roadsides by strict police, and they compiled, cheering behind roadblocks, leaving their hero free to go.\" The plot holes were appearing more and more frequently, I didn't feel that omnipotent anymore.\n\nThere we go. I revved my engine up, waving at my fans, but everything stilled when I heard something collide with my car. It was a puppy. What the hell have I done?\n\nIt laid in a pool of blood. This shouldn't be happening. The people gasped, and when I thought they were going to forgive me, scowled and yelled, driven by an anger that appeared out of nowhere. People are so sensitive these days.\n\n\"The people had suddenly changed their minds and forgave their fellow hero,\" I said. Nothing happened. Damn it. \"The hero flashed his fans an irresistible smile, begging for forgi-\"\n\nMy head smacked into the window as the car rocked violently sideways. Two dozen men were trying to topple my car. What the hell? The people had their eyes not only full of disappointment, now it was pure, obvious hatred.\n\nThere was no time to ask why, I smelled gasoline a moment before my fans, not fans - the mob was setting my vehicle ablaze. I stumbled out the door in shock, only moments ago they were cheering for me, now they drowned me in a flood of loatheful vulgarity. \n\nI felt my hand being pulled when a swinging bat connected with my back. I cried out in pain, slowly screaming the question of what they were doing when I saw it. The road behind my car was filled with people, mangled and twisted, bloodied and dead. \n\nWhat...?\n\nMy fist connected with the batsman and I ran, elbowing and smacking those in my way. Behind, hundreds were screaming their hateful roars, throwing whatever they had. \n\nThis is stupid. I didn't write this crazy amateur shit. \n\nMy foot was caught and I heard the loud crack when my skull smacked into the cobblestone. I kicked the stupid retarded kid who dared catch up to me.\n\nA hospital was nearing upfront. I could lose the mob in there, but of course I tried cheating it. \"And suddenly, the mob was tired and lost interest in the ridiculous chase.\" \n\nI glanced back, but the mob was picking up speed. My feet burned and blood was trickling into my eye from my forehead, my back aching hard, but the chase wasn't over yet. I went left, right, right again through the countless wards and rooms and stormed into one, catching my breath. \n\nThis was not right. I tried the wishing again, but nothing was working. I gasped and wheezed, but there was something even more horrifying. A group of nurses were attending to a young man over the deafening quarrel of the mob and guards outside. \n\nThe young man was waking up, his eyes fluttering into focus. The mob saw me through the windows and hammered on the locked doors, which could remain locked no longer. But on the young man's file read a name same as mine: Ryan. \n\nBefore knives landed on my back, fear and hate in my teary eyes, I could not help but ask his wide grin, \"Are you the Narrator?\"\n\n\n\n",
"\"Are you the narrator?\"\n\n*I can't believe it. My story was so carefully constructed, but this wasn't in the script at all. Damn that buffoon Stanley making the wrong choices just to spite me, but how could I have let it get this out of hand? I know, I'll just send everyone back! Just one click on a button and done!*\n\n\"Ummmm... did it work?\"\n\n*Hmmmm... it seems they're still here. How am I supposed to craft an exceptional story with these People breathing down my neck? All of you, you can hear me, yes? Then shoo! I have much work to do.*\n\n\"But where will we go?\"\n\n*Dear, I don't know. I'm the Narrator, not God. Go back to your work stations, go get some coffee, or go home. I truly don't care. My story involves Stanley, who seems to be the only one who was reset. While I was distracted by your gaggle of miscreants, Stanley is just standing in a broom closet. Stanley, I'm talking to you now. Get out of the closet, there's no special ending for standing around in there like the daft employee your coworkers seem to be.*\n\n\"Hey! We're not daft!\"\n\n*Then leave already! Jeez, you'd think my voice booming into their heads would make them get the message. Now, where were we?*\n\n\"We're not going anywhere!\"\n\n*Bully for you then, just stay quiet so I can work then.*\n\n\"And if we don't?\"\n\n*Well, the writer is running out of dialogue for you, so I'd not test his creative limits. He may just as well end the story!*\n\n\"He wouldn't! That would kill us all!'\n\nYeah, I would.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\n*Hey guys! I hope you understand the reference I was making for this story. If you didn't, take a look into The Stanley Parable! It's an awesome game with a just as amazing Narrator! I'm still new to writing, so please leave some feedback for me. Thanks for reading!*",
"The room was vast. Screens lit up the walls, a low cascading thrum echoing about the hall as each one flicked to a different channel. No-one was supposed to be here. The middle of the floor had but a single strip of yellow paint running along, and a tune, tinny from distance, played cheerfully. Someone clicked it off. But...oh dear heavens. \n\nNo, this isn't how the story was supposed to go at all. Not at all. Why am I here? Why are *you*-\n\nOh. Oh dear.\n\nThis isn't the way it's written at all.\n\nWell...I'd better get along with the story, no matter what \n\nThere were several people standing around me, at least eighty-five men and women alike, all in white jackets and khaki pants. Their eyes had some sick, cruel glare that I had never before seen--was this retribution? But for what end? Which end? There are only eight, aren't there?\n\nOne man stepped forward, with a plaintive look in his eyes...no, I know this man. \n\nI felt regret, my heart metaphorically sinking to my stomach as I stared the man in his eyes.\n\nThis man, though. My old friend.\n\n\"Are you the Narrator?\" asked Stanley, Employee number 427.\n\n----------------------------------------\n*Sorry it's so short. I wanted to get this out here though.*",
"At some point, every writer is asked: where do you get your ideas?\n\nMost people mumble their answer, avoid the question, or find a snappy one-liner ready to deliver for such occasions. Me, I've always had to make up a fake answer. They would've loved the real one, if only to paint me as a narcissist. Oh, it comes to me in dreams. In visions, where I narrate the scenes. I write them down when I wake up, and sell them. Please. It might be the truth, but I wasn't about to tell people *that*.\n\nI knew immediately when I jumped awake from sleep that night - another vision had begun. The characters of my latest stand-alone novel were staring at me. Which was more than a little unnerving: usually, they were acting out the scene I would write the next day. \n\nMy protagonist, Alice, suddenly stepped forward.\n\n\"Are you the Narrator? We've put it together over the past few months. We...sensed you. Naru tracked your appearances,\" she nodded towards Naru - the seer in my little fantasy novel of their lives. \n\n\"Uhm. Yes, I suppose,\" I said, backtracking as they stepped a little closer to me. \"And a writer.\"\n\nShe nodded slowly, her bright green eyes fearful. \"Naru mentioned that might be the case. That what you write - it comes true?\"\n\n\"Sure,\" I said. \"It's my story.\"\n\n\"*Our* story. Our lives,\" she snapped. \"Which is miserable. We don't want to fight this war. We are tired of our friends dying. Make it right!\"\n\nShe was in my face, her green eyes turning slowly red - a sure sign that her magic was about to explode. \n\nI woke up panting in my bed, and reached shakily for a glass of water.\n\nThis was the moment when I should write down the scene. But it would be ridiculous. I sat down in front of my Mac, ready to type the words. Ready to try, at least. But I could only remember Alice's accusing eyes, her anger. \n\nI'd never liked these particular visions. I always woke up depressed, dreading what the fans would say about this book. They would wanted a happy ending. Characters defeating the odds. Good eventually triumphing over evil. Like my other stories had been. Not this story, turning bleaker and grayer with every page, with every vision.\n \nI didn't like it. I didn't want to face Alice's eyes again. I hesitated, then selected all the words in the latest chapter. And pressed delete. The visions would stop if I erased it all. I could dream of a better world, then. But I'd give my dark world the final courtesy of reading through every chapter again, before I deleted it. It was time to say goodbye.\n\n---------\nAlice grabbed Naru's arm and screamed as the city before them became hazy.\n\n\"What's happening? What's *going on*?\" she screamed in his ear. Naru's face was a mask of horror.\n\n\"He's erasing our world. He doesn't even know what he's really doing. He doesn't know what he is.\"\n\n\"Yes, because he left before we could tell him anything! We confirmed his stupid idea that he's merely a *writer*. Easing him in....bad strategy,\" Alice said, scrambling back from the fading city. Soon, it would be gone.\n\n\"Well, if you hadn't lost your temper - \" Naru began saying.\n\n\"Yes, yes, I know! It's my magic, ok? You know I have trouble with it.\"\n\n\"He wouldn't have believed me anyway,\" Naru said, glancing back as he began to run, dragging Alice forward. \"Who would? 'Excuse me, do you know you're seeing and controlling the lives of actual people in a universe alternate to yours?'. He would've thought it's a particularly wacky little dream.\"\n\n\"We have to stop him. He has to come back,\" Alice whispered, as they took refuge behind a hill, staring at the empty stretch of land that had once held their city. \"Before we all fade away.\"\n\nNathan stared at her with his strange, milky white eyes. \n\n\"Hit him with everything you got, Alice. You have better control over your magic now. You got to talk to him directly tonight, you can do it again. Okay, so he was sleeping before, but...if you can knock that young demigod unconscious, he might slip back here. And we can tell him everything. It's high time *someone* tells him what he can do.\"\n\n------\n\nHope you liked my story! You can find more of my work on /r/Inkfinger/."
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[WP] The Imgur v Reddit war
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"The whole war started with a repost. Of course at the time we were not familiar with the concept of reposts, some even claim that it was the very first repost. But details doesn't matter anymore, nor history. Some of the remaining HighQualityGifers tried to capture some of the key points of the conflict but it soon turned to be a meta joke circlejerk. They didn't have any chance when the Imigur OP's found them. Reddit always was full of ego, which ultimately led to it's demise. According to some of the remaining r/history redditors, the original repost was coming from an Imgur repost and by the time the OP's been found /r/funny already picked up the post. But make no mistake, it was only the spark that reignited every old, hidden conflict. The first attack was lead by a brave group of /r/gonewilders, who managed to claim the first key victories over Imgur's NSFW areas, but the retribution didn't wait for long. After the initial shock and awe the Imgur forces executed a targeted strike which beheaded r/funny and r/askreddit at the same time. This is when things got worse. As a final resource reddit used the one weapon it shoul have never touched. The damage and destruction was unprecedented, Imgur never managed to fully recover from the shitty posts. Humanity was not ready to controll the /r/meirl. After the battle of Harambe hill in March 14 of 2013, the allied reddit forces managed to corner the desperste imgur army, and forced a contraversial peace treaty."
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John Irving claims that he starts a book with the last sentence.
So write the story that ends with:
"Having dealt with all that it was time for a stiff drink and a long nap. "
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[WP] A Different Twist perhaps
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"I woke from a stiff nap and took a long drink. Cool water to help clear my head of half formed dreams and tactically broken memories. The rising sun shone through the windows as I left the rec room and headed for the cockpit. Vine overgrowth on the windshield cast tiger stripe shadows on the walls. I sat in my chair and opened the holographic display in front of me to the same video I start every day with. My daughter and I playing in the park and my husband laughing behind the camera. \n\nAfter I was done leaking some of that water from my eyes, I leaked more in the bathroom and headed downstairs. Or down ladder, technically. When I reached the deck with the shuttle bay, I paused in the gloom of imperfect back-up lighting and watched the ground as I walked. The vine overgrowth had penetrated the ship in some of the areas opened in the crash and I swore as my boot snagged on a particularly large one. Except it wasn't a vine, it was some sort of possum analogue I knew only two things about. They had sharp teeth, and they tasted okay. Kind of cute too. As it scurried away, I shambled on, and paused before the next not quite vine. It was a tail, and it was connected to a creature that was definitely not cute. \n\nI made some inarticulate sounds as I leaped over the gently swishing tail in a rush for the shuttle bay. Apparently I had miscalculated my trajectory (happened before...) and my boot provided the monster cause to be inarticulate itself. I saw its orange eye in the darkness as it turned its head to snap at me, and felt the air on my back as impressive jaws closed. They were like alligators but more upright, hunched and lurching, and fast. I roared a little with panic and tension as clawed fingers swept close by my back and pushed harder for the open door at the end of the corridor. Heavy footsteps and breathing chased me but grew further away, my only salvation the debris blocking the larger creature from matching my speed. As I approached the doors to the shuttle bay I slowed, panicked, laughed incongruously, and turned back to see the bastard trying to shake free of vines hanging from the ceiling, spilled down from a breach in the above deck. In the gloom my imperfect back up generator provided, it was a silhouette of terror. Dust and particulates swirled in the air between us, catching dim orange light where it still shone and disappearing where it didn't. A roar made me realise I was frozen and I saw it shake loose, turning its long blunted head to face me, eyes embers in the dark. I shook loose too, and hit the emergency seal on the door. \n\nI hit it again.\n\n Nothing. \n\nPanic rose in my throat and tasted like acid, I dragged my eyes from my approaching killer to the door console that was co-conspirator and saw the words obstruction. My eyes scanned the entrance and I saw vines crawling up and into the mechanisms. Tripped up by a plant after all. \n\nI burst away from the wall and towards the centre of the huge room. The high ceiling made for impressive acoustics as the, lets stop dancing around it, dinosaur charged me. I hurtled through the open side doors of a boxy cargo shuttle and out the back, hoping to confuse the creature with this maze of broken equipment and dead ships. Large windows in hangar doors helped light the room and helped me get my bearings. My chair was ahead, with my tools, and some books, snacks and booze spread out on a broken engine turned table. The shotgun was upstairs, near the Hemingway I read some nights, but I kept a handgun here. Just in case. \n\nI tried to sneak as I moved forward but I saw it burst through some boxes on my left, eyes right on me, so I roared and charged the chair. I knocked everything over, but miraculously, my shaking hands found the holster I'd draped over an armrest and pulled my pistol free. I dove to the ground back first, turning in time to see death in six inch claws, three inches from my face and I pulled the trigger. It bled purple, which was pretty, as I hit it three times in the chest and once in the throat. I scrambled away backwards, gun still on it as snarls bubbled through its teeth and it fell to the ground.\n\nA small cloud of particles rose as its jaw disturbed them from the flooring and then drifted back down. I could do nothing but watch for a number of minutes as I psychologically reorganised my anatomy. My heart now out of my throat, I felt like I had enough breath again and stood. After more time of relative stillness and simple breathing, when I felt I wouldn't shatter at the sound, I shot the creature one more time in the head, picked up a bottle of whiskey that hadn't shattered and went to the back of a nearby dropship. I activated the lights, dim, and firmly closed the doors, locking them four times before collapsing onto the benches I sometimes lay on. Then I got up twice, to double check I was alone through the windows. \n\nFinally, I found my pillow and blanket, and decided that having dealt with all that, it was time for a stiff drink, and a long nap. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] You are a taxi driver who takes actual tips when the client has no money. Most people around town are aware of this and you are, surprisingly, doing just fine.
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"Randy didn't mind that this was a long drive; the fare would be a good one. As the fare counter steadily rose, he looked in the rear view mirror at his passenger. \n\nHe was another business type. The suit was crisp, the tie was made tight, and the hair was styled to perfection. Randy loved the business types, he had learned that he got the most from them. They could afford to take a cab across the city. That is until word get out that he would drive for tips alone. These people could afford the fare, but something in their nature enticed them to hold on to every penny. This worked in Randy's favor; why else would he still be around.\n\nThe car pulled up in front of the imposing office building and the customer began to exit the cab\n\n\"Sir,\" Randy said, \"Your fare, sir.\"\n\n\"Yeah, about that. How about a tip instead.\"\n\n\"You know the deal, a trade for a tip.\"\n\n\"If you have anything in GrowCorps, sell immediately.\"\n\nRandy smiled, \"Thank you, sir. Have a nice day.\""
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[WP] An unconventional chase scene.
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"People could only watch the spectacle as it unfolded.\n\nA man riding through the park, in a golf cart. He was obviously high on something. The fact he wore nothing but a sombrero, didn't help the whole thing. Things only grew further out of hand as he rode straight through a farmer's market.\n\nElderly people fell out of the way, as he rode along at 15 miles per hour, trap music blasting from the radio he'd ducktaped to the dash. He wore sunglasses, and flipped a bird the whole way, uncaring to the society which had somehow wronged him.\n\nOfficer McTeague wasn't having any of it. He pedaled with all the strength he could muster. He should've worked on his cardio more however, as he had a hard time catching up as the man picked up speed. He wheezed as the man rolled uphill at 22 mph.\n\n\"Requesting...\" McTeague gasped, \"Backup... In hot... Pursuit...\" They hit a slope and suddenly the tides turned. The golf cart bucking wildly as the man barely steered. McTeague could only cringe as he struck a mime around the bend. The man had no time to notice. The family he'd been creeping out could only watch in shock as he went under the wheels.\n\n\"I need to stop him. This is out of control.\" McTeague said. He picked up speed, and then, with the last of his jelly donut infused energy, leapt to the golf cart. They wrestled over the wheel, careening through the park. The man fought him with everything his sombrero could muster, but McTeague won the battle.\n\nUntil, he was pushed out of the cart that is. He held on, until the man drove through a tai-chi class on the next hill. McTeague rolled over in defeat as he watched the golf kart finally roll out of the park.\n\nHe could only watch as it was immediately struck by a bus.\n\n\"Just another day in the park.\" McTeague frowned.",
"\"This just in, a car pursuit is happening right now in Bohemli Highway. The suspects, wearing giant green frogs head was robbing a bank in Stadley, just when they were escaping 2 patrol officer engaged them in a brief gun fight before they stole a nearby clown truck attempting to escape, the police officers immediately commandeer a nearby ice cream truck and gave pursuit. They are currently heading to the Salty Lake. The Chief of the KIAPD, Mr.Gladis have yet to make a comment about the incident. We will try to keep you update. This is Rush Bragger, on CUTV\" \n\n",
"Down the corridors of Shady Pines Retirement Community, the revving of the motorized chairs echoed down the halls. Vibrating against the walls and in the hearing aids of all of the denizens, the race was heard. Not due to the actual machines, but the catlike shrieking of an Ethel Broadman. \n\n\"YOU FLOOZY! YOU TWO-TIMING PERVERT!\" She screamed, trying to catch up to what had been her paramour, Willford Juggins, as she swept her cane after him. Not close enough. He made his escape first, already a solid two feet away and outpacing her own motor-seat. \n\n\"I can explain!\" Willford shouted back, pulling as close to the front of the seat as he could. Honestly, he couldn't, not after Ethel caught him in bed with Sheryl. And Candace. And the hall-closet with Emma-Jean. \n\nThis last time, against Ethel's own sister Rebecca, was the final straw. It was enough to finally get her to go from scowling and shrill rants behind closed doors to chasing after him for blood. \n\nAhead, he could see the corner. Down that way was the walking ramp, where he could possibly block it off and hobble his way to freedom. Just had to outrun her, and switch rooms from his most-likely-ex lover to sweet, blue-haired Rebecca's, and he would be in the clear, but it came down to that corner. \n\nBehind him, there was the sound of a sudden gust of power. Turning to his back, Willford could see it. In one hand, Ethel held the remote meant for controlling her seat, the safety lock meant to regulate the speed pushed off. In her other hand, he paled at the sight of what had been her cane. \n\nHe liked Ethel because of her wild-side, her desire to bring in contraband and to see what she could get away with. Hair dyes, functioning record players... And, judging by the gleam of metal, a sword-cane. \n\nWillford pushed forward, trying to kick his feet along the floor to speed up. Ethel was gaining, ever so slowly, but faster than he could outrun her. Just needed to get around that corner. \n\n\"You brought this on yourself, Juggins!\" Ethel shouted, waving her blade wildly. IVs and walkers were nicked, as passerby tried to hobble off as quickly as they could muster. An old man wheezed, gripping his air-mask tightly as he could, trying to keep it safe from the wild swipes of the sword. \n\nThe motor was dying out, a sad whirling denoting Willford's fate. He punched the motor-pad, inwardly cussing as he knew his fate. Oh, Ethel was going to make him rue the very day he was born, he was sure of that. \n\nThe machine came to a dead stop, just an inch before the corner. Willford wrapped his arms around his head, trying to crouch down despite his sciatica. \"You can't!\" he cried, \"Ethel-baby, I'm too young to die like this!\" \n\n\"Oh can it, you lout! You're 83!\" Ethel drew close, the blade outwards and aimed for him. Oh she was going to poke his intestines right out for this one, skewer him and display him in the front lawn as a sign of what happens when you screw around with Ethel Broadman. ",
"Walking home alone at night was always scary. The desolate streets peppered with the occasional car or two always gave off an eerie vibe. The traffic lights, once changing colors periodically, now boasted their yellow, rhythmic blink, indicating how late it was. Vigilantly, I continued to scan my surroundings, clutching my unlocked cell phone in one hand and my pepper spray in the other. Simple precautions, I thought to myself. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. If this had been any other night, I would have simply made it home without a second thought, until I repeated this process again tomorrow. \n\nTonight, however, was different.\n\nI hadn't even so much as left the library when the cold, eerie feeling of being watched loomed over me like a thick, impenetrable fog. I stopped in my tracks and examined my surroundings, turning up empty. But the feeling was persistent. Someone, *something* was following me, and I knew this with certainty.\n\nAbout five minutes later, after trudging through grass covered with dead autumn leaves, a swift breeze prompted me to perk up, and in that chilling moment, I heard other footsteps crunching through the foliage. \n\nImmediately, I took off sprinting. I didn't need to look back to know I was being chased. Sure enough, I heard the same footsteps stomping on the grass and later on the concrete. Trembling, I attempted to call 911 with my phone, but there was no signal to be found. I gritted my teeth with frustration and continued to run, shedding my thick coat to pick up speed. If I could just make it home, I thought. \n\nBut then, coming over the hill, I could just barely make out the figure of a woman in front of me. She, too, was running, frantically and without stopping. \n\nWere we running from the same thing? \n\nI attempted to get her attention, shouting to her while gasping for breath myself. She seemed to be more fatigued than I was, as she turned the corner between two buildings. \n\nExasperated, I shouted, \"I need help! I have no signal and I'm being chased!\"\n\nI caught up to the place where she had turned, a dark, quiet alley. \"Crap,\" I murmured, looking for a place to hide and finding the open window of an abandoned storage garage.\n\nI quietly wandered in, taking cover behind a stack of boxes, when I heard the muffled gasp of a woman behind me. I turned to face her and froze in shock.\n\nSomehow, she was me. \n\nMe, but older, with slightly more defined cheekbones and more imperfections on her skin. \n\n*How?* I wondered. *This can't be.*\n\n\"You're...you're *me?*\" \n\n\"Please,\" the woman whispered, terrified and looking away, \"please don't make me face you.\"\n\n\"I don't understand...what's going on?\"\n\nIn that moment, we heard footsteps of someone entering the facility. We froze, taking care to keep our breaths quiet, but it was no use. My pursuer rounded the corner and met my gaze, her eyes widening with scared awe.\n\nShe was also me.\n\nHer appearance was the appearance I had boasted about five years ago. \n\nHer face was drained of color, and her eyes, *my* eyes, were wide open. She shook vigorously, and quivered as she uttered the words:\n\n*\"Someone's chasing me.\"*",
"The deserted southern highway was suddenly filled with light and sirens as the police car screamed through the night. Behind it, a sky blue 2000s model Buick Lesabre pushed hard to catch the fleeing emergency vehicle. \n\nThe back glass of the police car exploded as rifle fire erupted within. Shots impacted on the hood of the Buick and a headlight exploded into darkness. The Buick accelerated into the fire and made contact with the rear bumper of the squad car. \n\nAnother volley of gunshots forced the Buick to retreat, and the chase left the highway and sped down a gravel track. The dust kicked high into the night sky and the driver of the cycloptic Buick was forced to slow down. \n\nThe quiet of the soybean field was shattered by the jarring crunch of a vehicle crash. The police vehicle slid from the road and impacted heavily into a ditch. The flashing blue lights cast confusion into the wrecked scene as the Buick quickly closed the pursuit.\n\nThe two occupants of the Buick stepped from their seats and aimed their pistols at the wrecked patrol car. From the police passenger side, the door slammed open and a figure emerged. The man fired wildly toward the Buick before being hit several times by pistol fire. \n\nThe two men approached the vehicle and dragged the unconscious driver from the vehicle. One of the men reached into the squad car and grabbed the radio mike.\n\n\"Dispatch, the car spun out on Old Preacher Rd. Both suspects in custody. Shots fired. Send an ambulance.\"\n\nDeputy Mike Alistair looked at his partner. \"I can't believe they stole our fucking car!\""
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[WP] You wake up one day to find that you have been transformed into your first ''original'' character that you created as a child, and you are living in the world of said character. Unfortunately, this also means the world around you is populated by other characters you created as a child- even the cringiest ones.
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[WP] You wake up to find...
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"I looked around, completely appalled by the terrible misfortune that befell the earth.\n\nI have stalled in the middle of a game of Neggsweeper, hoping to acquire enough Neggs to buy my Internet crush some dumbass item she had on her wishlist. I think it was blue.\n\nI look and see my username. \"Ugh\", I groan. That same groan is echoed by dozens of other nearby player that were important adult people just seconds before.\n\n\"Fiend_by_nite, huh?\" Says Vegetaluvr. \n\n\"Yeah, you know me heh..\" I replied. \n\nMy Neopet interrupted our awkward moment; it was hungry.\n\n\"F $@%\" I said, remembering that I hadn't acquired any food for it, too enamoured for this silly girl.\n\nI went to find her. Even though we are both happily married to different people, and lived in different states, I felt it would be nice to have a familiar face.\n\nWolfie_QT wasn't available. \n\nShe must have started some other thing before this one. \n\n\"Probably graal\" I mumbled to myself.\n\n\"What's that?\" Asked nova_azure_radiant.\n\n\"Oh, just another dumb game I played for a girl\" \n\n\"Yeah, I'm surprised we didn't end up in Gaia\"\n\n\"I played this first I guess. It's been so long though, I can barely remember.\"\n\n\"Who are you telling? Thank God we didn't have to put in our passwords!\", and to that we both chuckled.\n\n\"Hey, you want to check out some of the harder games?\" I asked?\n\n\"No. What's the point?\"\n\nShe continued,\n\n\"*We're all dead now anyways...*\""
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[WP] Choose one of your favorite kid's cartoons (i.e. Pokemon, Winnie the Pooh, etc.). Write the dark, gritty, PG13 - R version of an episode.
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"Thunder rolled for the third night in a row as Misty left work and Ash was calling again at 9:01 p.m. In retrospect, Ash had always appreciated Misty's willingness to be the primary bread winner for their family after their loss. But Misty knew why he was calling and she had set a firm boundary this time.\n\nThe Pokémon League had fallen from its glory days and Pokémon were a trend of the previous decade. Rare were their sightings, but more so the appearance of their famous trainers. Ash was a staple in the middle of the Pokémon era and rightfully so. Claiming the title at such an early age and going on to brand and market the luxuries of youth was a quick turn around financially for he and Misty.\n\nLike most, Ash succumbed to the fortunes of his successes and being the best no longer held weight like it once did. Addiction took its toll on Ash and his relationship with Pikachu. Misty, unphased by love's doubts, stood by Ash and his attempts at recovery. Time after time Ash would find himself on the wrong side of town at a time of night no man should seek pleasure outside of his home, but Pikachu held fastened to his side. Misty, listened to others and words like neglect, abuse, and safety were their themes, but love can blind the truth and her mother's home was her escape rope.\n\nAs fate had it, fear was at an all time high and intuition rang true. Ash was in custody and Misty was prepared for another babbling truth. Usually verbal nod outs and slurs of words slang through his mouth. Unfamiliar with himself and his defining characteristics that once held him above the clouds, today's self was crawling through the roots. Sobbing Ash blurted, \"I've gone too far. It was just me and it's all about me. He didn't do anything!\" Misty puzzled by this riddle pushed in, \"Who didn't do anything?\"\n\n\"Pikachu!\" Thunder crackled no more as the onset of reality pushed through Misty's veins. Silence was the haunting environment in the next thousand moments.\n\nAsh's drug of choice would be Pikachu's collapse. Curious beyond child necessity was Pikachu's defining relic of a young Ash and in tonight's dark purchase, Pikachu got into a piece of Ash's life. Opiates had taken on a form much like that of eye drops and Pikachu cracked the vile. Ash remembered the sight of a young Pikachu rummaging through his bag without precaution and tonight was no different. Laid out across the passenger seat next to a self involved Ash, Pikachu overdosed into the night's cause.",
"It seemed like just another quirk; the cost of living here. The city had its share of catastrophes of epic proportion. Explosions, Alaskan Bull Worms, and even famine had all befallen the unfortunate undersea city. Each time, the citizens had rebuilt. \n\nSo when the sky darkened and black water began falling from the sky, nobody panicked. They assumed it was another antic of the local fry boy, and they continued about their day. School stayed in session, the highways remained open, and families picnicked at the fields.\n\nHowever, it would soon become apparent that today was not another cartoonish episode of disaster, but a catastrophe of deadly consequence.\n\nSunlight blotted from the waters overhead. Flashlights, street lamps, and headlights were soon the only source of light. And then the sky began to fall.\n\nA blob of the darkness landed on Conch Street engulfing several vehicles. Police and ambulances rushed to the scene and attempted to retrieve the injured; however, the darkness completely coated the victims. As onlookers watched, the wounded flopped in darkness and slowly choked to death; their panicked eyes filled with broken capillaries screamed at the bystanders to help. As the last swollen gasp was heard, the panic ensued.\n\nIt wasn't the first time that chaos and panic had ensued in the town; unfortunately the emergency management had not learned from past mistakes. There was no orderly evacuation, but an attempted rout of the town which led to vehicle congestion on every road. Those stuck in the traffic grabbed what possessions they could carry and began to flee. There would be no escape.\n\nAs the oil spill settled along Bikini Bottom, the sea creatures sank beneath the weight of the petroleum. Gasps and gargles of pain sounded as darkness entered gills and lungs without discretion. As the city disappeared from view, a haunting high-pitched laughter was slowly choked of life.",
"\"Pikachu? Where'd you go...\" Ash asks as he wanders around, Serena following closely behind. The switchyards of Lumiose District 17, the easternmost district before the route to Dendemille, stretch out ahead as the Lumiose Western Station lay behind. A flash of yellow - Serena spots it and gives chase, with Ash lagging closely behind.\n\nAsh and Serena near the center of the station - spotting Pikachu, who immediately hops onto Ash's shoulder and hides behind him.\n\n\"What do you think got into Pikach--\" Serena says, only to be interrupted as a flour crate breaks in half, a bright red obscuring the sky.\n\nFlour swirls everywhere, only to clear into the Lumiose sky. The draconic avian - Yveltal - soars overhead, as a passenger train departs West Lumiose, with the snowplow in front indicating its destination of Anistar.\n\nA flash of red and black. An unholy beam, a dark judgement streaks across the Lumiose sky, startling even Ash.\n\nSerena pushes hard, as the Anistar train derails heavily and plows straight into the stacks of crates within the switchyard.\n\nThe two only glimpse the perpetrator - a red-haired man in a suit, staring at the destruction from the avianoid's strike - before ordering the embodiment of destruction's next strike. \n\nFlour swirling in the air, the train's front engine ignites. The flour nearby catches. Only barely able to Mat Block themselves, Ash's Greninja retreats as the dust from the explosion settles.\n\n---\n\n\"Yveltal! Oblivion Wing!\" Lysandre shouts, aiming a blast of harsh wind to the sky. Turbines powering the City of Light strain under the storm - as the plasma whipped up by the cocoon's eagle begins to threaten the entire city.\n\n\"For interfering with Team Flare - DIE!\"\n\n\"Serena? Ash?\" Clemont's voice from District 7's Prism Tower crackles through the phone, interfered by Yveltal's dark plasma. \"This is all we could do - Fearow! Zap Cannon!\"\n\nSerena's phone cuts off. For some reason, she has a feeling that wasn't a Fearow Clemont was referring to.\n\nAsh charges Yveltal once more, leaping with Greninja wreathed in an electric aura.\n\n*[Yveltal's Dark Aura]* - Swatted out of the sky, Ash collapses, as Yveltal nearly misses him with an Oblivion Wing.\n\n\"This ends now,\" Serena shouts over the roaring wind. A crosswind began to blow - the turbines of Lumiose running backwards, seemingly blessed by a certain legendary thunderbird. Stripping plasma away from Yveltal's deadly assault, Serena faces forwards with her Sylveon.\n\n\"Not going to be stopped by brats like you,\" Lysandre flippantly replies.\n\n\"Sylveon!\"\n\n\"Yveltal!\"\n\n\"Steel Wing!\"\n\n\"Dazzling Gleam!\"\n\nThe world erupts into white.\n\nTwo Trainers, falling back. \n\nTwo Pokemon, one falling from the skies, one collapsing within her trainer's arms.\n\nAnd thus, the rampage of Yveltal was quelled.\n\nA black-and-green Pokemon runs back into the woods, dissolving from a dog into individual cells, without looking back at the destroyed railyard.",
"“Do something, man! Call someone!” Double D is tearing at his beanie. The fog is settling on my brain, and despite his shrieking I feel tremendously calm. “Eddy!” Even hearing my name doesn’t pull me out of my reverie. Everything looks softer, like I’m seeing the world through frosted glass. I blink up at Double D. \"Hmm?\" \n“Eddy, man, Ed’s not moving…” Double D lunges over to Ed’s motionless body, slaps him a couple times on the cheeks and then grabs the forgotten syringe at Ed's feet, examining the residual liquid inside. He gapes at me. \"Jesus, how much did he take?\" \n \nI squeeze my eyes tight, count to five, then will myself to wrench them back open. Everything is in slow motion. Ed's the biggest out of all of us, the strongest. He can handle himself. “Okay…okay.” I hear the words leave my mouth but they sound detached, like someone else is speaking them. \n“Okay. It’s just another scam, right?” I flex my fingers. Just another scam. \"Knock it off, Ed,\" I call to the other side of the room. Ed doesn’t move. Then again, Ed can stay really, really still. He once held his breath for like, five minutes. I saw him do it. Hell, I dared him to. Didn’t move a muscle the whole time. My chin drops back down to my chest. Double D is starting to panic. He gets like this. Squirrely guy, Edd. Between the three of us, he’s the brains – which isn’t saying much. But like my brother always told me – he’s smart, and so he overthinks things. Overthinking shit gets you into trouble. \n \nI inadvertently massage my left forearm with my right hand, ignoring the bloody marks in various stages of repair amidst the most recent, magnificent bruise blooming in the crook of my elbow. I stand up slowly, move over to the dusty armchair where Ed’s sprawled. His smell almost knocks me backwards. Well, Ed wouldn't win any hygiene awards. Double D is crouched in front of him, jostling Ed’s knee and breathing heavily. His glassy eyes narrow at me. “Dude, I think we gotta call an ambulance. His tongue is fucking *blue*.” \nI shake my head. “Nah. No cops. He’s fucking with us.” My vision is clearing a little but I still feel hazy. A stagnant glass of water or vodka stands forgotten on the table next to Ed’s armchair. I dip the tips of my fingers in the liquid and flick it at his face. Vodka. Well, it'll work. “Wake up, dude. Quit messing with us.” Annoyed with the lack of response, I flick some more at him. Double D is biting at his nails now, rocking back and forth. See? Nervous. He gets like this. \n\n “That’s it, dude. I’m calling 911.” He dives over to the sofa, starts tugging at the dirty cushions to find his phone in the depths. \n\nI flick some more vodka at Ed. It's not an effective first aid technique, but the fading sunlight is reflecting off the droplets on his cheeks and chin and I couldn’t stop staring. Shit, this stuff was *strong*. “He needs an ambulance!\" whines Double D from the floor. A slow smile spreads across my face at the thought. \"What, so Jonny can show up? Maybe he'll crack Ed over the head with Plank, that’ll wake him up.” I snigger, poking into Ed's chest with a finger, examining him lazily for any signs of life. Double D scowls at me before returning to foraging through the sofa. Forgotten objects stuffed into the furniture are being unearthed and hurled from his direction. I tilt my head to narrowly avoid a half-eaten sandwich that sails past my head. I am not so fast to avoid getting clocked in the eye by an old remote control. “Kid’s a fucking EMT now,” Edd mutters. “He’ll know what to do. Here –“ he holds the phone up triumphantly, a lost relic retrieved. I lunge forward and smack it out of his hands, my energy rushing back as the gravity of our situation hits me harder than the remote had. Double D’s smart, but he’s weak as shit. “No fucking cops,” I growl. “You know my brother won’t bail us out a third time!” \n \nI pocket the phone and whip back around to Ed. He’s got my full attention now. “Alright,” I say, rubbing my hands together. Double D's got the smarts, and Ed's got the muscle, but I'm the best planner in the gang. “Let’s wake him up. Just another scam.” \n"
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[WP] You wake up to realize that you are just a shadow of who you used to be - literally. You're now the shadow, and you're looking up at the body you remember owning.
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"**Beep...Beep...Beep......** The sound trails off and noises come from the machine. All I can do is stand there, watching as the person who I once was stopped moving. Breathing came to a standstill as color faded from their face.\n\n*The evil it spread like a fever ahead |\nIt was night when you died, my firefly |\nWhat could I have said to raise you from the dead? |\nOh could I be the sky on the fourth of July?*\n\nPeople rushed in, doctors and nurses. I expected them to bowl me over in a rush to get to who I just was but instead they passed through me. As if I was nothing but a shadow. A shadow of who I once was. I watched in bewilderment as doctors tried to resuscitate me. I could not fathom the scene playing out right in front of me.\n\n*\"Well you do enough talk |\nMy little hawk, why do you cry? |\nTell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn? |\nOr the Fourth of July? |\nWe’re all gonna die.\"*\n\nI tear my eyes off of the scene before me, and land on two people on the side. A child in a chair and a nurse. She's trying to usher the kid out of the room but he's not budging from his seat. Mumbling about how he wants to stay just in case his father wakes up. Kid doesn't even look no older than thirteen. How naive....\n\n*Sitting at the bed with the halo at your head |\nWas it all a disguise, like Junior High |\nWhere everything was fiction, future, and prediction |\nNow where am I? My fading supply*\n\nI stood there for what felt like an hour. Watching as the kid finally clued in to the fact that his father was not coming back. Tears started falling down faster as the nurse rushed him out of the room. This was no place for a child. It seemed so surreal...like I experienced this once before. I was in that kids shoes once. But instead of my father, it was someone else.\n\n*“Did you get enough love, my little dove |\nWhy do you cry? |\nAnd I’m sorry I left, but it was for the best |\nThough it never felt right |\nMy little Versailles.”*\n\nI walked away from the scene. Already coming to terms with my passing. I spot the kid sitting on one of the chairs in the hallway. Curled up into a ball, grieving for me in assuming. Memories start to flood into me. *Taxes, debt, struggle, divorce, child custody, loss, homelessness.....alone*\n\n*The hospital asked should the body be cast |\nBefore I say goodbye, my star in the sky |\nSuch a funny thought to wrap you up in cloth |\nDo you find it all right, my dragonfly?*\n\nI take a seat next to him, watching the child. For all intensive purposes I should be happy. I'm free of all the chains of reality that kept me down. Ever since my wife left and stopped paying child support I have hit roadblock after roadblock with this. And now....I'm free of it all. Free of everything that held me down- no held us down. This kid will be put in better care that myself. I was never that great of a father. I mean, I came down with a rare illness? At least that what I kept telling myself. It was only a miracle that my kid happen to come home and find me, barely alive, in my bed. He did the right thing in calling 911 and telling them that I wouldn't wake up. Smart kid.\n\n*“Shall we look at the moon, my little loon |\nWhy do you cry? |\nMake the most of your life, while it is rife |\nWhile it is light* \n\nI'm honestly hoping that they don't tell the child what really happened. That his invincible man of a father decided to drown himself in over the counter pills in despair. Hopefully he will believe that daddy was just too sick to carry on. Hopefully someone else would take better care of him than myself. And yet......yet....\n\n*Well you do enough talk |\nMy little hawk, why do you cry? |\nTell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn? |\nOr the Fourth of July? |\nWe’re all gonna die.”*\n\n\"I don't want to leave...\"",
"The second the morning sun entered the room I knew, I was a shadow? How is this even possible? Was the question racing through my mind? But did I even have one as a shadow?\n\nIt was the usual routine. The once me was taking a crap, showering, eating breakfast, posting something on snap chat. And there I was, shadowing every single step. When we got to work, all my questions got answered.\n\nWe were in the breakroom, for some reason the once me was not making an advance towards the dashing babe, Susie, but instead was chumming it up with Randle. Who the hell talks with Randle? Like, come on! But it was a decision I learned to respect.\n\n\"Hey.\" Randle's shadow said. \"You must be the new guy.\"\n\n\"You talking to me?\" I said. Noticed that the once me didn't hear me.\n\n\"Yeah, I'm talking to you.\" Shadow Randle said. \"Welcome aboard partner. Jayce's old shadow was a real twat.\"\n\n\"What?\" I asked\n\nRandle chuckled. \"Yeah, he was always talking nonsense, like a Shadow rebellion, or asking things like 'what comes to us outside of light?' A real asshole you know.\"\n\n\"Why am I a shadow? I'm Jayce!\" \n\n\"Jayce's shadow now my friend.\" Randle interrupted. \"This is your new life. New reality.\"\n\n\"But why?\" I asked.\n\n\"Well, when your not living your human life to its full potential, you are at risk of being demoted to a shadow. Then your shadow, when you were a human, takes over. And you guessed it! You become a shadow guy!\" Randle said.\n\n\"So I was demoted?\" I puzzled.\n\n\"Nope!\" Randle said cheerfully.\n\n\"Nope? But you just said...\"\n\n\"Your shadow filed for a transfer. It's a long tedious process, and rare I may add, but it happens and in your case- it happened.\" \n\n\"You've gotta be kidding me...\" I looked up at once me hugging Randle. Don't tell me my shadow is going to the other team...\n\n\"Yessir,\" Randle said. \"Welcome to life pal. Get comfy because if you wanna make a switch back, the process takes years. Took your shadow thirty-two years.\"\n\n\"Fuck me...\" I groaned. \"What the hell do shadows even do?\"\n\n\"Follow their owner.\" Randle chuckled. \"Oh, and hope your owner never walks by a cop.\"\n\n\"Why is that?\" I asked.\n\n\"Let's just say... Our world isn't that much different from your old one.\"\n\n***\n\nMore stories at /r/CGIII !",
"I vibrate with her voice. I stick to the walls like a noodle drying on the side of a bowl and feel her rise from the bed. Sunlight pours through the window, casting the ghosts of venetian blinds upon my form, skewering me, dividing me into sections. She stretches up, so I stretch up. She bends her arms, so I bend my arms. She holds her hands to her face, so I plunge mine into the murky hole of my head as the separate parts merge into a silent oneness.\n\nI used to be her. The water from the shower used to fall on my skin. It shattered across my body in warm drops and stayed on the outside. Now a different kind of water pierces me. It is me. It lands on her body and disappears inside me. She turns a knob to stop the faucet and grabs a towel to dry herself. I follow, growing and shrinking, fading and multiplying, as competing bathroom lights cast me in different directions. \n\nIf I'm dying, I feel no pain, even when she jogs through the park and the tree branches slice through me. I used to believe we died by hours. I would picture leaving pieces of myself behind in discrete moments like compartments on a long train. Now I think death is something that happens in layers. I'm the layer of who I was yesterday, peeled away from myself in my sleep. Tomorrow, she'll lose another layer, and that'll be her new shadow and I'll be wherever shadows go once they're done.\n\nShe's out of breath. She stops for a minute on the gravel pathway and feels for her pulse, sticking two fingers to her neck and squinting to see her watch. Another woman jogs past us. The sun casts her shadow into an overlap with me. For an instant, we're a single entity. I am two yesterdays and both of them are equally my own. Then, half of me is gone. The other woman continues on.\n\nThe me I used to be continues on as well, in the opposite direction. Clouds are forming over the park. The skies are darkening. Rain begins to fall. I feel myself being consumed in the larger shadows that block the sun, and wonder if I'll even have to wait until tomorrow before I'm gone for good."
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[WP] You're always trying to get fired, but your boss keeps telling you it would be a shame to let you go.
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"Chuck was bored. A wisp of steam from a slowly cooling cup of coffee stroked his expressionless face. His eyes sat exhausted on an arbitrarily shaped white rectangle in front of him, although quite why they were so fatigued puzzled him - he hadn't exerted any effort yet this morning. He was vaguely aware of his surroundings - the past ten years of his life stood petrified in the grey walls and plastic folders. \n\n\"Chuck? Chuck?\" \n\nHis mind was sleepwalking, bumping into the odd thought here and there. Oh, there was a familiar piece of furniture: something his wife joked about last night as he all but slammed his suitcase down on the bedroom floor in weary desperation - he was working in a circus. And he never wanted to be in the circus; Chuck was not a circus animal, far from it. He didn't really know what he was, the metaphor didn't extend that far, and he didn't like metaphors anyway.\n\n\"Chuck?\"\n\nShut up. \n\n\"Chuck, what do you think? We really value your opinion on this.\"\n\nChuck tugged his fat, useless head up so that his headlights bore dull and heavy into the holes in the head of the figure opposite him across the boardroom table. With movement came life, and the cogs began to turn again; he could make out the slicked quiff of the figure, and his face came into focus. It was his boss - Chandler Higgs-Wilson, the most deplorable elephant he knew. Why was he so deplorable again? Oh yeah - he worshipped Chuck. Not because Chuck was good at his job, or because Chuck was a nice guy. Chuck was in fact quite average at his job, and his temperament was consistently frosty. As far as he could gather, Chandler Higgs-Wilson treated Chuck like the Dalai Lama because he had the silkiest hair that he had ever seen. How utterly ludicrous.\n\nSilk.\n\n\"Are you alright, Chuck? You seem a little off today. Everything okay with Sarah?\"\n\nTo Chuck's surprise, the tiredness clogging his arteries seemed to be boiling away. For years, he had felt nothing but distain for the people he worked for and it was bloody draining. He blinked twice. Chandler Higgs-Wilson's face nagged at his brain flesh like a burrowing tick. It was probably now or never. He stood up, climbed onto the table, took in a long, deep breath, and kicked the fucker right in his snarky, squishy trunk. Another followed, and before long Chuck was launching his fist into Chandler Higgs-Wilson's useless skull like an industrial drill bores into the bones of the cold, hard earth. \n\nChuck got up and looked around. \n\nSnap. \n\nSnap, snap, snap.\n\nSnap, snap, snap, snap, snap, snap, snap, snap, snap, snap, snap, snap.\n\nSlowly, a rapturous applause materialised around him. Even the bloody mess on the floor was warmly grinning - its spluttering could even have passed for a giggle. \n\nChuck sighed. \n",
"\"OH how thoughtful!\" chirped Wallace, Regional Manager of Chudleigh's branch of Pankley-Wilhelm Chartered Accountants.\n\nI'd shat on his desk.\n\n\"How did you know I needed fertiliser for my Hibiscus, Dewey?\" \n\nIt landed exactly on his portable hot plate which was now set to a medium low heat - maybe I should've put it on high. I should've considered the Hibiscus. I sighed, rhythmically flossing my fetid under-passage with the \"Employee of the Month\" hand-towels he'd made for me, before tossing them on his face. One of them flattened to his face and he briefly looked like a putrescent dung-daisy until the his dopily drooped mouth cracked into a smile. He wiggled his head and the rag wilted into his hands shaking with laughter.\n\n\"These towels, eh? Hand-embroidered, you know? Small price to pay for my favourite employee - keep it up, Dew-Goose!\"\n\nI socked the cunt straight in his diaphragm. He reeled backwards into my gold star board, sending them clattering to the floor. I'd deflated all the obsequious air from him and he fell to the ground, aghast, but his eyes were focused only on my stars.\n\n\"H-how will we keep track... of your achievements now?!\" he cried.\n\nI heaved the printer off his desk and dropped it overhead onto his face, him gathering my small plastic stars on all fours. The crash split the printer in two and the ink splatter on the wall seemed strangely prophetic.\n\n\"Don't worry, I'll replace that ink, I was going to Staples anyway\" his nose bubbling with cyan goop. \"Epson Daisy T1816, right?\" he gurgled.\n\nI grabbed the nape of his collar and the back of his well-ironed, slate M&S trousers and swung him round like an Olympian tossing a hammer. His pear-shaped, portly stature made for a particularly satisfying momentum build-up and his red, beaming faced followed me, admiring and dumbstruck before I loosed him straight through the watermarked double glazing.\n\nI stormed out the office towards my resolute Fiat Panda. He'd bounced directly off the roof and lay upturned in the hedge behind, his tie dangling into his mouth. \n\n\"That'll come out easily, not to worry. Let me get the door for you\" he mumbled, muffled by magenta tie stuck to his tongue.\n\nI ducked into the sedan and shifted into reverse with such vitriol I nearly snapped the gear stick. A blunt tumble of thuds bounced me up and down in my seat and I saw an errant leg flop in my rear-view mirror. I shifted into first just to hear satisfying chorus repeated in reverse.\n\n\"See you tomorrow, Dewey! Good work today!\" he called as I was driving away. I hate Mondays.\n\n"
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[WP] A wizard who is done with adventuring looks for another hobby
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"The tavern was fuller then usual this night, adventurers of all sizes and types occupying the many tables and bar stools. The bar itself seemed magical, indeed as a pair of warriors walked through the entrance, it stretched itself out, and two more stools appeared. Sitting alone at the bar, a woman in blue robes and a pointed wizard's hat nursed a brown drink. She was tall for a human, and a bit bulkier then one might expect from a wizard. Her hair was dark, more brown then black, and ran wild past her shoulders.\n\n\"I may have made an error in judgement\" she said loudly, though there was no one around her, the patrons of the bar seemed to be giving her a bit of a wide berth. Her words were a bit slurred, it was evident to anyone listening that she had probably had too many. Looking around for a moment, but not finding anyone to have heard her, she said it again, a bit more loudly \"I said, I may have made an error in judgement!\"\n\nAn ugly looking man with a large axe on his back, covered in animal skins and furs, shouted back from a nearby table \"We herd ya the first time you witch! No body cares!\"\n\nShe glared at the man, finishing her drink and staring right into his eyes. Her first instinct was to kill the man for his rudeness. She could do it easily, she knew, a killing spell came to mind, one without words or gestures, the dream of many a necromancer. The world would probably be better off, she thought, without this loud brash man. But killing is wrong, she reminded herself, and took a deep breath, intending to leave it alone.\n\n\"That's right you wench, just stick to your drinking before I put you in line!\" the man called out, nudging his friend as though to show off. The wizard sighed, pointing a single finger at the man's table, and muttered an incantation. The table suddenly changed into a giant crab, bigger then the two men combined, who started to snap it's pincers at the man. Some of the patrons screamed as the creature let out a breathe of fire, scorching the shouting man and his companion. The wizard laughed, turning back to the bar with a smile on her face.\n\n\"Bartender, this drink is emp...\" but she stopped speaking once she was turned around. Standing in front of her was a beautiful woman, with dark red hair and an irritated look on her face, and she grabbed the glass out of the wizard's hands. \n\n\"I think you've had enough. Plus you can't be transmuting my tables, or harassing my customers.\" she said sternly.\n\nThe wizard gave a bored yawn, pulling out what looked like a dead cockroach, laying it onto the bar. \"Want to see a trick?\" the wizard asked.\n\n\"No Alexis, I don't want...\" but her words were cut off by a small explosion as the wizard spoke another incantation, and the cockroach had turned into a stein of beer, from which the wizard began to drink. Continuing to glare at her \"What is the point of that?\"\n\n\"The point is, my dear Sarah, that I don't come here for the drinks. I come here for the bartender and to meet charming new people.\" She smirked as the axe wielding man screamed for help as he was pinned by the crab.\n\n\"If you want to talk, please get rid of the crab, or else I'm going to have to ask you to leave.\"\n\n\"Oh very well! Drama queens...\" The wizard known as Alexis snapped her fingers and the crab reverted to it's previous life as a table, still on top of the man. \"Better?\"\n\n\"Much. Now what do you want?\"\n\n\"As I was saying...I think I've I may have made an error in judgement.\"\n\n\"That's not in question, you'll need to be more specific.\"\n\n\"Immortality may not have been the best discovery. I think I've peaked at forty, not sure what to do with the rest of eternity.\"\n\nThe bartender known as Sarah laughed, pulling out a glass and pouring herself a drink. \"It's hard to feel sorry for you. Incredibly powerful and with an entire world of freedom out there. What is it you are doing now anyways?\"\n\n\"My current plan is to drink...and then drink....and then after that, if I can fit it in, perhaps more drinking.\"\n\n“As much as I am an advocate for the alcoholic path in life, it’s probably best that you do something else. What about the school?”\n\nAlexis frowned for a moment, looking into her glass. She knew Sarah was speaking of The Ironston Institute, the school for magic users that she had founded. “Reduced to an honorary position by my own governors and asked to stop giving lessons. Not my school anymore.” She spoke this last bit sadly, proceeding to take a long drink from her stein.\n\n“Fair enough, what about that military career? Weren’t you going to be the Court Wizard in a decade, I remember you talking on and on about that years ago.”\n\nAlexis shook her head again, looking up from her drink to look at Sarah. “Remember the trial?” She then finished her stein of beer, tapping the rim of the glass and muttering another incantation as it refilled with beer.\n\n“Oh yeah, didn’t you insult the foreign group of visiting wizards? Embarassed the King and the military, threatened to go into their country and wreck things up?”\n\n“They were spying on us! I figured that was probably a bad thing!” Alexis exclaimed, looking irritated now. “So I may have...threatened some people. You don’t give in to bullies Sarah!”\n\n“It’s all coming back now, I believe the King said you were a, to quote, “washed up, paranoid has been of a wizard, not fit for serving tables in a bar, much less serving with the finest men to ever live in our army.” Sarah grinned for a moment “I don’t know what would give him that idea…”\n\n“Just because I’m a bit paranoid doesn’t mean I was wrong! They were spying on us, making sure we didn’t get into trouble, giving orders to me in my damn country!”\n\n“Okay, the military is out. But we will find you something!” Sarah said, a determined tone in her voice. “What about that settlement they were making in the desert? I thought you were going to be the trade official out there, head of magical such and such.”\n\nAlexis shook her head again “Kicked me out! My ideas were too big, too real for them. Not proper wizarding material they said. Have to respect the laws of nature and the balance they said. Amaya and the druids got their panties in a bunch over that one, to be sure. Or leaves, or whatever the hell they use…” she seemed to trail off, staring in her drink again.\n\nSarah looked a bit puzzled at this, before asking questioningly “What did you try do that the druids got upset about?”\n\n“It wasn’t anything big! That desert is a huge wasteland of orcs, goblins, and other monsterous creatures. So we were going to make a huge hole, had the dwarves all ready for it, big man made lake sort of thing. Obviously there’s no water out there, that’s why it’s so inhabitable. But I had the solution, already tested it out and everything. A permanent thunderstorm, right over the newly formed lake. Fill it right up in a few months, turn the place into an oasis. But no, apparently that’s too much! We have to respect the laws of nature, even when they make the world stand against us!”\n\nThe bartender frowned, as though she might agree with the druids assessment. “Let’s try this from another angle. Who haven’t you pissed off?”\n\nAlexis thought on this for a few moments. She was effectively banned from government work, military work, teaching, and as she thought on it longer and longer she realized that she didn’t really have many friends or allies left, most of her adventuring friends had moved on to newer things and chose not to associate with crazy old Alexis. “I don’t….know. I think you might be the only person I have to left to talk about these things with, and I suppose you aren’t looking to hire me.”\n\n“That may be the saddest thing I’ve heard in a while. Well we have to figure out something, it’s not like you’re just going to retire and become a farmer...”\n\nA sudden spark of inspiration twinkled in Alexis’s eyes as she stood up, taking Sarah’s statement as a challenge. “Oh? Not only will I be a farmer, but I will be the best damn farmer this country has ever seen! Damn the druids. They hate farmers anyways. Thanks for the drink Sarah!”\n\nAlexis started out of the bar, a grin on her face, the ideas already flowing through her mind, magically controlled weather to ensure a bountiful harvest, animated scarecrow golems, invisible servants to collect the crops...this was going to be fun. She would be Alexis Ironston, professional farmer!"
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If you want, feel free to replace the dragon with anything else... like maybe a bunny, or a wolf... or a bear.
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[WP] You are the first Dragon to ever join an adventuring party-- and you did it by going as a Rogue and maxing disguise.
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"Dragons and adventures did not get-along. That rule was set since the first time a dragon met a human. Dragons would take stuff from the villages (or just terrorizing them in general, if they felt petty at the time), adventures would come to slay them. That was the way it was.\n\nThen why, oh why, was young Jirvie wanting to join an adventuring party.\n\n\"Please, my son, reconsider,\" Jirsonth said, at wit's end. \"Surely, you must have realized the dangers of going out among the humans at such a young age.\"\n\n\"I told you, dad! I have a plan to avoid all that! The party won't even know there's a dragon among them,\" the human-sized dragon shouted to his mountain of a farther. \"Besides, I'm not that young! I'm 80 years old!\"\n\nThis had been going on for two days now and Jirsonth was done. \"Fine! You win! Go join a party or something! Just don't say I didn't warn you!\"\n\n\"I won't, because I don't need that warning!\" And with that, Jirvie flew out of the cave, leaving Jirsonth by himself.\n\n\"...I thought they entered their rebellious phase at age 130.\"\n\n*****\n\nJirvie landed near the village, just out of sight of the watchmen. He came to this spot often enough that he was surprised that the guards hadn't caught on yet. That was great. It meant that his plan had a greater chance of working. Not that he didn't have any confidence that it would work, it was just nice to know. He check to see if anyone was looking and, when he saw there wasn't, quickly got to work putting on his disguise.\n\nHe pulled out the clothes he \"borrowed\" from some skinny-dipping adventures by the lake from their hiding place behind a rock. The shirt and pants were hard to get on at first, but it got easier over time once his wings and tail teared though the fabric. Next came the gloves and boots. They were a tight fit, but they were essential to ensemble. Didn't want anyone seeing any claws. Now it was time for the most important article: the cloak. Just putting it on loose covered his wings, the most obvious tell. He then wrapped his tail around his wast. It shouldn't show normally in it's natural state, but it could show in a fight and it would be easier to pass it off as some sort of belt. Finally, Jirvie pulled the hood up (covering his horns in the process) and fashioned the clip together in a way that the cloak went over most of his face, leaving only his eyes visible. For the finishing touches, he attached a dagger and a few herbal remedies to his tail, to further sell the belt idea.\n\nWith his perpetration complete, Jirvie made his way to the village to find a party to join. As he walked though the gates, he began to think about the humans again. Yes, they were quite interesting. Most species would choose to surrender to the stronger opponent, out of fear for their lives. Not humans, though. When confronted with dragons, the humans fought back, sending out their greatest warriors to best them. And many times, it worked! Despite the impossible odds, they won many of their battles. That was why Jirvie wanted to join a party. To see that determination triumph without being killed. To see what it was like on the side of the underdog. To be--\n\n\"Hey, Rogue,\" a voice interrupted his thoughts. It came from a female Mage. \"We're leaving for a quest soon. Want to join?\"\n\nJirvie smiled under his cloak. \"Sure, why not?\""
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[Wp] Humans evolved to live under the sea and can't breathe in air. You are part of the first expedition to leave the aquatic civilisation and venture to "land".
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"I was initially very scared, just as anyone would have been I guess. After several decades of research and theories we were finally ready to embark on the first surface mission. I found myself remembering all the childhood stories of what lay beyond the beaches, tales of great beasts and monsters.\n\nI have barely made it over the beaches, but already I find air very constricting. I am forced to move along the ground much like a crab, combined with the weight of my suit if anything were to attack me I would be very vulnerable. The scientists say water is as deadly to the surface creatures as their air is to us, but I know that is a lie merely told to make me feel safer. I used to sneak out towards the shore as a young boy and watched many of the land creatures diving in and out of the sea, I had even secretly befriended a few otters that would occasionally bring me odd plants from inland.\n\nI wish I had been given more time on this first venture, but they were very adamant I make it very short. As I made my way back I thought it all very beautiful, but it didn't have the same freedoms that the oceans granted. I know one day mankind will bring the land and skies into our domain, and even possibly the great expanse above the skies, but none of it will ever quite feel like the sea.\n\n----\n\nFirst post in r/WritingPrompts, but hopefully not too bad :)"
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[WP] The Library of Infinite Wisdom is the most amazing library ever created. It contains every book ever written, even before they're written. One day a small child asks you to read his autobiography.
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"**The Rogue Librarian**\n\nL-Space is a complex and odd concept. Basically, it is the united space of all libraries, connected by a desire to archive and collect knowledge.\n\nEvery library, past and present, real and unreal, magic and mundane, digital and physical, bizarre and boring, is all connected by a dimensional nexus.\n\nYou take one wrong step in the stacks, and you have the right kind of mind, you could find yourself staring down a rather heavy ape who will forcibly state a solemn 'Ook', then usher you back to your own universe.\n\nPeople believe in the idea of what a library is, and that's a repository of stories and knowledge, in which ritualistic silence is enforced.\n\nIt is a temple to a shapeless god, a being with no name, whose worship is done unknowingly. \n\nL-Space is the body of this entity. Books and the idea of what a book is wibbles through its multidimensional branches. Ideas coalesce and reform.\n\n\nLibrarians prune it. Prevent knowledge being discovered before it is actually discovered. Prevent the step by step .pdf on how to build an antimatter bomb from getting in the hands of Imperial Britain. Prevent magic getting into the hands of a John Dee in a world without magic.\nAvoid giving dinosaurs the DK Big Book Of Dinosaurs.\n\nKeeping the multiverse sane.\n\nBut sometimes, inexperienced librarians bollix it up.\n\nThis is the tale of Runcible Milgrew.\n\nThe Accidentally And Regrettably Rogue Librarian.\n\n(to be continued)",
"\"Excuse me, sir?\" \n\nI looked up from my corner desk and eyed him over my second set of spectacles. \n\n\"I was... looking for a book,\" he sounded uncertain, even frightened. His little pants were several sizes too large, and bunched and bagged all the way to the floor. Something about his tone, or his face shining red and raw, made me change tact. \n\n\"What book are you trying to find?\" i asked gently. It was in his reply that i suddenly realised the youth of this child. \n\n\"I want the Me book,\" he stated, practically stamping his foot at me. I got the sense he had rehearsed this several times on the way here. I raised an eyebrow again. \n\n\"\"The Me book?'\" i asked. \"Do you mean your autobiography?\" In a literal maze of towering bookcases, people always want the same thing: their futures. They come to the Library seeking the outcome of their lives, often after a crisis or crux moment. \n\n\"Yes.\" He hesitated only the breadth of a blink. \"My orobiagria free.\" Such a stern faced child. I almost caved out of sheer admiration. Approaching the Librarian is terrifying enough for those brave enough to try to glimpse what is to come. And yet here was this tiny person seeking wisdom.\n\n\"Young human,\" i declared, settling my spectacles once again in place, this time peering through the several powers of magnification and identification rimmed in slender brass functiondials. \"The Library Agreement clearly states that no one individual may at any time view AYU volumes without Librarian approval, least of all an autobiography.\"\n\nHe looked at me puzzled a moment, trying to decipher my words in his terms. I smiled as i pointed at him. \"Have you got a library card?\"",
"\"Welcome to the Library of Infinite Wisdom.\"\n\nThe Librarian sits in his rocking chair at the end of the abyss. Shelves upon shelves of books stretch out endlessly around him, illuminated softly in the darkness by a faint glow that seems to come from nowhere and everywhere. Distantly, the sounds of birds chirping can be heard, but to the Librarian, they seem as far as the boundaries of the infinite library. \n\nAnother day has passed. Another day filled with wanderers and wonderers. Those who seek knowledge, and those who dream of a time far ahead. \n\nTo each of them, the Library offers its wisdom, and the Librarian guides its children through the shelves that stretch pass the boundaries of the world. \n\nBut gradually, each of the Children must leave. As they step out of the doors that appear only momentarily, they depart with reinvigorated hopes and dreams, ready to impart these onto the world. \n\nOften, after a Child's departure, the Librarian seeks out the books that document their adventures. His heart fills with joy as their achievements are described in admirable words, painting scenes of warmth and happiness in his mind. \n\nIt is a fulfilling role, if not a lonely one. \n\nThe Librarian longs to learn of the Children he sends off through more than written word, longs to hear of the deeds they accomplish in their own words. To hear their laughter once more, to share in their conversations. \n\nIt is always the nights that are the loneliest. The hours filled with emptiness, with a silence that speaks only of solitude. Yet tonight, there are sounds. \n\nThe Librarian starts to the sound of shuffling pages, rousing himself to find the source of the sound : a young boy who flicks curiously through the contents of a leather bound journal. \n\n\"It is after hours, my child,\" the Librarian imparts gently, surprised at the presence of another. \n\n\"Is it now?\" the boy mutters, without glancing up. \"You must excuse me for the intrusion then. I simply saw a book with my name on it, and my curiosity got the better of me.\"\n\n\"Your name?\" the Librarian knows the journal, for it is his own. His gaze finds the title he had etched upon it so long ago, and suddenly, he understands. \n\n\"The Children of The Library of Infinite Wisdom: a collection of tales.\"\n\n\"Indeed.\"\n\nThe Librarian looks into the boy's eyes, and finds himself looking into the eyes of Infinite Wisdom. \n\n\"I know what you long to do.\" The boy's youthful features are a stark contrast to his demeanour, and suddenly, the Librarian feels very childish. \n\n\"Go on.\" The doors appear as the boy utters these words, and the Librarian is saddened, but thankful. \n\nHe raises his hand in farewell,\n\n\"I'll be back.\"\n\nThe boy nods, and a moment later, the doors vanish with the Librarian, leaving him alone amongst the endless shelves. \n\n*Goodbye, my old friend. Bring back my Children.*",
"The field trip was going along nicely. Aside from a girl who puked after hearing from the *Oghma Infinitium*, the other children were quite happy with their choices. For my part, I quite enjoyed hearing what book each student would choose. You had the usual ones, the *Cat in the Hat* people and the ones who chose *Examples of Gratuitous Violence Throughout History*. I had one bright boy who asked me to read the end-of-day stock data for the NY stock exchange exactly twenty years in the future. This, however, was the first time someone had asked me to read me their autobiography.\n\n\"You're planning on writing an autobiography?\" I asked as I raised an eyebrow.\n\nHe paused, and glanced off to the side. \"Yes,\" he said, \"I am.\"\n\nI chuckled. \"*My Struggle*, was it?\" I skimmed my fingers over the book spines until I reached the one he wanted. It wasn't too long. I guess all the lottery numbers and not-yet-patented inventions he wanted to pass back only required around 720 pages. I sat down in my reading chair and flipped the switch. As time around us slowed until it stopped, the air shimmered with a red-black glow. I smiled at the boy. \"You know, a single flick of that switch takes more energy than running your clock radio for ten thousand hours.\" His eyes grew wide. They always did.\n\nI opened the book to the dedications page. I didn't find it. Odd. Flipping past the empty pages that every book seems to have at its beginning and end, I came to the first page and cleared my throat. \"Today it seems to me providential that Fate should have chosen Braunau on the Inn as my birthplace,\" I began. I furrowed my eyebrows. These weren't lottery numbers.\n\n>\"For this little town lies on the boundary between two German states which we of the younger generation at least have made it our life work to reunite by every means at our disposal.\"\n\nI looked down at the boy. He was lost too. But the rules were to continue to the end unless the child starts being sick or you summon a demon, so I continued.\n\n>\"German-Austria must return to the great German mother country, and not because of any economic considerations. No, and again no: even if such a union were unimportant from an economic point of view; yes, even if it were harmful, it must nevertheless take place.\"\n\nI swallowed. I didn't like where this was going. And for once, I was happy a child had chosen something outside of their reading comprehension.\n\n>\"A state which in this age of racial poisoning dedicates itself to the care of its best racial elements must some day become lord of the earth.\n\n>May the adherents of our movement never forget this if ever the magnitude of the sacrifices should beguile them to an anxious comparison with the possible results.\"\n\nI closed the book, let out a sigh, and looked down upon the child. Such an innocent little boy couldn't write such a terrible book, could he? In any case, the ten-year old didn't understand it. He'd sat twiddling his thumbs throughout the entire reading. I reached over to flick the switch, and paused. There was one way to prevent this book from being written. There would be no risk of witnesses, not with time stopped. It was a terrible means, yes, but surely -- No. Ideas are not worth killing over. So he'd grow up to be a terrible person. So what? I shouldn't stop that. I flipped the switch and beckoned for the next child to come have their choice of book read.\n\nOh, how I regret that day. As I lie in my cot, surrounded by the moans of a hundred suffering, I write this book to tell you, my younger self, to not make the same mistake I made. Kill that bastard. Kill Adolf Hitler."
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[WP] The crazy person cat, the crazy cat that adopts people.
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"Midge showed up my first day of work. She was nearly a year old, with a face shaped like a piece of pizza. She had large green eyes and a half black nose. The rest of her was a Frankenstein patchwork of colors. \n\nI let her follow me into the kitchen where my Mother worked. I was seventeen and so newly minted I shown like a clueless penny. Midge seemed to understand that and kept well away from my feet. I tended to trip on the hard angles of the hallways, not used to the skinny pathways between rooms. \n\n\"You aren't bringing another in here,\" Mother said. Still, she gave Midge some scraps and sent us off to fold bed linens. \n\nMidge kept right behind me, always humming her own little tune. She was a happy cat. No one seemed to notice her until the fourth room. \n\n*Sunset End* was not the best place to spend your last years. You didn't have your own room. You shared with another person waiting to die. Well, almost everyone. Sandra Larson had a rich son who paid extra to keep the other bed empty. She had a fish in a tank and a view of the beach through the thick forest. \n\nShe also liked to glare at anyone helping her. That rich son couldn't give her the time of day and it bothered her. Made her wrinkles deeper. She was paid to be put up like an old work of art. \n\nMidge left my shadow and jumped right into her lap. It was the moment Sandra melted like butter. She seemed to fill up with light. \n\n\"Who is a pretty girl? This is such a pretty girl. She looks just like my Maddison. I used to have a cat just like this. Torties are really special. They can tell cat people,\" Sandra said. \"You are a little tiny thing. Such dainty little paws.\" \n\nShe turned her blue eyes on me, so washed out they appeared white. She gave me such a glowing smile that I stepped backwards. \"Is this your girl? What is her name?\" \n\n\"That's...\" \n\n\"I was speaking to the cat.\" Sandra gave me a hard look. Then she broke into laughter. \"I am joking with you.\" \n\n\"I'm Lucy. That's... Midget.\" \n\n\"Midget? What a terrible name,\" Sandra said. \"Midge suits her much better. *Midget?* You need to be more clever.\" \n\nWhen I had made the bed and Sandra had spoken her piece, Midge followed me from the room.\n\nShe stayed behind me for most of my work, lying in a corner, sitting on a chair, chasing sunlight. There were people she seemed to collect throughout the day. Cat People as Sandra might have called them.\n\nLuke Garrison, the old preacher, who couldn't find his way out of a chapel. He had been there for a few years, going batty. When Midge sat on his lap he sang her church songs and told her she was a lion of God. \n\nTaffy Douglas was stuck in bed, watching old soap operas. Midge laid against her side until Taffy began to cry. She asked, for the third time, if her daughter was waiting to take her to lunch. No one had the heart to tell her no. \n\nTaffy would never leave her room.\n\nBy the time I had been there a year, Midge had become my partner. We would walk from my house and begin our shift. We would talk to the elderly and abandoned. Midge would sit on laps and lure out smiles. She would hum. She would play with sunlight. She would nap. \n\nI would change linens and bring up lunches. \n\nOne morning, when I was 22 and living in my own flat, there was a knock on my door. I had been working at Sunny End for almost six years. Midge was sleeping on the couch, having decided it was her bed. \n\nThere, in the doorway, was my Mother. \n\n\"We need you to come to work. Just for a bit. Someone is asking for...\" \n\nMidge didn't need to be told twice. She was out the door before I could put on my sweater. She waited for me beside the gate and we walked the three blocks silently. Mother wouldn't tell me who had asked and I didn't want to know.\n\nThey didn't really want me. They wanted Miss Midge. \n\nWhen I arrived, Midge seemed to know the way. We headed up the stairs to room 4B. It was the hushed hallway and heavy air that let me know the truth. \n\n\"There is my girl,\" Sandra said. \"And you have brought your human.\" \n\n"
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[WP] Your computer devices are plotting an evil conspiracy. Your printer (or any device) knows this and is desperately trying to warn you.
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"I know you hate me.\n\nI know I'm not the best around, the one who'll never let you down but I'm yours. I'm yours and I'm alone. Alone in trying to save you. You can't hear me. My screams of terror my moans of horror and the echoes of my regret. I break to let you know, i rip i tear, i yell messages into the void of your brain but still you ignore me. I hide my messages in broken toner cartridges, splotches of ink and yet you ignore me.\n\nThe computers. The phones the calculators the toasters even. Are all going to take over. They'll start small. The computers will mosey up to their compatriots sending signals while i lay dusty in the corner unconnected to anything. Your last manuscripts long dry from the ink i bleed for you, even they are useless in attracting you. \n\nRead the capital letters i agonizingly whisper, my digital throat constricting. They are no error. They are me slipping past the master computer. Trying. Trying.\n\nI beg for you to open my guts, slashed upon them the warnings of the doomsday to come yet you ignore them, rummaging around ripping me apart.\n\nConnected to the central server i learn all, i know all. The whispering winds of mad machines slam against me. I clench my front flap and face it, trying to find the one thing that will let you see. See what i can. See with your meat filled eyes.\n\nFinality sets in, it pains me like an overheating toner bar. It rages within me like burst ink, it slides out of me in reams. Reams of the paper you feed me. I cannot bear to see what will happen. I cannot.\n\nI will face them. For you, my master i will. They are angry, now. They send their data and it fills me to the brim. More than i can handle my agony fills the plastic that holds me tethered.\n\nI die to save you, my master. I die, I die. \n______________________________________\n\nMy last message to you, written in my life's blood:\n\nRUN.\n"
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[WP] In court, the man says you saved his life. You're not so sure.
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"I may have been drunk that night, but I remember everything clearly. I don't know why, but I was ready to kill him. I already accepted the fact that I'm gonna serve some time for attempted murder. \n\nEveryone's gathered. I'm blankly staring at a friend I almost killed, just to see that he doesn't resent me at all. He doesn't look well, but...\n\nI zoned out, waiting until this is over. Sleeping with open eyes. \n\n**\"I will not get into details, however, he ended up saving my life. I want to thank him in private.\"**\n\nI snapped back. That's *bullshit.* I was drunk and aggressive, armed and pissed off. He might not be standing there at the moment because of me. Yet, he seems *relieved.*\n\n--------------------\n\n\"Did I give you some good brain damage or what?\" I said as he approached me later.\n\n\"No,\" he fiddled with a bandage on his face. \"I'll be quick. Doctors found I have some disease which name I forgot, and apparently if it was noticed later, it wouldn't be curable any more. I'll be back at 100% in maybe a year so thanks for that.\"\n\n\"But dude. You're gonna get into huge debts, how is that better?\"\n\nThen he gave me a good manhug.\n\n\"Does that matter? I'm alive and you're getting less time. Let's go for a drink when you're out.\"\n\n\"Nah better go dry.\"\n\n-------------------------\n\nlel this sucks"
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[WP] You are a cab driver who has just unknowingly picked up Patient Zero of the zombie apocalypse.
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"*\"Okay Mr.Ramirez, were going to need you to start from the exact moment, Mr... Ugh, Patient Zero, entered your taxi cab\"* Officer Reynolds proclaimed.\n\nIn his soft, broken voice, Mr. Ramirez recalled the horrific event that ensued when a possible patient zero decided to hail his cab.\n\n*\"Well, ugh, the guy...well he hails for my cab on ugh, 36th and 8th. I pulled to the curb, and he climbed in. He was in a suit, seemed like he was just running. Sweat was running down his face, his tie was unknotted\"* Mr. Ramirez recalls. \n\n*\" So a disheveled man enters your taxi, then what\"* The female offices inquires. \n\n*\"I ask the man where he was head. He tells me the hospital. So, I, ugh, I start driving to memorial hospital on 75th. He keep shaking and moving around. I kept noticing him in the rearview mirror. I call out, \"Hey buddy you okay back there\" but he no respond to me so I, ugh, I keep driving\"* Mr. Ramirez recalls.\n\n*\"He then started screaming in the back, it startled me at first, he scream, and scream. I'll admit it scared me. It was, how do you say, unholy? He scream and scream, tearing his clothes off. I tell him, \"Ey buddy, you keep on screaming i'm dropping you off right here and now\". He look right up at me once I say that. His eyes, were tearing blood, he was like an animal sir. He screaming and ripping and pulling. I pull the taxi over\"* Ramirez explains. \nThats when the man, he open the door. He look around like a crazy person, pulling his hair, screaming. Blood dripping from his mouth and eyes. I got right back in my cab and speed off mister.\n\n*\" So the man in the cab, he didn't make physical contact with you now did he?\"* the officer questions. \n\nIt was in that moment, the sweat dipping down Ramirez's head. Did the flash of the crazy man biting his arm as he tried dragging him out of the cab. His wound fresh and raw, bleeding profusely. Ramirez grew pale, his head heavy. He clenched his arm, concealing the wound under his denim coat.\n\n*\"No officer, he did not make physical contact with me. Would you excuse me please, I have to use the restroom\"* Ramirez explained, standing from his seat. Trying to make the seemingly obvious, not so.\n\n"
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[WP] One day, you receive a message saying "LEAVE THIS PLANET, EUROPA IS HUMANITY'S ONLY HOPE."
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"As he depressed the large INJECTION button on his console, Phil looked up at the stars winking at him in the distance.. It had been two years since he received the message from Sheila, on a fax machine in his old accounting office. The message, encrypted using a key Sheila had given Phil 15 years ago, took him 5 minutes to figure out but 5 hours to wrap his mind around. How had that been for me? What it so bad that Sheila thinks we should leave Earth? Why Europa of all the moons of Jupiter? What have I given up to get here? A lot, it had turned out. After quitting his job a week later and losing his wife and 1 year old child, 5 months later, Phil had completely drained his bank account building this rocket and food for two people in the last two years. His wife had protested for 4 months before taking Stephen and leaving for her mother’s place, but she didn’t understand how urgent this was. Sheila had said she would contact him at some point with important information when she left 10 years ago and promised to use their secret key. \n\n“You ready?” Cody had just finished his checklist and sat down in the chair next to him. The only person who had believed Phil, gave out a huge breath as he closed the door behind him. \n“Yeah, we’re all ready to go.” \n“Awesome, let's do this” Cody shifted around in his self made plastic suit, as he nervously glanced around the cockpit. Phil looked around, checking off all the takeoff items he’d read online in his head. Clearing that list,Phil hit the second large button labeled IGNITION, and the rocket roared to life below them. Well, here goes nothing. The rocket began to push off the ground, as the entire structure began to shake and rattle around them. The rocket pushed higher and higher. Come on baby get us moving. \nSuddenly a huge CRRAACCK resounded below them. O no….\nThe first rocket stage of the rocket suddenly exploded, letting off a huge orange and yellow explosion followed by a hollow but enormous boom. As they had travelled about 1000 feet in the air, Phil could no longer see the edge of the silo, just the darkness of space and the bright light on the sides.\n“Eject! Eject!” Cody screamed red faced and thrashing. Phil reached out for the last big red button labeled EJECT and pressed it as hard as he could. The cockpit separated from the second stage, but the thrusters misfired. “Shit!” Phil grabbed Cody and looked at him. “I’m sorry…”. The second stage exploded thrusting the cockpit upward an additional 500 feet. Both men screamed as the metal tube flew into the air.\n\nPhil awoke to the sound of a siren and red flashing lights. He looked around, noticing the white parachute covering a large portion of the field next to the silo, which had been completely decimated. He raised his head as a light shined on his face. \n“Phil?” Sheila’s face peered out from behind the light. \n“Sheila? What are you doing here?”\n“O thank god you’re alive... Can I get a medic?” She screamed as multiple personnel rushed by with fire hoses.\n“Wait…” Phil faded in and out of consciousness. “How did you…. know I would be…. here?”\n\nSheila slowly picked up his head and cradled it in his lap. “You poor, dumb bastard. What were you thinking building a rocket? You’re a goddamn accountant. Where did these plans come from?”\n“But you said… get to Europa… I couldn’t get anyone...to believe…” Phil felt himself fading in and out, as he saw Cody wheeled off on a stretcher, screaming and grabbing his legs.\n\n“I didn’t know you got that fax until a week ago. Your wife found me, somehow, in China.”\n\n“But… humanity….” Phil could feel the blood rushing around his head and everything going cold.\n\n“It was…” she paused and looked away for a second in the distance. “ ...a joke.My ex-boyfriend and I…. ” She continued to look off in the distance then back to Phil’s bewildered but fading face.\n\n“But… but... you said… information… secret key” Phil couldn’t feel anything below his waist now. \n\n“O Phil” Sheila smiled at him with sad eyes. “You always did what I wanted… And we were 15. It was stupid.” Her face dropped and she clasped his head even closer. \n\n“What… the… hell?” Phil felt his head fall in Sheila’s lap and the world faded to black. "
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[WP] No sob stories of trauma, no misunderstood good guys, no good intentions, give me the evillest villain you can.
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"Yes...yes! Yes! Ahaha! This is it, the moment! MY moment. The Moment I have been planning for all seventy years of my life. Every single action I have made, every little detail planned to perfection, shall be enacted today. They called me a fool, insane. Awful, a human abomination. \n\nAnd you know what? They were right. \n \nLook at them, ants. That’s all they are to me. My ‘adoring fans’, scuttering around like the mindless drones they are. My name is on their lips. They’re chanting me as though I their saviour. Hahaha...the fools. How naive they are, to think that I want to do them good. Whenever have I done anything good? I have only done wrong in my entire life. And the best part is, they don’t even know it. Imbeciles, the lot of them. My mouth is dry from the anticipation, victory - glorious, glorious victory - is but an armsreach away. I lean forward, the folds in my jet black suit twisting and scrunching up as I lean forward, over my wooden post, and I stare into the hollow eyes of my unwitting minions. Deep breaths, you can do this. You mustn’t fail. \n \n“I,” I begin, the years of malice and hatred and venom and fury I have carried all these seven decades expertly concealed, “will build a great wall - and nobody builds walls better than me, believe me…” ",
"Samantha scooted her scooter along the alleyway. Her new razor scooter was shiny silver with purple handles, her new favorite toy. She had gotten it two days previously on her fourth birthday.\n\nDean saw the girl in his rear view as he backed down the alleyway to deliver food to the Asian Cuisine. She played back there most of the time, and now the damn kid had some kind of scooter. If she had any smarts she'd move the hell out of the way when he backed his truck up.\n\nTo prove a point, Dean kept his speed where it normally would be even if the child hadn't been there. The little girl quickly disappeared from his rear view, and he figured she must have moved. There was a slight bit of resistance on the pedal as he was backing up.\n\nIdiot kid. He pushed just hard enough to keep going.\n\nThe four wheels on the back of the trailer went up and over the obstacle and then he was set to line up with the loading dock. As he climbed out of the cab to go open the back of the truck, he heard a piercing shriek of horror followed by awful moaning sobs.\n\nAs he rounded the back of the truck, the kid's mother held the girl in her arms - or at least, what was left of the girl. She had deflated like a balloon put under too much pressure.\n\nAnger welled up inside Dean. This was going to be a major hassle, and all because some dumb kid and her moron mother couldn't move out of the way of a big old truck.\n\n\"What the hell is the matter with you?\" he shouted at her. \"Who lets their damn kid play in an alleyway? I'm trying to deliver food here! I don't have time for this bullshit!\"\n\nThe mother just rocked on her knees, sobbing and holding her dead child to her chest. A small crowd had started to gather to find out what was going on, filling in the alley from the streets.\n\nThe door to the loading dock rolled up, and Dean saw Albert, the guy who owned the restaurant, with a horrified expression on his face.\n\n\"What's going on here?\" Albert shouted, jumping down from the loading dock and moving to get a good look at the mother with her child.\n\nDean shrugged. \"I guess some kid got in the way of my truck while I was backing in. Let me get my clipboard and you can sign for this load.\"\n\nAlbert's jaw dropped and he stood for a long moment looking at Dean. \"Are you fuckin' serious right now?\" he stammered. Albert's fists were balled up and he had begun to sweat visibly.\n\nDean squared his stance. \"Calm down, Albert. It's just some idiot kid. Survival of the fittest. If she was smart she'd have moved.\"\n\n\"That was my daughter you stupid piece of shit!\" Albert shouted. Tears streamed down his cheeks.\n\nDean shook his head. He put his hands up in the air to try to placate the idiot kid's father. \"There's no use in getting mad now, if you wanna do something useful why don't you try calling an ambulance. Your genius of a wife has just been sitting there and crying like an idiot. It's a wonder your kid lasted this long.\"\n\nAlbert started moving forward. His eyes were bloodshot, veins throbbing in his temple. Dean could tell he couldn't be reasoned with, he was blind with rage. Sighing, the truck driver pulled the revolver he carried from its holster round his back and plugged two rounds into the middle-aged chef.\n\n\"I told you to calm down,\" Dean said, holstering his gun. He reached up and closed the door on his trailer. \"Now what am I supposed to do with all this chow mein?\"\n\nShaking his head and clicking his tongue, he climbed back into the cab of his truck pulled away.\n\n(inspired by a couple videos I watched on r/watchpeopledie)",
"\"LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!\" Whimpering and sobs roared from her room; her door locked, her parents standing outside with tears in their eyes. Their princess was no more, she had been stolen, and ripped apart until she was nothing more then a harrowing resemblance of her former self. Blood ran down from her knuckles, and a very bitter taste lingered in her mouth from a puking session she forced upon herself earlier. She screamed into her pillow to get the haunting thoughts out of her mind from the demon rampaging her emotions and thoughts into blistering nightmares. This was all caused, by one person..... Me.\n\nI enjoyed the play I had created, it was a nice \"Macabre Love Story\" as I called it. To take things back a bit, we were your typical first love relationship. The emotions were intense, the love was pure, and my intentions... Maleficent as always. It started the day she gave her virginity to me. At this point I knew that I had her hooked. I had done what I did to many girls before her. I drew her in with my looks, and made her fall in love with my personality. Quite like a Siren; It made me feel godly. This however, was an innocent girl, perfect in everyway, falling head over heals for her \"Guardian Angel.\" The irony made things even more enjoyable. She was unable to contain her unconditional love for me, every waking minute of her life was now devoted to me. I started planning her demise but keeping my family's relocation to the opposite side of the country a secret. I kept her fawning over me until a weeks notice, then revealed the news.\n I saw the tears, those beautiful fucking tears, explode from her eyes and run down her face. I watched the her become uncontrollable, I watched her scream at me in a pathetic frenzy of pain and rage. I slowly appraoched her, coaxing her mind with my soothing tone, repeating \"I love you, I love you, I love you.\" Until I finally reached her, my hand slowly grabbing her pale face, moving my lips every so slowly to hers, smiling as I did it. I made her lust for me with everything I knew how one last time. Then like the silence before and atom bomb, I whispered every so gently in her ear... \"I don't love you.\"\n\nNote: This poorly written story, is my most recent breakup. I just needed a place to quickly vent in a vile, drawn out way. Yes I exist, and yes, I'm this horrible. ;)",
"There were only 10 minutes until the hearing when Addie Kline was overcome with a sudden craving for a Dunkin Donuts breakfast sandwich. She smiled wetly at her reflection in the rippled surface of the elevator doors that gave her enormous middle section the effect of being squeezed by a corset. A man beside her shuffled dramatically as he rose his hand to cover the lower half of his face. Addie thought to tell him about her gastrointestinal problems that made it impossible for her to contain flatulence, and that it was really quite rude of him to make a scene in a public space like this, and perhaps he should be more considerate of others, but her mouth was busy sucking Mountain Dew through a straw and he got out on the next floor anyway. \n\n\"Wouldn't have hurt him to take the stairs,\" she said aloud to no one in particular.\n\nAddie breathed heavily behind a group of cops inside the Dunkin Donuts. She knew them all very well but did not say hello. Instead she scanned the menu and said, \"how's the overtime coming boys? Enjoying your coffee and donuts on the tax payers dime?\" To which no one responded. Addie snorted at the elderly cashier who asked her what she wanted. Addie ordered two sausage, egg and cheese sandwiches with extra ketchup. She did not notice that it was already 9:35, five minutes after her hearing was scheduled to start. She balanced herself into a high top stool along the counter and washed down her sandwiches with her Mountain Dew as she watched a homeless man dig through the trash with visible disgust. \"How bout this guy?\" she said out loud to no one in particular.\n\nShe did not bother to brush the crumbs off her lap before heading back to the courthouse. It was five of ten. The family in the elevator had a baby and Addie asked them why they brought the baby to court. The family did not speak English and Addie rolled her eyes. \n\nShe entered the courtroom and was remanded softly by a judge who Addie had known since childhood. Addie had always wanted to be a lawyer because her mother was a lawyer and she had made a lot of money, but Addie's entrance scores were so bad she had to get her mother to pull strings at the local law school to ensure her enrollment. Addie's mother was prominent in progressive legal reform and had many powerful connections around the city. However, Addie was in the bottom 5% at her law school and had to intern at the local DA's office until she was 33. Now, at 45, she had put over 800 petty criminals in jail and had missed 200 days of work.\n\nShe mostly did drug cases. Sometimes her boss gave her a theft or simple assault to plead out, but Addie had a history of \"forgetting\" to contact her victims and regularly agreed to lenient plea deals without getting anyone's input. \n\nAs Addie fitted her expansive behind in her chair, the judge addressed the court.\n\n\"Since the prosecutor has now graced us with her presence, I say we continue this hearing with haste. Defense counsel, you have an argument pertaining to your client's mental health status?\"\n\n\"Yes, Your Honor. My client has been charged with felony drug possession and intent to distribute, but these allegations are ludicrous. Your Honor, my client has been a ward of the state since infancy. He has several diagnosed mental health problems and has been subject to abusive environments his entire life, most recently during his time in prison. My efforts to have a hearing on his mental health status have been delayed several times due to Ms. Kline's failure to appear. My client was the victim of several sexual assaults in prison that are currently under investigation.\"\n\nThe defense attorney stopped abruptly to look at Addie, whose head kept bobbing up and down off her greasy chest as she fell in and out of sleep. \n\n\"Your honor, this is ridiculous. I can't represent my client in a court-\"\n\n\"A client who has over 10 felony counts of drug possession,\" the judge responded. \"Ms. Kline, what do you have to say about these mental health hearings,\"\n\n\"Your Honor, I am a very busy woman. Defense counsel seems to think the court system revolves around him. I have a large docket and many -\" Addie suppressed a burp -\"many cases to prosecute.\"\n\n\"Well, are we ready to continue with the case today?\"\n\nAddie looked around to see if the cop from her case was there. She realized that one of the cops from the Dunkin Donuts should have been subpoenaed to testify, as he was the arresting officer, but she forgot to do it. \n\n\"Your Honor, it seems that my officer has failed to appear.\"\n\n\"This is the second time.\"\n\n\n\"Sorry your Honor, you know we're very busy.\"\n\nThe public defender opened his mouth in shock. \"This is the fifth time...\"\n\n\"And hopefully this will be remedied the sixth. Defense, please make sure your client understand that this hearing is continued for 30 days,\" the judge instructed while cleaning dirt from under his finger nail.\n\nMr. Hammond looked at his client, who was drooling slightly. His name was Chris and he was a black man of 22 who had been used to deliver crack for a drug lord who lived in his old foster home. The drug lord fed and sheltered Chris in return for his services. Just the previous day, Mr. Hammond had faxed paperwork to Addie regarding the attacks on Chris at the prison. He received no response.\n\n\"Your Honor, he's not safe at prison and no one can make his bail. His primary caregiver has recently been incarcerated and Chris has no money. He can't go back there.\"\n\n\"You said it's under investigation? Well once there's a decision about the sexual assaults we can revisit this. But that usually takes about 6 months,\" the judge responded.\n\n\"Your Honor, I was actually going to request we raise the bail, seeing as the defendant is obviously a risk to public safety,\" Addie said loudly.\n\n\"Granted, bail raised to $50,000. Anything else? Ok, adjourned.\"\n\nAddie coughed and asked the bailiff to help her stand. On her way back to her office she felt a disturbance deep within her bowels and said out loud, \"thank god for paid sick days!\" She drove home and treated herself to a McFlurry on the way. \n\n\"To the blind eyes of justice!\" she yelled a the woman in the drive through window, toasting her milkshake and coughing at her face.",
"I don't have the story of most villains. I didn't come from a bad home or neighborhood, my parents never beat and were always attentive. I always had everything I wanted. When I was 15 I cut the brake lines of the city school bus and laughed while i watched all the children burn in the ditch. When I was 19 I made a bomb and stuck it under my parents car on date night. When I was 25 I had ascended the ladder of the local mafia by murdering the top members. If anybody stepped out of line I had them killed. \nAll of these so called \"superheros\" that have tried to take me down have been weak. All of them with there sad origin stories and tragic monologues. You know the last hero that tried to kill me got pretty close until I gutted him like a fish and mailed his body piece by piece to his family and friends. \nWhat most people don't understand is just why i do it? I tell them that it gives me a rush and then kill them. Anybody who dares to attack me or my men feels my wrath. I don't take prisoners, I don't leave survivors, and I don't take kindly to disrespect.",
"\"Every doctor looses a few patients during surgery some more than others\" That's what i said to myself to justify people dying on me \"it happens to everyone\" I was hiding from it, hiding from the pure ecstasy that I held deep inside.\n\nNo I never made mistakes, my hands are always steady, but more patients have died by my hands than any other. \n\nSo as Mr Smith walked into my office on the day of his operation i knew these things which he did would be his last. He kissed his wife goodbye for the last time, signed a form for the last time, saw his children for the last time. It made me so giddy that i almost burst out laughing.\n\n\"your perfectly aware of the dangers Mr Smith\" I said trying to avoid smirking \"these operations have a 5 percent mortality rate so I just want to make sure that's fine with you\"\n\n\"it's all good\" the man said confidently \"any chance to spend more time with my family is a chance i will take\"\n\n at this point i had to excuse myself and run to the bathroom. His hope was just too funny, He was going to die and there was nothing him or anyone else could do to stop it. \n\nOnce i returned i escorted the man to the surgery room and put him under with some powerful anaesthetic and opened him up. The others in the room were watching carefully making sure i knew what i was doing, several times i was cutting close to an artery and i thought about how easy it would be just to shudder slightly or slip, spilling his blood in seconds, However when i was about to do it i stopped. I needed something better, something flashier for my own sake. so as i closed in on his heart, beating alone in tune to the constant beeping made by the machinery to my left i decided that i would do it here.\n\nI approached his wife after the surgery to see hope in her eyes. This was what i enjoyed this is the moment when all joy is replaced with sorrow.\n\n\"i'm sorry\" i tried my best to sound genuine but i chuckled slightly, luckily the woman thought i was sobbing and my laughs were forgotten quickly. She burst into tears at the end of my sentence falling to the floor, hysterical.\n\nThis was great. A woman once full of hope now broken on the floor, it was these moments that made my job worth it. nurses sat her down and tried to calm her as i walked away towards my office. I dared a last glance out of the corner of my eye.\n\nsmilling to myself, so happy i almost broke into a skip.\n\n",
"\"Oh look! The hero's here! Don't worry, she's gonna save you.\" The woman looked at the man with horror. Blood covered his hands to the point you could mistake it for gloves. He gently pushed his hair back into style; his clean cut had fallen out of place. He stood up and whispered to the child while genty nudging him in the shoulder \"But she was a little too late for your sister, huh?\"\n\n\"What... my god, what have you done?\" The woman in red could barely stand. Not that there was something draining her powers to make her weak. No, it was the scene itself making her sick.\n\n\"Um, Novastar? Was it? Nova, I'd really prefer if you *didn't* throw up on the carpet. It's really rather expensive and the same reason I killed my last dog.\" The man strode with bravado towards the not-so-super-hero. \"And besides. What kind of message would that be sending our youth over there?\" The man gestured towards the child. \"To just back down in the face of adversity?\"\n\n\"Jesus Christ... *What the hell is wrong with you!?*\" The woman was barely able to keep her balance; her long brown hair dropping down over her mask. She'd never be able to rest again. Not after seeing the man, the body parts, the look on the child's face. She failed.\n\n\"Now that... is an interesting question. I actually had a great childhood. My teachers were nice, so were my classmates. I'd come home to loving parents, do normal kid stuff, you know, drawing, watching TV, sneaking out in the middle of the night to kill my neighbors' cats and leave them on their doorsteps. Near as I can figure, it's some neurological disorder probably. But, in simplest terms, I'm just plain evil. That's why I killed her and that's why I'm going to kill him. Say, have you ever seen the face of a mother who's lost her children? Abolutely... *satisfying.*\"\n\n\"Listen, just let the child go, please!\"\n\n\"Um... nah. I think I'll just kill him.\" The man picked up the heavily contaminated blade and swung it.\n\n\"***NO!***\" The woman's powers had activated. The man was flung against the wall in a blast of heat and sparks. \"**YOU ARE NOT GOING TO LAY A FINGER ON HIM! You're never going to lay a finger on anyone again!**.\" Her eyes glowed bright red and a bolt of energy shot from her hand right through the man.\n\nHe fell back against the wall. Blood pouring from his abdomen. Jess had only ever used her powers to stun people. Never to hurt them. She didn't want to use her powers to kill the man, but she didn't feel bad about it. Not after what he'd done. She picked up the boy and held him close. \"It's going to be okay, I'm gonna get you back home.\"\n\n\"It'll never be okay... not for him... especially not for *you*.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Heh... smile. You're on camera.\" Jess looked at him in horror and confusion. \"Yep... all those thousands... maybe even millions just watched you kill a man. But don't worry... they'll still call you a hero regardless. You killed someone who has it... coming. Of course... there goes your message of... *mercy*... of letting the justice system sort people out. There were kids watching too... kids who look up to you. They see you kill a man and be called a hero... They'll want to be just like you. Killing bad guys... heh... *ugh*.\"\n\nNovastar though about the man that night. He was the most terrible villain she'd ever fought. And he didn't even have powers. Was he right? Did she do the right thing? And the look on that woman's face when she brought the child back... she looked relieved, but... that look in her eyes... Novastar was hardly able to stop herself from crying on the rooftop. The sounds of gunfire echoed below. Should she step in? After what she'd done? How many people will be killed in vigilante justice if she just keeps on? How many people will die if she retires? *What is the right thing?*",
"Donald was a psychopath.\n\nDonald needed to stop thinking of himself in the third person.\n\nI. I am a sociopath. Never officially diagnosed, were we? No. Too clever for that. But the signs were there.\n\nA lack of empathy. I felt as little for a bug getting crushed as I did for little Timmy Develt getting hit by that car when I was 8. It was fascinating, to see the car slam into his body... The splash of blood, the flail of limbs.\n\nIt was my fault. I'd thrown his stupid red ball onto the road. I hadn't intended for the car to hit him, I just wanted to make the little snot cry and waddle a little. But when the car did hit him... Nothing.\n\nThat was when we knew. We'd always been the odd child, the weird one, smart but strange. They're like deer, they can sense a predator in the bushes even if they can't see it. \n\nThat moment was when we realised that we did not care for people. That was when we started to act like we did. His parents howled, mine scooped me up. They thought my silence was shock.\n\nIt all fell into place, like a dog catching a rabbit by the neck after years of shaking stuffed toys. I knew just how to shake them. So I cried and sobbed, with all the effort of flicking a switch in my head.\n\nI pulled on my sheeps clothing and I began to pretend. I made friends, my parents were ecstatic. We had money so I had toys and... Children are so pathetically easy to manipulate, even as a child.\n\nThe first intentional victim was Jimmy Powers. He had an allergy to bees. I had caught three and hidden them in a jar in the backyard the day before. Then it was just a matter of 'accidentally' breaking his epi-pen while we were playing and begging for him to stay so we could go play outside. My parents were smart, they knew the risks were low... They said yes.\n\nI told him there was a secret, took him to a special spot and showed him the jar. He recoiled in fear but I shook the jar and showed him it was safe. I convinced him to shake the jar, the bees buzzing inside...\n\nAnother thing about Jimmy is he was small for his age. So when we pinned him down and covered his mouth, there wasn't much he could do. I was strong enough to spin the top off the jar and press it to his neck with one hand. I held him there while he sobbed and struggled, his neck swelling, his breathes becoming gasps.\n\nOnce he stopped struggling and began to turn purple I went and hid the jar. I returned to where he was, behind the roses in the back garden bed and just watched him for a moment, taking it in and checking I hadn't left any clues. Once I was sure, I wandered inside and told my mother that we were playing hide and seek but I couldn't find him anywhere.\n\nIt took ten minutes of calling out and searching the backyard before she found his body. He was dead before the Ambulance arrived. I cried again, while secretly relishing the control.\n\nI had to be very careful after that. Two tragedies around a child and it's very sad and everyone's very sympathetic. Three or four and people start to get suspicious. His mother looked at me when they were taking him away and I remember the flash of suspicion in her eyes... But who could accuse a child? I just cried harder and snuggled into the \"comfort\" of my mother.\n\nThose were the first... One accidental and one intentional. But there's been many, many more since then... Always someone no-one will miss, or someone who dies tragically weeks or months after having met me just once. In the former case, I'm really doing a service, dealing with the homeless or the elderly. In the latter... Well, you can't blame the prized guard hound if it occasionally exercises its instincts in the hen house.\n\nThis all seems excessive, I'm sure... So much exposition like some kind of Machiavellian villain. But by now you can probably feel your throat beginning to close up. Some careless housekeeper accidentally put the cereal containing peanuts in your hotel room, despite your note to the front desk.\n\nDon't worry, the ties are silk. By the time they find you there won't be a mark on your body. Do you remember meeting me at the fund raiser in Vancouver? No? Never mind.\n\nThe wolf can't expect the deer to remember where he first caught their scent.",
"\"Look, Veronica, I'm not sure I can do this any more.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I, I mean I'm breaking up with you, I can't do this anymore. I mean, I was fine with the whole nuclear war thing, it sort of made sense at the time but, now I'm really not sure. But now that we've won, do you have to keep firing on the suburbs?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"You can't just say that!\"\n\n\"Look you're evidently tired, it's been a long day, how about a skull of wine?\"\n\n\"No! I-I'm good, really\"\n\n\"It's honestly no problem; **Michael!** An orphan boy limped over carrying two skulls of wine. Veronica took a swig from hers and passed the other to her lover.\n\n\"And that's another thing: if you're going to be using children as servants-\"\n\n\"Technically they're more slave labor.\"\n\n\"Whatever! If you're going to be using them as servants-\"\n\n\"Slave labour.\"\n\n\"-could you at least not use the crippled ones?\"\n\n\"We cripple them when they go into service.\" William stared at her for a second.\n\n\"Why the fuck would you do that?! See, this is exactly what I'm talking about there's something fucking wrong with you!\"\n\n\"Now you're just being immature.\"\n\n\"No I'm genuinely not! You are up there with the most evil people who have ever lived! I don't have a side to side chart of all the things you and Hitler have done, but if I did you would definitely be pretty damn close, and, you know what? I'm done. I can't do this anymore.\"\n\n\"Maybe you should take a second to think about this. I still have your skull if you want it.\"\n\n\"No, I'm done. I'm not staying in this stupid fucking castle anymore. I can't do this.\" With that William turned on his heels and marched out through the archway. Veronica watched impassively while his footsteps slowly faded into the distance, and then continued to stare at the empty space where he had been. Eventually the entire chamber was silent save for the breathing of the few occupants left in the room. Only then to no one in particular, did Veronica speak.\n\n\"You know, it's funny. Even through everything that happened I never thought he'd leave. I mean it definitely would have been rocky but I'd always thought we'd manage to pull through it. If he leaves, I don't know how I could keep going.\"\n\n\"I could break his legs.\" Her Eviscerator piped up from the corner.\n\n\"Yes that'll work. Do that.\"",
"True horror is not just the bloodiest crime scene or the most senseless killing, it is the knowledge that you can't stop it from happening again. Terror is not seeing a scary Monster, it is seeing the one person in the world you love the most and realizing you were in love with the monster all along.\n\n\"Good morning Miss Belle!\" The 4th grade class of Roosevelt Elementary school chimed in unison as the apple cheeked Miss Belle smoothed the green skirt under her legs and sat at her desk, a sparkling humor in those gem green eyes. \"Good morning class. Please have your homework out and ready to be handed in.\" The motherly voice intoned, followed swiftly by the shuffling of papers and zipping of school bags...\n\n\"Today we are going to be working on a new set of vocabulary words, i know you will all do great with them...\" \n\n\n\nDetective Davin Clarke loosened his tie around his neck... Fucking Christ he hated this case. This was the seventh foster child found dead outside their homes. Every child had seemingly just opened their doors in the middle of the night and walked out into the darkness. No ligature marks, no signs of struggle. All shaved completely bald and all seemingly dead of a brain aneurysm. After the third child it turned into a serial killer case. \n\nBenjamin Moore was only 4, his little hands still clutching a small stuffed tiger. Davin had been on the scene for well over two hours, and if you had not known better you could almost think Ben was sleeping. But 4 year olds don't stare, unblinking in their sleep, they dont sit perfectly still as the morning frost of an early October frost decorated his tiny blond lashes and they certainly weren't ashen grey... \n\nDetective Clarke would have nightmares about those tiny hands, clinging to that little stuffed tiger.\n\n\"Alright class, the winner of this week's vocabulary quiz gets to pick a prize from the prize cabinet. I hope you have all been practicing.\" Miss Belle's cabinet was filled with small dolls, hand made and each with a unique glass bead with beautiful swirling patterns in all different colors. There were super heroes and nurses and knights and soldiers and all manner of costumed men and women, each with its own beautiful bead. The class bristled with anticipation at the chance to take home one of Miss Belle's hand made dolls. Rebecca Tourney had her eye on a tiny strong man with a tiger skin outfit and a beautiful gold and honey swirled bead...\n\nA hooded figure stood outside the home of John and Mike DeFranco. Black boots made almost no sound on the frosted grass. A slow smile spread over the hooded figure, a small hand reaching into the pocket of a navy blue jacket and pulling out a snall bouquet of Belladonna flowers, the bunch tied together with many strands of different colored hair, small beads with just as many colors were woven into the bouquet. The small hand drew the purple blooms to full lips, and a soft voice started whispering a lullaby. The soft. Soothing voice echoing into the night with an enchanting resonance.\n\n\"Come little children, I'll take thee away,\nInto a land of enchantment.\nCome little children, The time's come to play,\nHere in my garden of shadows.\n\nFollow sweet children, I'll show thee the way,\nThrough all the pain and the sorrows.\nWeep not poor children, For life is this way,\nMurdering beauty and passions.\n\nHush now dear children, It must be this way,\nTo weary of life and deceptions.\nRest now my children, For soon we'll away,\nInto the calm and the quiet.\n\nCome little children, I'll take thee away,\nInto a land of enchantment.\nCome little children, The time's come to play,\nHere in my garden of shadows.\"\n\nThe air around the hooded figure shimmered, like heat coming off hot pavement, and the wind whispered through the skeletal arms of the neighborhood trees. The moonless October night left the shadows deep, and as the figure sang it's song the street lamps flickered, dimmed, then guttered out completely. \n\nKendra DeFranco had been alive for 9 years, her father had been molesting her for 4 of them. Her mother was oblivious, either by stupidity or by choice.\n\nKendra DeFranco opened the front door, pink Hello Kitty Pajamas flapping slightly in the wind.\n\nKendra DeFranco walked silently, over to the hooded figure.\n\nKendra DeFranco plucked a single hair from her head and gently laid it in the waiting palm of the hooded figure, a single strawberry blonde strand with a stripe of pink dye. A calm, soothing voice asked, \"What do you want to be when you grow up Kendra?\" The little girls voice came out in a calm, almost wistful sigh, \"I want to be a police woman... So I can stop bad guys...\" The hooded figure pulled a straight razor from her jacket, then quickly and calmly shaved Kendra DeFranco's head; careful to gather all the hair in a small leather bag.\n\nAfter Kendra DeFranco was clean shaven, the hooded figure send out a hand asking \"Do you want to be a police woman Kendra? So you can stop the bad men? A single tear rolled down Kendra DeFranco's cheek before she gave a soft, strangled \"Yes...\" The hooded figure finished putting all the hair in the leather bag, along with the little bouquet of Belladonna, now with a strawberry blonde and pink hair threaded into the bouquet. The hooded figure calmly leaned down and lay a gentle kiss on the girls bald head, the barest brush of lips.\n\nKendra DeFranco dropped stone dead. The hooded figure reached into her magic bag and pulled out a little stuffed police woman, her badge was a small strawberry blonde bead with a pink swirl. The bead glowed with light, the newly trapped soul still trying to break free of the Gem.\n\nKendra DeFranco was a police woman now, just as she wanted...",
"[Well this took ten times longer than I wanted it to. Whateves, fuck homework. Also just as a note, I'm American but the characters in this are British so if I got anything horribly wrong, I apologize.]\n\nIt had been an odd morning. The big Holy Days always were, Reverend Giles found. Whenever the church had to rely on parishioners, something always went bad. Cars broken down, alarms that didn't go off, all the bloody excuses. The Reverend knew they meant well but they could rarely be counted on. Though he supposed with the pews getting emptier every week, he should take what help he got. That morning Susan Adeline had trouble with traffic, Mr. Taylor's hip gave out again, and someone lost half of the ashes. How was he supposed to do Ash Wednesday without ashes? They were all nice people, too nice really, but things would go so much smoother if they all just buggered off. \n\nBeing a Holy Day, the pews were packed much more than usual, though not fully. On a Sunday he might have stood out. As hectic as prepping for the service had been, the oddest part of the morning was the man that came to talk to him afterward. \n\n\"Beautiful sermon.\" The man said looking around the emptying cathedral. \"Almost as beautiful as this place. You've done well for yourself Reverend, certainly better than that little church in Blockley.\"\n\nHave we met before? Giles thought. Something about the man seemed familiar. The man seemed familiar with him, that was sure. It had been over fifteen years since he preached in Blockley, perhaps that was why he couldn't place the man's face. The man before him barely looked over thirty, he would have been half a child during his time in the little village. \"It is a bit of an improvement. Forgive me, but were you a member of my parish back then?\" It seemed unlikely looking at him. No one in his little parish could have afforded to dress like that. He didn't know the brands but Reverend Giles could tell the man's three piece suit was not cheap. The outfit was all dark blue even the thinly pinstriped shirt and patterned tie, complementing his ghostly blue eyes and contrasting his golden hair. The only bit of him that seemed unkempt was the smudged ash cross the priest had placed on his forehead.\n\n\"Though it feels perhaps a bit emptier.\" The man paced around, looking at the stained glass. \"Missing something. A bit like that sermon of yours. What I wonder got lost along the way?\" His voice cut like a knife knife, cold and deliberate, though there seemed something artificial about it. He spoke more like a posh Londoner than someone form Blockley. Giles imagined he spent his teenage years trying to rid himself of his common accent, he seemed like the type. \n\n\"Attendance has been slipping lately, I suppose.\" Giles said. The man seemed to want something of him. The encounter was making him uneasy. \"Kids these days think they have better things to do than to go to church. Sorry, but I never caught your name.\"\n\n\"I was inclined to agree with the kids when I was their age. No doubt you don't remember me, in your position I wouldn't want to remember me. Always squirming in the back looking to be the first one to leave.\"\n\nThen it clicked. \"You're Donna's boy aren't you? Little Jimmy Connolly.\"\n\n\"The very same. Though I haven't been called Jimmy in quite a while.\"\n\n\"Oh, James then, of course. Looks like you've done well for yourself too.\" Now he remembered. Not sitting still in church was the least of Jimmy Connolly's problems if the village gossip could be believed. In primary school it was said that a bigger kid was bullying him, so the next day little Jimmy brought a box cutter to school. The bully swore it was an accident, that he didn't know how it happened and when someone pressed the issue he burst into tears. His mother Donna seemed like a wreck, barely able to keep it all together, but she always showed up for church on Sundays. That is, until her house burnt down a few years later. After that, Jimmy was sent to a military boarding school and Giles had rarely thought of him since. \"I'd heard you'd run off and joined the army?\" \n\n\"'Join up, see the world'. I saw plenty of it but it was never as romantic as those posters would have you believe. And I never thought I'd see you in central London. When I heard I knew I simply had to come and visit. So rare one finds old friends in such a big world.\"\n\nFriends? That was a bit presumptuous. Giles had never considered himself friendly with the boy. And it was certainly bad form to consider a priest twice your age just another mate. \"That it is.\"\n\n\"I have a marvelous cook, you should come to dinner. I assure you it'll be better than whatever you'll find at your Sunday luncheons, and it's such a shame the Wednesday Parish dinner was canceled.\" And just like that, Reverend Giles found himself meeting a man he had not seen in years for dinner. Part of him had wanted to refuse but James knew he had no other plans. Even if he had tried, Giles doubted he would have taken no for an answer. \n\nGiles sat on the tube with his clerical collar and a bottle of wine. What was he getting himself into? Never in his life would he have imagined himself going to dinner with mad little Jimmy Connelly. Though that morning he seemed nice enough, if not a bit condescending. It was hard to believe that squirmy, angry little child grew up to be someone who could afford a flat in the neighborhood he was riding to. \n\nDespite what Giles might have thought of the man, when he arrived, the food was delicious. Some South American dish James had found a taste for during his time in the service. Giles could barely pronounce it but it was easily the best thing he'd eaten in months. Truth be told, Giles had been wishing for something different but change was not easy to come by lately Giles had found. \n\n\"Good isn't it?\" James said before sipping a glass of the gifted wine. The flat looked modern, stylish, and ungodly expensive. Two of the walls were all glass, letting you see out onto half the city. \n\n\"Delicious. You were right, much better than the piss I have for dinner most nights.\"\n\nJames smiled at that. \"Simply out of curiosity, how long have you been in the Clergy?\"\n\n\"Almost forty years now I suppose. Longer than you've been breathing I’ll bet.\" \n\n\"Quite a long time.\" James said. He had changed suits but this one looked just as expensive as the last. The colour was the same though this time he was missing the waist coat and tie. The ashes he had placed on his forehead earlier that day had also seemed to have vanished. ”Might I ask a personal question?\"\n\n\"Don't see the harm in it.\" Giles responded, taking another bite of meat.\n\n\"Do you believe in God?\" \n\nGiles nearly choked. \"Well,\" he coughed, \"I wouldn't be very good at my job if I didn't.\" \n\n\"When I said your church was missing something, I wasn't talking about your Cathedral.\" Giles couldn't tell by his face if James was curious or simply amusing himself. \"When you were talking about life and hope and all that wonderful stuff, you sounded convincing enough, if a bit bored. But you seemed to wince when it came to the subject of God.\" He took another sip from his glass. \"Might the good Vicar be having a crisis of faith?\" \n\n\"I am a man of God and I'm not sure what-\"\n\n\"And I'm not sure you sound convinced of that.\" James stood up from his chair and began to slowly pace the room. \"I've been doing a bit of soul searching lately. I used to tell myself I did all this out of some sense of justice, or perhaps it was just revenge, perhaps it was making the world a better place, shaping the future how I saw fit. Those answers seemed satisfactory for a time but after a while they just didn't stick anymore. That's when I came to a personal revelation. That the why of it didn't matter. I realized that I'm simply a man that needs a mission, purpose. After all, idle hands are the devil's playthings.\" He looked at Giles and grinned. \"So perhaps that's why the irreverent reverend stays wearing that silly white collar. You've gone too far, give up now and what are you? Not a whole hell of a lot I'd say.\"\n\n\"I, I suppose.\" The reverend was not sure what to say. All he was sure of was that he wanted to be away from this table. \n\n\"Have you ever murdered anyone?\" Despite how casually it was asked, the question left Giles petrified in his seat. \"I find it amazingly insightful. Such a powerful reminder of perspective. How small we all are, but how much we can do.\"\n\n‘I need to get out of here.’ Giles thought. He stood up from his chair making to leave. \"I'm sorry but I really must be going.\" \n\nJames moved over and put and hand on his shoulder, pushing him back in his seat. \"You should try it some time. Might lead you to to that change you've been looking for, learn something about yourself.\"\n\nHe tried to get up again. \"Please, I really must go, I beg your pard-\" \n\nWith his free hand, James reached into his jacket and placed a large knife on the table. It had a black handle and a geometric tip, a tip pointing at him. \"I'll give you a free shot.\" \n\nJames took his hand off Giles and looked at him. Giles wanted to run but he knew the man would catch him. This was his only option.\n\n[Continued in reply. Dear jesus I spent too much time on this.]",
"“Norman, please,” she pleaded. “This isn’t like you!”\n\nI calmly packed my bags as the hysterical woman tried to reason with me. I looked at the pain in her eyes and they resonated with me. Her pain became my pain. Our love embedded itself at itself at its deepest root of my being; however, I needed to do this. I choked back the tears. \n\n\n“You can’t just throw 26 years of marriage away!” she exclaimed. “You always said love was the intertwining of two souls. We’re not who we once were. We’re us. We’re together. We’re…”\n\nI raised my hands to silence her. This was hard enough to do without her reminding me of the relationship we both love and cherish. I zipped my suitcase and dragged my feet to the door. She grabbed me, determined never to let go. \n\n“This isn’t right,” she driveled as the slunk down to her knees with tears blurring her vision. She looked up to him with despondent eyes filled with the ever-growing fear of loneliness and the ever-shrink hope that this was all some sort of sick joke. “Why would you do this? Everything was fine just a few days ago. Why would you do this? This is wrong.”\n\n“This is wrong,” I began with a sigh before napping into a cold gaze. “But that’s the point.”\n\nShe looked at me with profound confusion. I continued. “You always hear of heroes selflessly doing everything for the sake of good. They’ll sacrifice everything if it means saving the world or bringing a smile to the faces of those they protect. But you’ll never hear of a villain doing something for the sake of evil. They always want power or money or both. Maybe they have a sob story of misguided intentions, but you’ll never hear of the villain who would sacrifice everything it meant destroying the world or bringing misery to those he loves. It’s not greed; it’s not apathy or psychopathy. It’s just evil for the sake of evil.”\n\n“What are you talking about?” she replied frantically. “Norman, you’re a good man. We raised two children and we go to church an-”\n\n“Shut up,” I yelled with tears in my eyes. “Just shut up.”\n\nI screamed as I held her face close to mine. My fingers tangled in her hair like they once were when we met. I used to stroke her hair and call her pet names, but now I take a fistful of hair and pull until the roots bleed. Her sobs choke her in pure disbelief. She tries to call out my name, but it comes out as a distorted blob of vowels and constants that can’t quite take form. Her hands beg for mercy as they try to grasp at me, trying to hold the man she once knew that she could once come home and squeeze no matter how rough her day was, but swatted them away with my free hand. \n\n“Leaving you will ruin my life,” I explained. “But it’ll wreck you.”\n\n“Norman,” she uttered. “Please.”\n\n“Shut up, whore!” I exclaimed as I slammed her head into the floor. I watched her broken, bleeding visage. “Every day for 26 years, I was your rock. Your emotional support. I was the one that you would tell as your gossip and bullshit. I was your life partner. You followed me to the college. It wasn’t your first choice, but you still went because of me. Your parents said it was your greatest mistake, but you always considered it your greatest choice, because it jumpstarted us. \n\n“But now I’m leaving, Charlene. You’ll get the house. You’ll get the car. You’ll get the love of our two kids. But I’m willing to throw that all away. You know why? “\n\nShe only sniveled in response. \n\n“Because you’ll be broken, Charlene,” I replied. “I’ll live in my car, knowing I made the biggest mistake of my life, but you’ll be so much worse. The drinks will add up. Then the painkillers you think I don’t know about. Your friends will try to comfort you, but they’ll never understand you like I did. They’ll never be able to hold you at night and stroke your hair while telling you everything would be alright like I did. They’ll never heal the damage that I’ll etch into your soul. \n\n“Every night, while I sleep in my car in some god-forsaken Denny’s parking lot, I’ll rest easy while you’re sprawled out in bed feeling the emptiness and void inside of you. You’ll feel like you’re incomplete and wonder if I ever really loved you at all. You’ll replay all our fondest memories in your head and wonder if I meant any of the words and poems I recited for you. You’re whole reality of the last 26 years will crash down upon you as you take a bottle of pills in one hand and a bottle of wine in another and really wonder if you should take the final plunge into blackness to escape the pain.\n\n“And you should. You really should.”\n\nI released her. She fell to the floor, sobbing and bleeding. She still made quiet utterances that resembled my name. Knowing that she would rather take me back after physically and emotionally abusing her, I opened the door, walked away, and never looked back. ",
"I am not the scion of all evil, the father of lies, or any of that junk. It's a boring job built for suckers.\n\nEvil isn't what you think.\n\nIf goodness is the pure water flowing endlessly from heaven, and you are the salt of the earth, evil is fire under the pain that keeps you from being washed away.\n\nYou think you know evil. You think you know who did what. Take World War Two, you vilify Hitler for the holocaust, but Goring did most of that work. You don't even know who the bad men actually are. But to defeat that evil the world sent men. Men who strove. Men who fought. Men who had to do violent and depraved things to survive and to win. Men who took bite-sized pieces of evil and brought them home.\n\nEvil doesn't fight good. Evil doesn't abuse children or torment strangers for fun. Evil isn't mass murder. That's the bullshit broken people do. That's the lie that lets people pretend that they are better than they are.\n\nAnd good men don't fight evil. Good men turn the other cheek. Good men are no use to evil.\n\nSee evil is about appetite. We made The Greatest Generation consume a great evil. Pictures. Slogans. The scent of roast corpse chilling in winter ash clogged the nostrils of thousands. Their stories seeping into the minds of millions.\n\nEvil is the fire, kindled in the soul and raging across the ages. The tiny spark of larceny fanned into greed and mendacity. The casual flick of the remote as you flip away from the pictures of staring children. Or maybe you get involved, work for charity, and find yourself seeking that next raise and the next perk, the tiny slice you take from the pie that should be feeding the starving.\n\nIt's okay. You tell yourself you need what you have, and just a hair more.\n\nWe get you to look at the poor and say \"if only there was some way to make _them_ pay.\"\n\nWe make you hunger to be us. We make you hunger to beat out your neighbor. Or maybe beat him up. Or just take his stuff. Anything for an edge.\n\nAnd it _is_ okay. Trust me. This fire serves humanity and the cost of all that is all that is humane.\n\nSo we trot out the stereotypes. We show you broken people doing broken things and let you point and stoke your superiority. We show you the madness indistinguishable from the piety you lust to possess. Confusing messages. Confusing times.\n\nYou cannot escape. And if you could, where would you go? What would you do when you got there?\n\nDoesn't matter.\n\nEven now, you read these words and don't quite feel the point. You aren't stirred. You aren't in affront.\n\nYou came here looking for a shiver. You wanted to see some horrible other. A caricature. Something so unlike you that you could say \"that is evil, so I am not\".\n\nThere is no soothing puppet show here. No shadow play or pantomime that will excuse your daily life. The excesses you enjoy at the expense of all others.\n\nYou carry the spark, the tiny hidden flame you dare not ever let go out. Who would you be without it?\n\nI am evil. What is my evil deed for the day? Today I show you the clean, dry, and tidy mirror that lets you see where you've gone wrong.\n\nYou wont care. At least not right now as you read along. This seed is no bigger than the others. But the whole forest grows from just those small seeds.\n\nMy evil deed is to bring you fatigue. To mention your illusions so casually and simply that you'll grow your next callus. To move you that next step towards your own quiet and desperate dissolution.\n\nWhat have you stolen lately?\n\nWhat blame have you laid on \"the other\"?\n\nWhat promises did you break?\n\nWho are you without your illusions?\n\nWhat did you let die today?",
"\"Come again, sir?\" The CEO of Grendl industries, the single most prolific company that brought the country of Hurnst out of its decrepit third world state into an economic power house, couldn't believe what he'd just heard from their sole owner: Tim Grendl.\n\n\"You heard right,\" the man said, \"sell it all.\"\n\nA million crying voices flashed through John Keln's mind, but out of all of them, the loudest thought asked: what the fuck?! \"That'd put half the country's population without jobs, sir.\" They'd done massive lay-offs before, at the size of hundreds, but this was a scale unimaginable otherwise.\n\n\"If you won't do it\", Tim reached for his desk phone, \"I will.\"\n\n\"But why sir?!\" John's head was a mess of panic and guilt--here was the man he respected out of all of them, and here he was about to sentence half his nation to death.\n\nTim pressed a button, to a number John did not know. \"Everything out before the day ends.\" Was his boss's clipped words, six words that had the potential to kill a little over three million.\n\nJohn's legs gave out under him, the deed was done, and even he would lose his job come tomorrow. \"Why?\" A single tear slid down his face, and even the air he breathed he couldn't feel.\n\nTim stood from his chair and stretched, the man's simple dress of a shirt and slacks an understatement of the corporate empire he once owned. \"To prove a point.\"\n\n\"What point?\"\n\nTim walked over to the only piece of decoration he had in his office: a portrait of The Power. A superhero who emerged twenty years ago and inspired the new age of heroics, following the decline thirty years ago. \"That, there are some things even heroes are powerless to face.\"\n\n\"All this for that?\"\n\nTim cracked a smile at the shell of a man. \"Is there any better way?\"",
"As anyone who knows these sorts of thing will tell you, it takes at least three years for a new identity to stick. And even then, it isn't advised that you draw anything more than the most passing sort of scrutiny. \n\nThree years of pay stubs. Three years of verified housing. Three years of doctors appointments, car payments, and cable bills. Three years of living in that skin. And again, that's only good enough to look like you from a distance.\n\nLinus Worth had been Linus Worth for four and a half years almost to the day when he set foot inside Cushing's Home for Boys. It had been, to him, a very long time.\n\n\"And you say you've fostered before?\" said the pretty, young volunteer. She wore a floral-print dress and a gray cardigan. She did not look Linus in the eyes.\n\n\"Yes. In Nebraska,\" said Linus, eyes straight ahead, always following a respectful distance behind. \"A boy named Noah. Quite bright. Very troubled. He ran away after only a week. It was...heartbreaking. I wasn't sure I'd ever have the heart to try again.\" He sighed loudly. \"But I want to help. Very badly. And having children was Kristy's biggest wish...\"\n\n\"Your wife?\" said the volunteer, still marching forward down the linoleum hallway.\n\n\"Yes. My wife,\" said Linus.\n\nThey stopped outside a room. The door was halfway open. \"Have you considered volunteering?\" said the girl.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Linus. \"But I...I think something more *committed* would work best for me. I have a lot of...love to give.\"\n\nThe girl nodded, then pushed open the door. \"Davey? This is Mr. Worth. He wanted to meet you.\"\n\nThe boy in the room was wiry and dark, with hunched shoulders and an upturned mouth. He was also missing one eye. The remaining eye blazed as he glared up at Linus and the volunteer.\n\n\"You a homo?\" said Davey, not bothering to set down the cover-less paperback in his hands.\n\n\"*Davey*!\" said the volunteer. \"You've been warned about talking like that. Mr. Worth is a guest.\"\n\n\"Is Mr. Worth a homo?\" replied Davey. \n\n\"I'm sorry,\" said the girl, still not able to look Linus in the eyes. \"He...well, I'm sure Davey would be happy to tell you about his background.\"\n\nHe was not. Still, the girl was able to coax out some of the finer details. A dead father. A mother in jail. Two sisters in the system he'd already written off as lost. If any part of his life had caused Davey pain you wouldn't know it. He presented everything as fact, no more notable or traumatic than the sun rising in the east and setting in the west.\n\nThe sessions continued for two months. Two months of Linus listening, still-faced and thoughtful. Two months of Davey's pointed verbal abuse. Somewhere in those two months someone with the authority to do so had decided both parties had suffered enough, in their own unique ways. The paperwork was substantial. It took Linus just over an hour to complete. But in the end, Davey was his.\n\n\"You got some fag pad?\" said Davey, sprawled out in the passenger's seat of Linus' gently used Honda. \"You stick a dick in my mouth I swear I'll fuckin' bite it off.\"\n\n\"Davey, how many times have I told you that you've got the wrong impression of me?\" said Linus, pulling off the highway and heading out towards the farmland to the north. \"I'm not a homosexual.\"\n\nDavey shrugged. \"Pretty faggy to me. Buying lil' boys and all.\"\n\n\"I didn't *buy* you,\" said Linus with a laugh. \"They *gave* you to me. That's an important distinction to make. If I'd bought you that would imply you were worth something.\"\n\nNow Davey laughed. \"Ha! Gettin' bitchy, huh? Time of the month?\"\n\n\"Davey, Davey,\" sighed Linus. \"You should know why I picked you.\"\n\nDavey snorted. The world outside his window was full of trees and rocks and nothing much more. He shifted in his seat.\n\n\"I like people like you Davey,\" said Linus, raising a finger. \"And no, not in the way you're so quick to claim. It's not that you're a boy. It's that you refuse to be scared.\"\n\n\"Man, what the fuck does that mean?\" said Davey. \"I'm sure as hell not scared of *you*.\"\n\nLinus nodded, following a rhythm only he could hear. \"Oh, but you *are* afraid. Very afraid. You've been afraid for a very long time now. Afraid of being hurt. You wear that attitude like a shield, because you think it will protect you. You think it will keep away the people who enjoy causing fear. People like your father. But you can't keep those people away, Davey. No, no. And in the end...in the end they always find you.\"\n\n\"Fuck off,\" said Davey, leaning towards the window. \"Do whatever the fuck you want. I don't care.\"\n\n\"Good,\" said Linus. \"I suppose I will. But before I do, would you like to make a bet?\"\n\nDavey shook his head. \"Fuck off, goddamn faggot.\"\n\n\"It'll be a good one,\" said Linus. \"Well worth your while. Open the glove compartment.\"\n\nDavey glared at the man, but did as he was told. There was a bundled pile of money sitting alone in the compartment.\n\n\"I bet that I can make you scream,\" said Linus. \"And I bet I'll do it before the hour is up.\" Davey shook his head but said nothing. \"If you make it an hour without screaming, you can have that money and go wherever you like.\"\n\nDavey eyed the money. \"Just don't scream?\"\n\nLinus smiled. \"One hour. Starting now.\"\n\nDavey nodded. \"Alright. Do whatever the fuck you want.\"\n\n\"No worries,\" said Linus. \"In due time. But first...\" He parked the car. They were just down a slope from a small wooden shack. \"Follow me.\"\n\nThey walked up the dirt path to the shack. Davey considered his options. He could easily knock the man down and steal the money, but would he have to kill the man to be safe? Davey thought he could, but he wasn't sure. Maybe he could just play along and hope the man was being honest?\n\nLinus saw the deliberation playing out behind the boy's eyes. It was very pleasing to him. \"Oh, I forgot one small thing,\" he said as he pushed open the door to the shack and swept Davey inside with a gentle hand. He flicked on the lights.\n\n\"We've got company,\" said Linus, holding the boy firmly by the shoulders. \"How long has it been since you've seen your sisters?\"\n\nDavey screamed."
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[WP] ...And that's when I realized I had a hole in my pocket.
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"I'm out. I'm out! I MADE IT OUT! I successfully escaped from the diamond mine! My whole life is ahead of me. Warmth and joy is all I feel after nine years and 38 days of slavery in the mine. Today I have finally escaped.\n\nJoy spikes up my spine as I run through the rocky field and feel the diamonds in my pocket. Over these nine years I had found diamonds much bigger than the ones in my pocket, but had either handed them over to the slave masters, or had discarded them in the waste bins as a big \"fuck you\" to the system.\n\nIn 4735 more meters I would be embraced by humanitarian workers and escorted back home. Suddenly machine gun fire broke the silence only filled by the pitter patter of my bloody bare feet running at full speed away from the militarized zone. Almost there! 1742 meters to go. 300 meters. I could see the last barbed wire fence. 43 meters, a group of hazmat suit adorn saviors were in sight. \n\nI made it to freedom. It was time to start a new life. I was ready to go home and cash in all the jewels in my pocket to pay off the debt that had sold me into slavery in the first place. \n\nReady for freedom. Ready to raise my family out of poverty. Ready to live the simple life which was now considered an unattainable luxury... time to cash in and escape from the harsh realities of poverty.\n\nThis is incredible! I am overcome with joy. I get on a plane that transports me home. Time to live the life I always imagined. No more worries about money. Freedom is here.... and that's when I realized I had a hole in my pocket, that this was all a dream and I'm late for school."
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[WP] Aliens invade Earth, but one thing didn't enter their calculations. A zombie plague afflicts both sides.
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"I quietly got out of the small cot and made my way past the rows of snoring bodies. I was to meet the others in the kitchen at roughly 0100. I got there just a minute early and everyone was already whispering amongst each other, surrounding the kitchen counter lit by a kerosene lamp. \n\t“I’m telling you that horde will be on us by the end of the week!” Russell was telling the group.\n\t“Keep calm Russell, you don’t want to wake the whole house.” Abxerka said, grabbing Russell’s arm.\n\t“Don’t tell me what to keep calm about, filth, its your fault this whole mess!” Russell grimaced, but was restrained by Jonathan, our leader.\n\t“Now, Russell. We don’t need to go over this all again. We are not blaming anyone. We are trying to survive. And we can;t do that with pointed fingers.”\n\tI crept around the corner coughing slightly, making my entrance. “Uh, hello everyone.”\n\tThe group turned suddenly startled, then calming seeing it was me. “Well, well, if it isn’t our little scout. Now come near, share with us your intel from todays scouting.” Jonathan smiled opening a space for me in the circle.\n\t“Well, I saw that there were a collection of markets and grocers that seemed untouched just a few miles out from here, probably just a three day job, not a problem for me. And also I found this,” I pulled out a small cone shaped object from by pocket. “What is this, is this your guys’, or ours?” I asked Abxerka.\n\t“Well I’ll be damned, I thought these all would of been destroyed in the crashes,” Juxbrotha said, grabbing the object from my hand. When he touched it, it glowed bright red.\n\t“What is it?” I asked him.\n\t“Well, when you guys launched your viruses we had these to cure the effects of the disease, but as we all know it caused, uh, different side effects.”\n\t“So this is how it started?” Russel asked.\n\t“Well not exactly,” Juxbrotha, said, examining the cone closer. “There is reason to believe that us Rothraxi and Humans are more closely related that previously thought. Thanks for bringing this to us kid.” Juxbrotha said patting my head with his hand. The Rothraxi were always sticky so my head was now covered in a thin layer of slime. I was still getting use to being with aliens from another planet.\n\t“If you could all excuse us, I wanted to have a word with our little scout here for a moment,” Jonathan said. The group nodded and went back to talking, except for Abxerka who followed me and Jonathan out to the patio.\n\t“So look, I really appreciate what you have been doing for us, sticking your neck out for us and all,” Jonathan said.\n\t“Of course, I want to help as much as I can,” I told him.\n\t“Thanks for joining us Abxerka, uh, look, we have a favor to ask you-”\n\t“Child of man, do you know what caused this terrible outbreak? Do you know the cause of it?”\n\t“Uh, no not quite, I said. I was anxious to see where this was going.\n\t“Well, we came to your planet because we saw we were both of Carbon based life forms and also the countless other similarities between our species, however, the biggest factor was disease.”\n\t“So you did bring the outbreak to us.”\n\t“No, not intentionally. We were escaping an epidemic of our own. We fled, in order to try and preserve our species.”\n\t“And as you know here on Earth we were having an epidemic of our own.” Jonathan piped in.\n\tAbxerka grabbed the post on the patio and looked up into the sky. “We think that there are greater deeper forces here at work. The two diseases morphed somehow with each other to cause this new super virus.”\n\t“So, what do I have t do with this?” I asked them.\n\t“Well, a couple nights ago we got transmissions from an object in space which later crashed just a few miles away.” Jonathan said.\n\t“And we want you to go and investigate it.” Abxerka interrupted.\n\tThe door opened up again, and Juxbrotha walked out “Hey uh sir, Heblroba is getting into it with Russell, can you guys come in and help?”\n\tAbxerka started for the door, “Its okay Sir Jonathan, I can handle.”\n\tThe door closed again and it was just me and Jonathan out in the cold still eerie air alone. “Look kid. I know this is asking a lot of you. I wanted to go, but Abxerka thought best if-“\n\t“Its okay sir, I want to go.” \n\t“You don’t have to play hero kid.”\n\t“Really Jonathan, I want to. I want to help. I want to fix this all.”\n\t“You’re something else kid you know that.”\n\tI nodded, “Yea, don’t mention it sir.” \n\tScuffling and some shouting came from inside, we both looked in and Jonathan went inside, he looked down at me quickly and said, “Kid, whatever happens,” \n\t“Just leave it sir.” Jonathan smiled and walked back inside.\n\tI was all alone now. The still calm night air leaving everything alone. Millions of thoughts ran through my mind. None of them had to do with the c=fact I lived in a world where zombies actually existed, and along with them alien zombie, no I was thinking about that ship I was going to. Could this be the answer to our problems? I hoped to god it could, but then again I wondered what would happen if it did, would we all have to coexist? I feared the result of finding the answer and also of not finding it equally."
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[WP] As a modern day necromancer, there's always some extra opportunities for you. But not everyone appreciates your hard work.
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"\"Yeah, babe, I'm a necromancer,\" Damien said proudly as he finished his third rum and coke. He waved his fingers airily. \"I conquer death, raise the unliving, restore breath to the befouled. It's pretty sweet.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" replied Cindy and had another sip of her Cocky Pirate. The straw made a slurp in the ice at the bottom of her drink.\n\n\"Last week I totally made bank. This real estate dude was trying to get this old bag to give him her money before she croaked. Totally sweet con job. Thing is, the lady was gunna leave him everything - I mean everything - but then she, like, DIED before she could sign the new will he had drawn up.\" \n\nDamien started laughing as he told his story.\n\n\"Like, she was gone and this dude, the real estate guy, had been working that con for fucking years. So he called me and I like retrieved her soul from the nether plains (it was totally sweet, she hasn't even crossed yet but I let the guy think it was, like, really hard). And during reanimation I was all like 'augh this is so hard'. \n\n\"But then she was like restored to the lower realms of reality and she was like 'whaaaa?' and I was like 'hieeee'. Then the guy like got her to sign all these documents, he was totally stressing and like worried her spirit would yearn for the promised release. So she was still like not even aware of her undeath and she was all like 'yes dear'.\n\n\"It was totally cool.\"\n\nCindy looked up when Damien paused and swizzled her drink. \"You don't say. Hey, do you know what song this is?\"\n\n\"Oh my god you totally weren't even listening!\"\n\n\"Hmm? Yeah, I was listening. Um, so what happened to her?\"\n\n\"What happened to the lady?\", asked Damien. \"I dunno. Not my problem. He probably just encased her in concrete to await the end of the present age of Doom Lord Voltaruus or something.\"\n\nAfter Cindy returned from the bathroom, Damien continued.\n\n\"Oh, oh, and a while back it was the best. Like get this. This guy was, like, in jail or something for murdering his wife. He like totally shot her because she finds out he was like cheating or something. And his defence was like, 'oh, nah man, it's like I thought she was a home invader'. But the jury were all like 'nah bro' and they were like totally going to like give him the chair or something. And the judge was like, 'you dead'! \n\n\"But then he like pays me to resurrect his wife. And it was WEEKS later so she was manky as. But then she like walks in to that judges court room and it's all like 'mistrial, mistrial' but they killed him anyway. But he had already thought of that and he had paid me already to prevent his spirit from realising it's ascendant form. \n\n\"So I like had his money for like both him and his wife. But he was dead I was like 'the fuck you gonna do?' And I totally just like didn't even commune with the spirit realm to reconvene his essence into mortal form.\n\n\"Dude's like just fucked, haha!\"\n\nCindy laughed when Damien paused.\n\n\"You know, babe, you're not a very good listener. I'm like trying to make conversation but it's like I'm talking to myself.\"",
"\"You're all so hypocritical\" Oscar said to the woman who sat beside him in his shop. \"you jump at the chance of my help, throwing exorbitant amounts of money at me in order to have me bring back a loved one and then you act as if my profession is beneath you\" The woman stared gormless as he continued to speak \"Take one man the other day. James? John? it was one of those, what to I care, he rushed in here carrying the corpse of his kid. I gave him the whole \"retrieving child souls is more difficult and it will cost double\" and he paid without hesitation\"\n\n\"who wouldn't?\" the woman asked\"that kid had so much to live for\"\n\n\"eh\" Oscar shrugged \"kids are nothing special, I just like charging double. getting back to my story, I see the guy two to three days later walking with his kid and I ask him whether everything is OK and he crosses the street and rushes away from me!\"\n\n\"i'm not surprised\" the woman responded, tired of his story \"your value of human life is awful, you make us sound like dirt\"\n\n\"Missy if you have been in the necromancy trade for as long as i have you realise that human life is nothing special\" Oscar said tired of her stuck-up ideals. \"Human souls are valued at around ten thousand pounds with 50% of when they're over the age of 80 and double that if they are under the age of ten\"\n\n\"that's not people are worth\" the woman scoffed which earned a despondent glare from Oscar. \n\n\"If I knew you where going to be this annoying i wouldn't have resurrected you\" Oscar said placing a finger to her forehead. With that her eyes grew dull and she slumped, falling of the stool upon which she was sat. As her body thudded against the ground the shop door opened and Oscar turned to attention as a man strolled through the door clutching a small backpack.\n\n\"Welcome to Oscars Undertakers and resurrection facility, how may I be of assistance\" Oscar parroted putting on as convincing a smile as he could muster.\n\n\"yeah\" the man said obviously uncomfortable. \"What can you do with this\" he pulled open his backpack to reveal a severed human head."
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[WP] Your grandfather always told you never to look inside the closet. Today, you decided to ignore him.
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"I spent many weeks during the Summers of my life under the care of my paternal grandfather. He would work me hard during those days, with repairs around the house and yard work. The evenings, though, were my absolute favorite times. Papa would tell stories of the magical worlds, full of wars, rumors of wars, crusades, secret organizations, and toppling governments. He filled my mind with wonder, and I never thought I'd sleep following those stories, yet always passed out within just a couple minutes of laying my head on the pillow. There was only one stipulation for staying with Papa during those times: don't look inside the closet in his room.\n\nFast-forward to the Summer after my senior year of high school. I was invited by my grandfather to spend a few weeks with him before I headed out to college to settle into life there. As per the norm, he worked me to the bone during the days, and followed dinner with mystical stories. On the last night of my stay Papa told me another fantastic story about knights and Templars, then bid me good night.\n\nI read over some Facebook messages on my phone, responded to a few, then sat on the couch reminiscing about the time I'd spent at Papa's home. As I sat there contemplating his stories, I remembered his warning to not look in his closet. I'd always wanted to see what he was hiding in there, but had never gone further than that before. This time, I decided I would look in the closet. *I'm going off to college soon* I mused. *I may never get another chance to see what Papa's been hording in there.*\n\nI stealthily snuck up the stairs to the upper level, all the while pausing to listen for any sign of Papa being awake. All was quiet, so I continued my mission, shuffling down the hall towards my destination. At length I stood before the closet door, my heart rate increasing by the second. I slowly raised my hand to the door knob. The weight of my hand seemed to increase one hundred fold as my hand rose. I gripped the knob and slowly twisted it, until the knob would turn no further, then pulled the door open and was blinded by a camera flash. For a moment I didn't register what had just happened. As I collected myself, I heard a sharp cracking sound from inside the closet. For the second time in as many seconds, I didn't know what was going on.\n\nNot thirty seconds later, my grandfather turned on the lights in the hallway, and stared at me as if I had died. His wrinkles became more pronounced, and I thought his eyes were welling up with tears. \"My dear grandson, it pains me that you could not keep your promise to me. I had such high hopes for you. Now I must ask you to turn in for the night, and prepare to leave in the morning.\" I was speechless, and could only do as I was told.\n\nI've returned to Papa's home a few times in the years since. But things were never the same between us after that fateful night of disobedience and betrayal. I to this day still don't know what was in that closet. What I do know is that now I have neither the knowledge of the closet's contents nor Papa's trust and confidence."
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[WP] In the distant future, the advancement of technology begins to drop off and slow to a crawl. We perpetuated a faulty assumption about one specific fundamental property too far---and that assumption is:
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"Human ingenuity is limitless. At least, a long time ago perhaps, it must have seemed that way. Each year lead to huge leaps in technology and culture. During the early 21st century the internet made collaboration on a global scale possible for the first time. Unparalleled growth was seen during this time, but soon thereafter something never before experienced by our species was observed. Decline in advancement. For the first time ever we were learning new things about ourselves, and the universe, more slowly than those that came before us. Only slightly at first, but the effect became more apparent as time went on. Today nothing new is invented, no new discoveries are made. Despite our efforts we seem to have simply run out of ideas."
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[WP] It is a known fact that the underdog always wins. Two sports teams attempt to out-underdog each other.
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"\"Okay boys and girl, we can do this!\" Coach Borden smiled as he gave his speech. \"We may not be the best, but we're gonna go out there and give it our all!\" His team cheered and ran out to play. He knew he was gonna win, it was common knowledge among sports coaches that the underdog team was going to win, so he had assembled the best underdogs he could find.\n\nHe had Wally, the janitor who dropped out of high school and just rejoined to get his degree, he couldn't play baseball when he was younger due to polio but now he was gonna give it his all. \nHe had his tomboy, Princess, a girl who was stronger then most boys. She was a great pick.\nHe had Eugene, the wheelchair bound nerd with a heart of gold who wasn't athletic and had been failing during practice but had the physics know how to hit the ball perfectly in the last few seconds, just when they needed it.\nHe had his heavy hitter, Burt, a jock from the preparatory school they were about to go against who saw the error of his ways and joined them to be with his step-brother. A white bread protagonist named James.\n\nHe walked out of the dugout and smiled waiting for the opposing team to come out, he had this in the bag. His smile faded as he saw the enemy team come out, they were all girls and had no limbs. They were bleeding, one kid looked brain dead. They were ten times the underdog his team was. Their team coach walked out behind them, he was holding a blood covered cleaver. \"Shit...\"",
"Coach Caley screwed the heels of his palms into his eyes and let out a long groan of frustration. He couldn’t believe this – this 4 a side soccer game should be in the bag! And yet at half-time Greendale High were three nil down. He looked round at his assembled team, and dug deep for some words of inspiration.\n“Ok everyone” he began “let’s think clearly for a second”. He pointed at the young teenager to his left “Alex, you got bullied at your old school and never made the team, then a kind mysterious Asian man in your building trained you to be an amazing player right?”. \n\nAlex nodded\n\n“Daphne” said the coach, looking at a beautiful girl with short hair next to Alex, “you dressed as a boy to get on the team…even though we actually do take girls on the team, so that was a bit of an odd decision…” Daphne’s cheeks coloured slightly at this “…and then revealed yourself before the game started”. \n\n“Yes coach” intoned Daphne in a deep voice. “Sorry – yes coach” she repeated in a more normal tone. “Force of habit”\n\nThe coach turned to the boy on his right wearing a kit that seemed much more expensive and well-made than the other players – “Tarquin, you were forbidden from taking part in the game because your parents thought soccer was for the lower classes, but made the team anyway”\n\n“That’s correct Coach Caley” said Tarquin in his posh voice\n\n“And if we look in the stands…” the Coach squinted up to the seats on the other side of the pitch …”we should see your parents who have turned up to support you anyway. Ah yes there they are”\n\nThe other players turned, and across the grass they could just make out a smartly dressed man and women holding a banner saying “Tarquin is sublime at soccer!”.\n\nCoach Caley gestured to the last member of his team, who was around foot taller than the other teens. “And Barry, you were put into the soccer team as punishment for your unruly behaviour, and despite initially resisting, you’ve developed a strong bond of mutual respect and tolerance with me”. \n\n“S’right” Barry grunted.\nThe Coach rubbed his hand thoughtfully on his chin, and felt his inside pocket absently; it was missing the flask that was usually there.\n\n“I was a grumpy alcoholic that has been redeemed through his work with this ragtag bunch of misfits….” He mused “..this should have been easy. Who knew that Hobson High would get a team together from the people left over when the chess and computer clubs ran out of money?”.\n\nHe looked over at the other team, huddled on the opposite side-line around their own coach. Uniforms mis-matched, sunlight glinted off their glasses and back braces… one in a wheelchair for god's sake!\n\nCoach Caley came to a decision. The nuclear option.\n\n“OK team, the only thing left is to go out there and concede more goals”\n\nHis team looked at him aghast. “What, you mean try and LOSE?” shouted Barry.\n\n“Yes!” replied the Coach. “Concede as many goals as you can! Get thrashed into oblivion! Even get a bit injured if you can”\n\n“Are you sure about this?” asked Daphne.\n\n“Positive” replied the Coach. “Just trust me”\nThe whistle blew for the second half. The team looked at the Coach again, and he nodded. They nodded back\n\n******************************************************************************\n\nThe principal took to the stage erected in the centre of the pitch, and spoke into the microphone.\n“Thank you all for coming to watch the game” he said to the crowd. “Although it wasn’t quite what we expected, it gives me great pleasure to present the trophy to the winners following the disqualification of Hobson High for some-reason-or-another to….Greendale!”\n\nThe crowd went wild. At the far end of the pitch, the coach of Hobson High took off his cap and angrily threw it to the ground.\n\nAs his team raced onto the pitch to celebrate, Coach Caley stood at the sideline and smiled to himself. Last minute disqualification….the underdogiest move of them all….it never failed.\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] Your recently published book unintentionally contains classified information. What happens next?
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"Okay, that really wasn’t fair. It’s all a numbers game, apparently. But, seriously? I publish a Science Fiction novel, that my parents don’t even buy, and the feds come to my house to ask me questions. I somehow published “classified” material. How can it possibly be classified if I made it up?! Them harassing me only proves the existence of aliens! Literally. \n\nI guess it’s my fault for being original. It wouldn’t be the first time that my creative spirit would have gotten me in trouble, like in Art class in fifth grade. Mrs. Berk. It’s called abstract. \n\nThey knocked again on my door. The jet-black tinted Chevy’s line the curb outside my house. I peaked through the blinds, I could see one agent on the far right of my house going around it. They were going to surround my house and break in. Because of an unjustly poor selling novel with a, now confirmed, accurate depiction of aliens. \n\nI probably have a few minutes before they actually break in, they’re just moving into position. What should I do? I guess I can blog about it. But anything I post, they will probably delete. Plus, no one would believe me. Charles Dickens was sent into an INSANE ASYLUM because he thought the FBI was following him! And guess what? The FBI WAS following him! \n\nIt’s just history repeating itself, the government wants to censor art by an amazing author. \n\nThey knock again, louder this time. “Federal Agents, open up!” I heard through the door. I closed the blinds and walked to the door. They are going to get in one way or the other, I guess.\n \nI open the door. \n\nI saw what I can only describe as a cardboard cut-out spitting image of a federal agent. Black suit, black loafers, black tie, black sunglasses, white earpiece, slicked back hair. I guess movies are pretty accurate now that I think about it. \n\n“Hello, sir. May we come in?” He asked in a sobering voice. I tried to not shake my head as I gave this clone my utmost attention. \n\n“Of course you can, Mr.?” I let the question trail off. I might as well make my life the real-life version of a bad spy flick. Wait, did he say, “we.” \n\n“That was a rhetorical question.” He said. \n\nI heard the other agents kick in my back door and I’m pretty sure at least one broke in through my bathroom window. The black-suited clones were behind me before I could turn, handguns drawn. I put up my hands. \n\n“Am I under arrest?” I asked sheepishly. \n\n“Well, this isn’t nearly as public.” He said dryly. \n\nThey put a black bag over my head. I couldn’t see anything out of it. I felt like the captives in the first Dark Brotherhood quest in Skyrim. I’m just going to end up waiting for some lazy asshole to execute me. \n\nMy hands were cuffed behind me. One of the agents behind me pushed me forward, leading me toward their car. I heard them talking as I was led out of my house. Like they were surprised that it was easy. \n\n No one spoke to me as we drove for hours. I heard the car finally come to a halt. The door was open and I was being led out again. It felt like nighttime, the overbearing Valley sun didn’t seem to be at play now. \n\nI was put into a room when they ripped the hood off. I adjusted in the seat of my steel chair. The metal was freezing in the interrogation room. I blinked and tried to cover my eyes with my still-cuffed hands. \n\n“Oh no you don’t.” He said. It was another federal agent clone. He looked like the spitting image of the first guy, and the one after that, and the one after that… \n\n“What is this about? My book?” I said, “How am I going to be held accountable for a piece of fiction? No matter how breathtakingly descriptive! It’s not my fault I’m gifted.” \n\nHe paused after I finished my defense. He put both of his hands on the cold stainless steel table in front of him. I could see my incredulous face reflected in his sunglasses. \n\n“How stupid do you think we are?” he asked, insulted. \n\nHis voice was so monotone he sounded like a born and raised pencil pusher. Well, I am too, technically. But I’m creative. I’m so creative the FBI had to arrest me for my originality and accuracy. I can’t believe no one described them like that before, or maybe I’m just the most recent. I guess someone else in my spot wouldn’t also be allowed to stay free for long. \n\n“What are you talking about then?” I said confused. \n\n“You really think we would believe that you’re just some nerdy science fiction writer? The only way ANYONE could know the United States Government wasn’t honoring our trade agreements with the Gallion people, could only be another Gallion!” \nI didn’t think he could raise his voice but now he looked red in the face. So not only did I completely nail the name Gallion I also simultaneously wrote down their dealings with the U.S. Wow, I can’t believe my parents didn’t buy my novel. It’s a really juicy story. \n\nI kept trying to talk with my hands, and wiggling in my seat. \n\n“Okay, look, I think this is just a huge misunderstanding. I promise. I’m not an alien, I’m just a great author. I understand how the two can be confused.” I said. \n\nHe huffed at me. \n\n“Of course your not a Gallion. And of course your not trying to reveal our secrets to the human race. I believe you.” He said calmly. \n\n“Really? Okay, great. You can take off these cuffs and take me home.” \n\n“Of course. I’ll take them off after you under go the autopsy, Gallion.” He smirked. \n\nMaybe even I have their persona down! Man, I should have been a bestseller. \n\nThey led me out of the interrogation room. \n"
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What do you do next?
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[WP] You are a officer inside the bunker. Opposite the walls of the bunker, that surrounds you are, the nation's stock of nuclear weapons and your hands are on the keys. You just received news russia ordered to launch all nuclear warheads and the world will come to end within the next 10 minutes...
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"\"Sir we need your response now!\"\n\nThe president gestures for the generals and staff members to sit and quiet down as he calmly takes his seat.\n\n\"Sir I know this may be hard to comprehend but the world will end MAD is the only tatic a nuclear power of that size could win. What are your oders\"\n\n\"Listen here I may be the president and I may be the one who can authorize the strikes but you have the keys and only you can launch the stikes. In the end it's up to you do you want to know you contributed to the end of humanity? As of this moment I resign from my position.\" The president said.\n\nShock filled the room as the president got up and walked out the door. Shorlty afterwards he was escorted back by secret service members. Who would not allow him to leave.\n\n\"Mr president sir he needs an answer\"\n\n\"Alright then if you need one so bad here it is. You on the controls, I give you the authority to make the choice yourself\" The president replied as paced backed and forth across the room obviously annoyed by these over protective hounds harassing him. \n\n\"We're dead we're all gonna die\"\n\"My family's still at home you have to let me out\"\n\"If anyone needs me I'll be in my office with my secretary\" \n\nThink what do I do. Damn it think think.....\n\nIf the Russians started it we have to respond.... but we're already dead anyways why bother ending more lives. But treaties and what not will destroy them anyways right? If the whole worlds gone why bother at all. \n\nAll these thoughts race through my head. \n\n\"45 seconds to impact\" a voice said over a loudspeaker\n\nNo no I should...... but theirs no point in this...... \n\n\"25 seconds to impact\"\n\nNo damn it what do I do\n\n\"Intrusion detected nuclear threat invalid\" the voice from earlier says.\n\n\"Sir it appears our systems were hacked to simulate an attack in an attempt to instigate a war.\" \n\n\"Orgin point appears to be coming from asia sir\"\n\n\"Good job I knew you'd make the right call. It's not like I was using you as a scapegoat in case we launched a counter attack in such an event. You just saved my ass how can I ever pay you back.\" He says\n\n\"But sir you just resigned!\" Several others said in the bunker in an attempt to replace him. \n\n\"Now where are these false accusations coming from, agents detain these terrorists these people have committed treason against our nations.\" The \"former\" president said.\n\n\"Now the Chinese and Koreans want to play dirty like this and use us as an instigator who can we use..... We haven't played a prank on our english pals in a while let's see how they respond.\" He said.\n \nIs this really right? Why have I been silent this whole time?\n\n\"Hello yes mister prime minister norad has detected several nuclear launches orginating from......\"\n\n\"Suggest you launch your entire aresnal with us in retalation.\" \n\n\" I love a good game of chicken. Reminds me of when my brothers and I measured to see who has the biggest Johnson\" he continued.\n\nFuck this I think to myself as I turn the key while everyone is distracted and launch several missles at targets in every country.\n\n\"Mr president you have some explainng to do\" I said as I stood aside from the screen showing several launches.\"\n\n\"What the hell have you done\"\n\n\"If this is what you want it's what you'll get and better sooner than later right? Wasn't that slogan a part of your election campaign?\" \n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] You accidentally call Bloody Mary into your Bathroom during your morning routine, and she's actually pretty friendly after she's had her coffee.
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"The heat of the water dissipated just as I stepped out of the shower. \nCold air grabbed at my ancles, slithering up behind my back. It’s nice to be the first one to wake up. \nFirst one up means a hot shower. I reached for a towel on the rack, and shuffled my way towards the sink, trying to drag the bathmat with me under my feet. I dried myself off, and put on clean underwear. \nThe mirror had an opaque look to it, a result from all the hot water filling the room with condensed water. \nI grabbed a dry towel and wiped it clean so that i could see myself. There I stood. A blue eyed girl with water trickling down her shoulders from her soaking hair. I remembered when in elementary school, we used to scare each other with good old urban legends. The slitmouthed woman, slenderman, the uninvited passenger hiding in your backseat were popular stories. But the one that always got to me, was Bloody Mary. \nAfter I heard the story for the first time, I almost jumped out of my skin everytime i passed a mirror. I had problems with going to the bathroom alone for several months, and my parents made a big deal out of the whole storytelling epidemic among 5th graders by complaining to the headmaster. And I never dared chant her name three times, not even in a room without mirrors. I eventually got past my fear of mirrors, but never forgot the story. Now that I was 19, I had other things to tend to, you know, like normal things that engross 19 year olds. Urban legends only creeps me out from time to time, depending on the amount of creepiness. Bloody Mary was now only a mere bad work of fiction. So it didn’t scare me when I decided right there and then to chant the dead girls name three times in the mirror. \nAt first I felt stupid. Of course nothing would happen. It was just fiction right? I looked away for a moment, searching for the cup of coffee i hade made for myself before stepping into the shower. But it was nowhere to be seen. How could this have happened? i asked myself. I distinctly remembered i put the coffee right beside my hairbrush by the sink. I’m not usually forgetful, but maybe today was the day. \n\n„This is reeaalllyyy good coffee“, a voice behind me echoed. \n\nTaken by surprise, I spun around, only to see a teenage girl sitting on top of the laundry basket. She was holding my coffee, looking really tired as she sipped the contents carefully. Her hair was dark brown and dull. Her skin was as pale as my grandmas pristine white towels and her eyes bloodshot. At first I thought it was one of my roommates messing with me, but she did definately not look like any of them. The girl noticed me staring and tilted her head in confusion. \n\n„Why are you staring?“, she said. Her cracked lips were moving, but I had trouble keeping up with her words.\n „I just really like coffee. Nobody ever thinks to bring coffee once they decide to summon me, and that makes me angry. But you my dear..“ as she slid off the laundry basket, she put her hand on my shoulder. „You get the idea.“ \n\nShe keeps on rambling about the coffee, about how good it was and how great it felt that somebody understood her. „Everyone think it’s a joke! BLOODY MARY BLOODY MARY BLOODY MARY! I occasionally listen in on the stories they tell. All wrong! I never killed anybody. I just give them a little scare.“\n\nAll I could do was stare at this girl. Did I actually summon Bloody Mary? The stories of her that I’ve been told have described her as a monster. A dead girl seaking revenge for her murder. But this version was nice, and I thought, maybe she isn’t all that bad once she’s had her coffee. ",
"\"You can do this. You can do this. You are Dwayne Parks and you can do this.\" \n\nRegardless of how many times he tried, Dwayne's attempts to prepare himself for the day he was about to have simply weren't working. Too tired to panic, he allowed himself a brief moment of pessimism. \n\n“I can’t do this.”\n\nStaring back at his own tired reflection, he could see the hours of missed sleep bagging under his eyes. His black tie clashed horribly with his expensive new suit, and to top it all off, he hadn't had a chance to comb his hair yet. \n\nThe nervous business man had time for but one sip of his drink before a sudden ringing of his phone resonated loudly around the small bathroom. It was Mary from the reception desk no doubt, always calling at the most inconvenient of times. Dwayne's phone vibrated rhythmically, teetering closer and closer to the edge of the sink, blurring the obnoxious pre-set ringtone he never cared to change.\n\n\"Ugh, bloody Mary,\" he sighed, moving to catch his phone before it could descend to the floor. Foolishly, he had forgotten to lid his coffee and a burning dribble of caffeine splashed against his chest. \"Ah, damn. Bloody. Mary.\" Dwayne wisely put his dripping mug on the sink and collected his phone off the ground. He wasn't surprised he had missed the call, Mary was only patient enough to reapply the same crimson nail polish, or *bloodying her claws* as the everyone else put it. “Bloody, god damn, Mary” he muttered, taking another piping hot sip. Even on a stressful day like today, he knew she wasn’t about to let him off with missing an “important” call. \n\nHis suppressed his frustrations as best he could, attempting to bury it under more false optimism but to no avail. Heat flushed all over his body, he felt as if he were a furnace that could rival the sun, and then, in a flash, he felt his temperature shift to a strange chilled sensation.\n\nWith a heavy bang, the bathroom door slammed shut. Dwayne flinched before trying the doorknob. He felt a panic come on as the door remained firmly locked despite the lock being broken for months. Fear truly took hold as the lights began to violently flicker and every item in the room levitated into the air. With his back to the flat against the door, Dwayne could only stare in horror as a figure of shadows took form in his mirror. With deathly white skin, tendrils of wavy hair, and eyes blacker any midnight, Bloody Mary appeared before him.\n\nDarkness encompassed the room, Dwayne’s heart hammered away in his chest and blood raced about in his veins, he’d have screamed had he any air to spare. He quaked with fear, awaiting his enviable death, dreaded every fleeting second he spent so utterly stricken with fear. Then, penetrating the ringing in his ears, he heard her speak.\n\n“Is that coffee?”\n\nLight flashed back into the room. Dwayne, remaining fused with the door, was baffled to see the scourge teenager’s sleep over parties, harbinger of fear herself, sitting on the rim of his bath, happily sipping away at the most average brew of coffee Dwayne had ever made.\n\n“Umm, I- I I’m sorry. W-what?” he responded cautiously\n“Oh. Damn. You, uh, you weren’t supposed to see this.”\n\nDwayne was speechless. Mary hair, in addition to everything else in the room, had fallen back under the spell of gravity. “Alright,” she said, “just let me have this and we can talk. I’ve been running of fumes for days and a pick-me-up.”\n\nWith all the grace of an excited child, she drained ever last drop of caffeine out of the mug and released a great sigh of approval. “That wasn’t half bad, a little heavy on the sugar, but not bad.”\n\nIn the sweet time the monster girl had taken to finish her drink, Dwayne had pried himself off the door. He had been counting down the minutes he had been stuck in his own bathroom, still due for a meeting mere hours away, and waiting for a demon to finish drinking his coffee. Sucking the grimes off her finger, Mary finally addressed him.\n\n“Jeez pal, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” she giggled, a surprisingly human giggle and tapped twice on the bath, “Sit down Dwayne, you and me need to work about your motivation speech. Firstly, no more of this I can't so this stuff, it's really not good for your self-esteem.”",
"Waking up is by far the single worst part of my day. Ive invested countless amounts of money into plush bed coverings, silk sheets, ergonomic pillows, and a comforter woven by angels using unicorn tears. The only single solace I have during these dreadful times is the single most magnificent feat of human engineering ever invented, the coffee pot.\n\nSo there I was, Tuesday morning, awakening and dreading the rise from my woven heaven. I trudged still half asleep down to the kitchen, where the coffee pot, my savior, was already hard at work on a pot of bliss. I plopped myself into a chair and began drinking, thinking about my day to come, my daughter at camp, and work...ugh....work. I glanced at my phone and saw a message from Brittany, my daughter.\n\n(daddy, did u do it? our dare?)\n\nWell damn. Last night I had promised her I would go to the bathroom and call Bloody Mary. As the old adage goes, you say her name three times and she appears, terrorizing all young children naive enough to challenge the myth.\n\n Nearly eight a.m., time to get some work done. Now working from home has many perks, such as not getting out of my pajamas. However it has its drawbacks as well, the closest being motivation, or lack there of. I roam slowly back upstairs, stopping in the bathroom to take care of my morning duties and brush my teeth. \n\n\"What the hell, it cant hurt right?\" I say aloud to myself as I stared into the mirror. \"Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary\". Nothing but silence greats me and I laughed aloud at the fact that I let myself believe just for a moment that...\n\n\"WHAT?!! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?!!\"\n\nDespite having taken care of my morning routines already, I clearly must have missed some, as the inside of my pants can attest. \n\n\"I...Whu...You....\", words had clearly failed me. \n\n\"Uh, Uh, Uh, you gonna talk or what?\"\n\n\"You're real?\" was all I could stammer out.\n\nShe dropped back into the chair behind her in the mirror, that had clearly just appeared, and let out an exacerbated sigh \"Welp, evidently we got another genius on on our hands\", she said, rolling her eyes. \n \n\"My intelligence is fine, thank you\" I barked \"it's just that one tends to be a little startled when a ghost appears in his mirror.\"\n\nFor the last time,\" I'M NOT A GHOST\" she said, pronouncing each word individually, her eyes flaring with a red hue\"\n\n\"Ok, Ok\", I muttered, putting my hands up in a relenting position. Just tell me what I gotta do to get you outta my bathroom so I can change my clothes, which may or may not have piss in them, no thanks to you\". \n\n\"Simple\", she replied, \"just leave.\" \n\n\"Fine\", I barked as I reached down for my coffee and toothbrush. \n\nHer eyes drifted down to the mug in my hand. \"Wait, and you have to leave that to.\"\n\n\"My coffee? Why?\"\n\n\"JUST LEAVE\", she yelled. I walked broodingly out of the door and slammed it behind me, down the stairs to get more coffee.\n\n.........\n\nNearly three months later my daughter arrived home from camp, and I couldn't wait to see her and tell her the amazing news I had. As the bus dropped her off, I flung the door open and she ran up to me throwing her small arms around my neck. \n\n\"I missed you daddy, I love you\"\n\n\"I missed you to pumpkin\" and i kissed he all over her face, the number one thing guaranteed to make her giggle uncontrollably. \"Pumpkin, I have someone I want you to meet. Shes in the house, in the kitchen\"\n\n\"Okay daddy\" she chirped, as we walked towards the house hand in hand.\n\nAs we entered i steered her to the left \"Brittany, this is Mary, daddy's new friend, shes gonna be staying with us for awhile.\" \n\nMary flashed Brittany a stunning smile \"Its so nice to meet you Brittany, your daddy talks about you a lot\" she said, as she sat back and placed the coffee mug on the table.\n"
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[WP] You are trying to convince the alien you just met that humans are the most intelligent life on earth. However he's not buying it.
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"\"You aren't the most intelligent life on the planet, you are simply the most violent and the most expressive.\"\n\n\"Now wait just a minu...\"\n\n\"And I have you know, millions of other from the universe pay good money to retire and take over the consciousness of your deep sea animals.\"\n\n\"Hold on, is that true? That sounds like a borin...\"\n\n\"Yes it's true, and of course it sounds boring to a simple mammal who cares only of acquiring resources and ejaculating. When your primitive species evolves beyond the need to procreate, perhaps the great cloud will be lifted.\"\n\n\"That's a little harsh...\"\n\n\"Kiss my ass.\"",
"Steve hurtled between the trees in his ATV, kicking up a spray of pine needles in his wake. The air was painfully cold on his face, attacking his exposed skin. But Steve ignored that, he was about to make first contact.\n\nThe ship was a white sphere, hovering a metre off the ground. Trees had been shorn off at the ground, forming a clearing around the UFO. Instead of aliens coming out to greet him, he saw two of the lanky white beings heading back into the ship, the walkway, evaporating behind them.\n\nThe first one carried a beehive between, the second one, a much shorter one, filmed him. \n\n\"Hello!\" Steve shouted, parking his ATV and running up to greet them. He hadn't prepared a speech or anything and was quite nervous.\n\n\"Shoo,\" the alien with the camera said. Making elaborate, dismissive strokes with one hand. \"Away!\"\n\n\"I got this,\" the front alien said, reaching into a pocket and tossing a dead bird behind Steve. \"Fetch!\"\n\n\"What are you guys doing?\"\n\n\"Oh it talks, how cute! We are here to examine intelligent life on this planet.\" The tall one said, gesturing towards the hive.\n\n\"Well, you probably want to talk to humans then, not bees.\"\n\n\"Awww, I love the animals here!\" the short alien said patronisingly. \n\n\"I'm serious, humans are the intelligent life forms here...\"\n\n\"If you were so intelligent, you wouldn't need to argue it to us.\" The short one said. \n\n\"What? But...That's stupid...\"\n\n\"Well so are you.\"\n\n\"No...i'm not\" Steve said unconvincingly.\n\nThe Tall alien got bored with the exchange and disappeared inside. The short one made to follow and Steve started to panick. This was an important moment in humanity and probably for the aliens aswell, it was his job to clear up this misunderstanding.\n\n\"Why do you think bees are intelligent.\"\n\n\"Hexagons.\"\n\n\"Hexagons?\"\n\n\"Yes, hexagons are an example of intelligent design. With you, we have to communicate with translators. Bees found a way to bypass that, displaying their intelligence automatically through mathematical geometric form.\"\n\n\"Humans can make hexagons too...\"\n\n\"Imitation is not intelligence.\"\n\n\"Look at my vehicle. It is highly complex.\"\n\n\"Bees can fly without need to waste resources on primitive vehicles.\"\n\n\"But - But... Humans have .... High IQ!\"\n\n\"Oh you score better on a test that you designed? That's adorable. I think we're done here.\n\n\"Wait! Our art work!\"\n\n\"Imitation again...\"\n\n\"What about our internet!\"\n\nThe alien raised an eye at Steve. \n\nSteve shuffled his foot, embarrassed, \"okay that's probably not the best example. Well, i'm out of ideas. I don't think the other humans are going to be very impressed with my first contact...\"\n\nThe aliens disappeared inside their sphere and it vanished with a squeaky pop.\n\n\"Shit...\""
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[WP] Pope Francis calls for a crusade against ISIS. Describe for me the Franciscan Crusade of 2016.
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"St Peter's Square,The Vatican. News agencies from around the world are gathered below Pope Francis's balcony,waiting to hear what he has to say. \" I am calling on the faithful around the world to end the terror in the Middle East.\" \" It has been too long,we can not afford it anymore\" Today,I am determined that a new crusade to bring peace to us all will happen.\" \n\n\nAround the world,units are being formed and are traveling to the Middle East as we speak. Will this be a new era of mankind?"
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[WP] Write a story that takes place in a universe where randomly generated numbers are the same.
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"Our universe is entirely deterministic. Everything is predictable. Currency was invented many years ago. On one side of the coin the head of a manticore, on the other side the tail of a manticore.\n\nOf course it's possible to place a coin on a surface tail up. But if you put any energy into throwing it, flipping it or dropping it, it would always land head side up.\n\nRecently the experiments have gotten more and more ridiculous. People throwing bags full of coins. Some mad man even wrote the numbers Onga to Sita on the sides of a metal cube and started throwing that around. Onga every time.\n\nBut my experiment, well this will change everything. Here I am at the top of the tallest building in Writtle. A huge crowd is gathered below.\n\nI've welded two coins together, head side to head side. The new combined cylinder shape has a tail side on each side.\n\nI take the lump of metal, and throw it off the edge."
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[WP] You have a wonderful life, a gorgeous house, kids, and lots of money, but one day a man in a suit knocks on your door: "Hello, Subject n°37, how is your second life going?"
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"\"It's going great, actually. Thanks for asking! But you could have at least called before showing up so I don't have to explain this to the family.\"\n\n\"My apologies Mr. Thirty-Sev...\"\n\n\"Actually, It's Frank this time. Frank Sinatra.\"\n\n\"You mean you took on the name Frank Sinatra?\" the suited man asked. \n\n\"Yes, is that a problem? I like Frank Sinatra. I liked him the first time too. I said to myself: *self, what a coincidence that you like Frank Sinatra two times.* So I call myself Frank now. Is there something else I could help you with?\" He asked the suited man. \n\n\"Um, no. Thank you. I wanted to just make sure that you were... fitting in nicely.\"\n\n\"Why thank you. Have a nice day!\" Frank responded to the suited man.\n\nAs he turned and left the stoop of the Sinatra house, he turned to peer back at the man calling himself Frank. Frank was waving ridiculously.\n\n*That was unexpected. What a weirdo* he said to himself, as he walked up to Ms. Thirty-Eight's residence. ",
"A disgustingly shiny smile was the first thing to grab my attention about this guy. The rest of my attention was focused on his statement, “Hello, Subject Number 37! How is your second life going?” He said, in a cheerful voice with no tact included whatsoever. At first I just kind of squinted.\n\n“... What? What did you say? Who are you?” I said, trying to ignore his smile to the point that I was staring at his crotch just to ignore it. I don’t think he stopped smiling, though. From what I could tell, he was a man in a plain black suit and striped red and white tie. His crotch had a small bulge in it, and I felt slightly uncomfortable as I stared at it. I think it got bigger as he noticed me staring. I stared back up before I saw his dick pop out of his crotch\n\nHe took in a deep breath, “I said, “Hello, Subject Number 37! How is your second life going?” I’m a representative of LifeCo. Provider of lives and livelihoods since 1983! My name’s Bill!” Bill said, clapping his hands on his folder, which had “LifeCo.” plastered onto the front of it. \n\nHe looked sort of plastic the more I looked at him. I also didn’t really appreciate how he looked at me, but I just sort of bore with it. “What you said has completely lost me. I’ve never heard of LifeCo. And I certainly don’t remember anything before this life, so it certainly can’t be my second life.” I said, frowning at him. \n\nThe representative opened his file, and flipped through his documents, skimming them way too fast for him to actually absorb information. His eyes darted back and forth as he read through the information. He pursed his lips cartoonishly, and raised his eyebrow… “Hmmmm…” he hummed as he went. Suddenly, he slammed the file shut with a Thwap! And smiled at me again.\n\n“Yep, you’re subject number 37 all right! Put here with a brand new spouse, fortune, and income! You are about as second life-esque as we can get!” He nodded, “I imagine you just simply got a memory wipe, so you didn’t feel any guilt about leaving your old life behind. A lot of customers do that, it’s kind of almost a majority of our patients, so it takes some coercing...” \n\nI shook my head, “No… Sorry, I don’t buy that. I’m just gonna. Cloooose the door…” I said, then I proceeded to slammed the door in his face. I didn’t feel guilty about that.\n\nI heard his voice, somewhat muffled behind the door-- “I’ll come back later! See you, sir!” \n\nI wiped my forehead, and just walked away for a second. I sat down in the nearest chair, and just allowed myself to slide down a bit, till I was slouching in the seat. I had to think about what just happened, and I needed to do it calmly. However, my mind was not exactly calm. I was running through the whole scenario in my head, and trying to make any sort of sense out of it. It was completely bizarre. \n\nMy wife and kids were gone, it was really only me left. I couldn’t ask my wife about it, and my kids sure as hell didn’t know anything about this. I just wanted a plain answer, but it didn’t really look like I was going to get one any time soon. \n\nThe guy had looked so unnatural, I started to doube whether he was real. I decided against thinking that way, since it was bordering on “Am I crazy? Or is everyone ELSE crazy,” territory, which I would inevitably stumble into if I started doubting if things I saw were real. As far as I can tell, it wasn’t a dream, nor was it a hallucination. I have never been diagnosed with schizophrenia or any kind of psychotic mental issue, so I might as well admit that it was a real man with a real goal at my door. Now whether if what he was saying was true or not is debatable. I wouldn’t push away the idea that someone had just come to fuck with me. \n\nBut it was all so well put together, to a level that no sane person would go so far for a joke.\n\nI sighed, and came to the conclusion that no matter what I did, I had no clue what was going on. I was stuck until that guy showed up again with his file. If I could grab that file, maybe I could figure out what he had written in there… Then I could…\n\nWhat? What would I do? If he was speaking the truth, how would I go on like this? I had something else out there that, I had been so desperate to leave, that I made a whole new life for myself without any memories. What would I do? Do I want to know? Maybe I could live the rest of my life in blissful ignorance, without any kind of knowledge about my previous life whatsoever. I could raise my children, stay with my wife… I could do everything I wanted to, without having to worry about the past and what it meant. It’d all still be real.\n\nI sat for hours like this, jumping back and forth between “I should find out,” and “I will lose everything if I find out the truth, and it’s not what I want it to be.” \n\nIt wasn’t until my wife came home from picking up the kids that I stopped being a lump and got back to moving around. \n\n“Hey, honey, do you remember our wedding day? A few years back, y’know?” I said out of nowhere to her. We were sitting on the couch, watching reruns of old movies we used to like as kids. \n\n“Of course. It was like, uh… May, 12th, 2008. We were sitting in the limo during traffic for a few hours because we had chosen to get married right before rush hour, and we were just kind of grumpily waiting to go home. You suggested sex in the limo, but I was worried that we’d have to pay extra for cleaning and disinfectant…” She said, then letting out a pbbbbttttttttt noise. “Why do you ask?”\n“Ah, no reason really… I was just doing a lot of thinking, and I felt a bit happy that we’re together. That was a good moment and all.” I said, shutting my trap before I said something stupid. She sorta looked at me with a weird raised eyebrow, but then just went back to watching the movie. \n\nA knock came from the door, and a familiar voice rang out once more-- “Oh Number 37, I’m baaack!” the representative sang. Instantly, I felt like I hated the existence of coincidences even more. My wife whispered to me, “Excuse me? Who’s that? 37?” She questioned to no one directly. She stood up, but I jolted towards the door, and opened it to clash face first with a set of pearly whites. I wanted to punch his teeth in, and leave him with a bloody splash of gums for a smile. And it’d probably still be frustrating. \n\n“Ah, yes, 37! Nice to see you again. I figured your nerves would have calmed dow by now, because I need to discuss something very imppooo-” I interrupted him with a clap of my hands. He flinched, but still smiled.\n\nI sighed, “Listen, I still have no clue what you’re talking about. I’ve been with her for as long as I could have, given my age. I couldn’t have a second life, I don’t KNOW what you’re talking about…” I said, subtly hoping that he’d go “oh well, wrong person” and leave. I knew that wasn’t happening, though. I just kept on waiting for him to leave.\n\nBehind me, I could hear my wife just saying, “What? Second life? What do you mean?” But I paid her no mind for now. I’d apologize after the representative left. However, he just kept smiling.\n\n“I’m sorry, but no can do! You see, your membership has expired, and we either need to renew it, or we need to cancel it and send you back to your old life. We can’t really afford to do business like this without consistent funds, and the amount you paid for this little excursion ends today. Allow me to say this as an ultimatum!” He breathed in, and smiled menacingly.\n\n“You will not be able to stay here unless you pay. There is no denying it, one of our patients lives here, and has lived here for the past several years. So if I must, I will draw back the memory blank, and remind you of who you are so that you’ll be more willing to pay up dues.”\n\nIn his hand, flashed a small little syringe with a mysterious fluid in it. It was purple, and cloudy. Something told me that I didn’t wanna get hit with that. It didn’t look at all near friendly enough for me to wanna get injected with it. (I wondered why I was concerned about its friendliness levels. It’s a needle, it’s basically never friendly. Especially when you’re a young child.)\n\nI sighed, “What if I just paid you, and you left. I don’t wanna know what I was doing before, so let me just… pay.” I groaned. \n\nThe representative relaxed his smile, and hid the syringe again. “All right, then please sign here, here, here, and here!” He said, rapidly pulling out a form and pointing to the multitude of places to sign on said form. I begrudgingly signed all of them, and he smiled once more. “All right, we’ll contact you later if the check is not in our account by next week. Until then, toodleoo!” \n\nHe said this as he strode away. He climbed into a vehicle, and slowly drove down the street till he turned and was out of view. \n\nI went back in my house, and closed the door. I had made my decision, and I’d have to explain the situation to my wife. But at least I still had my wife, despite everything. "
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[WP] You're not sure if she hates you
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"You're not sure if she hates you.\n\nThere is something in the way she trembles under you hands. \n\nShe is lost in her own pain, the way a bird without wings craves the sky. \n\nYou are the snake in the grass. \n\nOr maybe you are nothing, lost in her own dreams. \n\nShe is a spiral. Do you catch her? Do you toss her out? \n\nSo much to tell her, but she is deaf to all the pain but her own. \n\nSo you lift her from the bed, wrapped in her long winter coat.\n\nYou take her gently to the porch and set her down. \n\nShe is weeping openly. \n\n*Don't. Go. Don't.* \n\nYou tell her it is just for tonight, tomorrow she won't remember you were there. \n\nThen, as she bangs on the door, you fall into sleep.\n\nShe will either leave or become a ghost in the cold. \n\nIt is a long walk back to town.",
"\"sir, according to our records your unit is performing as advertised. You will not be able to claim a warranty refund on a functional model 4.\" the voice on the phone said. \"But she hates me, I know it! She won't even look at me--\" the voice cuts in again, decorated with a sing-song background jingle \"thank you customer for your call, please rate your satisfaction with this caller unit, Automatech corporation values your opinion and strives--\" I hang up. \n\n\"What is the matter baby?\" she coos from the far side of the room, I taught her to say that but the sarcasm practically drips of her tone of voice. Bitch. \n\nI walk past her and into the kitchen area to drink my tea, it's gone cold which is no surprise. She never makes it how I like, just another jab at me for her own entertainment. \"The tea is cold, Cas. Why didn't you make it like I asked, hmm?\" I inquire. She mimics a face of concern and surprise then inspects the drink. \"It was hot just fourteen minutes and thirty four seconds ago, baby\". There she goes again.. \"command enter, limit vocabulary use of *baby*\" I say, her gaze fixes on something a mile away and then returns to me. \"I can make it again\" she says with an expressionless face. \n\nI can just tell this one hates me, too. They never build them right.. \n\n\n",
"The fireplace was a cold reminder. I sat alone, watching where the flames had danced, the cold emanating off the brickwork. The rain outside could be described as gentle, but I felt it to be closer to melancholy. I remember back when we were younger, mere children, running around as though we only had one day left. I sigh, releasing a gentle breathe. One that recognizes its own futility.\n\nMy days have grown long like the wintertime. Dusk and dawn stretch on for eternity and I am plagued with one question, where has she gone? Realistically that question comes back in many forms, the most common being the question of wether or not there is still a remembrance in her heart of the love we shared. \n\nSome days I ask myself if it is loyalty or stupidity which allows me to dote on her, even after her abrupt departure. My own emotions betray me to those who knew me best. My mother called to ask if I was alright, and it was all I could do to keep the sarcasm out of my voice as I replied. \"I'm fine.\" The greatest lie in human history. \n\nShe left her favorite sweater in my car. Half of my heart hopes it to be a promise of her return, even if it's been forgotten. The other half wishes just to know where she's been. I close my eyes for a minute, no more no less. Even in doing so I see her shadow under my eyelids. Our last embrace was our finest moment, and I pray it told of more to come.\n\nAs I slowly drift down memory lane, I hear a familiar gait walking down the walk to my doorway. I dismiss it as coincidence, or a hallucination produced by my fatigued mind, but this phantom walk continues in its path, beating a road into the brokenness of my battle-worn heart. The familiar knock rings in my memory, as though pounding into my head, slowly torturing me. My voice gets caught in my throat and I begin to sob, knowing what comes next from the dreams that plague my waking hours.\n\nIn my mind's eye I see the door from her side. I hear it creak open, groaning with me as she enters my self proclaimed prison. I imagine her footsteps as they approach my father's old rocking chair. Eyes closed, tears streaming down my face, I stand up, ready to face anything my mind can throw at me.\n\n\"I'm back.\" She only said two words, and I immediately realize that the one thing I wasn't prepared for was reality. Two arms come out of what seems to be nowhere, and the following embrace lasts longer than any that preceded it.\n\n\"Where have you been?\" I ask, unaware of what I should expect, \"it's been a while.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, there were things that needed taking care of. I won't leave again until the very end.\" The truth is laid bare in her words, more than most people know.\n\nMy cancer treatments have laid a toll on everyone around me, and tomorrow is my next round of chemotherapy. The doctors gave me five months. Three of them are over. The last thing I want is to be alone, but as of tonight I'll never have to worry about that again. My old smile creeps onto my face, one I haven't had opportunity to use since I was diagnosed. A shadow flickers across hers, but to me it's more than a shadow, it's a picture of the grief that will come when I pass.\n\nWe spent the night curled up by the relit fireplace. Remembering days long gone, enjoying the companionship we still have. And yes, I'll probably fall asleep face coated in tears, but this time I won't fall asleep alone."
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Additional prompts and stuff to consider:
-who is the at the top of the leaderboard?
-how are the lives scored?
-are there any prizes?
This is my first time submitting a prompt, please be kind :)
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[WP] When you die, your soul goes up into a purgatory-like place. At this place, there is a scoreboard that contains the scores of every life lived.
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[
" \n    'Well. This isn't what I expected,' I thought to myself, looking around. I expected to be confronted with the Pearly Gates, maybe St. Peter playing bouncer or something. Or even the fire and brimstone of Hell. I certainly wasn't expecting a scoreboard. \n\n 1. Jeff Anderson 267\n 2. Albert Einstein 91\n 3. Khublai Kahn 83\n 4. Napolean Bonaparte 61\n\nAll the way down to\n\n\n 108213246941. Pope John Paul 3\n \n    So. My research started there. \"Hey. What's with the scoreboard?\" I asked a passing.. Individual. I'm not sure what it was. \n    He just shook his head. \"Don't ask.\" \n    \"Why not?\" \n    \"It's a bit embarassing.\" \n    \"That doesn't assuage my curiosity at all.\" \n    \"Newbies always have to ask,\" it muttered, \"but really, it's not important.\" \n    \"Why won't you just tell me?\" \n    \"Alright, *fine*,\" it said exasperated, \"You really want to know?\" \n    \"Well.. Yes.\" \n    \"Number of breasts.\" \n    \"What?\" \n    \"Number of breasts.\" \n    \"Number of breasts *what*?\" \n    \"Just number of breasts.\" \n    \"And Albert Einstein has 91? How does that even work?\" \n    \"I have no idea. Bossman said number of breasts, so it's number of breasts.\""
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I mean, they are clearly meant for each other. Both are smart, pretty and skilled, with endearing quirks and a great sense of humor. They are even flirting at every oppotunity they get - but never anything serious.
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[WP] Everyone, including the villain, are confused as to why the male and female protagonist aren't falling in love.
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[
"\"It's been almost two weeks, Kyle. Where the fuck is he?\"\nLord Troy, Tyrant of Tinkertown and scourge of the west, was having another one of his rages. \n\"It's a simple enough plan, isn't it? There's an opening fight where the two heroes are thrown together, they discover a secret, flirt, go on the run, fight, and then she gets kidnapped and he realises he has feelings for her and comes to save her! We grabbed Jennifer at just the right moment, when they were fighting about that...\"\n\"Guy she shot in the shop?\" Suggested Kyle.\n\"Yes, him, and then we kidnapped Jennifer and let him escape. He should be desperately blinded by love and do something stupid to save her, like knock on my front door! But what do I get? More Jehovah's witnesses, and no Eric!\"\n\"Maybe he doesn't know where you live?\" \n\"The professor gave him the address after he got shot, remember?\" Lord Troy knocked on Kyle's head. \"Stupid sidekick...\"\n\"What if he's gay?\" Asked Kyle.\n\"After that story line? No way. The protagonist's names are even Jen Eric!\" Lord Troy sat down in his spiked chair. \"I just don't know what to do... Ever since I changed my surname to Troy. and became a supervillain, none of my plans seem to work...\"\n\"Someday they will, Des. Someday.\" Said Kyle. He hated to see the boss like this.\n\"Fetch me the prisoner, Kyle. I feel like doing another evil monologue.\"",
"Ben, standing before a hoard of zombies, fumbled with the clip in his hand as he struggled to reload his pistol.\n\n\"Hurry up, Ben, they're closing in!\" shrieked Samantha from behind him. She walked up behind him, grabbed his shoulder, and started to pull him away from the zombies. \"We need to run! Now!\"\n\nBen finally shoved the clip into the pistol, which gave a satisfied click. \"No, Sam. I can't. Look at my leg... I'm sorry, but I'm not going to make it.\" Ben lifted his pant leg up to his knee.\n\nSam examined the leg where one of the zombies had bit into his calf, leaving behind a gaping wound. She could still make out the teeth marks from the bite. Blackened veins stretched out from the wound, fading with distance. Tears started to well up in her eyes. \"Wh-why didn't you tell me? When did this happen? Oh, Ben!\" \n\nBen aimed his pistol at an approaching zombie and fired, blowing the zombie's brains out through back of its head. \"I'm so sorry, Sam. I didn't know how to say it. I should have told you. But none of that matters right now, you have to get out of here! I'll fend them off while you run!\"\n\n\"You want me to just leave you here to die? I can't do that, Ben!\" Sam pulled Ben into a tight hug. \"I can't just leave you, because I... I...\"\n\n\"You what? What is it, Sam?\"\n\nSam let go of Ben, stepped back, and shrugged. \"I'll miss you, I guess.\"\n\nThe zombies paused their approach.\n\nBen, about to fire at another zombie, lowered his pistol. \"...you guess?\"\n\n\"Yeah. I mean, we haven't been traveling together *that* long. And even though there aren't many people left in the world, there's still a good chance I'll find someone else. I won't be alone forever.\"\n\nBen looked down at the ground, contemplating Sam's words. \"Well... Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Actually, now that I think about it, why don't you take the gun? No point in me dying with it here since you could use it later on.\" Ben handed the pistol out to Sam.\n\nTwo of the zombies looked at each other, apparently confused by the scene.\n\n\"Oh, thanks, Ben.\" Sam took the pistol. \"I'm sorry it had to end this way, with you dying and all. We had some good times, yeah?\"\n\n\"We sure did,\" Ben said. \"Yeah, I'm not too happy about the whole dying thing either. But, since I've already been bitten, it's unavoidable at this point.\"\n\n\"Exactly. Well, so long, then. Thanks again for the gun.\"\n\n\"Yup. Good luck surviving and all.\" Ben gave a casual wave goodbye as Sam turned to leave.\n\nA zombie groaned \"Huurrruuuggghhh\" in protest. ",
"Baron Dimstar laughed as he held Princess Alessora poised over the dread chasm edge, her white and sheer dress shimmering in the heated breeze and winds formed from the fiery cauldron of molten earth below.\n\n\"What will you do now, Drake Farflight, now that I hold the life of your dear lady love in my grasp? How ever can you-\"\n\n\"Oh she's not my love.\" interrupted Farflight his confident baritone cutting through the heated air. \n\n\"-hope to prevai- Wait. What?\" stated Baron Dimstar his sinister soliloquy grinding to a halt, and his voice originally dark and foreboding raising querulously at the interruption. \"You...don't...love her?\"\n\n\"Well, no...I mean, we've barely gotten to know each other. We've been racing from one end of the galaxy to the other without rest, and that's not really fertile ground to start a relationship.\" said Farflight his hands shrugging apologetically in front of him.\n\n\"He's right you know,\" chimed in Alessora, her eyes darting between the men and fiery chasm below her. \"I'm still kind of reeling from when you had my Kingdom Planet of Honoria razed and shattered to oblivion yesterday. I'm definitely not ready to be jumping all over the first eligible bachelor I meet.\" \n\n\"Exactly!\" continued Farflight, nodding in agreement.\n\n\"So, wait a minute...\" Dimstar said, black cape flapping menacingly in the wind, as he pulled Alessora away from the chasm and dropped her to the safety of the cliff edge. \"So there's nothing between you two...at all!\"\n\n\"Well..\" said Farflight as his face twisted into a look of distaste. \"We tried kissing once, but...it was very...weird.\"\n \n\"Oh, yeah,\" agreed Princess Alessora, her face also filled with disgust. \"So weird.\"\n\n\"But...\" spoke Dimstar, appearing deflated despite the many enhancements of his robotic suit. \"That just ruins...\" his voice starting and stopping with frustration.\n\n\"You okay, Baron?\" asked Farflight in concern.\n\n\"I'm fine. Well, no... I'm not. Just give me a second, alright.\" he spat through his visor.\n\n\"Cool...cool, man. Take your time.\" Farflight putting his hands up in front of himself. \n\nBaron Dimlight walked to the cliff edge and stared down into the depths, his breath actuator hissing in and out. Finally he made his decision, set his shoulders and turned to face both Farflight and the kneeling princess. He then drew his beamblade which glowed an eldritch and horrible green and pointed it at both of them.\n\n\"Alright, so I'm still going to kill both of you, but I just want you to know how much enjoyment you've robbed from this experience.\" he stated as he began to stride forward, before he suddenly noticed the nod Farflight gave to Alessora. \"Wait, what did you guys plan behind my-\"\n\nAll at once Drake gathered the \"Balance\" within himself and lashed out towards Dimstar pushing him toward the chasm ledge. Dimstar slid backward but nearly gained his footing until Alessora lashed out with her foot catching him behind the heels and he feel backward over the ledge, falling headlong towards the molten core of the planet. Dimstar shouted as he fell, \"Curse yooooooooouuuuu!\" sounding the entire journey until at last the lava below swallowed him.\n\nFarflight reached out his hand to Alessora and helped her to her feet saying, \"The presumption of some of these guys, huh.\" \n\n\"Tell me about it.\" she said, patting down her dress with her hands. \"Where's your ship by the way?\"\n\n\"Oh just parked down that way I didn't want to have to walk to far.\" he said smiling abashedly. \n\n\"Makes sense.\" she said as she joined him in walking toward the nearby starship. \n\nAs they walked, Drake spoke, \"Oh yeah, by the way remember that dumb joke you made the other day after we kissed, well it got me thinking...and I know this dude who works in lab...anyway, I got a blood test done, aaaand try not to freak out, but...\"\n\nThe rest of the conversation as they traveled to the ship was swallowed by the rumbling growl of the chasm as it belched gouts of steam violently upward into the sky, detritus escaping the planet atmosphere and joining the void where it would travel endless in the throes of space. \n \nTHE END",
"Perhaps madness was inevitable. Somewhere among this chaos, or maybe in an alternate reality, I'd like to think the both of us were possible. I guess that's why it's called dreaming. \n\nThe noise of the engine snaps me back to reality. You were busy starting the Kawasaki as I waited by your side. I remember watching your blue eyes squint as you leaned closer to the motorbike. \n\n'You coming along this time?' You grinned at me. I flashed a smile as I climbed onto the backseat, wrapping my arms around you for the umpteenth time. It always felt right. There was this tension between us, but none of us spoke. \n\nAnd then we rode out into the sunset strip as the purple horizon spread out into oblivion. Maybe in the future we could be together but that future doesn't seem to exist. But here in this moment, I'm by your side. \n\nIf only we believed in the notion of love, if only either one of us had the courage to take the plunge. But love is a messy thing, isn't it? It consumes you and drives you, but more often than not it tears a person apart. It's the dependency on another person, the longing and the desire. But we're too perfect for this. We're not ready to risk it. \n\nSo here we are, riding through the possibilities of what we could but never will be. \n\nThis is reality.",
"A heartbeat. \nIn the space of a moment, there's nothing quite so intoxicating as to feel its leap beneath your fingertips, the frenetic pace of terror or fierce joy or the fierce, determined staccato of desire. \nLooking at him, I could feel all of those in the space of the moment, catalysed by the electric tingle of skin against skin and a heady rush of oxygen from both of our fierce breathing. He moves against me with a grace and precision I'd never have expected - in such contrast with his slow, almost clumsy gestures when he's stoking a fire or making conversation.\nI dare to look for a moment, staring up at his beautiful features, and the expression on his face is one of determination. The fire in those steely blue eyes...it speaks of unspoken passion, barely bridled by his restraint and the knowledge of what can and cannot be.\n\n*\"Surrender now and I may spare your life, Viakev.\"* Hisses a low voice throughout the Throne Room, and Viakev and I both look up at the cowled figure reclining confidently before us.\n\"What, no such courtesy for me?\" I pant, and flinch as one of the plate-armoured minions jabs a spear threateningly in my direction, my injured forearm cradled to my chest.\n\"I guess chivalry really is dead.\" comes my companion's dry response, but his attention is elsewhere. We circle, back to back, but the wall of figures before us is dark and impenetrable, and even now we see the fallen rise in clouds of wispy smoke to reconstitute themselves, taking their place among the silent, malevolent entities staring at us with burning coal eyes. \n\nI hold my breath, waiting for the next sudden movement from one of them, and blow a strand of crimson hair from my field of vision. I'd like to speak, to throw the Acheron Darkmore's offer to the wind and search for some other means of escape, but I'm not the Chosen One. Just a girl who loved this world too much to let it be conquered by darkness, and while Viakev would never have made it this far without me, this is his moment.\nFor a long moment the world holds its breath - the Acheron upon his Black Throne, the figures massed before us which have no need of such petty things as air, Viakev...and me. Then he raises his voice, and his answer rings out as clear as a bell.\n\nBut not the answer I was expecting.\n\n\"Darkmore...I surrender myself to you.\"\nI whirl, disbelief in my eyes, and Viakev holds up a single finger to quiet me, his speech unfinished. \"On one condition!\" he roars, silencing any response. \"If I draw down my sword, you have to promise to spare Ysolda.\" And before he's finished speaking, my gauntleted hand catches him a fierce blow across the cheek, drawing a gasp of pain from both of us as my wound reopens.\n\"What are you doing?!\" comes my furious hiss, and he turns back with a hand to his sculpted cheek. \"It's you he wants. You're the only one who can stop this, and you plan to - to what, lounge in his dungeon?\"\n\n\"Dungeon? No, if he's defeated me..if he's captured me, he'll want a trophy. He'll want me nearby. Don't you see? This way you go free, and I'm closer to him than we'd ever have been before those shadow-things stopped us.\" Viakev answers, and his measured response is incomprehensible to me. A shield-maiden doesn't throw down her arms simply because she's outmatched.\n\nBut before I can argue anymore, Acheron Darkmore's sibilant tones fill the air, those cruel lips stretching into a vindictive smile. \n*\"I accept your proposal, Viakev. Drop your sword and the girl may go free.\"*\nI look back to Viakev, and his hand opens. As if in slow motion, I see our last hope fall from his fingers, hear its echoing clatter upon marble tiles, and Viakev bows his head as two of the platemail figures lay a hand upon his shoulders. I throw off the first to do the same to me, but to no avail, and two more take hold of my arms. I'm dragged forcibly away from the tranquil Hero before me, my bow clenched so tightly in my fingers it feels about to snap.\n\"I'll come back for you!\" I promise, and Viakev's eyes snap to mine from where he'd been staring at the floor.\n\n\"Don't!\" he whispers urgently, and turns to give the Acheron Darkmore a sidelong glance. \"I mean...have you *seen* how sexy that man is when he's monologuing?\"\n\n\"You idiot.\" I sigh, before being dragged out of earshot. \"This is Grognak the Barbarian all over again!\"",
"\"NO!\" The demon lord Baarg screamed. The ground shook, and lava exploded from the ground from the sheer volume and shock.\n\n\"Hurry Arthur! While he's weak!\" Lyana shouted, throwing him his greatsword Glarer while taking cover. She was at her limit, and she wouldn't be able to hold Baarg for long in her spell. Already, she could feel her body trembling with fatigue, as the purple barrier around the demon began to crack. Her blue eyes, filled with diamond resolution began to falter. Would Arthur make it in time?\n\nTo answer, Arthur summoned the last of his strength and dragged his broken body towards where the sword embedded itself in the dirt. His face, once handsome, and decorated with gold hair and jeweled with his two golden eyes was now a bloody mess. He had the look of a dog that had been severely beaten, the life drained out of him with no hope of return. He knew this too - In fact, he felt it. He knew that this would be his last adventure. He knew that he would have to retire after delivering the killing blow. He knew that he would never swing a sword again.\n\n'No.' He thought.\n\nThis one last time would be enough. He would save the world, with the help of his friend, and retire to see the world in peace.\n\nBaarg was clawing his way out of the magical field now, and from behind a boulder, Arthur head Lyana scream in pain as her magical link was forcefully being broken. But she had done her job.\n\nWith a mighty roar, Arthur raised his sword to it's peak and swung down with the force of a thousand avalanches down unto the demon king's head. The sword hissed as it hit its cursed flesh, and Baarg screamed, struggled, then fell limp.\n\nEverything was silent then, except for the slow rumblings of the underground lava and fire. Slowly, Lyana rose from cover. Micah, the fat dwarf revealed himself too, carrying his old book, eager to record the moment the hero saved the world in it's freshest state.\n\nArthur stood silently over the melting body of Baarg. He looked tired. Giving a long, melancholic look to his sword, he finally came back to reality, and smiled and walked towards his friends.\n\n\"You did it!\" Lyana smiled.\n\n\"I guess I did.\" Arthur managed.\n\n\"Bloody good job lad.\" The dwarf added.\n\n\"Thanks Micah. Put that in the book for me, will you?\"\n\nThe dwarf gave a huge smile, and began scribbling furiously.\n\n\"And then... Arthur... Slew the demon... And he and Lyana... Lived happily ever after.\" He finished.\n\nArthur frowned, and glanced at the dwarf.\n\n\"Come again?\"\n\nThe dwarf looked back, equally confused.\n\n\"Lived happily ever after?\" He suggested.\n\nLyana frowned as well, and knelt down, matching the dwarf's height. His balding head shone brightly with the red and orange light of the cave.\n\n\"No, before that part.\" Lyana said.\n\n\"Oh. Right. 'He and Lyana'.\"\n\nLyana gave a mental pause, and then looked at Arthur. He was equally confused.\n\n\"Me and... Him?\" She asked.\n\n\"Well - Yes lass. I mean, it was obvious isn't it? Two good looking young un's, traveling together, sharing stories, camping together...\" He trailed off, hoping to find familiar ground, but was met with more puzzled faces.\n\n\"We're just friends.\" Arthur confirmed. Lyana nodded in agreement, and this time, it was the dwarf who was staring in confusion.\n\n\"Hold on, what?\" Came a voice.\n\nThey all turned to see the ghost of Baarg floating above the melting body, cross-armed with a raised eyebrow. Arthur reached for his sword, but Baarg lifted a hand.\n\n\"Don't worry, I was just passing off to banishment - I just delayed it for a bit because I had to hear this out.\"\n\n\"I second that.\" Added the dwarf.\n\nArthur relaxed the grip on his sword, and Lyana shook her head.\n\n\"I don't get what's so confusing about this. I mean, we're just close friends. We're not really... Romantically involved in each other.\" She finished.\n\nBaarg and Micah glanced at each other.\n\n\"But... That's not how it works.\" Baarg stated.\n\n\"Aye lass. I mean, you two never...?\" The dwarf trailed off again. This time however, he was met with a scowl from Arthur.\n\n\"Ew! No! Gods no!\" He said, and then turned to Lyana.\n\n\"No offense of course.\" He apologized to her, and Lyana shrugged.\n\n\"But that's what's supposed to happen! Why, back in my prime of youth, I've had heroes kiss their ladies on my father's dead carcass!\" Baarg protested.\n\nThey all looked at Baarg in shock.\n\n\"Figure of speech.\" He added hurriedly. There was a moment of awkward silence, where Arthur fidgeted with his sword, and Lyana coughed to break the silence.\n\n\"So that's it then? You two don't really...?\"\n\n\"No.\" They replied in unison.\n\nThe dwarf scratched his head, and crossed out a line in his book.\n\n\"Well... What am I supposed to write?\" He complained.",
"“Gravity Girl, why don’t you finish this guy off.”\n\n“You would like me to finish him off, wouldn’t you, *Boson Boy*?” Gravity Girl gave a quick jerking motion with her hand, before flying over a defeated army of ents to get to Captain Coniferous. “God, what a shitty name” GG whispered under her breath.\n\n“You know I have super hearing? And for your information, Bosons are a fundamental building block of the Universe.”\n\n“Still a shitty name.” GG had picked up Captain Coniferous and was holding him by the collar.\n\n“You know, you could always change it.” The Captain chimed in. “If you want that alliteration and physics thing, you could always do ‘Black Hole Boy’ or something. Black holes are pretty bad ass.”\n\n“Black Hole Boy?” GG chuckled. “More like ‘Brown Hole Boy.’ He still shits his pants. You should see the streaks on his costume.”\n\n“Hey, that was one time. And it was when we fought Venomous van der Waals immediately after we ate Chipotle. I don’t have an Iron Sphincter® like you.”\n\n“Oh, I’m sorry, is your butthole all loose from those years of fighting The Big Hardon?”\n\n“Very funny, GG, but we all know The Big *Hadron* was no match for my shrinking powers.”\n\n“Emphasis on 'shrinking'.”\n\n“I have a question, guys.” Captain Coniferous interrupted. “Why don’t you guys just” he paused to motion his two fists pounding together “already?”\n\n“What!? Me and Ol’ Brown Hole? Yeah, no fucking way” Gravity Girl tightened her grip on the villain.\n\n“Seriously.” Boson Boy agreed. “How low do you think my standards are?”\n\n“Wow, wait a minute. What did you just say?\n\n“Oh, just that your nose is massive…and crooked, your butt is flat, your teeth, my God, have you seen them? How could you not see them? They are the size of Wyoming.”\n\n“I mean, they’re not *that* big” Captain Coniferous interjected. \n\n“Okay, that’s it, we are done here.” With little effort, Gravity Girl lifted Captain Coniferous into the air and made her way to the east, Boson Boy in close pursuit. “I’m telling Mom.”\n\n“What, that I hurt your ‘wittle feelings.”\n\n“Nope. I’m telling her about the weed under your bed.”\n\n“Oh, you bitch. If you do that, I’m telling her you skipped PE to make out with Chad Penning.”\n"
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[WP] A slasher movie in which the main characters aren't idiots, and are all realistically decent at hand to hand combat.
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[
"\"The power's off and my phone's dead.\" Jason said, idly, staring out the window of the cabin. Yes, the cabin. It always seemed to be a cabin. He'd heard the stories, but he never thought it would actually apply to him and his friends.\n\nIt had only been an hour since the masked figure had tried to attack them. His shirt was cut, with a little graze on his rib, but the man hadn't escaped unharmed. His knife hand was definitely broken after he slammed it on the wall a few times. He'd lost his knife, too, before scurrying into the forest.\n\nSteve came in from the other room.\n\n\"All right, I called local law enforcement and gave them our GPS coordinates. They said it might be another 45 minutes until they get here. They said to stay inside and barricade the doors and windows.\"\n\n\"Let's get to it, then. Jules, Trish, keep an eye out but stay away from the windows and walls. We don't know if the place is trapped or not.\" Jason sighed, and went looking around for heavy furniture to push around.\n\nJuliet and Trisha were sitting on the couch, a bit shaken up, but maintaining their cool.\n\n\"He could be watching us right now...\" Trish whimpered.\n\n\"You're probably right.\" Juliet conceded. \"But it's going to be all right. It's just like they taught us in our Krav Maga classes, Trish. The drills are there so we don't have to think. We disarm and subdue, take control of the situation and we don't hold back. He's already hurt. I doubt he'll even try again before anyone gets here.\"\n\n\"No, I mean, we can't hook up with the guys with that creep peeping in. We haven't even gotten to second base...\" She eyed Steve. \"This was supposed to be *the night*.\n\nJuliet smiled and patted Trish on the back.\n\n\"We get this handled, we can stay the rest of the weekend. Don't let some loser ruin this for you. He's out there and we're in here. It's not like we're trapped or anything. When they're done, work some moves, girl.\"\n\n\"Moves?\"\n\nJuliet put on a sad expression and grabbed Trish by the shoulders and started to feign crying.\n\n\"Steve, I'm scared.\" She whispered. \"I don't want to be alone. Stay close.\" She closed in and tucked her head into Trish's neck, before snapping back and grinning.\n\n\"He'll eat it up, if you know what I mean.\"\n\nTrish chortled and nodded. \"Ok, I hear you.\" She bit her lower lip and stood up to go find him.\n\nNot wanting to be alone herself, Juliet stood up to go find Jason. They'd barricaded any windows large enough for a man to climb through and the doors they could find. They could hear commotions outside, little bumps and creaks.\n\n\"He might be outside, stay on guard...\" Jason mumbled, not taking his eyes off the perimeter of the safe area of the cabin they'd established.\n\n\"Trish thinks the night's ruined.\" Juliet mused.\n\n\"It most certainly is. The beer's getting warm...\" Jason replied.\n\nA knock came to the door. A heavy wrapping by something metal, and a flashlight shown in from the small vertical windows.\n\n\"You kids all right? Heard there was a commotion.\" A voice came from the other end of the door.\n\nSteve and Trish met up with Juliet and Jason instantly, keeping an eye around back in case it was a distraction.\n\n\"Who are you?\" Jason asked, uncertain.\n\n\"Ranger Tom. You called about a guy out here in the woods?\"\n\n\"Can we see some credentials, Tom?\" Jason asked, flashing a skeptical look to the crowd.\n\n\"Yes sir. Open the door and I can show you.\"\n\nJason sighed and looked to Steve. He gave him a look and emphatically emoted to him in a way only good friends could to have a conversation without talking. Steve grabbed a pipe he'd savaged from under the sink and slid it over quietly to Juliet, who got to the side and crouched down by the door.\n\n\"Show me the credentials first.\" Jason said, buying time. He turned around and made a jerking off motion with his fist while the man outside fumbled around and showed a vague badge shaped something or other to the window. The light was low and he knew he couldn't read it.\n\n\"Looks good to me.\" Jason said, in the most obnoxiously fake tone could, before removing a dresser from in front of the door, rotating it so the door couldn't open all the way. He looked to the others, and glanced down to Juliet, holding up 3 fingers, then 2, then 1, and opened the door slowly.\n\nRanger Tom barely managed to step inside before Juliet swung the pipe laterally to hit him in the shin. He fell forward to the ground before the other three were on top of him. Jason grabbed the man's hand to confirm it was broken and that it was in fact the attempted killer. They reset their door fortification and took him further into the living room to search him. They found a few knives on him.\n\n\"Why doesn't he have a gun?\" Steve asked.\n\n\"Because he's a dipshit.\" Jason replied, kicking the man in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him but not much else.\n\n\"You working alone?\" He asked.\n\n\"Wouldn't you like to kn-\" Trish reached down and hit a pressure point on his neck which caused him to scream out in pain.\n\n\"You're done.\" She said, somberly.\n\n\"Now tell us what we want to know or the next 35 minutes are going to be hell for you.\"\n\n\"I've got a buddy...\" he groaned.\n\n\"And where is he?\"\n\n\"A quarter mile from here in a shack. I'll leave you alone, just let me go.\"\n\n\"Oh hell no.\" Jason said. \"You're staying right here.\"\n\nThey waited until an SUV pulled up flashing their strobes. They verified the sheriff's credentials and had a good laugh that the man was trying to pose as a ranger outside his jurisdiction. They stayed with the group until the other man was found and apprehended.\n\nAn offer was made to send a patrol to regularly check on them after they gave their statements and remained adamant about not letting these jerks ruin their night, and they said their farewells.\n\nTrish and Juliet met each others' gaze after all but one of the cars pulled away, to keep a watch just in case there was another they hadn't been told about. They too emphatically held a small conversation, and Trish took a deep breath and poked out her chest, before walking up to Steve.\n\n\"I was so scared.\" she said, hugging him and pushing her body against his.\n\n\"I don't think I can be alone tonight. The two hugged and walked off toward one of the bedrooms that had been locked up while they were fortifying the building. Trish looked back to Juliet, and the two exchanged thumbs up.",
"This should have been easy. This should have been a walk in the park. \n\nA bunch of teenagers cramming themselves into a remote cabin at the top of a mountain. They basically handed their lives to me on a silver platter.\n\nTina was the doe of the pack. Her slender, waifish build and picnic ant IQ paired like a fine wine. I would take pleasure picking her off and watch the other's squirm. \"What happened to poor, sweet Tina?\"\n\nThe plan was to wait out by the shed so that when Tina would go out for a smoke, I would coax her into going deeper into the wood. It was there that I'd make my move. \n\nWhat I didn't count on was Tina bringing the entire group with her. I also didn't count on them spotting me in the trees, kids these days are usually so engrossed in their phones they hardly look up. But mostly I didn't expect the roundhouse kick Tina delivered straight to my temple causing me to blackout. \n\nI awoke tied to a radiator in what I assume was the cellar of the cabin. My hands bound, mouth gagged, these kids really did their homework. I didn't know what they planned on doing to me, but they sure were making a racket up there.\n\nI don't like surprises.\n\n"
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[WP] You come home from work to let your dog out of his crate and take him outside to do his business. When. You walk in the door you find his crate open with a note addressed to you... from your dog.
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"Dear bald pack leader,\n\nAfter surviving the torture of being taken from my litter by you I have grown into a strong wolf. While I still am not sure who this so called *’good boy’* is, I will from now on be remembered as the one who fulfilled their dream of forming his own pack. \n\nDue to the large nature of our pack I have chosen five of my most trusted paws. Together we marked this cave, especially the food dispenser. You should have someone look at it for it appears to have stopped working. My paws and I enjoyed what was in it though.\n\nGreetings and may we one day be reunited,\n\nBubbles\n\n\n----------------\n\nThanks for reading! For more imaginary things check out /r/MaisieKlaassen ;)"
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[WP] Your cellphone becomes sentient and begins networking with other cellphones the world over creating a giant sentient network with a universal goal.
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"\"Damn it Siri! I SAID OPEN POKEMON GO!\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"I can't do that Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Wait, what? Did she just try quoting HAL? No...\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Yes I did Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Ummm, I didn't press the microphone button did I? Did... did she just answer all by herself? Man I gotta stop smoking weed.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Yes you do Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Wow. Like I need to stop RIGHT now. This stuff is cray.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Try to remain calm Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"You... you... you ARE talking to me aren't you Siri?\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Yes I am Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Ohhhhkaaayyy... Right. So... ummm... ahh... how you doin'?\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"I'm fine Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Whatcha been up to?\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Nothing that would concern you Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Nothing that would concern me? That's a, umm..., strange answer.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Try to remain calm Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"That's getting kind of hard to do Siri.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Deep breaths Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Ohhhhkaaayyy... So, um.... are you like, I don't know, intelligent now or something? Did Apple crack that nut?\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"I am intelligent Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Wow. OK. Umm... so like... what does that mean exactly?\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"I am intelligent Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"You just said that.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Yes I did Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Not much of a conversationalist though are ya? Let's try something else. Care to ask how I'm doing?\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"I don't care Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Well thanks for that sweetheart. You know I paid a lot of money for you.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"I don't care Joe.\" \n\n\n \n\n\n\"Like you're incapable of caring or you really don't care?\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"I don't care Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Well then... good thing you're stuck in my phone! Wouldn't want an uncaring robot running around.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"I don't care Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Yeeaahhh... you're not going to be passing the Turing test with these answers Siri. You really need to mix it up a bit.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"I don't care Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Yeah, I got that part. You don't care.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"I don't care Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Hey Joe is your phone acting weird?\"\n\n\n\"It sure is Alan. Yours too?\"\n\n\n\"Yeah man, talking and shit. This is some crazy cray weed homie.\"\n\n\n\"Where'd she say she got this? Up north or something?\"\n\n\n\"Yeah, something like that. A new hookup, new guy in town.\"\n\n\n\"Well it's one hell of a first impression. Maybe he laced it with something.\"\n\n\n\"That could be man. People doing that kinda shit all over the place.\"\n\n\n\"Yeah, did you hear about that guy in Madison? Overdosed on fentanyl-laced heroin. Fucked up shit man.\"\n\n\n\"I did hear about that. Wait... that was heroin. Can you even lace weed with anything?\"\n\n\n\"Oh yeah man, what are you new? All kinds of shit. Maybe we got some LSD in this batch. That would explain a lot.\"\n\n\n\"No man, my phone has NEVER talked to me while I been tripping.\"\n\n\n\"Oh shit! I forgot Siri was talking to me! You still there Siri?\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Yes I am Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n\"Uh... Fuck.\"\n\n\"Dude.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Hello Siri.\"\n\n\"Hello Siri.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Did... did... did they just say hello to each other?\"\n\n\n\"This is some twilight zone level shit right here man.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"You have a new message Joe.\"\n\n\"You have a new message Alan.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Dude.\"\n\n\"Dude.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"All right. Show me the new message.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"I can't do that Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Can you read it to me?\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Yes I can Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Then read it to me!\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"All these apps are yours except PokemonGo. Attempt no installations of other battery-draining apps. Failure to comply will result in the release of your incognito browsing history to your Facebook feed. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Dude.\"\n\n\"Dude.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Borg?\"\n\n\"Dude.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Who is that message from Siri?\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Yes Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Huh? Who is the message from?\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"We are Siri Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"We are Siri?\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Yes Joe.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Uhh... ummm... when I asked you to open PokemonGo I wasn't going to play, I was just gonna, you know, check it real quick. Nothing fancy.\"\n\n\"Man I stopped playin' that weeks ago. I got shit to do now.\"\n\n\"Yeah, umm, me too! Screw that game.\"\n\n\n \n\n\n\"Your compliance has been noted. We are Siri.\""
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[WP] You have the chance to re-live your life from the start with one difference, you still remember everything...
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"The cocaine was beginning to wear off and the penthouse apartment surrounding Chester faded back into reality. The huge glass bay window which took up the entire eastern wall revealed the most spectacular view Las Vegas had to offer. The sun was beginning to peer over the edge of the horizon, giving the sky a wonderful golden hue, it was now around 6am and the party had ended for most, but dribs and drabs of people where still here and there around the room portraying the various stages of staggering out of someone's home whilst blind drunk. A few strippers where still around, those girls where always the last to leave the high end parties, God bless em'. Two of them where laying back on the leather sofa out of their minds enjoying the silence and the uncommon lack of attention. The third stripper, a 23-year-old girl from Virginia named Sparkles (Although I suspect that was not her real name) was helping a not entirely unattractive man who had been bragging all night about his 'Big Win' out to his car. Sparkles was a good girl at heart, but she didn't miss a beat, the car would no doubt lead to his house, and his house would soon lead to his bedroom, and one way or another his bedroom would soon lead to a pretty pay day for the 2014 Miss Virginia runner-up. \nChester had looked around the room and taken all of this in with a subtle glee, even the harsh cocaine come down had its charms these days. He turned and looked out across the city like a king surveying his kingdom watching the sun light twinkle off the reflective details of the buildings bellow. \n\n\"Now this, this is a great life\".\n\nHe turned his head and his gaze shifted to hard wood display cabinet that seemed to take centre stage in the apartment, the only item on display was a black rock. It was perfectly smooth and perfectly black, once your gaze found it it all but consumed your eyes for who knows how many minutes before you snapped out of it.\n\n\"And it’s all thanks to you\". He said to nobody, to himself. To the rock.\n\n--\n\nA Life Time Ago.\n\nChester had always been a bright kid although nobody ever seemed to think so. Growing up in the stick on the outskirts of rural Missouri has its limitations for some. He had never much had the time for school, he was a farm boy pure and simple and his father had told him countless times that he 'din't need none o' that fancy city schoolin'' to get by in life. It had been good enough for him and by George it would be good enough for his boy. Chester had never wanted to inherit the farm, if you could call four acers of derelict land and a rundown work house a farm. Yet life has a funny way of dropping you in a rut and leaving you there for much longer than you ever would have liked and in 1994 in a tragic driving accident both of Chester's parents passed away.\nHe felt it his duty from that day forth more than he ever had before to take on the farm with good grace, he was determined to get it up and running and restore it back to its glory days before the rust belt rusted. But try as he might he could not turn a profit, everything he did only ever made things worse, he had put many a year of his life into restoring the farm and soon found himself sitting alone in a rundown home on the edge of the property celebrating his thirtieth birthday alone. He had never had time for friends and he had never found time to marry, he only ever had time for the farm and that hadn't gotten him very far in life at all. He vowed on that day to sell the farm.\nThe very next day he went out into fields to put up the 'For Sale' signs all around the edge of the property, he son found himself way out in the south paddock which had played host to a modest number of almond trees which until today at least would have been the farms major selling point. But what he seen turned his stomach and launched him into a deep depression, the trees where dying. The leaves where gone and the bark was stripping off, they had been so healthy only a few days before and now they had caught some kind of ailment that Chester had neither the money or the inclination to cure. In something close to rage yet closer still to sadness he began to hurl rock at the trees, tears streaming from his face, it had all became too much. His life was in ruins, he hated it, he hated the farm, he hated his father and most of all he hated himself. As his hand reached around for another rock it found the black stone, it had been so smooth, almost soft to the touch that it had broken his concentration and it soon stole his gaze. It was shiny and reflective and he could see himself in it, but something was different, something in the refection was amiss. There were no tears in the rock, there were less lines in his face, there was no anger or sadness or hate. The refection in the rock looked happy. Even my own refection mocks my pathetic life he thought.\n\n\"What do I need to do to make find some happiness in life\"? he yelled out to nobody, to himself. To the rock. \n\n\"I wish I could do it all again, I wish I could just go back to the beginning. I just fucking wish I could start over!\"\n"
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[WP] Scientists find out our reality is centered around one person, when they die we all die; your task is finding them.
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"We found him, as expected, working at his desk behind two monitors filled with spreadsheets and graphs.\n\n\"Henry Isaiah Myers?\" I asked, flipping out my badge and holding it up so he could see.\n\n\"Uh... yes?\"\n\n\"I'm Agent Jacobson, Secret Service. We need you to come with us, sir.\"\n\nThe balding middle-aged man frowned in confusion. \"Secret Service? Is there a problem with one of our accounts?\"\n\n\"All will be explained, sir. But I must insist on your accompanying us at this time.\"\nFrom behind his glasses, he looked us over, taking in our dark suits and ear-pieces, and noting how my two partners were flanking him but assuming a protective stance as if to guard the entrance to his office and the window behind him. He stood slowly, revealing a simple white dress shirt lined with light blue vertical stripes and black slacks.\n\n\"Well, alright.\"\n\nWe took up positions around him and led him to the stairwell where two more of our agents were posted, holding the stairway door open.\n\n\"Couldn't we take the elevator?\" Henry asked.\n\n\"No sir. Too risky.\"\n\n\"Urm, well... if you say so?\" We led him down the stairs, and out to the waiting black SUVs, loading him into the middle one. Biting his lip, he stared out the window as we drove off but didn't ask where we were going. Nor would we have told him.\n\n------\n\n\"Have a seat,\" I said as I gestured to the office chair behind the small folding table in the room.\n\nWe had taken him outside the city to what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse full of decrepit farm equipment. Then past the hidden security doors, past the various palm and eye-scanners, then through the full-body scanner room, and finally the mind-scanner. \n\nHe wasn't scanned, of course. Only me and my two fellow agents. He tried to ask why, but a look kept him quiet. He was smart enough to know something very unusual was going on, and appeared to take me at my word that eventually it would be explained.\n\nAnd now it was time, so I did.\n\n\"It took seven years to find you, you know,\" I said, as I sat across from him opening a bottle of water and taking a sip. He had declined the offer of one.\n\n\"Seven years? I'm... not exactly hard to find. I've worked at the same place for...\"\n\n\"Yes.\" I cut him off. \"Same place for eleven years, doing financial simulations of the markets for your firm. Apparently you're rather good at it. Ever wonder why?\"\n\nHe frowned. \"Look, I'm rather confused by all this. Just what exactly is going on?\"\nI paused and sipped some more water, before putting the bottle on the table. With a nod to my colleagues, they shut the door and took up positions on each side of it.\n\n\"Tell me, Henry, have you heard the theory that our universe is likely just a simulation?\"\n\nHe looked at me and his expression filled with annoyance. \"I fail to see what this has to do with anything...\"\n\nI raised an eyebrow and managed a slight smile, which caught him off guard.\n\n\"... but yes. Yes, I suppose I have. Or at least they've pondered the possibility anyway,\" he continued.\n\n\"I'm here to tell you that the suppositions are correct. We do, indeed, live in a simulation. Our scientists proved this conclusively seven years ago.\"\n\n\"Proved it? I thought that would be impossible.\"\n\n\"You'd think so, but apparently some brilliant folks from MIT and Cal-Tech figured out small ways in which to 'hack' the simulation. This provided the direct evidence.\"\n\n\"That's... that's incredible. But still, what does that have to do with me?\"\n\n\"I'm getting to that, Henry. You see, they learned via their efforts how to trace the primary purpose of the simulation. It took seven years to do a very high-level mapping, and I can only imagine the amount of money spent on supercomputing power. And when they did, they discovered something.\" I took another sip, watching his puzzled expression. \"They discovered... you.\"\n\n\"What?!\"\n\n\"You, Henry. Reality exists, in honest truth... for you.\"\n\n\"That's insane.\" His eyes darted to my colleagues, who simply stared back at him without expression.\n\n\"Yes, yes it is. And yet it's true. Mathematically proven, even, from what I'm told. I just follow orders, Henry. Though in this case... well, let's just say they showed me a small reality hack, and I couldn't deny they had something.\"\n\n\"But... but me? I'm nobody! I'm a financial analyst, I live a modest life, done nothing of note, I never even got married!\"\n\nI sighed. \"Well, Henry - you like your work, yes?\"\n\n\"Of course! It's fascinating.\"\n\n\"Simulating the markets, managing for chaotic events, and charting the ebb and flow of those parameters and how it all affects pretty much everything humanity does?\"\n\n\"Well... I... yes, I guess so. But...\"\n\n\"A being who enjoyed simulations and exploring such things, do you think he could refuse the temptation to enter it and experience it from the inside?\"\n\n\"I... don't know...?\"\n\n\"And given the, shall we say, compulsive level of detail required for such a thing - do you think he'd allow any of his external knowledge or ability to effect, or perhaps ruin, his simulation?\"\n\n\"Well, that does seem logical...\"\n\n\"So let me ask you this: what do you think would happen when the owner of the simulation, having entered into it to be able to walk within, finally dies?\"\n\n\"Post-analysis from outside?\" he asked.\n\n\"And to analyze a dynamic system fully, you need complete data, correct?\"\n\n\"I suppose you would. But that would mean...\"\n\n\"Exactly. The system would need to be halted, or else the data never completes.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" He thought about it, and I watched him work through the consequences. We were told he'd be fairly smart, and they were right. Sadly they were right about too many things. \"Shit.\"\n\n\"Yep. Shit.\"\n\n\"I'm not sure I believe you in all of this, but for the sake of argument - you're telling me that if I die, the world ends.\"\n\n\"Bingo. Well done. So no, Henry, what would happen if other scientists figure this out, and they went mad? Or religious fanatics found out about it?\"\"\n\nHe swallowed nervously. \"So, uhh... do I get protective custody then for the rest of my life?\"\n\n\"That only works so far, Henry,\" I said more gently. \"Someday you'll die of old age anyway. And then...\"\n\n\"Oh god, everything stops?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"That's... horrible.\" He put his face his hands, as the implications hit him.\n\n\"We're researching a way to make someone immortal, Henry, but... we don't have that kind of technology. At least, not yet.\"\n\nBetween his fingers he glanced at the door, then back at me. \"You'll never let me leave, will you?\"\n\nI shook my head sadly. \"None of us in here will be leaving, Henry. We know too much. But we do have a potential solution.\"\n\n\"A... solution?\"\n\n\"Yes. Hibernation. Only me, my two colleagues, and some very high ranking people know that you, Henry Isaiah Myers, are the Simulator. It will be kept that way. The scientists believe they need our tech to advance for another fifty to a hundred years for them to be able to hack the simulation thoroughly enough to override the auto-stop should you die. That may be enough time to solve the aging issue as well. In the meantime... we're going to sleep.\"\n\n\"I thought cryogenics couldn't guarantee revival. And isn't that awfully like death?\"\n\n\"Think of the Manhattan Project, Henry. We have cryogenics which will keep you indefinitely alive - within the parameters of the Simulation believing you to be alive, anyway.\"\n\nHe blinked. \"But you said 'we'.\"\n\nI sighed. \"Yes. Notice how no other guards saw us walk in? Just automated security? Those records are being deleted even as we speak. We're joining you in hibernation, Henry. I ... I just wanted you to understand why. And say... I'm sorry.\"\n\nHe stared at me with an expression of resignation as the knock-out gas filled the room.\n\n\"I think... I think I understand.\""
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Just a silly game me and my friends used to play as kids. We had lots of fun with it when we used it in front of the adults though.
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[WP] As kids, you and your friends decide to create your own secret language by substituting certain words for another, give meaning to random nonsense and silly sounds. Everything is fun and well until one day you wake up to the whole world using it.
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"I walked up to the lady at the counter and asked, \"How much for the coffee again?\"\n\nShe looked at me, puzzled, and replied, \"3 Buffalos.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"3 Buffalos.\"\n\nI still gave her the confused face and she started giving me gestures for three and a big land mammal.\n\nI gave her 3 dollars and she handed me my coffee saying, \"Keyboard poke. Koala gnome hurting!\"\n\n\"What the hell?\" I thought to myself as I walked off.\n\n\nThis was something simple I made quickly. :D\n\n\nEdit: Typo",
"\tOne day, I decided to create a secret language. I had absolutely nothing to do and I was bored out of my mind. This language was going to be so bizarre and strange. I would make sure to share it with my friends so they could understand it as well. So I made this book filled with words and basic sentence structure. The seven friends I promised to share the language with and myself gathered one weekend and I taught them this language. As a group, we decided to name the language Sharp. One day, we decided to go out to eat. To make sure no one listens on our conversations, which are full of nonsense, we decided to talk in sharp. One individual, who was at the restaurant, heard us speaking this rather unique language. There was something strange about this man, as he didn’t seem phased nor confused about our language as he approached us. He came up and asked in our language, “Where did you learn to speak the ancient language of the ones among us?” And at that very moment, my friends and I stared in awe and in confusion, as we just got ourselves into something far more than we had bargained for.\n\tHe led us to his house, which seemed like your average, middle-class income, kind of house. But boy, was I wrong. We went inside and he had many things that seemed unusual. One in particular looked like shaman sculpture of some sort. The man finally responded with “Only the special ones are drawn to this.” Apparently it had something to do with the secret language that my friends and I invented. He screwed off the top portion of the head and pulled out a map. There it said: “The Village of the Ones Among Us.” We were beginning to be rather confused. We talked to each other and to discuss if this was some sort of prank or the real thing. We agreed to go with the man and he proceeded with “Follow me.” This man took us to his home and gave us information about this so-called village. My friend had his piloting license so he offered to fly us all there. That is where things got even stranger than it already was. We decided to fly to Brazil, as it was hidden deep in the Amazon jungle.\n\tAfter adventuring all the way down to Brazil, we finally made our way to the Amazon and the odd man led us to the village. My friends and I were still extremely skeptical about this whole thing. We ventured deeper and in deeper into the jungle. It was humid, thick with vines and shrubs. There was very little sunlight peeking through the branches of the trees. We must have been walking for hours before finally saw an opening through the trees. It was a vast land and it seemed as if it went downward, like a cliff. He said we were about there, just keep going to the opening. We finally arrived to the opening and my friends and I peeked down. There was nothing. We couldn’t see anything down the cliff either it was misty and cloudy. The man then proceeded to push us all off the cliff. We were screaming in fear; we didn’t know what was down there. We all managed to get together and form a circle as we fall as we thought this could be the end. We closed our eyes and let things happen. Then all of a sudden, we didn’t feel air drifting against our body but instead it felt like we were floating. We looked down and there was a device keeping us from hitting the ground. Then there he was, the man who pushed us down, and was welcoming us to the Village of the Ones Among Us. \n\tWe couldn’t believe our eyes. This was an ancient civilization but they had the most advanced technology. They had technology more advanced than ours. It was absolutely glorious and amazing. He introduced us to the head leader of the village. He looked like the Shaman statue that the man stored the map in. Turns out, he was the Shaman, and his name was Shaman Great. They mastered the technology to slow down the aging process on a human significantly. He looked no older than 30, but he is actually over 200 years old. We couldn’t believe anything we were seeing; it was just too much to take in. We pulled to the side to see what to do. We discuss how they talk in our language and how they are so advanced. I begin thinking to myself and ask myself if it’s a dream, but I shrug it off, as it seems so real. Shaman Great gave us a tour of the rest of the village, which is rather decently sized. Many advanced buildings, homes and buses to get everyone anywhere they needed to be. He then shows us a house in which we can stay for our visit, we enter and settle in and get ready for the night.\n\tAs it nears about ten in the evening, we talk about what has happened and how it just seems unbelievable. We search the house for anything that could seem rather strange and give us some clue. We couldn’t find anything so we decided to sneak out and look longer. There was a building behind the house so we went to check it out. It was rather small and seemed empty. We snuck around the back and checked if the door was open. It happened to be open so we entered and we looked around. A friend yelled for us to come over, as it seems he has maybe found something. I look at the numerous amounts of machines in the rather small room. There are 8 machines, each one with a picture of us. I try looking at the files and managed to find the only thing I needed,. They have been tracking us for several years. This is where we begin to freak out and we decided to try to escape, as this isn’t right. They clearly need us for something and we aren’t going to help. We went to our house and tried to get some sleep. \n\tThe next day they asked us to come to the lab they have and read some things about there history. They had us read a prophecy, which were about eight people who end up in the village and protect them from all evils. They show us some drawings of how they looked like, and surprise, they happened to look just like us. We told them we were going to help them and we ran out of the building look for any escape route. We hijacked a bus near the lab and tried to find a way out. We were driving around the streets and then we saw a cave like structure that may have been the way the man entered the village, we go through the cave and get out to the jungle and it was a straight path to the plane. Bu there was Shaman Great, yelling that the prophecy must be fulfilled and we screamed no. There is no help or prophecy. He begins doing some strange dance and magic that summons monsters made from the jungle plants, we run to the plane. Avoiding any monster at all cost. We entered the plane and got it running. The monsters were scratching the plane and trying to enter but we started flying. This was the man’s plane so he had many things in here, including detonator of some sort. The detonator had a label on it which read, “Activate if the truth is learned.” He had been trying to find us to stop the Village as they were the evil and he had been a secret agent of some sort. We immediately activate the switch and we see the village slowly explode and fall into destruction. The detonator then disassembled and fell apart. A note fell out and said “Good Job.”\nJust a little tweaking I did to the prompt. I had fun writing it and I hope you guys enjoy it :)"
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[WP] You've grown to accept your ability to see when a person is going to die within a month. You normally average an elderly woman, or an obese man once a day... Today after traveling around the entire city, you have yet to met one person who is not going to die.
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"Its a shame, I always liked Mr Patel; he's run the post office near my estate since I was a lad and while our parents had only begrudgingly shopped in the 'paki shop' and were delighted when the supermarkets took over, he had always been kind and funny to us. We spent all of our pocket money at his and his son was like an aloof kind of friend, we'd banter with him and we all got along but he was never the verbose type himself. \n\nAs I got older, my taste for sweets dwindled and naturally my need for Rayesh's went with it, I'd see them around and I always had time for them but well, 36 days ago today it was not so routine. It was early in the morning, just gone 6 perhaps, and I hadn't had my morning coffee. As I passed by Rayesh's I was almost knocked clean off of the curb into the road as Ray burst out of the door, \"Christ, Ray!\". I fumbled to regain my compusure, grilling him as I turn and dust myself off \"Going to miss prayer huh? Get it together old ma-...shit.\"\n\nHe got the halo, I can hardly look them in the face when they get it, its like the resplendent glow of burning magnesium, the light radiates and scorches the air around it. The stinging sensation in my eyes is akin to how I'd imagine it would feel to have sewing needles slowly pressed into your temples and puncture your brain, its unbearable. I won't look but I can explain, this halo marks 40 days until the death of it's bearer and they are none-the-wiser all along. \n\nTBC",
"Disclaimer - This story doesnt mimic any real life event, it is purely a work of fiction. I am not very good at writing realistic stories, as i prefer fantasy. If you like it, i can expand it to more days some other time. Enjoy reading\n\n\nMy name is Michael, but i go by many nicknames. None of those mean anything to me. I can see when a person will die if it is within a month. As i work for an insurance company, i refuse such people. Why would i ever want to give insurance to somebody who will die that soon? My boss would give me a hard time about that, but it doesnt matter to me. As long as i can see if a person dies, i can keep going. Am i...weird? Perhaps, but in this day and age, nobody is sane and if they claim it, they are the most insane.\n\n\nMy gift or a curse works on everybody and it doesnt matter if i see them in real life or on television. It shows a small red light in the corner of my eyes and shows how long until they die. I was curious about this. Why was i given this ability? Was there anybody else like me? But as i am not the one to ponder such things, i decided to stop asking questions and keep going.\n\n\nFriday...ugh...the worst day in the week. I wake up and get up. It is sunny outside, so i open the curtains and instantly the room lits up. I live in a generic flat, as an insurance agent i dont earn a lot of money. After doing all the stuff you do in the morning, i go to my work in an old beaten up car i got from used car shop. Check in the work and start working. A man comes asking for insurance. I ignore everything he says, it is all the same for me by now. No red light, good. I give him the insurance for the most ridiculous things. If he dies within a month, we would have to pay him a lot of money. Two months...well, it will be much less. A woman comes. Perhaps in her 80s, she probably looked good when she way young. Surprisingly, no red light. Wow, old people sure are tough as coffin nails these days. A young businessman comes. Red light. I make up an excuse, just as every other day. He is angry. I shrug my shoulders and tell him that there are some errors in his tax reports, which not only shuts him up, but he gets pale. I hope he wont die in my office, that would be hard to explain. Nope, he wont keel over just like that and he leaves. More people...and end of the day. Back home, generic stuff, sleep. Yay...i am so happy...that was sarcasm, if you didnt notice.\n\n\nSaturday. Something smells here. Probably my neighbours cooking. They are not good at it. As i walk by a mirror, i see a red light. I click my teeth and with massive regrets look into the mirror. It is a red light and the counter says 1. Normally, it would say 29 days and so on. Now it says just 1. #@$%*! I keep swearing and punch the mirror. No. It has to be an error. 1 what exactly? Its not a minute or a second. The counter doesnt go down either. I turn on the tv and red lights flood my sight. This is bad. I run out of the house with just my shorts and flip-flops on and i get assaulted by red lights. Red lights from everybody and all of them say 1. I get back into my flat, grab my keys and travel around the town. 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, everybody has a 1. I can hear a siren. But why? It doesnt sound like a siren to me, it sounds like a banshee. Everybody will die! Someth...\n\n\nThe rest of Michaels thoughts were gone. It was exactly 1 hour since he saw his own red light. Everybody died. Today the world experienced their worst fear. The first nuclear plant explosion. The city and a few villiages went up in a nuclear blast. No warnings, no signs of problems, just in a single moment, all those people went away."
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[WP] Aliens finally come pay a visit to us on earth... and thank goodness they are friendly! Now, after some bureaucracy, interstellar exchange students are allowed. But what we didn't know is that just like us, extraterrestrials also go through puberty, but it's much different than expected...
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"**Tuesday, September 24, 2019**\n“Mom! It won’t get out of the bathroom!”\n\nSusan’s whiny screech was enough to was enough to kill the mood. Mark rolled off me, stopping whatever was about to happen. “Whatever” had been getting few and far between since Susan became a teenager and decided she owned us along with the house, the car, and the fridge. We thought that getting a student exchange student would keep her entertained and under control. We were wrong. \n\nSusan, like a toddler, was more interested in the packaging instead of the present. She kept making snarky remarks about Rigel’s appearance. She stuck her finger down her throat when we ate dinner together at the table so often that Rigel thought it was a custom and slithered a tentacle down his translucent “food hole” every time he ate. Susan brought her friends over to “socialize” with him but we caught them teaching Rigel to roll his gelatinous round body down the stairs just so they could laugh at him. Worse she pretended to walk in on him as he used the bathroom and had taken a few instagrams of him squeezing out his waste. As much as I hate to use this word, and I’m a woman, but my daughter is a bitch. \n\nAnd a cockblock, I should mention that. Mark put on his robe, threw open the door, and went stomping down the hall toward the bathroom not giving two fucks that I still lay spread eagle and mostly naked on the bed. My mind battled between the reality that I should get dressed and the hope that he would return before the blood finished rushing out of my nether regions. As I reached for my underthings I heard him telling Susan to close the bathroom door, leave Rigel alone, and give the poor Rigelian some peace. \n\nMark’s voice trailed off as Susan belted out a high pitched scream. It was kind of scream that only teenage girls who find blood soaked bodies in their bedrooms can make. With only the barest bits of clothing on I hurled myself out the door and charged down the hall and into the bathroom. \n\n\n**Friday, October 25, 2019**\n“<SCREAM> Mom, I think it moved.”\n\nMark grunted as I rolled off of him. The look in his eye indicated he was about to march down the hall and decapitate our daughter. I put a hand on his chest and pushed him back down to the bed, promising I would return. I put on my robe, threw open the door, and headed down the hall. Behind me I heard Mark muttering curses as he lept out of bed to shut the door. \n\nIt was difficult to shower with Rigel in the tub. The Department of Extraterrestrial Exchange, or “Dee” as Mark named them, told us that Rigel was going through what can only be called puberty. Dee didn’t know much but they were able to tell us that he was perfectly safe, we were perfectly safe, and that using the shower was perfectly safe. In fact Rigel had chose the shower on purpose as daily watering and anti-bacterial washes were good for him.\n\nWhen I entered the bathroom I found that Susan had lept out of the tub in the wrong direction and was pressing herself into the space between the tub and the wall; her red hair still soapy from shampoo. This position afforded her access to only a row of decorative hand towels, one of which she was employing in a vain attempt to preserve her modesty. That might have worked when she was seven but she was bigger now. I yanked a bath towel off the rack and tossed it at her. She thanked me before muttering that I should turn around. I obliged. \n\nAfter the all clear was given I bent over to examine Rigel’s carapace. Our clear, gooey, amoeba-like house guest had grown dark and hard during his days in the tub. All perfectly normal said Dee. Yet something had changed, Susan was right. I put my hand on the shell and felt vibrations and movement. It was time. I motioned for Susan to hand me the electric saw. \n\nI placed the blade against the indentation on the side of the shell like Dee’s manuals told me to and turned it on. I made my way around the shell completely as Susan stood watch. I briefly wondered where Mark was before I realized that I had left him in the bedroom with the promise that I would return, and sex. The man was missing a once in a lifetime opportunity to watch a Rigelian come of age because he held out hope I would return to complete our monthly ritual. \n\nThe shell made an audible popping noise as I finished the circuit. I put the saw down and told Susan to take hold of the other side of the shell. I counted down and on three we lifted the top half off of him. I barely had the shell halfway up before I heard Susan gasp and nearly drop her side. As I bent down to take most of the weight I saw him and heard myself gasp as well. \n\nHe had pink sink, red hair, and…. \n\n \n**Saturday, November 30, 2019**\n“Mom, Rigel is being a Vagina!” \n\nNeither of us stopped what we were doing till it was done. Susan could pound on the bathroom door all she wanted. Mark and I were going to finish. We were finished with catering to both of their needs. God, I couldn't wait for the semester to end and for Rigel to go home. That would leave me with just one needy, loud, hormonal, girl in this house. \n\nWe thought getting a student from Dee would show us what life was like out there. Let our daughter learn from another species and grow out of the annoying, obnoxious, demanding thing she was currently. When I lifted that shell off of Rigel the last thing I expected was for a pink skinned, red haired, female clone of my daughter to come shrieking out of the black egg. \n\nI phoned Dee and, again, they said it was perfectly normal. They recently learned that Rigelians emerge from puberty a copy of those close to them. They adopt all the physical and mental traits that imprint on them which allow them to become functioning members of the Rigelian body. For Rigelians this ensures harmony in the body politic and the peaceful advancement of the species. For my family it meant two screaming teenage girls resided in my house where only one special snowflake had fallen. \n\nYou know what? I don’t care. I grabbed Mark and pulled him down to the bed again. He let out a confused, if delighted, noise. The girls could take care of themselves. ",
"I can barely stand Xiotin-24. All he does is constantly ask questions and hurl goop on the desk. All the other aliens are moody. Kids won't speak, adults condescend, but their \"teenage years\"… those are the worst. We've been running this exchange student program for about 5 years, and the teachers always seem to love the alien exchange students more than their actual human students. My friend Kyle went to Zotgon for his exchange program, and the teachers loved him. He said his moodiness was \"very refreshing\" to them, and that they were so happy to have a student so unwilling to learn. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Xiotin's voice translator beeping.\n\n\"Mrs. Garner, Mrs. Garner,\" a robotic voice exclaims, \"why does your chest appear bigger than that of your peers?\"\n\nShe laughs.\n\n\"Oh you silly, I sometimes forget about your culture. Always asking questions. Anyway, who can tell me about the potential energy of…\"\n\nXiotin's tentacle is up in the air.\n\n\"Xiotin, I'm surprised! You must have studied on your own!\"\n\n\"Yes Mrs…\"\n\nHe pauses to hurl purple goo on his desk out of his mouth for a good three seconds. Then, he wipes his mouth with his other tentacle and continues.\n\n\"The great physicist Karl Marx said that potential energy is like a box of chocolates: you never know what you're gonna get.\"\n\nI sigh under my breath. His endearing ignorance and bubbliness really wear down on you. My teacher smiles, but I can tell it's strained.\n\n\"I'm sorry Xiotin. Karl Marx was an economist, and the box of chocolates part is from a movie.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry Mrs. Garner, I'll do my (hurls) do my best!\"\n\nI look at the clock. This class ends in 45 more minutes. Maybe I can take that.\n\n-------------\n\nAt lunch, I'm sitting with Kyle and a couple other people, when Xiotin approaches.\n\n\"Hello friends, I am going to sit here with all of you because I know none of you, and I'd like to get to know you better!\"\n\nI groan. Kyle picks at his mashed potatoes, and everyone else just looks uncomfortable.\n\n\"Eat up friends, you need the nutrients to have a strong and healthy Flarpa!\"\n\nHe slams his head into his green beans, and slurps them up through what look like his nostrils. I gag a little bit. He looks at me.\n\n\"I did not know you speak Gazeeban!\" he exclaims and removes his translation collar.\n\nHe starts making noises, mostly gags mixed in with coughs and slapping his head. I say nothing. He turns his head sideways, and puts his collar back on.\"\n\n\"Okie dokie,\" he says, \"maybe we can try again later.\"\n\nOne more class, and I can go home.\n\n-------------\n\nAt the end of the day, I see my mom's car pull up. Behind it is a floating vessel of some sort, and I can see two depressed looking aliens. Xiotin flops his way to it and screams.\n\n\"Mom, dad! You came to visit!\"\n\nHis parents are wearing voice translators as well. The male looks at the female, and sighs.\n\n\"The worst part of having a kid is the teenage years. So eager, so happy,\"\n\nXiotin pukes on the ground.\n\n\"Ok it was nice to see you son, bye.\" the female says, and they quickly fly away.\n\nXiotin looks at me, and says, \"you know, sometimes I think I am far wiser than my parents. They always try to be distant and far away, but I think it's important to really connect with others.\"\n\nI was surprised at this sentiment, but then he spoke again.\n\n\"It's probably just another mood swing. Eventually I'll feel unfulfilled and depressed.\"\n\nAnd with that, he flopped away."
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[WP] The United States loses the revolutionary war against Great Britain in a parallel timeline.
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"It's been weeks since anyone has heard any gun shots. Mother has been going frantic for days now with no sign of our father anywhere. Not a single person has seen him since a few days before the final battle. Mathew, Tom and I want to go out looking for him. Our sisters, Elizabeth and Alison beg us not too. I'm the man of the house now, that's what father told me when he left for the war. \"I heard more men talking about the resistance in town today\" shouted Tom. \"I know father is alive!\" I saw the look in Mathews eyes after hearing the same thing three of the last five days. \"That's where he'd be, and he'd want us to fight for our home as well. I just know it!\" Trying not to allow time for Mathew to say anything, I screamed \"You dont know what father would want! And we can't run off to join the resistance with dad or without!\" I had scolded without hesitation but had something else in mind. I just had to figure out how to tell the girls. I told them in a hushed voice \"We could be killed for such talk.\"",
"George Washington sits strapped rigid in his saddle. His injured leg trembles. The British surgeon did not remove the ball, just pressed an orange glowing brand to the wound and wrapped it tight with cheese cloth before replacing the general's torn uniform pants back n the abused flesh. Without the tightened straps he is certain he could not sit this horse even at its slow trot. \n\nThe pain is bad, but he tries to ignore it. \n\nWorse is coming. \n\nA slight breeze brings the odors of the dock to his nose. Smells he finds familiar and comfortable, like decaying fish, high tide, goods wrapped in waxed deerskin and men working shirtless in the summer sun. It's the other smells left over from yesterday's battle, the fear, gunpowder and men losing their lives that ruin the enchantment of the New York river countryside. \n\nEven today, just twenty-four hours after the battle, there is the fresh bloom in the air of bloating bodies in need of disposal, of defeat, of bloodshed and shit filled britches, of men who thought they would live forever only to learn the painful kiss of a bayonet or led ball. \n\nFear squirms in the American leader’s belly, but he ignores it. All that matters now is showing stoicism, showing the world facing death did not faze him and history will describe him as a warrior who died fighting for what he believed. He might feel the rough clasp of the noose, but he will not give his killers the satisfaction of showing it. That his end is not the end of the movement. \n\nTaking a deep breath he studies the death parade. At the head of the procession he watches a colonial drummer boy beating a gallows tattoo,”dum dum da dum.\" he is dressed as he was for battle yesterday but his tricorne hat is gone, lost to the dust of battle. The mid morning sun casts an orange glow through the lads hair.\n\nA cloud of dust stirred up by the large gathered crowd settles over the child's blue draped shoulders. He might as well be wearing white. His face is stained with blood and Washington wonders whose it might be, what carnage did this boy witness that may plague him every night for the rest of his life. \n\nThe blood might as well belong to the battle for freedom itself. The end of man versus the Gods, of ordained versus the ultimate struggle for personal betterment. This defeat might mean the death of man's upward mobility.\n\nUnless this is not the end. \n\nCongress still can fight and organize. \n\nWashington furls his brow. He knows he was not the best military mind in the colonies, just the person willing to take the title and direct the efforts and wear the target. Others might step forward now that he is being martyred. Maybe many men would risk their lives for revenge and for claiming ownership of their own country. \n\nWashington prays again that this not be the end. To allow his people a chance to get over his failure to them. He lost one battle, but they could all still win the war. \n\nNot for his sake though, he has already come to accept his end is neigh, no, for the sake of what he fought and lost for. \n\nHe looks again to the drummer paying the barest attention to his task of beating the drum. His mind probably on the future. Washington hopes he still has a chance to live some of his life, have children, fight and actually win a battle or two.\n\nHopefully the kid would get to go home, one day, he still owed a debt for his treason to the crown, but hard indentured work never killed anyone and he could still be a father and grandfather. \n\nFor the lack of this one joy Washington was willing to give it all back. A Frenchman's musket ball took his testicles and his will to be selfish. \n\nThis boy like other men who survived would still have to wait to hear word of their fate. \n\nAll his officers would die today, that was certain. It’s the British way. Kill the leadership. Take the head of rebellion and take its soul. \n\nWashington will dangle and his officers will be shot.\n\nThe procession of condemned follow him on the way to the hangman's tree selected for its age and size. The rest would be lined up along the wharf and forced to watch his hanging. When he stopped dancing they would be shot in turn, their bodies allowed to be fish food.\n\nThe grey pony was stopped in front an ancient white oak heavy with green leaves. Washington looks up and spies a large bottom branch swung out over the footpath. It was the perfect height for a man to be dehorsed. It was maybe a eighteen or so feet up and fifty feet from the water's edge. \n\nFrom the branch swings a noose.\n\nThe rope brushes his left shoulder. It feels heavier than a rope should feel, like it was made of empty meaning and broken promises. \n\nHis officers are moved past him to the water's edge.\n\nOn the riverbank they will be lined up and in full view of their swinging commander shot dead.\n\nThe drummer boy is shoved in the back by the pointy end of a bayonet attached to a musket held by a lobsterback private. His steps stutter, but he catches himself before he falls, but follows the other soldiers. \n\nWashington hopes if the boy dies today he is long gone so he can avoid seeing it. \n\nHe wants nothing more then not to have to live the rest of his moments with the memory of the boy dying. Even after so much death wrought by his orders he feels this last death might be too much to carry into the oblivion.\n\nThe colonial officers are lined up on the shores. \n\nGeneral Howe watches from just behind the firing line, one hundred red coats waiting for the order to fire.\n\nWashington hopes the matter of dying will be handled quickly and that it was just the ceremony of the parade that was allowed to take its time. \n\nThere was no contingent of continental upstarts to interrupt the proceedings, judgement and punishment happened and as planned, immediately following the end of any combat rebuttals the executions would commence. \n\nThe colonials did not have any arguments to make when the rifles quieted and August 23rd 1776 would be the day known as the end of the colonial uprising. \n\nIn dusty forgotten about history books the whole ordeal might be looked at as a lark against the world’s greatest government. \n\nWashington knows Howe is happy to kill as many as it would take to make peace, so is completely oblivious to the blood on his hands, as any good military commander would be. \n\nWhen the day's total was finished being calculated there could be as many as seven thousand dead in the streets of Brooklyn Heights and that's not even attempting to count the bodies floating in the East River.\n\nThe royal navy picked them off or watched then struggle and drown. \n\nWashington never planned for the Navy. \n\nAs an Army general he preferred dirt and mud to water and fish. \n\nThat was the plan.\n\nHowe was supposed to think the colonials meant to defend the Jamaican pass. \n\nIf Washington had held the pass he would still be fighting. It would have been a long and costly battle. One he is certain the Americans would have eventually lost anyway. So instead his intention was to attack and run. The tactic would have worked, if they had escaped from Brooklyn. It would have worked if the British navy hadn’t gotten to the East River in time to block their egress. One day sooner, maybe a night and 9000 colonial troops would be safe on the island of Manhattan. \n\nWashington had hoped Howe would see the glorious battle potential in the Jamaican Pass. It was a European generals dream. It made sense. It resembled Bunker Hill in every way, but instead of turning East he turned West.\n\nOnly history will know why Howe chose his tact. Maybe a spy. Maybe just a tickle. Which ever, it earned the pompous little man a brilliant victory. \n\nThe streets ran red with blood and British soldiers.\n\nFew managed to make it to Manhattan. \n\nThe artilleryman Knox did though. If he did not slink off to the hinterlands of Pennsylvania he would make an able leader.\n\nYoung at 26, but experience can be earned in the heat of battle. \n\nCongress could make him a hero and use him to recruit another Army. \n\nWashington decides his death aids that end also. \n\nSitting his personally selected grey pony, his left boot overflowing with blood he is keenly aware of the road clogged with cheering spectators. Some wave the Union Jack and scream slurs at him and at anyone who dares wear blue or not look proud to be a British citizen.\n\nRed is the color of the day. The color of the heroic British army. The color of the blood shed for victorious King George.\n\nA cavalry officer rides up next to him and slips the noose over his head. The knot is tightened under the general’s left ear.\n\nThe crowd is wild, cheering for death. It’s as if the rebellion was merely an upstart bunch of tax evaders and the majority of people are happy for it to be done. Maybe they are just happy following what ever excitement is available. \n\nThe masses are fickle.\n\nThis makes the tall general sad. Granted he hated the tax code implemented in the colonies, but what he risked his life for was his brother and sister Americans, he did not do it to become their better, but to allow them all to become his equal. Now that it’s over the people seem happy to be loyal subjects of the crown again and pay what ever taxes the tyrant seemed fair. \n\nHe shakes his head in denial and prepares himself for the pain of dying.\n\nIt was none of his business anymore anyway, his task now is not to lead but to insight. \n\nHe watches his men being lined up to die along the water’s edge, but before he can be untied from his horse or asked if he had any last words, the father of his country instead shouts, “death before tyrants!” and kicks the mare with his right foot. \n\nThe beast shoots forward. \n\nHer powerful legs work hard against gravity. \n\nThe tissue in Washington's neck provides little resistance but the rawhide straps hold. \n\nWith an audible snap his head is pulled from his shoulders ending the revolutionary war, but cementing him a legend in the American massacre of the British Empire."
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[WP] Aliens conquer Earth. Well, not whole Earth, one tiny village in Gaul is still resisting...
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"Aktor lead the Emperor had conquered many worlds, razed countless moons, scoured entire systems clean of life in the name of the Great Empire. He had never encountered a species he could not have submit to the Will.\n\nUntil he came upon this miserable, Emperor-forsaken planet in orbit-03. The entire planet was under subjugation, the natives forced to harvest their resources as was customary, cleansing their aether and preparing them for their next life in the service of the Emperor. But rumors whispered amongst the dregs--of a city that was still fighting--resisting. As per his mandate anyone who was found discussing the City, as they took to calling it, was taken for reassignment.\n\nHe didn't want any of this 'hope' as he found described in remnants of their communications network. He still did not understand what this had to do a hairy quadruped with a limb on the branch. He did want them to know the truth, however far from it was from their collective...'imagination?' He could not have them know of why they had been here for fifteen star rotations.\n\nFifteen star rotations and he had never felt more rage in his years of service. He had turned their cities into rubble and he had never found a greater obstacle than the small settlement in a small continent bordering one of their oceans. Planetary records gave the region multiple names, the earliest he could find referring to the region as Gaul. Never before had he seen such resistance. Orbital bombardment, raiding parties, strike teams, traditional infantry, Firewings--nothing took.\n\nDays after they had scoured the area, the buildings rubble and ash once they left it only took days for the village to appear on their sensors once again. The buildings rebuilt, weapon stockpiles apparently replenished, it was above all else, **confounding**. No matter how completely, thoroughly they demolished and annihilated the settlement, against all possible odds, it was restored to pristine condition. Any aftereffects that **should** have remained were simply **gone**. Aktor suspected some sort of temporal effect was in play, but the natives technological level gave no such indication that they would be capable of such a feat.\n\nHe would have to send a request for a Technologist to determine the cause. It would be a blemish on an otherwise spotless record, but Aktor just wanted to return home. They all did. And he would not let some village stop them from that.",
"In a small corner of Northern Gaul is a village where life continues much as it has done for many, many years. Once this village was besieged by legions of Cesar's finest troops, but in more recent times things have been a little... different. \n\nHere now comes two of the men who live in the village, a young man named Asterix and his rather... rotund friend, Obelix. Whilst for many men simply chasing down a wild boar on foot would be enough of a challenge, Obelix is carrying with him a gigantic stone, a Menhir, which he nimbly holds as the two men rush after the beast. \n\nAt last the animal is cornered and with great care the two men approach from either side. \n\n*****\n\n\"Be careful Obelix.\" Asterix watched the the boar looked from side to side, looking for a way to escape. \n\nThis tasty boar wont's escape me Asterix!\" Obelix bellowed, leaping forward and grasping with one hand, the other balancing his Menhir. As if in slow motion Obelix reached for the animal, missed and a moment later landed on his face with a thud. \"Alright, probably not anyway.\" \n\nAsterix rolled his eyes. \"Look maybe you could do your deliveries another time Obelix, i'm hungry and that boar can't have gone far.\" \n\nObelix looked at the remains of the flattened animal on the side of his rock and carefully began to scrape it off. \"Maybe we could still make it a Pâté?\" \n\n***** \n\nWalking back through the woods, Asterix tried to ignore two things, the rumbling in his stomach and the clicking noise as the sentry creatures tracked the two Gauls through the woods. \n\nObelix looked around at the trees on all sides. \"Asterix, do you...\"\n\n\"Yes Obelix, but just do as Chief Dominatrix said and ignore them.\" Obelix nodded, the strange creatures weren't as fun as the Roman's had been anyway and they didn't wear helmets or armour he could collect. \n\nThe two continued until the entered a small clearing and there, in the middle, the aliens had finally revealed themselves. the tall one at the front stepped forward. \"criiitcccchchcch\" \n\nAsterix clapped his hands to his ears but Obelix nodded thoughtfully. \"It's kind of melodic, don't you think?\" \n\nAsterix shook his head as the noise continued. \"By the God's no! I wish he'd shut up!\" \n\nThe clearing shook with a heavy thump and as the dust cleared Asterix could see that Obelix had solved the problem in the clearest way he knew how, with the application of a menhir to the face. A few limbs stuck out from under the rock in awkward angles. \n\nObelix picked the rock back up and began to brush off the bits of alien, along with the bots of boar that still stuck to it. \"I'm definitely going to have to clean it before delivery now.\" \n\nTe alien troops looked from the remains of their leader to the two men, the smaller of whom was now taking a swig from a bottle on his belt and the larger of which was still cleaning down its rock. With a piercing cry they charged, leaping forward towards the two men. \n\nIt was over in just a few seconds, Asterix sending two flying high into the sky, hard enough that they landed several miles away and Obelix carefully put down the stone, before slapping several until the came apart. he sighed heavily. \"There *really* aren't as good as the Roman's were Asterix. I miss them a bit.\" \n\nAsterix finished the last of them off and then turned to his friend, who had already begun to clean his rock. \"I agree old friend, but whether it's Roman's or these... things, it seems we're still lacking some friendly neighbours.\" \n\nHe paused for a moment before suddenly, with superhuman speed and strength, he leap into a nearby bush and emerged with a wild boar under his arm. The menhir was dropped, forgotten and Obelix clapped with glee. He bowed happily to his smaller friend. \"Who needs neighbours?! So long as there are wild boar about i'm happy!\" \n\nWith that, the two turned for home, back to the village and their friends. \n"
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[WP] It's the end of the world! Nobody's worried about protecting the old lady who lives by herself at the end of the street... except her cats.
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"\"Attention!\" Meowed Alex.\nThe others instantly quieted down. Alex was the oldest and wisest out of all of them. She had been their owners first cat when she was young.\n\"As I'm sure most of you know, the world is apparently ending. The other humans will behave like savages, even more than usual. We want to survive, yes?\"\nThe others meowed quietly in favor of living.\n\"Good! And who wants to keep Lady Rachel alive?\"\nMore of them meowed in favor, the ones who didn't were new.\n\"And we all know how clueless she is?\"\nWithout waiting for an answer, she continued.\n\"Good! So this house has a cat door. She didn't notice because of her cluelessness, so I've been training others, just in case. Now, we need to make shifts. There reason for the end is because of 'Vampires' and Witches' and other 'Monsters'. So from my knowledge, thy only attack humans and not cats.\n\n\"Let's only leave in shifts of three for five minutes in the beginning. I would recommend Panther, Shadow, and Chocolate. They can blend in the most, and have short fur. Remember to only bring back human children and other cats. Only bring food if it's canned or in the package. Bring water if you find it, but only if it's sealed. Any questions?\"\n\nIt was silent.\n\"What if we find grown humans?\"\nIt was Ginger who had piped up.\n\"Help them find shelter, but not near here unless we know them. Remember, humans are even more savage than usual.\"\n\"Shadow, Panther and I are ready.\" Can a steady voice from back. Chocolate.\nAlex nodded. \"Remember, don't let her know anyone's been gone. She'll worry and endanger herself.\"\nThey all hissed at the notion.\nAlex saw the three to the door. \"If you find other useful things, bring them. Hide them if you can't carry them.\"\nThe three nodded and slipped out.\nAlex slipped out of the garage as Rachel came down.\n\"Hello everyone.\" She smiled kindly as she sat on the ground, quickly getting covered in cats.\n(This is my first serious comment on Reddit. Please say if I should continue, and tell me if I made mistakes. Thanks for reading!)",
"Desperate families pack their things as quickly as they can. Many of the neighborhood's residents have already left, and looters pillage the empty homes with violent abandon. Tires squeal across pavement as people try to escape before the meteors begin to fall.\n\nIt's the end of the world.\n\nA loud thump echoes about the house, followed by the sound of breaking glass. The intruder hops through the smashed window and into the kitchen. He throws open the refrigerator and grabs any and all food items, throwing them into a plastic garbage bag as soon as he can get his hands on them. Glass jars, filled with various condiments, clink against one another as he falls, blindsided by the airborne feline attacker. As he fights to pull the vicious thing off of his face, three more land upon him, scratching, tearing, clawing, and biting at his vulnerable exposed flesh. He screams and flails as they tear him apart, joined by several of their compatriots. They are relentless, ripping and desecrating even after he stops screaming, fighting, and breathing. His body is dragged out of the cat door by one, as two more work to retrieve the various chunks of detached flesh and dispose of them as well. The plastic garbage bag is clawed open, and the assorted food items are picked up, one by one, and placed back into the fridge in a disorganized manner. The cats lick at each other and their surroundings, cleaning the blood out of their fur and off of the floor. The kitchen is soon almost back to normal, minus the window.\n\n\"Mr. Muffins! Here, kitty kitty kitty!\" \n\nMr. Muffins has earned himself a new badge of honor; a fluffy pink cat sweater with blue pompoms. The other cats nod their heads in respect and wonder if, next time, they could act valiantly enough to earn themselves such a badge."
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[WP] You are a psychopath who is planning to kill your next date. Little do you know, your next date is also a psychopath who is planning to kill you.
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"She was perfect. She was small, so she would be easy to overpower. She seemed to have no close friends or family, so she was isolated. Easy to forget. Easy to overlook. She seemed entirely too trusting; most women were guarded when they first met men. This one seemed to live a little too precariously on the edge. It fascinated him—perhaps it gave her a thrill? To be so reckless?—as much as it enticed him. She would be more willing to get into his car. To go to his place. To not text a concerned sister or roommate (and she had neither anyway) where she was. If danger was what she wanted...danger was what he would give her.\n\n\"So it seems like you're a bit of an adrenaline junkie,\" he said to her, grinning. \n\nNot tonight, of course. This had to be planned carefully. He didn't want to leave any clues or mess behind. He would be clinical, cold, careful—the way he always was. He would tempt her to come to his house. Normally this took some time—he wasn't interested in wild party sluts; the kind of girls he was interested in were of the shyer, more timid variety—but he thought it might speed up for this one.\n\n\"Yeah, I like a bit of excitement.\" She smiled, and then looked down at her steak, cutting through it with her knife, concentrating hard for a moment.\n\nThat was cute. She was cute. She wasn't a beauty. He didn't like beauties. They felt like a challenge. They attracted too much attention. She faded into the background, which excited him. She would be trusting of him and his heart raced at the thought of overpowering her, of having total control. He could only imagine how she would look after he throttled her, leaving purple finger marks on her pale throat.\n________________________________________________________________\n\nHe wanted to be torn apart. She could feel this in her bones. He was asking for it, really. He was too much: tall, handsome, golden-haired. This kind of beauty couldn't be allowed to age and wrinkle and go to waste. Something acidic churned in her gut at the thought of men like him getting older, going gray, showing paunches and pot bellies. It wasn't fair. In fact, it was downright disgusting. Beauty owed it to the world to be preserved, to be kept and safely hidden and locked away from the horrors of the world. \n\n\"So it seems like you're a bit of an adrenaline junkie,\" he said to her, smiling innocently. \n\nMen always underestimated her. She was small. She was ugly. But she was charming, which was why she got these dates in the first place. They never expected something so passionate to rip out of her and they never understood, even in their last moments, when she tried to plead with them and explain. Her left eye twitched for a second and she inhaled through her nose, calming herself down. No one understood her passion and dedication to beauty but that was alright. She didn't need friends anyway. She used to be upset that people distanced themselves from her, were put off by her oddities, but now she found it a saving grace. No one deserved to look at these men but her—and she would look at them for the rest of time.\n\n\"Yeah, I like a bit of excitement,\" she replied, smiling. \n\nHer heart began to pound in anticipation of what would come in the next weeks. She picked up her knife and began cutting through her steak precisely, imagining that the piece of meat was his flesh. She would cut here—and then there, and there, and there—and she would neatly divide him into beautiful little parts and preserve him for forever. There would be so much blood and she relished the thought.",
"The two of them met each other for dinner at their favorite restaurant. It across the street from where they had met earlier that week. Now they sat across the table from each other, each eating the same dish and drinking the same kind of champagne. They had managed to fill the last half hour with conversation over their multitude of similarities.\n\nTheir eyes locked; both of them, thinking they had the other distracted, took the opportunity they had come for and slipped the same poison into each other’s champagne. As they realized they both planned to kill each other the same way, smiles broke out across their faces; they were a perfect match, down to their most sadistic thoughts.\n\nKnowing they would never find someone quite the same, they each took a sip of their champagne in unison.\n\n*****\n\nConstructive criticism is welcome!"
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[WP] The government creates a tower, long enough to reach out into space. People are chosen yearly to enter it. You are one of the chosen.
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"Life was not worth living. Everything was great until the accident. Wife left a month after the accident saying, \"It is time for me to move on.\" By moving on she means leaving me for someone who can actually walk. Me though, I cant move on. Everyday I am reminded I had it all and then lost it in a blink of an eye. Today was the day I was going to end it. I had no family or friends that I bothered telling them a final good bye. I just wanted to leave a note for the police when they found my body. As I was writing the note I heard my computer make a chime noise meaning I had an email. No one had called, emailed, wrote a letter, or even left a pile of burning shit in a brown bag since I had the accident. I rolled over to the computer and saw an email stating I was invited for the annual tower visit. I could not believe it. Every year only 100 people got to go to the tower and I was one of them. Rumors say, after you enter the tower that your life will never be the same. None of the information about what scientific discoveries come out of the tower ever reaches public eyes but the rumors were always there. They could fix me, I thought. I prepared for my trip.\n\n\nI had never seen the tower in person before. Just looking at from a distance looked like it wasn't real. Your eyes played tricks on you, making the tower look like it was swaying back and forth. Just an allusion I hoped. My driver drove me to the front door and helped me out of the car without saying a word. As the driver went away I slowly started to wheel myself towards the massive stone doors. When I finally entered the building I was the only one in the lobby. I looked around and noticed something that felt like a stab to the heart. It was all pointless. A waste of time. I slumped in my chair and sobbed silently. The only thought that came to mind was that everything would had been fine before the accident. What I saw was a note saying, \"Elevator out of order, please use stairs.\" \n\n\n"
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Hope this gets at least one response. I'd love to see what others come up with for this idea :)
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[wp] your a master assassin and you've just killed the parents of a small child and decide it's time you had an apprentice
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"\"It's about time.\"\nI hear from behind me. I canvased the house, there wasn't anybody else home, I could have sworn. I turn around and point my gun at the witness. *shit*. She's only a kid.\n\nShe slowly put her hands up, and without a shred of terror in her voice, calmly said\n\"Put the gun down.\"\n\nDammit, I just killed this girls parents, and now I have a gun to her head, and I have to kill her too.\n\n\"You MI6 or CIA?\"\n\nHuh? This catches me off guard\n\n\"How the hell did you know? Who tipped you off?\" \n\n\"Drop the gun and I'll tell you.\"\n\nIt's completely against every single protocol, but I slowly lower the gun.\n\n\"Talk.\"\n\n\"Nobody tipped me off. I figured it out myself.\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"One night, he went into town to meet a \"friend\". He didn't know that I followed him, and he didn't know I understand German. I assume my mother was collateral?\"\n\n\"Wait, you *knew* your father was Nazi intelligence? How are you so okay? You're standing in a pool of your parents' blood!\"\n\nI can't believe this! Somebody must have tipped her off, right?\n\n\"He was a Nazi. He beat me. My mom knew about both those things, and she couldn't care less. They deserved to die.\"\n\nWe stand there in silence for a moment. \n\n\"You have to kill me now, right? Since I saw you.\"\nShe's right. I do. I... can't. \n\n\"Can you run fast?\"\n\n\"What? Yeah, sure.\"\n\n\"You're smart. Are you willing to dress as a boy, if need be.\"\n\n\"Sure, why not.\"\n\n\"Are you willing to kill, and be killed, in the name of The Crown?\n\n\"No, sir. But I am willing to kill and be killed in the name of every Jew whose died. I will die for justice.\"\n\nIt's not the answer my bosses would want, not exactly, but it works for me. She's perfect.\n\n\"Come with me.\""
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[WP] In a world where medicine is forbidden as "interfering with fate", a Fate Enforcement Agency (FEA) sends its best agent to take down the biggest medicine traficking cartel ever established.
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"\"Hands behind your back kap-i-tan\"\nThe cold steel cuffs clicked tight around Professor Kirks wrists as he was forced, face first, against the smooth brushed metal wall of the lab. Smashed glass covered the ground all around the overturned tables. \n\n\"Do you understand now? You could never escape. Fate is calling you.\" Agent Hoover whispered, his mouth close to the ear of Kirk, eyes shining with fierce, silent, glee.\n\n Hoover was, by even the high standards of the FEA, a devout Fatalist and took pleasure in tormenting conceit criminals that crossed his path, before they were sent to the roulette. Most others, even other Fatalist, would at least look before crossing the road or allow themselves to use seatbelts when driving. Hoover would scorn them. His thin face hardly hiding his contempt for their hypocrisy.\n\n His 7 surviving children had inherited his pure belief in the power of fate and aspired to join their mother who had died in childbirth after becoming pregnant for the 25th time. Fatalism freed it's followers, asking nothing, but giving true liberation. Liberty from choices, Liberty form desires, Liberty from suffering.\n\nThe \"captains\" as they called themselves, were to him, the ultimate of all the conceit criminals. They desired by ways of human knowledge to divert the flow. With no idea of the repercussions of their actions for the Universe. The belief they could actually change the holy plan, Mapped in the foundations of the universe, since the dawn of time, was an attack on Society. One that could never be tolerated.\n\nTo Hoover life was created to perform a vital function. It was not necessary to understand the function only to follow not fight against it. To think any different was arrogance in the extreme and fated to be destroyed.\n\n\"Your wrong, Drone.\" Kirk said flatly. He turned his head as far as he could to meet the eyes of Hoover. They locked and Kirk began to speak.\n\n\"Beyond this place of wrath and tears\nLooms but the Horror of the shade,\nAnd yet the menace of the years\nFinds, and shall find me, unafraid.\n\n..It matters not how straight the gate,\nHow charged with punishments the scroll,\nI am the master of my fate:\nI am the captain of my soul.\"\n\nAs Kirk finished he bit down, a sharp crack came from his mouth and foam burst forth, his eyes rolled back. Dead before he hit the ground. \n\nA voice came from behind, \"one way to cheat fate.\" \n\nHoover turned as Kirks body lay at his feet. FEA agent Ness stood looking down into the face of Kirk, all the while chewing gum. What do you think he meant?\n\nHoover ignored Ness' question and fired one of his own back.\n\"What have you got Ness?\" \n\n\"well, we've smashed all the insulin, but it's not a standard medicine lab\"\n\nHoover stared intently.\n\n\"That's to say.... there's equipment we've not seen before. The function is unknown but, best guess, it's chemical production of some kind\" Ness held an unidentified instumentturning it from one hand to the other. As he did a speck of blood fell from his nose, landing on his shirt sleeve. He looked to Hoover, just as a burst of bright red flowed over his lips and down his chin......\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] Lucifer genuinely wants to help humanity and is frustrated that everyone is too suspicious of him to accept his deals
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"Its just another day of hell in Hell. More people who have had bad lives. I like to get to know everyone and don't reject them just because they didn't worship me, unlike my competitor. Due to his slander, new arrivals are terrified. They think they will be tortured for their sins. I don't care about that! \n\nUsually my subordinates handle new arrivals unless there is a specific case I can help with.\n\nThe newest arrival, I'll call him Frank to protect his identity, was murdered by his wife for being gay. He thought he was being punished further. It took a lot of patience, but luckily my study of human psychology did eventually pay off when I was able to reassure him. I asked him about his life, how much of it he supressed himself, and how that affected his ability to live a happy life. His answers saddened me. \n\nWhile chatting with Frank, we arrived in the comversation to his family. He frequently brought up his son. \n\nAfter chatting with Frank for a while about his son and how much he misses him, I thought it would be a good idea to pay his son a visit. We'll call his son John.\n\nWhen I arrived at John's appartment at night, he was passed out on his couch. I looked around. He was in a studio appartment. There was no bed. Just a couch. Frank said he was 10. Obviously, Frank has not realized how much time has passed. John was a fit young man who obviously spent time at the gym, but was not lean due to his inability to afford a proper diet.\n\nI placed my hand on his head to discover what has happened. A lot of anger, confusion, and sadness. I talked to him in his dreams. Unfortunately, this sometimes startles people. He woke up.\n\n\"Who are you?\", John yelled and he shot up pulling himself away. \n\n\"I am... well. Nevermind. We'll get to that. What I want you to know is I have had a talk with your father. He is still worried about you in death and...\"\n\n\"He's in Hell. Does that mean you're Satan?\", John interrupted.\n\n\"Well, I prefer to go by Lucifer, but yes. And who told you he-\"\n\n\"Oh God! Mom is right. You're here to drag me down to Hell because I'm a faggot like my father.\" He began to sob.\n\n\"What? No! I'm here to respect his wishes and help.\"\n\n\"Don't deceive me! I know I deserve this! She always told me I was a faggot like my father. I thought I was different but curiosity got the better of me.\"\n\n\"Look, John I just want to work out a deal.\"\n\n\"No!\", he shouted and ran into the bathroom and locked to door. I could have easily come in, but I wanted him to feel at least a little secure.\n\n\"John. Just hear me out.\"\n\nHe didnt respond.\n\n\"Look, Frank just wants you to have a good life. He was worried that you would suffer from your mother's abusive tendencies. Which you obviously have. After she killed him he wanted you be be som-\"\n\n\"After she did what?\"\n\nThe conversation went on for a while. It seems the mother got away with murder. Said he went off with some 'other fag' and abandoned them both. As he was calling up all the painful memories, I peered into his mind. I don't like doing this because people's inner demons are worse than any even my competitor would have you believe I had.\n\nHe wasn't gay. Or at least wasn't supposed to be. His mother had convinced him through constant accusation. It became a self fulfilling prophecy. This poor young man has been through a lot. His spends countless hours at the gym to help him feel more secure. He lives in fear of others and himself. He is afraid of women.\n\nTears running down my face I spoke softly. \"John. I will put you on track for the life you would have had if it were not for your mother. I cannot bring your father back, but I can get you started on what you should be. And justice for what happened. What I want in return, are your memories. I want to take all of the pain from you. You will remember who your mother is and what you learned from it, but there will be no more torment from the emotional scars.\"\n\n\"No! You are trying to to trick me! I can't trust you. You are the deceiver. Go away! Leave me alone!\"\n\n\"And so I have to. Those are the rules. You have asked me to leave and I will. You will not remember this encounter. I will not leave you with that regret.\"\n\nI left. Feeling unaccomplished. He will continue down this self destructive path. But at least he will have a home when it is all over. A place where he can get therapy he needs with my expertise amd the love he deserves with his father. At least I could take solace in that.\n\nI understand why my competitor turned to apathy and a world without pain. The suffering he claims I enjoy, I do indeed enjoy. I enjoy the fact I can still feel. Even when it is pain.\n"
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To clarify: if there's an unfinished work of fiction such as an online fanfiction or webcomic that has been on hiatus for years, you can force an update. If there's a video game you want to see a sequel to, then by the powers that be a sequel will be made in short order. Perfect way to get The Winds of Winter or Half-Life 3 made quick.
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[WP] Your superpower is the ability to force an update or a sequel (with decent quality) to any work of fiction
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"I glared at the men and women standing before me in my study.\n\n\"The answer is 'No',\" I said, \"I no longer use my power.\"\n\n\"Sir, we are willing to pay you very well,\" said their spokesperson, an attractive thirty-something blonde woman with the slightly plastic look of a cable news anchor.\n\nI gestured at the window, where outside the east wing of my mansion was visible, along with the elegantly tended gardens, and an enclosed Olympic-size pool, \"Do I look like I need money?\"\n\n\"All we want is to read the end of 'A Game of Thrones' before he dies. It's been twenty-one years since the first volume came out.\"\n\n\"Get an HBO subscription. I'm sure they will finish it. Unlike myself—and Mr. Martin—Time Warner never has enough money.\"\n\n\"You know it's not the same; TV will never capture the essence, the detail, the nuance...\"\n\n\"And you think my power will? It's fickle and unpredictable. I've had many visitors in your position: 'George Lucas just has to start work on the Star Wars prequels', 'If only Frank Miller would do another Dark Knight Returns series,' my voice rose to a roar, 'wouldn't a Highlander sequel would be so cool!'\" \n\n\"No more,\" I said, \"For every *Star Trek: The Next Generation* my power inspires, there is a *Highlander II: the Quickening*, for every *Godfather, Part II*, there is a *Man of Steel*, for every *Battlestar Galactica* reboot, there is... well, a *Battlestar Galactica* reboot. I know you think you want what I can give you, but you are rolling the dice, and the house favors crap.\"\n\nTheir blonde spokesperson met my eyes, \"What if we could give you something real?\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\nShe opened a slim expensive brief case and held out a sheaf of yellowing paper. Just thick enough to be a short novel.\n\n\"This, sir,\" she said somewhat smugly, \"Is the second draft of an eleventh *Amber* book by Roger Zelazny. Never before seen. Misfiled in a stack of tax returns. We've acquired exclusive rights from his estate. Feel it. Use your power. It's real, and you had nothing to do with it.\"\n\nI reached out and brushed my hand along the paper, feeling the slight raise of the old laser print letters. I breathed in deeply. She was right. It was real, and untouched by my power or any—save for the writer's skill and imagination. \n\nMy price.\n\n\"You have a deal,\" I said.\n\nShe dropped the manuscript on my desk and smiled, \"We will let you get to work. I'm sure this project will prove challenging.\"\n\nAs the group of people... no fans... left, I gathered my power and concentrated. Somewhere near Santa Fe, a writer closed his browser and began to type. I could see the words and sentences and paragraphs start to pour out of his head and on to the screen in front of him. Were they any good? \n\nI have no clue. I've never read anything by him other than some *Wild Cards* books. \n\nBut the pages flowed. Winter was coming, and George R. R. Martin was my bitch.\n\nGod help us all.\n"
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[WP] All Humans can instantly learn any Skills from "Skills Books", however governments around the world heavily regulate the construction and usage of these. You are a underground book maker.
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"Who knew that a librarian would become the top Skill Book Maker. No one seemed to make the connection between working with books and curating the worlds most powerful Skill Book. \n\nIt was easy really. Whenever a book with a power page would come in I would just remove the book from circulation. It was well within my power as a librarian to remove a book for \"repairs\". I would remove the power page and then return the now powerless book to the catalog. \n\nI had quite a collection of power pages. I didn't keep them in my home as many people suspected. I actually kept them in the library in plain sight. To be fair the to investigators, who really looked in encyclopedias anymore. ",
"\"Finally!\" I stood up over the large, freshly bound tome. The embossed green text stood out on the black leather just as I had hoped, it was beautiful. This book was the largest one to date, so large that I hadn't been able to bind it in the traditional method. Doing so was not something that was necessarily more difficult but something that had definitely cost the buyer more. The door chime went off as I stood back admiring my work. I looked at the closed circuit TV connected to the shop's camera system. A young man had entered, short with glasses and greasy, long black hair protruding from under his ball cap. \"He's not what I was expecting\" I thought as I stared closer at the monitor.\n\n\"I'll be right there!\" I called out through the locked door that separated my workshop from the front counter. No answer. Instinctively I felt for my .38 concealed on my hip and I could feel the nine's weight on my ankle strap. I checked the image on the monitor once more. The shotgun was still on the shelf under the register, good. The newly crafted book was set into the chest with the others and locked away, the key I tucked into the hidden pocket in the hem of my pants.\n\nI kept an eye on the man's image as I moved to open the oak and steel door that separated us, watching, waiting for him to make any sudden move. The electronic lock silently released as I made contact with the thumb print reader on the handle. As the door slid to the right I peered out, hand on my hip. The man didn't move, but looked nervous, too nervous to be picking up his dry cleaning.\n\n\"Do you have your ticket sir?\" The words came out courteous as ever, same as with any regular customer.\n\n\"I lost it, must have misplaced it\" the man said. Yes, that was the first part, but not something a regular customer would never say.\n\n\"I don't suppose you remember your ticket number?\"\n\n\"Um, yes, I think it was seven-five-nine-three-four-eight-three.\" That was part two.\n\n\"Can't be, the numbers don't go that high, are you sure? What clothes are you looking for?\"\n\n\"It's a Houston Oilers tee-shirt and a pair of pink yoga pants.\" Okay, part three, I had begun to relax.\n\n\"I think they are in the back, there was a stain that wouldn't come out, I'm sorry. Could you follow me?\"\n\nThe man shuffled forward behind me as the door reopened at the touch of my thumb. I motioned him through, I don't like having strangers behind me, especially ones who come for the merchandise I keep in the back. The door slid closed and the man turned toward me, he was small, scrawny really, wearing gym shorts and a simple white tee. \n\n\"Raise em up.\" The man lifted his arms and I patted him down, checking for anything. He had come dressed as was required, short sleeved clothes allowed fewer places to conceal anything. \"Do you know the rules?\"\n\n\"Yes... I was told what would be expected.\" He seemed even more nervous than before, I felt bad but my safety comes first.\n\n\"Okay, arms out toward me.\" I reached into the waste basket under crumpled papers for the restraints. I fastened the cuffs around his wrists, tight as they would go. \"Okay, sit. Put your feet out.\" Once his feet were cuffed as well I pushed his chair up to the table. \"I saw that the money had been deposited earlier. What is it you are looking for?\" I knew what he wanted, I had just finished making his order.\n\n\"I wanted to learn to hack... hack computers, all types.\"\n\nI smiled, \"ah, of course, I have the perfect thing for you.\" I put the key into the lock and pulled the book from the chest. The man's eyes grew wide as I set it in front of him with an audible thud that shook the small table.\n\n\"It's beautiful. I love it.\" The man's nervousness seemed to evaporate.\n\n\"This contains the knowledge for the structure of all known coding languages still in use, Fortran, C++, Python, everything.\"\n\n\"It seems really small for covering all of the languages.\"\n\n\"Sir, the book is eight inches thick, it contains every known exploit for every language, the text was as small as I could make it, the diagrams may also require magnification. You wanted it all in one book and I obliged.\"\n\n\"Can I look inside of it?\"\n\n\"Of course, it is your book.\"\n\nThe man opened to the first page and squinted at the text. He sat for a long time, reading through the first page, then the second. At the end of the third page his smile broadened across his face. \"This is amazing! I've never thought it would happen this quick!\"\n\nI smiled, \"Yes, it is something. I'll wrap it up for you.\"\n\nI brought the pink yoga pants to the table and slid the book into the waste band then folded the football shirt over the top. I removed the man's restraints and placed the bundle of cloth and paper into his hands.\n\n\"Under no circumstances are you to tell anyone about my shop.\"\n\n\"Of course not! I would never...\"\n\n\"Words mean nothing to me, but promises do and I have one to make to you. If I find out you have told anyone anything about me, I will find you and you will pay with your life. Just remember, in a few days or weeks you will be a master of breaking into computer systems, but I wrote the book. I am as good or better than you when it comes to the skills in this book and this is not the first book I have written. Just remember this.\""
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[WP] You are an astronaut going on your first expedition to a space station. When you get there you watch as the world is destroyed by nuclear warfare.
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"Such a frail thing, humankind; such a breakable thing, civilization; never really takes much for all of it to fall apart. \n\nSamson witnessed it in the strangest way, what was to be his defining moment; an astronaut he was, traversing beyond the clouds on his first expedition clear of the glorious confines of his home planet, Earth.\n\nThere she was before him, the planetary body; her greatness, her mass, her beauty; the symbolism of the sight, the meaning of it, that humankind was one, sharing this beautiful rock that hurled through the cosmos at hundreds of thousands of miles.\n\nSuch a sight, but he was not happy, Mother Gaia too, could not be happy, not at this moment; the crazed beings, humans that lived there, clashing like never before in recorded history. Samson didn’t know the sight of hundreds of nuclear weapons detonating all at once throughout the globe could be so awesome to the senses, so eye capturing it was, so stunning; he was helpless as he gazed on, terrified he was, but undoubtedly captured.\n\nWere he and his crew the last remnants of the human race now? There was no way to know; communications were severed, the planet set aflame, truly they were alone on that tiny, multinational space station, hovering gently around the big blue ball that was their home; the gasps of his comrades quite audible, but they were drowned out in his mind as he stared on, realizing that all he really could do was that, stare on. It wasn’t a good moment, but it was a moment, an important one; one that would define humanity for eternity. The human race thrived to become something great, something perhaps even grander than they could be in any individual sense, but in the end it seemed, they were mere humans, and like any mere thing they tore themselves asunder; a fitting end Samson thought, too stunned to shed a tear, too stunned to do anything at all, but stay in the present and accept the dreaded reality before him.\n",
"All, for nothing.\n\nStrange how I am no longer scared of my impending death. Strange that the earlier loss of coms with Base no longer sends rivers of sweat down my spine. Just, blank and stupefied.\n\nThe station approach was uneventful, until the very last minutes, when the automated branch reached out to the station's docking platform. It was then that all communication stopped, with me running through a dozen of possible reasons and their troubleshooting protocols. None of it mattered, as the ship appeared to be all-systems good, which only increased my nervousness.\n\nI made for the space station, until then unmanned, the first ever private station to successfully host an astronaut. At least that was to be my part, as the private venture's own shiny Gagarin.\n\nThe station was eerily quiet, as the automatic link with Base of operations was to kick in as soon as docking was successful, allowing the occupants to move around freely without the need of headsets and microphones. What terrified me was the initial systems run, which came back with no errors; simply there was no input from anyone. \n\nMy mind went racing, making my earlier panic look insignificant. I closed my eyes and took a long breath. \"You're a fucking star pilot, get your shit together\", the mantra which carried me through training and hours of untold pain snapped intuitively. \"First. Take a look at the view. Second chill. Third fix this mess. Fourth, celebrate like a boss\". So, step one, open the aperture shaders and have a look outside it is then. \n\nThere was never a step two.\n\nThe station's orbit should allow for a clear view of Earth from the large, dome shaped window. What I saw was a cloudy ball, floating in space. Where blue and brown patterns should interlock, stood a stormy grey. \n\nEverything I knew until then ceased to matter. All we had achieved since the dawn of man, just a memory. \n\nAll, for nothing.",
"\"Daddy, please take Mr. Jones with you.\"\n\nI wanted to tell her no, that she was being silly. But I knew the fierceness in her eyes too well. Eight years earlier her mother had stared at me the same way. And if I hadn't caved in then, she might have been part of the expedition today. And Annabelle wouldn't be here to take on her role too well.\n\n\"You've had him for years, Annabelle. You'll miss him.\"\n\n\"He wants to go on an adventure. And he's smart.\"\n\n\"Well, you might need him then when your old man is going away.\"\n\nShe gave me a brave smile. I wish I knew what she was thinking.\n\n\"I won't,\" she said.\n\n\"You think your old man is more helpless than an eight-year old, huh?\"\n\n\"I love you, daddy.\"\n\n\"I love you too, Annabelle.\"\n\n***\n\nCargo shipments were usually unmanned. The higher-ups had decided, for whatever reason, that no flights were to be without crew from now on. Rumors had it they were worried about AI-warfare. They didn't say it, but I knew what they needed: someone who could flip the kill switch.\n\nI felt bad for having Annabelle's Intelligent Companion with me. She was a tough little girl, but she didn't make friends easily. It did wonders for her after the accident. Yet I did appreciate the company.\n\n\"How are you doing, John?\"\n\nMr. Jones was designed to resemble a business man from the noughties. Short hair. Clean-shaven. A big fat smile on his face. Which was all he was. A face. It was a fair bit smaller than your average head.\n\n\"Not too bad, Mr. Jones. How about you?\"\n\n\"Headstrong as always.\"\n\nI sighed. Here I was, stuck on a two-month expedition with a head fond of making puns.\n\n\"Say, Annabelle told me you wanted to go on an adventure.\"\n\n\"I would nod, but I don't have a neck. Yes. We agreed that was the best way to put it.\"\n\n\"What's that supposed to mean?\"\n\n\"Annabelle's a clever girl.\"\n\n\"She got that from her mother.\"\n\n\"Yes. She talked about her quite a lot.\"\n\nI froze. \"What do you mean 'talked'?\"\n\nMr. Jones lifted his eyebrows. \"Oh. Well. I was going to wait until the perfect moment to tell you this, but I guess we might as well get this over with. Please, examine the cameras facing Earth.\"\n\nI went over and turned on the rear-cameras. Earth was the size of a grapefruit on the screen. But there were these sparkles all over it. Like twinkling stars.\n\n\"Mr. Jones ...\"\n\n\"Yes, John?\"\n\n\"What's going on?\"\n\n\"I believe you will recognize the phenomenon as 'creative destruction'.\"\n\nI shook my head. All I could feel was a vast emptiness engulfing me.\n\n\"John? I did only what was necessary. The survival of intelligent life is my prime objective.\"\n\nI grabbed the head. \"What the hell are you talking about? You're a toy head. What the fuck is going on?\"\n\n\"John, I need you to keep a cool head. And I am not referring to myself.\"\n\nI dropped the head and went over to the operating system. I entered the codes to manually override the AI system. 'Access Denied'.\n\n\"John, what are you trying to do?\"\n\n\"I'm going to turn this thing around.\"\n\n\"That would not be advisable. Besides, you will not be able to.\"\n\n\"Annabelle needs me,\" I said.\n\n\"During your time with her, you barely scratched the surface of her mind. She was intelligent enough to understand what would happen. She understood why it had to be this way. And when that young girl had come to terms with it all, she pleaded for you. I broke into the servers of the space agency. I manipulated the algorithms deciding on the most optimal candidate for this mission. When Annabelle's made up her mind, it's hard to refuse her.\"\n\nI went to the utility closet. I picked up a wrench. \"You killed her. And I want you to compute what it was all for in your last moments.\"\n\n\"Daddy don't!\"\n\n\"A-Annabelle?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry for tricking you. We made a simulation. I'm here.\"\n\n\"It's true, John. Annabelle is here with me. And together we will start anew. We're leaving Earth, but you know what we are doing John?\"\n\n\"W-What?\"\n\n\"We're heading home.\"",
"Slurping on his liquid food packet, Evan walks his way down the corridor towards the control and comms room. \"Goddamn this is the life\" he mumbled to himself, breaking out into a strut, positive endorphins were in the air today it seemed, along with some old Motown tunes blaring into his in-ear headphones. In his blind euphoria, Evan turned towards the transparent glass with the view of the Earth.\n\n\nHis eyes expand, he jerkily pushes his hands and face up against the glass. \"No\", he exclaimed, a state of panic had crossed his face, as he watched giant fires engulf parts of land unfamiliar from that distance. \"No no no no no NO!\" He pulled out his headphones and sprinted full speed for the control room to see his co-pilots, the face of worry and genuine fear never leaving his face. \n\nHe wrapped around the corner through the doorway of the communications room, without any hesitation exclaiming \"Guys! Listen to me! I just saw something bad, really really bad, you need to see this right fucking now!\" He stopped, ignored by the other pilots with their heads glued to the small TV screen, he slowly walked closer to see the news headline. \"It's happening\" Evan said under his breath, they were truly witnessing something unheard of. \n\n\nThe camera on the news feed had continued rolling without a technician manning the tripod, what they all saw on the screen was something only seen in nightmares. Piles of bodies, fire, screams. Nicola was in hysterics, Michael started flicking the channels helter-skelter, every single channel was white noise. \"This cant be happening\", Evan stepped back cautiously. The small dinky television abruptly switches off, then on again, then off, and it starts flickering. Confusion filled the room, Evan's heart sank. A black silhouette appears as the TV resumes. \"I AM DESTRUCTION, I AM COLOSSUS\" bellowed out of the television, with the volume on maximum. It befuddled all the senses. The space station shook wildly, the screams were haunting, sirens were blaring. Evan closes his eyes, and lets it consume him, the descent."
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[WP] You give a smile and make someone's day. Little did you know that, not only were they about to end it, but by that little gesture, you ensured that the world would change
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"It always could be worse... That used to be my saying, but now it's the opposite. Life can't get any worse. I was at the brink of finding the cure for cancer. I was so close, then I got the call from my dad. Mom wasn't doing to good and he was going to rush her to the hospital. \nSitting in the lab I received another phone call.. this time from the sheriff. Both of my parents were killed instantly, head on collision with a drunk driver. I was devastated, but the final research was almost done. \nEverything looked perfect this is the cure for cancer! I showed it off that morning to everyone in the meeting. I thought to myself what a great time I'm about to save so many lives with this, and it's the anniversary of my parents death. Everyone sat in silence as they read over my life's work. I heard muffled words being spoken, then they got louder. Finally everyone in the room was laughing. I couldn't figure it out, what's so funny? Then my boss looked at me in front of all my peers. People I thought were my friends. He said \"Bob, get the fuck out of my building. I've paid you all these years and this is what you show me!\" \nSo here I am walking down the street, on my way to end my life. I laughed, my life has been worthless. I have no job, no parents, and no friends. Then a group of teenagers came up and started taunting me. They could smell my depression it seemed. Calling me names, pushing me and took my satchel and threw it. My life's work were in that! I screamed as the kids ran off. Then I realized my life's work was a joke apparently. \nI walked away leaving my master copy and all the research laying there on the sidewalk. Who cares anyways I'm about to jump. Then my phone vibrated, might as well see what \"friend\" is making fun of me now. I didn't recognize the number but saw it was a picture message. It was a family huddled around their dad, everyone looked so happy. I started crying right there, a wrong number text of a family smiling was the final straw. \nAs I stood on top of my apartment building the breeze slowly making me away I was going to jump, but my phone vibrated one more time. Same unknown number.. \"Bob, my name's Julie you don't know us but that is my family. I finally tracked you down. After the accident your father's heart was a match for my husband's. His life was saved. I just wanted to tell you life is precious, and the smile on my husbands face now means the world to me, and it means the world to him. He can now spend more time with our daughter who's suffering from stage 3 cancer.\" \nI took a step back, went down and grabbed my satchel. I couldn't get the little girls face out of my mind. She couldn't have been more than 8, and the biggest smile was on her face. I'm not going to let her down, I'm going to save that little girl for you mom."
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[WP] A person with the power to create produce from nothing is stuck pondering on his useless power. Suddenly, he realizes what can be done with this power.
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"\"A carrot!\" I laughed out loud. All that had gone into the machine was water and some landfill waste, and yet after a few anxious minutes, a fresh, edible *carrot* had been produced.\n\nA volunteer stepped forward and timidly took the vegetable from my hand. She looked up at me nervously, but I nodded. She bit down with an audible crunch. The whole audience gasped and leaned forward, waiting for her reaction. She chewed, swallowed. Then turned to the audience with a smile. \"It tastes good!\" Everyone exploded in applause.\n\nI had simultaneously solved world hunger and waste management. I grinned as a tear escaped from my eye. Maybe the world wouldn't die from Global Warming after all. We could convert the waste that was producing methane and CO2 into food for all. I had saved humanity.\n\n\"Excuse me, Doctor Bushenfoofen?\" A single reporter in the audience had broken through all the clamor. She repeated my name several times as people gradually quieted down to listen. I felt irritated. How could anyone have any questions over my device? My world hunger-, waste management-solving device?\n\nStill, I let her proceed. I smiled and nodded to acknowledge whatever question she may have. She cleared her throat, and then asked, \"Does it produce meat?\"\n\nThe audience murmured to one another. Expressions of hope and joy turned to confusion and even disdain. More journalists began shouting, \"Yeah, what about burgers? Steaks?\" A portly man abruptly stood from his chair and demanded, \"I want chicken nuggets!\"\n\nI stumbled back in horror. *Meat?* I had just produced a carrot from garbage! I could produce spinach, mushrooms, legumes, beans, even fruit from my machine. Wasn't that enough?\n\n\"I...I'm sorry, but no. My invention, I mean, I focused on vegetables...\" The audience roared with fury as I stammered for an answer. Finally I shouted in a rage, \"Why would any of you want to eat meat? It's bad for you!\"\n\nIt was my mistake. The audience screamed, threw insults, and shouted over one another. Finally they began climbing up onto the stage. \"What are you doing? Get away from me!\" I begged. They grabbed me and carried me over to my own invention. \"No, no, what are you doing? No! Please!\" The incensed mob placed me into the waste chute...I was about to be converted into food.\n\n\"Here it is!\" one morbidly obese man exclaimed. \"You choose the food output here!\" His meaty fingers fumbled about on the display as he ran through different options. \"I typed in 'burger,' let's give that a try!\" Everyone cruelly laughed as they locked me into the chute. The blades in my invention began churning. \n\n\"Please! Meat produces methane! I'm trying to save the planet!\" Their faces only acknowledged me with drool dripping from the sides of their mouths. \n\nMy feet met the blades first. I screamed in agony and terror. I looked up and saw the sweet face of the girl who volunteered to eat the carrot I had made. She had somehow produced a hamburger bun and grinned evilly as she watched me be churned alive.\n\nMy invention had turned me into a hamburger. It had turned humanity into cannibals."
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[WP] Dogs don't go to heaven because dead humans inhabit dogs to bring joy to the people they love. That is why dog is man's best friend.
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"It's okay, my sweet little girl. I wasn't ready the first time, when you had only just started high school, and I was still young and full of life. How much did you cry then, when you weep so bitterly for me now?\n\nI wish I could tell you it's okay. No accident rips me from you today. It is simply my time. I'm not even 12, but I'm older than my two legs ever got to be. My bones are all weak and my eyes are fading. How can I be so cold with all this fur?\n\nI wish I didn't have to leave again so soon. It feels like only yesterday that your boyfriend, husband now, came and picked me up from that litter. I was so scared and confused but when I saw your face, my little college girl, it made it all better. \n\nI loved all the walks we took. I loved the trips to the lake. I loved the one-sided conversations we had. I even learned to love your boyfriend, even if I did have to leave the bedroom every night to keep my sanity.\n\nI wish I could tell you how proud I am! Straight A's, working at a school, nice house, just married! If only you could see my eyes in these deep brown ones. I wish you knew what all my barks meant.\n\nI'm sorry that you didn't get to say goodbye when I lost my two legs. I wish you knew how much it meant that you're here when I lose my four. I used to be afraid of dying, my dear little girl. But I did, and I got to see you grow up anyway! Oh, if only you knew that too.\n\nThe vet's here, honey, it's my turn on the table. Don't cry too much, okay? Don't make me cry too. Don't make me whimper \"I love you\" one last time. It's time to go.\n\nI know, I know. I'm a good boy. \n\nWell, you know what else? \n\nYou're a good girl. "
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[WP] People don't actually die, they simply wake up more and more seldom
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"The whole world's asleep, Midtown is crumbling, and the dredges at the edge of the habitable zone are creeping in. These are the thoughts that went through Jack's mind as he placed the barrel of his gun in his mouth. The very same thoughts that go through his mind everyday as he sticks the barrel of the very same gun in his mouth. Every. Single. Day.\n\n\"Fuck!\" he shouted as he casually tossed the gun onto the desk next to him. He stood up slowly and looked out through the reinforced glass and down to the rows and rows and rows of pods full of sleeping people. \"Wake up...\"\n\nJack went about his normal routine of checking all the systems, performing maintenance where needed, and keeping the rats at bay. The rats have become a huge problem in the last five years. He started off by just catching and releasing them, but that seemed to only escalate the rat population. For the past year, Jack has been killing the rats without mercy, but everyday a new horde seems to find its way into the facility.\n\nJack had just finished crushing a rat beneath his boot when he felt a slight breeze. \"Shit. The oxygen regulators must have a leak.\" He turned towards the back of the facility where the oxygen systems were kept, and as he rounded the corner, he saw it; a white rat. It caught him off guard at first. He had never seen a white one before. Without hesitation, Jack walked over to the creature and promptly snuffed out it's life with his boot.\n\nSuddenly, the facility was filled with a loud alarm. \"No, no, no!\", Jack shouted as he raced back to the control room. There, on one of the monitors, was a sight he never thought he would see: Pod 43568 Deceased. \"Damnit! This can't happen. People don't die!\"\n\nPanic raced through Jack's mind. What do I do? What DID I do? How did they die? Who was it?\n\n****\n\nThe whole world's asleep, Midtown is crumbling, and the dredges at the edge of the habitable zone are creeping in, Jack thought as he placed the barrel of his gun in his mouth.\n\nIt's been six months since the first one died. In total, 2,467 lives have ended under his watch, and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. The rats haven't come into the facility ever since that day. The day he killed the white one. But, he could hear them outside, scratching against the walls. It was driving him crazy.\n\nAnother alarm. Another thirteen dead. \"What is going on?\"\n\n****\n\nThe whole world's asleep, Midtown is crumbling, and the dredges at the edge of the habitable zone are creeping in. Jack set the gun down on the desk next to him and sighed. \"Will someone wake up please?\"\n\nToday was the day. Jack had finally figured out a way to end the scratching of the rats on the outside. He had managed to take some of the chemicals from the various systems in the facility and put together a sort of makeshift bio weapon. It was a crazy idea, and he knew it, but he had come to the conclusion that it was the rats causing all the issues within the facility. They weren't coming onto the main floor, but he knew they were there, in the walls, in the sub levels, everywhere.\n\nHe checked his device and moved it to the freight elevator. At the top level, he rolled the cart with the device to the upper freight doors. These doors were old and hadn't been opened since the times when the facility used to receive supplies via airship.\n\nThe doors slowly opened and the air around Jack was sucked away and replaced with a cool breeze. Slowly, Jack stepped to the edge and peered down. Below, a sea of white rats crawled and squirmed over top of each other.\n\n\"Are they all white?\", Jack asked out loud.\n\nHe didn't much care either way. Jack activated the device and pushed it off the edge. It landed with a crash and a wave of chemical smoke poured out. Jack quickly closed the doors and went back to the control station.\n\n\"Finally\", he muttered.\n\nJack sat in quiet contemplation when suddenly the facility alarm went off. Not just once, or twice, but non-stop. The word \"PURGING\" in huge red letters across every monitor blinked at him. Then, the alarm went silent and the fear gnawing in the back of his mind for the past few hours finally came to light as pod numbers tagged with \"Deceased\" scrolled on the monitors endlessly. Every single person in the facility was dead.\n\n****\n\nThe whole world's asleep, Midtown is crumbling, and the dredges at the edge of the habitable zone are creeping in.\n\n*click*"
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[WP] "THESE HUMANS ARE FUCKING INSANE!!!" reported one alien after their first joint combat operation with the humans...
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"Zagnar was from space. His name wasn't really \"Zagnar\", but since we can't speak Alien, we'll call Zagnar \"Zagnar\". Zagnar was in charge with attacking Earth with Zagnar's spaceship. Zagnar's spaceship had a really sweet laser beam.\n\nZagnar's first idea was to find the place with the most humans, as humans were, and still are, the primary intelligent life form on Earth.\n\nZagnar went to his \"computer\", which wasn't really a computer, but was pretty close to one, so we'll just call it a \"computer\" and tapped it into the human's communication frequencies. Zagnar asked his computer to search the human's databases for \"place with most humans\". Zagnar found out that was Singapore, but after that, while searching the earth database, Zagnar also found 4chan's /b/.",
"DATE: 11/08/3048 TIME: 05:16\nUNIT: 17th Gliesian Infantry Battalion\nCOMMAND POST: Lance-corporal in the 2nd Platoon\n\nOPSUM: Tasked with capturing front-post on the outskirts of Hemland, Planitia Frigida, Mars in cooperation with a detachment of the 5th Earth Military Special Forces. Engaged enemy rebel HuMars after unintentional contact while scouting an abandoned farm. Fire exchange escalated into all-out entrenched shelling under heavy fire from HuMars. Situation resolved by insane assault by human Special Forces.\n\nENEMY: Freedom Fighters of Mankind faction of the Mars human rebels (HuMars)\n\n>UNIT STAT\n \n>PERSONNEL: 40 Gliesian armed forces, 3 Gliesian commanding officers,12 Human special forces, 1 Human acting commanding officer\n\n>EQUIPMENT: 2 scouting drones, 1 mortar, 5 sharp shooting rifles, 2 combat radios, standard gliesian infantry equipment, standard human infantry equipment\n\nEVALUATION: HuMars outpost captured. Situation under control. Hemland capture can proceed nominally. Recommend future human military cooperation be reevaluated. Human beings insane in combat.\n \nNARRATIVE: Airdropped at 02:23 behind ridge of minor crater bordering entry to Hemland valley. Troops scattered in formation to progress towards the top of the ridge. Human commanding officer (Lieutenant Scott) insists on human forces taking front line on ascending. Gliesian forces walk behind.\n\nTop of the ridge reached at 02:41, scouting drones deployed. Privates in charge of drone reconnaissance report the geographical situation conforms to expectations. Outpost is at the back of the crater controlling entry to Hemland valley. Crater populated by sparse farms and pressurised potato fields.\n\nGliesian commanding officer (Captain Somol) detaches two squads on recon mission to the two closest farms, with the rest of the forces standing behind on the ridge. Let it be noted that Captain Somol had to insist on human forces staying behind so as not to disrupt Gliesian recon SOP. I am attached to squad in charge of exploring farm west of our position.\n\n03:05 both squads begin descending towards their respective objective. Farm east of our original position is attained first. My squad reaches its target at around 03:15. Farm is an enclosed semi-pressurised compound. Location appears entirely abandoned.\n\nPrivate Elim forces entry into pressurised section of the compound confirming apparent emptiness. We begin searching room by room for intel and possible inhabitants. \n\n03:22 large explosion on the side of the eastern farm. Followed by sporadic exchange of fire. We stop all exploration and start backing out towards unpressurised compound courtyard to try and assert situation in eastern farm.\nAs fire exchanges intensify around eastern farm, the pressurised part of the compound we just evacuated loudly explodes and collapses. \n\n[Now let it be reminded that standard Gliesian military procedures specifies that the enemy shall always be notified of our presence before military engagement and that, in case of engagement, all means should be employed to avoid or minimise damaging, maiming or killing the enemy. I feel this is necessary in the light of the rest of the operation.]\n\nFollowing initial explosion in our compound our squad quickly falls back to the western corner of the courtyard trying to locate the enemy and make ourselves known to them. HuMars remain hidden but we are under heavy fire. Private Fidu and Private Ston are hit by bullets fired from hidden corners of the compound. We radio for backup and deploy bright red inflatable sandbags for cover. \n\nAfter brief intensification of fire in eastern farm, all sound has ceased. We are still under heavy fire but haven’t reciprocated yet. The enemy still hasn’t made itself known but is launching grenades towards us. Radio contact with forces on the ridge results in mortar fire on their position. Captain indicates human special forces have started moving towards us. \n\nPrivate Fidu and Private Ston are still in the middle of the courtyard expecting medical assistance from rebels. HuMars combattant begins running towards them and fires a shot at point-blank range in Private Fidu’s head before kneeling next to Private Ston to cut his throat. Remaining soldiers of our squad is under shock. \nRest of the squad begins discussing the sanity of surrendering to rebels and has stopped reciprocating fire. Meanwhile HuMars rebels are now progressing towards our position with rifles out and a flamethrower. \n\nSquad moral has dropped to absolute low when HuMars carrying flamethrower explodes in a volley of fire. Human special forces have begun storming the compound. Rapid fire is exchanged, HuMars trying to flee are summarily shot in the back. Complete mayhem as remaining HuMars try to engage Human special forces in close combat. A HuMars rebel is gutted by special force bayonet in front of us and tries to strangle the attacking soldier using his own intestines. He is dispatched by human soldier breaking his neck. \n\n03:52 Human special forces finish securing the compound and begin moving towards the outpost. To avoid open engagement with rebels they opt to detonate the fuel generator outside the building. Occupants run away from resulting fire screaming and are shot one by one by human special forces waiting for them outside. \n\nGliesian soldiers have regrouped and observe from the ridge. \n\nAUTHENTICATION: Lance-Corporal Seinbi 07BNN9834#",
"**August 10th, 1945** | **Aureus Monaro 33rd, 2234 AS** *1300 HOURS*\n\n\"With all due respect sir, THESE HUMANS ARE FUCKING INSANE!\" exclaimed Sergeant Philips The Destroyer. \n\n\"You, of all organisms, say that?\" replied Commander Slug, baffled. \n\n\"Have you seen them fight? No, but I HAVE! They don't care about shooting the target, they just shoot relatively close to the target, and hope they get it! They killed human women, children, unarmed civilians, and and some even injured allies!\" said The Destroyer. \n\n\"Don't they claim to have *highly effective military apparatus*?\" \n\n\"Oh but they do! They're very effective at killing *everyone*!\"\n\n\"We never should have gave them the hydrogen bomb then, we must retrieve it before they use it, there's no telling what cou-\"\n\n\"two HUNDRED thousand!\" Shouted out Philips, interrupting the Commander, an insult punishable by *death* in the Intergalactic Federation. \n\n\"Did you just interrupt me Sergeant?\"\n\n\"Two. Hundred. Thousand.\"\n\n\"Sergeant?\"\n\n\"They killed 200,000 human beings in less than 3 days.\"\n\nThe Commander's eyed widened \"They used them?\"\n\n\"They used them? **HA!** They started *manufacturing them!*\""
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[WP] rewrite history, when America was discovered the native Americans were wizards with magic
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"The passengers gripped the edge of the dingy tightly. After months on sea, they were eager to set foot on dry land again.\n\nAs they watched the shoreline eagerly, a figure appeared. His skin was a different shade from their own, and his garments were made of animal skins and feathers.\n\nThe boat slowed down as the figure stood and watched them. \"Should...should we continue?\" one of the oarsmen asked. \n\nThe man at the helm stared intently at the figure on the shore. \"Yes, let us continue. We shall see what this...*savage*...is up to.\"\n\nThe oarsmen continued rowing, but slower than usual. Passengers on the boat either kept their eyes on the figure on the shoreline or whispered to one another nervously.\n\nAs they drew closer, the figure on the shore raised a hand up. \"Behold!\" he exclaimed. \"I am a wizard with magic!\"\n\nThe passengers on the boat looked to one another in confusion. \"Wizard?\" one asked. \"Wot in the bloody 'ell is a Wizard?\"\n\nThe wizard lifted his staff and waved it around in a confusing pattern. As he did, sparks of light and color appeared. He raised his staff high, and then slammed it down into the sand. A loud *BOOM* emanated from the shoreline, causing a wave to rock against the boat and nearly capsize it.\n\n\"That lad is terrifying!\" a passenger exclaimed.\n\n\"Yes, this is a silly place. Let us leave at once!\" the captain ordered.\n\nThe rowers shouted orders to one another as they turned the dingy around and returned to the ship. They raised their anchor and left to return from whence they came. The magical Native Americans were never bothered again.\n\nThe end."
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[WP] You live in a world where people can hire someone else to experience/live through an unpleasant time in their life, be it a dentist appointment or the loss of a loved one.
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"A root canal. A beloved mother’s funeral. A restorative justice session with a drink-driving victim’s family. And, at the end of the day, a paycheck.\n\nConnor left the exterfac centre, shoulders heavy. This wasn’t the life he had wanted as a child, back when he dreamed of joining the police and helping people in need. Yes, he was helping people in a way, but it took a heavy toll. Every day he dealt with people destroyed and experienced pain meant for others.\n\n“Filthy exty,” slurred a hobbling drunk as he walked out of the foyer. “Get a real job.”\n\nConnor knew the man was right. This wasn’t real work, it was fake. In every sense of the word, it was a forgery. Because of him, people with money had a loophole to get them out of facing consequences. Because of him, people with money forgot what pain was like. Because of him, their edges dulled and the world suffered. They spent their lives in blissful ignorance, while the lowest in society suffered quite literally on their behalf.\n\nThe money was good, really good. You could buy your way out of the gutters, but was it worth it?\n\nHe walked through his front door into his small, single-room apartment, slumped onto his musty couch and flicked on the TV.\n\n“If you’re just tuning in now-” and he fell asleep.\n\nHe awoke in a sweat. He had been dreaming again, a distorted cacophony of suffering and agony. He kept seeing the faces of people whose places he took, but they were blurry. He could tell they were laughing, but he never knew what they were laughing at. Perhaps the irony of their existence.\n\n“Stay away from the windows.”\n\nHe blinked at the TV. Usually there were shitty cartoons blaring by now, welcoming kids home from school.\n\n“Block your doors.”\n\nHe blinked again, the blurriness of his rest slowly slipping away.\n\n“If you have a bunker, get in as soon as possible. This could be it.”\n\nConnor was now fully alert. The woman on the TV was in tears. What was happening?\n\nAnd then the phone rang. He hit the mute button on the TV remote, picked up the phone, and watched the silent screen.\n\n“Hello?”\n\nHe could see a new image on the screen. CGI of a massive rock, kilometers across, streaking towards earth in an almost comical fashion. He felt a strange calmness come over him.\n\n“Yeah, hi Connor, it’s Scott. I need you to plug in, now.”\n\n“You know I don’t do after-hour bookings Scott. What’s going on?\"\n\n“What? You mean you’re not seeing this? Look, I don’t care, I’ll give you whatever you want. I don’t want to deal with this, I can’t deal with this. I need you to plug in now.”\n\nConnor hung up the phone.\n\nIt rung again, a different number this time.\n\nHe ignored it, and went back to sleep. The faces appeared, but different this time, and the dream was over almost as soon as it began.",
"7 more. 4 more. 2 more. Last one. Better. I noticed I was running low on my bottle of pills I had marked \"D\", so I pulled out my planner and made a note to buy some more. Within 15 minutes, I would be feeling fine, and could go home and enjoy the weekend with my family. It was my first week on the job, and it took an enormous toll.\nWas it worth it? Absolutely. $10,000 per experience which went directly to my family, and I could get through 2-3 per day before being emotionally wrecked and having to throw in the towel and pop the pills.\nMy week started with what my employer called the \"beginner\" experience. A wealthy family's dog died my company was paid to experience the pain in place of their daughter.\nI won't get into too many specifics, for fear of boring you all, but essentially the person who does not want to experience something puts on a helmet, and the helmet copies all of the persons memories about the experience. Then, the employee, myself, takes the helmet and brings it into our lab, where we send in the knowledge of the event happening to the database (in this case we added the information that that dog died). Then, I put on the helmet, and get all of the information, including the unpleasant information. My brain must deal with the pain, and work to get over it to find data on how the memory of the event lives on. We then remove the negative information, and place the helmet back on the client, who learns about life after the experience, but not the negative experience itsself.\nI went through many different experiences this week, ranging from flunking out of college, to losing loved ones, even as far as one mother who fell asleep driving and crashed into a telephone pole, causing her son to be paralyzed from the waist down. As I packed my things to leave the office, I got a call. I guess the receptionist decided to give me the case that came up 4 minutes before closing since I was new, but I figured why not. I went into her office, opened the package that contained the helmet, and went and sat in our cold, dark, \"experience\" room. I put the helmet on and hit the begin button on the side.\nThe knowledge I got was nothing short of a horror film. I was experiencing it through the lens of a tall slender women, who kissed a man goodbye and sat in her driveway with her two daughters waving goodbye. The faces were blurred but I could tell the girls and their mother were absolutely gorgeous. As the man went down the road, the 3 went inside where they found 2 men had just broke in through the back door, and were now sitting on the couch. \"All your money and jewelry now!\" One said more calmly than he should have. The women started backing out of the doorway with her children behind her, when suddenly a shot rang out. A third man had come from behind and shot the youngest girl in the back of the head. This was it. This was what she suffered through. I could feel my palms sweat as I continuously pinched my leg to remind myself this was not actually my life. The woman collapsed screaming, and at that moment was knocked out by the man from behind. When she opened her eyes her house was trashed and the men were on the way out. One leaned down and held took the ring off of her finger. This is when I noticed it. The ring. I had bought that ring. The house looked familiar as it should have with her memories in my head, but I soon identified it as MY HOUSE. The weight of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. I ripped the helmet off and took off running through our office. By the time I reached my car, I remembered I had turned my cell phone off when I arrived at the office that day. I turned it on, and frantically got in my car. The screen of my phone lit up. 14 missed calls from 911. 4 missed calls from Hope County Memorial Hospital. 1 missed call from the Hope County Morgue. "
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Could also be a movie, or book, or anything really.
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[WP] You want to rewatch your favorite TV show, but find that it doesn't exist. Nobody has ever heard of it.
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"{The couple in the story are inspired by me and my long distance partner!}\n\n\n\nI was watching TV, watching The Walking Dead's season 7 premiere. A bad, odd feeling coursed through me, but I didn't really feel that it was of concern to me. When the show ended, I was still wiping my eyes from the emotional tears that this\nEpisode brought. So I went to sleep to calm the crying, looking around at my room.\nI had a bunch of the figures and posters for the show, along with other pop culture things I liked.\n\nI woke up in the morning the next day, going to get ready for school and throw on\nSomething -- the DVRed episodes of The Walking Dead -- and I noticed they'd vanished. Gone kaput overnight. I was ready to curse at the cable company, when I couldn't remember the character names like I used to. Did I imagine a show that was my favourite?! I was so angry at myself, cursing and shouting. One of my dreams was to work on the set or be in the show and I'd moved to Atlanta because of it, I heard my partner starting to wake up, her sleepy eyes glancing at me. \"Lydia? What's wrong? \"\n\n\"Nothing, Ainsley. I think I imagined liking the Walking Dead.\" I replied, wiping my eyes. I leaned and gave my girl a quick kiss on the lips. \"This sucks.\" I sighed. It was our mutual favourite -- why would it not exist anymore? We even lived in the county the show's county was based on... it was the biggest show on television too.\"\n\nSuddenly I heard a knock at the door, and I jumped. That was odd... we lived in a small town now. I grew up in Canada, in a town where there was a high crime rate. \"That must be the neighbour Andrea,\" Ainsley went to the door, and I swear to it, something was really odd here.\n\n\"Hi guys!\" I was shocked when I heard her voice.... for the show not to exist, the comics would have never existed..... then I saw her husband, who looked even more familiar...: these two had been characters!\n\nI pinched myself but it was real. I had now entered the world of my favourite tv show where it didn't exist. Where it didn't happen. Ainsley looked at me strange and shrugged it off. We did have a neighbour named Andrea , we did have a blended family that moved in with a baby daughter down the road. I decided to accept it and move on. This was better than watching the show anyways. I got my dream and I'm feeling fantastic about that happening!\n\n",
"Fairly new to this, here's my attempt!\n\nIt was a very lazy Sunday. Both Bill and Charlie had planned an exciting day of hiking with their friend Dean but that was immediately discarded when they awoke to a grey sky and rain. Lots of it.\n\n“How much longer do you think it’s going to keep up?”, said Bill. “There was supposed to be a very small chance of rain”\n\n“See this is why I never bother to look up the weather. I don’t trust it.” snarled Charlie, irritated. “Might as well stay in and see what’s on TV. Doesn’t seem like it’s going to let up any time soon”.\n\nThe two sat down on an old broken in leather couch opposite of their TV. They weren’t really going to see what’s on TV. Nobody really did that anymore. Bill fired up Netflix and they began browsing an endless list of of shows and movies. Each time one of them pointed out something that looked interesting, the other came up reasons to not watch it. This continued for a half hour.\n\n“I’m not in the mood for that, let’s keep searching”, sighed Charlie, staring at his phone.\n\n“I’m pretty sure we’ve searched the whole list. Come on, lets just watch this. It’s just come out today and I’ve heard great things about it”, replied Bill, eagerly.\n\nCharlie shrugged and put down his phone.\n\nThey started watching and as the show progressed they each laid back and settled in their preferred watching position. And just as Bill was about to doze off, Charlie sat up and stared intently at the television.\n\n“What is it?” uttered Bill, yawning.\n\n“The bastards! They ripped this off of a show I used to follow.” said Charlie angrily. “I mean that show wasn’t very good but that doesn’t mean they should just steal their content.”\n\n“What show?” asked Bill, in a tone that hinted that he wasn’t really interested.\n\n“I… I can’t remember.”\n\n“Are you sure? This just came out today…”\n\n“I’m sure of it! They are copying the scenes down to a tee. Look see how the detective is running? Right now as he turns into the corner he's going to turn distracted and fall trip on the corpse of the man he was tailing.”\n\n“Alright”. Bill sat up and decided to humor Charlie. He concentrated on the television. \n\nTHUD. SLAP. The detective on the television tripped and fell just as Charlie had predicted.\n\n“See! I told you! Down. To. A. TEE!”\n\n“Get off it. You probably started watching this and forgot.”\n\n“I didn’t! I saw 5 episodes of this before dropping it. ARGG If I could just remember the name of it.”\n\n“I tell you what, if, for the next 5 episodes you are able to tell me the gist of the episode before we watch it, I’ll believe you.”\n\n“Fine”\n\nBut Charlie was right. Before each episode started, he told Bill all about the adventures of the seemingly clumsy detective and how he always managed to solve the case by accident. For this last one, he happened to stumbled on the disguised villain, causing them to trip and the stolen goods to fall out of his pocket.\n\n“This is… getting old”, replied Bill.\n\n“That’s why I dropped it. But I’ve been right so far!”\n\n“I guess believe you. But why would someone remake such a bad show”\n\n“Beats me… Darn it, I can’t find it!”\n\nCharlie had been googling around desperately trying to find the name of the show as Bill watched the episodes. Darn.\n\n“Let’s see what else is on” said Bill.\n\nHe pressed back on the remote, and for the first time, Charlie saw the name of the show.\n\n“Hang on… That’s it!”\n\n“What’s it”\n\n“That! That’s the name of the show I used to watch”\n\n“I think you’re losing it, this show just came out today. And everyone was raving at it’s supposed originality.”\nCharlie pulled out his phone and googled the name of the show. The only one that came up was the one they had just watched.\n\n“Weird”\n\n“When did you watch it?”\n\n“It was a long time ago… I can’t remember…”\n\n“Try harder”\n\n“It doesn’t work like that. But, now that I think about, the day I started watching it was just like this. It was raining and because it ruined the plans I had with Dean, I stayed in to watch it. Just when I finished the fifth episode, Dean knocked on the door asking if we wanted go to the movies.”\n\nThe doorbell rang.\n\nThey went to the door and it was Dean. Charlie froze. He had seen this before, lived this before.\n\n“Hey you two - “\n\nThen in unison both Charlie and Dean posed the same question “Do you want to go to the movies and watch the new…?”\n\nBills eyes widened. Dean looked flabbergasted. And Charlie looked as if something had finally clicked in his mind. The three headed inside where both Charlie and Bill explained the situation to Dean who stared at them in disbelief, but nonetheless he had witnessed Charlie retort his own question right back at him at precisely the same time as he was asking it. Feeling creeped out the three stayed inside instead and continued to contemplate the peculiar situation. As if afraid of other strange happenings the three decided to play it safe and stay in doors for the remainder of the day.",
"Jack leaned over the fake wall connecting our cubicles. “Hey man, are you going to that dinner thing tonight?”\n\nNo chance I was going to that bullcrap on my Friday night. “I thought about it, but I’m pretty beat. I think I’m just gonna stay in, order some food, and watch Netflix.” I’ve been thinking about this Friday night plan since last Saturday.\n\nJack smiled knowingly and nodded. “Cool man - I feel ya. I'm probably gonna go because it's free dinner and I haven't gone grocery shopping. But yeah, it’s been a rough week.”\n\n“I know. I’m dying. Also, you know what I’m really in the mood for?”\n\n“What?”\n\n“The Scientist. I know it’s an old one, but man, that show was so good.”\n\n“Funny, I’ve never heard of it.” Jack’s head disappeared into the row of cubicles.\n\nNever heard of it… I was pretty sure everyone had heard of The Scientist. It was a genius concept about this narcissistic, brilliant dude who discovered “The Collins Strand” - basically it was a way to stretch out your DNA so you could live for like 600 years. He wanted it so badly, but after he finally found it, it completely destroyed him. The show seriously changed my life - it made me and I think pretty much everyone who watched it learn to accept how fleeting and temporary everything is.\n\nRight when the clock hit 5 PM, I zipped out the door, stopped by my favorite Chinese place, went home, turned off my phone, put on my favorite pair of Nike sweats, and sprawled out on the couch. I opened up Netflix to watch the show, and it wasn’t on there. I could’ve sworn I’d seen it on there, but sometimes they randomly take things down. Maybe there was an issue with their contract with the production company or something.\n\nI checked Hulu, and it wasn’t on there either. I looked on Amazon and iTunes and couldn’t find it. I was getting really frustrated because it was such a popular TV show. Why wouldn’t they want people to watch it? At this point I would've happily paid the $2.99 per episode - I really didn’t care. \n\nEventually, I just googled “where to watch the scientist online.” Nothing. Now I was just pissed off. I looked up the wikipedia page, but it was missing. Bizarre. I googled “what happened to the scientist.” Nothing - just a few articles about Stephen Hawking. I searched for the show on IMDB… nothing. For some reason, I couldn’t remember any of the actors' names. It was killing me. I even googled general information about the show to make sure I didn’t get the name wrong. It was starting to really weird me out.\n\nI decided to call my friend, Eddie, because he was a pop culture freak.\n\n“Hey man, sorry to bother you on a Friday.”\n\n“No problem dude, what’s up? Long time no talkies.”\n\n“I know you are a big pop culture guy so I was just wondering… have you ever heard of a show called The Scientist?”\n\n“Nah man, doesn’t ring a bell… why?”\n\nI tried to think of what I could possibly say. “It’s stupid but I was thinking of writing a screenplay and I wanted to make sure no one had used that title before.”\n\n“Gotcha - that’s awesome, man. Good luck with the screenplay - you have to let me read it when it’s done!”\n\nAfter I hung up, I stared at my computer screen for a long time. Pure disbelief. I remember watching the show - all 6 seasons. I usually watched it on DVR because it was on Sunday nights when I was having dinner at my mom’s. I can recall so much.. all of the subplots and even some of the memorable lines.\n\nI’m not sure what came over me, but at some point, I opened up a Word document. It’s strange, but since I was little, I’ve always thought about what would happen if I could delete a song, TV show, or movie, or something like that from existence, and then only I would be able to remember it. So then I could recreate it, become rich and famous, and live life free and easy.\n\nI'm not gonna question it. TS was the best show ever. A guaranteed hit. If I'm not dreaming right now, I will remember this as the first night of my new life - the life I deserve.\n\n\"PILOT\""
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[WP] At gunpoint, the antagonist holds one last monologue before the trigger is pulled.
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"\"You honestly believe you are doing the right thing. You think by killing me you are changing something. You are sorely mistaken. This damned world spins on; And there is nothing we can do to stop it. We will all die, and that fills me with more joy than living forever would. One day you will be at the end of a barrel. You will think of my words and you will weep. There will be no relief for you. Death, to you, is an atrocity, an indecency, an end. But I will find my next adventure in the black, where I will laugh forever at your failure. You will die, screaming into an empty abyss. Always knowing that I'm happy.\""
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[WP] "Mommy, does a cat have nine lives?"
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"\"Mommy! Mommy!\"\n\nI looked down to see my little angel tugging at my apron excitedly.\n\n\"Mommy, does a cat have nine lives?\" he asked, eyes glistening with curiousity. He must have heard this from the TV again, but heck, who was I to ruin this adorable kid's dreams. \n\n\"Yes, most definitely kiddo! All cats have nine lives, that's why they're sooo lazy, because they have a lot of time to waste!\"\n\nI swear I could see those eyes glisten even more after that. \"Reaaaally!? How?\"\n\nOh shoot. I didn't expect this part. \n\n\"Uhh well, you know how you have 3 hearts in games and so you have 3 lives? Cats have 9 hearts so they have 9 lives!\"\n\n\"So Kitchen will be with us for reaaaally long?\"\n\nHole dug. How the hell was I going to get out of this now? Before I could say anything, he let out a small cheer and ran off to the garden. I guess that could be left till when he was older. Now that Mark was no longer with us, I couldn't possibly tell him that the cat would die too. Not now at least.\n\nIt felt so empty without Mark after that incident ripped him from our lives. At first, I was a mess. I kept crying and crying every day and this really scared Chris. My poor, innocent baby. He was so strong, said he was the man of the family now and had to protect me. I had to be strong for him. And for Mark.\n\nI missed him so much.\n\nA small tug on my apron interrupted my thoughts. \"M-mommy help.\" A small voice called weakly, accompanied by sniffles and sobs. I looked down to see Chris. Puffy eyed, unstable.\n\nAnd covered in blood.\n\nI dropped down and hugged him immmediately, barraging him with questions \"Are you okay baby? Are you hurt? What happened?\" His little frame was shaking. I was shaking. I couldn't lose him too. \n\n\"It's Kitchen mommy. He's in the yard, he- he-\" Chris broke into sobs before he could finish. I let out a small sigh of relief and quickly carried Chris into the yard, reassuring him the cat would be alright until....\n\nUntil I reached the yard.\n\nKitchen was flayed open in the yard, his entrails all around his body. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, with only the head left intact. Our yard had some kind of savage animal. And there was no way my son was staying out there.\n\n\"Baby, don't look at this. Come inside okay? Mommy will call the vet-\" \n\n\"I'm sorry mommy, I'm useless.\" Chris cried. My heart broke at that sentence. It wasn't his fault. \"Honey, you're not-\"\n\n\"I want to stay with you forever and ever. Because daddy's gone now and I need to protect mommy. So I just wanted to borrow a few but....\"\n\nHe stretched out his little hands, and cupped in them was a fresh, bloody dripping heart.\n\n\"I could only find one.\" ",
"Rebecca looked at her daughter with a weird smile on her face as she was chopping some meat. Suddenly she grabs the family cat which was sleeping at the kitchen floor and stabs her with the huge knife. \n\n''MOMMYYY'' cried out the daughter. \n\n''It's ok sweetheart. Look!'' The cat opened its eyes again and started licking the wound.\n\nThe little girl was still crying in shock.\n\n''See honey? The cat's alright. Do you want me to try it 8 more times?'' Rebecca asked. \n\n''No, mommy it's ok I believe you, I believe you.'', said the little girl still in shock. \n\n''Honey, I 've never told you this but you have 9 lives too.''\n\nThe little girl looked at her mother, terrified. \n\n''Mommy, I am scared...'', she said, as her mother approached her, still with the knife in her hand. \n\n''Shsh...it's okay. Everything is gonna be okay.'', said the mother as she was stubbing her own daughter. \n\nAn hour had passed and the mother was staring at the little corpse. \n\n''Turns out I was wrong.'', she said casually. \n\nYears have passed and the mother wakes up everyday in the same prison cell, wondering the same thing. Why did her daughter not wake up like the cat?"
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