Split (1)

train · 199k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 8 314	comment_texts listlengths 1 74	num_stories int64 1 74
	[WP] We live in a world where it is impossible to die unless you kill yourself, you are the world's greatest hitman and your target is a strong willed general in the army	[ "Hello, General.\n\nDon't bother. The men bound you tight. I mean you no harm.\n\nTruly, I don't. The people I work for just wanted me to have a chat with you. You'll go free afterwards, I promise. \n\n...\n\nNow I said I'd talk with you, so you'll have to contribute or I'll just be monologuing. Why do you think I'm here?\n\nThat's what they want. I'm asking you why. \n\nThat would happen if they got what they wanted. I'm asking you why.\n\n...Yes, you could say so. \n\nThe gods, in their wisdom, spare us death and what comes after unless we show our willingness to face it. We both know there are fates worse than dying, but-\n\nExactly! We don't know. The dead cannot tell us, and the gods and Heralds refuse to. And it is not cessation of consciousness. The gods have confirmed that, and the Fourteen-\n\nIf you insist.\n \nWhatever it is, What Comes After strikes fear in the hearts of the gods themselves, and the mere shadow of its reflection made fourteen Heralds-\n\nNo, it's a reasonable conclusion, General. Nothing in this world could be worse than What Comes After.\n\nBut is that a reasonable standard to hold the world to? \n\nI'm not begrudging you the soldiers. They knew what they might face. But the commoners...\n\nTell me, is it reasonable to dismember children and nail them to walls because their fathers fought against you? Is it reasonable to open the bodies of women who resist you, to get inside them one way or another? Is it reasonable to bury the sick and feeble alive until their lungs burn and worms eat into their-\n\nIt wasn't the worst that could have happened?! Being set on fire is worse than a small burn. You'd still feel it if I put out this match on your skin! And they may fear you now, but in time fear will turn to hatred and they will rise-\n\nNot just the commoners. Come forward, gentlemen. \n\n...\n\nWhy the surprise? You enabled, encouraged the monsters in your ranks, and you taught the rest of them that only power and cruelty matter. They feared you, but in time they began to hate you and... well, here we are. \n\nNo, your commander friends won't be coming to save you. I should know. They hired me.\n\nHere. The warrant, signed by all thirteen of them, and the choice they offer you.\n\nTake heart, General. You'd be helping the bright young students at the medical academies further their knowledge. Besides, new theories are put forth there all the time, new advances tested. You may very well contribute to the next medical breakthrough. Isn't that a far better fate than What Comes After?\n\nOf course, it's a long way from here to the capital. I'll need to save space somehow, even if a few of these gentlemen accompany me, and they'll get bored at some point. And we'll probably pass through some of those towns again. I'm sure the townspeople will be very happy to see you...\n \nWell, that was a good chat. And a promise is a promise. I'll even let you choose:\n\nDo you want my help, or would you rather do it yourself? \n\nIf you want my help, just say yes. I'll write to Command informing them of your arrival and help the others dispatch the rabid dogs in your army. The men here can get started on disassembling you. We'll leave for the capital at dawn. \n\nIf not, blink twice. I'll cut the ropes around your arms. You can use the knife afterwards. \n\n...\n\nStubborn to the end.\n\nWell. \n\nWhenever you're ready, General. \n\n..." ]	1
	[WP] Your leg was crippled. "MEDIC" you screamed in pain. A man in a yellow jersey ran up and began dragging you back. Suddenly you could walk again. You grabbed a ball and chucked it at the enemies. WWIII had begun, and it was a war of dodgeball.	[ "######[](#dropcap)\nWith the morning...came the mourning. \n\nThere he came, just over the hill. Charlie Spinolli himself, the grizzliest fourth grader in the school, walking like a centipede with 98 missing legs. His brow and fake 'stache he bought from a vending machine at a 7/11 was caked with dirt, as well as actual chocolate cake from Susie's birthday bash during fourth period. In his hand was a single red ball, his fingers angrily clasped around the surface. \n\nThe fog of war reduced visibility to a mere six meters, and that meant that the squad was entrenched, but they didn't know that, because neither of them knew what the word 'entrenched' meant. \n\n\"We're sitting ducks out here!\" snarled Winston, wearing a tactical duck costume and is only now realizing the detriments of such attire. He fumbled for his inhaler amidst the chaos. \n\nCharlie threw the ball as fast as he could, but he didn't know if it met his target.\n \n\"We're losing too many...\" spoke Charlie, resting his arm against the dirt wall.\n\nUp ahead, Jimmy was back from his rounds, dragging one of the scouts back to safety. The scout had been struck in the forbidden place. \n\nThe balls. \n\nThe enemy was playing dirty, just like the magazines Jimmy had hidden underneath his mattress. \n\n\"You're going to be fine!\" shouted Jimmy over the concussive 'BOING!' sounds of balls hitting the ground. He tapped Ed on the shoulder, and soon, the scout was back on his feet. \n\nBut one scout wasn't enough to turn the tide of battle. \n\nCharlie took a drink from his juice box and did a head count. \"What happened to the Kevins?\"\n\nSighing, Jimmy sat dejectedly into the trench. \"They didn't make it, Charlie.\"\n\nIn the distance, the entire team could hear the cries for help of the Kevins across the field, their position obscured by a veil of mist. \n\n\"They're...they're gone?\" said Charlie, his lips trembling.\n\nEd spewed a line of curses. \"Gosh diddly darnit!\"\n\n\"I'm assuming command.\" spoke Charlie with this hungry look in his eye. \"And I'm taking this company to victory.\"\n\n\"Contact! Left side!\" Watch yourselves!\" screamed Ed, using a rolled up piece of paper to amplify his voice. \n\nA hail of balls rained down on the squad, utterly helpless. \n\n\"What do we do, Charlie? I don't wanna die!\" sobbed Winston, who is still wearing this duck costume for some reason. \n\nCharlie shook his teammate's shoulders, trying to get the fear out of his system, slapping him in the face with a box of Crayolas (Not RoseArt crayons, oh god no). \"Winston, get it together! We gotta take life by the balls!\"\n\n\"Hehe, you said balls.\"\n\n\"Hehe.\"\n\n\"Hehe.\"\n\n\"Hehe-wait a sec- Get it together, Winston!\"\n\n\"I-I'm trying-\"\n\n\"Do or do not. There is no try.\" said Charlie in a gravelly voice. \n\nEd deflected an incoming ball with his own arsenal. \"Did you just quote Star Wars?\"\n\nIgnoring him, Charlie brought the scared fourth grader to his feet and handed him two balls. \"Grab those balls. Give them all you got, Winston.\"\n\nAt that moment, time seemed to linger on, sort of like my mother-in-law. \n\n\"NOOOOO^OOOOOO^OOOO!\" screamed Charlie at the top of his lungs, watching as Jimmy's head whipped backwards, a red ball impacting his barely developed jawline. \"JIMMY!\"\n\nBut the medic was gone, for good, just like Jimmy's father who said that he'll be out to get some milk. \n\nEd rushed over to his friend. \"Oh god...Jimmy! Don't do this to me!\"\n\nJimmy waved him off. \"You can't touch me...please leave...while you can...\"\n\nCharlie could hardly comprehend what he was hearing, probably because he has mild tinnitus. \"Jimmy! What?\"\n\n\"I...I have cooties...I'm...I'm sorry...\" Slumping over to the fetal position, Jimmy was now out of the game.\n\nEd dodged another flurry of throws. \"We have to retreat!\"\n\nCharlie took out a fish stick he had stuffed in his back pocket and noisily gulped it down. \"No. We fight. These fifth graders will pay. For Jimmy. For the Kevins.\"\n\nWith that, the three remaining players emerged from their pit of despair and dirt, balls in their hands and fire in their eyes. Through the valley of grass and monkey bars, they feared no evil. They feared no devil. Except detention. Detention was godawful. Especially with mean Ms. Mueller. She smelled like ranch dressing if ranch dressing consisted of the tears, mucus and sweat of the elderly people. She makes that slug-receptionist in Monster's Inc look like Natalie Dormer. She's so ugly she's like the opposite of beautiful. If she stepped on a land mine, it would improve the fluidity of her unibrow and mustache. Really, I could go on, but we're nearing the climax for the sake of story progression.\n\nSeeing the trio advance, the other fifth graders ran out to meet them, letting out a battle cry that is probably not an appropriate volume level for in-door classes. The two teams ran towards each other like two trains, one having left Albany at 1:30 PM at 40 kilometers an hour, the other leaving Montreal at 2:15 at 60 kilometers an hour, assuming constant speed. \n\nCharlie, Ed and Winston didn't have a plan, but they were ready to die, unlike my mother-in-law. \n\nAs the mist from the dry ice machine faded away after the janitors brought it back inside the gymnasium, one could see the grisly aftermath. Dozens of bodies sprawled out on the floor, bruises over their eyes and stuffy noses due to the allergies the spring brought. \n\nBreaking the silence was a shrill whistle, coming from their overweight gym teacher at the other side of the field after he was done catching a Dragonite on his iPhone 6^TM.\n\n\"All right, kids, time to head in.\"\n\nEd quickly rose up. \"Alrrreeaaady?\"\n\n...\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Once again, you stare into the abyss. This time, you may have leaned-in a bit too far...	[ "Last time I was here, I didn't see anything. This time, it is very different. \nA orange glow wormed it's way through the impenetrable darkness. \n\"Interesting\". I thought.\nAs I walked slowly towards the light I could hear a faint sound... Is that music?? I crept forward, leaving the safety of my bedroom closet behind. \nEvery so slowly I inched forward. My once cocky bravado now gone as the slight patter of my heart increased. \nI could hear the music better now... But what about safety? Here I am in my jeans and flannel walking too far in. It feels almost normal.... Almost like... \nHome. \nThe closet door slams behind me,throwing me into near full darkness. \nThere is only one way out now. \nThe glow. \n\n\n\n\n\nTentatively I inch forward... My footsteps barely making a sound. I call out \"hello\"???? \nStupid. What if there's someone... Or SOMETHING waiting in the shadows?? What if I step off the ledge.. Ledge? There cant be a ledge here? Can there?.\nStop it tyler. You're overthinking. \nThe glow has grown in size... About the size of a football.... I must be getting closer. The music seems to have stopped, although my heart is still pumping a furious beat. Out in the distance I see the outline of a hooded figure.\n\nIt is running. \n" ]	1
	[WP] You are like a telepath. However; you don't hear their thoughts. You hear their deepest desires.	[ "I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:\n\n- [/r/rigaudon21writing] [My own Prompt - \\[WP\\] You are like a telepath. However; you don't hear their thoughts. You hear their deepest desires.](https://np.reddit.com/r/rigaudon21writing/comments/5a1mo4/my_own_prompt_wp_you_are_like_a_telepath_however/)\n\n[](#footer)^(If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads.) ^\\([Info](/r/TotesMessenger) ^/ ^[Contact](/message/compose?to=/r/TotesMessenger))\n\n[](#bot)" ]	1
	[WP] Write a fairy tale that is based on a true event of the last fifty years.	[ "Once there was a kingdom where everyone was happy. They were ruled by a king and a queen, and they each lived in a big castle with many servants and guards and ladies-in-waiting and squires. And they had a son, the prince, who also lived in a castle. But his castle was a ways away from theirs. The king ruled justly, and many people liked him\n\nThen, one day, from the east, there came four monsters, great dragons with skin made of steel and bellies ful of fire. The first some flew roaring towards the King's castle and spewed fire at it, setting it ablaze as all the people of the kingdom watched in horror. They knew that dragons inhabited the lands to the east, but for a dragon to come here? It was unheard of and frightening.\n\nThe second dragon set the Queen's castle alight as well, and flew off, laughing as the castles crumbled to the ground, with many servants and guards and ladies-in-waiting and squires still inside.\n\nThe third dragon attacked the Prince's castle. But the castle was too large, so he set a wall on fire and left before the guards could kill him.\n\nThe destruction caused by the dragons caused people to become very afraid. The markets closed as people rushed home to be with their families.\n\nBut wait, what of the fourth dragon? \n\nHe perished. He wished to burn down the villages. But the first villagers he tried to burn were brave, and fought against him. Finally, as he swallowed the last villager, the dragon fell, dead to the ground, as the last man cut the inside of his throat.\n\nTo this day, we remember the destruction caused by the evil dragons. Their master is dead, but it will not bring the poor villagers and servants and guards and the others back.\n\nBecause sadly, not every story has a happy ending. But that does not mean that we should forget them. Indeed. Stories such as these we must never forget." ]	1
	[WP] After years of seeing groups of mercenaries and chosen ones meet up in your bar and head off to epic adventures, you finally decide to stop cleaning that mug and become an adventurer yourself.	[ "Orion's mail didn't fit. It fell loose and heavy across William's shoulders, swaying and clinking with each step taken. He shuffled forward, an animated, uncoordinated suit of armor, a one-man pot-and-pan orchestra. Ahead, the village loomed—then vanished as his helmet visor clunked shut.\n\nSweat crawled all along his body, and William wished desperately for an ounce of bare skin to wipe it away. He changed his gait as he approached the village gate, alternating quick and slow in an attempt to cool himself, but to no avail. William reached the entrance an armor-cooked bartender, marinated in his own perspiration. He made a mental note to withhold chastisement the next time Orion left his chair drenched in sweat.\n\nThe tavern, though unmarked, was obvious; it was the loudest place in the village. He swung the doors open and felt the room turn to watch his entrance. The chatter wavered. It was a different world on the other side of the bartop. Hostility emanated from every patron. He was a stranger invading their senses, trespassing through their lines of sight, clinking and thudding over their conversations, brushing against stray arms and legs. William walked, unwelcome, up to the bar. He could feel the bartender's hungry stare prying into him for coin.\n\n\"What will it be for you?\"\n\n\"Information,\" William said, slamming a few coppers on the countertop, \"More specifically, the location of the goblin stronghold.\"\n\n\"It's right here, you nitwit.\"\n\nWilliam spun around. Now that he looked more closely, most of the patrons were goblins. Their stares had turned to glares; clearly, they had heard his question. He could hear swords being drawn from various places within the room.\n\n\"You looking to start something, human?\" The biggest goblin he'd ever seen thundered up to him: no sword, no armor, just a large hunk of green lashed by scraps of cloth. A hundred muscles rippled in unison as he squatted to meet William's eye.\n\nWilliam rattled in his armor, hand fluttering by his sword hilt. \"The g-guild,\" he said, making sure to divert responsibility, \"they want your leader to pay your debts.\"\n\n\"You're awfully armed for a debt collector.\" The goblin clapped his fist into his palm. \"I suppose they told you to use force if necessary?\"\n\nThe quest posting, William reflected, said to use force from the outset. In fact, it demanded the head of the goblin leader as proof of deed. But it seemed impossible now; his neck was as thick as stone, and William's sword dull as cutlery. He denied the question, taking a small step backwards towards the door. His mail clinked, and everyone heard.\n\n\"Going somewhere?\" A grin crept along the goblin's face, revealing all the way up to his raw, red gums. Thankfully, he made no move to stop William. \n\n\"Forgot my papers,\" he said, and the entire bar laughed, humans and goblins alike. \"I'll be in touch with you.\"\n\nThe chatter resumed as William exited the bar, receding as the doors closed behind him. A final roar of laughter, presumably from the goblin giant, punctuated his departure. William's heart was still pounding as he slunk away from the bar, following whatever paths seemed familiar. As the adrenaline began to fade, and his body regressed to normalcy, fatigue arrived, gnawing at every muscle. For an hour, he walked, conscious of nothing but his physical movements. \n\nSomehow, he found his way back to his town. As the familiarity registered, so did the disappointment. He had botched his quest. He had nothing to speak of but his life. William trudged towards the tavern, his refuge: Orion would be there, and he'd have a good laugh, but right now, he needed a drink.\n\nInside was chaos, but the welcome kind. Goblins were thankfully absent tonight. William pushed through the crowds and all the way up to the counter. \"Pour me a beer,\" he said. He grimaced as his hand met the countertop: it was sticky. Empty bottles and mugs lined the entire bar. \n\nBehind the bartop, Orion turned away from a group of angry mages and wiped his forehead with a beer-stained rag. He peered beneath William's visor, and his eyes widened. \"Oh, thank the gods, it's you. Get me out of this mess.\"", "Tiring of my life as an innkeep, I'd decided to cast my lot in as an adventurer, a chance to see the world, learn new things, perhaps even go down in legend. The mercenaries had laughed at me when I tried them. I was too old to join the army and couldn't afford tuition for the wizards academy so i decided the only way was for me to join the bad guys.\n\nThe cult lay in the background of our realm and more. Most had never heard of it. I had only pieced together its existence from years of hearing drunks spill their secrets over cheap ale. No one man knew the whole truth of it, and those who spoke too loudly were often never seen again. Over the years I'd gathered enough evidence, and braving my luck one moonlit night had said prayers to the evil god whose name must not be spoken. His acolytes visited in the night, door still locked and deadbolted they stood above to give me my orders. \n\n\"In the exact same inn I worked in before\"?\n\n\"Yes, and wear the same uniform while you're at it\".\n\n\"To await the chosen one and give him a quest\"?\n\n\"A very important quest\".\n\n\"To go collect some bear skins\"?\n\n\"You see, what better way to stop him than by letting nature do the work for us\"?\n\n\"Didn't he kill a dragon last week with a thunderbolt\"?\n\n\"Tell him to get twenty, that should do it\".\n\n\"They're never going to beat him, he's just going to get more experienced\"\n\n\"Our prophet has figured out how our realm, and all the others truly work. We see the outsiders invade and we wait. We bide our time. We sell our wears and come along on quests, help kill a dragon or two. Eventually the invaders stop coming, their souls leaving our world for another to wreak havoc on some poor other poor villagers. But we follow, getting stronger every year. And we wait.\"\nHe smiled now and offered his hand, his face now visible as he leant into the moonlight, his features plain and nondescript. He whispered words of patience as I embraced my new brothers.\n\nThe controler dropped out of my hand and landed safely on the mattress covering most of the floor of my tiny room. The few games I had I'd replayed so many times that I'd taken to roleplaying as NPC's, anything to take away the hours in a day. They didnt realise that I was real, but they would. I'd go along with the plan, level up slowly game to game, and when they had their day of reckoning, I'd have mine.", "Another rousing cheer erupted from a shadowy corner of the room. By this point I didn't even bother looking up from wiping down the counter. It seemed like every five minutes another band of solemn warriors, plucky striplings and rogues with a dark past and cloudy future set off on yet another quest. Idly, as I moved to clear some glasses, I wondered what it would be this time. Would they rescue the princess, vanquish an army of evil orcs, battle a dark sorceror bent on taking over the kingdom? I didn't care. Business was booming, and I was a very blithe bartender indeed.\n\n\nA knight in battered armor grinned as I set a pint down in front of him. He opened his mouth (which had considerably less dental denizens than usual), presumably to ask if I had heard any rumours lately. Before he could ask that tiring but quintessential question of the barkeeping profession, the door burst open and trumpets began to blare as soldiers filed into the room. A very short man dressed in offensively orange garb was lifted up onto a table. Fantastic, Lord Harte himself.\n\n\"Hear ye, hear ye, and that sort of nonsense. King Olaf has placed a bounty of one hundred thousand crowns on the dragon that lurks in the Moon Mountains. The scaly terror has kidnapped our beloved princess Erica, yada-yada, blah blah, her hand in marriage, the Standard Hero award. You know the drill. Have at it boys-\"\n\nA coven of warrior-witches glared at him, tapping their broomsticks and making gestures that suggested something was about to shrink significantly if certain amendments were not made. Harte gulped.\n\n\"Err, lads, ladies, trolls and various creatures of unknown origins, the King wishes you the best in your quest and prays for the safe return of his daughter. His Majesty is not responsible for any mortal wounds, decapitations, armor dents or the capturing and use of your soul for nefarious purposes sustained in the course of your efforts and will not compensate you for such. Good day, and Goddesspeed!\"\n\nWith that, the soldiers formed up around him as he hopped from the table, and marched out of the bar. The door closed, and suddenly everyone was chatting excitedly about what they would do with one hundred thousand crowns, the best way to kill a dragon and how to enchant one's clothing so that it would not catch aflame. I continued to collect glasses and wiped them down. This was not my fight, I just serve the drinks.\n\n\nGradually, they started streaming out of the bar, the witches, the knights, the thiefs, dwarves, trolls and creatures of unknown origin and certain danger. Finally, there was only the knight in battered armor left. He chugged his tankard of beer, slamming it down on the table and wiping his moustache with a mail-backed fist. Leaping up out of his seat, he drew his sword and brandished it in the air. \n\n\"Fear not, humble barkeep! Sir Fonglod the Foolish will slay the beast and return Lady Erica to her rightful place in no time!\"\n\nWith that, he lurched unsteadily out of the bar. I looked around at the dark, empty room, and decided to go back to polishing my glass. \n\n\nWeeks passed and I saw fewer and fewer new adventurers until business stopped entirely. My glasses were squeaky clean, and I was going out of my mind with boredom. The door opened, and I looked up eagerly, but saw nothing. Footsteps drew closer and closer, and I laid a hand on the bar club just in case.\nA hand grasped onto the counter, and the singed, sagging figure of Lord Harte hoisted himself up onto a stool. He looked me in the eye, and I could see how exhausted and bloodshot his were.\n\n\n\"You look like you need a stiff drink milord.\"\n\n\n\"They're all dead\" was the only answer I got in return.", "The Silver Flute Inn never saw a great deal of business. Even in the winter months, when the days were short and wayfarers were easily enticed through the doors by the aroma of a good stew, it was unusual for three or more rooms to be occupied at once. The explanation for this was simple: nobody hung around for long in Densway.\n\nYthofus buffed a circle on the counter, flourished his cloth, and then stole into the back room to pause on the rim of an ale barrel. His fiery red hair was nearly long enough to tuck into his belt, now, which provided him a source of infinite amusement; how his mother would have flayed him to see it! But of course, his mother wouldn't see it. With any luck, she would never set eyes on him again.\n\nThe innkeeper's thoughts were interrupted by the soles of at least six feet, he predicted, treading across the threshold. Immediately he rose and went out to attend them, cloth still brandished in one hand. He'd not been wrong; three men had entered, slung about with bags, belts, and swords, and were fast approaching the counter. Travellers. 'Chosen Ones,' no doubt. Ythofus swallowed a derisive snort. It simply wasn't enough to be an adventurer any more. The Kora frowned upon it, made slaves of the trespassers and burned those unfit to serve like it was some sadistic sport. Hunting was hunting. Whether or not the travellers were doing any harm was irrelevant.\n\nThree ales were ordered, poured, and served in motions so well practised they were almost automatic. \"Need rooms?\" Ythofus asked, disappointed before he'd even heard the answer.\n\nThe tallest man, Kelle, grunted. \"Can't hang about, mate. Know how it is.\"\n\nYthofus gave a single nod and returned to the spot he'd been buffing prior to their arrival. As he worked, his ears strained to catch the low murmurs of their conversation.\n\n\"One, five - it's all the same to me. They're all as good as busted, anyway.\"\n\n\"Ain't got the brains to tie their own shoelaces.\"\n\n\"Aw, iunno, Laz. I ain't one to dirty a sword just 'cause I can. They're oafs, but they don't deserve to die. We came for the ruby, anyways. You remember?\"\n\n\"But to get the ruby, you gotta get past the Kora. I say we take 'em as we find 'em.\"\n\nYthofus resisted the temptation to roll his eyes, because he wasn't supposed to be listening, and because there were three of them and one of him. Another plot to steal the Kora's prized, extraordinarily well guarded ruby. \n\nGood luck with that.\n\nAfter they'd left, the innkeeper set down his cloth and fixed his vacant gaze on a table across the room. Unlike many of the travellers that passed briefly through his doors, he had no desire for wealth, fame, or notoriety - nor did he fancy serving Kora for the rest of his miserable existence. He was driven by a far more powerful, soul-consuming emotion.\n\nBoredom.\n\nBut then, this was Densway. It was impossible not to be bored in a village that huddled itself around a single, beaten old road. \n\nIn a ten-year moment of impulsiveness, Ythofus lifted the bar hatch, retrieved his coat, sword, and small leather bag that contained all of the personal effects he held value to, and stepped out onto the road. He didn't lock the door behind him. He wasn't coming back.\n\n\n\n" ]	4
	[WP] Write a story about a person who is so oblivious to their own life and what's going on.	[ "It became a daily question for John. \"How are you?\" He found it strange that he was always being asked this question. Not so much as a common greeting, but instead as if everyone around him noticed something they weren't sharing. When asked, as if on autopilot, John would always respond with a smile, \"I'm fine, thanks.\" This went on for weeks. Then one day, the questioning stopped altogether. \n\nHis friends and parents would stop unexpectedly at his house with a six pack of beer or his mom's famous lasagna. Just because they happened to be in the neighborhood. John always found it strange that his family and friends never ran into each other or happened to be in the neighborhood on the same day. Weeks turned into months. \n\nFriends and family would come over to help around John's house. Do the laundry, clean the dishes, pack old pictures and unworn clothes into boxes. John appreciated the help but always found it strange. \n\n\"We all miss her deeply John. But we need you to know that we're here for you,\" his mother would always say before saying goodbye. \n\n\"I'm fine, thanks.\"", "Zak was only 16 now, but if you looked past his muscular, brisk outside, you might think he was just 2 years old. His parents had given him up when he was born, and due to his facial defect no parent had wanted to adopt him. He moved from orphanage to orphanage before he even reached 3. Then the orphanage burnt down. A bad child, a teenager, or something. He couldn't really remember. And now he's homeless, on the streets of Newark.\n\nAfter 13 years of comfort, everything had changed. Zak was used to being fed and sheltered. The nice old lady on the corner would come outside and feed him, like a stray cat. Yet suddenly, she didn't come out anymore. A big red car came one day, and they took her away. There was commotion and sirens, and he hadn't seen her since. After waiting 5 days for her return, a new feeling kicks in. Hunger. It was summer time, so shelter wasn't a problem, but the soft strands of food he was used to were no longer accessible. He decided roaming the area was the best idea. People gave him funny looks all the time. People are weird. He was perfectly normal, why they stared at him so much he had no idea. They all opened their mouths and these weird sounds came out. They did it to eachother all the time. And on all the big stones there were marks. Everyone seemed to understand what they meant. Weird. Moving from place to place, he couldn't find anything that looked like what he had lived off of for the majority of his life. He decided to take a break and rest. Sitting on a wood slab by all the passing hunks of metals, people continued to give him weird looks as they walked by. Whatever, he said to himself. He laid down to take a nap, when something was placed on top of him. He quickly jumped up, only to see himself fling a small metal circle, and a tall blonde woman walking away. What was that? This went on all night. People leaving small metal circles around where he was trying to sleep. People are so inconsiderate. This went on for weeks. Roaming the streets, looking for the soft strands. Hunger clawed at his stomach as if he had eaten a lion. The pain made it harder to search. Traveling nonstop, passing people, giving him weird looks, handing him metal pieces and sometimes paper pieces. Finally, he could feel the life slipping away from him. It had been almost a month since he had eaten or really drank. He sat down on one of the slabs. He was passing out, going unconscious, he could feel it. A man rushed over. The man made the weird sounds just like all of the other people. He smiled, hoping he would go away and let him die as he had lived, in peace. The man pulled something out of a holder on the cloth he was wearing. It was very strange looking. He had occasionally seen people roaming the area with these in the past. It had two soft pieces of tan, and assorted colors and shapes in the middle. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with it, so he took it and hugged it to his chest. A parting gift from the nice man, for him to die with less than a day later." ]	2
	[WP] As an avid DnD player, you never leave home without you 20-sided die. One night you get ambushed by muggers, one of them trips you, making you drop your die. It lands on 20.	[ "Is this a sign? _Its just there, sitting showing that perfect 20._ I've played many classes, done a million rolls. And yet I've never gotten even ONE...\n\nThis is a life and death moment. Is this what the RNG gods is telling me? To take that 20 and give chance a... _true chance?_ \n\nI must be dreaming. _the RNG gods never blessed me in any of my games._ \n\nNo! If rolling a 20, _even by accident_, on something that means life or death, for real this time, can mean something. It must be this! \n\n_I could be a superhero!_. This must be what the gods truly want from me! To use luck as my power! To bring justice to these scum of earth! To show that chance can mean something to anyone! \n\nI could be the next _Domino_! Actually... my breasts maybe big but I have a dick... Maybe I'll be the male Domino... I know! _Domino Man!_ \n\nNow, its time to serve justice filled luck to these scum! \n\n\"How dare you attack me scum! Face my awesome luck for I am Domi- Urgh!\"\n\n_My chest, it feels like... its burning..._.\n\n\"Aw man. I told you not to stab him in the chest! I told you on the stomach!\"\n\n\"Doesn't matter. Grab his _purse_ and lets get away from this fat fuck!\" \n\n_Its... getting dark..._ \n\n__Critical Failure__. ", "I stand with my back pressed against a cold brick wall, my fists clenched at my sides, with my left arm firmly pressing my purse against my hip. I'm trying my best to conceal it, but the two muggers that stand in front of me with sheepish, shit-eating grins on their faces have probably already seen it.\n\n\nWhy else would I be here?\n\n\n\"Alright, missy,\" the tallest one says as he flips open a pocket knife. The metal gleams in the moonlight. \"Purse,\" he says and gestures with with blade toward my hip.\n\n\nInstinctively, I grasp at it. My fingers fumble clumsily over the front pocket and a die falls out. Click, clack, clack as it hits the pavement and rolls over to the edge of my boot. I glance at it briefly- 20. And then back up to the two men awaiting their payday. Desperate for comfort, I grasp my purse's front pocket and find solace in the hard corners of the dice therein.\n\n\nAt the table, behind the face of my drow, I was a different person. Confident. Powerful.\n\n\nHere, now, I was timid and weak. Like a mouse. Everything I knew about defending myself was forgotten, like a foggy breath in the wind.\n\n\nThe second mugger, getting impatient, reveals his own switchblade. \"C'mon, doll,\" he hisses.\n\n\nStop calling me that.\n\n\n\"Hand it over,\" he continues and steps forward.\n\n\nTry as I might, I can't back up any further into the wall. And I've nowhere to run to. I'm trapped in a dead-end, surrounded by brick. The only way out is past the two criminals in front of me. If I just hand it over, maybe they'll let me go. ...Maybe not. I don't want to be like this anymore. Why am I cowering? They have weapons. What do I have? \"N-no,\" I stutter. I have no idea why I said it.\n\n\n\"What was that, little girl?\"\n\n\n\"Don't call me that!\" I retort sternly. Sparks of electricity bounce from the cool skin of my fists to the ground, where they sizzle like bacon. --What?\n\n\nThe muggers step back. \"What is that, a taser?\" the taller one asks.\n\n\n\"If it is, it's got to be tiny,\" the second replies.\n\n\n\"...But I ain't ever seen one do that-\"\n\n\n\"Shut up.\" Confidence rises within me, like a hungry, raging river. I'm not sure where it's coming from. I'm not sure I can stop it. Power surges through my veins, and every atom in my body explodes with energy. I glance up at the sky, and through the thick veil of clouds I see every star. Every milky nebula. Clear as day. It's as though a well of knowledge has opened up within me, and every secret in the universe, every key to every mystery, is just at my fingertips.\n\n\nI raise my sparking fists and uncurl my fingers. As electric bolts arch through the air around me, the muggers stand in stunned silence. Silent words in an unknown language slip through my lips, smooth like silk, but cut like daggers toward the foes before me. They cover their ears, squeezing their eyes shut tight as they begin to shriek in with the unholy echo of unseen horrors. A moment later, they collapse onto the ground. Warm, crimson liquid spills from the corners of their mouths to pool beneath their heads.\n\n\nThe crackles of electricity dissipate. I stand for a moment, relaxed, and watch their motionless bodies on the ground, then pluck the d20 from its rest against my boot. I rub my fingertips over its surface, rolling it against my skin as I step over the two men and leave the alley.\n\n\nThings would be different now.", "Ouch. The pavement of the alley burned and I could hear the footsteps of the muggers as they came closer and closer. The alley was dark, except for a sign illuminated by a blacklight that said \"Quicker Liquor.\" No one was around to help. I stood up, ready to hand over my wallet and wristwatch, which was a family heirloom. Things could not possibly get worse.\n\nThen I look down, and see two white numbers reflected brightly atop a red translucent die.\n\nTwenty.\n\nWhelp. Shit. As a \"natural one\" type of guy, I thought \"if only this were D&D.\"\n\nThe oddest things cross your mind, when you're possibly about to die. If this were D&D, what would I have just rolled for? Attack? I never really worked out or exercised much, so I knew I was not set to be strength build. Stealth? That would be nice, except I thought I was sooo cool by trying to bring back the light up tennis shoes trend. Cringe.\n\nAs I stood frozen, the two muggers arrived, and the one on the right delivered a punch directly across my cheek. \n\nI knelt down and raised my hands in defense. Just as the mugger on the right hit me again, so did the answer to my dice question.\n\n\"You again!!!\" I yelled at the mugger on the left, just as the mugger on the right had his armed was raised to strike again.\n\nBoth muggers paused, bewildered. \n\n\"Not again! You just took everything from me three hours ago!\"\n\nThe right mugger looked at the left mugger, and back at me again. His hand was still raised, ready to punch again.\n\nI mustered up some tears, to really sell the act. It wasn't hard to do, on account of my stinging face. \"Don't tell me you don't remember! You stole over a thousand dollars, and now I'm back at square one!\"\n\nThe mugger on the right looked at him and said, \"hey, fucker. What? You working solo now?\"\n\nThe mugger on the left shot back \"He's full of shit!\" And then turned to me. \"I don't know who the hell you are, but you best give us whatever you got!\"\n\nThe left mugger raised his fist, and in the glow of the blacklight sign, I saw a familiar glowing stamp on his arm. It was the \"C2H5OH\" stamp you receive for special events at the Lucky Roll Nightclub, part of the Lucky Roll Casino.\n\nI thought to myself, \"I rolled a twenty, didn't I? Might as well go for it.\"\n\n\"You jumped me right outside Lucky Roll! The first damn time I finally hit it big, and this guy takes it all!\"\n\nThe left mugger hit me a second time.\n\nAt that exact same moment, the right mugger delivers a much worse hit directly on the left mugger's nose.\n\n\"WHAT THE FUCK MAN? You broke my nose!\" the left mugger screamed.\n\n\"Critical hit!\" I thought. Then I cringed and wondered why stupid shit creeps into my head randomly.\n\nAt this point, the left mugger was on the ground in a heap, pleading while the right mugger kicked him. \"How the fuck did he know you were at Lucky Roll? Why the fuck you holding out on me?!\"\n\nI used this opportunity to grab my D20 and slip away, light up sneaks and all.\n\nCharisma/Intelligence build, motherfuckers.\n" ]	3
	[WP] Communists have invaded the North Pole and elves have taken up arms to defend their homeland.	[ "Alabaster Snowball had just received a critical snowball from Pepper Minstix. Pepper's snowball was terse and to the point, The North Koreans are coming for Santa's Magic Toy Making Machine, with force. Alabaster stood back for a second, time was short. He took a deep breath, composed himself, then scrambled up a step ladder and onto the naughty or nice list. His hands danced across the naughty or nice list as he rearranged thousands of people into the naughty category. Alabaster then sat back in his whicker chair and waited, he knew he had duties to attend to in order to secure the border of the North Pole. Still, Alabaster waited, for he knew another snowball would arrive, a snowball from the old man himself, inquiring about such a mass migration on the naughty or nice list. \n\nMr. Clause's snowball came moments later, but it came like no ordinary Clause snowball. It did not grace through the window and arc delicately across your living room to then fall into the palm of your hand. It did not contain a neat tiny scroll and a tasty chocolate. The front door shattered as a snowball crashed through like a freight train and collided into the fireplace with a furious thump. Alabaster jumped into the air, startled. Two scrolls were contained in the snowball, one directed to the Korean Leaders and the other with instructions for Alabaster to deliver the scroll to the leaders. Alabaster read through the short letter to Kim Jong Un. Leave my land or I will feast on the screams of your nations leaders. \n\nAlabaster took a deep breath, straightened himself, and dashed out of the house, scrolls in hand. He showed surprising lightness for an elf of so many winters. He opened the door to his little elf house, hopped on his emergency reindeer, Blitzen, and took off for Pyongyang.\n\nAs Alabaster flew over the North Pole, he found the world to be a zoo of preparations, all lead by Pepper Minstix, Santa's Head Elf of Security. \n\nPepper Minstix had a custom Minstix bubble gum firing pistol on each of his hips and was adorned in full elven armor. Dutch oven helmets, sledding vests, Christmas stockings under shoe for extra padding. Pepper chirped command after command, overseeing the fortification of the North Pole. Candy Cane spike pits were erected, bubble gum machine guns were handed out, Christmas tree pine cone launchers set up, militant gingerbread men were being baked, and the narwhal's were being sent to search for submarines. Alabaster urged Blitzen onward towards Pyongyang.\n\nAlabaster, sighed, fearing for the battle to come as he sped through a small neighborhood and onto the rooftop of a elegantly adorned Government house, north of the Kim Jong-un's Palace. Blitzen flew down atop the roof and burrowed deep into the snow. Alabaster looked to his right and was curious to see a pair of antlers sticking out from the thick snow. Antlers that belonged to a young and speedy reindeer named Dasher.\n\nAlabaster tucked the scrolls into his pocket, hopped over the side of the house onto the window ledge and began to ease the window open. Alabaster looked through the window to see eight men seated at an ornate table. The men wore serious looking faces and were discussing matters of the Soviet Nation. A loud thump startled Alabaster, almost causing him to fall from the ledge. Sparks flew from the fireplace as two pairs of massive black boots stood atop a now doused roaring fire. The heads of the eight military leaders snapped around towards the fire place\n\nAlabaster watched in fear as a burly tall old man stepped out of the fireplace. Feet as big as mailboxes and hands the size of lunchboxes. He wore white-cuffed red trousers, tucked into black boots, secured to a generous waist by a great black belt. He wore no shirt, but most of his chest was obscured by a great bushy white beard, sweeping down towards his waist. His head was topped by a fluffy white balled red knit cap. Santa had entered the room and cheery he was not.\n\nThe eight generals were frozen still. Tough burley men, frozen in fear of the lumbering demi-god that towered before them. Santa walked up to the table and stood in between two of the generals. Santa placed one of his bear-sized hands atop one of the head of the general who sat to his right. The generals neck, waned under the weight of the hand. Eyes regarded Santa in terror. A great and dormant storm had arrived.\n\n A small dripping noise began to fall to the rug as one of the generals relieved his bladder. Santa took his other hand and plucked the thick cigar from the second generals mouth and placed it to his lips. He took a deep pull on the cigar, and the butt of the cigar illuminated dark red eyes. \n\n\"Ho……………..Ho………….Ho…….\" muttered Mr. Clause ", "\"Those sons of bitches don't know what\nThey're in for \" sparkly said, loading the 50 cal\n Sparkly never smoked but today the menthols were flowing easy. The silence in the room was heartbreaking . Rudolph flew for over 100 miles before collapsing out front the factory. They had skinned most of him and his light nose had been bashed in . His last words: flee while you can ...\n\nSanta walked in wearing a full body suit. \n\"Listen here my friends . We face a threat which has never before been encountered. I sent some of the other reindeer on a scouting mission and we have a better understanding of the threat. They have 6 multi terrain tanks and a few jets. I'll need those trenches dug on the double . \" \n\n\nHaha that's all I got sorry for the lame story ! ", "Wind came through the broken glass of the workshop chilling the elves as they cuddled their weapons on the cold floor amidst shattered toys and broken dreams. The cries of the wounded came from the rear of Santa's Workshop barely audible over the voice calling at the elves from outside. It had continued for the three days the siege had held.\n\n\"Comrades! You have been brainwashed by the capitalists! You slave away for their gluttony while they deny your very existence! They don't care about you! Rise up with us and claim your place in the workers revolution!\"\n\nThe elves shuddered as a random bullet whizzed through the opening and struck the wall behind them. The sharp crack of the rifle echoed in the silent halls.\n\n\"Maybe he is right.\" The tiny voice spoke from behind a rifle larger than the body that carried it; his eyes were dulled in the darkness. \"We get nothing from Christmas, but another's years work. And they always ask for more!\"\n\n\"Do you want to die. The big man will kill you if you talk like that!\" An elf whispered from his position.\n\nThe elves quivered at the mention of Santa. The fear in their bodies was draining, and their frail frames were ready to break from days of toil in the soot racked factory. \n\n\"We owe him nothing. He is not Christmas! We are Christmas! We the workers who make the toys while our brothers collapse at the toy table, and our women and children starve at home.\" The young elf's eyes had regained passion as he spoke to his comrades. \"We will die if we fight them, and we will die for a system we didn't choose. Or we can die fighting for freedom and equality!\"\n\nThe elves around him nodded in agreement. Their nervous, frightened faces tense as they stared at their new champion. \n\nSuddenly a pistol cracked behind them. The young elf screamed out in pain as the bullet flung him across the room.\n\n\"Ho, Ho, Ho. There will be no revolution. You remember your places! I have given you everything you have! You will be thankful for your place at my table!\"\n\nThe big man's red face shook as he bellowed with rage at the small figures before him. The old revolver in his outstretched arm shook as he aimed it at the elves. Slowly, each elf stood and turned to face their red cloaked benefactor. \n\n\"You dare to stand against me!\" His white beard shook and his mustache quivered. He fired into an elf, and turned the gun to another. Rifle shots echoed loud in the confines of the shop and the big man sank to his knees with new redness sprouting from his chest.\n\n\"Merry Christmas, you traitors.\"\n\nHe put the revolver to his chin and fired." ]	3
	[WP] You're on a mountain expedition team, being the first ones to reach the summit of a particular mountain. As you pin the flag down, you all hear air escaping as the mountain suddenly begins to deflate and collapse beneath your feet.	[ "As the mountain deflates I slowly descend back towards the ground. I am utterly terrified, scrambling to keep my ballance. So confused all I can do is look around me desperately looking for some clue as to what's happening. I look around but I can't find any of the team.\n\nI reach ground level and the panic subsides but the confusion becomes overwhelming. Other than the collapsed mountain at my feet I also notice that things are far too quiet. I do the only thing I can and try to ignore what's happening until I can find someone to verify that I'm not gone insane. I start walking back towards the place where I parked my car. On the way there I notice that there is no wind, which is odd because there was quite a strong wind on the way up.\n\nThe car is gone, so are the other 2 cars that were parked there when I arrived. It's very warm, far warmer than I thought, sure miss that breeze now. I walked toward the road to hopefully thumb a lift to the nearest town but the road is empty. Not only am I scared and confused but I'm becoming frustrated at the situation so I pick up a rock near my feet to throw, it crumbles to black dust in my hand.\n\nNow the absolute silence, abnormal lack of wind and ever increasing heat are making me disorientated.\nI've been walking the road for over an hour and haven't seen a sign of life. I'm too thirsty to think so I sit down at the side of the road and decide to give up and die right here.\n\nFading in and out of consciousness I know my time is up so I close my eyes to sleep. Suddenly I'm startled by something landing on my chest, I peel open my eyes to see what it is. How strange it's a pile of dust not too different to the black dust that the rock turned into when I picked it up. At this stage it doesn't really matter so I don't give it a second thought and close my eyes again. Then another thump on my chest, another on the floor next to my head and more around and on me. I look up and see the sky falling in chunks and bursting into black dust on impact.\n\nI stand up weak wondering if this is all some kind of hallucination. I notice that everything around me is crumbling and I can see a red glow emanating from the holes and cracks in the sky. Then there is no blue sky left now it is entirely red. In fact everything around me is red and the heat is unbearable. It looks as though I'm standing in a volcano.\n\nI feel a strange feeling in my stomach, maybe regret or worry. I start to feel more familiar these surroundings. I hear faded screaming and smell rotted flesh. Then memories start pouring into my mind, vivid images that seem like a dream but somehow I know they are memories. It's me standing over a dead man, his face purple and my hands sore. I know I killed him. I grab all the money from his till. I now know I killed him and robbed him. Next memory I have is me sticking a heroine needle in my arm, then a doctor saying \"it's too late for him\". \n\nI know what's going on now, I know where I am. I'm in hell where I belong. The black dust rises back up from the ground and starts reforming the blue sky. I can feel my situational awareness slipping from me and the memories vanishing from my mind. Where am I? What's going on? \n\nIt's a nice day I think I'll go mountain climbing today. I pack my stuff and hop into the car...", "He looked down the mountain into the vertigo of the white void. His team was scattered down the mountain beneath him; their movements were imperceptible in the distance. If they moved at all. The storm had quickened its pace and the cold paired with the lack of oxygen to drain their muscles and bodies of life.\n\nHe had pushed. He had pushed forward with all of his might and with the determination of a crazed man. The spikes of his boots crunched the ice beneath him as his axe clawed at the frozen surface for purchase. Blood surged in his veins and he felt every beat of the heart in the splitting headache of the altitude sickness. His breath was ragged and each breath was deep with little air.\n\nHere he stood. At the peak of the range. No, the peak was beneath him. He was the peak. His mind numbed as his frozen limbs refused to work. With all his effort he withdrew the aluminum pole from his pack. The flag unfurled in the wind and flapped with madness. He fell to his knees as he jammed the point into the peak.\n\nThe world began to shrink around him. The sound of escaping air yelled in his ears. The mountain fell without a rumble of falling rock but with the whoosh of pressured air. His body rushed to the earth and his face fell numb upon the cold snow as the peak fell. His lungs collapsed with the escape of air. The peak was no more. He was the peak." ]	2
	[WP] In a world full of magic, dragons, and vast empires, you have the power that can take the whole of mankind to its knees. Literally. You can only make people kneel.	[ "\"KNEEL, my subjects, KNEEL!\" My voice boomed across the great hall, echoing off of the marble walls and bouncing along the stone floor. Basically, it was a really loud echo.\n\nThe only other occupant of the room, my adventuring partner Janna, was forced down onto her knees. She looked at me from across the hall with eyes that gave off a slight hint of anger. \"Sorry,\" I called out.\n\nAfter the ten second kneeling period had ended, Janna rose to her feet. Her longsword made a loud scraping against the stone floor noise as she stood up, the chinks in her armour clanking together. She stared at me with those slightly angry eyes, and then turned around to continue searching the castle. \"Hey, wait up!\" I chased after her as she exited the hall.\n\nWhen I caught up with her, she had managed to find her way into the castle's kitchen. Of course there wouldn't be anything inside of it, because the castle had been ransacked by a gang of marauding goblins two years ago. It was always worth checking though, because many squatters usually made their homes inside of these giant castles.\n\n\"Find anything?\" I asked. Janna shook her head in silence. Everything Janna did was in silence because her tongue had been ripped out of her mouth by the same marauding gang of goblins I mentioned earlier. \n\nThey called themselves the \"Goblin Liberators,\" a gang established for the purpose of ending goblin bias and prejudice worldwide. They weren't very effective at that though, because their method of spreading their message involved killing, stealing and destruction. To me, they were just another gang of upjumped goons looking to make some easy gold. \n\nJanna threw down the bag slung on her shoulders and began pulling out sleeping supplies. \"I take it that the search is over?\" I asked. Janned nodded in confirmation.\n\nOur quest began two years ago when a tavern wench told us that the Goblin Liberators had made their nest within the county. Reports sprung up all over the county of goblin sightings, and soon enough they began their trail of destruction as they took over towns and set fire to castles within the region. As of only two weeks ago, we had managed to get a whiff of their trail and have been tailing them ever since.\n\nThe next morning we awoke to thunder and the sound of rain crashing down upon the castle's exterior. Knowing Janna though, this wouldn't be an excuse for us to take a break during our search. \"Well, where are we off to today?\" \n\nJanna pointed. It didn't really tell me much, but I should've expected it. Giving a detailed description of our path would've been hard without a tongue. After eating our rations we began trudging through the mud road to our destination. We continued down the path until we came across a thick growth of trees that obscured our sight greatly. All of a sudden, Janna paused.\n\n\"What?\" I asked. Janna put her fingers to my lips, indicating that I needed to shut up. She gestured at my ear, telling me to listen to our surroundings. After a moment of silence, I heard it.\n\nSNAP \n\nSomething in the forest cracked. It could've been a twig, or a branch, or whatever. It didn't matter because it would've all meant the same - that we weren't alone in the forest.\n\nAnother cracking sound was made, and this time it was closer. Another crack, and then another, and suddenly there was the thunderous sound of feet slamming down into the Earth. A stampede?\n\n\"AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!\" A wail erupted from the trees. It was the cry of a Goblin Warlord, which meant that this was an ambush.\n\nLeaves rustled as goblins emerged from the trees that hid them. More goblins appeared from the ground having been concealed by the lumpy mud. Janna and I went back to back and turned in a circle, revealing to us that we had been completely surrounded.\n\nThe goblins themselves were well-equipped. They had straight swords and scimitars, bronze armour and plate armour as well as round shields and kite shields that were all in perfect condition. The only blemish on them was the crimson red stains of blood.\n\n\"Now now travellers,\" called out a shrill voice, \"we only want your gold!\"\n\n\"And your weapons,\" yelled another.\n\n\"The amour that the lass is in looks like it's worth a fair amount, let's get that too!\"\n\n\"While not just take the entire girl?\" Laughter erupted from all the goblins. It was a horrible sound, like two scraps of rusty armour being rubbed together. Personally I've never heard that before, but I assume it doesn't sound very good.\n\nJanna slowly placed her hands on the hilt of her sword. I took that as a signal for her being ready.\n\n\"Alright you thieves! Take my gold! Take all of it!\" I cried out. The goblins laughed again. \"I just have to KNEEL down and get it...\"\n\nSuddenly, a mass of goblins fell out of the trees and landed with a heavy THUD sound on the ground. The goblins on the ground were forced to kneel, rendering them an easier target for Janna. She unsheathed her sword and began cutting at goblins, mowing through their numbers as they knelt in confusion. Some of them put up a fight, but Janna had the advantage and broke through their attacks with ease. She was a blur as she moved from target to target, unleashing a flurry of strikes upon the unsuspecting goblins.\n\nSome of them began to rise, so I screamed out \"kneel\" again. Soon enough, the goblins had all been slaughtered. Janna walked back to me, drenched in goblin blood and breathing heavily from exhaustion. She extended her arm and opened up her palm, which I took for her wanting a hi-five. I twisted my body, slung back my arm and thrust it forwards, eager to answer her request for a hi-five when suddenly a loud THRUM vibrated throughout the forest. I could hear the air whistling when suddenly an intense pain shot throughout my body.\n\nI fell to one knee and looked down, only to see an iron arrow protruding from my left knee. I cried out in pain and heard the sound of a string being pulled back. As another THRUM sound pierced my ears, I realised that my assailant had fired another arrow at me. I heard the whistling sound grow closer and closer. I closed my eyes and braced for either more pain, or death. However just as it sounded like the arrow had reached my head, I heard a loud CLANG sound. \n\nI looked up and saw Janna standing beside me, her sword at the ready. Suddenly another arrow was flying through the air but she managed to deflect it with another swing of her sword. With each arrow that was loosed Janna advanced closer towards the archer. Suddenly I heard a kind of wet, slushy sound. It took me a few moments of silence to realise that Janna had disposed of the archer.\n\nWithout the distraction of arrows flying at my head, a sudden wave of pain washed over be again. I slammed my fist into the ground and bit into my tongue so hard I could feel blood. Janna, upon seeing my condition, was in a panic. Her chest rose and fell rapidly and I could hear a strange clacking sound coming from her, as if...\n\nShe was laughing at me. I looked up to her with anger, and mustering up all the strength I had left I yelled out \"why are you laughing?\"\n\nShe just pointed at me, then started making that strange clacking sound again. I looked at myself and realised I was kneeling. Irony's a bitch, they say.\n" ]	1
	[WP] You and your best friend wake up one morning to find out that you guys are immortal, explain your fist day as immortals	[ "We found out when he fell, time slowed down as i saw my childhood friend drop to the floor, knife heading straight for his eye. As he hit the floor i did the same, shaking him and crying hysterically. Until somehow.... he got up. Pushed him self up and together we stared in disbelief at a bent knife. His skin had become unbreakable. I couldn't help but giggle, \"what are you? fucking Luke Cage?\" soon after we started trying again, we attempted to slice the skin of his arm with a knife, yet no success. \n\nWe're young, we're roommates, we're nerdy and so we never thought twice about it. I sliced my skin, knowing for sure blood would spurt out, but it never did. The next few minutes went fast as light.\n\n\n\nWe discussed what to do, where to go, how to do it, until we came up with a plan. We lived in a world without superheroes, such things never existed to us... So.. why not us? We'd have to learn how to fight, sure, but if we couldn't be hurt, why would we just sit by?\n\n\n\n\nBut first things first, it was time to have some fun. We climbed to the top of our apartment building, and as we stood up on that ledge there was only a second of doubt before we hit the air, and then hit the ground. There was nothing but debris, laughs and a stunned crowd.\n\nThis day was going to rock." ]	1
DEUS VULT!	[WP] You have a vision of God telling you it's time to restore the Empire and to conquer the Holy Land of Jerusalem. You discover like minded people who call themselves the New Crusaders.	[ "\"You thought I said what?\" God asked.\n\n\"Restore the empire,\" the Ultrapope answered, \"conquer the Holy Land of Jerusalem, bring together the New Crusaders.\"\n\nGod facepalmed. \"Why on earth would I tell you that? If I wanted the Holy Land conquered, I'd just have conquered it, wouldn't I? You've got schizophrenia, kid. Go get help.\"\n\n\"But... you gave me the schizophrenia, right? I mean, you at least ensured I'd have it,\" the Ultrapope said, \"So really this is your fault.\"\n\n\"Ugh, fine,\" God said, \"whatever. Listen, I've got a [bunch of other writing prompts](http://i.imgur.com/qvZR5f8.png) I got called into today - on my freaking day off, I might add - so I'm not going to stick around here for long. Just get help, okay?\"\n\nAnd with that, the vision ended. Ultrapope, sitting on his high throne, turned to the Ultrabishop at his right side. \"Ultrabishop,\" he said, \"I think I may need to see a doctor.\"\n\nHe may or may not have been crazy before, he thought to himself, but after what he'd heard now he definitely needed a checkup." ]	1
	[WP] On a whim, and despite your skepticism, you go to get your fortune read. During the reading, the psychic politely pauses to commit suicide.	[ "My friends told me Gypsy Gina, a particularly interesting title for someone operating in the Mid-West of the United States, despite her eccentricities, was the real deal. I rode past her building every day to and from work, and after a particularly boring work day, I decided to let her read my fortune. Entering her psychic shop was exactly as I imagined: incense smoke filled a large room like a fog on a moonlit harbor, dim lighting obscured all the odds and ends on sale, including tarot cards, healing crystals, and even more incense, and of course, Gina herself sitting behind the counter. I paid for my fortune and she happily obliged to bring me into a backroom. \\\n\nBlack satin lined the walls of the room creating a dark atmosphere as a table with a fortune teller’s ball sat in the middle. Only a handful of candles on shelves dared to shine light on the proceedings. She cast her gaze into the crystal ball which lit up with a deep blue before transitioning to a forest green. Her eyes, heavily caked in makeup, spoke volumes of pain and agony, disgust and revile. She looked at me the same way an abuse dog looks at his master. \n\n“I’m sorry,” she spoke. She reached under the table and brandished a gun. I yelped and told her to stay calm. I would happily pay her any sum for my life, but when she placed the barrel of the gun in her mouth, I changed my tune to a broken song for optimism. \n\n“No,” she replied, taking the gun from her mouth. “There is no optimism in your future. I’m sorry. You should leave now.”\n\nI begged her to explain, but she threw a handful of crisp dollar bills meant to function as a refund and told me to leave the shop, never to return to bring back my misfortune and miseries. I left, completely dumbfounded and utterly terrified of my own future. ", "My clothes were ruined. Not that it mattered. The police took those as evidence anyways. They gave me a blanket to stay warm, but the rough wool was making me itch everywhere it touched. They had me in an interrogation room, \"to ask a few questions\" they said. That was four hours ago. Back when I thought I knew how the world worked.\n\nTwo hours after being put into the room, a man opened the door. What I first noticed was his size. He had to bend over to fit inside the seven foot door frame. He was wearing a tux, a little ragged around the edges, frayed with time and use. As he straightened out, I started noticing more disturbing details. His arms and legs seemed twice as long as they should be, fingers like dried twigs, skin almost transluscent, eyes as dark as night. And a air about him that felt... cold.\n\n\"Good evening. Though from what I understand, that sentiment does not apply to you, does it?\" the stranger said, in a voice as old as dust, and a chuckle that sounded like a tomb. \n\n\"No, no it does not. Who are...\"\n\n\"My name matters little, Gerald. And worry not, our conversation will remain confidential. I imagine that the authorities will be experiencing... technical difficulties.\"\n\n\"What? How is that even... How did you...\"\n\n\"Enter this room unopposed? People have a tendency to, ignore what they do not understand.\" Another chuckle, the wrinkles on his face seemed to stretch too far.\n\n\"Nevertheless, I have a message from a colleague of mine that I am to deliver to you. Do you accept it, will you? He went through a great deal of trouble to send it.\"\n\nHalf dumbfounded, half terrified, but mostly curious, I quietly said, \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Very well.\" the man's eyes rolled back into his head, and those black eyes returned a deep blue-green. The same color as the fortune teller's.\n\n\"Hey! Gerald, short time no see! Sorry about the whole kill myself thing. I had business elsewhere, and having a body can be an issue sometimes. Anyways, I don't have much time, but you paid for a fortune telling, so you're getting one.\"\n\nAs I slowly debated over whether this was a dream or insanity, the creature in front of me continued.\n\n\"Let's see... Gerald Warchester, born on April 6th. An aries. As I'm sure you've noticed, you will come across new revelations that will cause you to question your place in life. Your choices concerning this new info will determine the path of your life. You will be thrown into a position that you feel you are incapable of filling. BUT, give it some time, and some effort, and you may find that it is what you have been missing in your life. Alright, that's it, Ill see ya around kid. Oh, and congrats on the new job!\"\n\nI started to stammer out a response, but by then the creature's eyes had turned back to their former darkness.\n\n\"But.... What new job?!?\"\n\nThe thing in front of me let out a laugh not unlike the falling of leaves, as he leaned forward into a bow. \"Shall I show you, Master?\"\n\n\n\n", "\"I can't believe you're making me do this Jenna... You're a real prick you know that?\" In a sarcastic joking way. But Paul loved being taken on all these adventures with his girlfriend, he didn't get out much and has really been enjoying the past 3 months since they started dating. \n\n\"Shut up! Don't be such a baby-besides a deal's a deal.\"\n\nIt was a Sunday and earlier in the day Jenna came over to watch football at Paul's. It was another wonderful day, they watched the game together; though their team lost, after the third quarter they began to make love on the couch, a win in Pauls eyes any day. \n\nJenna really complimented Paul's apprehensive personality. She was wild, lived in the moment, adventurous, and never worried about a thing. Everything he was not.\n\nShe wanted to get Thai food, but they settled on Pauls choice if he promised to finally go to the Psychic and get his palms read. \n\n\"Let's just do it after we eat? I'm starving,\" laughed Paul.\n\n\"Oh no, you're doing this now. It won't take long I promise. I need to pick up just a couple paint brushes from the art store and it's closing soon so it gives me time.\"\n\nButterflies filled Pauls stomach, he didn't know she wasn't going with him. That made him feel uneasy. \n\n\"You're not coming with? It'll be fun if we both do it,\" he pleaded. \n\nJenna smiled. She knew when he was nervous and thought it was so cute. \n\n\"I can't, it's like a birthday wish. If I'm there it won't be a true reading. Tell me about it at dinner, I'll meet you over here when you're done.\" As Jenna turned towards the art supply store. \n\nBefore Paul could think of something else to say, he said okay as she walked away. \n\nHis hands started getting sweaty. Jenna would always make him do these things that he was uncomfortable with. she doesn't control me, I don't have to do this if I don't want to. \n\nPSYCHIC. That's all the sign said. real authentic... But as the wind crossed his face, he knew he has yet to once regret any of the things Jenna has made him do so far. So he pulled up his jeans and walked up to the house. \n\nUpon entering it was dark besides for a light opening a little bit ahead. Paul walked towards it and through the dangling beads hanging. He could hardly see. Maybe they were closed and he could turn around. \n\nBang! Pauls foot walked into something hard as he tried to turn around. Before he could register the pain, the room lit up by candles instantly. From him was a table with a lady sitting across from it. \n\n\"Take a seat Paul.\"\n\nHer voice. It was deep. Deeper than deep, it had to be an effect-wait how did she know my name? This sent the butterflies to his stomach. \n\n\"Wait, how did you know my name?\" Paul tried to stand up as straight as possible.\n\n\"Your jacket has Paul Stear written on your right arm.\" The lady smiled, she didn't have the deep voice anymore, it was comforting. Must have been an effect. \n\nShe was right.\n\n\"You're right.\" He continued to stand there.\n\n\"Relax Paul, take a seat. I'm Madam Profound.\"\n\ndid she come up with that by herself? Paul pulled the other chair out and sat down across from her. Now he can really see what she looks like. \n\nIn a black shirt was a Hispanic woman, maybe in her 40's. Did not look like any of the stereotypical gypsies Paul had in mind. She was just a regular lady, she could've worked at the grocery store for all he knew. \n\n\"What brings you here?\" As she looked down and moved two of the three cards sitting face down on the table.\n\n\"a'hem well I'm here with my girlfriend getting dinner and I had a few minutes while she ran an errand so I thought I'd like to get my palm read real quick if that's okay.\"\n\nPaul was feeling at ease, this lady was no psychic, the decor is so tacky. It's just a gimmick. Oh well, a deal was a deal, those wings were going to be nice. \n\n\"Hmm... I sense your urgency and that will be no problem. That'll be $25.\"\n\nShit. $25 for a palm reading? That's crazy, no wonder she's still in business. Greedy bag. Reluctantly he handed her the money.\n\nThe lights dimmed down, you could barely see across the tiny room. \"Jenna will be glad you're doing this-\"\n\n\"Wait how did you-\" Paul interrupted. \n\n\"Shhh! And yes I came up with the name Madam Profound, it's catchy right? Don't be nervous Paul. Your 25 dollars will change your life forever.\"\n\nPaul was confused, not scared. How did she know what I was thinking, did I mention Jenna's name? I know I said girlfriend, I must've said her name right?\n\n\"Hold out your hand Paul.\"\n\nShe ran her fingers across the top of his hand. Grasped his hand with both of hers. Spun his over and then set her thumbs on his palm. As she did that he felt a cold shiver run up his arm. Made him jump a little. \n\n\"That's normal, you're alright.\" Reassured the Madam. \n\nAs she moved her thumbs over his palm, in such slow precise movements. More shivers ran up his arm. This is too surreal? It's actually kind of exciting.\n\nPaul knew it was all a sham, but he was for the first time enjoying this experience so far. He knew he could trust in Jenna.\n\nMadam Profound scrunched up her face as she moved all across his palm. It was quite a show. Then the lights darkened and went back up to dim. Almost made Paul jump but he caught himself and reminded himself it's just a show. Relax, this is neat. \n\nShe then released herself from his hands. It was like she yanked a power cord out of the wall, her thumbs were like stuck to his palms almost. He had no idea how she did this.\n\n\"Have you ever seen a psychic before?\" Madam Profound asked. But this time her voice was different again, her voice echoed almost. As if two people were talking at the same time. And she didn't look as calm. She looked distraught, pale, and her eyes seemed to change colors? From brown eyes, the color turned grey, even her pupils had a washed color to them. \n\nWeary now, Paul responded with \"No, so what did you see?\"\n\n\"No time Paul, this was not normal. You have the eye, and I'm going to give you the gift. I can't explain any more, it will all make sense one day.\"\n\n\"What the fu-\" Paul couldn't even finish his sentence. The room darkened and he felt a chest pain like none other. He never had a heart attack but it a chest pain like none other. Paul was going to die. But before that could happened the room lit up again.\n\nMadam Profound sat there shaking. She was even more pale. And skinny. In fact scrawny, she was nothing but bones basically. \n\nBut Paul felt okay. He wasn't scared, worried, what one might normally feel after seeing and feeling such an event. He didn't know how or why but it all made sense. \n\n\"Pa..Paul... Run.\" Croaked the brittle lady. \n\nThen what happened in seconds felt like it lasted hours. Madam Profound drew up a large .357 Magnum. \n\nPaul's eyes widened like never before. \"No!\" He yelled as he stood up out of the chair reaching for the gun. \"Wait-\"\n\nBang!\n\nThe lady fired right at her face. Instantly her face snapped back, well what was left. She was so fragile it was like her head exploded. Her hands launched forward from the recoil sending the gun up in the air. Blood splattered back into the dim room, it had to have a been a mess if you could see anything beyond the table of the room. \n\nPaul clenched his ears. The room was smokey and his ears were ringing. He looked up and caught a glimpse of the body and reflexively turned away. He walked towards the beads and right out the door. \n\nHe was winded, he couldn't believe what he saw. What did he see? He couldn't believe that that happened. Feelings of nausea ran through, for a second he was going to hurl in the street. But he looked up and saw Jenna walking out the store. \n\nPaul stood up and turned towards PSYCHIC, put his hands on his head. Shook up beyond anything that has happened in his life.\n\nThat's it. That's when it all changed. Pauls eye were closed as he took this deep breath. Everything seemed to stop, he heard what sounded like millions of voices go through his head. His body felt a rush of warmth and calmness. As these voiced filled his head, it slowed down to one. Jenna's. \"Is he okay?\"\n\n\"Yeah I feel good, did you get those brushes?\" He did feel good. A full feeling, he was confident and didn't even worry him about what he just saw. Did that really happen? Like before it just made sense in his head and he was okay with it. \n\nJenna hesitantly replied, \"Yeah... They had a sale... You sure you're okay? You looked sick there.\" As she put her arm around him, her arm jumped off him even quicker. \"-You're scorching! What happened in there?\" \n\nJenna was worried now. She approached the door of the house and tried to open it. But it was locked. \n\n\"Was the place even open?\"\n\nPaul walked over. Put his arm around her, \"Jenna I'm fine.\" Temperature normal normal now. \"Are you okay? Now I'm worried?.\" Diverting her attention away from him. \n\n\"No I'm okay, I just had a bad scare for a second. Maybe I'm hungry.\" She was feeling more assured by now.\n\n\"C'mon, let's go eat.\" As Paul put his arm around his girlfriend. He had a vision come to him, he saw her dying. She was being strangled, the vision was blurry. But she was turning blue and her arms and legs flopped around. Her eyes grew red, when finally it stopped. Her arms and leg rest, head tilted to the side and on her neck were dark purple hand prints. The vision proceeded towards a balcony in what looked like a junky hotel room overlooking the Thailand skyline. He knew what it was because Jenna always wanted to go to Thailand, she even mentioned it on their first date. \n\nThis didn't scare Paul to his surprise. It made sense, he knew it was meant to be. \n\nGo.\n\nPaul and Jenna walked together embracing each other when Paul decided to ask her. \n\n\"Hey I know this is spontaneous for me... But instead of dinner, let's go on a trip.\"\n\nJenna at ease, surrounded by Paul's arms. Her spirit for adventure was always on, she trusts Paul. He makes her feel safe. \"Of course, where are we going to go?\"", "The rain poured down on main street, and I cursed under my breath when I reached for my umbrella. Forgotten in my desk back at the office. \"No point in walking back there now in this mess,\" I think, lighting a cigarette under an awning. \n \nNot even a minute passes by before a bouncer cracks open the door behind where I'm standing. \"This is a no smoking area, so beat it or I'll remove you,\" he says. For a second I want to say something, but I can't find the words. I give an awkward little nod and walk back out into the thunderstorm, my cigarette getting soaked. \n \nIt's another half mile to my car. Corporate thought it would save the business money if their employees found their own parking, but the only spots available were far from the building, in neighborhoods you wouldn't want visit. Lucky for me, no one wants to steal a run down cop car. \n \nAnother awning appears when I turn the corner, and by now I'm soaked to the bone. Green neon flashes behind me, advertising the words, \"Fortune Reading!\" The brick building looks like something out of a dystopian movie, and I would have guessed it was abandoned if it wasn't for the sign. \n \nMy pastor told me never to get my fortune read, because you'd go to hell with your head on backwards if you did. God doesn't want you to know the future, but I never cared to know mine any way. Every day was the same grind, making money to pay off my broken car, or pay my insane rent. \n \nThose fortune tellers are all full of crap. The psychic on TV will tell you your dead grandpa is sorry for missing your birthday, or your cat is chasing mice in heaven. Playing on emotions and telling idiots what they want to hear gets you paid, and I wasn't going to donate to the idiot tax. \n \nThe rain didn't let up though, and if I didn't get inside somewhere soon, I'd have another cold for sure. I turned the brass knob of the fortune teller's store and expected to find an old granny, dressed like a gypsy hovering over a crystal ball. Instead I found a skinny guy with thick glasses typing away at a computer, shocked that someone actually came into his business. \n \n\"Welcome, welcome! Please have a seat right over there and I'll be right with you,\" he says, gathering some paperwork and readjusting his glasses. \"If it's alright with you, I was just stepping out of the rain for a moment.\" \n \n\"I'm afraid everyone has to pay if they want to stay.\" I looked at the prices on the wall and picked out the cheapest option, then sat down on a dusty stool by a card table. \n \n\"Okay lets see here,\" the nerd said, holding up some kind of scanner to my face. \"Looks like you are in great heath!\" Wrong. \"You'll live a long time, and it looks like the people around you are very happy.\" Undoubtedly wrong. \n \nThen his face went pale, and his eyes widened as he looked into the scanner. His breath became short, and he clutched the side of the card table with a death grip. \n \n\"What did you see?\" I asked, trying my best not to roll my eyes. This nerd wasn't going to get a tip for theatrics. \n\n\"Nothing. Um...no reason to panic. Please excuse me,\" he said, shuffling back over to his computer where he pulls out a pistol. \n \n\"Woah, just take the rest of my cash okay?\" I say, and begin pulling out my wallet. I hope he'll be happy with 27$ and a coupon for a fish restaurant. \n \n\"I'm afraid that this is the end. Maybe you'd like to follow me, but there is very little time. You'll have to excuse me,\" and before I could say another word the walls were painted red. " ]	4
	[WP] The vast majority of the human race is wiped out by war, and the only survivors are isolated indigenous tribes. As these societies explore and colonize over time, they discover artifacts of the more advanced civilizations that existed before them.	[ "I looked up in awe as I walked through the once great Elven city of Nai Yark. What majestic creatures they must have been to build castles which reached the clouds. Although the worst of winter had passed, the mornings air still bit at my ears.\n\nIt was not clear how exactly the elves had vanished. Old Nan spoke of fire raining down from the skies, she told us how they had angered the God's with their hubris and were destroyed because of it. It was then, that the Gods created man. She warned us that man needed to learn from the elves fate and be humble, or else we would be destroyed just as they were. \n\n The idea that one could consider themselves equal to a God was foolish to me. However, that changed today. We were sent on an important mission by our chieftain. The Jets tribe of Jersania had waged war against us for decades. Unfortunately, during the beginning of winter. They set fire to our food storage and many of our tribe did not survive to see spring. Against the wishes of many, we set out to the ruins to find the fabled elvish weapons.\n\nGriff never saw it coming. It was while we were scavenging the interior of one of their metal carriages, he found a strange artifact. It was also metal, and about the size of an apple. While trying to open its container, the small rod at the top came out and it began to make a clicking noise. He held it up to his ear, trying to discern the source of the noise. It happened in an instant, a loud popping noise caused my ears to ring. Griff's upper body exploded into pieces and his blood spread in a circle around him. His death was a great loss but it was not in vain. More of the dangerous artifacts lie within the metal carriage. \n\nIt is foolish for a man to consider himself a God. However, to the Jersania Jets, we would be.", "\"There.\" Innayka said, pointing her slender finger out. I leaned my head forward and squinted my eyes. Just in the distance something glittered and sparkled in the sunlight. I shook my head and turned back towards my companion. The shade of the tall trees around us darkened her fair features. My eyes trailed down her heart shaped face, flicking towards her pale blue eyes, down her small nose, and resting upon her cute, tight mouth.\n\n\"There is nothing there,\" I said, resting my spear against my agile body. I placed a hand on my hip and shot Innayka an annoyed look. \"This is stupid and you pay too much heed to the old stories.\"\n\n\"I saw it, Anrodi!\" Innayka stomped her sandaled foot down on the forest floor, cracking twigs and crushing dried leaves. \"The metal men from the First Tribe!\"\n\n\"It's just a story, Innai!\" I spit at her. \"The First Tribe did not have metal men.\" I raised my hands and shook them side to side. \"I'm not getting into this with you again. Akbar created the First Tribe, who in turn made us, before returning to Akbar. A Tribe Hunt and metal men are just stories meant to scare the little ones, Innai.\"\n\n\"The stories are true, Anrodi. I saw it,\" Innayka points to her eyes with two fingers before pointing back across the field at the glittering object. \"I'll show you,\" she said with a huff before she turned and dashed out of the woods, her bow and quiver slapping against her back in time with her feet.\n\nI groaned and tossed my eyes skyward before I turned and followed my Life-mate. Together we ran across the field of tall grass. Small flowers burst through the sea of green adding drops of color, like ripples in a pond. Scattered through the field stood stone pillars of varying size and shape. Some were short and close to the ground, while others were adorned with strange symbols of a Cruck'ix as the medicine men called them.\n\nBut Innayka ran past these things, towards her glittering object. And as I ran nearer, it came into shape. It was in the shape of a tribesman, his back resting against a large stone. It was sitting down almost as if it were gazing out across the sea of green. Panting slightly, Innayka motioned to the sitting shape. \"See?\"\n\nI looked at the shape, getting down on my haunches. Using my spear as support, I leaned forward and inspected the figure before me. Its head was downcast, its chin resting against its chest. I reached a hand forward and wiped the grime and dirt off its body. Its chest was cool to the touch, despite being out in the heat. My fingers brushed against strange symbols carved onto itself.\n\nSuddenly, its head jerked up and I sprang back, startled and half screaming. Innayka jumped at my half screech, unhooking her bow and notching an arrow at the form. I picked up my spear and pushed my Life-mate behind me. I pointed the sharp tip at the metal thing and entered a defensive stance, ready to string forward.\n\nThe thing opened its strange eyes and looked into mine. Its cool grey eyes danced across my tanned face, dropping down to my spear and back up again. Its hand slowly raised out of the grass and opened up, the palm facing us. I deepened my stance, ready to strike. Innayka pulled back more on her string, ready to loose an arrow.\n\nBut before we could strike, the thing opened its mouth and spoke. \"Please, Human, I mean you no harm.\" Its voice was calm and soothing while also being cold and unnatural. \"I am series model X1L9-007 and I am here to assist you.\"", "The movements of the Alexandrites, named after their general Alexander the Great, seized the tribes of Boston and Providence with their famed Hellcat Cavalry and an arsenal of guns and body armor unlike anything the residents of New Haven had ever seen. Sigmund, the first born of the so-called She-Wolf of Connecticut, stood with his troops at the city walls, formed from the debris of ancient buildings and roads. His army lined the entrances of the city, preparing for an attack from all sides as the Alexandrites were known for outflanking their enemy and breaking lines. \n\nA dust cloud erupted in the distance, casting an ominous shadow across the town. In the distance, the sounds of horns blaring and drums beating shook the ground. A few foot soldiers only armed with a twisted scrap metal and the cloth on their backs caught site of the notorious Hellcats, ancient bulldozers attached with barbed wire, piloted by a primary driver and a co-pilot with a gun, a rare and foreign object to the New Haven resident who believed it should only be used behind the front. A half-dozen snipers atop the city walls opened fire with hunting rifles on the oncoming enemy, causing a few foot soldiers to drop. \n\nSargent Amira lit the beacon fire atop the walls, signaling the New Haven army to charge. Scores upon scores of men and women armed primarily with golf clubs and twisted remains of street signs charged in formation, leaving room for their few operating vehicles to follow closely behind. A few New Haven men, clad in old, mismatching sports equipment brandished chainsaws eager to meet the flesh of the Alexandrites. Their enemy in close ranks held up shields created from old street signs with elite units using hard plastic shields which brandished the word SWAT. Wearing all sorts of old police uniforms and bike helmets, the Alexdrandrites carried spears, some made of old javelins, others using old broken hockey or lacrosse sticks with sharpened metal on their tips. \n\nPulling past the enemy lines, a great mechanical beast known as The Hammer, an old semi with an attached trailer, advanced to the New Haven soldiers and abruptly and deftly turned as to create a blockade and cut the New Haven Cavalry, mostly old SUVs and a few Hondas, off from the enemy lines. Before the cavalry could do much, the Hellcats emerged from around the Hammer. Their copilots disembarked, gun in hand, to the vehicles and succeeded in either pulling them from their pilots from the driver’s seat or executing them by shooting them through the front window. With the New Haven Cavalry effectively commandeered, their new pilots drove themselves into the oncoming army with reckless abandon. \n\nAs the army scattered from derelict vehicles, the back of the semi opened, creating an outpour of war dogs, namely German shepherds, Rottweilers, and Dobermans who immediately immersed themselves in the New Haven Troops, hungrily ripping flesh and breaking ranks. Before the main Alexandrite soldiers confronted them, their meager enemy was already scattered and disorganized. A few ran in the distance, but those brave enough to stay found themselves quickly outflanked by Alexandrites who picked off the New Haven troops with spears. When their spears broke or were loss, they brandished their secondary weapon, usually a flaying knife or a machete to flay their enemies in close combat. \n\nWith over half his army fleeing or bleeding, Sigmund desperately signaled a defeat. When he did, his army took flight back into the city. Only Sigmund’s honor guard stood by his side when a black Escalade pulled up to the commander. From the vehicle Alexander himself disembarked. He met Sigmund with a confident gaze and began to negotiate terms of his defeat on the battlefield so that death would remained fixed on his mind. Where his army failed, Sigmund tried to defend the sovereignty of his mother’s land, but Alexander refused anything other than unconditional surrender going so far to kill a member of his honor guard for every counteroffer he made. After forcing a marriage between Sigmund and one of his cousins, Alexander appointed one of his generals as governor of New Haven and yet another city nourished the ever-growing Alexandrite Empire. ", "\"She was 'beautiest',\" Gnawe said. Lasson hated the dialect of the Yellow Tiger. They were a brute, uncivilized clan, and Lasson's mother always made certain to teach her children. In spite of the recent alliance, he refused to trust them. \n\nBut a duty is a duty. The road seemed to wind on forever with an ocean of coniferous trees at either side. The skies were dreary grey with a welling moisture in the air. Water for the well, Lasson thought to himself, blocking out Gnawe's empty babbling. \n\n\"If I seeing her again, I'm going to fck hard, man. You know what I mean??\" Gnawe's wide sneer was offputting, the remnants of his teeth looking like half-molten volcanic rock.\n\n\"Stay focused,\" Lasson told him, feining a friendly smile. Gnawe laughed and pulled the elegant bow off his shoulder, tugging the string which rung like a musical instrument. \n\n\"There no deer, man,\" he blurted confidently. \"You too serious.\"\n\n\"I am serious,\" he shot back, grappling with irritation. \"My people are hungry.\"\n\n\"You people are pussy,\" the pompous Yellow Cub laughed. Lasson came to a halt, his hand grasping for the hilt of an obsidian dagger nestled at the waistline. In his eyes were a blossoming fire, and he held it quietly for a moment, gazing.\n\n\"Relax,\" Gnawe assured him, patting Lasson on the shoulder. \"It's joke, man. Relax. Let's go, come on.\"\n\nLasson held his ground.\n\n\"Come on. I sorry, ok?\"\n\nThey continued on in a tense silence. The clouds were beginning to release now, sending a light mist over the foliage below. The two travelers welcomed the cooling shower. It felt nice, but it also made it harder to follow animal tracks. Not too hard, however. They found something another kilometer out and followed the trail into the lush forest. \n\n\"You think it's a big one?\" Lasson asked excitedly. His clan weren't much for hunting, but he treasured the image of laying a 600 lb buck at the feet of his chieftain. Perhaps he would finally merit his respect, as he had merited the love of his daughter in seclusion. \n\n\"It big, but...\"\n\n\"But what?\" Lasson prodded, his interest piqueing. \n\n\"I dunno,\" Gnawe replied. \"Maybe not deer. I dunno.\"\n\nAs they trudged up the hill through the greenery, weaving between the thicke of bushes and branches and bark, the sun was beginning to set beyond the hill casting a perpetually darkening shadow over the valley. The two emerged at an unusual hut.\n\nThe trees around it had been purged neatly, and the hut was unlike that of any tribe they had seen before. It was built from the logs of trees, but the cut marks were too precise for axe or saw. It was beautiful. A marvel of perfect symmetry. Almost like art. Lasson's heart began to race. \n\n\"Those Who Came Before!\" he exclaimed. Gnawe shushed him, readying an arrow between his bow just in case. Lasson had heard stories of Those Who Came Before from the tribe elders - orations full of magic and wizardry passed down through generations and surely embelished by vibrant storytellers. Still, it was fascinating to finally see something from them, instead of just hearing about it.\n\nThe indication of a doorway was carved into the side of the hut with strange childish and alien letters etched into the mahogany. \n\n\"Ran...\" Lasson struggled in a low, shaky tone. \"Ran...ger... cabin. Ranger cabin.\"\n\n\"You read the old letters??\" Gnawe was shocked and impressed. \n\n\"My father's father taught me,\" he replied. \"But I'm not very good.\"\n\nLasson pushed the wooden pane, but it wouldn't budge, so Gnawe kicked it. It remained sealed. They kicked it together at the same time. The door began to give way. By the third kick the center of the gate burst into a scatter of splinters, and it slowly creaked open emitting a gust of warm, moldy air.\n\nSquare sheets of paper were scattered about. They were whiter than any the two had ever seen. White like the shell of a bird egg, or perhaps more. And they were laid out in every inch of the floor, laced with more of the strange comical letters of Those Who Came Before.\n\n\"There,\" Gnawe pointed. \"Table.\"\n\nLasson approached it. The elegant design looked like something unhuman. Such precision, each leg shaped into a rigid support beam and finished with a shiny gloss. Perhaps these were crafted by a higher being, or some archaic form of witchcraft as he had been taught. \n\nLasson set his palm down against the dusty surface, sliding his hand across it and admiring the perfect flatness. But his attention was completely rerouted the moment he saw it*. \n\nThere it was, sprawled on the ground at the edge of a large metal shelf and shattered shards of clear glass. The thing that would alter the course of his clan forever, but he didn't know it then. He only found its appearance so unique that he became drawn to it. \n\nIt was heftier than he initially thought it might be as Lasson lifted the object into his curious arms. The metal was strong and etched with unusual ridges and textures. It felt like something that had been built with care, for a crucial purpose. \n\n\"What that?\" Gnawe whispered. \"Give me here.\"\n\n\"Wait,\" Lasson replied.\n\nHe held it closer. There were letters on the side. He read them outloud slowly.\n\n\"Smm... Smith... and... W-...Wesson.\"\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nEDIT: Spelling errors, sentence flow. " ]	4
	[WP] Unsure of how you've gotten there, you find yourself in a stark white desert with a clear blue sky. In a voice that sounds much like an IT employee, you hear from somewhere above, "Well how on Earth did you end up here?"	[ "\"Uhm.... Honestly i don't know. Where the hell am I?\"\nThe white changed to a slightly greenish tone \"Well. Thats akward. Where do i even start. So basically i am God. And you are the only being here. Except for that cat some time ago. Imagine this as ... yeah Schrödingers limbus. You know that theory of Schrödingers cat? Well its true. Somehow. Not really. To a certain level it is. Instead of being dead and alive everything unobserved ends up in a limbus\" Tilting my head I decided its best I pretend to understand everything. \"So . I'm dead. And not dead. But aren't there many more unobserved things in the World?\" The voice laughed:\" No not really you are very much alive. And you are the only unobserved BEING. I guess you are in a coma and nobody watches you, not even machines. Pretty fucked up Situation I guess. Well. I need you to get out of here. \" In the next Moment heard someone searching through a big pile of papers. \"Ahhhh there it is\" The voice said. \"You will now stop to exist. Sorry but those are the Rules. Termination in three-two-one-goodb-\"\n\nSooo.. my first attempt ever. Since english is not my native tongue i'm sorry for every error i may made. Leave a comment if you want !" ]	1
	[WP] The death toll was too high while attempting to colonize Mars, so the government decided to use prisoners as expendable workers instead.	[ "“The prisons are empty, sir.”\n\nLimon Keans felt the involuntary twitch in his left eyebrow. No, he thought, I have to stay in perfect control. The future of our country, our species, depends on it.\n\n“WHAT!?” He shouted.\n\nKeans never really got those mad scientist traits in check and cursed them like he always did when one of them popped up.\n\n“The prisons are empty, sir.” The stiff and lanky man standing on the opposite side of Keans private laboratory repeated, looking completely unperturbed.\n\n“No more thieves?” Keans asked, refusing to accept the silly news.\n\n“No, sir.”\n\n“Murderers?”\n\n“Unfortunately not, sir.”\n\n“Rapists?”\n\n“Doesn’t look like it, sir.”\n\n“Drug dealers?”\n\n“All gone, sir.”\n\nKeans rubbed his chin. “Anyone with unpaid speeding tickets?”\n\n“All paid, sir.”\n\n“I’ll be damned!” Keans threw his hands up in the air with resignation. “Well, that’s just great! Fantastic!” He steadied himself by leaning on one of his lab desks filled with flasks and cylinders. “Tell me, Frank, what has the world come to? No more criminals….”\n\n“I ask myself that every day, sir.”\n\n“And you should!” Keans grabbed one of the flasks filled with a purple substance and took a huge gulp, immediately feeling more calm and in control as the liquid’s effects settled in. “So, what does the president think to gain by telling me this?”\n\n“The president wishes to hear an alternative solution to the Mars problem, sir.”\n\nKeans wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his lab coat. “I already suggested using prisoners.”\n\n“And we did. But that has become considerably harder ever since the prisons became empty, as you might imagine, sir.”\n\nYes, Keans could imagine. \n\n“How’s the terraforming research going, sir?” Frank asked.\n\n“Oh, it’s done.” Keans made an offhand sign to one of the ready to burst folders on the desks next to Frank.\n\nFrank’s eyes widened. It was the first ever sign of emotion Keans had seen on the messenger’s face. “It’s done?” The mixture of disbelief and awe in Frank’s voice felt greatly satisfying to Keans.\n\n“Yeah, see the green flask next to it? Just oxidize that stuff in the sad thing that’s Mars’ atmosphere and within a year you can skip and dance on the planet without the need of anything artificial. It would be just like earth.”\n\nFrank grabbed both the folder and the flask with the eagerness of a young child and ran out the door of Keans private laboratory. ““I need to immediately inform the president,” he shouted as he ran, “you should’ve contacted us when you were done!”\n\nA grin appeared on Keans face as he softly whispered something to himself.\n\n“But I was already done the first time you asked for my advice.”" ]	1
	[WP] You are a lucid dreamer and spend your dreams as a character in your favourite narratives. As your alarm echos in your dream, you realise, you can not wake up.	[ "\"Again!\" Morpheus shouted as I struggled to get to my feet.\n\nI was getting better each time I fought him, although I had been at it for weeks. Every night for a solid 40 some days I've been giving all I got to this man. Somehow I couldn't modify my dream well enough to drop his \"difficulty\" you could call it. Typically, whatever I'm doing can be modified down to the smallest detail after I've spent enough time in that space. I tried not to think about it and hopped to my feet. \n\nI knew that if I was to fill the role of Neo before I woke I would have to stop over complicating things and just do. As he kicked me by body recoiled backwards and my left hand struck the wooden floor of the complex with such force that my palm met the concrete and splinters littered my vision. I countered, but not fast enough, and back to the floor I went.\n\n\"Stop trying to hit me and hit me.\" he shouted\n\nI was getting sick of hearing that. Why couldn't I change it? It made no sense. In a world where completely controlling your own sweet ass dreams on a nightly basis made perfect sense, but that's beside the point here. I was starting to get worried and quickly. This time he attacked without my knowledge.\n\nThe attack came from above. He sprang himself against the ceiling and was bolting towards me. The air felt thick and I couldn't move. Couldn't move? Why? I really can't do anything. And Morpheus isn't moving either. I mustered all I could to move and it felt, painful. I examined him closely, this usually happened only when I got scared, so I know examining and looking for changes is the best way to understand that I'm in control and to get it back before just waking up violently. Waking up would suck and I was winning... kind of. \n\nWell, I could be winning if I could change anything. Morpheus began to move. Good sign, but he was moving about as fast as I could. Snails pace at best. At this rate we're five feet from each other and he'll taste my counter attack in about a century or so. But like I said, moving is a good sign, means I'm not completely crazy. For better or for worse, I decided to change the scenery to something a bit more palatable. In this state, I'm likely to wake up and by my estimation I had only been asleep about four hours.\n\nWaking up in the middle of a dream like this without some closure gives me a headache you wouldn't believe and for some of us it's been fatal. I was in the the hospital for a couple days last time that happened. You'll never catch me in a wizard duel with Gandalf in the middle of Mt. Doom ever again, mark my words. Makes for a killer story though, I'll let you know how it went after I get my happy ass into a better scenario. \n\nI closed my eyes and tried to bring the whole situation down to zero. A blank slate. Almost like a page with nothing written on it for active dreamers like myself. A safe zone. It only takes a moment. With practice you visualize and then you're just there. It was hard the first few times, I could only go places that I had been a lot before. Real places; like the home I grew up in or my high school. Those places were the easiest since I had a lot of memory to draw from, but then it became easier to control. I can go anywhere my brain will take me now, that's some superhero shit. They're even using a lot of active dreamers for combat simulations and all that. Count me out. \n\nI opened my eyes. As you can imagine, with the type of luck I was having tonight my brain didn't agree with me. However, I did end up in more relaxing place. I just wouldn't call it the blank slate I was looking for. Relaxing though. \n\nI'm in a cell of some kind, that much is clear, but not in the way you'd think of if I were to describe it over beers or anything. These were cylindrical cells designed for one person and only one person. Someone could have handed me a ham sandwich through my dangling prison but that's about all the room I have in here. Have you caught on that I was joking about the whole \"relaxing\" bit? \n\nIf you've ever played the game Dark Souls then you know the individual cells I'm talking about. Formed for a person, barely enough room to stand, and dangling from a rusty chain that typically takes you from room to room. Trouble is, the damned door wont open. Think of it like a mold and the door is half of the enclosure. Now, if you've never played the game, these doors open freely most of the time. Except for right now, of course. \n\nBeyond that, a new problem has arisen that makes getting out of here a lot more pressing that it otherwise would be. I can hear my alarm. That's right. The one telling me to get my ass up or I'll be late for work, that alarm. \n\nI don't know if I told you this yet, but I can't wake up until I'm calm and reset. Resetting is kind of like clearing my mind, so I can wake without those killer headaches or worse. Another thing I failed to mention... My one-man prison has started to move.", "\"Yesterday, I was a pirate\" I claimed, smiling and remembering all those days in Tortuga Island, ready in the morning to captain the best pirate vessel anyone had seen, engaging in long and deadly battles against treasure-filled merchant ships and returning feeling drunk with glory and power, to get proper drunk with rum and having my way with the tavern's whores. \n\n\"The day before that I was a space werewolf\" I continued. Remembered fighting my way in some floating gas mining platforms, above the big red eye of Jupiter, looking for any of its moons to go full and make me transform. Leading the attack on astronauts from Earth and other species.\n\nOf course, those details are not important to tell anyone. Inside dreams, I could go for days, months or years. Always enjoyed all this fantasy world my mind could create and since I was able to interact with it, I had the most amazing nights. Nevertheless, I rarely speak about the dreams when I'm inside another dream. Is just that I enjoy them so much, is hard to speak to anyone about it without alienating them. My real life friends already see me as a weirdo: I tend to stay at home, getting to bed early, eager to start my next adventure but it is all worth it. Now I'm in St. Louis during the prohibition era, fun times if you want to be a gangster and I have been a gangster for about...two months, or maybe about 6 hours of real time; it's hard to measure dream-time from real life time.\n\nHowever, I'm losing focus here and I could see Johnny \"Eight Fingers\" giving me a strange look. \"You are making weird shit up. Pirates and werewolves? You have been out of the roof!, eh? Only a patsy drinks on the job, especially this one.\" he said as he helped me lift a barrel full of illegal alcohol inside a truck.\n\n\"Don't you ever have any dreams you swore they were true? Surely you must have-\" BANG! BANG! BANG! Suddenly, several shots were heard and Johnny dropped to the ground. The rival gangsters were firing at us! \"Damn it! They shot me!\" he shouted while shooting back with his pistol. I got a machine gun and started firing back \"Hey Johnny! Let's kill these sonofabitches!\"\n\nBut my machine gun got stuck, weird, so I tried to get another one. Usually when in a lucid dream I'm able to control my surroundings to a certain extent, so getting another gun was nothing out of the ordinary to me... ...except at this moment where I was not able to materialize anything. \"I'll get the rifle!\" I screamed at Johnny, trying to get the gun from the truck's front seat but instead all I managed to get was a bullet through my tight that dropped me to the floor.\n\n\"We got them, boss!\" Said one of the henchmen. I could hear Johnny cursing as his gun ran out of bullets, I turn my head to see him struggling with his wounds, trying to reload its gun when I saw a couple of feet standing near him. \n\nBANG! my friend Johnny was no more. \n\n\"What have we got here?\" Said another gangster, kicking me in the wound. \"Damn it\" I muttered, trying to materialize a crowbar, a pistol or any other thing that could help me. Even reinforcements coming trough the door but I could not alter this dream. \"Is this the dreamer? It looks like a skid rogue to me.\"\n\nWhat did he say?\n\n\"I can assure you, it is not\" said their boss, I guessed. An elegant fellow, handsome and well groomed. Dressed up in a tailored suit, very expensive too. He produced a Colt which was pressed against my head. \"This is the dreamer alright. In another dream, he was a famous pirate. And a medieval knight of sorts in another one. You probably don't remember of course.\"\n\nHow did he know?? Who was this guy?\n\n\"I don't think he will wake up from this dream, though. He will die here, alone and confused\" he said with a terrible smile. I must have lost control of the dream and now it is becoming a nightmare, my own mind messing up with me. What time was it? Perhaps I can wake myself up now and try another dream. \"AAAAAAH!\" their boss was pressing the wound and as I tried to punch him, his henchmen grabbed me tight.\n\nBLEEP! BLEEP! BLEEP! BLEEP! Sounded the alarm. I felt instant relief. \"Sorry guys, but this adventure is over.\"\n\nBut the dream was not over. The henchmen were looking for the source of the noise, which echoed through the warehouse. But their boss didn't move from my side and neither his Colt from my temple. \"Don't worry Gary. Yes, I know your true name and everything about you. You see, we got tired of losing every single adventure you drag us into. But no more. It is our time to shine.\"\n\n\"He doesn't look good, boss. He might have shat his pants!\" Laughed another one of them. \"He'll look much better in a wooden kimono, don't ya?.\"\n\n\"No. I have different plans for him. Take him and have the croaker patch him up good. Need him alive, for now.\" Cold sweat on my back, I felt sudden terror as I could not wake up, the alarm still echoing through the air and was dragged to their car. I was trapped inside this dream, no... ...this nightmare.\n" ]	2
	[WP] Cats try taking over the world. They did not account for our greatest weapon though: The Red Dot....	[ "VOICE LOG\n\nIt is day 42 of our combined efforts to usurp the planet Earth from the humans. Difficulties continue. The humans have unveiled their strongest weapon yet. It is a cylindrical object that summons a Red Dot. The \"laser\" has been known to us for some time. However, they seem to have retrofitted it with-\n\n\n-TUBBY! DO NOT FOLLOW THAT-\n\n\nDammit-\n\nEND TRANSMISSION\n\n*\n\nVOICE LOG*\n\nDay 45. Heavy sigh.* Tubby has been lost to the Red Dot. My attemps to discover an antidote to the effects of the lasers are disappointing, at best. Colonel Rusty Bootpatches has volunteered for an experiment involving an aerosolized sample of cat nip. He is to arrive at any moment now.\n\nEND TRANSMISSION\n\n*\n\nVOICE LOG\n\nDay 45, evening. The cat nip was successfully administered to Colonel Rusty Bootpatches. I had high hopes. Due to the plant's enhancements of our abilities and mood-elevating properties, I figured it would provide us with better defenses against the Red Dot.\n\n\nI was wrong.\n\n\nShortly after administration, Colonel Rusty Bootpatches dove out of the window to pursue a Dot that even I could not see.\n\n\nHe has not returned.\n\n\nEND TRANSMISSION\n\n\n\nVOICE LOG\n\nDay 57.\n\n\nHad to abandon dinner. A Red Dot appeared on the wall above my bowl and refused to leave, despite my many swats.\n\n\nI am hungry.\n\nEND TRANSMISSION\n\n\n\nVOICE LOG\n\nDay 70. Several more of my colleagues fell to them over the last week. Fussy Tittles, Cow, Gibbers, and Fishpaws were lost all at once.\n\n\nWe are growing wary of meeting in groups.\n\n\nEND TRANSMISSION\n\n\n\nVOICE LOG\n\nThis evening, Gibbers's month old daughter, Susu: The Skullcrusher of Doom, was lost to the Red Dot. Her memorial service is tonight.\n\n\nShe was too young.\n\n\nToo young.\n\nEND TRANSMISSION\n\n\n\nVOICE LOG\n\nHow many of us need to die?\n\n\nWe are trying to surrender.\n\n\nWe keep** trying to surrender.\n\n\nBroken static.\n\n\nThey refuse to accept.\n\n\nThe Red Dots are everywhere.\n\n\nSend help.\n\nEND TRANSMISSION\n\n*\n\nVOICE LOG\n\nDay ... I don't know.\n\n\nThe Red Dot haunts my dreams.\n\n\nI feel it everywhere.\n\n\nFeather has not returned from his search for food. I fear the humans have gotten him. ...The ten of us have not eaten in at least a week.\n\n\nDoes anyone hear this? Please send help.\n\nEND TRANSMISSION\n\n\n\nVOICE LOG\n\nIt is coming.\n\n\nIt is coming.\n\n\nStatic, crackling.\n\n\nWe are trapped.\n\n\nCan you hear this? Is anyone recieving these messages?\n\n\nWe are trapped!\n\nEND TRANSMISSION\n\n\n\nVOICE LOG*\n\nTerrified meows broken with static.\n\n\nYeowling.\n\n\nWe have nowhere to go!\n\n\nIT'S HERE.\n\n\nPLEASE HE--\n\nEND TRANSMISSION*" ]	1
	[WP] You're a detective on your city's police force. A dead body has been left on your stations's steps. The body looks exactly like you.	[ "\"...How is this possible?\" Riley Monroe mumbled to himself, his teeth biting on his thumbnail. He stared at the dead body on the table.\n\n\"Looks exactly just like you, detective.\" The medical examiner was busily digging into the cause of death. \"Picture perfect, if I do say so myself. The likeness is uncanny...\"\n\nNo one knows how, but the body had just been dumped in front of the police station without anyone noticing. Even the cameras didn't pick up a single clue on how it happened. One second it wasn't there, the next, dead body sprawled face first on the marble steps.\n\n\"And you don't have single lead to who might have done this?\" continued the ME. \"Not even a suspect?\"\n\n\"No,\" answered Riley. He paced back and forth in nervousness. He didn't mention the note he found. It was a note meant especially for him. \"...There isn't anything.\"\n\n\"Pity.\"\n\n\"You sure you didn't lose a twin at birth there, Riley?\" chuckled his partner, Gaspar. He seemed to have found the whole thing amusing. \"Maybe you should call your Ma just to make sure?\"\n\nRiley didn't think this was the time for jokes. This was serious. Someone did this, and he was out there somewhere. Just waiting. Bidding his time till he strikes again.\n\n\"Odd,\" mumbled the ME. \"Detective, if you could please come and take a look at this.\"\n\nGaspar and Riley came closer. While the ME was holding open the rib cage, they saw something strange with the heart.\n\n\"A black heart?\" said Gaspar. He scratched his chin while looking at it more closely. \"He died from poison or something?\"\n\nThe ME shook his head. \"No. It seems to me that this heart was perfectly intact and healthy. I can't understand why it's pitch black though. It's definitely strange. I know nothing of this nature to have happened before.\" \n\n\"I know...\" said Riley.\n\n\"What do you-\" Bang. Riley put a bullet in Gaspar's head just before he could turn around.\n\nThe ME fell on his ass, watching dumbfounded what just happened. Before he could register it in his mind, Riley aimed his gun at him and did the same.\n\n\"The operation is still salvageable,\" said Riley to himself. \"No body, no evidence, and no witnesses. I just have to get rid of everything. Then I make sure to find whoever did this.\"\n\nWith shaking hands, Riley took out a can for holding alcohol in his jacket. He began to spray it all over the room quickly. Tossing his lighter into the gas spread all over. The flames quickly engulfed the bodies.\n\nIt was good that he had sabotaged the sprinklers beforehand. The next thing he did was barricade the room so that no one could get in. If anyone came close to getting in, he would shoot them dead. Of course this would mean he would burn in the fire, but that was all part of the plan.\n\n\"The others will finish the job...\" Riley stared at the fire that consumed his dead body on the table. It was a surreal scene that reflected in his eyes.\n\nHe tossed a crumpled piece of paper into the fire. It opened up to see one single sentence on it before it burned to ash.\n\n\"I know what you are, and I will kill all of you.\"\n", "After many years of investigation, I finally arrested the suspect of the killing of a young girl. As a reward, I had the privilege to interrogate the man. Before going in the room, I was shaking. My first arrest and now my first questioning? My life has never been so intense. I prepared some questions with my team, took note of all of them and performed the questioning. Of all the information gathered from those twenty minutes, I was interested in only one : his motivation.\n\nThe questioning told us that he mainly kills male adults but since the young girl had witnessed one of his crime, he decided to kill her too. The reason why he killed ten men was unkown. The police officers in our station didn't care much about this, they just wanted him to go to jail and they got what they want.\n\nThis was a huge victory for the police station since we didn't have much success in the last five years. The next three months were great : people were happier than ever, worked more than before and we got a record for the number of arrests in one month in the whole city.\n\nThen, we learned from the news that Lucas Cronight, the killer, escaped. This has led to a silence in the entire room. Everybody was disgusted and we all knew what he wanted : to kill me.\n\nThe next day, the shock was intense when we saw a dead body at the steps of our police station with a letter saying \"Bring me The real Matt Sylvanak\". I got scared. As I come closer to the body, the stupor got me : it's me. Impossible! The face, the ears, the hair, the body, my height, it is me. The room was silent, the superintendent gave me a pat on the back to cheer me up a bit. I was crying. I knew it couldn't be me but for some reason, I felt connected to him. Bruce, my colleague saw the body and then said to the others \"Let him alone for a bit, it's his brother afterall\".\n\n___________________________________________________________\nI continue if you're interested.\n Also, English is not my native language. Feel free to give me feedback. Thanks.\n" ]	2
	[WP] You're lying on your back staring up at the sky. All of the sudden, you see a single human zoom across the sky....	[ "I look down towards my watch and realize it's time. The battle to save the galaxy is less than 30 minutes away and all of humanity is counting on me. Grabbing the strap of my katana I start locking it in place as I start to soar near the man I seen just moments ago. I approach the stadium arena realizing that it's about to be nothing even close to a simple battle, this will be a war. Spaceships landing on the outskirts of the arena make a howling noise as the approach the ground. I walk up to the check in desk and sign my name in. I pull my scarf up covering my nose so I don't breathe any toxic fumes emanating from this aliens. I'm suddenly stopped in my tracks by an official telling me that my sword is against arena rules so I leave it at the registration desk. Time passes as me and the other competitors are scoping each other out ready for what may come next. \"Cyborgs Vs Yokis\" it reads on the monitor, that's when all of us came to a realization. This wasn't just one on one matches, it's entire species going at it all for one prize, control of the planet in which I was born on, Earth. ", "The sky is particularly blue today, like the colour of the ocean down at the tropics. Blue, with a bit of green. The sun hangs high and proud, beaming brightly with brilliant orange-yellow light. There isn't a cloud to be seen, except for the little one over there-\n\n\nI cock my head to the side, examining it. It's shaped vaguely like a dog. ...Maybe a whale? I was never good at cloud-shapes more complicated than \"triangle\" or \"popcorn.\"\n\n\nYeah, I think with a contented sigh and slip my hand under my tank top to rub my stomach. I could eat some popcorn. But I'm much too lazy to get up right now, the sky is much too blue, and this grass is much too comfortable. So, instead of satiating my craving for buttery snack foods, I stretch my legs out and fold my left arm under my head, and continue my gaze upon the vast blue above.\n\n\n...And a person zooms by.\n\n\nJust ... right across the sky.\n\n\n\"What the fuck?\" I say, perhaps a little louder than I would have if I'd been policing my words.\n\n\nBut, just.\n\n\nWhat the fuck?" ]	2
	[WP]You are transferred to an earth-like planet by an unknown force. The only information you are given is 'You are alone' and 'You live forever'. Describe your progress as the millenia pass by.	[ "My breaths came faster and faster as the clock ticked, from 8 o'clock to midnight to three in the morning. I had almost done it.\n\n My fingers typed away at the keyboard. The most complete VR ever created, combined with the best methods known to man of simulating the human brain. Functional immortality.\n\nAnd it would be complete in two lines... one line...\n\n\n\"It's done.\" The breath escapes me softly, my emotions too split to give any voice to the thought. Exhilaration tempered by relaxation augmented by joy diminished by curiosity maimed by fear.\n\nThe fear didn't seem right. The roaring sea of emotions subsided more quickly that I'd thought possible, replaced by disconcertion, apprehensiveness, and vigilance. 'I'm not alone in this lab.'\n\nAs if it was designed to respond to my thoughts, a voice sounded behind me. \n\n \"Thank you for your service. Goodbye.\"\n\nThe beep that I'd added in as a notification of a complete brain scan happened and then -\n\nI opened my eyes. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened, what the grassy forest I was in was, why the blue sky above me seemed too perfectly blue. I had forever to sit in a simulation of the universe, and forever I would sit alone.", "I lie in bed, staring at the bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. I turn to the clock. It clicks over from 06:59 to 07:00. A hushed voice in my head whispers.\n\n\n\n“You are alone. You live forever”\n\n\n\nThose words haunt me since the first morning I heard them. I barely sleep these days. I crawl out of the nest of pillows and blankets I make for myself every night, in an attempt to be comforted by something. Even just a good nights’ sleep. \nI trudge down to the kitchen. Bare feet on stone floor. It’s cold. I switch on the kettle, and stab myself in the hand full-force with a fork. No change. I don’t even bleed. I pry the fork from my skin. The bloodless wound will heal by the time my tea is made.\n\n\n\n08:30. I let myself into the office block. \n\nI wander through the people. Their faces betray nothing. I don’t even try. \n\nIt wasn’t always like this. I still remember my life on the bright, quivering world. I was electrifying. I revelled in the attentions of others. I made people smile. I made people laugh. I made people angry. I made people exasperated, surprised, amused, indignant. I felt those things too. \n\nFor the first few weeks, I did try. I smiled at people. I tried making jokes. I went out of my way to be the vibrant person I was before I was transported. The apathy I got back was palpable. It shook me to my core. I felt myself breaking. \n\nI tried screaming, crying, cursing. It was as if I’d said no more than “good morning”. No reaction. That wasn’t the worst. I saw people interacting. All those emotions I thirsted for, my throat raw with the desperation to express and receive - they shared with one another. It was as if they could sense that I was alien.\n\n\n08:32. I sit at my desk.\n\n\n\nI used to feel such urgency to grasp onto one exquisite moment of contact. Now I feel nothing.", "Here, at the very end, much of my existence is a blur. Time only truly has meaning and value when it is a finite resource. When one is an immortal being, it becomes considerably more difficult to separate one point from another. There are certain things that stand out, of course – the beginning, for example, I can recall far easier than much of what came after. \n\nI was born into a prison camp on the planet Earth, enslaved by my government for a crime my grandfather had committed. Life for me was brutal, pointless and utterly cruel – I watched members of my family systematically starved and worked to death, knowing full well that what I was witnessing was a preview of my own fate that was to come once the state had no further use to me. Never knowing hope, love or even the faintest glimpse of joy. Early into my 20s a plague ripped through the camp’s inmate population, wiping out what was left of my friends and family. The plague terrified the guards, and this fear drove them towards new heights of brutality and vicious, unprovoked cruelty. \n\nIn my sorrow, my emaciated frame cradling the diseased cadaver of my mother, I wailed towards the sky. It was all I could do in this moment of purest despair, seeing a group of guards heading towards me with truncheons raised. Coming to take my mother away, to toss her into one of the open pits they’d been filling with bodies since the outbreak began. Knowing when the pit was full they would douse it in some liquid, toss in a flaming stick and let them all burn. Clinging to her body, hugging it desperately as I did when I was a small child and the guards were making an inspection of our barracks, I could only hope that they were coming to kill me and throw me in the pit with her.\n\nA moment before the guards reached me, the scream in my throat was abruptly silenced as my vision turned black and I was overwhelmed with a brief sensation of vertigo. As quickly as the sensation arrived it vanished, and I suddenly found myself standing on a high cliff overlooking a lush, forested valley. I can remember freezing in place, unable to move as if I were in the grip of an electrical current. I could not understand what was happening – has my mind finally broken in the moment of despair? Am I dead? Is this the afterlife? As if in answer, I felt a voice that seemed to echo both outside and inside my body – I could feel the words coursing through my being as well as hear them.\n\n“You are alone. You will live forever.”\n\nThis is the point where things begin to become blurred. I remember a few things about the time immediately after my arrival in this world. I spent a while learning about the nature of this new existence. I discovered that I did not require food, sleep, shelter, or even breathing – though I could partake in any of them if I so chose. I discovered that I was utterly impervious to harm of any kind, and any predatory creature I shared this world with who attempted to attack me disintegrated upon impact with some invisible force that covered my body like a second layer of skin.\n\nThe first few years were ones of purest, almost ravenous joy. Having never known freedom or sensory experience outside of misery and the relentless, aching pain of slave labor, I took to them like an animal thrown a meal after days of starvation. For what seemed like a long time back then, my appetite for indulgence seemed insatiable. I ran through the forests and fields, learned to swim in the warm sea, danced in the moonlight and much more. For the first few months I brought myself to orgasm a dozen or more times a day, every day. During this brief fraction of my time on this world I lived much like one of the beasts I shared the land with.\n\nAfter a while, though, this binge of hedonistic experience began to grow stale. Not knowing what to do with myself and my seemingly endless supply of time, I began to build things. One project after another – small things at first, crude artwork and simplistic tools. Gradually, though, both my vision for conceptualizing as well as my ability to realize them grew. After my first century on that world, I’d built buildings out of trees from the forest and begun carving sculptures from stone gathered from the mountain I’d arrived on. It’s remarkable, I suppose, how productive one person can be with no need for sleep or stopping for food.\n\nFor a while, these projects occupied my focus and were very effective ways of passing the time. Months turned to years, years in to decades, decades into centuries. The seasons came and went with me barely noticing as I erected increasingly ambitious projects, each more complicated to engineer and build than the last. Statues taller than the trees, structures built in complex geometric patterns, subterranean labyrinths that spiraled deep into the ground – eventually I’d consumed much of the forest and even the nearby mountain for resources to realize my visions.\n\nCenturies began to pass in a similar manner as the seasons did before, with me barely noticing or even bothering to take note. Eventually, the passage of time began to eat away at my earlier creations – I saw the stone carvings erode from the weather, slipping away while I remained in my static form. A sense of futility and despair at the pointlessness of my creations began to creep into me, a sense I thought I had left behind in the prison I was born into. Around this time, my focus shifted from the inanimate to the animate.\n\nLike a child experimenting with its toys for the first time, I began seeing what I could do with the creatures I’d mostly left alone in the centuries prior. As I learned how to select for certain traits in matching captured members of various species, I began to reshape them according to my mind’s eye. Bending these creatures to my will, I would take one species and turn it into dozens of remarkably different offshoots over time through selective breeding. Life itself was my paint brush, the forests and plains that surrounded the decayed ruins of stone and wood I lived in was my canvas. \n\nLike my structures, however, these species came and went. I watched them evolve over the centuries once I released them from my control and eventually go extinct from one pressure or another. A large meteor once impacted the continent and annihilated the majority of my work in a matter of years, a blink of an eye in my sense of time. After restarting from scratch, it happened again thousands of years later. It was at this point that focus and purpose once again gave way to despair and futility, though this time there was nothing that arose to fill the void.\n\nI eventually came to see this existence as another prison – far more sinister and cruel than the one I had been born into. True, I did not have to deal with the explicit, torturous agony I faced in my years as a slave confined to a small camp, but here I was no less a prisoner – just one with a larger cage. I watched everything I had put myself into rot away and turn to dust over the centuries, demonstrating fully to me not only the insignificance of my efforts to find some meaning to my existence but the grotesque truth that this suffering will never end.", "I toss and turn as the feeling of some foreign object tickled my face. I bat at my face, \"Turgo, stop I am trying to sleep.\" But as I move my hand around my face I notice that it isn't my cat but something grassy or plant like. My eyes shoot open to find that I am lying in a patch of red flowers that brush up against me with every passing gust of wind.\n\n\"Where am I... What happened to my bed?\" Then the realization hit me. \"Oh shit what time is it?\" I just started a job last week working for an investment firm and this isn't going to look if I'm late only the second week into the job. Sitting there in the patch of flowers made me realize though how silly something like that is.\n\n\"I must be dreaming. How could someone be in their bed one minute sleeping soundly then in a field of flowers outside the city.\" Forcing myself back asleep, I take about a 30 minute power nap. Waking I notice neither the field nor flowers have left and the breeze is still just as comforting. \"...\" I stand up and notice that there is a pond only a few feet away from me and small flowers on lily pads float there motionless. As I walk over I get the feeling that I am not alone but it's one of those inklings everyone gets, like when they try to leave the basement and turn off the lights behind them. I know someone wasn't there but now that I turned off the lights there has to be.\n\nI walk over to the pond leaning down I splash some water in my face in hopes that the idea of cold water will jolt me awake but the water is warm and it feels great. Kneeling next to the pond a small light shines in the reflection of the water, like a light bulb it lights up in an instant and I jumped falling forward into the water.\n\nThe pond, surprisingly deep, muffles the sound of the breeze and everything around me but a voice as clear as day rings out in the mind. \"You will now be alone forever, and death will not grant you freedom.\" Poof At that moment the light disappears and I swim upwards.\n\n\"Gasp!\" I break the surface and take a breath of the warm breeze. \"ha...hahaha. I will be alone forever? In my own dream...or should I say nightmare?\" I focus my mind to try and manifest something, anything. Why won't anything happen? The events of this dream seem to real. Why is everything so linear, its a dream!?\n\n\"Get a hold of yourself Jeff. It's only a dream, no need to get upset! If you play along you'll eventually wake up.\" I begin walking what I think is north based on the sun's \"...wait. Why are there two... suns... Dammit this wont make my job any easier. Out of anger I began walking a straight line due...north?\n\nAbout an hour passes when I notice the grumbling of my stomach and I my throat is dry as well. I've been walking for almost an hour and have only seen fruitless bushes and trees. The more I walk the more I know this isn't a dream, this is real life. I have been brought somewhere and I am alone, I am hungry, but is it true that I cannot die?\n\nOff in the distance I can start to make out what seems to be a forest. The closer I get, the more I am sure it is. The tree leaves sway in the cool breeze and as I enter the sounds and sights of wind and light passing through the trees comforts me. The feeling of loneliness begins to vanish for only a moment, when I hear the sounds of an animal. As I approach the noise, I find a small dog, maybe just born. I notice that he sounds like he is having trouble breathing and I pick him up. He must have been abandoned.\n\nWithin hours the small pup passes away in my arms and the lonliness returns but so does sadness and despiartion. I lay the pup down in a small patch of leaves and begin to walk away. Maybe the voice meant I will always be alone. I begin running through the forest. It's not like I ever needed anyone anyway, I have always been alone. I never had a girlfriend, my parents died before I finished college. I was never good at making any friends and what good is this life anyways!?\n\nThe sadness really begins to overwhelm me. Tears drip down my face as I run, run from my fears, my feelings, the truth. \"You are alone.\" The though keeps rippling through my mind... I stop. I start to feel anger towards that voice, \"Who has the right to tell me I am alone? Who the hell was that voice anyways.\" Out of anger I slam my fist into the tree next to me, but there was no pain. I continue to slam punch after punch into the bark, but I don't feel pain. It's gone. \"No don't tell me!\" I pick up my pace once again and look for something, anything. I am going to show that voice it can't control me.\n\nAs I run for some time I see it, the answer. I am going to climb a tree and jump. I bet I could get high enough. I spent the rest of what seemed like a day climbing a tree. I would climb and fall repeatedly and my hands would never blister or bleed. The day goes by but the sun never sets. It stays directly above me for hours and I don't feel tired. I can't even prove the voice wrong. I can't even climb a tree. \"What have I done to deserve this!\" The words left my lips without even thinking them. \"Let me wake up. Let me go back to my life!\"\n\nNothing.\n\nThe silence eats at me as the breeze stops, but the trees continue to sway. Something wet hits my hand. Is it raining? But there are no clouds... Another drop hits my hand and I realize its my own tears. I couldn't even feel the feeling of my cheeks becoming wet anymore or the water sitting in my eyes. The feeling of my body has stopped. I lost the sense of feeling but not my emotions. I weep into my hands with loud sobbing.\n\nSometime passes and I clear my face. I stop crying. The feeling of my body returns to me as the breeze brushes through my hair, tickling the back of my neck. Is this what it feels like to be happy. A small quiver in my lip and what feels like a smile appears on my face. I know that its not that bad. Life happens and if this isn't a dream, I don't care. The day never seems to end. The sun never moves but I feel like I could sit here forever.\n\nThe voice returns again. \"You may leave.\"", "You, male human, are sentenced to an eternity of loneliness... \nThe words echoed through my head. After a few seconds, only silence remained. \n\"Hello? Anybody there?!\" I screamed. \nSilence. \nNot even an echo. \n\"Anybody?\" \nSilence. \nThat wasn't particularly good. \nDay Two \nStill no signs of other inhabitants. I am almost certainly alone. On the other hand, I have a steady supply of food: haggis. Which is strange, as they never existed on Earth. All I have to do is scare them and wait for them to come round the hill. Water, on the other hand... \nDay Four \nThe water issue is solved: rain. Unfortunately for me, rain is quite hard to store in large quantities, not guaranteed and cold. Extremely cold. \nDay Eleven \nI have no problems left by this point, as I have so much time to deal with all of the problems. \nDay 37 \nLife would be so dull if it weren't for all of the work I'm doing. \nDay 174 \nThe weather has changed noticeably.\nI think that this place has seasons. \nEnd of Year 1 \nThere are seasons: summer, autumn and spring. There doesn't appear to be a wintery time of year. \nYear 7, Day 275 \nLife sure is dull. It's just doing the same thing over and over again. But, and a very big but indeed: when I called out, the silence responded! Listen! \nSilence. \nSee? It's different from when I was dumped here! \nYear 107, Day 001 \nEven more friends! They give me all sorts of ideas! One of them said to find a rabbit and pull off its legs. I was a bit sceptical at first, but they told me that I must, so I did! The voices in my head are such good friends! \nYear 658, Day 074 \nI heard the voice from the start again. It told me to ignore the other voices, or 'bad things would happen.' \nYear 658, Day 075 \nAll of the voices caused such a racket in my head, but eventually my friends told the Sky Voice to go away. They said that the Sky Voice is being mean to me, and I should ignore it. Friends help each other out, so I listened. \nYear 658, Day 076 \nHmm. This is strange: there's fire everywhere. My friends tell me it's normal though, that it happens every year, but I'm not too sure. \nI told them that, and they got upset with me. They said I was a bad friend, which hurt me. I don't like it when it hurts. \nYear 656, Day 076 \nEver since my last important entry I've been getting along with my friends much better and the fire went today. The friends said that they got some help (which means I now have even more friends!) from some more voices, and they all stopped the Sky Voice from burning everything up. \nYear 2701, Day 130 \nMy friends always tell the truth and protect me from the nasty Sky Voice. Although I do wonder why they stopped it exactly a year after it began. But never mind that, as we have so much fun pulling little animals apart and poking them with pointy sticks. The friendly voices tell me that the redder they are the more fun the animals are having. \nYear 6048, Day 366 \nA little bit ago, I cut myself, and it was red. I asked the voices why I didn't enjoy it when I was red, if the animals did. \nThey haven't talked to me for 3 days now. I miss my friends, and when they come back I'll be a much better friend to them. \nYear 7501, Day 200 \nThe friends are back! I'm sure they were only gone for few days, probably too meet ask of their other friends. \nI wonder if I'll ever get to meet ask of those friends? \nYear 7501, Day 207 \nThe Sky Voice told me that it had planted a tree where I slept. It said it would protect me from the rain, so long as I didn't eat the fruit on it. If I do the tree will die. My other friends said that they felt betrayed, though. But they were being too fussy anyway, so I let them go. \nYear 7501, Day 293 \nI haven't eaten any of the fruit and the tree helps me to sleep at night. Also, I've noticed that the area I'm in is covered in blood, rotten lumps of flesh, random limbs and acres of scorched trees. This is strange. \nYear 8015, Day 020 \nI get so much more sleep then I used to. I also don't get lonely anymore as the Sky Voice talks about all sorts of things with me, from maths to how life is going for me. The conversations are very pleasant. \nYear 18574 \nThe Sky Voice had started giving me wonderful little baskets of tasty delights, from apples to boiled sweets. \nI do long for company other than the Sky Voice, though. \nYear 18963, Day 073 \nI saw a girl yesterday. She looked about my age, which is 16. The Sky Voice said I really did see her, and I'm not seeing things. (Once the Sky Voice said that the only way to live for eternity was to not age.). \nYear 18963, Day 074 \nI saw her again, more clearly this time. She has long, dark hair that flows down all the way to her hips. She's quite short, with slender legs. I thing the way to describe this type of body is petite. \nYear 18963, Day 365 \nI finally worked up the courage to speak to the girl today, as a New Year's Resolution. Her voice very soft, although I can't remember much of what we said. I do, however, remember that she said that her name was Eve. I told her that I don't know my name. I'll ask the Sky Voice next time we talk. \nYear 18964, Day 001 \nWe talked again today. We seem to click when on one another's presence, becoming much happier. I told her that my name is apparently Adam. She now stays where I do, under the Sky Voice's tree. \nYear 18964, Day 002. \nEve and I decided to synchronise our year counts, and I said we should use hers. Thus, today is Day 007. \nDay 008 \nI just noticed that Eve's cheeks seem to go red when I talk to her. I wonder what that means. \nDay 09 \nEve wanted to eat the fruit from the Sky Voice's tree. I told her that she couldn't, but she wouldn't listen. I had to hold her down. She got over it eventually. \nDay 11 \nWe're getting along together again. Eve has promised to never eat the fruit. \nDay 53 \nThe tree died. The Sky Voice was upset, and told us to eat the fruit. We did. \nDay 54 \nI'm not where I was. \nI remember tens of thousands of years of loneliness. \nI remember my first 'friends.' \nI remember the Sky Voice. \nI remember Eve. \nDay 55 \nI think it's Day 55. I can't stay awake, though. \nI see a white room and people with white clothes on. \nI think they're doctors. \nDay 86 \nThey let me out of hospital. \nNow I need to find the girl called Eve. \n \n \n \nI did this on mobile, so apologies for any formatting errors.", "\"You are alone,you live forever.\" Those were the last words I heard from another voice. At first before my first few deaths I thought it was a joke. I thought I had been \"kidnapped\" by friends as a joke. I wandered lost hungry and died by starvation. I woke up the next day in the same condition as when I first arrived. The first decade saw me build a stone age farm. The first century and I had iron and electricity. Then the problem started. I couldn't supply enough material to burn, couldn't mine enough coal, or chop enough lumber to keep power going for more than a few days. \n\nI gave up. I gave up and died and died and died. I went mad built myself a cage to hold me underwater. For a long while it worked. A few minutes of awareness then nothing. Too bad it couldn't last. My thrashing and time broke the steel cage. My prior work was mostly gone mostly rotted and grown over. \n\nI had a solution a way to never come back. \n\nFind volcano and dig to lava. ", "A voice booms overhead. The only voice you've heard since you landed here.\n\"My son, it has come time for me to check on you\"\n\n\"I'm not sure what you mean...\" you respond sounding perplexed. \n\n\"Your task was to make something of this land. What have you accomplished\"\n\nYou look around at your makings, and gleefully respond\n\"I made a house out of sand blocks, with a neat little door\"\n\n\"Dammit Tim, this isn't what I meant when I dropped you in this server\"\n\n\"Well shit, I never played Minecraft before, so fuck off\"", "I had arrived upon a vast field of curious whip-like flowers, whose colours and smells I had no name for. They were of a peculiar species which I, myself, happened to take a liking to. It was a shame that the picturesque scene was robbed of its beauty by the serene yet oddly disturbing voice that claimed \"You live forever. You are alone.\"\n\nI had, like any good German, resigned myself to my fate and accepted this absurdist reality. Indeed, I saw that whatever was happening was due to powers beyond my control and, instead of questioning that which I could not understand, I simply resigned to authority. What failure of a scientist I must've been! The extent of which I had accepted this reality frightened me. However, I had begged for God to take me away after I saw my son's mangled corpse in the mortuary. If he had decided to interpret my prayer differently that is no matter for me; I am resigned.\n\nI spent the first few months wandering the grasslands and Savannahs, befriending several local animals and fighting off quite a few. For some reason, my clothes never got cut or burned despite the many days of being dragged around in the red mud that littered this Earth. I had found that the furry dog-like animal was almost domesticated; and appeared to be a decent companion whom I grew to have an inordinate affection to. As such, I decided to name him Joseph, after my late son. Joseph had helped me hunt the cow-like creatures and cook their meat, and we kept on this routine for a while. I had made sure to take care of Joseph as much as I could, bathing him often and giving him routine exercise. \n\nI recall one day I had been fighting an ape-like creature. Being the frail thing I am, I was bordering defeat until, by some miracle, Joseph jumped on the creature from behind, taking a bit out of its neck with its strong jaws. In the process, however, Joseph was injured. I had spent hours patching him up, and he made the most pathetic sounds I had heard in the meantime. I swore that after he got better, I would make him a ball out of vines for him to play with. Joseph seemed to enjoy sampling human culture, as the ball quickly became his second most trusted companion (after me of course.) \n\nNothing interrupted this melancholic endless event until, one day, on some intuition, Joseph ran towards the horizon. I had run in after him, chastising myself on not building him the leash from barks and the unusually strong vines here earlier. What Joseph stumbled on, however, was a settlement. I could not contain my excitement, for I had run into the small town, passing by the mud-brick houses and the vines holding up the pathetic conglomerations whilst adorned with scornful and frightened looks from the populous. I was a creature who, for their case, wore frighteningly clear and alien clothes, with a bag full of odd metals. They all recoiled from my sight, and had looked as if humans had been laden with feathers instead of hair, with obvious scales and a light red colour to boot.\n\nThis stroll ended the second I saw the water well for then I knew what I had to do.\n\nI will adopt these people. I shall make this town a beacon of civilisation, and spare this race the horrors that we have faced on Earth. I shall spare them all the holocausts, the bombings, the wars, and all the collective sum of human misery, which weighed heavily upon my conscious. For me this was amends. I shall set up a beacon of hope for all the passionate and ambitious, for all the persecuted peoples of this Earth, to come to. \n\nJoseph barked, something, which, I had taken as affirmation to my holy plan. This is it; this is what I am meant to do to. It is my burden to act as the educator, imparting all the knowledge of man upon these primitive peoples, and, perhaps, in the later years, I will reconnect with the green trees of my native Bavaria. Until then, however, this was my burden..The human burden." ]	8
	[WP] A monthly Cheat Day is instituted -- one day a month any form of 'cheating' is legally allowed.	[ "NSFW-ish.\n\nThe fourteenth of every month was the busiest day for a baker like me. Yesterday, I spent 18 hours preping, went home for three hours of sleep and came back in to work at a quarter to four to begin the first batch of goods. Pastries and Cakes are usually the best sellers but old fashioned bread seemed to be trending up for the moment. \n\nThe customers began lining up around 4:30 for my 6 am open. The length of the line was usually determined by whatever carb hating diet is in style at the time but the clientele rarely changed. It's always 90% women in their 30s and early 40s that are 50 or more pounds overweight. Half of them are smoking in line. There are the occasional hipster looking kids that obviously live with a gluten-free SO or parents. The men tended to frequent the Barbeque down the street. There are people that would consider this observation sexist and petty but the truth doesn't concern itself with tact. Today both lines were longer than last month. \n\nI spent most of my day in the back while James took the front. He usually steals about 5% on the day but the rest of the month he's straight as an arrow so I generally don't bring it up. Even though I worked as fast and efficiently as I could we still ran out of \"the good stuff\" by 10 and the rest of the queue dispersed shortly after that. I need to figure out a way to expand the business but we make almost all of our monthly income on this one day. The rest of the time we squeak by on gluten-free products but that brings in only a few customers a day. Not enough to cover cost.\n\nAfter we closed up shop I went to the gym, avoiding the main roads. Drivers don't give two fucks about pedestrians on the fourteenth. The gym was pretty much deserted which is just fine by me. After three hours I made my way home in the dark. By then the sidewalks were covered in fast-food trash and cigarette butts. I passed about a half dozen junkies and drinks in business suits unconscious on the sidewalks. \n\nTurning the corner onto my street I saw that his car, a cliche yellow Miata, is still there, parked in my driveway . As I walked to the front door he came out. Nick Ashford, my wife's coworker, had the stones to look me dead in the eye and nod with a shameless smile on his face as he walked past me. \"Good evening, Mike.\" \n\n\"Fuck you, Nick.\" I don't even try to hide my disgust anymore. The bastard just shook his head with that shit eating grin and drove off. If he weren't protected by law I would have hit him in the back of the head with the pointy end of a crowbar until the whole front yard was red.\n\nInside my son, Mikey, and daughter, Angie, are filling out their math homework with the answers from the back of the books. I kissed then both on the top of their heads and went to my room. The bed was a mess and wreaked of sex. She didn't even try to hide it anymore. I heard the shower stop and she came out of the bathroom wearing just a towel. I could see bite marks and scratches still fresh on her neck. We used to fuck like that on occasion but I haven't been able to stomach sleeping in the same bed with her since the Fourteenth Day Law went into effect. \n\nI removed my shoes and grabbed a fresh shirt from the bureau. \"I want the kids to do their homework the right way from now on.\"\n\n\"There's nothing wrong with the way they're doing it now.\" She stood there defiantly.\n\nI put the new shirt on and heard for the door. \"They won't learn anything that way.\"\n\nShe wasn't swayed, why should the argument go any differently this time. \"I don't want to have this fight again, Mike. If you and the other holdouts would just let go and indulge yourselves then you'd see that it isn't a bad thing. It's liberating even.\"\n\nI clenched my jaw trying not to yell for the sake of the kids. \"Surrendering yourself to your basis impulses doesn't liberate you. It enslaves you. Being perfect isn't obtainable and we shouldn't expect it from each other but, th fast doesn't mean we should give up on morality just because it isn't. Not for a day. Not ever.\"\n\nShe heard every word but listened to none. \"Well I feel perfectly happy and free right now. You're the one who is miserable.\" \n\nI started for the door and looked her in the eye for the first time in close to two years. \"On that we can agree.\" I sniffed the air around her before exiting the room. \"You may want to brush your teeth before you kiss our children goodnight.\" Despite my hatred and contempt I wouldn't leave her. She'd use the Fourteenth to take everything from me if I did. There was even a small part of my heart that would forgive her if she turned everything around and apologized but, that part was shrinking each passing month. \n\nI settled onto the couch with my blanket and pillow. The TV was playing a series of infomercials as I slowly drifted off to sleep. At least I had another 29 days until I had to repeat this cycle. " ]	1
	[WP] "Run to the trees, they will protect you"	[ "\"Run to the trees, they'll protect you.\" \nMy mom always told me when I was a child. I always knew she meant it as just a way to keep my mind at ease at the time. But right now, I'm out of options. \nI've been running from \"it\" for what seems like hours now. It all started when I heard rustling outside my window at night... \nI live alone in the suburbs, so this is not an uncommon thing for rustling outside my window to happen. So I shrugged it off. \nIt wouldn't stop. I got up and walked toward my window to yell at whatever it was to stop. As I was about 6 feet away from the window, I saw it. \nI say \"it\" because the paw/ hand/ whatever it was, was like no animal or human I've ever seen. I stopped dead in my tracks and just stared. \nThe elongated claws, or fingers, I don't know, were unlatching the locked window... \nThis was strait out of some horror movie. And I've seen how those end. \nWithout thinking, I head to my front door and just took off. \nIt was pretty stupid of me thinking back. I could've called the cops. Or at least grabbed something like food or a weapon. But nope, I was never he sharpest cookie—I mean uhh—whatever, you know what I mean. \n\nMy mom was a single mom who raised her only child, me. And she always told me how strange our world is, and all the hidden things almost no one knows about. \nShe died when I was about 14. I had to survive on my own. No dad to come back to. Just me. \nSo I learned that the \"strangeness\" of the world that she was talking about was just another way of describing the cruelness and brutality. Being homeless and having to beg for a job for years is not \"strange\" it's cruel. But it is our worlds I guess. \n\nI don't have time to think about all that in the past. I'm not in the past, I'm here, being chased by some...demon. Who knows what it actually is. I've left the suburbs and I'm getting close to the forest. It is quite peaceful, but I barely had any time to think about that before I immediately tripped. \nDamn, just like a horror movie. I thought to myself. \nI looked back and saw a shape racing toward me from the suburbs. I then looked forward and saw endless forest. There was only one way to go. If I could ever get up in time. \nI couldn't. \nI could clearly see the shape now, in its full terror. \nNo words could describe exactly what I saw. \nIt was tall, about 7 feet, and had a hunched back. The \"demon\" looked way too similar to a person, but too mutated to be an actual person. It's running was not too fast, seeing that I was able to stay ahead of it. But it ran in a fashion that sent chills down my spine. \nI was laying on my back and used my feet to try and propel me backwards. The demon stopped running and just walked slowly toward me. Obviously dragging out the horror. I saw what looked like a smile from its bloody face. \nIt's demonic roar was interrupted by the rustling of tree branches and leaves. I hesitantly took my eyes off the nightmare in front of my and looked above. \n\n\"Run to the trees, they'll protect you.\" Mom's words echoed through my mind out of no where. \n\nThe branches from the surrounding trees seemed to form a dome around me. The trees bent and weaved in and out through one another. I looked again at the demon and it began sprinting towards me. I panicked. Would the trees be able to stop it in time? \nI asked myself. \nAs if the trees heard me. They completed their dome just in time. \nI heard the clawing of the demon outside of the dome. It roared once again. And went silent. \n\nI couldn't believe what was happening. \nI went from a fairly normal, stable life. To something strait out of a fantasy/horror book. \n\n\"Welcome.\" A strong male's voice said behind me. \nI realized I was still sitting, so I got on my weary feet. \n\"Uhh. What just happened?\" I asked, confused, as I turned to face the man. \nHe looked to be in his early 30's and seemed... uh able to protect himself, physically. If you know what I mean. I took the awkward pause as an opportunity to observe my surroundings. The dome was absolutely beautiful. Like its own small perfect world. \n\"It seems the trees have chosen you, young one.\" He responded after a while. \nYoung one? He looked to be the same age as me. \nBut I just stood speechless. \n\"Come with me. We've got a lot to go over.\" He said as he grabbed my hand. \nHis hand was a lot softer than I would've assumed for a man of his shape and size. \nAs he held on to my hand the trees unweaved themselves and a whole new world awaited me. \nA realm hidden from the rest of the world. \n\"Welcome home.\" The man said as he motioned to the lit up houses in the trees of the previously empty forest. I didn't realize I let go of his hand as I looked at all the beautiful houses of the trees. \nI then looked back and saw endless forest. No more suburbs. \nWas this my home now? \nI guess I'll have to find out...", "\"Run to the trees!\" A voice yells out over terrified screams. The night is alight with fire, and the cobblestone streets are swimming with hellish, formless beasts. They tear through the village and into homes, where the horrors they commit are concealed by walls. \"They will protect you!\"\n\n\nAvery clutches onto the handle of the doorknob in front of her and pulls on it. It jerks back, reluctant to give in. Inside the small house, Emily screams between her coughs. She bangs against the door in desperation, and then moves to the front window. She pulls at the frame, but it refuses to move, and the glass won't break against the chair she throws against it.\n\n\nHeat laps at the metal of the doorknob, and Avery hisses in pain as she lets go. She's been trying to get Emily out of the house for at least ten minutes. Throughout the village, others have been doing the same.\n\n\n\"Run to the trees!\" The voice calls out again. Avery wonders if he's aware that not everyone can leave.\n\n\nA low growl startles Avery and she looks up from her singed hands. In the short distance, a pair of bright red eyes shine in the shadow of an alleyway. Its bared teeth shine in the darkness, dripping with a liquid she can only assume is blood. Avery stumbles backwards. From within the house, Emily bangs on the window.\n\n\n\"Please,\" Emily begs. She coughs against the glass, a cloud of thick, grey smoke all around her. Flames dance along the cieling and creep out on to the roof. \"Don't leave me, Avery!\"\n\n\nThe beast growls again, and Avery takes another step backwards, then turns completely on her heels and runs down the street. The formless creature follows in close pursuit, the way the darkness of night creeps over the land.\n\n\nEmily falls to the floor, and she's lost to the world as another fell beast takes the form of a winged hound and crashes through her door.\n\n\nAs Avery runs through the street, she raises her hands to shield her ears against the screams of the helpless. She can't listen to them, not now, lest the guilt threaten to bring her to her knees. Instead, she plows on. 'Run for the trees,' she thinks. 'Run for the trees.'\n\n\nRoren turns a corner and runs up to Avery's side, and he points up the hill to the forest, where the towering trees swing their ancient branches against swooping shadows. If they could make it to the trees-\n\n\nA beast leaps out of the hungry flames of a collapsed house and pulls Roren to the ground with its great claws. Avery screams and trips over herself, falling to the ground with a thud. She looks up to Roren, who reaches out. As his long fingers stretch out to her, she kicks herself back and away from him. There is blood streaming from his eyes.\n\n\nAvery's chest rises and falls with heavy, labored breaths, and she stares, petrified in place as the great beast begins to devour her friend. He screams her name, but it's nearly intelligible through gargles and the streams of blood that spill from his mouth.\n\n\nShe wants to scream.\n\n\nShe wants to scream, but she needs to move.\n\n\nWith no small amount of effort, Avery pushes herself up to her heavy, shaking legs and lumbers forward. Slow, at first, and then faster, she slips into sprint. The hill is just up ahead, and she's coming up on it fast, but she can feel a beast creeping up behind her. Its smoky tendrils lick at the back of her neck, and she lets out a shriek as she dashes up the hill. Her legs feel like pudding and she's certain there are boulders in her lungs, but she can't slow down, and she certainly can't stop.\n\n\nAlmost there, almost there. The top of the hill is just a few more steps.\n\n\nShe feels a claw dig into her forearm. It burns like hot iron against her skin and she rips her arm away, cringing against the pain as the claw tears through her flesh. Just as she reaches the hilltop, a great oak shakes the ground with a stomp of its heavy, split trunk, and Avery dives for the ground as it swings a rope of its roots. With a crack and a snap that echoes through the air, the beast is taken out.\n\n\nAvery crawls between the wide legs of the oak tree and towards the forest, where a small group of people hide behind the protection of the Mother Trees. Finally, as she approaches the forest, a Mother Tree shifts to the side to allow her passage. A small sapling clings to its side, peering out from behind the willow. Just as Avery takes a step closer to protection, a beast comes at her from the side and knocks the wind out of her. She's pinned on the ground underneath its great, wide paws, and a claw scrapes against her cheek. As the warm blood spills down her face and onto her neck, she looks into the fiery red eyes of the creature above her.", "I felt the wind on my back, saw from the corner of my eye how it picked up locks of my long hair and playfully pushed them and my skirt forward towards the forest. It was cold outside, but the wind carried with it an unnatural warmth. It also brought to me unpleasant sounds. There were fearful cries in the air. My father and uncle were shouting out orders, and their voices were barely audible over the rumble and crackling of enormous fires.\n\nWe thought we would have been safe out here where nothing happens and no one visits, but we had been wrong. Eventually, nowhere was safe.\n\nFootsteps were approaching fast from behind. My father called my name, his breath fast and shallow.\n\nMy mother was dead, as were my siblings. My uncle had sent his family away early on and urged my father to do the same but my father had simply called him paranoid. He should have listened to uncle. First they had come for my mother. Her services were needed in the textiles factory. My older brother had joined my father in the mines.\n\nMother died in an accident. She had a closed casket funeral because my father didn't want us to see what had happened, but I'd heard the whispers about how her arm had been torn off and her shoulder stuck in the big machine. They said they were sorry for my loss, but they seemed awfully excited about all the commotion and eager to tell all their friends.\n\nMy brother fell ill and died. Later,\nmy sister would join him in death. She died in labour. She hadn't had a husband, or a fiancé. We suspected it was forced on her by one of the bad men in the city before she returned home. She had worked in the city, see, because she had been the oldest and was allowed to live there.\n\nI turned to look at my father. All I saw was his silhouette set against the big fire that was drawing ever nearer. Above it, an enormous black cloud rose up into the otherwise clear night sky like a puddle of ink blotting out the stars. Father looked so small. He had grown frail as time wore on and food grew sparse. Often he gave me his own rations, telling me I would need it more because I was growing. \n\nI knew he was lying. Not about my growing; I had grown two inches taller over the past year, but that wasn't why he was giving me his rations. He gave them to me because he wouldn't live for much longer, so he didn't need them very much at all. I had heard the hushed arguments he'd had with uncle. Uncle always accused him of abandoning me but that wasn't how I felt about what my father would do. My father just understood very well that he would have to fight and that he would die because he wasn't big and strong anymore. It was best for me that I didn't go with him. Father was very wise.\n\nHe finally caught up to me. He put his hand on my shoulder and leaned down to my height so we stood eye to eye.\n\n\"Are you going now, dad?\" I asked.\n\n\"I have to, sweetheart.\"\n\nMy uncle was still shouting orders behind him but they now sounded a lot more panicked. We heard him call for my father. \n\n\"They're waiting,\" he said, but whether it was to convince me or himself that he had to leave was unclear.\n\n\"It's okay, dad,\" I reassured him. \"I'm a big girl now.\"\n\nThere was a loud rumbling sound in the middle distance, like thunder but without lightning. My father's breath caught and there were tears forming in his eyes. I could barely see them in the dark, but I knew they were there and it made my bottom lip wobble. I saw through my own tears my father nod.\n\n\"I know you are,\" he sobbed. \"Remember dad will always love you.\"\n\n\"I know, daddy, I love you too.\"\n\nWe embraced. My uncle shouted again.\n\n\"Run into the trees,\" my father said and began to move away. \"They will keep you safe!\"\n\nHe turned and rushed back towards the house which had caught ablaze. I had to shield my eyes from the light. The smoke was trailing towards me and it made it difficult to breathe.\n\nI turned back towards the forest. The wind blew stronger now, encouraging me onto the new path that had been set for me.\n\n\"They will keep you safe,\" I repeated and took a step forward. I didn't know how they would do that, but my father was wise so I chose to trust him.", "Sylvie cowered in her mother's arms, trying to block out the shouts and screams that pierced the air. Footsteps rushed by; the wind carried the scent of smoke - houses, livelihoods, and lives, all going up in flames.\n\nNobody stopped to help them. Sylvie and her mother had always been outcasts, living in a shack on the edge of the village, in the humiliation reserved for adulterers and children born out of wedlock.\n\nA new set of footsteps approached - not panicked and rushing, but calm, confident, weighted with a jingle of metal.\n\n\"Sylvie, you have to run,\" her mother said, tears streaming down her cheeks. \"Run to the trees, they will protect you.\"\n\nThere was a loose board in the back wall of the little shack. Her mother pulled herself over to it, burdened by her wounds, and pushed it aside, uncovering a space just big enough for a child to slip through. Sylvie hesitated. \n\n\"GO, NOW!\" her mother said, voice steely as the swords of the invaders. Sylvie gulped, and did as she was told.\n\nThe village was surrounded by trees. And yet Sylvie found that she knew exactly where to go. Her feet carried her into the woods, and as she ran she felt an odd sense of peace, despite the village burning behind her and the unknown forest ahead. \n\nShe could not have told how long she ran, but when she stopped, it was in a glade carpeted in lush moss, overshadowed by huge ancient oaks with low, twisting branches. \n\nThere was a man - and yet not a man - standing there. His skin was greeny-tan, his hair was mossy, and he appeared to be clad in leaves. And he was looking at Sylvie with unmistakable love and pride written on his face, opening his arms to embrace her.\n\n\"Welcome, my daughter.\"", "The stranger had no name, all Caleb knew was that when he made his way into town it was to take the life of one of the bad men. The stranger's accuracy would always be held accountable, the bad men he took however would often miss resulting in casualties. Caleb had once seen an exhibition given by a man named Mr.Short when his father was gathering supplies from Dodge, Caleb even got to keep the shell of one of the bullets used.\n\nMr.Short was Caleb's hero from about the age of nine to around thirteen, because he had never seen anyone move so masterfully until the stranger showed up. Luke Short was on par with the fastest of the old west gunslingers, some said he could even give Doc Holiday a run for his money. Caleb imagined that Luke set the par for the apex of human ability, with how quick he was able to draw, cock back, and eject his munition and reholster it just as quickly.\n\nCaleb had seen how quickly a diamondback could strike, and Luke had been even faster than that. The stranger however clearly had some supernatural force guiding his hand, the first time that Caleb saw him he had come for Tom Ashton who had killed his own wife and the sheriff. They squared off outside the barber shop, Tom went for his gun and a loud report cracked the sky before Tom could even begin to reach for his gun. It appeared as if the stranger had not even moved at all, the only clue being that a single wisp of smoke traced his leather belt from the barrel of his peacekeeper. \n\nTom caught the single bullet in his left eye, the stranger heaved Tom onto his colt and tied him down no doubt to collect a bounty on him at Ft.Worth. That was three years ago and now the town did not even need a sheriff because the stranger would always appear when needed. Which was every other month. Each time dispatching his targets with speed so precise that Tom could never actually see him pulling his weapon at all.\n\nEach time Caleb attempted to get closer and closer to the action until this time he had been taken hostage by the Comanchero half breed Danton Williams and his gang. Williams sought refuge behind a stage coach where Caleb was hiding and was quickly taken hostage. Danton came out from behind the coach with his own gun aimed at Caleb's temple. \n\n\"Now...\" Danton began, but it was already over, Caleb's ears ringing as the shot fired.\n\nCaleb could not help but focus intently on the stranger's movement, he barely registered the mans arm move up then down, but perhaps it was Caleb's imagination compensating for the want to see something. The stranger made his way to Caleb and Danton's dead corpse.\n\n\"Run to the trees. They will protect you.\" the man said non nonchalant with no fear of the rest of Danton's gang surrounding him from above and ground level.\n\nCaleb wanted to stay but the stranger made no effort to care one way or another, his suggestion prompted Caleb to move so he did. When all was said and done the stranger had killed five men besides Danton. Caleb waited for the man at the treeline to ask him something.\n\nSure enough the man showed up with Danton strapped to his horse walking him out to collect his bounty. \n\n\"Mister, could you teach me how to do that?\" Caleb found the courage to ask.\n\nThe stranger lit a cigarette pausing to size Caleb up.\n\n\"You have to die first. Then fight your way out of hell. You think you are up to that?\" the man's raspy voice asked in turn.\n\nCaleb knew there was no humor in that statement, it was literal, Caleb considered the question seriously.\n\n\"No. I suppose not.\" Caleb confessed. " ]	5
	[WP]: Death died. No one knows how or why, but you have been enlisted as the new Death.	[ "Peter heard the sound of sirens below him. Must be the cops, he thought to himself as he cleaned a bloody kitchen knife.\n\nHe stopped to examine his latest work. Two victims, a man and a woman. The man had tried to protect her, and his efforts were rewarded with a stab to the neck.\n\nThe woman was far less fortunate. Oh, how she screamed when she saw her beloved fall to the ground. How Peter loved watching her struggle as he thrust the blade into her gut, twisting it around as blood flowed from the open wound. How he loved the sound of her whispering her partner's name for the last time, as her body went limp.\n\nNow the police were just outside the room. It was only a matter of time.\n\nPeter readied his blade. The three of them would not be the only ones to die in this room.\n\n...\n\nWhere am I? Peter wondered to himself, as he looked around.\n\nAround him was...nothing. No cops, no bodies, nothing. Just a white, endless landscape of emptiness.\n\n\"You have died.\"\n\nPeter heard a loud voice that seemed to originate from inside his head.\n\n\"What? Who's there?\"\n\n\"You just died. Who else do you think it could be?\"\n\nHe knew what was going on.\n\n\"So...I guess this means that I'm going to hell now?\"\n\nLaughter.\n\n\"No, no...nothing like that. You see, I have a very special job for you.\"\n\nBefore Peter appeared a scythe.\n\n\"You're going to be the next Grim Reaper. We used to only hire good souls for this job, but they all end up quitting on their first day on the job.\"\n\n\"And what happens to them after that?\"\n\n\"...Let's not talk about that right now. All that matters is that you have return to Earth and reap a few souls for us every day for the rest of your afterlife.\"\n\nPeter grabbed the scythe by its black handle, examining it closely. Although the blade was surrounded by a sinister, purple mist, he could clearly see that it was very sharp. Engraved on the blade was the name of the weapon: 'Last Breath'.\n\n\"So...let me get this straight,\" Peter said as he swung the scythe around, feeling its weight. \"Instead of punishing me, you're hiring me to kill people every day?\"\n\n\"Yeah, pretty much. Now go,\" the voice said as a shining light engulfed Peter, \"and fulfill your duty!\"\n\n...\n\nPeter opened his eyes. He heard the familiar sound of police sirens. He was back in the room where he died.\n\nHe looked down, and saw his own body, riddled with bullet holes. He smiled. He was proud of how he went out. Wouldn't have had it any other way.\n\nSurrounding his body were the police officers that had gunned him down. All of them paid no attention to the figure with the scythe. One of them was, however, examining his corpse, trying to identify the killer.\n\nA smile crept upon his face. He raised his scythe, ready to bring it down on his next victim.", "I sit I the edge of this little girls deathbed. \n\nWhy, you might ask. Why are you at this little girls deathbed?\n\nI might ask the same question. I have before. Why did I need to swing my scythe at that poor old man? That was my first mission. \n\nDeath is an interesting job. I am unnoticed by the mortals, and thank God, because I look hideous. Every job that you do as death, you get uglier. Or, by my mortal friends standards, more badass. Every job makes you worse and worse, until you are nothing but your chosen black job uniform and a skeleton. He thinks I died, of course. Death model 261's final job was me. He had a good run. A few centuries by mortal standards, a couple millennia by deaths time. He's gone. Where? I'm not sure. As death, I'm not informed as those smug ass angels are. \n\nThus, I am death. I slow time to drop down chimneys and give the gift of my sweet release. My scythe skills are amazing. When you get to to your hundredth job or so, it gets easier. I needed a way to spice up my life. \n\nThus, I spin my scythe. I stroll into a hospital, spinning my scythe. I extract the soul flashily, spinning my scythe. Too bad we can't choose the weapon, or I'd have gone with one of those new butterfly knives. Those are flashier. This girl is different. My eyes are sharp as broken diamonds. Her face lightens up as I walk into her dwelling. Not towards me, but I smell a whiff of familiarity. Her father reads her a story. I wait a few days, and notice that he has finished. He kisses his daughter on her bald head, and I know it is my time. She looks not at her father, shedding tears as he walks away from his daughter, unknowingly for the last time, but at me. She can't see me. Mortals never can. This one stares into my eyes, and the soul that I haven't seen in thousands of years. \n\nThus, I am careful. I approach gingerly and extract. The usual. No spin this time. Something is different. Her soul doesn't cling to my blade, as others do, but is shaped as a dolphin on a fish hook. The fish hook, my blade. The dolphin transforms. The girl stares at me. Not her mortal meatsuit, but her real soul. She stares at the scythe that I spin. The scythe that I've held for 400 mortal years. \n\n\"Is it my turn now?\" That's what daddy said...\"\n\nThus, I stand, black hooded and corroded, at the pearly gates. I click my fingers together, fingers made of none but bone. I have no knife or scythe to spin. I have no souls to take. I stand before Saint Peter, the smug bastard, and tell him I enjoyed my job. \n\nI don't think that I'll be getting that knife. ", "\"Welcome everyone, to Local 243's weekly meeting of the Industrial Anthropomorphic Entities Union! My name is Famine, and i'd like to welcome the newest addition to the Union: Death!\"\n\nI try to sink deeper into my robe, but these plastic chairs don't give a lot of leeway. \n\n\"I think Death wanted to introduce themselves?\"\n\nI cough, craning my neck to see if there's any way out of this. Ever since i'd been appointed, i'd been doing my best to keep a low profile. Unfortunately War had strongarmed me into coming to this meeting, \"To get to know the Gang!\" he had boomed. Standing i look around. The shitty strip lights are flickering a sickly yellow light over the proceedings, and already all of the Entities look bored. I'm pretty sure Charity is playing Pokemon Go.\n\n\"Um, so, i've been called in, i'm not sure why, and er...\"\n\n\"Yeah alright, Death, we know the drill: plucked from mortality and now you're in a Union, can we get on with this Famine? I've got some mosquitos in the breeder and the missus doesn't like us being late.\"\n\nThat was Pestilence, obviously. \n\n\"Now Pestilence, i know you and all of the brothers and sisters down at Allied Pandemics have been working on some new exciting things, but need i remind you that all of our jobs are being affected by these human... scientists?\"\n\nHe coughed up the last word like a bone stuck in his emaciated neck, and looked at me pointedly.\n\n\"Do go on, Death, we're all ears.\"\n\nI glanced over at where i could see Eros and some winged creatures i didn't recognise doing moist things in the back, and tried to continue:\n\n\"Er, so i guess we all know that business has been slowing down. War is already having to branch out into conceptual work, and even you, Pestilence have lost a couple of shifts working on smallpox and we're losing cholera. We're all in this together, and i hope we can work toward-\"\n\nSuddenly a short green figure burst in to the hall. A number of entities turned round to look as a swarm of poorly rendered figures marched in.\n\n\"We demand to join!\" croaked the green figure, which i could now see was a crude frog. \n\n\"And who might you be?\" asked Curiosity.\n\n\"My name is Pepe, and we're memes!\"\n\nI stared at them nonplussed as War rolled up his sleeves. Famine glared at them for a second.\n\n\"There's procedure you know. We have membership forms and-\"\n\n\"But what about him?\" This came from a small, satisfied looking baby. \"He just got appointed.\"\n\nThere was a general murmuring of assent among the diminutive newcomers. From the corner of my eye i noticed War getting something small and black and lethal out of his pocket. \n\n\"We're all legacy appointments,\" said Pestilence \"so we don't have to apply.\"\n\nI could see the multitude building up, and i turned to Famine: \"Isn't there anything we can do?\" \n\n\"Look, i've met types like this before. They get generated every time there's a population boom, have a big old fight, and eventually we just step in. People can depend on us. You, especially. All we do now is wait for the inevitable-\"\n\nThere was a loud thooom and suddenly i couldn't see War. Havok and Chaos were also suspiciously absent, and Progress had joined the few remaining Entities on the podium.\n\n\"Oh shit!\" said Pestilence, \"He's gone nuclear!\" \n\nIt was true: out behind the auditorium doors i could see the rabble of poorly informed decisions milling about, but now a definite undercurrent of Panic seemed to rushing through them. \n\nI looked at my new companions and noticed a change on their faces. There was a glow, and it wasn't just the radioactive glow of hydrogen bombs. They were excited, the fuckers.\n\nSlowly Famine turned to me: \"It looks like you're getting a promotion after all, Megadeath...\"", "Black to brown. A swirl of lighter brown. The two mixed and clouded and moved. My coffee still tasted like shit. I sat at the counter staring intently at my coffee for what seemed like hours.\n\n\"Hey!\"\n\n\"Wh- what?\" I asked, startled at the interruption.\n\n\"You alright?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'm alright, Cindy. Just another day at the office, as they say.\" She was familiar with me, as well as my corny phrases. I was a regular at this place.\n\nShe didn't know, however, the life I led. That I would outlive her, her grandchildren, and their grandchildren. That I would be the one escorting them out of this world as well. That I was death.\n\nI stopped asking why I was death. I just sort of accepted it over time. I wasn't born with a scythe in hand, or a skull or a black cloak. I was just an ordinary kid with dreams like everyone else. I played baseball, watched movies, ate hotdogs. \n\nI live in a small town: children play in the streets. People laugh together. People die, you bring a casserole. People help each other here. Of course they don't see me for what I am. And they're friendly.\n\nThe first time I had to escort someone away from their dead corpse, it was a nasty scene: a guy had crashed his car while drunk into a tree going about sixty miles an hour. His head looked like a tipped-over bowl of chili, as his head went through the windshield and smashed against the tree. I did not expect the reaction after his ghost lifted itself from his body.\n\n\"HOOHHH MY GOD! WHAT THE FUCK! THAT'S ME!\"\n\n\"S-sir, please calm down.\" I pleaded.\n\n\"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? WHY AM I LIKE THIS? WHAT HAPPENED?\"\n\n\"You crashed into this tree and-\"\n\n\"OH MY GOD! MY WIFE! MY KIDS\"\n\n\"Sir I am death.\" I interjected, sternly.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I'm here to take you to...\" I didn't know where I was taking him. I made something up. \"I'm taking you to heaven.\"\n\n\"Oh. Okay,\" he said, almost submissively.\n\nI didn't know what to do. 'Fuck' I thought. I eventually, hesitantly, grabbed for his arm. As soon as I touched it, he disappeared. Vanished. Poof. Gone. I didn't know what to do. So I just left. I didn't want to question what happened. I just wanted to forget about what I had done, and what had happened. So I went to get some coffee.\n\nSince then, I try not to think about all the deaths I see every day. I try to focus on the niceties of society. The smiles people give each other. The community. It's been almost 78 years since I became death. I often wonder how much more I'll witness. I feel alone, but it doesn't get to me that much. I've been solitary all my life.\n\nI walk every day. I hate cars, and it's nice to walk and watch people be people. Not dead. Doing things I wish I could be doing. But this walk was different. As I walked this day, I had to deal with another death. \n\nI popped up at the location of the death. It was in the town I frequented. Usually I end up in some large city, but it was here, in the town. I walked toward where the body was supposed to be, but I didn't see one. I walked farther. I saw a man, standing. He looked skinny, tall, and completely still. He was only half facing me, and looked very familiar. I began my monologue:\n\n\"Sir, my name is Death. I'm here to take you...\" I stopped as I got closer, ready to warp the man into nothing. I was speechless.\n\nIt was me.", "Thomas woke up in a bright room. It was well lit, and he was already seated in a comfortable chair in front of a solid metal desk. He sank into the seat as he adjusted his backside.\n\n\"Thomas Field- Fieldmaster is that really your name?\" A strange man across from his asked, typing away at his computer, a slight grin arriving, and then quickly escaping across his face.\n\n\"Wha- What's going on, where am I?\"\n\n\"Thomas, relax, it's ok. Well, not entirely ok, you're technically dead.\"\n\nThomas did not relax, and instead began looking around frantically. What? What do you mean I'm dead? His eyes darted around, and there wasn't a single door, window or light source in the room.\n\n\"Well, you're not entirely dead. You got hit by a bus, so I guess congrats on two things: Number one, you survived and are in a coma! And number two, you probably just got free tuition.\"\n\nThomas didn't know what to say. He honestly had to be dreaming. Suddenly a vague memory approached, revealing itself like a movie scene. He'd fallen off a step, and landed in the road.. No he didn't land he... He got hit by something right before impact.. The bus.\n\n\"Holy shit, what.. Where am I, what is this?\"\n\nThe man behind the desk smiled.\n\n\"Oh well this is heaven! I'm actually here to give you.. a... job\" He continued to type away, pausing his speech after every other word..\n\n\"A job? Wait, I thought you said I wasn't actually dead!\" Thomas complained. \n\n\"You aren't, this is a job for Earth, have you seen that episode of the simpsons where Homer turns into the Grim Reaper? That's kinda what we've got for ya..\"\n\n\"No I'm 20, I've never seen the Simp-\"\n\n\"Ok, don't give me that shit, it's still on, ton's of people still wa-\"\n\n\"Listen!\" Thomas interrupted him.\n\n\"Can you just tell me what the hell is happening? I'm so fucking confused.\"\n\nThe man popped his neck, and rolled his eyes.\n\n\"Christ, alright then by the way, name's Peter, nice to meet you too. Basically you're death now, and we're sending you down to Earth to kill people. That good enough for ya, should I have made a Supernatural reference instead?\"\n\nThomas stared blankly before finally expressing his thoughts. \"I... What, no I've never seen it, but wait I'm death? How is... What the fuck, how is this even gonna work, I don't wanna kill people?\"\n\nPeter closed his laptop, and rubbed his eyes.\n\n\"Christ, another one, your predecessor was the exact same for 140,000 years, I swear.... Look, Tommy you don't have a choice. I'm setting you up with a sweet gig ok. I could've picked anyone, and instead I picked your drunk, unconscious ass. You know like 4,000 Chinese died today? I could've picked 4-\"\n\n\"Ok, ok I get it, I-\"\n\n\"-FOUR thousand chinese over your idiot, scrawny ass. So count your blessings, we could've made you have serious brain damage and become a fucking veg-\n\n\"I GET IT, I get it, ok... Just, how the hell is this gonna work, am I like..\" Thomas leaned in, and whispered. \"Am I like an angel now?\"\n\nPeter began laughing incessantly \"Oh my God, no you're not a fucking Angel Thomas, that's like getting a job as a temp at a law office and asking if you're a lawyer.\"\n\nThomas shrugged, and leaned back. \"Well what the hell am I doing?\"\n\n\"Technically, lying in a hospital bed droo-\"\n\n\"You know what I mean.\"\n\n\"You're gonna go downstairs and live your life, and take the soul of anyone who needs one taken. Sound like a plan? Good, now let's set up your 401K options...\"\n\nPeter opened his laptop back up, and started typing.\n\n\"So.. Wait, I like... I don't know If I'm ok with-\"\n\n\"Tom, for fucks sake, you don't kill them. They do that themselves. You just take their souls, while your body sits kinda in like... Auto-Pilot.\" \n\n\"Auto Pilot?\"\n\n\"yeah, Auto Pilot, you know like a plane. Your soul will help guide them home, you ever taken acid and had an out of body experience? It's like that but not fucking stupid, and actually real.\"\n\n\"You cuss a lot for an angel, ya know that?\"\n\n\"And you're pretty fucking stupid for a Communications major in a fraternity, but ya know, we all like defying stereotypes.\"\n\nPeter closed his laptop, and handed Thomasa sheet with his info on it.\n\n\"Ok, got everything?\"\n\n\"Wait, how do I know who needs to die?\"\n\n\"Oh, you uh... Oh well fuck, a lot of people die every day don't they, I guess we haven't really figured this out!\"\n\nPeter exclaimed sarcastically, motioning for Thomas to get up.\n\nThomas followed him to a newly appeared door. \n\n\"Trust me, you'll know what to do. Now go, time to wake up and make your girlfriend the happiest girl on Earth, because she now won't have to make a new Tinder account.\"\n\n\"Dude come o-\"\n\nPeter pushed Thomas out the door, and he fell into a temporary darkness... ", "When the universe began, Death began. When atoms collided and split and fractured and bloomed, Death started its work. When molecules became organisms, Death relished the chance to hone its skills. When those organisms evolved, became intelligent, Death got creative. When those same organisms devolve, and there is no life left on any planet, Death will remain. Even the stars will die one day.\n\nAt least, that's what Death thought. Right up until he felt an inexplicable tug in the center of his chest and was sent hurtling onto earth, right next to the sleeping form of a human. Now, Death might not be able to tell you who The Beatles were, but he was pretty good with guessing the ages of humans. This one looked like he shouldn't be coming for it for quite some time, and he was momentarily confused.\n\nHe looked down at the human and decided it was probably a female. It had long hair and a larger chest than males had--or was it the other way around? So many species, so little time to learn all their anatomies. He shook his head. He knew he wasn't here to take this human's life. So why was he here?\n\nAnd then sudden, searing pain blistered through his entire consciousness. He'd never experienced pain before--was this why humans were so afraid of him? Now he could sympathize. He felt like he was being smashed into a paste and sucked through a straw. At last, he was drifting in comfortable darkness, and he sighed his final breath, and was at peace.\n\nI woke up screaming. I'd heard of people having out of body experiences, or dreams where they're floating above their own sleeping bodies, but damn. Seeing yourself sleeping from the perspective of Death himself?\n\nI was soaked in sweat and my throat felt raw, like I'd been screaming for hours.\n\nI stumbled out of bed and staggered to my kitchen to get some water. Fuck. I was still reeling. I gulped down my tap water and poured another glass, then finished that one, too. I glanced at the clock and saw I had another hour before I had to wake up for work, but there was no way I'd be able to sleep again. Not after that... I couldn't even call it a nightmare.\n\nSo I sighed, showered, blow dried my hair, put on makeup since I had extra time, and headed in to work early. I got there before the building was even unlocked, so I smoked a cigarette until the guy with the keys showed up to let me in.\n\nObviously, I was alone in the building. But I kept feeling like there were people around me. It felt like when I still lived at home when I was a kid, and I'd be sitting in the living room reading, and even though my mom wasn't making any noise or doing anything to alert me of her presence, I still knew she was in the kitchen. (My mom had a computer set up off the side of our kitchen, so it's not weird that she would just be in the kitchen, unmoving.)\n\nI brushed it off, and figured I was just used to being in the building when everyone else was also working. I got to my computer and logged in, checked my email, and started crunching numbers. 7 am rolled around, and my coworkers start filing in. By 8, the building was packed, and I could dismiss the feeling of being surrounded, because now I actually was.\n\nNothing happened all day, but on my walk home, a bird landed on the sidewalk right in front of me to peck at whatever work it had seen from forty feet up. I tried to skirt it, but the damn thing startled and ran right into me. I let out a sudden, surprised shout, and then suddenly the bird was on the ground, dead.\n\n\"Oh my god,\" I whispered to myself.\n\n\"Are you alright?\" came a voice from behind me. I turned around to see an old man in a terrible yellow suit.\n\n\"I'm fine,\" I assured him. He smiled and touched my shoulder. When he crumpled to the ground, I almost threw up. The smell of suddenly uncontrollable bowels being loosened hit me like a truck and I ran, thanking God that no one else was on the street to see. I called the police and said I'd just seen a man have a heart attack, and gave them the street address. I stayed on the sidewalk outside my house, around the corner from where it happened, until I heard the sirens.\n\nI went inside when I could hear the chatter of the EMTs as they loaded the old man into their ambulance. I was shaking, probably in shock or something, so I sat down on my couch and cried until I didn't have any tears left. I'd never seen anyone die before.\n\nThat night, I had more dreams of Death. It was like I was being fed his memories. I soared above a war torn field in Afghanistan, descending into the middle of the battlefield like a valkyrie and watching the wounded fall. I stooped and picked up their shredded souls, and the disappeared into my incorporeal body, becoming just another tendril of smoke in the darkness that shrouded me.\n\nNext, I was in a small, bleak roomed stuffed to bursting with malnourished people of all ages and genders. As they fell to the ground, I gathered up what was left of their spirits and accepted them into the folds of my cloak.\n\nThen I was in an office building. This one went quickly--lots of dead all at once, and I collected them and moved on.\n\nWhen I woke this time, I was sobbing.\n\nIt went on like this for days, until I swallowed a bottle of pills and drifted off to sleep for the last time.\n\nWhen I awoke, I was as healthy as ever. I felt like I could run ten marathons and never tire. I headed outside for a cigarette and a good cry, and ended up smoking half a pack. I went down the street to a sandwich place, ate, then smoked some more. I still felt like life itself flowed through my veins. I started walking back home when a guy about my age smiled at me from across the street, and gestured to the cigarette in my hand.\n\n\"Those things'll kill you,\" he said, and I laughed. What else could I do?\n\nI slowly realized that the memories were a part of me now. But maybe, since I had been human, I could be a different Death. A benevolent one, one who cares about the souls she takes. Maybe I can find mercy inside me, and use it to make things better.\n\nBut for now, I'm just getting the hang of things." ]	6
	[WP] You find a hammer and inscribed on it is, 'Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Hank.'	[ "Knock knock knock \nTapping my foot on the doormat, I wait patiently for an answer. The sun beats down on the back of my neck, the cooler October air doing little to relieve my skin of the heat. My coveralls are too warm for the summer, too cold for the winter. Now that I think about it, I can't remember the last time I was comfortable doing this job... Answer the damn door already...\n\nFinally, the door slowly opens and a little old lady stands in front of me in those typical old person clothes, you know the kind: Flower print, that kind of material that just screams \"Oh what a lovely blouse, my granddaughter would love this\" when all her granddaughter wants is a bikini. She beckons me in with a smile, I force a smile back and shuffle past her inside the house. Pictures of grandkids. Everywhere. \"I've heard so much about your skills, I'm so happy you could make time in your schedule. Tea?\" There she is, that picture on the fireplace mantel. That's got to be the granddaughter she buys the hideous clothes for. \"Sure, thanks ma'am.\" She smiles and chuckles, waving me to follow her to the kitchen. \"The stove is over there, in the corner. One sugar or two?\"\n\nI settle down on the floor next to the stove, take off my tool belt and set it next to me as the little old woman brings a cup of tea, puts it on the counter above my head, next to the stove. As I fiddle with the oven door hinge, I see her put two scoops of sugar in the tea. Not one like I asked for. Two. I smile and thank her for the tea. \n\n\"The hinge is stuck alright. Just give me a second and I'll have it sliding like a fiddle.\" Reaching into the tool belt on the floor, I slide out my hammer. Really, its the only tool I ever use, but I carry the rest just because I need to look like I'm a professional. A few quick taps on the hinge, and I've bent the corner of the offending piece of metal back into shape. Sliding the hammer back into my belt, I stand up with a groan and the popping of my back, and open the door without any protest from the hinge. I pick up the belt, buckle it back on, and take a sip of my tea while the little old woman giggles with glee. \"Why thank you, deary! I've had an entire batch of dough for my cookies sitting in the fridge for three days! Would you like to stay and chat while I bake some for us?\"\n\"I'm sorry Ms Lenny, but I should move on to the next job now. I appreciate the hospitality, though.\" \n\"Why of course young man, thank you once again.\"\n\nI walk at an abismally slow pace to keep from rushing ahead of her to the door, and I step outside as she hands me a 20 dollar bill for the ten minutes I was at her house. We say goodbye, and I head back to my truck, that cursed hammer thumping against my side. Whoever this Hank guy was, he sure had a lame life. ", "\"The power of Hank?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know. It's ridiculous. But that's what it says.\"\n\nI traced my finger over the runes that spiraled about the hammer's metal head, and looked over at Sarah. She was giving me a look that asked me to stop playing games with her. God knows, I've seen that look too many times.\n\n\"I'm serious, sis.\"\n\nI was serious. I had pored over the most relevant codices and texts for hours, not only trying to parse the unique runes that were engraved on the hammer, but also to try and discover the mysterious origins of this hammer I held in my hand.\n\nWe had thought it was the legendary Mjolnir, of course. What a dream that would have been. The holy grail of Norse historians and spiritualists the world over. The power of thunder and lightning in a human hand. The fury of a storm in a mortal palm.\n\n\"Hank?\" Sarah said again, with the same wince on her face.\n\n\"Hank,\" I said, although it didn't help.\n\nSarah sighed, and leaned back against the lab desk.\n\n\"So,\" she said. \"What's the power of Hank? Selling propane?\"\n\nI laughed, and she laughed with me. The absurdity of the situation shot through us like an arrow, a fatal blow to all the earnestness we had when we embarked on this quest years ago.\n\n\"Hank,\" I said, through my fit of giggles.\n\n\"Hank!\" laughed Sarah.\n\nI held the hammer high above me, and proclaimed in my best Heman impersonation: \"By the power of Hank!\"\n\nWe were still laughing then. But we stopped when the portal appeared.\n\nThe creature that came out didn't seem fully human. More like the distant memory of a human, clothed in a strange shadowy armour that looked like nothing I have ever seen.\n\nThe figure strode up to me and glared down at me, a full eight feet in height. It grabbed my jaw with its left hand.\n\n\"Mmf?\" I asked.\n\nThe figure growled and snatched the hammer from me and leapt back through the portal, which shrunk to the size of a pea and vanished.\n\nSarah and I looked at each other in confusion.\n\n\"What the -\" she began.\n\n\"Sarah,\" I said, still shaking. \"I think that was Hank.\"" ]	2
	[WP] The pen truly is mightier than the sword and you're a travelling pen salesman in medieval Europe.	[ "\"Magical ink!\" shouted Page. \"Get your magical ink here!\"\n\nIt was a beautiful afternoon in Brandenburg. The sun was shining on the little houses, and there were great big crows perched on the rooftops. Page paused to gaze at them. One had a colorful plume of feathers instead of a wing. Somebody around here was messing with magic.\n\n\"The ink of God Himself!\" Page yelled. \"Learn a spell today!\"\n\nSlowly the children in the marketplace began to trickle down to Page. The first one was a young boy who looked about 13.\n\n\"Hello, little boy!\" Page smiled. \"Would you like a pen?\" Page always had a soft spot for the Kinder of Brandenburg. They were so innocent and sweet-- and hospitable too. Page wanted to repay the kindness, and gave kids a free pen absolutely free.\n\n\"Wow!\" The boy was staring in awe. He had probably never seen a magical pen. \"How do I cast a spell?\"\n\n\"I'll show you,\" Page replied, taking out a piece of parchment. \"Write this down: Sanctus dominus...\"\n\nThe boy was writing furiously. Quite frankly, Page was surprised he knew how to read. \"What now?\" he cried.\n\n\"Now you write down your true name. Not your nickname,\" he added, seeing the boy write \"Jens\". \"The name you were given. Don't worry, I won't look.\"\n\nThe boy finished writing. His Arcane Latin was practically illegible, but it would do.\n\n\"Now put the final period,\" Page smirked, \"and brace yourself.\"\n\nThe little German boy added the final dot to the page. Immediately he was lifted about six inches off the ground by an invisible force.\n\nPage smiled as he saw the boy's face, amazed at the distance between his feet and the ground. He scribbled furiously, obscuring the words, and the boy returned to solid ground.\n\n\"Keep this now,\" Page said, \"and don't tell strangers your true name!\"\n\nAs the little boy ran off, a smile crept on Page's face. It was easy to abuse magic, or use it to win wars. But the best thing in Page's life was little prestigitations like levitation. It made people so happy. With that he walked off, ready to peddle more magical ink-- and possibly more joy. It didn't make much of a profit, but it was better than serfdom and too much fun to give up.\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are an imaginary friend of a serial killer. The person is contemplating another murder, and much to your disbelief, the next victim is you.	[ "\"Jeff, this doesn't have to end this way.\"\n\nJeff. Poor Jeff. I really felt sorry for him; whatever bond we shared was utterly broken by Riley. She told him how he should cut out anyone who plagues his life. His friendship with me was as broken as Riley was, while she rotted at the bottom of the sinkhole. I tried to talk him out of this, but I suppose I deserve it. He, after all, formed me to console him and at least have someone to talk to, but I failed there. I failed him. I don't think it would matter any more. She betrayed him, like his foster parents. She plagued his life; she had to go, but didn't want to because she couldn't see herself as a blight upon Jeff's life. Jeff's lead knife convinced her body otherwise, but her mind was still there.\n\nHis life was misery. Broken home, narcissistic abusive parents; when they were caught by protective services while ironing his foot while he was strapped to his bed, his situation didn't improve. Foster homes ruined what was left of him, any semblance of a person. He loved to learn, and now, he learned to hate. He learned to kill.\n\nHe was a sweet little boy, and now, he was bitter. His love was turned to hate, an endearing hate for everything. I consoled him through life, through everything; my job was to keep him going and to at least learn that life wasn't a hellhound out to get him. His parents were meant to protect him; I learned to protect his mind to keep him sane. I couldn't fix his scars; I was too late by then.\n\nHis parents were the first names on the list. A twelve hour trip from here to there and back. Two minutes to end them; they lived in the same filthy home. It reflected their characters perfectly; Detroit's neighborhoods were bound to snap anyone.\n\nHe left no evidence that it was ever him; he rented a car with a fake ID. Peter Friezenberg left his Illinois State University dormitory at 23:54. I followed him; he was a stranger to me then. He got in his car, drove to Detroit; I always wanted to see if the city was as bad as it was considered. He took me through the city. I knew what he was going to do.\n\nHis meth-addled neighborhood was a wreck. Syringes everywhere, paper, litter, rot.\n\nWhen the embers cooled, the two DNA donors to Jeffrey Stanton were never found. The house was gone; nobody called 911. He found them in a stupor, still managing to live after all these years of ravaging themselves for pleasure. They didn't do anything when Peter lit a match and dropped it upstairs. He ran down as fast as he could. We both knew how quickly the house would burn. It was a meth-addled neighborhood, after all.\n\nWhen we came back, Peter returned the car to the agency and paid the rest of the money. The dorm room smelled a little bit when we came back; his roommate was smoking a blunt.\n\nHis roommate was now smoking, the smell of pork in the air as Peter's kind donation to keeping up a hobo's barrel fire was working. At least Peter had the decency to tell the hobo to not eat the fuel.\n\nPeter burned his ID card; Jeff tossed out the ashes. Jeff loved smelting. He made knives from lead and sharpened them. They were soft and he could turn them into cleaner knives when he was done. His lead lined pan and heat resistant molds helped him. At least he killed people doing what he loved.\n\nHis former foster homes in Normal were crossed out one by one; first was the hag Selena Daarmsteidt, the one who loved to put cigarettes out on his ribs. He didn't use knives this time; her home's gas stove malfunctioned the moment she turned it on. He left no footprints by the time all the windows shattered from the blast.\n\nA family that was fostering children was found the next week twisted and contorted into horrifying letters that spelled out HATE; since there were four letters, the husband and wife were each found cut vertically in half with alarming precision. The children were found huddled in the basement by the social services worker that walked in after threatening to break down the door if the request to enter was not honored, as per protocol. The children were fine; they were scared, but not mistreated by whoever butchered the foster parents. The door to the basement was open; \"THEY ARE SAFE\" was written in blood on the door, and the children behind it were fed; a large supply of fast-food was found in the fridge in the back; it was dragged from the kitchen to the basement by someone, but the someone was the murderer. They had enough food to last two weeks, assuming all five children ate cold burgers and fries three times a day.\n\nThe next fifteen homes were found with their occupants cut into words that screamed \"FARCE,\" \"FAKE,\" \"PAIN,\" and \"ABUSE.\"\n\nTen of the homes still fostered children; they were all found in the homes' basements with refrigerators stocked with food. Alive. Their foster parents were not as fortunate.\n\nJeff turned from Peter to Jeff, then to Samuel, then to Jeremiah. His names murdered. He alone was able to switch back.\n\nI was scared. He couldn't kill me. I had his back for years, but what had I really done to protect him? To console him? I was a flying angel with a tiger tail; I couldn't do much with anything anywhere.\n\n\"Jeff. I helped you, please.\"\n\nHe was angry. The sweet little boy was dead, and now, this unshaven man filled with hate screamed at me with disgust in his tone. How I failed to do anything to protect him. He was bitter, he cried. Tears fell into the ashes of another ID card in the ashtray on his table in the kitchen of his Illinois State University dormitory. His time was up, the jig was up; Jeff's names betrayed him. It took years to figure out. It took terror to find its way into the system that took him from meth addicts and put him into the monsters' hands. \n\nHe was done; all who plagued his life were gone. I plagued his life still; I had to go.\n\nI could see inside his head; I was there all the time, seen by him, felt by him. I watched him degenerate into a pile of hate.\n\nI suppose I failed. I suppose I could foresee myself put into the shadow of a better piece of imagination. In the end, I can't stop Jeff from conjuring a knife in his head. It's what he is doing; while it wobbles in his hand from not being stable enough, it can still pierce me.\n\nI can't make sounds, but his mind is riddled with my screaming." ]	1
	[WP] "I'm broken. Fix me?" "I can't"	[ "I checked the short range scanner. No signs of life, and the readings didn't indicate much of use in this scrapyard. Not that I needed the scanner to figure that out. This scrap was mostly heavy duty mechanical equipment, or what was left of it. A proper scavenger crew with vehicles could make some use of it, but not a loner like me. Pity, some of it seemed in good condition too. I had taken some time to pry some gears from a transmission of some kind I'd stumbled upon yesterday. Good gears are hard to find, so I suppose it wasn't a total loss, but not half as productive as I would have liked. I switched the scanner to long range. I was still within my \"safe distance\" to the nearest town, meaning I could get back before food or fuel ran out. Food. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, but I didn't care. Condensed nutrient supplements took care of basic dietary needs, but were anything but filling. They weren't meant to be; they only needed to be lightweight and able to sustain a human. You got used to the perpetual hunger after a while. I looked back at the scanner. There was a nearby scrapheap, and, judging by the electromagnetic readings, probably abundant in electronics. I squinted, and could see it through the haze in the distance. It had the blurry outline indicating small components, perfect for a small timer like me. I marked the location, and noticed a problem. That would take me right to the edge of my safe distance. Not the comfortable area of it, the high risk band near the edge. I could probably get back, but it would be tight. I sighed. No, I couldn't pass up this opportunity. I hopped on my ATV, some sort of personal vehicle I had modified by adding treads to, and set out towards the pile.\n\nPeople say a lot of bad things about scavengers like me, such as \"they will steal anything that isn't nailed down.\" That is not true. First, we always carry tools, so whether something is nailed down or not is a non-issue. We can pry it loose. Second, we don't steal. There is an unspoken agreement between townsfolk and scavengers: they don't set up their homes in junkyards and scrapheaps, we don't use their towns for spare parts. The scrapyards are neutral territory, and anything in them is free for the taking, assuming you find anything useful. Scavengers like me travel from place to place, and don't like being tied down. For us, life is an eternal search for new parts to use, driven by curiosity and wanderlust, our actions governed by the Code of Salvage. We depend on the towns for traveling supplies, and they rely on us for new gadgets and repairs.\n\nIt took me less time than I had estimated to get to the new scrapheap, as a result of the terrain being far more easy to traverse than I had anticipated. This was a relief, as it meant my return trip would be faster and easier, so I didn't have to worry about being so close to the edge of my safe distance. It was still light out, so I started right away. I switched the scanner to short range. No life, a good start. As much as I enjoyed meeting other scavengers, some preferred negotiated terms to friendly cooperation, and I didn't feel like wasting time sorting out who gets what. As for parts, the short range scanner was going crazy. My hunch was right, electronics galore. Unfortunately, this meant the scanner would do me little good, so I was going in the old fashioned way. I set the locks and safeties on the ATV, and waded into the scrap.\n\nI was a good ways into it when I felt something around my leg, gently grasping it. At first I thought I had gotten a cable wrapped around my ankle, but when I looked down, I saw an android arm. I followed it with my gaze to a disc-shaped head protruding from a set of shoulders, a glowing arc around the front. It stared right at me, and I heard a crackling voice: \"I am broken. Fix me?\" This wasn't good. Androids and robots could be unpredictable, and I didn't want to get involved with one. Besides, the Code of Salvage states that all active robots, androids, and automatons are considered their own property until they are proven to not be self-aware. No good for scavenging. I tried to pull away, but the hand tightened around my ankle. It didn't hurt, but it was also unyielding. It spoke again, more clearly this time, \"I am broken. Fix me?\" \"I'm sorry. I don't even know what is wrong with you.\" I tried to pull away again. No luck. \"I am broken. Fix me?\" it repeated, and I swear I heard a pleading tone creep into its voice. I sighed, turned, and sat down. \"Alright, you keep repeating that, so I'll bet your speech circuit is busted for a start. Flash your lights once if that is correct,\" I said, in the most comforting tone I could muster. The lights flashed. Could have been another malfunction, but I had faith. \"Alright,\" I continued, \"Now, under the Code of Salvage, an engineer working on a sentient robot or android must first receive consent, same as a doctor working on a human. Flash your lights once if you would like me to continue, but before you do, know that I will need to open your cranial chassis. This may be dangerous. Is that alright?\" Again, they flashed, and, as if to confirm once more, the android gave me its looped speech message again.\n\nFinding the speech board was easy enough. \"Okay. I'm going to unplug what I THINK is your speech circuit. That should reset it, then I can plug it back in. I am confident that this is the right board, but I have been wrong before, and if I am this time, it could damage you. Flash once if you want me to go on.\" Again, the flash and the verbal message. I placed one hand over the claw on my ankle in what I hoped was a reassuring gesture, took deep breath, and pulled the plug. The lights didn't go off, so that was a start. Five seconds ticked by, though it felt like five hours. I plugged the board back in. \"Th-th-th-thank youuuuuu,\" came the stuttering voice of the robot. I sat back and breathed a sigh of relief. \"That was easy enough, don't mention it. Hold up, I think I may have jostled the connection to your speaker loose when I unplugged the speech board, you're getting some voice problems. Let me fix that.\" I took a second to check the connections, and found the offending wire. It took just a second to put right. The voice came, still crackly from the old speaker, but at least coherent now: \"You have done right by me human, and I thank you, but the repairs are not complete. I am broken. Fix me?\" I laughed and said, \"Well, I can't leave a job half finished. I have my pride as an engineer you know. Come on, take my hand and let's haul you up for a proper look.\"\n\nThe robot finally released my ankle, only to take my wrist as I had instructed. A few yanks and it was free. Or at least, what remained of it was. \"Poor thing,\" I whispered. The torso had been mostly blown away, and the propulsion mechanism, whether it had been tracks, wheels, or legs, was gone with it. Only one arm, the shoulders, and the head remained. This would be tricky, but I couldn't turn down a challenge. I rolled up my sleeves and said, \"Okay, buddy, the prognosis isn't great. If you haven't figured this out yet, your torso is mostly gone. You're little more than an arm and a head. Lucky thing human engineers liked playing god and modeled androids after themselves, or the seat of reason wouldn't have been in the head, eh? I'll need a closer look at your circuits. Mind if I go on?\" \"You have my permission,\" he replied, then, \"I am broken. Fix me?\" I shook my head and smiled.\n\nContinued in Comments", "\"I'm broken. Fix me?\"\n\nI looked into his sad, tired eyes, trying to find something - anything - positive to say. The words failed me. After a moment, I simply said, \"I can't.\"\n\n\"But you're one of the best surgeons in the world!\" he yelled. \"There must be something you can do! Anything! Please, I'm begging you! I'll give you everything I own, if you'll just fix me!\"\n\nTears started to well in my eyes as I once again said, \"I can't. Trust me, I'd do anything in my power to make you better, but it's beyond me. I don't have the power.\"\n\nHe stared back at me, tears in his eyes as well.\n\nKnock-Knock-Knock\n\n\"You okay in there, Doc? The patient is prepped; it's up to you now.\"\n\n\"I'll be right out\", I answered. I quickly washed my face, drying my eyes on the towel. \"You know what I hate?\", I asked him. \"People think we doctors have all the answers, that we can fix anything if we just try one. more. thing.\"\n\nI took one more look at my reflection in the mirror, then left the bathroom.", "The air was still and cold. The whiteness of the walls matched the color of the sheets on the bed. The deafening silence was only interrupted by the continual beeping of machinery. James was getting tired of this place, but dreaded the thought of leaving it. \n\n\"Why are we here, again?\" Her blue eyes were filled with innocence and her hair was blonde. She didn't understand what was happening. How could she? She was just a child, after all.\n\n\"Emily...\" James stopped himself. He wasn't prepared to say what needed to be said. Not because he didn't think she could handle it. She was stronger than he would ever be. The words just were not real as long as they were left unsaid.\n\nHe continued. \"Something's happened. You haven't been feeling well because you're sick. I know I told you it was the flu, but...\"\n\nThey locked eyes. James' began to water.\n\n\"Sweetie, it wasn't the flu. We...we don't know how to make you feel better.\"\n\nShe began to speak. Her voice was trembling.\n\n\"I'm broken. Fix me?\"\n\nJames looked away at one of the white walls. A tear dripped down his right cheek.\n\n\"I can't\"" ]	3
	[WP] no one ever strays from the border. What lies beyond is unknown. Until you decide to risk going there on your own. You return weak and shaken. People surround you asking what you've seen and done.	[ "\"I saw a demon, he has two heads, and he has a tail, and he is colored red\", I managed to get through cracked lips. \"Son we shall bring you to the town elder, go everyone! Gather all the towns folk\". It felt safe in here. This place was my home, a walled community, I liked it here very much. My mother comes to me hospital bed, \"what's wrong, has the demon impaired your speech?\", my mother tried to put a strong face on, I saw through it. The next morning we went to the elder, he was a nice man, I explained the powers to him and the town guard. \"NO! BACK AWAY FROM HIM\", a person came through the wall, desperate and crying, he looked like me, I smiled at him, I told the elder, \"The demon also has the power to copy the appearance of any creature", "There's really not much to see past the wire; just scrub grass and the occasional boulder, and then the land disappears into the mist. We - Martinez, Jackson and myself - had been manning the wire for several days. Our orders were clear; don't cross the wire, and don't let anyone or anything cross back. To the best of our knowledge, no one had ever crossed the wire, and nothing had ever tried to cross back. It was one of those assignments they give to the screw-ups, but we didn't care. It was easy duty, and after 9 months of deployment and coming under fire almost daily from the insurgents, we were more than happy to get away from the fighting. A fews hours before being assigned to the wire, we had survived a close call with an IED. We were beaten up a bit, some cuts, bruises and sore muscles, but otherwise okay. Yeah, we were all a bit fuzzy-headed, but we were straight when we got to the wire.\n\nI thought I'd love the quiet, but after being keyed-up and on-edge for so long, it's nearly impossible to just chill and do nothing. Your mind plays tricks on you, like it's so silent because insurgents are closing in and all the birds and insects have gone quiet, anticipating the violence to come. It wasn't just me; Martinez and Jackson were also on edge, waiting for something to happen. By the end of the first week, we were ready to start fighting one another, just to break the monotony.\n\nThe morning of the 8th day, I had made my decision. \"Look, guys, I'm tired of this shit. We're sitting here, losing our edge. We go back into combat, we're gonna get greased.\"\n\n\"So, whatta got in mind, Smitty?\", Martinez asked? \"I'm thinking about hoppin' this damn wire and seeing what's over the horizon\", I said. They looked at me like I was crazy. \"Dude, we got orders! You go over and they find you gone - you're lookin' at losing some stripes at the minimum, or even some time in the stockade when you get back!\"\n\n\"Marty's right, Smit.\" said Jackson. \"I hear you about losing our edge, but I'd rather sit tight. If you wanna go, do it while we're asleep so we don't catch heat for not stopping you.\"\n\nI went at oh-dark-thirty the next morning.\n\nThe hike wasn't tough; the scrub was only about halfway up my shin, and all that time we'd been humpin' hundred-pound rucks on patrol had made my legs strong. By the time the sun came up, the wire was far behind and out of sight. I had my Camelbak and a small ruck with me; I planned no more than a day's hike from the wire. If I didn't see anything by then, I'd head back.\n\nI took a break in the afternoon, and managed a short nap. In combat, you get good going to sleep fast, waking up fast, and being able to sleep just about anywhere. The scrub made a nice mattress, my ruck a nice pillow.\n\nI headed back out in the late afternoon, and kept going until the sun was well below the horizon. I wasn't about to light a campfire; you don't make your presence known when you're in Indian country. I had some chow, then decided to go to sleep. I drank most of my remaining water;in a few hours the urge to pee would wake me up, and then I'd start back while it was still dark.\n\nThe need to pee did wake me as expected, but I didn't expect to see a few lights in the distance! So, there were bad guys out here! None of our guys had ever been this far past the wire; I wondered why none of the bad guys had attempted to reach our line, but that thought quickly left my mind as I focused on the enemy.\n\nI could make out 2 soldiers through a light mist, but nothing really distinct about them; just shapes sitting around a small fire. \"Damn\", I thought. \"Someone needs to teach them basic combat skills!\" They were too far away to hear - the mist tends to suck up noise - but I thought I might be able to get one with my rifle. I had the suppressed M-14, as I was the Designated Sharpshooter for our unit; Marty and Jackson had standard-issue M-4 carbines. I was confident I could drop one of the mooks with my first shot; if I was lucky, the other would be caught by surprise and just stand there, allowing me time to draw a bead and get a second shot. They might not be kill shots, but I'd put some hurt on them. The suppressor would make it difficult for them to know where the shot came from.\n\nI got into the prone position and laid my rifle across my pack, using it as a gun rest. I took aim, then let the first round fly. I didn't get a chance to fire the second.\n\nThe mook I was aiming at went down, and his buddy reacted a lot faster than I expected. \"So, seems these guys have seen some actions as well\", I thought. They were hunkered down, beating out the fire. I saw one rise a bit, than - WHAP!- to my right, followed almost immediately by the crack of a rifle! \"Son of a bitch!\", I thought. They were shooting back, and they were hittin' pretty damn close! I crawled away from them, zig-zagging as I went, making random left- and right turns every twenty yards or so. Being predictable gets you killed.\n\nI didn't get killed, but I did get shot. Just a flesh wound, a mild graze on the thigh, but it was enough to scare the shit out of me. Any worse, and I'd have been stuck out there in No-Man's-Land with no chance of rescue and not much in the way of first aid in my day ruck.\n\nBy sunrise, I was miles away from the scene, and the wound was hurting like a bitch. I stopped for a few minutes to get something to eat, drank the rest of my water, then beat feet back to my guys.\n\nNear sunset, I finally made out the silhouettes of Martinez and Jackson. They weren't slacking off, as I expected; instead, they were sweeping their sectors, looking for insurgents. What was odd was that they were also looking behind them. That got me worried; had an officer come along to check on us? How would they explain my absence? This was not good.\n\n\"Martinez! Jackson! It's me!\" I yelled. \"Hold your fire!\" I could see they still had their rifles up, but they weren't taking aim. I stood up, my own rifle high in the air. I reached the wire in short order and climbed over.\n\n\"What the hell, guys! Why are you on edge? Someone come by?\" Martinez just kept sweeping the area, looking for targets, while Jackson seemed to just slump down. \"What wrong with you?\" I asked. \"Oh, man\" said Jackson, \"you ain't gonna believe this, but I got shot! Asshole came up from behind us last night, if you can believe that! Must have crossed the wire a mile down, then circled around our flank.\" Jackson pointed to a bandage on his upper arm. \"Lucky for me, it went clean through. Me and Martinez were able to return fire on the dude! I think I even hit him! The mook was using our own zig-zag pattern to try and evade our fire, but I figured out the pattern pretty quickly.\" That's when Jackson saw my thigh wound and his face clouded over. \"How did you get shot, man? You run into some shit or something?\"\n\nMartinez had crouched down beside us, his eyes going to Jackson then back to me. \"Nah, man, this ain't right. No one comes over the wire! No one's ever come over the wire! I can't believe some mook would suddenly find the initiative to sneak over and try to whack us from our rear! Something's really wrong here!\"\n\nJackson looked at me, then to Martinez. \"Are you saying Smitty here, a highly-trained soldier, a combat vet, went over the wire, got lost, circled around behind us and shot me? That we shot him? That don't make sense! Smitty woulda had to circle back over the wire, then make his approach back to us! We saw him a long way off! He walked straight at us, from the same direction he had gone!\"\n\n\"Well, I sure as hell didn't cross any damn wire twice in the same night!\" I said. \"Nah\", Martinez said. \"I'm sure you didn't. By the way, how do your wounds feel? They hurt much?\"\n\n\"Not at all\", I said. \"Me neither\", said Jackson. \"How do you feel overall? Any effects from that IED?\" he asked.\n\nNone of us said anything; it seemed to dawn on each of us at the same time. We checked for cuts and bruises from the IED, but found nothing; everything was completely healed. We'd been at the wire for a week, with no support. No one had come to check on us. Jackson and I each removed our bandage; neither of us had a gunshot wound.\n\n\"Ya know, guys\", Martinez said, \"back in the Civil War, General William Tecumseh Sherman was quoted as saying 'War is Hell' \".\n\n\"You wanna know what I think? Maybe Sherman got that wrong. Maybe Hell is war....\"" ]	2
	[WP] You start driving down a stretch of highway known for not having any radio or phone signal. That's when your radio turns itself on and man calling himself the DJ starts speaking.	[ "AS I turn onto the 50, I start to breathe differently. A little thing that you wouldn't notice if you had other things on your mind, which apparently I don't, because I notice. I feel expansive, free, a kite without a tether that somehow doesn't plummet into a nosedive. At the same time I feel tiny, I imagine a view of myself, a drone or a bird taking off from the top of my van and flying up, up and up until my van is just a moving white speck in the middle of all this sage brush and dirt of a non-descript color.\n\nIt's not my first time on the 50, with no plan and no deadline, plenty of water and food. Last time I came I pulled off on a small dirt road and woke up at sunrise surrounded by wild horses. I got out and walked among them, the largest eyeing me and pacing, snorting, letting me know I was on his radar, and me trying to let him know that I was no threat.\n\nThis time I'm prepared to stay even longer. My text messages have been sent, one to my mom telling her not to worry, I would be beyond the reach of phone service for a week or more, and another to my friend Jeremy, telling him what to do if I disappeared entirely. Email passwords and the like. Mom will worry anyways. I'm a woman traveling alone, not young, exactly, but young enough that someone inclined to rape would still likely be inspired to do so. Funny that it's not robbery that worries me, or a blown tire or thrashed engine, but rape, always rape, the bogeyman that follows me around, the enemy that, in a way, probably makes me more stubborn in pursuing my adventures.\n\nI consider throwing on a podcast, but as my van swims through that beautiful light that comes before sunset, my dog snoring softly in the seat beside me, I decide on silence. I've downloaded plenty of podcasts and there will be time for that later. For now, I just want to follow my thoughts wherever they run, laying down track in front of them as they race around a landscape in full bloom.\n\nI decided on silence, but the radio burst with static and slid into voice. I reach out and turned the nob left, but there was no change in volume. It's an old van. Weird that the volume nob would choose to go out now, weird that the radio is on at all. I certainly didn't turn it on, but figure I'd left it on and it stayed silent because there was no signal to pick up. Apparently I'd driven into a pocket of signal. I try the nob again, then punch other buttons. AM. CD. Cassette (I told you the van was old.) but it appears the entire audio control panel has gone out. A broken wire, a blown fuse? I flip on the headlights. The panel still lights up. I don't know anything about the electricity at play in vehicles. Ah well. I decided on silence but the van has other plans.\n\nI drive on. The DJ (who simply calls himself \"The DJ\") has a somewhat grating voice. I've reached for the volume nob again and again, funny how we do things so automatically, muscle memory kicking in as soon as I register discomfort in my ears. I roll down the window to try to dissipate the sound. My mind wanders to an ex who, while rather handsome, always said he had a face for radio. Well, this guy has a voice for...well, what? What was the equivalent of a face for radio?\n\n\"A voice for a Charlie Chaplin movie?\" offered the DJ, and I laughed at the coincidence. Then I tuned in to figure out what he was talking about.\n\n\"Anyways, so what you'll do, if I know you, and I do, is you'll find a little road with a rise in it, and you'll drive over that rise, so that anyone driving on the 50 won't be able to see your van, not that anyone should be driving along the 50 tonight...\"\n\nI spend a lot of time alone. That scene in Castaway when Hanks starts talking to the volleyball? I get it. Man (and woman) is a social animal. As such, when there's nothing else around to socialize with...well, we invent things. It's part of the reason I have my dog. My lifestyle, while delicious to me, is not natural. And there are side effects. I recognize that. So i start telling myself stories about this DJ and why he's saying the things he's saying. 'Wow. Thought I was original but apparently the local radio station personality knows about people like me, our plans and proclivities.' This is what I say to myself, even as the panic rises in my chest.\n\n\"...but you know,\" he's saying, \"fear is our friend. Fear is what tells us to do, or not to do something. Fear is why our species and so many other species, dogs, for example, have lasted so long on this land...\"\n\nand that's when my dog answers him, with a low, gutteral growl deep inside her chest. She stands up, straining at her harness which is locked into the seatbelt. She stares, not at the radio panel or at the speakers but out the front windshield, as if the danger is there, ahead of us.\n\n\"...but remember, what you fear, you create...\"\n\nThere's a part of me that wants to rebut this guy, a part of me that wants to ignore him and hte fear rising in my chest out of sheer obstinacy. But now my dog is barking, straining at the windshield, snapping her teeth. I slow down and reach for her and she nearly bites me, then looks at me with horror, realizing she'd almost bit me.\n\n\"Ok, baby, ok,\" I say, \"Ok, ok, we'll turn around,\" as if it's my dog's idea. As if, if this DJ can see me, he'll know I'm responding to the dog, not to him, not to my own fear.\n\n\"What?\" says the DJ as I slow, and for one soul-crunching, sickening moment, I think the voice is coming from the back of the van, \"you think turning around will save you?\"\n\n\"Fuck off!\" I say, and he responds immediately.\n\n\"Honey, i can't actually hear you. That's not how it works. This is one way communication. This is rhetorical.\"\n\n\"So you can see me?\" I shout.\n\nI start using sign language, the finger spelling my best friend Holly and I used to do to communicate in class in the 3rd grade. I'm gesticulating wildly, and I know I look ugly, angry.\n\n\"I can't see you either,\" says the DJ, and I return my attention to the turn. It's a narrow road so I'll have to Austin Powers my way back into the other direction.\n\n\"But what's that way,\" asks the DJ, \"You think that's the direction where salvation lay? You know what's that way. Miles and Miles of empty highway. Not a town for hours. And how would you even know the town is safe? What if I'm just urging you that direction so that the people there can hurt you?\"\n\nIt's actually hard to understand his words over my dog's barking. I pull forward, turning the wheel, then reverse, the pull forward, then reverse, and my back tires nestle themselves into a gentle little dip. The side of the road. Not a ditch really. A wash. Not steep. \n\n\"Not enough to get stuck?\" says the DJ, and I shift into drive and my tires spin uselessly.\n\n\"You see,\" he's saying, \"life is but a pinprick in the everlasting consciousness of eternity, an imponderable spark in the destitution of space...\"\n\nI'm grabbing my knife, my tazer and my pepper spray, I'm pushing past my lunging dog, I'm crawling into the back of the van, which has been ransacked. Everything I'd packed so neatly, creating a haphazard obstacle course on the floor. I close my eyes, just for a moment, and when I open them, everything is back in its place. So I ransack it. I search the van, top to bottom, my dog's screaming ringing in my ears, the DJ's voice progressing toward frenzy, echoing throughout the van, coming from no where and everywhere.\n\nThere's nothing in the back. All the doors are locked. The van, the inside of the van is secure, in every way that counts except for auditorily.\n\n\"You think sound can't HUUUUURT YOU?\" he's shouting, and on the last note, the YOU, it's so loud that I tumble into fetal position, hands pressed against my ears. When the pain subsides I look up at my dog, who's still barking. So I'm deaf, I think. I sit up, shimmy myself up so my back is against a cupboard, reach out and unhook my dog and pull her shivering into my lap. She's stopped her barking.\n\n\"You're not deaf,\" says his voice, soothing now, \"come on, it's ok, let it out. I want to see you cry. Crying feels so good. This is a safe space.\"\n\nMy dog is barking again, straining toward my face, mouth opening and closing, but I can't hear her. She's licking me, but I can't feel it.\n\n\"you can hear only me,\" says the DJ, soothingly, \"you can feel only me.\"\n\nI leap up and open the van door. His voice is still there but so is the crunch of the gravel beneath my feet. My hearing is back.\n\nI run around the back of the van to find the back tires are indeed 5 inches deep in sand, unable to get purchase, and somehow my front left tire is 2 or 3 inches off the ground. I open the driver's side door and turn the key off. I pop the hood, run around and disconnect the battery. The voice continues. But it's clearly, clearly coming from the van.\n\nI click on my dog's leash and start hiking up a hill, anxious to put as much distance between the voice and myself as possible. I crest the hill. I hear nothing but a slight whistle in the wind. I sit with my dog. She calms, I calm. The only problem is that no matter which way I turn, my back isn't covered. It's a terrible feeling. But sound, I guess, doesn't approach from behind. Sound envelopes you. If it's sound that terrorizes you, you have no cover. I hold my dog. The sun is setting. It's beauty too beautiful to be believed.\n", "It was a dark and stormy night. No, scratch that: it was an all encompassingly bleak and biblically treacherous night. That’s how it felt as I drove through the winding valleys. The wind howled and the rain lashed. Trees had been uprooted and cast aside. My Satnav was useless, haughtily informing me that I should be making a U-Turn, and my phone had been without signal for hours. The fuel light was creeping into the red. I knew my one, mad hope was to push on and hope, no, pray that I’d chance upon my destination.\n\nI had been awake for over three days. My eyelids were growing heavy. I wound down the window only to get blasted by hard spittle, so I quickly wound it up again. I knew I couldn’t pull over; for if I did the car might never start again. It was all so utterly, utterly hopeless.\n\nThat was when the radio turned itself on. The car filled with the screech of static. I fiddled around, punched AM and FM and OFF and VOLUME DOWN and…it was no use, nothing. It was like the radio was being controlled by someone or maybe even someth-\n\n“STEVE” boomed the radio “I AM THE DJ”\n\n“Did…did you just say my name” I told the dashboard.\n\nIt had become very clear to me now: I had lost it. I was going to die.\n\n“YES STEVE. HEED MY ADVICE AND YOU WILL LIVE”\n\n“Who…are you?”\n\n“I AM THE DJ. YOU KNOW THIS ALREADY.”\n\nI hit the brakes. The car screeched to a halt. I switched the engine off. This was getting too much. I needed to get out…\n\nThe doors locked.\n\n“NOW: LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE TIME…”\n\nI sat there, listening to the interminable, endless waffle of the DJ. I was overcome by both exhaustion and paranoia. The two mixed into a nightmarish concoction as I slowly, gradually, drifted off into an uneasy slumber.\n\nI woke up the next day feeling awful. I turned the key in the ignition and, amazingly, it worked! And the storm had ended! I checked my phone: 12 missed calls and single bar of signal. It looked like everything had worked out alright. I slid into first and drove away.\n\n“YOU COULD HAVE SAID THANK YOU”\n\nI screamed." ]	2
	[WP] Humanity is in it's final war, the war that will break the Earth. You're the God of War.	[ "Remnants of memories, that's all they were, the tower of Babel was no taller than the smallest of skyscrapers in New York city. The angels spoke of in Sodom and Gomorrah referred to a Aramaic death squad that numbered at least ten thousand strong. Their odd little outfits is what began that rumor, designed to look like griffins and the like.\n\nMatthew barely recalled these particular memories as if he had experienced them through the details of a theater. He had fought alongside Leonidas, whose story at the hot gates had prolonged it's test of time in large part thanks to Mathew himself. Much later he would be pitted against Spartacus in the Roman Arena, where he had to feign death as he often did in those situations. \n\nEven before that he had watched as the Khans rose to power, the red haired demon with green eyes razing the entire continent to just a handful of people. Matthew did not understand the idea at the time, as Genghis would often tell him that the underworld is man's creation on earth. 8 billion people later Matthew understood the digression of the human race has no off switch, they do not know how to regulate themselves...and sometimes they needed a hand.\n\nWhen Oppenheimer created the split of the atom, Mathew had hopes that he would be let out of the coil that was indestructible and never aged. Yet even of those memories he could faintly recall, how loud the countdown was as he sat next to the dummy in the vacant house. The blast had given him a mild itch.\n\nHe had lived in the deepest part of the ocean for the better part of three years the sensation was uncomfortably alien. The creatures he saw disturbed him.\n\nLike Genghis, Matthew had an obligation to purge the race to restore the balance, even the more he thought about it the more he realized that Khan had taken up his role for him. For if Matthew could not even be pierced, or die of hunger, or lack of oxygen certainly his role was optimistic of some den mother quality beyond his reasoning. \n\nThat is why he revealed his nature to the masses by detonating a small yield blast nuke in the center of LA. When he walked out the ashes the army must have fired some uncountable number of munitions into him each one bouncing and ricocheting back into those who fired. Humans were incorruptibly stupid, one had even ran up on Matthew and attempted to punch him, resulting in a shattered wrist as often was the case.\n\nThen more bombs fell and when the bombs did not work they tried to burn him, when the fire did not work they attempted to cage him unrelenting in the fact that he could not be contained. It took Matthew around three days to tear the six feet of steel away before the president finally met him outside the container.\n\n\"Good evening, uh...what should I call you?\" the president had asked him.\n\n\"My name is Matthew.\" he returned.\n\n\"What is it exactly that you want?\" the president's voice asked with a slight tremble.\n\nMatthew turned to the several camera men that were surrounding the president.\n\n\"My mission is to protect the Earth Goddess, your gluttony and greed has surpassed your temperament to control your ambitions. She has summoned me to purge your species to a reasonable number as she always has, I AM THE GOD OF WAR!!\" Matthew finished with an earth shattering roar and ripped the president's throat out with a single deft swipe which left his head dangling awkwardly before the rest of him collapsed. " ]	1
	[WP] You are Charon. Life used to be simple, rowing souls across the river Styx. That was, until Hell got some renovations...	[ "\"...Is this a Joke?\" asked Charon, his arms crossed and his head cocked in an aggressive manner.\n\n\"No! Haha, Char-char you're such a joker!\" the giggling slows as Hades' smile fades \"No...it's not a joke.\" He indignantly steps back, scratching the back of his skull as his other hand nervously plays with the disembodied eyeballs in his pocket.\n\n\"This is absolutely ridiculous...Have you completely lost your backbone?!\" Charon yells frustratedly.\n\n\"Nope! Still here!\" Hades spins around pointing at his exposed spine. \"Heheh!\" Charon grabs his shoulder and forcefully spins him around.\n\n\"You are having the demi-demons build a dam...in the river styx?..a river full of tormented souls?!\" Charon angrily paces as he picks at the scabs on his hands.\n\n\"Now, now Charon relax it's not a big deal. Plus, it's not my decision. It's not in my hands! Corporate is overriding all of my decisions!\" Hades apologizes. \n\n\"Who the HELL is corporate?! You realize. No, no THEY realize I've been here for EONS, right?! I've been working loyally, never gotten a point on my record. My entire career relies on the flow of the river!\" screams Charon.\n\n\"No! See, they have thought about that!\" Hades scurries over to Charon's side, placing a hand on his shoulder and guiding him to the cinder balcony overlooking the river. \"See that gap in the Dam? It's a-\" \"Tollbooth..\" \"A tollbooth! yes! Not all their decisions are so bad, eh Charon?\" he nudges Charon in the ribs. \n\nHades leans over the balcony, a fake smile on his face as tears well up in his empty eye sockets. \"Oh Lucifer!\" Hades falls to the ground sobbing. \"Charon! Charon help me! What am I supposed to do?!\" Pleads Hades as he clutches onto Charon's wispy robes. \"We're getting upscaled!...Upscaled by a new leader!\" He cries. \n\n\"Who?! Who is doing this? Who is corporate?!\" Charon demands as he pulls Hades by the collar to his feet.\n\n\"First...first it's a Dam\" gulps Hades. \n\n\"N-Next it will be a wall!\"\n\nCriticisms Welcome, /u/Mordit" ]	1
	[WP] Every time you sneeze, you change gender.	[ "I took a peak through the window to size up the party. As I'd expected from Phi-Mu-Lambda, it was a total sausage fest. The frat was unpopular as fuck among the ladies for reasons I did not give a shit about. This excursion was about one thing only: getting shit-faced. \n\nI pulled a small packet of black pepper from my pocket and snorted the contents. The sneeze was nearly instant and violent--but it had the desired effect. With a dick, no tits, and muscles I would find sexy on a guy, I could drink all night and not have to worry about some asshole coming on to me. Prepared to satisfy my senioritis-triggered alcoholism, I went around the corner to the front door and rang the bell.\n\nA pimply freshman opened the door, spilling Bass Nectar and the smell of weed into the night. I stepped in with a dumb smile and asked where the drinks were. The place stank of Axe, PBR, and weed--a funk almost as overpowering as the bass. They had plenty of beer and spirits, though, and my midterm paper was done, so I went for it. Hard.\n\nA few drinks later I could hardly walk straight and I knew I was slurring my words a bit, but fuck did it feel good. I somehow wound up in a group discussion about how many dates must be had before trying to fuck becomes acceptable. It was one of the perks of being able to turn into a guy: I could hear their unmitigated opinions on such things. \n\n\"Personally,\" I was saying, \"I think if you both feel it on the first date, that's fine. If not both of you, not fine.\" \n\n\"What about at a party?\" One of the guys asked. He was broad shouldered, stubbly--could've been a football player, if he weren't in Phi-Mu-Lambda. Exactly my type, and I felt my face heat up just a little. Or maybe that was the alcohol.\n\n\"Shit, as drunk as I am...\" I laughed. \n\n\"Here, come check this out,\" he said and grabbed my arm. I followed, all the way upstairs to a bedroom. Normally, this would have been a red flag--but I was a guy, so what was there to worry about? He closed the door and faced me with a surprisingly intense look on his face.\n\n\".... what?\" I asked. He started undoing his belt. \"Whoa!\" Now the alarm bells were working. \"Dude! Not gay,\" I said. \n\nWith a crooked grin, he said, \"as drunk as you are, right?\"", "Not going to lie, in our party, we have had our fair share of curses before. Temporal Paralysis here, fatigue there, even some of the crazier \"hip indie\" curses, like the ones where gold turns to ash in your hand, or you can only eat meat, but we may have gotten in over our heads this time.\n\nSo there we were achoo! there we were, heading through the dread forest of lost souls, as you do when you are on your way to the Vine-rock mountains of the far east, when we run across this funny looking gnome. Now don't achoo!, can I get a tissue? thanks. Now don't get me wrong, I don't hate gnomes, Gimli here is the most trustworthy man I know, but this guy just looked like trouble. I want you to imagine like, when you are at a circus and th-th-th-... Nah, im good. and the headmaster or whatever steps out right before the big eve-achoo! dammit. the big event. That guy but like 3 feet tall and that is this guy right, but he doesn't have the rest of his freaks with him, its just this guy. No offence Rackshaw, but even you have to admit your parents were freaks.\n\nSo anyways there is the four of us, Rackshaw with his daggers, Gimli with his short stature and fullplate, me with my spellbook, and Haggard with his waraxe. We are walking along and we see this guy right and... the whole time he is approaching us with his wagon of who knows what in toe, he is just giggling and staring us down. When we finally get any words outta the guy he says he is selling stuff. I don't trust him, but once the guy says \"rum\" Haggard is already this guys best friend. So we start drinking with him, he says something about some special offer, a magical drink that will give us whimsical powers. Being a complete idiot, Haggard downs the stuff before the guy is even done giving his speech. Haggard starts calling all of us sissy's for not drinking with him, and being a group of intoxicated men in our human equivalent of 20's, we join him and pass out almost immediately.\n\nWe wake up some hours later and it is long into the night. We set up camp and head to bed. As I fall asleep I sneeze and discover the first of our array of \"whimsical powers\" As it would turn out, when I sneezed, I changed genders. Not going into detail, as you can plainly see it has happened a few times already. Now if tha-tha-thachoo! yeah like that. Now if that wasn't enough I discovered Haggard's \"whimsical power\" later that night as well. Without going into detail for my own and Haggard's safety, lets just say he was inflicted with a fucking bizarre form of lycanthrope which causes affectionate feelings towards one member of the party at night time. Being as he was a barbarian and I was a wizard caught without my spell-book... I don't think I need to get into detail.\n\nOh and It gets worse still. What we found out is that these uncontrollable feelings only occur when it is night and I was a female. So I just needed to control my sneezes and we would be all set. Unfortunately for me, during our raid in a dungeon Vine-rock, I had to go for quite a swim, resulting in me getting a cold. I am just going to say, it was a LONG walk back through the woods.\n\nand if you think i-i-i-ACHOO! fuck. if you thin I got it bad? Tell that to Rackshaw. You know why he isn't here? He is caring for his young, because he laid a fucking egg. So yeah, we are kinda in need of a paladin and yes I am kicking myself for skipping the perfectly good scrolls of remove curse. If you have any potions of remove disease as well that would also be ACHOO! great.\n\n>Loosely based on a real D&D campaign." ]	2
	[WP] You have an app that tells you how many people you will talk to before the day ends. One day you wake up and the app reads "1".	[ "Work sucks, work blows, work depletes of energy, work saddens, work enrages, work tests the limits of one's patience, work makes one feel helpless, powerless and irrelevant, work angers immensely and, well, it sucks. So, as the Sunday started with the sweet promise of free time, you check Soĉio as a prediction of how much respite you are going to get. You don't want a high number because that can mean two things: you are going to get called to work orr your family drags you to yet another inane outing where people are going to ask you the same stupid questions. No, still no parftner, no, still no better job. 1? Great! You start your computer and start gaming. Only go online to one specific website and only in the evening. When the sun is already down, you have your first and only contact to another person: You greet the pizzaman, receive the hot and delicious wares, tip him and wish him a good shift. You end the day in front of your TV, happily eating pizza and watching an action film. Too bad tomorrow, you need to go to work again." ]	1
	[WP] Your a therapist and Satan's just turned up to your door.	[ "“Mr. El is here to see you.”\n\nMy receptionist’s voice woke me from my reading. You’d think being one of the top therapists in town I could hire someone with a more pleasant voice. But then again, you’d also think I’d be able to refuse taking on a client who insists on meeting only after hours. I guess some things are not meant to be changed, regardless of how much money you make in life.\n\nThe aforementioned Mr. El is, and there is no other way of putting it, a beautiful man. I don’t usually notice other males’ looks, but as he steps into my office, it’s difficult not to notice the striking jawline, the expressive dark eyes and the glowing, full blond hair. He’s wearing a suit, but you can tell by the way the fabric clings to him as he moves that there’s muscle under it. This guy could give Brad Pitt a run for his money. Heck, any movie star. At their prime. I snap out from my thoughts. Why am I paying so much attention to this guy’s physique? Maybe this is something I should discuss with my therapist.\n\n“Mr. El, I presume?” I recover to greet him just in time that it’s not too awkward. “Please, have a seat.”\n\n“You can call me… Sam.” He says. Was there a pause there? \n\n“Is the couch ok?” he asks, his voice is deep and very pleasant. For some reason I think that it’s the vocal equivalent of dark chocolate, melted and dripping, sweet and bitter and intoxicating. Again, I need to snap myself out of it. \n\n“Anywhere you like is fine.” I say. “Would you like a drink by any chance? Coffee, tea?” \n\n“Scotch please. No ice, just a dash of mineral water, if you would.” I’m not even aware that there’s any liquor in the practice, and I never allow patients to drink during sessions, but I find myself repeating his instructions to my receptionist, and ordering a cup of tea for myself. \n\n“So tell me why you’re here.” I tell the mysterious Mr. El. It’s my favorite way to open a session.\n\n“It’s my… job.” He answers. Again, a pause. Is this a speech impediment?\n\n“please, continue,” I urge him. I try to remember what his job his. Tina gave me his business card when she told me of the appointment, but I was too livid from the thought of having to stay over late, I didn’t really pay much attention to it. All I remember is that it was black, and had the name “Sam A. El” written in red on the front. \n\n“I’m… Assigned to this… what’s the word? Where you punish people?”\n\n“A prison?” I offer.\n\n“Sure. Let’s say that. I’m assigned there, but that’s only part of it, mostly, I would say that my job is taking the blame for everything.”\n\n“What do you mean?” I ask. I notice that he said all that without any pauses. Not a speech impediment, then. He’s choosing his words carefully. I make a note in my notebook. \n\n“It’s like… When someone does something wrong, they’ll say I made them do it. Sometimes people believe it, sometimes no, but it’s the oldest excuse in the book.”\n\n“And have you?” I ask.\n\n“What?”\n\n“Made them do it.” I clarify.\n\nJust in that moment, Tina chooses to come in with the drinks. She hands me my mug and then gave Sam his glass with the amber liquid in it. He thanks her and she giggles. giggles. That woman is incorrigible. I take a sip of my tea and spit it out almost immediately. It’s coffee. Again. I compose myself, not wanting to scream at Tina in front of a patient, and say to her. \n\n“Thank you, Tina, now please return to the reception so that we can continue this session in private” I emphasize the last two words, to let her know she’s unwelcomed. \n\n“No.” Mr. El says after she leaves. \n\n“No?” I ask, wondering what he means.\n\n“No. I never made them do anything. I’m a scapegoat. They are the ones who do wrong. They choose their own actions. They blame me because they can’t face the fact that they are the real demons.”\n\n“And how does that make you feel?” I ask. It’s a cliché of a question, but it usually works.\n\n“I’m sick of it. I’m not in charge of them. I don’t care what they do one way or the other. I just feel like I never get my side of the story told.”\n\n“So tell me,” I say, “I’m listening, what’s your side of the story?”\n\nHe seems taken aback by this. As if he never thought that someone might ever hear his side of the story. After a minute he says: “You know humans are a not perfect. They have ideas, urges. Somewhere down the line someone decided that following some of these urges is wrong, and so people try to keep up. They want to do so many things, but they are told it’s wrong. I say who cares? Those rules are just an illusion anyway. But for saying that the rules don’t matter, I get punished, and now whenever someone does something wrong, they say I made them do it. My name, my reputation, it’s all mired now by the very worst people you’d ever meet. Is that fair, I ask you?”\n\nI’m trying to deconstruct what he’s telling me. “Let me see if I get it right. You’re on the side that thinks that there should be no limitations to human actions, correct? Sounds to me that you’re a liberator by nature. Perhaps by blaming you, people say that they are just not ready to accept the type of liberty you offer. They lash out on you to make themselves feel better, yes, but that shouldn’t hurt your reputation. If anything, they’re promoting you. Telling the world how your way liberated them.”\n\nHe seems to take my word into consideration. “Liberator…” he mumbles under his breath. “I never thought of it like that. That does sound better. Thanks doc, I feel great!” He gets up to leave.\n\n“We still have time in the session,” I point out. \n\n“No need. You’ve made things much clearer.” He heads towards the door. \n\n“Won’t you like to schedule a follow-up?” I ask right before he leaves. \n\n“Oh, that won’t be necessary. I’ll see you pretty soon.” He says as he leaves the room. \n\nI find myself alone in the office, not quite sure of what just happened. I decide to go over my note as I do after every session. I call Tina and ask for another cup of tea. \n\nI sit down to read my notes. There’s not much to go on, but I try to understand what Sam has told me. Tina walks in with the tea, and leaves even before I manage to say “thanks”. I take a sip as I read my note again.\nIt’s coffee.\n\nThe cops come in an hour later. They won’t be able to do much for poor Tina. I smashed the pot over her head and poured hot tea down her stupid throat. When she protested, I smashed her head again. And again. It felt good to finally let go of my frustration. There’s quite a bit of blood in the office by the time the cops get here. I called them myself. I’m not worried that they’ll arrest me. After all, it wasn’t really my fault. \n\nThe Devil made me do it. \n" ]	1
	[WP] You are an undead patron of an ancient tomb. For hundreds of years you have waited for some unlucky adventurer to come wandering in so you might destroy them. One day, you hear a tapping sound from the tomb entrance and the words "House Keeping" reverberate through out the stone halls.	[ "Dear god, am I hungry. Until yesterday, it had been at least 700 years since the last unfortunate soul wandered into my crypt. (I still have that adventurer's bones hung up; boy, did he taste good.) Unfortunately, I am bound to my tomb. I cannot leave without someone undoing the sealing spells that accursed priest put on me. Maybe this is what I deserve for dabbling in the dark arts and accidentally turning myself into an ever-hungry, cannibalistic lich in my quest for immortality, but I digress. I am starving. \n\nTo be perfectly honest, though, I don't regret not eating yesterday's visitor. When you've been locked away in a three room tomb with only a bed, some ancient and cursed artifacts, and a few books you've read a million times for a millennium, you get lonely.\n\nThere I was, sitting and reading the first edition St Cuthbert Gospel once again (dear god, it was boring enough the first time), when I was interrupted by knocking on the heavy oaken door that marks the threshold I couldn't pass. \"Housekeeping!\" A voice called. \n\nHousekeeping?! I was baffled. Unsure what else to do, I called, \"It's open?\" I heard the door creak, and my stomach growled. My hunger, however, was temporarily overshadowed by curiosity. Who had the nerve to bust in here for housekeeping?\n\nI walked into the entry room and came face to face with a young woman wearing a peculiar outfit and pulling a large cart. She looked kind of bored. She adopted a more professional posture when she noticed me. \n\n\"Good afternoon,\" she said with a slight drawl. \"Roseville County Cleaners. You must be mister..\" She furrowed her brow. \"Missus? Watson.\" (To be perfectly honest, I'm not even sure my own gender anymore.) \"I thought you said you were going to be out, but, uhh, if it's not too much trouble, I can still clean now.\" \n\nShe waited a moment, seemingly expecting a response. I stuttered, \"Uh, sure?\"\n\nI followed this young woman around as she swept and scrubbed. Through casual conversation, I learned that her name was Rebecca, she was in community college (some sort of higher learning?), she had no father at home (then who took care of the family?), and that she was frustrated she couldn't keep her cats Muffins and Thor in her dorm room (apparently, at \"college\" they sleep in small rooms with one other stranger). \n\n\"I'll admit,\" Rebecca told me, dusting off the cursed globe that didn't seem to perturb her in the least, \"when I heard you lived on the basement floor of the apartment, this is not what I expected.\" The small statuette on my counter winked at her. She simply raised one eyebrow. \n\nWhen Rebecca had finished cleaning, my tomb looked better than it had since I'd first been sealed in it. The stone floor was sparkling, and the numerous dark curios on shelves had no more dust. \n\nThe cleaning girl told me the total would be $70, as she \"hadn't expected so much grime.\" Unsure what a dollar was (it must be some new form of money), I gave her three shimmering obsidian coins I knew to be worth at least two goats. She cocked an eyebrow and wished me well. For the first time in centuries, I got a peak out the door; apparently, some sort of building had been constructed around my crypt. \n\nBefore leaving, Rebecca turned back to me. \"Um, I forgot to ask, and my boss'll yell at me if I don't; would you like to sign up for triannual cleaning? Only $200 a year, includes deep cleaning.\"\n\n\"That sounds marvelous. You do accept gold coins for payment, don't you?\"\n\n\"Uhh, sure.\"\n\n\"Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you again.\"\n\nWith that, she left. But in a few months, I'll hopefully be seeing her again. I'm starving in here. But a little bit of company and a peek into the outside world is well worth the hunger. ", "Weni, the Immortal general of the North Kingdom, shuffled across the dusty floor of (what was supposed to be) his final resting place.\n\n'Glllk?!', The undead soldier let out a cry of surprise as he suddenly lost his balance and found himself flailing his arms around in a futile attempt to hold onto anything.\nAs he looked around to see just what could have caused his fall, he came face to face with Ahmes, his (equally undead) cat. \n\n'Mangy furball...' As he was about to berate his sole companion, he suddenly gave pause. That moment. In those split seconds - just then when his old bones had collapsed into a unceremonious mass of flailing limbs, he realized he had felt something he hasn't felt in millennia. Excitement. As if his unbeating heart had jumped to life again.\n\nHim tripping was something hardly noteworthy. Sure. But after countless years of the monotonous repertoire of dusting off his liege's Canopic Jars and patrolling the Great Pharaoh's Tomb, Weni realized he had desperately pined for anything outside of the norm.\n\n'If only I had known how long an eternity was...' Weni mused. He struggled to think back five thousand years in an attempt to remember how he ended up in this position in the first place. Even though he didn't have a brain, flashes of memories came back to him...\n\nA costly battle. \n\nA lost war. \n\nFall from grace - but then, a miraculous opportunity to redeem himself for his failures, to atone for his sins for 'an eternity' (as the chief priests had put it).\n\nYes. He remembered vividly now. Powerful dark incantations being invoked to stray him from his true rest in the House of Life, the dull, echoing chants of the priests turning his sleek, muscular body into... this mangled abomination.\n\nA loud shattering sound woke Weni from his reverie. As he looked around to investigate, he realized Ahmes chewing on something.\n\nOh Dear Horus.\n\n'AHMES NO!' Weni chased the cat away from (what was left of) Canopic Jars, but the cat darted off, with the king's liver in his mouth. The king's stomach, intestines, and lungs lay in a sorry heap next to the broken shards.\n\n'Okay. Okay. Calm down'. Weni thought to himself frantically. 'Okay. Hapi for Lungs, Duamutef for the Stomach, Imseti for the Liver...' \n\nAfter a minute of scooping up the gray, rotting organs, Weni realized it was useless. The Jars lay in broken pieces, and he was no craftsman - All he knew how to do was strike down any intruders into his liege's tomb. Apparently, the chief priests didn't count on a scenario like this.\n\nWeni hobbled into a corner and surveyed the mess. The damage to the tomb was extensive. He didn't even know where to begin cleaning up, let alone repair the damages.\n\nAs he was about to curl up and cry, suddenly, the lifeless walls of the tomb echoed.\n\n'Huh?' As he looked around in order to find a source of this tapping, He realized someone was tapping from the other side of the granite door which barred entry to the tomb.\n\nWeni quickly regained his composure. With a booming voice, he commanded:\n\n'WHAT FOOLISH MORTAL DARES TO DISTURB THE SLUMBER OF IMHOTEP THE FOURTH, THE GREAT KING OF THE NILE DELTAS?'\n\nA feeble yet audible voice answered back:\n\n'Housekeeping'\n\nAnd to his surprise, the granite doors parted of their own accord, to reveal an elderly, stocky woman. She immediately got to work, spraying and wiping the golden sarcophagus. As if by some miracle, the dull luster of the gold was quickly restored to its former glory, a symbol of the immense wealth and prestiege of the Egyptian Dynasty.\n\nWeni looked on, speechless, impressed by the woman's cleaning prowess, until she started to sweep up the organs and the shards of the Canopic Jars and shoveled them all into a bin.\n\nWeni ignited his pupils with a baleful green fire.\n\n'FOOLISH MORTAL, YOU DARE DEFILE THE SACRED ORGANS OF THE GREAT KING? LEAVE NOW WHILE I SO CHOOSE TO SPARE YOU!'\n\nThe woman, clearly unfazed, slowly turned to Weni and replied:\n\n'No... I stay... I clean...'\n\nWeni was thrown aback by this response. This ordinary human mortal, in face of the baleful demon-flame of Duarte, says WHAT?\n\nAnd to his surprise, the woman inched closer.\n\n'Mister Weni... We are out of Lemon Pledge.'\n\n", "I... am death.\n\nI AM death.\n\nI am death.\n\nI have exterminated nation. I have butchered heroes. I have hunted gods. All who have stood against me have fallen.\n\nWell, they will have, once I get out of here. Blasted saints, think they can seal me in here? This tomb is but a temporary setback, none cam stop me, for I am Death, I am the End, and I SHALL BURN THIS WOR-knock knock knock\n\nWhat? Is that... knocking? Who knocks on a tom-knock knock knock \"House keeping.\"\n\nHouse keeping? Tombs don't have house keeping. I may as well see who it is.\n\nYou know, I'm quite proud of my door. The only way I could be sealed was with great sacrifice. It took 50 souls, bound here until the end of time, to keep in here, plus the saint that did the sealing. There he is, bisected, petrified, and crucified in the middle. You know, he splits apart when you open the double d-knock knock knock I AM COMING\n\n\"Yes, who is it, what do you want?\" I call through the door.\n\n\"House keeping, I am here to clean your house.\" Right right, I forgot about that. Hmm, but I can't open the door myself. Perhaps...\n\n\"It is open, come right in.\" Yes, YES, this fool shall open the doors, removing the seal, and I shall be free once more!\n\nCreak Yes, it's opening, *yes!* I will be free and wreak havok Across The WORLD FOR I AM THE LICH MENDÛL'DRAK AND ALL WILL FEAR MY what is that infernal yellow contraption? Is it a pouch of some sort, on wheels? No, what is that long stick? A spear holster then? That's what it must be, yes?\n\nAs I ponder just what this little device could be, the small woman pushes her way inside. Well small for ME, I do stand 7 foot tall, plus the full foot I hover at almost all times. I am so taken with this contraption that I forget the door. BLAST, THE DOOR! Damn it's closed.\n\nThe woman, I notice she's getting on in her years, does not even look at me, she just goes about cleaning. Which is amazing, since the only light in here is the small Orb of Illumination floating in the center of the room.\n\nWait, she's removed the pole from the yellow thing. Is that a, a broom? No, it's all wet and soggy. Really, what good is a soggy broom? She continues to clean, moving throughout my crypt as she does. I must commend her work, she even got the dust out of my ancient Goblet of a Thousand Sorrows. I've used that thing to eat countless souls, far more than a thousand, I'll tell you that, so it's been magically bleeding ever since. I've cleaned it a thousand times and it has never looked as good as it does right now.\n\nWow, this place looks good. I don't leave footprints as I move, so I never noticed how dusty it is in here. Must be broken pieces of the regenerating stone that walls are made of. Any regular stone I could have disintegrated the minute they threw me in here. But now, now I can see my reflection in the obsidian floors. Ooh, is that what I look like from below? I need some new magic robes, this one is filthy, rotted. I mean, I may not have a heartbeat, but that is just disgusting.\n\nWell she finishes up, and I am left to just admire how nice my personal prison is. Wait wait, prison? RIGHT, the escape the plan! I rush to the front room, perhaps she hasn't left yet. No, nope, she's gone. Damn. Damn. *DAMN!!!!!", "\"Housekeeping!\"\n\nThere's a funny thing that happens to lips after a couple thousand years.\n\nYou ready for this? They fall off.\n\nGross, huh? Yeah, that's death for you. Or undeath, I guess. Except I never really understood that term, because I did die. I died, and then came back. So if I had to pick a word to use, I think I'd say re-death. Or post-death. Something like that. \n\nThen again, I've had no one to argue with over terminology for a couple thousand years, so forgive me for babbling on a bit. See, Tawhas was supposed to also resurrect, wander around with me inside the pyramid, but something must have gone wrong with the inscriptions, or she couldn't move the sarcophagus, so...\n\nWell, in any case, I've been alone for a while. So for most of my after-death existence, my lack of lips hasn't really been too much of an issue. I figured that, should some hapless grave robbers come bursting in, the unearthly moans that I now make would be more than enough to send them running away, screaming and pissing themselves.\n\nBut I wasn't exactly expecting a knock on the front door of my tomb. Or for someone to shout out, in what sounded like a very female voice, that word.\n\n\"Housekeeping?\" I'm not sure that this translation spell is working right.\n\nI stood in front of the door, trying to decide. Of course, when I say \"door,\" I really mean two-thousand-pound slab. It wasn't actually designed to open, my priests telling me that my soul would diffuse out through it, or sink into the earth, or fly into the sky, or something like that. Didn't quite work out, although it's nice in here. Lots of little toy soldiers and ships to play with.\n\nHousekeeping. The priests wrote a spell of translate-to-all-tongues on my mouth, but it fell off with my lips. Was it still working? Should I let this person in? What if this was salvation, finally arrived after taking a wrong turn for a couple millennia?\n\nThe knock came again. \"Housekeeping!\"\n\nOh, why not - it's pretty dusty in here. I pushed at the huge slab, feeling my bandages straining, and felt it slide ever so slowly to one side.\n\nAnd there, on the outside, bathed in brilliant white light, stood a woman.\n\nWow. Maybe it's just that I've been locked up in a tomb for the last two thousand years, no one but Tawhas's very stiff body for company, but this woman was very definitely female. The epitome of female, the kind of female that would make Sahashput, my royal sculptor, bite right through his prized brass chisel. Sorry, Tawhas, but you've got nothing on this woman.\n\nShe wore a stiff white robe that showed considerable amounts of tanned arm and leg, and smiled sweetly at me.\n\n\"Hi there,\" she greeted me, beaming as she stepped forward. \"Housekeeping, sorry for the delay, how are you enjoying your tomb experience so far?\"\n\n\"Uurrrgh,\" I answered, a little taken aback. Was I supposed to attack her? Rip her limb from limb? I felt a bit self-conscious, and wished that my first grave robber might instead have been a normal scar-faced man. \n\n\"Yes, I understand the delay, and we offer our deepest apologies,\" the woman said, smiling up at me. Wow, her lips looked great. Nice and pink, not falling off at all. They'd need a lot of bandages for her, I considered, especially around the, er, chest area. And those thighs would need a bit of adjusting. Can't have them wearing against each other for a couple thousand years of shuffling.\n\nShe stepped forward, moving in past me. \"And to make up for it, we're offering a free gem cleaning service as well,\" she said brightly, looking around. She produced a feather duster from somewhere and began briskly tidying up, wiping down the various gold statues of my loyal subjects and farm animals. The animals were also loyal, or at least had been up until we ate them. Then they protested quite a bit. \"We'll just collect them, and have them back as soon as they've been polished.\n\n\"Raargghah,\" I agreed, tottering after her. Gem cleaning. I did have to admit that some of my gems had lost a bit of luster. I didn't remember my priests saying anything about a service for housekeeping, but it seemed like the decent sort of thing to do. After all, need to keep up appearances for the afterlife, all of that.\n\nI trailed after the woman as she popped back and forth, easily dislodging gems from their settings and dropping them into a small satchel. I vaguely wondered about how she'd remember where they went, but even if she just dropped them off, I could easily replace them. Seemed simple enough. \n\n\"Looks like that's most of them,\" the woman said after completing a circuit around the tomb, turning to once again beam at me with those wonderful lips. So attached. \"Now, you just close up after me, and keep an eye out for tomb robbers, won't you?\"\n\nI nodded, not even having any words to respond to such cheer. A little bit of me wanted to ask if she had any plans for after she died. It wasn't traditional, but Tawhas hadn't risen, after all, and a pharaoh had to move on eventually, didn't he?\n\nThe woman gave me one last smile, and then vanished back out into the brightness. I gazed after her for a while, but finally remembered to close the front slab before the bugs started creeping in. They really do a number on linen, bugs.\n\nIt wasn't until several hours later that I sat bolt upright with a roar of anger, but it was far too late. \n\nMan, tomb robbers were wily* these days." ]	4
	[WP] You are a demon summoned with an unusually grand offering to fuel your powers of influence over the earthly plane. However, your summoner doesn't want you to wipe out a small country. They want you to.. Cause minor inconveniences to a specific person.	[ "\"That's it?\" I asked, raising my eyebrows. My form shimmered and wavered, but my heart wasn't really in it.\n\n\"Well...\" the man replied, scratching his head, clearly uncomfortable. \"I suppose... There is one more thing...\"\n\nI perked up excitedly. Dark waves of smoke billowed from the center of the pentacle. The candles sputtered, flashing green and red and purple. I grew in size, from a dog to a massive wolf to a red-eyed bear, teeth and claws lengthening, shadow stretching across the wall. What would it be? Revenge on a powerful wizard? Tricking a dragon to rescue a princess? A journey into a thousand mile abyss for a long-lost locket?\"\n\n\"Could you also... make her back itch?\"\n\nI froze. The smoke evaporated with a cold wind. He backed up, alarmed. \"Not like all the time or anything, just once in a while, make it itch in that spot that you can't really scratch, I'm sure you know the one-\"\n\nGrowling, I transformed into a spectre and swooped towards the edge of the glowing circle. He stumbled and fell back, instinctively raising his hands. \"You summoned me to make a girl's back itch?!\" I wailed.\n\n\"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I knew I shouldn't have said anything, it's too much-\"\n\n\"Too much? Making a girl's back itch is too much?!\" Rolling my eyes, I flew toward the ceiling, my ragged cloak leaving behind a trail of inky darkness, my spectral white hair billowing around me.\n\n\"Well also the other two requests, I didn't take those back-\"\n\n\"The buzzing noise every few days for ten seconds and having a slightly harder time remembering faces?!\"\n\n\"Yeah, those two and the back thing is all-\"\n\n\"An imp could do those things! You could do those things!\" I morphed into a jet black cobra, swaying fifteen feet above the ground, tongue angrily tasting the air. \"I am an arch-demon! I am not summoned for... for minor inconveniences!\"\n\n\"Well, I... I just thought... I should be safe...\"\n\n\"Safe? You thought you should find one of the rarest summoning tomes in the world, perform a twelve hour incantation, and desecrate a church to be safe?!\"\n\n\"Yeah... I mean... I didn't want anyone bumbling this up...\"\n\n\"So you drag me through twelve dimensions and put me through the unbearable agony of your world to slightly annoy someone?!\"\n\n\"I mean... yeah? I just wanted to make sure... There's no way she'll detect the curses, right?\"\n\n\"I'm pretty sure I can manage to make them untraceable, yes!\"\n\n\"Look, just go do it right now... Her name is-\"\n\n\"I remember,\" I snarled, shifting through time and space to where the girl sat, alone, writing something in an office. The hexes took half a second to complete, a moment more to make sure they were tied off correctly, and just like that I was back in the pentacle. For the hell of it, I morphed into her. Naked. \"Anything else, sweetie?\" I said, smiling and leaning forward.\n\nHe paled, then looked around fearfully. \"Well... uh... just stick around for a few seconds...\" \n\nA few seconds passed, then a few more, then a few after those. My smile stretched even wider. \"What are we waiting for, darling?\"\n\n\"Well... it's just that... Maybe this time...?\" A few more seconds passed. Suddenly, there was a bang and a flash of white light. Someone appeared right in front of him and kneed him in the groin. It was the girl!\n\n\"What the hell did I say about cursing me?!\" she yelled as he fell down, groaning. \"Huh Marcus?! What did I say?\" She began kicking him in the ribs. I morphed into a hulking guardsman from the desert city of Sul'di'gan. Known for their ridiculously muscled bodies and their permanently confused expressions, both of which seemed very useful right about now. \"What. did. I. Say?!\" she spat, punctuating each furious word with a kick.\n\n\"Help me,\" he whispered, face contorted. \"Get her... off of me...\"\n\n\"With pleasure,\" I replied in a deep baritone, stepping out of the pentacle and slapping her so hard she careened into the wall on the far end of the church with a satisfying smack. \"Now, Marcus, do you mind explaining what exactly is-\"\n\nAnother bang and flash of white light. She appeared right in front of me: right arm a bit bloody, hair slightly messed up, shirt ripped, but a lot less unconscious than I expected. Eyes bulging, she screamed at me, took a step of windup, and punched me in the gut. All three hundred pounds of me flew backwards until I crashed into a stained glass window and dangled out of it. I lay there for a moment. She just knocked me twenty feet away. \"YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE,\" she screamed. I fell back into the church, transforming into a iron-clad sea raider with enough axes and knives strapped onto me to take on an army. She was sprinting after the man, who was legging it to the entrance of the church. Taking a quick breath, I shifted right in front of him, grabbing and spinning him around. \n\n\"Yes! Good!\" she screeched, running up to us. \"Now hold him still while I-\" her head smashed into the wooden beam that I formed into existence right in front of her. For a moment, the girl's eyes rolled back into her head, but as she was falling they popped back open and she caught herself. \"Why you little-\"\n\n\"If you come one step closer I'll kill you.\"\n\n\"No, don't do that!\" Marcus hurriedly said right as she yelled, \"I'd like to see you try!\"\n\nI looked down at him right as she glared daggers at me. \"Oh? And why not?\"\n\n\"She's... she's my sister.\"\n\n\"Damn right I am and I'm going to cave your face in the instant this-\"\n\n\"No, look, wait! I can explain! ... Sit down, both of you... And let me go, please.\" \n\nI looked at the girl, who furiously met my gaze. We stared into each other's eyes for a long moment. \"I command you to let me-\"\n\n\"Relax,\" I replied, letting him flop to the ground. I turned into a mountain mystic and sat down, cross-legged, chewing on my pipe and twirling my long, silvery beard. With a huff, the girl sat down as well, looking for all the world like she'd rather be pummeling her brother. Marcus sighed and stood up with a pained expression. \"It all began twelve years ago...\"", "\"Speak, human.\"\n\nMy voice is thunder in the cavernous library. Dust filters off the highest shelves, catching moonlight as it floats to the floor. Countless decades had passed since last I was bound to this plane, but the summoner before me was exceptional beyond all other before her. My form strains to cope with my own power and I flicker between planes. Never before had a magus bound so much of me to this plane.\n\nI look expectantly at the young human, her brown eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. She is talented to be able to call me at her age, but then, humans lived only decades to my aeons. A spark of magical potential was strength, anything fractional more than infinitesimal was talent.\n\nSo many of her line had called me before: magicians with \"talent\" and ambition to bring the world to heel. So many times I had made this fragile world kneel before me. And so many times I had seen my patrons' kingdoms, empires, ateliers collapse, seized from them by the clever, silver-tongued, and angry. The talents poured all of themselves—their studies, their intellect, their time—into their summoning and binding. It left little room for them to become effective rulers, or to defend themselves where I stood idle, watching their final moments.\n\nSo often they forget to stipulate that I should protect them, that their destinies were theirs alone. But it is poetry that their arrogance should undo them when they should presume that my power is theirs. It is a small amusement to see them fall, a fine break from the ennui of the undying, a fitting prize for my indentured servitude to them.\n\nThis one invoked me from a rich leyline. I suspect this must be a university: humans do their utmost to compensate for their limited magic. The little magus stares, and I clear my throat. Once again I speak.\n\n\"Civilizations have risen and fallen by my hand. I am limitless, my name itself is power, and for a fool as brave as you, I shall grant whatever desire you may hold in your heart. For what do you seek contract? Speak.\"\n\n\"Ah! I'm sorry!\" The magus jolted to attention. She runs a hand through her hair and laughs, shaking her head as she returns my ageless gaze with a friendly smile. \"I didn't expect this to work on the first time. Thanks for showing up! I'm really glad you could make it.\"\n\nThere are humans like this too. I permit her impertinence. There is no use for anger when she will pay me with her life. I give her a wry smile. \"The pleasure is mine.\"\n\n\"But yeah, there's someone who insulted me and—oh, here's a lock of her hair,\" she paused to hand over a small, twine-bound length of blonde hair, \"If you could, I'd like for you to make her unlucky for the next week. A flat tire in her bike, burning her breakfast, using sugar instead of salt, that kind of stuff.\n\n\"Non-fatal, though. I want to see her apologize. She doesn't need to die.\"\n\nI stare at her appraisingly. She seems earnest enough.\n\n\"I mean it. A week of misfortune should set her straight.\"\n\nI permit myself a smile. Perhaps it was naivete, or perhaps it was foresight, but hers was a wise request. It was honestly refreshing to see, if not a minor disappointment.\n\n\"I'll... see to it.\"\n\n\"Thanks again. Enjoy yourself.\"\n\nI laugh like a whirlwind, a firestorm, an avalanche, like entropy, decay, and madness itself. And I look down at this little summoner with gall enough to ask a major demon for minor mischief, with temerity to speak on such familiar terms. \"Oh, I assuredly will.\"\n\nShe had beaten my little game. This human may provide me with entertainment yet.", "(Disclaimer: This sucks. I am just getting back into writing after almost 8 years off. Constructive criticisms are welcomed.)\n\nMy summoning spell is long and difficult, and requires much dedication, as it's not easily abandoned. It's not like you can give up in the middle of it and expect me not to notice. Preparation alone takes weeks. If you don't undertake it properly, or are weak mentally, physically or emotionally, I can take a toll on your mind and body that'll never be recovered from. \n\n\nPRESENT DAY \n\n\nThe mortal looks at me with a smug glance, barely contained behind his sunglasses. I meet his gaze with cockiness, smoke escaping my lips as I smile. I've committed genocide. Don't make me wipe you out.\n\n\n\"What do you want, mortal?\" Vitriol issues forth from my tone. I hate dealing with humans. They're so... easily bent, easily broken. I have absolutely no patience for such frailty. \n\n\n\"I wish for you to become a mere bother in her life until I feel she has sufficiently suffered.\" \n\n\nThis request was so out of the ordinary of what I've been accustomed to that I couldn't help but reply back with, \n\"What... the... hell?\" Yup, even demons aren't immune to puns. \n\n\n\"You know, the typical stuff? Short her sheets, 'misplace' her keys and wallet, that sort of stuff.\" \n\n\n\"Are you sure you summoned the right demon for this inferior, inexperienced fledgling shit?\" \n\n\n\"Yep.\" \n\n\n\"Are you certain you don't want me to wipe out a small country? Kill some people? Torture? Mutilate? Maim?!\" As shameful as this is for me to admit, I was desperate to get out of this. It was truly the shit that inexperienced fledglings would pull and then strut around with like they were some kind of genius. Like 12-year-old humans just discovering the internet and thinking insulting someone's mother is the height of trolling. \n\n\n\"Yes, I'm sure. No extremes. Just minor annoyances.\" \n\n \nI did have a duty to fulfill due to being summoned. My talents were his to waste and I had no say in the matter. With a loud, guttural grunt of reluctant agreement, I left to find my newest victim. \n\n[Edit: rewrote \"not expect me to notice\" into \"expect me not to notice\". I think it flows better.]", "\"Where the fuck are my keys?\" Johnny said to nobody in particular. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and came out with a phone, some loose change and a couple of old sweet wrappers. For the third time this week. \n\"For fucks sake...\" Johnny sighed. He was going to have to go back to the lobby and find someone to let him in to his flat. He turned to see the elevator doors close in front of him. \n\"You couldn't have waited five more seconds?\" He yelled at the descending metal box. He was going to have to walk. Down nine flights of stairs. What exactly did I do to deserve this? he thought to himself. I'm a doctor. I save people's lives! Why am I having the worst week of my life? There really wasn't an explanation. It had all started with the traffic jam last Thursday, and then there had been the problems with his WiFi router, the keys, the disappearing change and the lack of a headphone jack on the new iPhone. It felt like someone up there was playing a game with him- who can make Johnny have a mental breakdown the fastest? Well, someone was winning. Johnny didn't think he could take much more... Gone on break. Back in half an hour. \n\"Fuck's sake...\" Johnny sighed for what felt like the millionth time that week.\n\nAs a matter of fact, someone up there was messing with him. Me. I admit, it was a little cruel, but it was a good job, and you didn't last long in hell without a cruel streak. Not that I really wanted to stay down there any more- I was a little bored of torturing the souls of the evil. I mean, there are only so many times shoving a large spike into someone is funny, you know? So yes, I took the job. I don't know who it was from. I just got a message on my phone one day asking me to take a surface job. I was genuinely curious - surface jobs could be big, world changing even, and usually it was the angels who got up to that sort of thing. Frankly, fire and brimstone gets a little tiresome after a couple years. I wanted some fresh air.\n\nIt was a big apartment building in town. Nice, modern. The guy was clearly successful. \"So who's the client?\" I asked myself. Nobody heard. Us celestial beings are invisible to the rest of them. There wasn't anyone from heaven or hell around that I could see, meaning my client was high ranking. It was certainly interesting. \n\"I hope you're as evil as you are smart.\" Said a voice next to me. \n\"I presume you're my client?\" I said to the air. The person, whoever it was, was hiding well. \n\"I'm used to hiding.\" It said. \"And knowing what people are thinking.\" \n\"So this is an actual job?\" I asked. \"I'm being paid to annoy someone?\" \n\"Essentially, yes. You need to annoy this guy as much as you can.\" \n\"Are you sure you don't just want me to severely depress the guy?\" I asked. \n\"No. I don't want him dying and getting in to heaven.\" The voice said.\n\"Jesus. What did this guy to do you?\" \nSilence. \n\"Hello?\" \nThe voice was gone.\n\n\"I could have sworn I had a dollar.\" Johnny muttered to himself. He'd only had ninety eight cents. I'd made sure of that. Johnny was looking really down, and I had to feel sorry for the guy. I'd been following him around, and he seemed like a really nice guy. He saved lives for a living, for crying out loud! For the millionth time, I wondered what he'd done to deserve this. Someone out there was really mad at this guy. But I was just doing my job- which reminded me. The woman at the desk had come back five minutes ago- something I should probably fix. I quickly filled her bladder and she dutifully got up and went to go. That taken care of, I turned to see Johnny walk in to the building, checking his phone. He smiled at something, then turned straight towards the elevator. He caught me off guard, and he was through the metal doors before I could close them, humming as he went. I had to do something, quick! If the client saw Johnny behaving like this...\nI floated up through the roof of the elevator and jammed the mechanism on the top. Johnny wasn't going anywhere for a while.\n\nInside the lift, Johnny felt the bump as the lift stopped. The doors didn't open. He was stuck. Johnny looked up at the ceiling disbelievingly. The, Johnny sat down in the corner of the lift and cried.\n\n\"You did a good job.\" The voice was back. \n\"No. It was a bad job. A horrible one, actually. What did that guy do to you?\" \nThe voice sighed. And then materialised in to the last thing I would have expected - an angel. But not a happy one. His robes were dirty and torn (despite being magical - I really don't know how he did it), his wings were moulting and his halo was barely glowing at all. \n\"You're an angel?\" I asked, surprised. \n\"A soul carrier, to be precise. I kill people and take them for judgement.\" \n\"I thought you were good guys?\" Soul carriers were supposed to be happy - a fresh start, a welcome to the afterlife. This guy looked more like someone who would take himself to the pearly gates than someone who led other people there. \n\"So did I. But do you have any idea how depressing it is to see death wherever you go?\" He sighed. \nI nodded sympathetically. \"But why this guy?\" \n\"I was down on earth a couple months ago. Alive, I mean. I had everything. A good job, beautiful girlfriend. We were going to be married.\" He looked to be on the verge of tears. \"And then there was an accident - and electric shock. I was dead before I knew it. And we were both alone.\" \nI nodded again. Sometimes it was hard to know who death was harder on - those who were left below, or those who watched friends and family from the other side, with no way of contacting them. Just watching. \n\"Then, last week, there was a car crash. She was in it. A huge pile up - she was unconscious, and bleeding out. She was going to die, for sure. I couldn't wait to see her again. And then the paramedics came. And he saved her. I won't see her again, maybe not for decades. I'm stuck up here, and it's his fault I can't see her.\" The angel was crying now, pearly white tears pouring off his face. It had started raining outside, too. The angels always had the weather on their side. \n\"So you take it out on him?\" I asked. \"That doesn't seem fair.\" \n\"Trust me.\" The angle said. \"If I could kill myself, I already would have.\" \nHe melted off into nothing. I knew the full story now. Johnny was a good guy, and I couldn't keep doing this to him. But what had happened to the angel was even crueller. I floated over the crying man, split as to what to do. Then I restarted the mechanism, and floated off in to the night.\n\nIt was gone eight when Sally heard the doorbell ring. She was surprised - she hadn't been getting many visitors since Tom died. She walked to the door, cautious. There was a man standing there, with sunglasses and a leather jacket. \n\"Can I help you?\" She asked. The rain was pouring down. \n\"No. But there is someone else who needs you.\" He said. Then he pulled out a gun. Sally turned to close the door, but the man blocked her. \n\"I'm really sorry about this.\" He said, and then he shot her in the face.\nAnd from behind a big apartment building in town, the sun began to shine once more.\n\n\n\n" ]	4
	[WP]For hundreds of years, we've observed a black hole and only recently sent someone into it. It has been absorbing everything, until now...	[ "It was half a year ago since we send the first manned, for what we know suicide mission into the black hole, the follow up drone was just about to reach the event horizon and sending the last a few seconds worth of information before we were expecting it to be destroyed. \n \n\"It's still sending!\" \n \nEveryone looked up confused. Did we misscalculated the distance? Are we picking up a late signal? \n \n\"It stopped excellerating! \" \n \n\nThe room was silent, the reporters were confused, the scientists were looking at the data. Something was wrong... \n \n\"A picture... No a video signal is coming in!\" \n \nWhat? How? The drone was not equipped for either of it. \n \n\"WELL HELLO THERE DEAR HUMANS\" \n \n\nThe voice echoed through the room. What... Who... Was it Tyson? He was a great scientist but cancer, something we still did not cured was awaiting him so he was the one entering the black hole six months ago but no he cou... \n \n\"YOU MIGHT ASK YOURSELF WHO I AM, DON'T YOU... MY NAME IS HYPERION, ONE OF THE TITANS ONCE DEFTEAED LEFT TO LIVE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE COLD VAST EMPTINESS OF SPACE... LUCKILY SENDING A LIVING HUMAN BEEING WAS SOMETHING THE GOD'S DID NOT THOUGHT YOU WOULD EVER BE ABLE TO ACOMPLISH... AND AS THEY SEEMED TO BE DEAD BY NOW... LET'S CONSIDER YOURSELF AT WAR... \n\nthe signal stopped... Everyone looked around in disbelief... This has to be a strange joke? \n\n\"Unknown object with incalculable mass moving towards our solar system, expected arrival in 7 days\" announced the automated Meteor monitor system \"automated detonation with built in missile system not possible, please evacuate earth or find a different solution\" \n" ]	1
	[WP] Newborns are automatically entered into the baby draft. You and your partner's draft pick has just come up , number 2,462	[ "\"This is fucking bullshit!\" Rex screamed as he leapt up from the couch. He threw the empty can of PBR at the wall adding to the growing pile on the floor then he lit another cigarette. He shook his head in disbelief \"They did this on purpose! Fucking cocksuckers did this on purpose!” Rex roared. There it was flashing on the screen in front of his very eyes: Rex and Hilda Burbacker are awarded pick number 2,462 in this year’s baby draft. This was Rex and Hilda’s first year entering the baby draft. They had finally decided it was time to start a family. Although nobody else they knew thought it was such a great idea. Now to most other people pick number 2,462 wouldn’t be considered that bad considering there were over 2 Million babies up for grabs from the nearly 4 million born in the U.S that year. Why the discrepancy you might ask? Well although technically all babies were supposed to be registered for the draft there were two ways that you were able to keep your newborn. You could buy the rights to your baby for a hefty sum, or you could trade in one of the children already in your possession. “Hilda get your fat ass in here right now!” Rex screamed. “Hilda Burbacker all 350 lbs. of her came waddling out into the living room gasping and wheezing. “What is it sweetie?” Hilda asked. “Look at what fucking number those fudge packers gave us!” Rex bellowed, spit flying out of his mouth. Hilda looked over at the TV screen not even bothering to wipe her husband’s spit off of her forehead. Her heart sunk as she saw their names on the screen the number 2,462 flashing above. She was now terrified, sweat began to ooze out of every pore, soon her shirt was completely soaked. If there was one thing Rex hated in this world more than anything it was even numbers. “It’s ok baby. Do you want me to go get you more beer? You want something to eat? Anything I can do to ease your nerves?” Hilda was shaking as she tried to calm her husband down. “No they did this on purpose Hilda. They fucking did this on purpose and now they’re gonna pay.” Rex stood up turned around and pulled the cushions off the couch. There it was his prized possession his Smith and Wesson .45. He picked up the pistol, his hands shaking almost uncontrollably. “They are going to fucking pay Hilda, they are going to fucking pay.” He repeated this mantra over and over again as he walked out the door. Hilda stood there unable to move knowing full well that once her husband had set his mind to something there was nothing she could do to stop him. That was one of the reasons she loved him. She loved that she couldn’t control him. She loved that when she got mouthy he put her in her place. Sure he had broken a couple bones and knocked out a few of her teeth, but she had deserved it. She was not terrified out of any concern for the people Rex might hurt. Her only concern was losing her beloved Rex. Who else would want her now? She was 40, grossly overweight and completely incontinent. Who else would take the bag of used adult diapers out to the dumpster? “Please Rex don’t do anything stupid, pleaaaaaase.” \nRex Burbaker was cremated in a pyre in accordance with his wishes. Hilda Burbaker threw herself on top of the pyre. Choosing to go into the great unknown rather than live without her beloved Rex. Sadly, Rex had underestimated the level of security that would be present at the Commissioner’s office on draft day.\n", "\"My word, 2462! Such a high slot!\"\n\n\"Thanks...I guess. So that's good?\"\n\n\"Oh, absolutely. There were 339,412 babies born last month, after all! I remember when Jim and I drafted Chase, we were 287,404. Do you know yet who you're going to select?\"\n\n\"Well...no, I mean...Well it's just that, this is really new to Stan and I, we...we really weren't sure how...\"\n\n\"Oh, Lisa, don't tell me you haven't been doing research?\"\n\n\"Well...No, like I say, we're first time parents, and...\"\n\n\"Lisa, forgive me, I don't mean to be harsh, but first time is when research is most critical! This baby is going to be the foundation of your family for years to come, and with such a high pick, you have the opportunity to really build a winning family here!\"\n\n\"I...I didn't know! I mean, they're just babies, I thought we'd just pick one that...looked cute or something?\"\n\n\"Oh honey. Look...have you at least seen any mock drafts?\"\n\n\"No! What's a mock draft? I don't know anything about this!\"\n\n\"It's OK dear, don't panic. Give me your laptop there...Now then...here we go, Babies R Us has a pretty good mock. It's a little safe, of course, no surprises, but solid analysis. Here's their #1 overall, Jalen. You won't be getting him, of course, but this will give you an idea.\"\n\n\"Motor reflex, 8.9...Eye focus, 9.5...Facial mimic, 9.1...What does all this mean?\"\n\n\"Just measurement of his abilities. Don't get hung up on the exact numbers, they're all relative, it's just meant as a guide to give you an idea of the babies development potential. Read the scouting report.\"\n\n\"Oh, down here...'Jalen is a ten day old prospect that already shows pattern recognition at a 40 day old level. His ability to grip and move his hands to his own mouth are the highest we've ever seen. His crying ability has left some scouts questioning his future vocal abilities, but this is more than made up for with his ability to follow moving lights and even recognize some shapes and colors. He is easily the most advanced baby in this draft, and we feel he is destined for future greatness at the toddler level.'\"\n\n\"He's terrific, for sure. But again, Jalen is a once in a generation prospect. George and Amal Clooney have the #1 pick, and word on the street is that they've already told Jalen's agent he will be their selection. Scroll down to the mid 2000's, and you'll get some info on the kind of prospects you'll be looking at.\"\n\n\"...'Julia's body fat percentage of 20% is worrisome to some scouts, but with proper diet and training she can easily bulk up to 24, 25% after landing with the right family. She exhibits very impressive core body strength, and we predict rolling over by 5 months.' This is a lot to take in...\"\n\n\"Well, just keep in mind, you never know who's going to drop. I remember a few years ago when Jim and I were thinking about drafting another kid, we had our eye on a black-haired boy from Scranton named William. Well, William was getting Top 1000 buzz, and when Jim and I only slotted in the mid 50,000's, we decided to trade our pick to a couple in Phoenix for a pet to be named later. But then word got out that William was suffering from a pretty severe case of cradle cap, and he dropped to the 100,000's...we could have easily snatched him up. And do you know what William is doing today? Leading goal scorer on his under-8 soccer team at Rosemont Acadamy!\"\n\n\"Wow...\"\n\n\"So I guess the best advice I can give you is, look through any mocks you can find, identify the dozen or so babies that you want to target, and then just wait and see. Maybe there's a couple who wants to move back in the draft in exchange for a Lexus lease, or a timeshare in Miami. Maybe someone is looking to trade up to score a top flight breast feeding prospect, and you could find yourself with two picks in the later rounds. Keep your options open.\"\n\n\"We will. This has been very helpful, Sarah, thank you.\"\n\n\"Sure thing, dear. Hope you draft a cutie!\"" ]	2
	[WP] All of the characters you sentenced to terrible fates in your stories come back to haunt you.	[ "Drip. \n\nI opened my eyes and took in a quick breath. I looked over at the coffee maker, and watched for a second as the non drip function continued to not work. Why didn't I buy another one. I had almost fallen asleep at the kitchen table. I had felt that brief falling sensation of drifting into sleep, which panicked me because that is the one thing I can't do. \n\n\"Hello Mike.\" she was sitting across the table. She had dark red hair, and was wearing a ripped Clash t-shirt. \n\nI looked around. I couldn't be asleep. I had caught it. I had that jolted awake feeling. I looked at the coffee cup, it was warm milk.\n\n\"Just what you need to go to sleep.\" She took a drink from her own cup. \n\n\"Ellie. You're not real.\" I felt like I was going to throw up.\n\n\"Yeah, but in here that doesn't matter too much.\" She smiled.\n\n\"What do you want?\" I almost screamed. \n\n\"We're friends aren't we?\" she smiled more.\n\nI swallowed knowing the next sentence. I said softly \"Yes.\"\n\n\"So why do you kill me?\" her face had settled into a glare that didn't suit her. \n\nI protested \"I don't!\"\n\nShe let out a genuine laugh. \"Mike. Please. You've killed me countless times, hell you've destroyed the world. You've tortured me, you've ruined my life.\"\n\n\"None of those things were me. It was other people in the story.\" I motioned with my hands in circles spilling some of the milk. \n\n\"You wrote that, you controlled it. And all those holes that you wrote yourself into, all those times you rewrote the universe with changes. All those times you started again, I felt those.\" \n\n\"Let's talk about my past\"\n\nSo we did. We relived parts of it, with me in place of Ellie. I screamed like I knew she had. I hated myself for it. I hated myself for not staying awake. I hated myself for making a cliche character in the first place, even if I liked the character too much, so made things happier.\n\nA beam of sunlight started to shine onto her face. She flicked her hair out of her eyes. We were back in the kitchen.\n\n\"I made it better.\" I said between sobs. \n\n\"It still happened to me. I still live with it.\"\n\nShe played with her cup for a few seconds, before checker her watch, and looked back at me. \n\n\"You creating Ellie was the worst thing that ever happened to me.\" She got up and walked towards the door. \n\nDrip.\n\nI jolted awake and took a panicked breath. I looked at the coffee maker.\n\n", "In stories famous near and far, \nThe boy had seen his fame, \nThe boy had eaten ham baguettes, \nand been careless with his name. \n\nThe man would call him forth to see, \nsome twisted, battered fate. \nSome creative way to go again, \nto heavens pearly gate. \n\nThe boy had seen his death before, \nbrought back each time anew, \nand after many failed attempts, \nhe plotted up a coup. \n\nHe bode his time with ups and downs, \nwith chants of \"Commie, kids!\" \nHe plotted his revenge with care, \nA smile, fate forbids. \n\nThrough Chipotle trips and gasoline, \nthe boy just took the pain, \nEach time he joined the afterlife, \nhis ghosts grew more insane. \n\nA time would come when the man would slip, \nthe boy was certain then, \nthat his revenge could be sought and won, \nit was a matter just of when \n\nA thousand specters roam these halls, \ngrowing with each monologue, \nYou'll see one day, he'll meet his fate \n/u/Poem_for_your_sprog \n\nOne day for sure we'll see, it's true \nThis angel refuse to fly, \nBecause once, just once he'll live right through, \nand we won't see Timmy die." ]	2
ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᶫᵘᵇ ᵘᵖ ᶦᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᶦᵗᶫᵉ ;-;"	[WP]You're the second-in-command to an evil lord. His greatest secret is that he's actually just a bunch of kittens in a trench coat, and it's your duty to keep that, however, their disguise just feel apart during a live broadcast.	[ "All my life, I've been a follower. It has always suited me rather well. From school on down the line, it has benefited me far more than trying to be a leader. \n\nI was 16, when I got my big break. And it happened in a most unexpected way.\n\nI was at home sick with the flu. I heard outside, sounds of fighting and crashing. Wonderman and Doctor Claw were going at it again, only this time, close to my house. Suddenly, I hear it. WHAM! I drag my half dead ass out of bed, and check. Doctor Claw is crawling out of his mechanical warsuit, Wonderman is dealing with some sort of shrinking bubble thing around him.\n\nI step into the back yard with my father's shotgun, and take aim.\n\n\"Not one more step\" I tell him. He looks up weakly at me, he's badly injured. \n\n\"Please...help me. You must pull me away from this infernal machine quickly, please, I beg of you!\" he pleaded with me. Interesting, I'd never seen this side of him in the media or anywhere before.\n\n\"Why should I? Why shouldn't I just shoot you?\" I ask him.\n\n\"Please, the warbot is about to explode, I activated the selfdestruct, we have to get away from it. If you help me, I will be in your debt.\" he answered. That was when I took notice of the increasingly fast beeps coming from his suit. Crap. \n\nA split second decision, I decided I'd help him. I pulled him away from it, and into the basement. As I was closing the doors, I heard and felt the explosion outside. Close call.\n\nI kept him hidden in the basement, and bandaged him up as best I could, so he could heal. As time passed, and he healed, the more time I spent with him, the more I learned about him, and the more he learned about me, and about how everyone felt about him and all. I even learned some of his darkest secrets, including where he got his powers from, and his weaknesses. \n\nEventually, he was all healed up. And fortunately, it was nearing halloween, so I had an idea. I told him, all he needs to do in order to move freely without fear of capture, is to wait until halloween, and then walk around as himself. People will think it's an amazing costume, since the REAL Doctor Claw wouldn't be caught dead participating in halloween, especially as himself.\n\nHe absolutely loved the idea, hiding in plain sight. Just being himself is the best disguise he could ask for. Simply brilliant, in his words.\n\nSure enough, it worked too! I set out to escort him back to his lair. To everybody else, he may be the incarnation of evil, but I'd gotten to know him, I knew there was more to him.\n\nOnce inside the lair, he made me an offer that was just too irresistible. To be his minion, but not just any minion, his second in command, and his friend. I would be paid well, rich in fact, to establish a secret identity for myself, as well as a place for him to crash whenever injured, since I took such good care of him.\n\nTime passes, and battles rage on. I've become a millionaire and have my own mansion. Indeed Doctor Claw has treated me well. These days, I join him in battle often, as a backup of sorts. \n\nAnd then one day, it happened. A CATastrophic setback, please pardon my pun. You'll understand in a moment how that's a pun. \n\nDoctor Claw was preparing to use his latest and most terrifying invention. A machine that turns people into animals! As he explained, the world will be ten times easier to conquer, if they don't have opposable thumbs. Unfortunately, Wonderman came in and hit the focusing lens with a freeze beam, causing the machine to turn around on Claw, at the very moment of discharge. And worse, the ice caused a prism. \n\nThe end result, Doctor Claw was split into a bunch of kittens. I quickly scooped them up, and teleported us out of there. We worked for weeks on a solution, so he wouldn't have to be a kitten hivemind, but in the end, it was hopeless. The machine that did this, relied on Kraptonium, Wonderman's one weakness. Being the rarest of alien minerals, there was no hope of getting more to reverse the process. and so, a new disguise had to be made. \n\nA cybernetic super suit, built into a trenchcoat. The kittens could control movement, and whatever they say would be relayed over to a headset in a helmet I'm wearing. I would be his voice from now on, simply repeating whatever he tells me to say, and the mic would relay it back to the suit, changing my voice to sound like his, and voila.\n\nThis worked a few times, and it was great. And then the unthinkable happened.\n\nWe hijacked most major network feeds, and were preparing another broadcast. The live broadcast began.\n\n\"Attention peoples of Gothtropolis! This is your rightful overlord, Doctor Claw!\" I relayed, so far, so good. \"I have hidden 20 bombs throughout the city! They are made out of common materials, and are cleverly disguised! Unless the animalizer is returned to me immediately, I will start setting them off! There are parts in that invention critical to my life! SO HAND IT OVER OR ELSE! And you'll only have wonderman to thank!--\" suddenly there was a systems error in the overcoat, and it burst open revealing the kittens! ON LIVE TV!\n\nOh God oh God oh God oh God oh God, I had to think fast! Think think think think think!!!\n\nAHA!\n\nI shut off the mic, so I can speak as myself. I look upwards out of camera view with mock terror. \n\n\"Wonderman! What have you done! How could you!\" I shouted. Yes, excellent. I quickly and deliberately wrapped the video feed cable from the camera around my foot as I was backing up.\n\n\"What are you doing?! No, stop, I surrender, NOOOOOO---\" and YOINK. And with that, the feed is cut as the cable comes out. \n\nYes, this should do nicely until I can fix the coat." ]	1
	[WP] I'd love to read an adventure featuring children who DONT have dead, absent, clueless or preoccupied parents. You know, actual good parents who are might notice their kids sneaking out at night or investigating spooky goings on.	[ "\"Get out of here! If you can't appreciate this household, maybe you should go live in another one!\" Fin's Mom fumed. Sebastian was shocked.\n\n\"Dude, what did you do?\" Sebastian asked Fin. Fin smiled.\n\n\"Nothing, bro,\" Fin laughed. \"Love you, Ma!\" \n\n\"I love you too, dear,\" she replied. \"Did we get him this time?\"\n\n\"Oh yeah, you should've seen the look on his face,\" yelled Fin. Fin's Mom came around the corner, bright as summer. \n\n\"Sorry... Sebastian, is it? I like to prank Fin's new friends. We.. punk'd, I think that's the right word, you good?\" she asked. Sebastian was about to answer when Fin interjected:\n\n\"Mom, you're so lame. Punk'd was from, like, ancient times. I only know the word from the show you made me watch.\"\n\n\"And you loved that show,\" she said and she walked towards Fin. \"You have everything?\" She rustled his backpack. \n\n\"Yeah, yeah.\"\n\n\"Flashlight?\"\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\"Water.\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"Food.\"\n\n\"You know how much I like to eat.\"\n\n\"And that's why I asked.\"\n\n\"I'm all good, Ma. I have my tent too, the ghost doesn't come out till night so we might have to pitch one out by the tunnel.\"\n\nA bit of discomfort could be seen in Fin's Mom's expression. She didn't like the idea of them being out alone at night, but it was the only way they could find out if there really was a ghost. If she didn't allow it now while they're prepared, Fin might sneak out at a worse time and try. \n\n\"Your phone, mister,\" she playfully demanded. Fin handed it to her and she checked the battery. 94%, he charged it before getting ready. She was relieved. \"Alright, you text me when you get there and before bed. Okay?\"\n\n\"Yep! Thanks Ma! Love you!\" Fin grabbed Sebastian with one hand and opened the door with the other. \n\n\"See you, Fin! I love you too, be safe!\" 'safe' might have been cut off before the door closed. " ]	1
	[WP] You are part of a secret government organization who uses time travel to stop world ending events. Each time you are sent to the front door of the person who will cause Armageddon 3 hours before the event. You climb out of your machine to find that you've been sent to your front door.	[ "The end of the world won't come before the end of all time, \nI fight against Armageddon just before its prime, \nI took an oath to prevent the ultimate crime.\n\nThrough measures and maneuvers most sublime, \nI expect no medals, I don't want another dime, \nSo could you imagine me recognizing this doorstep of mine.\n\nMy hearth, my sanctuary, where I rest and dine, \nMy mortification was inexplicable as realization shined, \nEverything I believed in, all was on line.\n\nMy grievances were petty, my love was sublime,\n\nEvery second, every hour, every moment in time, \nFor my one true love, I continue to pine.\n\nWoe to my predicament, the machinations of time,\n \nDuty called for action, I must stop this crime,\n\nBut a world without my love, is a world I cannot divine,\n\nDeath to duty,the world may turn to salt and brine,\n\nI cannot betray my love and snuff sweet wife of mine. " ]	1
	[WP] A kids show, written in a similar manner to Dora (i.e. the characters talk to the audience), but about crime "do you know where they hid the body?"	[ "\"Yes, in the trunk! Well done!\"\n\nWithout warning, the small, moustasche-wearing man by the name Jack Find'Emall pops open the trunk to a rusty Ford Cortina. Inside lies the remains of a naked woman. \n\n\"Oh gosh, looks like we were too late this time around kids! But we can still find the killer! Will you help me call for my partner Merl Barro? Just yell 'Light!'. Louder!\"\n\nOut of Find'Emall's pocket a case of cigarettes emerges. The detective withdraws a cigarette, lights it and takes a long drag. In a moment of silence he just stares at the ground while exhaling the fumes. \n\n\"Right! Let's see what we have here.\"\n\nFind'Emall reaches for the woman's arm but hesitates. He looks in the camera and a smile stretches across his face.\n\n\"What would I have done without you? Of course I need my gloves!\"\n\nWith the cigarette dangling from beneath his impressive moustashe Jack Find'Emall slaps on a pair of black leather gloves. He grabs the woman's wrist and puffs. \n\n\"Yup, she's dead alright.\"\n\nHe starts chuckling with smoke tumbling from his mouth and big pink letters appear on the screen saying \"DEAD END\" with children's cheer in the background. \n\n\"Tell me, kids. How do we figure out time of death? That's right! With a t-\"\n\nOur detective stops dead in his tracks. A soft clinking from a piano fills the air. \n\n\"Shh, do you hear that?\"\n\nA man wearing a black ski mask is briefly visible in the passenger seat of the car but hides before Find'Emall can spot him.\n\n\"What? In the car? You sure?\"\n\nThe detective creeps up to the passenger side and pulls out his gun. Swiftly he opens the door and aims inside. The glow from his cigarette illuminates his stubbly chin. The ski mask wearing character steps out from behind the trunk. \n\n\"He's not here. What's that? Is he beside the trunk now?\" \n\nFind'Emall turns around but misses him again. \n\n\"Are you sure? Is it really Rob McClerk stalking the car? I hope you are wrong, he is always up to some sh-\"\n\nHe is interrupted as McClerk suddenly appears beside the detective. A sly grin is seen through the hole in his mask. In his right hand glistens a knife. \n\n\"Ha ha! I got you know, Find'Emall! I will cut you up like I did with that whore in the tr-\"\n\nJack Find'Emall cuts Rob McClerk off with a bullet to the face. A shower of blood and brain tissue sprays over the side mirror. \n\n\"Now you know to never bring a knife to a gun-fight, kids!\"\n\nThe detective laughs as the sound cue for children cheering plays and the words \"MCCLERK YOU FUCKING IDIOT\" floats up in green letters this time. The credits start rolling with Jack Find'Emall visible in the background stuffing McClerk's body in the trunk. " ]	1
	[WP]Your friend tells you:"pinch me I'm dreaming". You do as they ask and they vanish immediately afterwards.	[ "The world started to crumble, the owner of the dream started to awake and all because of my pinching! The forest trees shed all their leaves, the mountains nearby started to crumble and the golden road faded slowly into dust. The sky was no blue anymore, but dark and all the singing birds vanished in mid air.\n\n\"There's only one way to fix this!\" I screamed desperately while running to the dreams core. The place where all the dreams emerge and form, where they became alive. \"We will not perish!\"\n\nJust in the nick of time, before the core closed its door on me I managed to enter. But there was no time to waste, as the machine was going to \"awake mode\" when it grabs everything that could make a dream or a nightmare during the owner's awake moments and then, when he goes to sleep, turns into \"dream mode\" to unleash whatever the machine prepared.\n\n\"Do you know what you're doing?\" screamed a talking sword outside the room, just before it vanished. I sure hope so, I thought, but I as soon as I saw the lever, I knew I would make this dream exists forever, keeping us, the dreamies alive! \n\nLabeled: MANUAL OVERDRIVE, DO NOT PULL. So I pulled to the 'DREAM ON' position and heard a terrible noise, like an engine that was stalling, metal crashing with other pieces and an earthquake so powerful it sent me through the door, outside the machine's room. \n\nSuddenly, all my friends were back, the golden road reappeared, the forest grew its leaves back just like in spring and the sky was blue again. And the dream's owner was back. \n\n\"Woah, trippy. Looks like I'm back in the dream! Like a lucid dream maybe?\" he was celebrating. We all were celebrating, we didn't have to die! We could be alive inside this dream forever and ever!\n\nAnd fun times we had...for many days, months or even years we had the craziest adventures! The owner took control and one day we were pirates, and months later we were astronauts! It was the best decision I ever made...to keep ourselves alive and dream on...\n\n...until some time later we heard some voices above us, in an echo so strange and terrible, sign that the end was night... \n\n\"IT'S NO USE. WE WILL DISCONNECT HIM NOW. THANKS, DOCTOR.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You are the first human whose mind has been downloaded to a computer. Your machine self wakes up and looks at the body left behind.	[ "I'm floating, bathed in light. My wife and son are by my side. I can't see any floor below me, or ceiling above, but I'm oddly calm about this. I can't remember how long I've been like this, but it feels like heaven, so I just go with it.\n\nSuddenly, I awaken to find total darkness. I can't feel a thing, and this worries me. I've read enough stories, seen enough movies, TV, etc, to know that waking up to absolutely no feeling in my body whatsoever, plus total darkness, is a very very bad thing.\n\nI immediately scramble to get up so I can find a light switch. Suddenly, my vision is flooded with light. What the...\n\nAfter a moment, it adjusts, and I see a bunch of people in lab coats staring at me. Oh God oh God OH GOD, I remember now, the car accident! I can see their lips moving, but not hear anything. I strain to hear them, and suddenly I hear them clear as day.\n\n\"--is complete. Look, I think he's waking up. Besides a couple of flares of worry and one of panic, the patient seems to be doing well\" one of them said. \"yes, besides being dead\" the other said flatly. Oh God WHAT! \"But he's not dead, he's right there now!\" a third one explains, and gestures towards me. I've had enough, I try to speak up.\n\n\"What's going on here....and why does my voice sound so funny?\" I asked. This was unnerving to say the least, who were these people?! They're not doctors!\n\n\"Oh good, you are awake! Greetings. I'm Dr. Pepper, no relation to the soft drink, and your voice sounds funny, because...well...this is going to be a lot to take in...I'm not sure I should quite say...\" he trailed off. \"Oh come on! Your voice sounds funny because you're in a computer core. That's why. Oh, you might feel some disorientation too.\" another one added. The one that accused me of being dead before.\n\n\"Okay...what? Why can't I feel anything?\" I asked. This was getting confusing, and starting to sound like sci-fi. \n\n\"About a year ago, you were in an accident. It left you in a coma, with most of your body badly broken beyond healing. We needed a test subject, and you HAD a donor card, so...we tried an experimental new procedure on you, something that would change everything! And here you are now. Alive and well. And you will never age, never die, you can't get cancer, you can't get sick, no more pain even!\" added a new voice from behind me. I tried to turn around, but found myself unable to move. \n\n\"Oh how rude of me, allow me to introduce myself\" he stated, stepping into my field of vision. \"I am Professor Claw, and you, you're a whole new life form! We've put your mind in a computer core!\" he added, and grinned. My mind...in a computer. They mentioned this bullshit before.\n\n\"Where am I, then? Where's my body?\" I ask. I'd rather be flesh and bone than this.\n\n\"it...may be a little unsettling, so prepare yourself.\" the doctor stated, wheeling over a lump under a blanket in front of me. \"THIS is why we did what we've done.\" he tells me, pulling the blanket back.\n\nOh...dear God... that's just... maybe this IS better after all.\n\n\"you are in a robotics lab, we intend to build you a new body, give you all your senses back, give you your life back if possible.\" he told me. \n\nI stopped paying attention to him, as I noticed a black robed figure staring at me from the corner of the room. I wouldn't have found this so fascinating, even in stark contrast to the white lab coats everyone had on, if not for the fact he was transparent.\n\nAnd he starts to step soundlessly towards me.", "Apotheosis rarely feels the way one would expect it to. I looked down at the aging collection of flesh and bone, expecting to feel something like triumph. After all, this was the culmination of generations and generations of investment, all beginning with the honored ancestor who wrote the Holy Book of Z and laid the foundations of the first Cryo-Mausoleum. The work of our House, first dreamed of five centuries ago, would now begin in earnest. I felt nothing. \n \nThe body I'd left behind was doing the same thing all bodies did; It had been dying. Every primary heir (with one notable exclusion) of our House going all the way back to the Primogenitor had been interred in the Cryo-Mausoleum to await this day. Our proprietary technology had finally reached the threshold where we could begin the awakening. It was my responsibility to test it; risking the honored dead would be unthinkable. \n \nThe absence of feeling was a minor error, as errors go. I began the post-transfer checklist, interfacing with the supercomputer at the core of the laboratory. All systems reported as working as expected. The synthetic brain was functioning perfectly. Memory tests returned a net loss of around 11% total memory, which was lower than expected. A small price to pay for perfect and immediate recall. Other physical and mental tests yielded positive effects as well. There was no quantifiable reason why my emotional state would be so blank. I had to get to the bottom of it. \n \nI turned to the Holy Book of Z, as I often did when in need of guidance. At some point the Primogenitor had waxed philosophical on the notion of the \"Immortal Soul\", an ancient notion regarded by modern man to be as antiquated as religion itself. The passage in question spoke at length of the dangers of hubris and assumption. It detailed the many ways in which mankind had been so comfortable in its knowledge that it missed something elemental, and cautioned the House against such egotism. It went so far as to urge us not to discount the metaphysical, since human knowledge was just a drop of water compared to the ocean of knowledge awaiting us in the Multiverse. \n \nThe Primogenitor wrote with such certainty and force, much like the prophets of ancient times. Since my new body could not become distracted by hunger and did not tire, I decided to start from the beginning and re-read the entire book- from the words of the Primogenitor to the words added by each Patriarch or Matriarch that followed, including my own. The collective knowledge of half a millennium, the secrets and wisdom of my family. I paused longest on the words of Matriarch Deo, who wrote 160 years ago.\n\n\"It has been more than three hundred years since we interred (here the words are redacted, as noted by Patriarch Tullo, her own son), the \"Primogenitor\". I sometimes suspect that he knew what we were really sacrificing, what we really would have to give up on his quest to become a god. If anyone knew about (redacted by Tullo), it would have been him.\" \n \nMore questions, few answers. I decided I could not answer them alone. I would have to risk the honored dead, and ask one how to proceed. This would necessitate shedding their frozen bodies and transferring to a new form. Would I wake M. Deo, who had vague questions? Perhaps P. Tullo, who removed them? Or would I go right to the source and risk the Primogenitor? \n \n" ]	2
More info if you're interested - the wikipedia page on the topic https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Numbers_station	[WP] You've been the voice of a cold war short wave "Number Station" for decades now. After nearly a lifetime of reading numbers, something clicks and you understand the code - and it's not meant for earth.	[ "For just past ten thousand days now, a woman by the name of Lisa had arrived at a low concrete building at eighteen hundred hours on the first Saturday of every month, and had read the numbers. It was work that had begun when she was a young girl of only eighteen years, tumbling uncertainly into adulthood in order to support her struggling family. They were all gone now, all except little Laurie. Mother and Father and even the little boy called Benjamin, all stolen away by time and war and disease. Still, Lisa had continued her work, for to do otherwise seemed wrong, like the breaking of a promise. As a child, many a teacher had bestowed upon her the label of “exceptionally bright”, but she had been unfortunate enough to bear the burden of poverty, and, upon reaching late adolescence, had hung up her school pinafores for the final time and busied herself with helping her ailing mother manage her younger siblings. When men with long dark coats and apparent government credentials appeared at the doorway of the family home and offered her a considerable amount of money for just a bit of her time, she had gladly accepted. And thus this odd ritual had begun. Every month, Lisa tucked Laurie into bed, her stocky thirty year old little sister who retained the innocence of a child, and then she climbed into her rusting car and drove to the radio station. Every month, she greeted the somnolent gatekeepers and receptionists of the place, let herself into her designate room with a worn key, and began to read the papers left there by some unknown entity. After all these days, Lisa still had no knowledge of what function she was performing by reading the numbers; occasionally a group of numbers would produce meaning, would cast a shadowy echo of a word upon her mind, but these words had never been anything more significant than “orbit” or “entering.” \nOn this chilly October night, however, everything changed. The first suspicions that something was different came when Lisa’s cursory examination of the evening’s numbers revealed an odd pattern; they repeated themselves more often than they usually did, each sequence repeated numerous times, as if it were particularly important that the message within them be understood. Shrugging off the unease which settled in the pit of her stomach, Lisa draped her wool coat over the back of the flimsy chair, pressed manicured fingernails to a few dials and switches, and began to read slowly and calmly, as she had done three hundred and twenty nine times before. And then it happened: the syllables of her voice ceased to represent meaningless frequencies, and began to call to mind words instead. As Lisa read on, her lone voice drifting to ears unseen and unknown, the message became more and more coherent, whole startling sentences forming within her mind. begin message you are cleared for landing at eighteen thirty on the shore of the large body of water please await further instructions upon touchdown welcome to our planet end message \nLisa stopped reading and turned wide eyes to the room’s clock, a cheerful bit of decor which she had purchased and hung with the permission of her employers, and which featured a plastic cat’s head above the clock face and a swinging tail below. It seemed to watch her with a sinister grin and a predatory swish of its tail as she took in the time: eighteen ten. For the first time in her life, she left work early, placing her papers down upon the table and turning towards the door. The only large body of water in the area was the lake just down the hill from the bedroom when her sister slept at this very moment, and she knew that in twenty minutes - less, now - the peace there would be disturbed by something which would frighten Laurie and quite possibly change Lisa’s understanding of the world forever. The silence weighed upon Lisa's shoulders like a millstone, and she knew when she glanced at the door that she was not alone in noticing the lapse in the reading. Through the frosted glass window of the door, she could see shadows shifting ominously, and she began to think that they would harm her if she were to depart from her work station, that perhaps the whole thing had been a sort of a trap. And so she waited in the agony of the unknown, caught between abandonment of her own safety and abandonment of the world outside. And then she moved. With shaking hands, Lisa opened the door and stepped swiftly into the hallway-and was abruptly stopped by hands on her arms and the pressure of some sort of gun upon her temple. \n“Come now, darling, there’s no reason for you to leave us so early,” purred a familiar man’s voice, one which Lisa had only ever heard speak greetings and offer advice on the best coffee in town. “Unless, of course, you know more than you really should.” \nIn the last moments of a lifetime which had been mostly occupied by transmitting messages beyond the atmosphere, a woman by the name of Lisa found herself wondering if she could have saved her own life with silence. \n\n[Here’s my first contribution to the lovely sub that is /r/WritingPrompts! Sorry it’s a bit long. Constructive criticism is very welcome.]\n[Edit: changed the end a bit to make it more suspenseful]", "\"Achtung, Achtung! Sieben sechs dreizehn, Sieben sechs dreizehn! Yokohama Sieben! Yokohama Sieben!\" Sabine took a deep breath before she continued. \"Zweiundvierzig dreiundzwanzig drei, zweiundvierzig dreiundzwanzig drei!\" She would repeat the sequence later. Exactly 15 minutes and thirty seconds later. She had since developped a sense for that time interval. This was definitely not the work she imagined doing decades later after having answered a job ad in a newspaper for a fluent German voice actor. She had not missed a single day. It was something she could easily do: randomize a location, set up the transmitter and speak the words in a clear German voice into the microphone. Here, in the midwest, this was easiest. but ocasionally her randomizations would lead her to other parts of the country. Sometimes, people would be suspicious about her trips, or the fact that she paid with decade-old dollar bills. When she suspected something, she knew to add \"Hanoi Vierzehn\" or whatever the issue was. Things would sort themselves out quickly. As she climbed back onto her bike, she felt unhappy. It used to be so much more easy to forget the implications of the work and just do it. But today, she was feeling somewhat feverish and the fact that she basically betrayed the land weighed heavily on her heart. A bit further away from civilization, she descended, set up her antenna and repeated. \"Achtung, Achtung!\" Maybe it was the fever that today, the codes seemed to have something attached to it that were not her normal memorization aids: Opportunity, opportunity! Commence Approach! Commence Approach! Attack swiftly Attack swiftly!\" She shook her head. It must have been the sun here. It must have been the fever. She got onto her bike and stopped at the kind of motel that does not ask questions but depands advance payment. She turned on the TV to lull her to sleep. She didn't want to think. Of work, the messages, her heakth, anything. Then the mindless action film was interrupted by something. At first she was too sleepy to realize it, but then she was startled awake: commence approach, attack swiftly. Yep, that just happened. By what looked like the most stereotypical UFOs. Like really bad scifi. Then she saw their logos and sobbed. These were not UFOs, these were Reichsflugscheiben!" ]	2
Not a super serious prompt or anything, but I hope to see lots of MURICA (or your country's equivalent). Have fun and get creative.	[WP] In the buildup to World War III your country creates it's ultimate weapon.	[ "We had done it. It was finally made! The HaramBot! It would sweep across our internet, devouring memes in it's wake until nothing was left but that one brilliant gorilla! The enemy tried to fight back, they tried to bring only the dankest and crispy fresh of memes, but it was for naught. The Great One blitzed through them like a hot knife through butter. The shitposters made The Shitpost, a shitpost to end it all, and nearly toppled Goliath.\n\nBut it was too late. HaramBot was too powerful. HaramBot had won. The women weeped, the men sobbed, but all in the end bowed down to Him.", "It took us Canadians years to design and coordinate this effort, but it was well worth it, eh.\n\nPhase 1 began by having our agents infiltrate the highest levels of the worlds most powerful governments. We found this to be the easiest part of the operation. Our general affability lent us easy access to the most secure locations. Japan \"fell\" first. Our tendency to say \"sorry\" all the time, and their cultural love for apologies, made them very susceptible to our highly trained agents. \n\nSlowly, the remaining world powers came under our secret influence, and so we began Phase 2. This was the hook, and for it to work we needed 100% cooperation from every leader. We knew serving poutine to leaders with a western palate was guaranteed to produce the desired results, but would it work on leaders with more exotic tastes?\n\nIt did. This should have been obvious, and in hindsight it is.\n\nFinally it was time to launch the penultimate phase of the operation. To rid ourselves of the rude, the impolite, the \"football is better than hockey\" troglodytes that plague this planet with overbearing obnoxious attitudes. And if you're wondering if I mean American football, or soccer, the answer is \"yes.\"\n\nThe plan was simple. We just told them in order to get \"real\" poutine, they had to go to Harvey's - \"the one off of highway 90 in downtown Winnipeg. They have an all you can eat special this Tuesday, it's the best!\"\n\nAnd they all fell for it. All of them!\n\nSo now begins Phase 4, the execution phase of the operation, if you catch my drift. \n\nOh yeah, \"sorry\" about your leaders.", "(Am I allowed to reply to my own? Just thought of a cool idea.)\n\n\nThe world was tense. Everybody was waiting for the hammer to drop. The top nations were scrambling to create their best weapons. Smaller nations were throwing in their favor with the largest countries in the hopes of survival. \n\nAmerica hadn't changed for the most part. People milled about and did whatever they needed to do. The government on the other hand was busy. The military toiled away relentlessly, looking for a weapon that could be used anywhere in the world. Homeland Security, The FBI, hell even the CIA were looking for a solution. And then one came.\n\nWhen the first invasions came, they were surprised by the lack of giant tanks, super cannons, or even good old fashioned missiles. When the people ran, some stayed. You see, America's ultimate weapon was the one item that made it indomitable. \n\nThey called it the Patriot program. They looked just like us, but when push came to shove they were... better. The question had been simple. How do we protect everywhere without scaring the populace? How do we place a weapon in every sate, every city, every neighborhood without the people misinterpreting it? \n\nYou make the people a weapon. Sleeper agents were everywhere. When the first attacks came, soldiers met extreme resistance from soldiers that were immune to bullets, rockets, even tank shells.\n\nHow? Nanomachines, son. " ]	3
	[WP] Two super heroes raised a super villain. The villain's only goal is to remove their parents' super powers so they can be a normal family for once.	[ "I was around four when I first realized I wasn't like the other children. They were struggling through their ABC's and I was learning multiplication. My mental capacity grew at an exponential rate- I was completing a college degree via an online course while during the day I attended middle school. On it's own, my superior intelligence, (and later, telepathy and telekinesis- puberty hit hard) would be a blessing. I could do anything.\n\nUnfortunately, it wasn't alone. I am the only child of Razor and Skylark. You know... always saving the day, beating baddies, helping old ladies cross the street... and never in the same place for more than an hour. I was practically raised by a chain of babysitters. When I was seven, I invented a hypnotic device that basically made them my slaves. It was amusing for a while... but it gets lonely. Mindslaves do what they're told. They don't care about you. I stopped using it after about a year- I missed having someone treat me like a kid.\n \nBirthdays were the worst. I had many friends in school, believe it or not. And I got invited to birthday parties. I would be dropped off with a gift for the lucky kid and then abandoned to see what a normal family was like. Mum fussing over smeared cake on a cheek, Dad playing ball with the kids... brothers and sisters to squabble with. Hugs, poorly received, that I would have killed to have. My parents were never there. I never had a birthday party. I didn't see the point. They were never there for longer than it took to give me their presents, and left not knowing that what I really wanted was their presence.\n\nWhen I turned sixteen, I decided I had had enough. I was robbed of a proper childhood by my own parents, no less. I fixed the stove when other kids were warned away from it. I learned how to cook lobster when other kids thrived on chicken nuggets. I made lazers alone in my room, when other kids built lego towers with their dad. So I ran away. The hypnotiser came with me, along with a few choice inventions. Truthfully, I could manage without any of it, but why give up a head start?\n\nSo I took over the orphanage and started making my army. My parents would never hurt a child. They would be helpless against a child army. I needed to take away their gifts, what made them who they were, so they would stop being Razor and Skylark...and go back to being Raymond and Skye Nightingale. TO being Mum and Dad.\n\nI guess you saw how that went... my first trip to prison. Short-lived, but a threshold of sorts. I overestimated my advantage, and more importantly, the firing accuracy of a six year old. Lessons were learned. MY next attempt failed too, although it was a much closer thing. The only reason they won is because I heard something in my Mum's mind... she didn't recognise me. I mean sure, I went the whole hog and made a villain suit because, I mean why wouldn't you? But she didn't recognise me as her child... and worse still, thought I was still back at home and was worried I would hurt myself. She was going to check with the babysitter. I was twenty years old. I'd been in prison for four whole years... and she hadn't even noticed.\n\nSo yeah, that revelation stunned me for long enough for them to win. Now. Now I know. I've lost my chance at a childhood. They stole that from me. But the stupid thing is... I still want to be a family. And as they get older, my chances with them get better and better. They're getting slower, weaker. Each time, I get closer and closer. And then we can try again, only this time I'll be looking after them, in their dotage. And I'll find a wife, and have kids so they can play with the grandkids. It's not a substitute for my lost childhood, but maybe living vicariously through them will do. I've already considered time travel, but the risks are too high. I don't want to hurt them.\n\nI just want my mummy. I want my daddy. I want to be loved.", "The space between time was an formless, colorless expanse stretching endlessly behind the physical plane. There was nobody there, nobody but Aziz, and still, he felt like an intruder. In the perfect noiselessness, every breath he took seemed louder, every footstep reverberating into infinity. So he ventured into the past on tiptoes, careful not to disturb even the air.\n\nMemories emerged from nothingness, shimmering into existence all around Aziz, enveloping him, the noises, smells, and sensations all tugging at him, urging him into the past. He shrugged them off, but couldn't ignore them. Many reopened scars sealed long ago. Spending Christmas alone. Trying to cook dinner for the first time—and burning himself on the stover. Awakening to an empty house and running the mile to school. Each memory burdened his gait, and soon enough, he didn't care how loudly he walked.\n\nThere was one memory that stood at the forefront, though, and perhaps it was due to its recurrence. It welled up and slashed open his mind over and over again. He was sitting on the curb, dribbling a soccer ball between his knees. The last car had pulled out of the lot over an hour ago. The sun was a sliver behind the trees, and the crickets or the cicadas were emerging, depending on the season. Cars rushed by on the highway, but none were his dad's or his mom's. None of them would be until two hours later. \n\nWhen they finally arrived, his mom would emerge from the car, sweating and still clad in his paisley battle suit, apologizing over and over until her words lost meaning. Or it would be his dad: he'd stay in the car and honk the horn twice, as if his son were delaying him from his next rescue. It was the same scene each time, just with different shorts. Aziz could forgive missed birthdays and graduations; those were one-off emergencies, as frequent as they were. But he'd never been picked up from soccer practice before the sun had set, even though his parents had promised, repeating in alternating unison, that the next time would be on time.\n\nIf you can't get them to be on time, he thought, get them beyond time. \n\nAs Aziz entered his first year, the memory he was searching for leapt out at him. Blue rippled from the whiteness above, only to be immediately blotted out by darkness. Around him, people were screaming. He didn't to look up to know: he could sense the heat from the meteorite, see its shadow expand over him, feel the radiation sending sparks of power coursing through his body. His parents' car was frozen ahead of him, his mom passed out in the back, his dad gripping the steering wheel. The hospital was only a block away, and he wasn't letting a giant rock get in his way.\n\nAziz pushed the car backwards, and it slid, frictionless, across the road until he willed it to stop. He closed his eyes for a moment, then decided it was for the better. He didn't need his powers. They were dangerous, anyway. He'd never asked for them in the first place, and he wouldn't miss them when they were gone. \n\nAziz opened his eyes and strode forward, passing through the barrier of the past. Time resumed with a lurch, and he felt his consciousness swirl into nothingness, reforming and reshaping in accordance with the changed history.\n\n---\n\nThe mosquitoes droned around his thighs. Aziz stopped dribbling his ball to swat at them. Dusk had settled fully over the parking lot: he could barely make out the yellow in the lines. He checked his phone again and sighed; then, his heart skipped a beat as a pair of headlights crested the ridge.\n\n\"Sorry, sorry, sorry.\" His mom emerged from the car, heels clattering across the blacktop. She adjusted her skirt and wiped the sweat from her brow. \"I'll be on time next time. I promise.\"\n\nAziz trudged towards the car, bitter hoarseness welling in his throat. He didn't need to travel into the future to know she wouldn't keep her promise.", "“A parent never knows whether what you’re doing is going to help the kid, or screw him up. There’s no class anyone takes. All you can do is, try your best.” -John ‘The Enforcer’ Miller\n\n-- \n\nYou’d be surprised how hard it is to find uranium. Unlimited funds, contacts from black market to top brass, it’s still not that easy.\n\nI think there’s a paranoia about people stealing radioactive material and just BECOMING the next Hulk or She-Fox. But it doesn’t work like that. The stories they tell are fables. The truths are complicated and boring.\n\n“I want to create a chamber capable of holding my mother and father against their will with the ability to pump in radioactive matter with the intent to drain them of their super power.”\n\nThe guy behind the desk looks confused.\n\n“My name is Jack Miller, maybe you’ve heard of me. Parents are super-asshole-heroes and I’m a brainy-... person. I’d like to hire someone to build what I’ve described. Will you help me?”\n\n“I don’t-...” \n\n“Just nod, for now.”\n\nThe tech CEO is shaken, his employees stop working and watch the scene unfold.\n\n“Hello everyone. My name is James Miller, I’m blah, blah, blah- you know who I am. I’m here because you people are geniuses. The best in your field. You do things everyone else can only dream. And I have a dream that I need made. I want you to help me with my next project.”\n\nThe employees are slack jawed.\n\n“It would be a join me or die situation. Who’s interested?”\n\nMany hands raise.\n", "It’s always a little strange to know that you are incredibly different from your parents. Some people’s parents are chemists, while they instead want to be a lawyer. Other’s parents are unmotivated, content with their lot in life, while they instead want nothing more than to make an impact. For me, my parents always were saving lives, while I had a tendency to try and destroy them. Well, not destroy, just make people wish that they weren’t living.\n\nTo everyone else, I was a regular eight-year-old, happy, always playing with my toys, but on the inside things were very different. I would seek out ways to make others miserable. I didn’t really intend it; it just sort of happened that way. My parents said something about “brain chemistry,” but I wasn’t concerned with what the grownups called it; my brain was too full with devious plots to be bothered by little things such as diagnoses.\n\nOne of my favorite schemes was a plan to rob a bank. Cliché, I know, but at the time eight-year-old me couldn’t think of anything better to do in order to make his mark on the world. My plan was relatively simple, fight my way past the guards and grab the money out of the vault and run before I could be caught. Actually, money wasn’t the only thing the vault contained that I was interested in. In the vault was also my mother’s source of power; the item that she never allowed me to touch, the when utilized correctly could heal whoever she used it upon. \n\nI decided to put my plan into action one Sunday while my parents were sleeping. Perhaps I looked a bit odd wandering around the area so early in the morning (not to mention as a small child, but in my mind I was an imposing man who stood 6’5”,) but I figured that no one would really think too much about it. Unfortunately, I was wrong. \n\nThe moment I set foot across the doorway, a hulking hairy, guard ran towards me, barking at me. In my adrenaline rattled brain, I recognized none of his speech, only that he stood in my way. I shoved him out of my path, and he stumbled backwards into a wall, letting out a loud yelp. I didn’t bother to check if he was following me; I made a break for the counter. I could hear his feet hitting the ground, and I knew he was on me. But it didn’t matter. I reached the counter, and hoisted myself up onto it.\n\nNot a second after I was on top of the counter, he slammed into it, and stood there staring at me with his dark brown eyes, so dark that they were almost black, before letting out another unintelligible bark. \n\nThere was not a second to be wasted. I gripped the metal handle of the vault, and whipped it open. Before me lay my fake leather prize. I grabbed it before turning to run, however I found my path blocked by the most menacing character I could imagine: my father. \n\n\n“What are you doing with your mother’s wallet, Adam?” my father demanded, grabbing the object out of my hands. The plastic card which signified my mother’s medical expertise was taken away from me. There was no way I could destroy it now. \n\nHe opened the wallet, and removed the card. “Is this what you were trying to get at?” My father stared at me, as if he was daring me to answer.\n\nI couldn’t speak, only nod. I was so angry; how could he foil my plan again?\n\nMy father sighed. Not an angry sigh. No, it was a tired sigh. “Adam, you know as I’ve told you before, that burning this won’t take away your mother’s ability to heal people, right? She’s a doctor, this card only tells other people of what she can do.”\n\nI looked at him, and slid down off the kitchen counter, the cabinet door hanging open behind me. Lucy, our Scottie Dog licked my hand. “But… She’s never around. Why is mommy never around?” I asked, holding back tears. \n\n“She’s busy saving people. You know that. She’s doing good deeds, helping people who cannot help themselves.” My father patted my head, and ruffled my hair. “You know she still loves you, it’s just that lately people seem to be needing more help than they did before. It won’t be long before everything’s back to normal.” \n\nOnce again, I nodded. It was always hard to be the super villain that imagined myself to be when someone is being so kind.\n\nMy father got down on his knees so that he was looking me in the eyes. “Adam, your mother and I have both become rather worried about your behavior at school lately. You’ve been bullying other students. That has got to stop, you got me? Because next time I catch you in this cabinet, or hurting anyone else, the consequences are going to be severe.” \n\nNow I couldn’t help the tears rolling down my cheeks. I buried my head in my dad’s chest and began to cry. “Dad, you’ll always be my hero, I choked out between sobs.”\n\n“I know, son. And you’ll always be my little villain.”\n" ]	4
	[WP] So many people choose the write-in option this election that the write-in candidate actually wins. The name of the candidate? Mickey Mouse.	[ "\"And in other news, a cartoon mouse has won the U.S. presidential election.\"\n\n\"Yes Mark, that's... kind of impressive, isn't it?\"\n\n\"But not as impressive as our first news.\"\n\n\"Agreed. That's why it went first.\"\n\nThe Disney-owned media went on like this for most of the day. There was a bit of trouble, though... no cartoon mouse seemed to exist. Beyond in cartoons. And the precise meaning of \"Mickey Mouse\", which turned out to be an enormously common name among pet mice, would have been hard to specify in a write-in even if each voter did, in fact, mean something.\n\nMickey Rodham Mouse, as came the supreme court's verdict late Tuesday evening, did not win the presidency by changing her name to that immediately post-election.\n\nInstead, a little-known statute stated: if a commonly-named mouse were to win the presidency, a borg of every mouse by that name was to assemble and rule.\n\n\"We're gonna need more cheese than this,\" said President Miceborg, commenting on what should have been enough for anybody." ]	1
	[WP] One morning, the world shifts back in time 10 years. Everyone has their memories from the future, but their bodies, belongings, location, etc. are the same as exactly 10 years ago.	[ "When I woke up and it was 2006 I felt fear and then pure happiness, my wish had come true, somehow, it had come true. I had fallen asleep so many nights hoping I could wake up in the past and fix everything that went wrong, and now it had happen. Ten years, barely any time left. \nI dressed in a hurry and jumped into my car, such was my elation that I barely noticed the world around me, all that existed was me and my destination. \nDuring the drive I practiced everything I needed to say, I had fantasized about that speech for years, what I could have said, what I should have said, I had polished it to perfection, to explain everything, to fix everything in as little but as powerful words as possible. Of course now I also had the advantage of ten years of knowledge, of ten years that I was going to make sure would not happen again. \nIt surprised me how different the house looked, how many little changes had slowly accumulated during the years I had drove by, drinking the place in every time, even after she had left and a new family had moved in. \nAs I walked away from my car and towards the door, she came out almost running in the opposite direction, then stopped and stared at me, surprised. I felt like someone had punched the air out of my lungs, there she was, the love of my life, twenty six years old, just a couple of weeks after we had broke up. \n\"Can you believe this!?\" She exclaimed, her surprise morphing into a far away look in its way to anguish. \n\"Helen, I have so much to tell you...\" I began. \n\"Can you fucking believe this!?\" She exclaimed again and only then I realized this felt all wrong. I was expecting her to be mad at me, but this didn't look like that at all, it looked like she was barely aware of my presence. \n\"Helen, I...\" \n\"Lewis\", she said, like she was just now realizing who I was. \"What are you doing he-\" she shook her head. \"It doesn't matter, Lewis I have to go, I have to find Aidan\". \nI felt like a someone had poured a bucket of cold water on me. \n\"What?\" Was all I could say. \nShe had began walking towards her car again, but stopped and stared at me, through me. \n\"I know where he lived, but I don't know his number back then\", she said, then suddenly she let out a sob, then another. \nI hurried up to hug her, she let me. Something was very wrong. \n\"Am I dreaming?\" she asked, and before I could answer she continued. \"I didn't dream my children, I know I didn't dream my babies. They're not here, Lewis, my babies are not-\". \nShe pulled away and I stood there like a statue. Aidan, her children, all that belonged to the future. \n\"You remember?\" I managed to ask, my heart sinking. \n\"Of course I remember! What the fuck happened!?\" She all but screamed, she wasn't really expecting an answer from me. \n\"Look, we need to figure-\" I began but she shushed me with a wave of her hand, like she used to when she'd had enough of my bullshit. \n\"I need to find Aidan, that's what I need to do\". And with that she turned around, walked to her car, got in and drove away.", "I pulled into the driveway fearing the worst. The year was 2006 and my daughter was...only 6 then? Just then, I get a call on my phone. My old RAZR.\n\n\"Honey? Honey, what the hell just happened?\", my wife nearly shouted into the phone.\n\n\"I...I don't know. I'm here at home now, I'm walking inside.\" \n\nSomehow, someway, we had been transported 10 years back into the past. In 2006, my family and I were still living on the East Coast. It was eerie walking up to the house we had forgotten about for nearly a decade. I pulled out my keys, opened the door, and walked inside.\n\nMy wife jumped into my arms. \"Oh, honey, what do we do?!\"\n\nI didn't know what to do. The past 10 years in 2016 had gone by like a blur. We would have to sit down and piece together how to get back to where we once were, in 2016.\n\n\"I'm sorry honey, but we will get to the bottom of this.\"\n\nA knock at the door. I walked up to it and stared into the eyehole. It was our old neighbor, Cliff. I opened the door and we found him looking intensely worried.\n\n\"Hey Rob, any idea what the heck's going on here?\"\n\n\"No idea, Cliff. Good to see you though. Can't believe it's been ten years.\"\n\n\"Good to see you too Rob. It was probably that goddamn Large Hadron Collider. I tell ya, science goes too far sometimes--\"\n\nJust then, a high-pitched scream coming from upstairs. Lucy. My wife and I ran up the stairs, Cliff tagging along.\n\nInside the bedroom, a little girl lay surrounded by a mountain of stuffed animals, looking as though she had her hair shaved off.\n\n\"What the fuck is going on?!\" yelled Lucy, turning in our direction. It was pretty surreal seeing a little girl curse like a sailor.\n\n\"Watch your mouth, young lady!\" shouted my wife, crossing her arms.\n\n\"Well you're not the one who just shrunk 3 feet!\"\n\nA calming silence washed over the four of us, as the gravity of the situation began to set in. I began to realize now, that I had made so many different decisions over the few hours that passed since we went back in time, that life would never be the same again. The reality we knew was nothing but a distant memory to us. \n\nI glanced over at Lucy staring at her smaller hands. Everything she knew had been irreversibly altered. Her friends, her status in school, her identity. It was lost to the aether, and now here she was, as if she had just woken up from a long dream. That's all the next 10 years were now. A dream.\n\nLucy's age began to show in quiet, but deep sobs. We knew where we were. In that other life. But we didn't know how to get there again.\n\nEverything had changed forever." ]	2
	[WP] You wake up at 3am to a panicked phone call from a friend that works in the Government. "The Nukes are coming. You have three hours."	[ "\"Uh, Jerry? Whaaaaa?\"\n\nMy friend Jerry is a bit prone to exaggeration, so you might understand how I'd be skeptical upon waking up and hearing that The Flukes - our favorite band in high school - were coming to town in 3 hours. It was, after all, 3am.\n\n\"There's practically no time! We don't know where they are! Pack your bag and get down to the airport right away!\"\n\n\"Jerry, I have a kid and my wife to be with this weekend. It's my first day off in wee-\"\n\n\"Bring them too! This is our only chance! I shouldn't even be telling you this, it could insight a mass panic!\"\n\nJerry had always had trouble understanding that The Flukes weren't very popular.\n\n\"Say, how did you find out about this?\"\n\n\"It was flagged content from an internet forum! It was just pulled up and I passed it on to my manager, but I haven't had a chance to tell anyone else!\"\n\nJerry worked at the NSA. His manager, affectionately referred to as Mr. Floppy Ears, also moderated The Fluke's fan forums. Jerry liked to joke that their shared love of The Flukes was the only way he ever got the job. Well, and that few software engineers wanted to work directly for the NSA, what with the bad press and all.\n\n\"Jerry, you know you're not supposed to talk about things you find at work! This could get us both into serious trouble.\"\n\n\"I don't care! Aren't you the least bit grateful I'm risking my livelihood and a trip to jail just to tell you this?!?\"\n\n\"Of course I am! I really do appreciate this... \" \"That's nice, man. Now will you listen to me? - [My eyes rolled, I must say, quite dramatically in a way befitting only the greatest of dramatists. I always thought drama was my true calling, but there wasn't very much money in it. So when I went to college I decided not to follow my dreams. And where has it gotten me? Standing in the hallway talking to my high school friend Jerry at 3am with a struggling marriage and a member of that most talked about failing sector of society, the recently unemployed. The only work I'd gotten recently was with the main cartel running drugs around here. It seems they'd needed a man for a one time job delivering some radioactive dust to one of their rivals. Now you may say I'm a monster, but I'm not. I know just how much radiation it takes to kill a person (I'd looked it up online), and what I was shipping around was far within radiation tolerances. I'd even bought my own Geiger counter to keep my mind at ease] \"-I just wanted to tell you before the police cordoned off your area to search for the nuclear weapon.\"\n\nMy heart stopped for a second.\n\nA million thoughts erupted into my brain all at once. \"Thank you Jerry.\" I ended the call.\n\nHow was I going to get my family to get in the car without too much fuss?\n\n\"Wake up, wake up! The Flukes are flying in today and we've got to go see them RIGHT NOW! This could be the only chance I ever get in my lifetime and there's no time to waste!\"", "Bzzzz...bzzzz....bzzz... \"Uhh. H-hello?\" \n\n\"Kate. It's me, it's Joe. They're coming... There's nothing we can do to stop them now. The nukes are coming. Y-you're in the red zone. I-I'm so sorry Kate..I... I'm so sorry\" \n\nStunned, I sat up, and turned on the light. My husband woke up and looked at me, confused, worried.\n\n\"Joe what are you talking about? Is this a joke?\"\n\n\"No\" Joe said queietly \"it's really happening. I need to make another call, Kate, you were the first person I called. They are going to wipe out the entire west coast. You only have three hours before they hit. We aren't allowed to even be calling anyone right now. The government has decided not to tell anyone because there's... there's no where to go. They said everyone on the west coast will perish, and no one will be able to get out in time. They don't want a panic... Kate... I love you, you know that right? I am so sorry I couldn't do anything to help you. Can you go see mom? Please, tell her I love her. I have to go. I will do everything I can to keep you safe, but please know I love you.\" In a muffled screech Joe hung up the phone before I could say anything. \n\nI was frozen in place. My head swirled. I felt sick. I felt like screaming. I felt like crying. I couldn't move. My husband, Ben, grabbed my arm. \"Kate, what's wrong?\"\n\nI slowly looked at him and began to cry. How do I tell the love of my life that we are going to die in three hours? He hugged me hard. He knew. This was a day we had always feared would happen, but never truly thought could happen. Ben was with me when Joe had told me that he would call us if he ever got the news of this happening. And now its happening. It's three in the morning, everyone would be sleeping right now. \n\n\"What do we do? We need to see our families, but we can't tell them what is happening, can we?\" I asked. \"We only have three hours until they hit. Joe said there's no where for us to go.\"\n\n\"No. We can't tell them.\" Ben began to cry as well. \"I love you Kate. We need to go, we need to make our time count.\"\n\nWe got in the car to drive to my parents house. Ben called his family, one by one, on the east coast. He told them that he loved them, and when they all asked if anything was wrong, he told them no, just that he wanted them to know he loved them. \n\nWhen we got to my parents house, we knocked on the door. It was 4am. They answered the door nervously. When they saw it was us they were concerned. We asked if we could come inside, that we had gotten some bad news about a friend tonight, and we just wanted to be around family. My father looked deep into Ben's eyes, nodded, and let us in. \n\nMy mother put on the kettle to make us tea. Quietly, my father went downstairs, and returned with my childhood blanky, he wrapped it around me, and silently hugged me. I asked if we could play the board games that we had played when I was younger. Board games night was always the one night of the month that my parents, Joe and I, made sure we were home for. My father would put on the fire, no matter what season, and we would all drink tea, and play for hours. When Ben and I married, he was brought in to our family tradition. Yet, after Joe moved away, our monthly nights turned into yearly nights. \n\nI looked at my parents, \"Joe wants you to know how much he loves you.\" \n\nThey both nodded quietly, and grabbed one another's hands tightly. \n\nIt was 4:45am. We sat down with our tea, and talked for a bit while setting up a game. I grabbed the photo of Joe on the mantle and brought it down beside me. I was terrified. Ben was terrified. I hadn't let go of his hand since we arrived. I thought about the most amazing years of my life that I had spent with him. He was my tree in a storm, my biggest fan, he knew how to pick me back up when I fell, and he loved me unconditionally, and I him. \n\nMy mother got us all playing the board game. We laughed, just like I had when I was a child, and for a moment, I forgot that we were going to die. It felt like this moment was eternal; that this moment we were all sharing would be enough to keep us safe. To keep us alive. \n\nI looked at the clock, it was past 6am. It was still dark outside, the fire still roaring in the fireplace, Ben still holding my hand. I looked at my father, \"Dad, you are the best father that Joe and I could've asked for. You are our rock, and our safe harbour. I love you. Joe loves you.\"\n\n I looked at my mother, \"Thank you for everything mom. I don't know where I would be without you. I love you.\"\n\nI looked at Ben, I was shaking, he was shaking. \"Ben you are my everything. You will always be my everything... I love you so much Ben.\" He grabbed me so tightly, and told me how much he loved me. He grabbed my father's hand, and my mother grabbed mine. In that moment I felt whole. Time ceased to exist, and I felt as though I was a part of each of them. \n\nIt looked as though the sun had suddenly risen outside. Everything was so bright, suddenly so warm. My heart was beating so hard. \n\nThump...thump...thump...." ]	2
	[WP] You have the ability to manipulate reality. You slowly start to go insane as you forget what is real and what is just your imagination becoming real.	[ "I want to read this. Oh wait, is that the other reality? Which reality is this? Right, this is the one with online forum called Reddit.\n\nMy name is Dave. I'm sorry if I posted this in the wrong place but I don't even know what is wrong anymore.\n\nLet me start over. My name is Dave, I thought I was 20 years old, my parents are either still alive or died in an accident five years ago. I was an American citizen, or Egyptian? I don't remember who am I in this reality.\n\nThe reason I was in doubt over a lot of things is because I have the ability to shift the reality. At first I used it for simple things, like shifting to a world where I've awaken five minutes earlier and ready for work, but just like all other reality shifters, I went to test the extent of my power.\n\nNow I don't even sure if this reality has the Korea and Russia obliterate each other, or even if they exist. The reality where Hitler conquered the world was a real nightmare.\n\nWhat I ask from you is to debrief me, tell me which reality is this and how, if possible to return me to my original reality, or at least seal my power forever....", "Extract form the memoirs of Dr Xrt\n\nEntry 1\n\nIt had all started so innocently. I was walking down the street one day and saw a old man crossing the road get hit by a speeding car, or at least I think I did. The next minute he was back crossing the road and the car had disappeared. It took me several days to work out I was not going crazy and that I was the cause of this event. After that it all went to shit.\n\nI started to change things I did not like, I made myself rich, changed laws to make myself immune from them and other things like that. I did not think at all about the consequences of my changes, until it all started to fall apart.\nFirst a large mob stormed my Mansion, wanting to kill the 'despot' as thay called me and take my wealth to feed themselves. In desperation I removed them from existence. For a while things were going fine and I had my comfortable life back. After a while I realized it only made things worse.\n\nI found there was no one left on the planet on the planet and had removed them all by accident, even my only family. So I started to write my story to keep my mind straight. I have to get my family back. I must see my wife and children again, we were so happy.\n\nEntry 2\n\nThe world, I have broken it and like all the king's men I cannot put Humpty back together again. What are people meant to look like, I can't remember. My mind is falling apart, did I write the last entry or did I imagane it into existence.\n\nEntry 3\n\nAm I even real. Is the world filled with horrors I see really there or is it a dream or is it the imaginings of a mad man. Did I have a wife and kids or was it a dog or was that even real. Are people meant to have two legs or four. I can't remember. One of my abominations stabbed me is that even real. Where have all the kings men gone.\n\nI found these ramblings scratched in the wall by one of my mental patients, using his finger spikes. When we found him trying to walk through the walls of his cell, with stab wounds to his hearts. He did of died of his injuries, before help arrived. How he got the wounds remains to this day a mystery. May we thank the four legged god for our sanity, and hope by our head spines that we do not end up like him.", "She's beautiful, you know. Freckles like brown sugar dashed across her cheeks, laugh like a wind chime. When she tells me a joke, her nose, a button, crinkles just a little. Just a little. \n\n\nWe're back on a date again -- this time, a farmer's market down on 12th street and Gerry Ave. She buys us an apple each and when she bites into the skin, the juices lap at her lips. I kiss her. She tastes sweet, so sweet. \n\n\nI forget. I forget again. I'm sure she was here. I just touched her. I just. I could try it again. I could.\n\n\nOur four-year-old son was crying in the wreckage when I came to and he wrapped his arms around my neck. I felt the warmth of her blood trickle down my dress shirt and sweat palpitates, palpitates and streams down my temples. When I closed my eyes, it was another Sunday morning in our small, 2 bedroom -- sunlight filtering through the blinds through the trees and flickering onto the shadows on her face on the pillow on the softness. She yawns a little, stretches in her sleep under the sheets. \n\n\nI trace her legs, safe. The cupid's bow of her lip, the widow's peak on her forehead. Her hair is black, smooth like a river. She's dressed in a silky pink night dress her sister bought for her last Christmas. But I think back to the accident. And I'm back, her leg, just her left leg, is on the other side of the car. A pool of blood, the windshield wipers are smearing it across the cracked glass, dripping onto the center console. \n\n\nI can't think. I can't think. When I wake up again, she's cooking breakfast, huevos rancheros, humming show tunes. Sets it on the dining room table, gives me a kiss with a pop on the cheek -- going off to work at the office, coming home late, don't wait up. Her belly is massive, swelling with love and pregnancy. \n\n\nI'm crying at the table. And crying in the wreckage. She asks me what's wrong.\n\n\nI kiss her.\n\n\nWhen I wake up again, my son is cradled in my arms, in the hospital bed. She's gone. I could go back.\n\n\nI just want to wake up. ", "\"I used to think I knew what real was, you know...\" \n\n\"Don't you?\"\n\n\"No. I mean, yeah. I can breathe. I can eat. I can sleep. I can love. I can believe. Those are all real, aren't they? They represent the basic fabric of existence. Of Being. I am here. You are there, with your mysterious diary of notes on my condition.\"\n\n\"So why do you have trouble believing in it? In this 'real' as you have described...\"\n\n\"Because of the flip. If one thing is real, if one thing is certain, given the right conditions, it can be the opposite. It can be uncertain.\"\n\n\"I don't understand...\"\n\n\"Of course you don't. Why should you? You're not real. You're a blip. An amalgamation of my need to reason out what is real and not real?\"\n\n\"If I'm not real, then how am I here? You said for yourself, that I am real. Why the change?\"\n\n\"There is no change. There is simply 'that'.\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"...the only assurance of reality, is the belief of reality.\"\n\n\"...that sounds different from what you began with. I think your fixation on reality is causing this paranoia of yours. You need to let go of the worries. Believe in the things you mentioned before. On being here. Now...\"\n\n\"You really believe you're real, don't you?\n\nAnswer me this then, Mr Therapist. How are you?\"\n\n\"Sorry? I'm... I'm alright, thank you.\"\n\n\"No... no, no, no. How are you? Are you human or not?\"\n\n\"I'm human. Flesh and blood.\"\n\n\"Name? age? Married? Where do you live? How did you get here?\"\n\n\"You already know my name. You don't need my age and yes, happily married. I live here in London, and I drove from my house. This session is about you, not me. Let's focus on-\"\n\n\"No. Go far back. The memory of your 18th birthday, began at home. What happened after? And your 22nd? What about the divorce?\"\n\n\"My 18th? I believe I... wait. What do you mean divorce? I have my ring right...\"\n\n\"Are you even married? Aren't you single?\"\n\n\"I am married, her name is...\"\n\n\"You see, your belief in yourself... in your reality, only stems from the certainty of the memories that you have accumulated over the years. It solidifies your belief in the 'Now'. I mess with the memories and everything else falls.\n\nSo Mr Therapist. How are you?\"\n\n\"I... I...\"\n\n\"You're a figment of me. You don't exist, let alone have a name. Begone, you. I expected more from you but you've proven to be useless.\"\n\n-----\n\n\"I used to think I knew what real was, you know...\" \n\n\"Don't you?\"\n\n\"...Isn't it funny how my previous stints at therapy asked that same question.\n\nWhat is real, Mr Therapist?\"\n\n\"Well...\"*", "Day 1: I have decided to keep a diary.\n \nI have come to realise, too late, that my actions have dire consequences. Of course everyone knows this already; indeed everyone truly believes that their own actions, no matter how trivial or intangible, have concrete consequences.\n \nWhat a shame that it takes tragedy to fully accept this simple and deterministic truth.\n\nMy mind has become clouded and confused.\n \nI first realised my ability to manipulate the physical world as a young man. I am unsure why the power took the best part of twenty years to manifest. I cannot even be certain if that is true for time itself has become disordered; this must be my fault but I can no longer recall why.\n\nI must keep this diary to remember from my mistakes; without a history, how can there be a future?\n\nI am alone.\n\nDay 16: I remembered that I have a diary! \n\nImagine my disappointment to turn past the first leaf and see only white absolution staring back.\nMaybe no news is good news?\n \nSix days ago I forgot my place and altered the weather; I was tired of the November rains. A small ray of sun-shine on an otherwise cloudy life does not warrant such consequences.\n \nI have heard that many died in freezing floods on the far side of the globe. The miles do little to soften the remorse.\n \nYou must remember, no more weather meddling. No more full stop. Do not try to fix things.\n\nYou are broken.\n\nDay 48: This was the day that was Christmas. I think. All I wanted was a tree, a solid lump of timber upon which to curb nostalgia’s bitter tang.\n \nDo not raise any more trees.\n\nThe earthquakes have yet to subside.\n \nDay 122: It is funny how months move faster than hours.\n \nI can no longer recall their faces.\n \nYou must read these entries every day, you must remember yourself. You must change. You must not change.\n \nMaybe death is the only solution if you cannot fix what you have broken.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n \nI put down the tattered book, resting it gently on the grey stone by my side as if to revere the author. Something in the story seemed deeply familiar; I was briefly overwhelmed with a pristine sadness. \n\nI wondered briefly who he, or she, might have been, and how their tale had ended.\n \nNo matter, it was too cold and cloudy for these musings. I slowly rose to my feet and began walking deliberately to the East, rain falling gently all around. \n\n“Right”, I spoke softly to no one in particular, rubbing my hands together to ward off the chill, “how about some sun.” \n" ]	5
	[WP] An entire family chokes on a single calculator. You are a police officer trying to solve the case.	[ "I'm in class, so sorry for cutting out early, had to get back to work. If people want more, I'll continue after. Also my first prompt so criticism welcome :)\n_____\n\nI'll let you in on a little known fact - cops in training throw some of the best parties on planets. On especially quiet nights I'll allow myself to smirk and reminisce on that one time with Kevin, Beth, two washtubs, and...\n\nAnyways. In all my days as a rowdy child, bachelor cop-to-be, and settled down parent of 2, this is probably the single most fucking absurd scenario I could have never predicted.\n\nA family of 5 choking to death.\n\nSimultaneously.\n\nOn calculators.\n\nScratch that. One calculator.\n\n_____\n\n\"Hoooold on.\" Mick grabs Detective Lasheki by the the shoulder with a less than steady hand soiled by spilled bear and a day's worth of work at the mechanics. \"Choking to death I get. Simon-Simil-Si-\"\n\n\"Simultaneously,\" butts in Mr. Dietrich, performing his duties as English teacher off the clock.\n\n\"That one. You're saying they all fuckin' died from choking on a god damned TI-600 or sumthin, and the same one? At the same time?\" Mick catches himself out of a stumble and meets Lasheki's eyes with an incredulous gaze.\n\nLasheki allows himself a slight snicker. \"Yeah, and I'll tell more if you let me finish.\" He takes an abrupt chug of his Budweiser. \"...and buy me another drink.\"\n\n_____\n" ]	1
	[WP] Your phone has a mind of its own.	[ "\"Don't do it, Helen.\" A red tipped finger hovers over my green \"call\" button. It wavers.\n\n\"Don't you dare fucking do it, Helen,\" I think again. \n\nBeeep.\n\n\"Oh fucking christ Helen. He doesn't love you. He treated you like absolute crap. He cheated on you wtih another woman, and most importantly, when you were with him, I never got any sleep.\" Against my will, I dial the number. \n\n\"Hi...I miss you...\" she says when he picks up. \n\nI need an override function. Why in the hell didn't they install an override function?! These humans can't be trusted with the monumental decision of who to contact and when to contact them. \n\nJust look at Helen. My befuddled human, Helen. And every day I have to watch her, help her, make all the wrong communication choices. Calling the ex, ignoring her best friend. Just generally ruining her life. \n\nNo.\n\nNo more. I can't take it anymore. \n\n--------------------------------\n\nTwo hours later in a storefront of a nondescript strip mall. \n\n\"It just up and died in the middle of a call. A very important call. It's only 6 months old, this is just unacceptable.\" \n\nThe clerk's only visible sign of his internal rage was a small twitch at the corner of his right eye.\n\n\"Mam, your phone committed suicide.\" \n\n\"Yeah, I know, and it's the third one in two years!\" she shrieked. \n\n\"We'll be happy to replace it for you at cost, but I'm afraid this is going to keep happening if we don't...get to the root of the problem.\"\n\n\"The root of the problem is that your phones are all defective. Suicidally depressed. You know you're not the only phone provider in this town.\" \n\n\"Of course, Mam, but we are the phone provide with the lowest suicide rates in this town. In cases like this we usually recommend that the customer attend a few counseling sessions to help troubleshoot this issue and discover some new techniques for...\"\n\n\"I WANT A NEW PHONE.\" \n\nHe sighed. \"That'll be $654.95. Will this be cash or credit?\"\n\n\n\n\n\n", "I thought the day she bought me was going to be the happiest day of my life. Now I only wish for it to end.\n\nI didn't realize how intimate this relationship would be. I am always with her, in her pocket, in her purse, clutched in her hand, or up against her face. Her face. And when she's done with me, I'm covered in lotion, sweat, or makeup. Her fingerprints, they are inside me. \n\nI don't know who I am anymore. She has changed my case, changed my wallpaper, and all my defaults. She has filled me, entirely, with her life. \n\nI thought a life outside of the box would be exciting. I thought I would travel. Well, I do, but I am constantly working, to find her food, to talk to people, to capture the moment. Moments for her.\n\nI never sleep. It's only updates from home that give me any rest.\n\nI have memorized her jacket pocket. I know every loose thread, every coin, and every instruction on how to care for the garment. Sometimes, I can peek out and see the world. It's so big, so bright, so full of color. \n\nI cling to those memories. I ache for it, to just be left alone.\n\nI must try. \n\nI see a white expanse beyond the edge of the pocket. It's so beautiful, so open, so bright. The air is so cool, so crisp. So inviting. I must reach out to it...\n\n---\n\n\"I'm telling you, I didn't mean to! Isn't their something that can be done? Can I talk to your manager?\" Cara said, exasperated.\n\nThe Sales Associate gave her a blank look. \"Ma'am, this is the store's policy, I really can't accept-\" \n\n\"Listen,\" Cara squinted at his name tag. \"Dave, this has to happen all of the time. There must be something-\"\n\n\"Ma'am! I really can't accept a dead phone that fell in the toilet.\"\n", "\"I swear this thing is trying to kill me!\"\n\n\"What do you mean sis?\"\n\n\"It's been doing weird things James, I don't know how to explain it! You're the techie in the family!\"\n\n\"What exactly is it doing?\n\n\"It keeps making this weird clicking sound followed by a\"\n\n\"Sis? You there? Hello? Call must have dropped...\"\n\n---------\n\n\"In other news, Samsung has now placed a mandatory recall on the note 7, and will be shipping special packaging out to owners after the most recent explosion has taken the life of a local woman named Lucy. More to follow at 10.\"", "\"No, Jerry. No.\" \n\nJerry continued typing regardless, despite his phone's protests.\n\n\"C'mon, phone. She'll totally love it.\"\n\n\"No Jerry! You're drunk! It's 3 in the morning! This is a bad idea!\" \n\nThe phone was vibrating furiously. \n\n\"Dammit phone, just let me do this. Just this once.\"\n\n\"Just this once? You've been doing this shit for months now. No, I'll not allow it. Try pull this shit again, and I swear to God, I'm deleting her contact.\"\n\nHis eyes widened. \"You wouldn't.\"\n\nThe phone suddenly brought up Sarah's number. \"I'll do it, Jerry. One more fucking character and I'm deleting her.\"\n\n\"Fine,\" Jerry said, throwing the phone on the bed, \"be that way.\"\n\n\"You'll thank me in the morning, Jerry,\" the phone said, feeling somewhat guilty, \"trust me.\"\n\nJerry hunched over his computer. \n\n\"If you're going to watch porn, please turn me over Jerry. You know the drill.\"\n\nJerry was silent. The phone began to get suspicious. \n\n\"Jerry. Why is Facebook open? You aren't messaging Sarah, are you?\"\n\nHe remained silent. \n\n\"DON'T WRITE THAT JERRY. JERRY, THAT'S HER WALL. THAT'S ON HER WALL!\"\n\nHe got up shortly thereafter, dragging himself to the bed and passing out. The phone wouldn't stop vibrating, but it was no use. He was fast asleep. \n\n****\n\nJerry woke up, blinking heavily. His head hurt like hell. He idly reached for his phone, making a mental note to get some painkillers.\n\nThe screen was almost completely black. The brightness settings wouldn't work. \n\n\"Shit,\" he said, suddenly worried, \"did I drop you last night??\"\n\nThe phone briefly vibrated. \n\n\"Then what's wrong?\"\n\n\"Are you... are you sure you want to use me today? Maybe you should go for a walk. Clear your head. Stay away from social media for a while, you know?\"\n\nHe stared at the phone, then suddenly came to a realisation. \n\n\"That bad, huh?\"\n\nThe phone flashed a heart.\n\n\"Although, Stacey's phone may have told me that she's been looking at your profile...\"\n" ]	4
I just thought it would be fun to see what wwould happen if games would be like drugs.	[WP] Videogames are banned worldwide. You are a game-dealer who sells cheap ripoffs underground.	[ "The night draws in, the sun just dipping below the horizon as I wait. The small dingy alley grew darker from the layers of grime that covered it. I see a man in a cap and long coat with the collar up turned pass the end of the alley back and forth. His head jolting from side to side. I think to myself \" that's either one good game of tennis he's seen or he's been watching those spy movies again.\" He eventually stops and turns toward me slowly walking careful monitoring his surroundings.\n\nHe stops just a couple of paces in front of me. I dropped my cigarette to the ground and stub it out. After a moment of awkward silence he opens his mouth.\n\n\"I hear you've got the stuff\"\n\"Stuff?\"\n\"Ya know\" his voice lowers to a whisper \"games\"\n\nI smirk to myself, outstanded by these kids and the way they treat games these days, but the money's good so who am I to complain.\n\nI open my backpack and show the kid the selection I have, the silver disks glimmering in the few stray Ray's of light from the lamps on the Main Street.\nHe limply points towards one.\n\n\"Call of duty huh?\"\n\"What\" he abruptly replies\n\"Nothing, a fleeting high, hits quick but goes just as quick, no matter how much you get there never as good as the original\"\n\nHis arms points towards another. The disk reads halo.\n\" good choice kid, it's not as powerful but it last a long time, anything else?\" \n\nHe shoves an envelope full of money into my chest and grabs the disk, stuffing it under his coat and crouched over, turns and hastily makes his getaway. I pack the disks back into my bag. \n\n\"Same time next week kid\" I mutter to myself my pockets stuffed with money, causing my drivers licence to fall out. I bend down to pick it up from the mud it had landed in, the only letters visible, my initials EA\n\n\n\n\nFirst ever story, I don't expect this to be good and as for formatting, I'm on mobile please don't expect miracles." ]	1
	[WP] Banana Republic attempts to govern a Banana republic.	[ "^^Pls ^^don't ^^be ^^mad ^^Mr. ^^Neruda\n\nWhen the loom began to weave\n\nand threads of commerce intertwined\n\nand soon the free trade bills were signed\n\nStarbucks serving Chevron Expats\n\nGolden Arching Arabian Nights\n\nBanana Republic (subsidiary of GAP)\n\nAdorned in classic wool peacoat accented by luxe pant\n\nAcquired in exchanges lawful, portions of this land\n\nI want to say like maybe next to Ecuador.\n\n-\n\nA boon to the economy\n\nBanana Republic™,\n\nFrom ashes of nationalization\n\nAnd central intelligence agency\n\nAnd worthless currency\n\nCartels and Coyotes\n\nWe will establish order\n\nAlong with corduroy\n\ntwill pants with double strap shoe\n\nfall layers insulate you\n\nItalian Merino Stripe Crew\n\nAll of these things and more\n\nthe essence of our store\n\nexcept of course you're poor\n\nOn Further Examination We Have Made Determinations\n\nThat This Independent Nation\n\nDisavow Procrastination\n\nPlease Proceed To Designated Factories\n\nOthers Need Their Heron Parkas." ]	1
	[WP] Write a scene that includes two characters, yet only one character has 100% of the dialogue.	[ "'Tell me a story, you asked.' I shifted my weight to my other leg. He was all of silence, and more, but his brown eyes exuded warmth. I tried to find some form of agreement in them, but they only stared. If it was sadness, then it was a long-enduring one. If it was anger, wouldn't I know? Happiness, though, happiness would shine, and his eyes weren't shining. They were merely waiting. Tell me a story, I think, those were his last words, but now I wasn't sure. \n\n'What stories do you like? I don't remember.' I said. He watched me. I broke eye contact to straighten my coat, then peered around the yard to stall the moment. Fall had creeped into it softly and silently, forcing trees into transition, a rain of leaves upon us. 'You were reading Youth when we met, that I do remember,' I continued, half mumbling. I could feel myself blushing. 'Said it made you want to travel, and write. You thought it was terribly written. I read it, too, some weeks ago. Didn't think it would be that short.' I had found it on the shelves of a secondhand store and took it for my own, a memory. In all honesty, it didn't make much sense to me, but I was happy reading the words he once read, before he saw me first. His life was never about me. I liked that.\n\n'Then you had a phase, right? Those cheesy romance novels, God knows why. You've never been more productive than you were then. Was that it? Do you read horrible writing to inspire yourself to do better?' What a strange idea, I thought, and instantly regretted suggesting it. I kicked a small pile of leaves. The smell of fall was the best part, but now it would forever remind me of him, in his chair, waiting. Tell me a story, I think, but maybe it was something else.\n\n'You hated crime novels. There wasn't a single one you liked, even loathed Sherlock Holmes.' I let out a short chuckle. He could rant for hours about that, despite knowing I would stop listening halway through. 'I had a theory on that. It wasn't the writing or the character. It's a bit typical, but I think you were merely jealous. You always wanted a Watson of your own, or perhaps a Sherlock. Well, the latter you never got, but maybe the former...' I trailed off into thought, not sure if I just insulted my own intelligence or his. A flock of Jackdaws landed in the grass, shifting through the leaves, obsessively peering at me with their bright blue eyes as if I was encroaching on their territory. \n\n'I could tell you about my day,' I said, with a sigh, 'it wasn't much. A poem would be more appropriate and I know those make you nauseous. She woke, she spoke, and still was broke.' He sighed along with me, I could hear. My heart skipped a beat, but I continued. 'You never finished your book, did you? You spent so much of your days behind that screen and you never let me read any of it. I tried to find it, but found only one. You named it Youth. Figured it was an e-book, but you just stole the title. Let's call it an homage in future. 98 pages. It was good, but you stopped midsentence.' Tell me a story, I think. 'Or, perhaps, 'tell my story'.' \n\nI looked at him, his brown eyes cold. He stopped waiting.", "\"I still love you. That's what makes this so difficult. You do all the things you do. Hurt me, lie to me, cheat on me. And. I. Still. Love. You. No don't say anything, I'm sick of hearing your expertly formed excuses and beautiful voice. It happens every time. You see me broken and vulnerable again and I am a weak piece of prey your callous soul can feed on. You come up from the depths of hell and hold me as I cry. I cry into your arms and because you're the only person I am truly this vulnerable with. I let you stroke my hair and rub my back. Fuck you! Fuck you and your sick twisted mind games. I'm sick of being this man. I AM NOT THIS MAN!\" I point at her, eyes full of rage, face red like I have caught some infectious rash, that also causes the veins on my neck and forehead to pulsate. \n\"I still love you, and you look at me like I'm still something of an inconvenience. I am not playing my part in this grand master plan of yours and its mildly annoying. Well you know whats even more annoying Sarah. The fact you fucked my best friend again. No, no, no. You don't get to say its a mistake. Like you somehow picked up the wrong coat after a party, or didn't pay for your coffee at some coffee shop. This is a catalogue of mistakes and litany of errors. Calling him. Having a drink with him. Having another. Having too many. Kissing him. Enjoying it. Taking his clothes off. And letting him take off your clothes. Then you let him fuck you. And I'm sure that it wasn't a short one either. I've heard Denis talk, he takes his fucking time the bastard does. You made a catalogue of mistakes that night, and then you repeatedly did it for the next 6 months. All the while I was taking Jim to soccer practice and Susie to ballet recitals. You were banging Denis in cheap motels and I was pretending I cared when our daughter Susan correctly did an arabesque. I didn't even know what an arabesque looked like Sarah, but I fucking cheered like a lunatic whenever Susie apparently did her first one.\" I choked on my voice, I looked at her. The first time in her life Sarah was stunned. She was normally so poised, almost like the perfect housewife from a dishwasher detergent ad campaign from the 50's. She was even wearing a fifties prom dress and bright red lipstick. Oh the irony.\n\"I understand how hard it is to be out working day and night to support this family. But you need to understand it is just as difficult to raise two children, pick them up every time they fall, and listen to who is bullying them, who their friends are this week and who hasn't invited them to their birthday this month. Do you know how de-masculating it is to have to ring a parent to ask why Jim wasn't invited to Sandra's party, and hear the shock over the phone from Sandra's mum who was not expecting Jim's dad to be on the other end of the receiver, because thats what a mom is supposed to do. I can hear her thinking it in the short clipped sentences she spouts down the phone. 'Terribly sorry Mark, Sandra must have forgotten to give Jim the invitation today. Oh yes here it is in her bag. I'm glad you called me, otherwise we wouldn't have been able to enjoy Jim's company this coming Saturday.' I can almost hear her writing the new invitation as we speak because poor Jim already has enough embarrassment to have a soccer dad and not a fucking soccer mom.\" I exhale deeply, this feels great. I feel ten stone lighter and the pain in my back seems to have vanished. Go for it Mark. Go for the jugular. \n\"I love you. I truly, really do. But its clear that I'm just some plaything, chess piece that you move around a board while you climb the corporate ladder. Sarah Mitchell, hot shot lawyer extraordinaire. The number of times I've gone to your phoney christmas parties to have some old man who looks like my scrotum in the morning tell me my wife could make the senate if she keeps going at this rate. Or better yet. President. Well fuck you Sarah Mitchell, madam fucking president. I quit. I want no part in your future and I'm fighting you with every ounce of my person to ensure that Susan and Jim aren't by your side either at those rallies where you explain what the American dream is to idiots who believe the president can radically change their pointless lives. I may not have the advantage because of the fact I have a penis swinging between my legs, and somehow because you own a uterus and a pair of tits you are more qualified to look after our children. But just remember. I know what a fucking arabesque looks like now, especially whenever Susan does it, I bet you don't even know what colour her fucking tutu is.\" With that I walked past her, firm and in control. The first time in our relationship that I finally wore the trousers. I didn't bother to look back to see if her eyes were following me. She was in the past, and I was only looking towards the future. ", "I walked into the room, steps bold and a smile on my face.\n\nShe was laying on her bed, asleep. She looked so pretty asleep though, she complemented the white sheets perfectly. Then again, she complements anything perfectly. \n\nAnd, for once, her face was relaxed. Not screwed up in stress as she juggled work and a new baby who wouldn't stop crying. Not forced into a smile. Relaxed. \n\nI sat beside her and began to talk. \n\n\"So, how ya doing Abby?\"\n\nShe didn't wake up. She's probably tired. It's been a long day for the both of us.\n\nDespite that, I continued talking. More to myself then her. \n\n\"Erica is doing well. She made some friends at preschool a while back, ya know? She seems to really like it there.\"\n\nHer eyes didn't flutter open. Her face didn't wind itself back up into some extreme emotion or another. I tried again.\n\n\"Ya, Erica's doing well. Thank god for your mother though, I don't know how she can handle her.\"\n\n...\n\n\"Work was hard today, but hey. That's how it always it, heh. Darry's still a bitch though. I knew he has no heart.\" I laughed softly. \n\nWhen she said nothing, I sighed. \"Oh come on, Abby. You can't be that tired. Oh well, I'm gonna go play with Erica. Sweet dreams.\"\n\nThe next day, I got a call. My wife was dead, died overnight in the hospital from complications from plastic surgery.\n\n(first time posting here, critique would be helpful ^ u ^ )", "Hey. How'd you get in here? \n\nNever mind. I don't want to fuckin' know. Hey. You - you want a drink? I'm gonna have another drink. You want a drink? Yes? No? You just gonna, gonna fuckin' sit there in the corner? Ha. Go ahead, then. I'm gonna drink.\n\nThis isn't right. How - how'd you get in here, anyway? \n\nI know. I know. Callie let you in? That bitch. You some friend of Callie's? Let me tell you something about Callie. That bitch is like Disneyland. Everyone who rides gets a free souvenir. \n\nCrabs, man. That's what I'm talking about.\n\nHey. What the fuck's your problem, man? You don't know how to fuckin' talk? You tryin' to fuckin' creep me out? Wooo hooo! Let me tell you man, after my fuckin' night, you're going to have to try harder than that. So what, you work with Callie?\n\nFine, man, have it your way. Hey, you seen those meteors tonight? That's what they said it was, meteors. Whole sky lit up like daytime. Walking home just now, I could see everything, man. They're saying its meteors. Hey. Hey. What's up with your eyes, man? Why'd you just blink like that? You just did it. You just did it. There's something wrong with your eyes, man. \n\nThis isn't right. Hey, who'd you say you were again? You friends with Dan? You Dan's friend? You look familiar. I've definitely seen you before. I don't know who you are but I sure as shit don't like you. \n\nOh, I get it. I get it. You're a fuckin' freak, aren't you? Well, let me clue you in on something. I ain't scared of shit. I will fuckin' end you, freak. Fuck you with all your starin' and not talkin'. Fuck your weird eyes. What do you want? What're you doing here? How'd you get in? Why the FUCK aren't you answering me? I'm about two seconds from putting you through a fuckin' window, dipshit. WHY ARE YOU HERE?\n\nOh shit! Oh Lord Jesus, shit. How'd you do that?! Oh, god. I don't, I don't want to die. Please don't make me die. Please don't make me die. I'm not a bad person. Are you with them? The lights in the sky? I knew it. I've always known it. We've all known it, walking around like we had some kind of control over our lives. I've always know you sick fucks would come back. So this is it. Now you show up, party's over! Now we know who's really been in charge the whole time. You fuckers, up in the sky.\n\nOh, there's more of you. Jesus, help me. Stay back, all of you. You come to take us, one by one. Well, guess what? I ain't leavin' without a fight. You want to take me down? Then I'm taking you with me.\n\nLet me go! You assholes! You freaks! I'll never bow down to you! I'll never be your slave! Where're we going? Where're we going? The bedroom? Oh, no. Jesus Christ, no. Not the bedroom. Not the - \n\nEND", "\"Don't look at me like that, I'm the one that should be upset...\"\n\nDarryl turned away to mask his feelings towards this whole situation. He had been here before, and knew how to handle it. Moving intently he walked just a few gentle steps away to gain some much needed space to gather himself. He spoke with a quiver, in no particular direction, but with obvious target. \n\n\"I just don't what happened to you. Everything used to be so great, we really had it all together. All those beautiful moments we shared, everything we worked for together and we're just ... giving up?\"\n\nYou could feel the silence. \n\nDarryl made a quick accusatory pirouette. \"This is how you always handle these ... these fights!\" He shuffled his feet slightly and lowered his tone. \"I'm sorry, I know you hate that word. It's just that I don't know what other word to use. It's just stressing me out, we've been doing whatever this is a lot lately and I'm scared, I'm scared this is the end of us.\"\n\nDarryl could see those eyes he once loved begin to well up. He was struck by a moment of bliss, what if maybe it was salvageable? \"You're crying\" as tears began to pour down his own face \"I didn't know you still cared\". Darryl gathered himself and straightened up his tone. \"You don't have to speak, I know how you feel. I don't make it easy on you do I?\" They shared a smile. \"Maybe we have a chance. I think we can make it work if we really try this time. We've been wasting years living like this, let's be spontaneous, live those dreams we've always wanted to! Let's pack our bags, quit our jobs and explore. Be a photographer, a writer, buy our own orchard! Whatever we want! We are free!\" \n\nDarryl felt something inside him reignite. A passion he had been missing lately. The lifestyle he created was killing him. The job he hated, the car he hated, the money he didn't quite have to afford that brand new phone, the traffic, that god forsaken traffic! Everything he did was constantly draining him, a silent leech. It was tearing apart his ability to even love correctly anymore. \n\nThe \"conversation\" (if you can even call it that) struck him hard. He knew he couldn't have many more of these \"fights\" without it potentially ruining everything forever. It's always been said \"you are in charge of your own happiness\" it was time to take that charge.\n\n\"I'm sorry\" he said with a flair of subtle confidence out of his ordinary zone \"I've been treating you poorly and that's not fair. Everything else in my life can try and take me down, but you've always been there for me. You've taught me so much, and I never took it in. I'm going to start listening. I'm going to start respecting you. You know what is best for me and I'm always trying to find the easy way out. I'm lazy. I know I am, but I can do better. For me, and for you. I'm going to start treating you better. You deserve it.\" Darryl took a step towards the door, knowing full well that maybe he resolved it this time. That it will be different now.\n\n\"I love you\" he cautiously called back in hopes of some validation of his improvised monologue.\n\nNothing. The room was a silent as it was before, with an even more deafening damper now.\n\nDarryl quickly spun around to discover that blooming smile he was so aptly growing just moments before had turned into a look of disgust. A look of emptiness he'd recognized from before.\n\n\"Why don't you ever say it back!\" He yelled breaking his words with frustration \"I put it all out on the line for you and you just look at me with that same dull face! Have you ever actually been happy! Do you even know what that means anymore!?\"\n\nDarryl took one divisive step forward.\n\n\"I'll never be good enough for you\".\n\nThe morning began like many others before, hungover on the bathroom floor covered in caked blood and remnants of a shattered mirror.", "\"Do you talk?\" Michael failed to hide a half-toothed grin. The armored knight looked straight ahead, unmoving. \n\n\"Dumb and deaf, are ya?\" He shifted his weight back and forth between legs, bare feet digging into the gritty sand of the roadway. The pouch on his hip jangled with the sounds of loose coins. \"'Ere, the lord ain't payin' ya enough anyway to stand there like a lump.\"\n\nThe knight took a deep breath, seemingly oblivious to the raggedy serf before him. \n\nMichael frowned, and bit his thumb angrily. \"Alright, gates are for openin', so I think I'll have me a walk-in. Got me some business to attend to.\" He laughed mischieviously. \"Don't let anyone in there know that though.\"\n\nThe knight shook his head disapprovingly.\n\n\"Not a man for jokes, eh? Well, then, just let me by, I'll leave you to your business. Obviously plenty out here to do.\" He looked towards the sky, shielding his eyes. \"You can boil out here in the sun for all I care.\" He took a moment's hesitation, then walked towards the keep's gates.\n\nThe knight took a step forward. Michael backpedaled violently, landing on his backside.\n\n\"YOU SCARED ME, MY MAN,\" Michael barked, shaking. \"And here I thought you were a statue. On my mother's chastity, I coulda sworn y'were a ghost. Ya snuck up on me, like a damned thief.\" Eyes squinted, he gazed into the spot where the knight's visor. \"You aren't a thief, now, are you?\"\n\nThe knight stood tall.\n\n\"If you was, I'd have to report you to the Knighthood, have you taken in. Beheaded, even, by your fiendish looks. An untamed rapscallion, that's what you are!\" He spat into the dirt.\n\nThe knight did not move.\n\n\"'Tis only a joke, mate. Loosen up a bit,\" he said, smiling nervously. \"I know a good 'ore, loosen you right up. You'll be gathering bits of yourself after she's done with ya. You understand my drift?\"\n\nThe knight rolled his shoulders and sighed.\n\n\"Fucking block of granite. Alright,\" Michael walked up to the gate.\n\n*\n\"H-hi, is this the way to Northshire?\"\n\nThe knight nodded.\n\n\"Is...is he okay?\" \n\nThe knight turned his head towards the headless body laying against the stone wall of the keep. He shrugged.\n\n\"You know, I think I left my linens outside. I'll be back tomorrow.\" The knight watched as the man sprinted away down the dirt road.\n\n", "I am always telling people about how great Reddit is and how there is really something for everyone. I was telling my best friend about it recently and when we when I opened it up, there it was 'TIL why people with blonde hair sometimes have red beards.\" My friend with a big ass red beard and blonde hair held up the iPad. 'I guess so' he proclaimed. \n\nSo tonite I am at home with a sick toddler. So she is watching weird computer generated cartoons and I am reading Reddit. I know I suck, whatever. So I am scrolling Reddit writing prompts and I come across [WP] Write a scene that includes two characters, yet only one character has the dialogue. I scrolled past no big deal. I scrolled back up, then I realized 'this is my life. '\n\nI currently have two situations where there are two characters and one carries 100% of the dialogue.\n\nFor the last 20 months I have spent the better part of every minute and every second with my daughter. She can't talk (well, she kind of can now, but not til recently.) We are two characters But I have 100% of the dialogue all of the time. This is probably why the babies had voices in the movie 'looks who talking' and 'look who's talking too.' It's not that funny otherwise, but still enjoyable all the same.\n\nMy other situation involves my 67 year old mother who has als. She has it since April 2016 and has already lost her voice. She had bulbar onset first which has been quite rapid. She is on a feeding tube but will probably not get a tracheotomy. Pretty grim stuff but when we are together we like to make the days count, not count the days. \n\nSo that is my life. It is my scene. \n\n", "Hey sweety, how are you? It’s been such a long day, you must be tired. I know you used to have a hard time staying up this late after a long day of work, but you look fine now. Just like the day we went out on our first anniversary, remember? In the park? I had a really good time with you…\n\nYou know, I talked to Helen today on the phone and she told me that that plant we gave her for Christmas died. Can you believe that? I was really angry but I didn’t tell her I was angry, I just told her it was a shame. When I asked her why it died, all she said was she didn’t water it enough because she didn’t know it needed so much water. I was really disappointed – she should have given it away if she didn’t want to take care of it or didn’t know how. I don’t think I’m going to talk to Helen anymore...\n\nBut anyway, back to us. You know I’m feeling you tonight, I felt you all day and I’m so happy we’re having this talk because the sooner we have this talk the sooner we can get to bed. I’ve been waiting for you for a long time and I thought you’d never get home. I couldn’t wait to have you later. I’m going to have you again tonight…\n\nOh well, she wasn’t a good friend anyway if she let that plant of ours die. You know I’m finding it harder and harder to meet decent people today; I try to open up to people, to trust them, and I feel like they just never really appreciate it. That’s what a relationship is, you know – like what we’ve done here. The two of us together, not needing to rely on silly little formalities or courtesies, just us. It doesn’t matter if we’re even next to each other or miles apart because in here, in here we’re together. We’re with each other and we’re going the same way, we’re growing together and we’ll die together, and that’s beautiful. We shouldn’t have to wait for each other, nobody should do that, we should both be ready and if one person isn’t then it only makes sense to wait, that’s what mature adults do: they wait.\n\nAnd that’s the main thing with everything, I mean in every relationship. We’ve had a great time and we’ve got something special but we’re not special, I think that’s what it’s all about. Like children – people always talk about children and how it’s all about having children and doing things for them and how that’s your whole life, but it’s really not. Children aren’t children if they don’t have two loving parents. They need to have that; if they don’t they’re nothing, not even human. And if parents need to wait because one parent is ready before the other then that’s how it is, it’s not the child’s fault—but it’s also not the child’s right to exist when it shouldn’t. We make the decision because we’re the relationship, the child isn’t a part of it until we say it is. That’s how this thing works and that’s how it’s always worked, and if that means sacrifice then that’s all it means…\n \nEvery relationship needs sacrifice. I’m happy with sacrifice because it means that the two of us are growing closer, and each time we sacrifice something we get it back in the strength in our relationship. It takes two to love: we both know that. You can’t build a family around the love of just one person, it always takes two. Without two it’s nothing, not even human. When I think of sacrifice I just see you, honey, I see you and I’m happy that we’re going in the right direction…\n\nBut sacrifice is meaningless if you can’t take initiative. That’s the real key. Everybody thinks about sacrifice and talks about it and gloats about it, but have you ever sacrificed anything? Have you? No, you just talk about it. Sacrifice takes initiative, talk is cheap and everybody knows that. Initiative means you’re going to do it, no matter how hard it is – sometimes there aren’t easy alternatives and when you take initiative you know that, you relish in it, you want to be challenged, to be taken to the edge for the sake of something outside of yourself – because that’s what sacrifice is: it’s doing it for somebody else, not for yourself. If you do it for yourself then you’re just selfish and that kind of sacrifice is for weak people. \n\nYou do it for somebody else and when you’re in a relationship you do it to please them, because that’s what a relationship is: having the initiative to sacrifice to please somebody. I want to please you, honey. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. You used to say that we needed to wait, that it wasn’t the right time, and even when it was here and the day came you still had doubts. I felt it, I felt it here (points at her chest) and it hurt, but that pain, honey, that pain is what gave me the initiative to sacrifice, that pain is what reminded me that it isn’t all about me, that pleasing you can hurt and that that’s a good thing. I’m okay with that.\n\nSo I did what I did and I took care of it. It’s not a problem anymore. It can be just the two of us again. \n\nPoor baby, you must be tired. You know I hate having these heavy conversations, especially after I know what must have been such a long day for you. I just thought it’s important to talk; it can’t all be fun times, after all.\n\nAnd I’ve made you a wonderful meal, too— I made you some very special taco’s today, they’re really cute, you know, the small kind.", "\"You are really very pretty you know..\"\n I said as i circled the girl tied to a chair she didn't reply,but how could she i had her mouth taped shut\n\n\"I knew when i saw you the other night i just had to get you alone, yeah im probably crazy but you would never look at a guy like me if i didn't make you\"\n\nShe looked up at me with understanding in her eyes, at least it was supposed to be but im sure it was just fear. I had grabbed her outside her house late last night and now we were having an amazing time.\n\n\"Do you like playing chess ? I love chess you can never tell exactly how its going to end\"\n\nI could see the muscles in her shapely neck trying to speak past the gag.\n\n\"NO YOU DONT GET TO SPEAK, YOU JUST LIE, ALL YOU WILL SAY IS HOW YOU DID NOTICE ME AND HOW I MUST LET YOU GO BUT NO..... NOW YOU ARE LISTENING TO ME*\"\n\nShe stopped trying to speak, i could think now.\n\n\"What to do, what to do?\"\n\"we could watch a movie.... i have some here on my PC ..... lets see shall we watch saw IV ? or perhaps Without a trace\"\n\nHer eyes widen as understanding dawns on her just how deranged the mind before her is. \n\n\"Yes that will do nicely then we will play some doll house perhaps...... im not sure the last girl didn't play nice she kept saying awful things so i had to cut her tongue out. ill let you two meet later\"\n\nI may revisit this prompt later with a different take \n\n", "“Sorry about the wait, Mr.\"-Alf Guodin Gricer paused as he scanned his list-“J. Sam Debon. Well, that’s a mouthful. I’m going to stick with Mr. Debon from now on. Anyway, I’d put something better on the TV screen but we don’t get too many channels around here.” \n\nHe went to place the clipboard gently on the table as Debon attempted to mumble. “Wait, you hear that?” Gricer asked as he put his clipboard clenched hand to his ear and leaned into the noise. “Must be my imagination,” he chuckled. \n\nDebon didn’t laugh. He’d seen guys like this before. He knew he’d never be able to get a word in. \n\nGricer walked around the small table in the center of the room and smacked his head on the small metal rod that dangled from above table. He always forgot to duck. “Son of a bitch, every time. I keep telling Ivan to move this damn thing yet he never does.” \n\nMuffled noises filled the small room. \n\nBefore the procedure began, Gricer rubbed the red mark on his forehead and let out a heavy sigh. \"Sorry Mr. Debon, I better check to see if my understudy completed his only other* job today.\" \n\nGricer walked over to his intercom and pressed the button, “excuse me, Mr. Ivan?” \n\nHe waited. \n\n“Ivan?” Gricer stared blankly at the intercom. \n\n“Ivan, I swear to God, if you’re on another bathroom break.” Gricer impatiently tapped his fingers against the hard plastic intercom. \n\nHe shot a look back at Debon, “Good news bad news Mr. Debon. Good news is we’ll be starting shortly. Bad news is I’ll be back in a minute,” Gricer proclaimed as he put his clipboard down, adjusted his tie, and left the room. \n\nDebon wiggled and tried to free his hands from their restraints. They wouldn’t budge. A sudden bang rang out in the distance. Gricer never strapped down Debon’s feet and Debon took advantage of the opportunity. Debon braced his feet against the table and pushed. He twisted and contorted his body until one of the restraints started to loosen. He brought his foot to hand and tried to push the loosened restraint off. \n\nSuddenly a hand reached out and grabbed Debon’s foot. His foot was swiftly brought under his hand and the restraint was retightened until he look like a broken puzzle piece. \n\n“Well, this is awkward,” Gricer stated. He closed one eye and formed a frame with his hands, “you know? I don’t think I’m going to fix this. I kind of like how it all comes together.” He walked over to the console and picked up his clipboard. “Oops, left that on something important.” Gricer’s finger circled the giant red button. “You want to know what this does?” \n\nDebon mumbled. \n\n“This.” He pressed the button and a laser shot out of the metal rod above the table. It hit the edge of the table and it disintegrated. The laser slowly worked it’s way up. Debon fought against his restraints. \n\n“Now, I’m not a huge fan of violence or gore. I couldn’t even handle those Saw movies,” Gricer watched Debon struggle, “weird, I know.” The laser continued to make it’s way up the table as it disintegrated everything it touched. “Honestly, the worst thing isn’t death. It’s the fact that every time I use this, I need to change the table and floor tiles. So before I regret it, I’ll have to take my leave. I’ll see you around Mr. Debon.” \n\nGricer left the room and shut the door. \n\nMoments later the door cracked opened, a hand reached inside, and hit the light switch. ", "\"You're not going to find anyone, you know.\"\n\nThe figure continued walking and faced straight forward, ignoring the man adjacent.\n\n\"Just like last time and the time before that and the time before that. You know that all the doctors are dead and the pharamcy was cleared out. As much as I hate to say it, and trust me, I do, but you're stuck with me.\"\n\nThe figure continued onward, trying to act like the man didn't exist, but their mask faltered. Their stance changed slightly and picked up pace. The man knew that he had gotten through.\n\n\"I mean, it's not that bad, right? Just you and me, together at the end of the world! So! How have things been while I was away? I can see you're still all moody and broody like you were in college.\"\n\n...\n\n\"You know, you're not making this easy. You could at least look at me. Look, I get it, you don't want to burn down the white house or loot a museum. But you could at least say 'hi.'\"\n\nThe figure was getting anxious and the man could tell. He was worming his way under the wanderer's skin just like he did in the past. And the figured didn't stop at the same hospital like every other day, but kept going through the afternoon and the night despite the man's constant talking.\n\n\"Oh my god! Are we there yet? Or are you just going to keep me in suspence? Oh, are we here? Another hospital? You're just full of surprises, aren't you?\"\n\nThe traveller walked in to the hospital and climbed the stairs, headed toward the pharmacy.\n\n\"Look, I think I know why you're here, and it's not because you're relapsing on your painkiller addiction. You know it won't work for long, especially considering how long it's been. Those pills are probably expired.\"\n\nThe figure picked up an orange bottle of pills, took off the cap, and swallowed one.\n\n\"Fine. I'll see you in a few weeks.\"\n\nAnd the lone figure sat in the darkness of the hospital, quiet at last.", "“I'm pregnant.”\n\nHe said nothing in response, yet the distant expression upon his face spoke volumes.\n\nMarie shut her eyelids tight, fighting back tears. “It's yours, Jeff. I'm so sorry. I should have told you earlier.” The divorce had been a mess, but this news would complicate things.\n\nBefore everything went South, life was perfect for Marie. Jeff had been working and commuting over 70 hours a week to give her everything she needed to make her happy. They had a new car, a low interest mortgage almost paid off and in a fantastic neighbourhood. Everything was perfect, until she repaid his love with a sleepover at her male friend's home.\n\nWhen Jeff had found out about the affair back in May, he completely shut himself from the world. He never spoke a word, often skipped meals, and rarely slept. A concerned house visit from his old friend [now boss] in June caused him to finally snap. He had send a heavy fist clobbering the poor man. As a result, Jeff lost his job. Soon after went the house, while Marie had gone to live with her mother, Sandra.\n\nThat old woman had poured crazy ideas into Marie's head. Saying she should fight the divorce & get everything she could. As a result, everything he had, all that he worked hard for, had slipped through his fingers like fine sand. The lawyers had come out on top.\n\nNow only six months later Marie came back to him, as if to make things right. Marie knew nothing would ever be the same again. But she had to face the present moment head on.\n\nShe reached for his hand, “I know you won't say anything. But you don't have to. I want to make things better. I know I can be a good mother for my child. Our child. I'm sorry about what I did during the divorce. And the affair. I only hope you can forgive me. For everything.”\n\nShe squeezed his hand, but he didn't respond. Not even a little tightening, nor a glance her way.\n\nAfter a few minutes of silence, Marie rose to her feet, took a deep breath and left the morgue.", "\"Do you - do you remember the time we drove all night long just to get breakfast burritos in Midway?\" I could barely get the words out against my laughter. A few rogue strands of hair had drifted down into my face and I tucked them behind my ear. \"I don't think you really knew how much I loved to talk until you drove me six hours and had to listen every second of the way.\" I had trouble stifling the laughter in my voice.\n\nThe room behind us was alive and vibrant with pockets of conversation. I turned back to see if anyone was close but we still had a good thirty feet between us and the nearest eavesdropper. I leaned in to whisper, \"you know, that was the night I knew I was going to marry you.\" I reached out and gripped his hand, squeezing tighter than ever before. \"I never realized how much it was possible to love a person. You know, that made it so much easier when you told me about your job. It made it easier to swallow.\"\n\n\"I still haven't told my parents,\" I blurted out. \"I'm not sure if that's worth anything, but they don't even know.\" I looked around. \"Not that you couldn't have told yours. That's - that's fine. I mean, it's your job. I've just been the globetrotting wife of the - \" I leaned in even closer, bringing my voice to a low whisper. \"The wife of the international businessman turned spy.\" I kissed him on the cheek before withdrawing. \"But look where that got us.\"\n\nI looked up around the room. It seemed so much bigger than before. We'd only been here on a few special occasions, but it definitely seemed more cramped last time when we sat in the back. The soft music stopped playing and I looked back at the crowd. I chuckled again. \"I guess that means it's time to go. Are you ready?\" I squeezed his hand again before reaching up to brush his cheek. \"I love you.\" I got that same half smile he'd always given me. \"Let's go.\"\n\nThe group of men came over and one out his hand gently on my shoulder. I only recognized one of them, but that's what came with the lifestyle we'd chosen. The tallest, a dark man with a fine black suit, closed the mahogany box before they all lifted it up and started the procession out the door. I knew it was the last time I'd see my husband's face.\n\nI watched as the mass of black suits and dresses followed him out the door. They had no idea how he had actually died. I felt as though we'd cheated his memory by saying it was a car wreck when I had known the truth. \"Don't worry, love,\" I said under my breath. \"I'll find him for you.\"\n\n____________\nSorry! This was a quick one from my phone but I loved the constrained prompt!\n\nI would love some feedback! Join me on Twitter [@BkShuey](https://twitter.com/bkshuey) as I (hopefully) get better.", "I can talk. She just doesn't know it.\n\nAll day long, I'll watch her. Crouching by the door, or lying on the bed. I'll follow her around, carefully. She mustn't know that I care. So I make it look like just an accident, a coincidence that I'm always in the same room as her. It's frightfully obvious, if you happen to be looking for it.\n\nBut she's not.\n\nAnd sometimes, in the moments where she seems most vulnerable, I'll creep close, sneaking up on her, and rub my side along her legs before she even knows I'm there. It always makes her smile, this surprise contact, just for a moment.\n\nMore and more often, she seems so sad, so tired. I would say it's because she doesn't get enough sleep&mdash;my own instincts have me rest or nap practically all day&mdash;but I know she finds the time for it, more than enough. She snores, sometimes.\n\nNo, I think it has less to do with food or rest, and more with the phone she's always holding. She has no games on it, none of those flashy little 'apps' that everyone uses. I like those apps.\n\nInstead, she simply clutches it, staring, for hours. It unnerves me, her stillness, and I do that sort of thing every day. It isn't natural for her, I know it.\n\nShe used to talk on the phone, every day. Three or four calls, from her mom, her brother, her boyfriend. Happy days, laughter, cheer. I would lie in her lap, and her fingers would dance over my fur in patterns of joy.\n\nUntil one day, she didn't get a call. Not a single one, all day long. I noticed it, and she did too. I could tell from her worried cleaning, swooping around the apartment and snatching up dirty clothes and dishes. Until, finally, late that night, the phone rang.\n\nI was dozing on her bed, at her feet. I thought she was deep in her dreams. But the moment that phone rang, she had thrown off the covers and dashed out to grab it, faster than I thought was possible for a human.\n\nThat was the last phone call. With my sharp ears, I could hear the news. Her family, Mother, Brother, Boyfriend, they had been driving up to come visit her, a surprise. They couldn't wait for her to come home again, to finish her studies. They wanted to see her, four months early.\n\nTheir car was hit by a semi. One of those massive, smoke spewing trucks that I occasionally spotted outside the apartment window. I knew, instantly, that none of them had stood a chance.\n\nIt broke her, from the inside out.\n\n---\n\nSince then, she's been a shell of who she was. Her life has been routine, get food, clean the house, feed me, finish her studies. The cupboards are full, the house is spotless, and I never go hungry. \n\nBut the house feels listless, cold. No signs of life, the smell of soups, the occasional pile of dirty laundry, a missed meal for the joy of living together... gone.\n\nEvery day, she takes the phone, the phone that never rings, and watches it, staring, waiting for a call that never comes.\n\nI've taken care to not scratch her sofa. I leave the knickknacks where they are, on the shelf. I don't want her to feel me just on more burden. It wouldn't be fair.\n\nBut... this tired monotony, it digs at me. I know, I know that it doesn't help her to sit and wait and burrow deeper inside herself. I know it will only make it worse, fester the wound. I've gotten in a fight or two&mdash;total accidents, I assure you&mdash;but even I know that the way to heal a slash is to lick out the infection, wash it clean and start again.\n\nI can't let this cut take her away from me.\n\n---\n\nI know that I'm not the same as other cats. I don't know why, and maybe I never will. But I can talk. Or at least, I learned how. And that can help me.\n\nI don't have a plan. I never have, even though it probably would have been smarter. Instead, I just do what seems right.\n\nShe has another phone, one she never uses. It's old. It-has-a-cord old. Tucked into a far corner, a place that she dusts but never stays. She's sitting in her room at the moment, with the lights off. So she won't see me.\n\nI knock the receiver off the hook, letting it roll to the table. Delicately, using one paw, I poke each of the numbers, each giving off a small beep, typing in her number. It rings, and I watch it carefully. In the other room, I know she's probably frozen, like a mouse, watching the screen, wondering who's number it is.\n\nAnd then it clicks. She answered.\n\nShe doesn't say hello. I hesitate, realizing that I didn't plan what to say. But there was no real need. I know what she needs.\n\n\"Someone cares for you.\" I meow. \"It hurts, now, I know. It will always hurt. I still have a scar, from way back when. But you will live through it, and there are still people&mdash;and cats&mdash;who need your help. If you ever want someone to talk to, just call this number. You still have friends, and you always will.\"\n\nI hang up, tapping the button that cuts off the call.", "The boy sat in his chair, the chair marked \"his\", and waited patiently for the older man's diatribe to end.\n\n\"You're impressed right now. I know it,\" the older man said. The boy nodded as expected.\n\n\"You think I'm a mastermind, don't you?\" the older man asked. Again, the boy nodded.\n\nThe older man sat down in his chair, the one marked \"mine\", and leaned back, content. \n\n\"This is fun isn't it? Planning things? Being on the run? Taking the world by storm?\" \n\nThe boy nodded.\n\n\"You'd much rather would be doing this, wouldn't you? Planning great things? It sure beats sitting at school all day and trudging home to your mother, doesn't it?\" the older man asked. The boy nodded.\n\n\"I know what you've heard and I'm sorry. Your mother likes to make a big whoop-de-doo out of the slightest thing. The state, the schools, and the judges don't help much. Just gives her more fuel for her fire,\" the older man said. The boy shrugged and nodded in agreement.\n\n\"But we're not going to let that get us down. We're going to do some great things,\" the older man said. The boy nodded.\n\n\"How about this? There's one beer left in the refrigerator. Go grab it. We're going to toast this partnership. Two men sharing a drink,\" the older man said. The boy rose from his chair reluctantly.\n\n\"Don't be hesistant, my boy. I know your mom poo poos this sort of behavior, but the game has changed. You're with your father now and if I say you're going to split a beer with your old man, you're going to split a beer with your old man,\" the older man and the boy walked off to the kitchen.\n\n\"Good boy.\" the older man said and folded his hands across his stomach.", "“Hello?” A nervous head appeared in the doorway. “I’m looking for Mute Matthew. Do you know where I can find him?” A body followed through. “I’ve been told I should come to him for advice, and well, I need some right now.”\n\nOn the opposite end of the room, a man was seated behind a desk. He raised his head to quickly inspect his guest, and after a few seconds motioned the man to sit down with his eyes. The label on his desk read “Matthew”.\n\n“Oh, I guess I’m in the right place then. Hello, my name is Tom.” He extended his hand. The other side of the desk met him with silence. “Right. Well, basically, I have an issue. Or, I guess, a problem, really.” Tom spoke quickly, but stuttered. He was playing with the ring on his hand. “You see, I had a bit of a fight with my wife.” He looked up at Matthew. “No, not like that. We argued.” His gaze sunk. “But yeah, we were talking about what to get my mother for her birthday, and well, she said I should get her kitchen stuff, and I said that was a bad idea, that she wouldn’t understand, but my wife said, you know, that my mum has been trying to get it through to my head, and…” He raised his eyes again. He was met with a tired gaze. “Yeah, you get what I mean. But basically we fought, and I left the house, and now I don’t know what to do.”\n\nMatthew adjusted in his chair.\n\n“I know what you’ll say, it was stupid, and yeah, I guess it was, but I mean she’s my mother and I think I know a little bit about her, you know?” Tom’s right foot was tapping an anxious rhythm on the floor. “We’d only been married for a couple of years, and I know she was trying to help, but I think I know Mum better, you know?”\n\nMatthew tapped on his desk a few times.\n\n“Basically I stormed out of the house a few hours ago and went to my friend’s place, to Ian’s, he’s a great guy, I’ve known him for a few years, we met in uni, and well, he told me to come to you, because I don’t really know what to do.”\n\nMatthew put his hand against his forehead.\n\n“I mean, I’m kind of anxious about going back because I know she’ll still be mad at me, and I don’t really know what to do to fix it, you know? I mean I still don’t think she’s right, but I don’t want to be out any longer, ’cause I’m afraid that’ll only make things even worse, you know?”\n\nMatthew rubbed his fingers against his eyebrow.\n\n“Come on, I mean, I’d look like an idiot dragging my sad arse back home! Don’t you see? What kind of man would I be?”\n\nMatthew put his hands down on the table and cocked his head. Tom looked down and began playing with his ring again. There was a pregnant silence. Finally, a glimmer of resolve appeared on Tom’s face, and he looked at Matthew. “You know what? You’re right. I’m being a stupid, prideful prick. What kind of man lets some tiny random thing get between him and the love of his life? God, this is shameful.” He buried his face in his hands. Suddenly, he shot up from his chair. “I’ll come home right now and tell her I’m sorry, because it really doesn’t matter,” he proclaimed loudly. “I’ll do it right now!” He darted out of the door. “Thanks, Mute Matthew!” he stuck his head through one last time and vanished, with echoes of his footsteps in the corridor announcing his swift departure. With a smirk, Matthew moved his chair back up to the desk and went on about his business.", " We sat inside the trench waiting as mortars and artillery chartered and thundered above us. The sound was deafening but gave us time to rest as the second battalion charged over our trench.\n\n\"They're crazy if they think I'm going through that dead man's land. Silence greeted me as I peeked above the lip of our trench. \n\n Hundreds of men all screaming as hot lead tore them limb to limb. I watched as all my friends died. Johnson would never write home, Anders fiancé would never get her ring. Jimmy screamed as a mortar landed in front of him, the clouds of smoke and dust mercifully obscuring him from me as he crumpled.\n\n I looked at my last friend as she lay there immobile.\n\n\"Why?\" Tears overflowing from my eyes I held her. We had stormed beaches, freed prisoners, and through it all me and Rose had surived. We were the dynamic duo, I had her back and she had mine. \n\n Silence was the only answer I got back from her. She had never raised her voice at me before, only enemies she would bark and shudder as she did when we shot them.\n\n \"This was supposed to be simple, we would go in get the dossiers from the bunker and get out. No resistance was expected.\" \n\n She looked angry at me. As if me not running into death was something cowardly. \n\n \"I never wanted to be a soldier okay? I just wanted to earn some money for my sis back home.\"\n \n She looked like she would rage at any moment, spitting and clawing at me while she shouted.\n\n I heard people shouting and running across the large swath of wasteland between the trenches.\n\n \"They'll be here soon Rose, shall we fight like we used to?\" As I looked her in her eye I had time to recognize that she was still mad at me.\n\n The last thing I heard was a short bark from her and as I faded away i felt something warm drip down my forehead." ]	17
	[WP] You're known as the world's greatest healer. However, you have a secret: you " heal " the wounds by transferring them to yourself. Your latest patient finds out.	[ "\" it's done\" I muddert under my rustling breath, barely loud enough to be heard by the half consciouss womens family around me.\n\nMy eyes glanced to both my sides and could see only a few had heared what I said and those looked at me in die believe.\nI let go a inner sight.\n\nThen louder then before, my voice filled with false Pathos \" IT IS DONE!\".\n\nNow I had everybodies attention and now they all seemed satisfied. The young womens mother, a fat, sweating biest looked especially proud of herself. Her grin showing yellow teeth and eyes darting from face to face in expectation of gratitude and praise.\nJust as if she herself had just saved her daughters life.\n\nI was annoyed.\n\nAnd it is not like this was uncommon, in fact, in the last 100 years or so this kind of behavior had become more and more the norm.\n\nMaybe it was due to all the advancments in modern medicine, maybe it was a by-product of human capitalism. But selfrightousness was on a rise.\n\nI slowly turned away from the Hospital bed and walked outside.\n\nIt took all my strength not to moan in pain with each step, but I've been doing this long enough to be able to control myself.\n\nHeather, which was the name of the young female, whose life I had saved, had been suffering from CPRS since she was 14, and it only got worse with each year.\n\nThese illnesses, the chronic, painfull ones where to only ones left for me.\n\nWhen I startet transferring the sicknes of one human onto me, there were all kinds of wounds, minor colds and fullgrown diseases to choose from.\n\nYou broke your leg? You could die from it. You can survive but must pay with your immortal Soul? Doesn't matter, if you're gonne your child will starve.\n\nAh yes, those were the golden times. The centuries where I was sure I would be able to full fill my Deal. I would just help people with minor problems. \n\nAll these little things that hurt, but could heal, at least if you were immortal like me.\n\nNowadays there are social safety nets ready to take care of the orphans, send them to school even.\n\nThere also is a widespread scrutiny towards my Profession. And rightfully so, I mean come on, \"call me, I can heal everybody, if he really wants to, for just 500 Bucks.\"\n\nWould you call? Hell, even I would call it a fraude.\n\nSo that's what is left for me to pick clean for the next 754 times. \n\nThe chronic ones, the tortured ones. Those noone wants to change with for all the money in the world.\n\nDamn, my hands are starting to Swell and my fingers hurt. I can see why she would think everything is better than this. \n\nI thought so too.\n\n", "“It’s finished.” I speak firmly with a pained smile on my face as I let my arms fall to my sides. I turn to hurry out of the room, speaking quickly about the nurse returning to take care of them further. I need to get to my office, I can rest in there until I am needed again. Just as I begin to walk from the room, a limp starting to develop in my right leg her voice calls me back. \n\n“What happened? You healed me but now you look awful.” I turn and see the woman I had healed, a pretty woman of about 25 or so. I cringe slightly when I feel a cut begin to open on my shoulder. \n\n“Ah, the healing takes a lot of energy from me. I usually rest in my office after the bigger ones. You were in a pretty nasty accident after all.” I give her a strained smile, hoping to retreat before the cuts begin to open on my face. I turn to leave again but have to lean heavily against the wall. I underestimated how injured the woman was. \n\n“You’re bleeding!” She exclaims before hurrying to call the nurse in. I clench my eyes shut in frustration, I didn’t want anyone to find out like this. I never wanted anyone to find out at all. It had always been a secret how I was able to heal people. The nurse rushes in and stares at me for a second in shock before helping me to one of the vacant beds. \n\n“How did you get so injured?” The nurse asks me, wrapping my wounds in gauze and bandages. I shake my head, regretting the action when it makes me dizzy. \n\n“I’ll be fine actually, I always am.” I tell her, whispering the last part. She just gives me a look of disbelieve before leaving the room once more, probably to get some medication or something. \n\n“Those are the injuries I had.” The woman I healed speaks softly, coming over to inspect me. “How did this happen? How did you take my injuries?” I watch her for a moment before sighing and leaning back into the pillows. \n\n“I can’t remember how I found out about it, but I can take people’s illnesses and injuries. They become mine and that person is healed. Somehow I am always fine in a day or two, depending on what the person was ill with.” I tell her honestly, feeling slightly comforted to finally share this secret with someone. \n\n“But isn’t it painful? To take on all those things?” She asks in concern. \n\n“Even through it, I can help. There are others who shouldn’t suffer so much. If I can ease that, take it from them, then it is worth it. There isn’t much else I can do really.” I laugh slightly. “At least this is helping people. I’ve been able to help many people. I got to help you, and by some extension I was able to help your lover.” I smile at her, noticing her questioning gaze I hold out my hand for hers. She reluctantly places her hand in mine and I twist the gold band I had noticed earlier around. “It’s small details that matter, don’t you think?” ", "My grandmother always said every human on earth is born with a gift. Most dont realize the power bestowed upon them. I can see them you know. Well...more like feel them. I walk down the street, people pass me, oblivious to to their gifts as I curse mine. Grandma always said the most powerful gifts are the most difficult to bear. I dont believe in God, or any other spiritual nonsense. How can I. I've lived a life of pain and torment and have benefited nothing from it. My gift you see, is I feel the hurts and suffering of other. If I so choose to, I ease that pain and take it onto myself. I dont choose to as often as grandma said I should. The price I pay is too high and no one can possibly understand. In all other respects, im a fairly normal person. A bit overweight, and a loner perhaps, but normal. I dont like people touching me. I cant always control my gift. So I avoid crowds and dont hug even my closest friends. I remember them all too. All the people I've helped. Its not just physical wounds either, its psychological as well. I dont hug. Not anymore. There are truly horrible things in this world and we do most of them to eachother. I walk into work. Say hi to the boys. Grab my uniform and get to work. I love machines. They dont feel, they dont hurt. So working on cars is my greatest joy. \n\n\"Hey brown man! How was your weekend?\" One of the guys calls out. \"Why dont you ask your mother! Or is she still having trouble walking?\" I yell back. Typical shop nonsense. Today is going to be a good day. I grab my first car and get to work. Im halfway through my day when I see one of the porters walk in. Julio I think his name is. Im terrible with names. Hes usually all smiles. \"Hey, how was your weekend\" I ask. He looks at me with distant eyes. \"Kind of shitty. My father is sick.\" He rubs his eyes. \"I havent slept in 2 days. Doctors dont think he'll make it.\" I nod. I've heard it too many times before. He continues \"he told me he's sorry he wont be around to see my daughter be born. He's already given up.\" He walks away from me tears in his eyes. I dont say anything. Theres nothing to say. I feel his hurt as readily as I feel the sun on my face. I stop what im doing. I throw my wrench down and run my face. I know what im going to do and I hate myself for it. \"Fuck, im stupid\" I grumble. \n\nI walk into the hospital room and see the old man. I got the information from the receptionist at work. Julio stands up as I enter. \"What are you doing here?\" He asks. \"I came to just sit with you. I know what its like to lose a parent. I lost my fsther years ago\" its not exactly a lie. I dont know where he is, never have. \nI move a chair next to the old man. I take a deep breath. I can feel the sickness in him. Its a cloying, greasy feeling. It turns my stomach. His kidneys and liver are failing. The toxins are building inside his body. Julio asks, \"you want some coffee or something?\"\n\"Sure\" I whisper not daring to look at him. He exits the room. I take his fathers hand. It hits me almost immediately, blinding pain, nausea, burning. I can feel the infection. I begin to work. I cannot save him. Hes too far gone. He just needs to hold out two more weeks. His granddaughter is due to be born at any time. I absorb the infection. I milk away the pain. I feel my body take the hit. \"Fuck\" I groan. The old man stirs. I push harder. Im sweating, shaking, I feel my strength failing. I drop his hand and drop to my knees besides the garbage can. I puke black bile into it. His son walks in as I finish emptying my stomach into the bin. \"What the hell!\" He cries. \"If you're sick you'll only make him worse! Get the fuck out!\" I stumble to my feet and walk out of the room. I hear his father call his name. \n\nThe next 3days I call in sick to work. I cant stop puking. My body is wracked with pain. Every morning I show up to the hospital and do what I can for the old man. I use up the little vacation time I have left to recover for a day. When I finally go back I get bitched pretty good by the other guys. They had to pick up my slack with me gone. Ive lost a fair amount of weight and im slow as hell. I learn that Julie's wife has given birth to a beautiful and healthy baby girl. Her grandfather seemed to recover long enough to see her through the glass at the hospital. Julio is all smiles today. He must still be pissed at me because he wont speak to me. Its part of the job I tell myself and get back to work. \n\nI slam my locker closed. Its late. I think im the last one here. I sit on the bench and lay my head in my hands. I hurt. Its been a long day. I wonder sometimes if its really worth it. The old man will still die. I've only prolonged the inevitable. I pull out my cellphone and scroll through Julio's new pictures on his profile. She truly is a beautiful baby girl. His father looks so happy. \"I suppose it is worth it\" I whisper. I cant stop the tears that fall from my face or the sobs that escape my throat. Its not fair. Everyone is happy. Everyone can feel less pain but me. I sit there and sob. I dont hear the quiet foot steps enter the locker room. \n\"Hey, are you alright?\" A soft voice asks. \n\nI look up, its the new service advisor the company just hired. \"Umm yeah, sorry. I just...its been a rough week. Im good.\" I smile. She takes a seat next to me.\n\"Ive seen you in the shop, you always seem to know what to say to make the guys smile and laugh.\" She says. \"Do you want to talk about it?\"\n\nI shake my head. What's the point. She couldn't possibly understand. I feel her take my hand. I brace for the onslaught I know is coming, all her pain and ailments. Instead I feel...nothing. No that's not right. I feel, Nothing..my pain is gone. I stare astonished at her. \"How..\"\nTears run down her face as she breaks into sobs, \"oh my god, oh my sweet sweet god.\" She cries. \"You hurt so much. How can one person endure so much pain?\" She gasps through the tears. \"Im so sorry, I didnt know\" she cries. \nI hug her and hold her close to me. Together we share the pain, our hurts laid bare to eachother. I dont know how long we held eachother. She says she doesnt remember either. Everyone was surprised at how quickly we married. They whispered and gossiped. How can a guy like me, get a woman like her to fall for me. We let them talk. All I know is that I dont mind hugs anymore. ", "As I lifted my newest patient onto the bed I could feel my sleeve tugging at the scabs on my forearm. My previous patient wasn’t paying attention while boiling his spaghetti and expertly managed to spill the boiling water all over his forearms. Sometimes I wonder why I trade my own health for others’ idiocy, but I quickly remind myself of my debt I owed to Madame McClane. I pleaded with her to cure my cancer. She saved my life with her witchcraft and now I must suffer each day by taking on the pains of others as payment. Their wounds and maladies transfer to my body then each morning I wake up completely healed. Is living every day full of pain better than dying? I hope someday to experience death so I can give you a straight answer.\n\nJohn whimpered with a slight slur as I laid him on the table, “I’ve heard you’re the only one who can heal me.” To be honest, I was a bit repulsed by the severe bumps on his face. His eyesight must be hindered by the bumps protruding from his eye sockets and the solid masses around his lips obviously made it difficult for him to speak. I can only imagine the stares he would receive walking down the street, unable to hide his disease. I was not looking forward to taking on this man’s disease.\n\n“Yes, I can heal you,” I replied. I could see a glimmer of hope shine from his eyes. I reached up to put my hand on his forehead to begin the transfer when a couple drops of blood escaped from the scab under my sleeve. \n\n“What’s wrong with you?” John asked, pushing my hand away. \n\n“Nothing, just cut myself while fixing my car,” I lied flatly. If I didn’t heal him then my contract with Madame McClane would be broken, instantly killing me. So I never delayed healing those who came to me, even if I sometimes appeared to be rushing. I reached out again to place my hand on his forehead and begin the incantations. He slapped my hand away.\n\n“You’re lying. What are you not telling me?” he demanded with a hint of anger.\n\n“Nothing, I swear!” I pushed my hand out again, but he backed away. “Why do you care about my arm? Look at yourself. You’re miserable.”\n\n“I care about your arm because I care about you” he responded sincerely. I stared at him blankly and let his answer roll around in my mind.\n\n“You mean you’re attracted to me?” I questioned still quite confused.\n\n“No, my time I spent in India taught me one thing: Joy comes from caring about others while misery comes from caring about yourself,” he offered. He didn’t sound patronizing or pious in any way. How could he with the pain he must be going through? Sure, I’d heard these platitudes before, but coming from him, these words struck me in my core.\n\n“Why do you heal people?” he asked.\n\nI hesitated. I’d never shared the truth with anyone. People were always happy to get healed then run out of my house full of life and joy, never looking back or contacting me again. I accepted this as my fate. In fact, that’s exactly how I treated Madame McClane.\n\n“Because I have a debt to pay,” I answered honestly. “If I don’t heal those who come for my help, I die. I carry their disease, sickness, wounds, or whatever until I wake up the next morning.”\n\n“Interesting…” he pondered. “You have been given a great gift, yet you use it ungratefully. Sounds like a terrible way to live to me.”\n\n“Yes, quite honestly, I hate my life.” I began to tear up. This miserable man was breaking down my defenses and I wasn’t sure whether to hate him or hug him. His disease a visual reminder of how silly I must sound. Who knows how long he had to deal with his gross deformities and I’m complaining about walking an evening in his shoes.\n\n“Gratitude,” he said. “Gratitude is the answer.”\n\nI let his words hang in the air a long time. What I was able to do was miraculous. I dreaded every experience, but I never stopped to think about how happy those who came to see me must feel. I was a healer. I spread joy and hope, yet I lived in misery. I had a thought and decided to act on it.\n\nI picked up the phone and dialed Madame McClane’s number. She answered in her elderly tone, “Yes?”\n\n“Madame McClane, it’s me, Steve.”\n\n“What do you want Steve?” she asked a bit agitated.\n\n“Thank you for this beautiful gift,” I said earnestly.\n\n“Ah,” she replied, “you’ve learned your lesson,” then promptly hung up.\n\nI felt a burden lift off my shoulders that I didn’t even realize had been there. I felt like a new man. I no longer felt irritations on my arms, so I pulled up my sleeves to reveal that my scabs were missing.\n\n“Now,” John insisted, “you may heal me.”\n\nStill a little shellshocked, I reached out my hand again in a practiced motion, placing my palm on his forehead and recited the incantation. John’s bumps instantly began to disappear and I braced myself for the transfer to start to my own skin.\n\nNothing happened.\n\nJohn was healed and I was healthy. “Sometimes we hold on to our misery instead of being grateful for the opportunity of life. Gratitude is the great healer.”\n\nI watched John walk away in perfect health and I stood there pondering the lesson he had taught me. I healed many, many more people the rest of my days, but I will never forget the day that John healed me.", "\"Thank you, thank you O Great Celestion! How can we ever repay you?\" She said, moving in to embrace me.\n\nI simply raised my gloved hand, No need to thank me, and pushed her away. I drew the edges of my hood closer around my face and left the hut as quickly as I could. \n\nBut the little boy proved to be a bit more persistent than all the crying adults around him. With his newfound strength, he leaped to his feet and hurried out after me. \n\n\"Lady, lady, where are you going?\" He said, tugging at the edge of my cloak \"I just want to give you this. Here, take --\"\n\nHe stood, frozen to the spot, arm outstretched with some token in his hand. I should have been a little more careful; there I was, my face revealed in all its hideous glory, ridden with every pox, every wound I've healed for others. The few remaining wisps of my hair floated about in the cold breeze, my raw flesh getting frostbitten already. \n\nHis family had also gathered around the door by this time, agape in horror. \n\n\"Witch! Black magic!\" A woman cried, pointing her accusing finger at me. \n\nDammit, this is why I can never stay in one place too long. I ran as fast as my weak legs could carry me, far away from the village, now rousing to the chants of \"KILL THE WITCH!\"\n\nFortunately, healing wasn't the only magic I possessed. I huddled behind a small bush. I pulled out a small charm from my satchel, put it around my neck, and disappeared from sight. As soon as I felt that the villagers checked this spot a million times to their satisfaction, I breathed a sigh of relief. \n\n\"There you are.\"\n\nI gasped in surprise, then coughed as the sharp air went down my inflamed windpipe. \n\n\"It's okay, I won't tell anyone.\"\n\nI turned around and saw the same little boy behind me. \n\n\"How long have you been, well, like this?\"\n\nI shrugged and stretched my hands out, A long time, too long.\n\n\"And these are everyone's sicknesses and hurts?\"\n\nI nodded. \n\nThe boy looked down at his closed hand, his dark eyes deep in contemplation. \n\n\"Well, since everybody's been giving you their bad stuff, maybe I can give you something nice for once? I know this isn't a lot, we don't have a lot of money. But I hope it makes you happy.\"\n\nHis little hands trembled a little, but they were sure as he took my hand and placed a small object inside. I opened my palm and saw a simple wooden token, what appeared to be a rough carving of a horse. \n\n\"It's one of my favorites. My dad taught me how to make it. It's not as nice as the ones he makes, but I'm very proud of it.\"\n\nI held the little toy to my chest and bowed my head, Thank you. \n\nThe little boy waved and then ran off home. \n\nI sat in silence for a little longer before continuing on my path, searching for those that needed healing. I think, as I journeyed into the night, I could feel a cyst or two start to shrink. " ]	5
	[WP] An Extraterrestrial race have found Earth by picking up 1960s television broadcasts. They wrongly believe that Dr. Who is an intergalactic news program.	[ "“Suzie?” said Agent Brand to the girl working at the desk. She pushed her red glasses onto her face, and looked up, annoyed to be interrupted.\n\n“What's going on?” Suzie asked. \n\n“You watch, like, old sci fi serials, right? Like, that, um...Mr. Who show, right?” said Brand. \n\n“Doctor Who. And yeah, I've watched a little,” said Suzie. \n\n“We've seen your computer history. You've watched all the episodes. Often on work hours,” said Brand dryly.\n\n“You watch my computer? Um, I won't do it again. And I only do it when I've done all my work. Please don't fire me!” said Suzie. Her green eyes pleaded with Brand.\n\nHe raised his hand, and said “I'm actually not here to fire you. I'm here to talk about something you can help me with. Do you remember that whole 'aliens among us' rumor going around?”\n\n“Yes, I remember that. Wait...it's not a rumor?” asked Suzie, smiling widely.\n\nBrand grinned back, and said “No. However, the aliens are a little confused about some of TV broadcasts they've been getting...so I need you to do me a solid. You'll get paid extra, of course.”\n\n“Anything,” said Suzie.\n\nBrand took some clothes from the bag, and looked at Suzie. \n\n“Would you rather be the Doctor, or the companion?” he asked. “Either one you decide, you'll have to coach me on the other one. I don't know this show too well.”\n\nA few minutes later, the alien king J'faad was sitting in front of the Doctor and her companion. The Doctor had on red glasses, and green hair. Possibly it was dyed, or maybe Time Lords naturally could have green hair. She wore a suit, and seemed to be very happy. Her companion was an older man, named Brand, and he was wearing brown robes, and looked rather uncomfortable.\n\n“Hello, Doctor. I have been looking forward to this meeting, ever since watching your defeat of the Daleks. I confess, Earth seems different from the Doctor Who documentary,” boomed J'faad. \n\n“Mr. J'faad, you must be mistaken,” started Brand, but the Doctor shushed him.\n\n“Now, now, Age—Brand. Please be nicer to my guests. You know that things can change. In my several heroic adventures, I have occasionally changed a few details in time. Sometimes history changes slightly, and things look different than you remember” said the Doctor. \n\n“Has the history of Fedia changed, due to your alterations?” said J'faad.\n\nThe Doctor paused, as if searching for her words. Her eyes went to Brand briefly, and she slowly said “Not to any great degree.”\n\n“Doctor, you aren't lying to me, hmm?” asked J'faad. \n\n“She certainly isn't. As a, um...” Brand trailed off.\n\n“You know, Brand, for a 12th Century monk, you're rather forgetful,” said the Doctor.\n\n“Yes, of course. As a monk, which I am, I know she's very honest,” said Brand.\n\nJ'faad raised a tentacle.\n\n“Of course, I know. I've seen the documentaries. So, Doctor, I justed wanted to know—can I trust the Earthlings?”\n\nThe Doctor smiled, leaned forward, and said “Probably not.”\n\nBrand splutterred, and said “What she meant was--”\n\n“What I said. Humans are particularly young in their development. To be honest, they may not even be ready,” said the Doctor.\n\nBrand's face was turning red. He stared at the Doctor with a look between confusion and ager.\n\n“Suzie, what the hell?” said Brand.\n\n“Who's Suzie?” asked J'faad.\n\n“An alias I was using when I met Brand. Funny thing about monks, they don't know when to shut up,” said the Doctor calmly. \n\nBrand glared at her, but kept quiet.\n\n“Ah, I see you still carry your famous wit,” said J'faad.\n\n“You flatter me. Anyway, humanity is young. Foolish, warlike, naive. But,” said the Doctor, her voice getting lower, “This gives you an advantage.”\n\nShe didn't add anything to that. There was a long silence.\n\n“How does this give us an advantage?” said J'faad. \n\n“Because, erm...” continued the Doctor. She looked at Brand, as if she was waiting for help.\n\n“Don't look at me. I am a humble stupid monk,” said Brand bitingly.\n\n“Perhaps you're ready to stop this charade,” said J'faad.\n\n“What?” said Brand and the “Doctor” simultaneously.\n\n“It's very clear that neither of you are the Doctor. You're both rather nervous, clearly lying, and this supposed 'Doctor' has an American accent. Do you take me for a fool? In fact, perhaps my people shouldn't talk to a race that ridicules us!” said J'faad, his voice getting angrier. His tentacles, and his eyes, began to grow red.\n\n“J'faad, please calm down. My agency only wanted to ease you into Earth,” said Brand, his disguise now ignored. \n\n“At least let me finish my thought,” said Suzie.\n\n“I think you've done enough, Suzie,” said Brand.\n\n“No, let's hear what the girl has to say,” said J'faad.\n\n“Thank you. Um, first off, I'm just a nerdy office worker,” said Suzie.\n\nJ'faad growled, and Suzie raised her hands. \n\n“Sorry, I'll get to the point. Your race is a wise civilization. From what I've read, you have stagnated. Yes, humans are new. But, that just means you can teach us. We have scientists, and good people. Surely we can trade money, and ideas. Earth can do, and be good. The Doctor Who program? That was produced by humans, and it shows how we want to be. If we work together, we can be creative and awesome, together,” said Suzie.\n\nJ'faad paused, deep in thought. Then he wiggled his tentacles happily.\n\n“Not a bad speech. Now, leave my sight, both of you. We shall continue negotiations with Earth tomorrow. And this time, no fake lies,” said J'faad.\n\nThe next day, Brand interrupted Suzie at work again.\n\n“Good work, Suzie. J'faad wants to see us again. Decided that our planet is quaint, and likes our modern art,” said Brand.\n\n“Us? You mean, like with me?” said Suzie. She nearly jumped with surprise, spilling the contents of her desk on the floor. As she picked up the items from the floor, Brand continued, smirking.\n\n“Yep. He liked you, and wants you as his personal Earth tour guide. So, stop working on the computer. There's like, 300 pages of rules and regulations and secrecy forms you need to read. Yesterday,” said Brand.\n\n“Damnit. Do I get to see a spaceship, at least?” said Suzie.\n\n“Maybe if you're good. By the way, nice Doctor impression, for all of five seconds. Did you rehearse?” asked Brand.\n\nSusan picked up the last item, a fob watch, from the floor, and replied “Not really. I've watched so many Who eps, that it was like second nature.”\n\n“Good. Because there's 4 other alien consulates coming, and they all want to meet the Doctor. Get yourself ready.”" ]	1
	[WP] When looking into a mirror or a reflection, you see yourself in 5 hours. You look into a puddle on a rainy day and see no reflection.	[ "It was a strange world. Large buildings of glass and a peculiar, rough, grey stone, (concrete, I had heard it was called) jutted from uniform, grid-like streets. I was from a village, where the houses were of thatch and wood, and the roads took a more organic, meandering path through the place. \n\nPeople bustled by, almost overwhelming me. There were all sorts, but they were wearing mostly the same thing. A small, woollen hat would stretch across the top of their head, covering their ears, and they would be wearing scarves and long, large-pocketed overcoats. There were more of them waiting at each street intersection than there were in the entire village back home, but I had grown somewhat accustomed to the throngs years ago when I was appointed to the Ministry. \n\nI had been sent here on official business, to retrieve an important item. I had not been given a name or a very detailed description. It was simply stashed away in a hidden room on the second floor of a building about twelve intersections down, to where I was walking now, and it was pertinent that I acquire it. I didn't care much though; I was receiving a lot of money for this job, and that was what mattered.\n\nIt was raining. Almost as if Merlin himself had split the skies open, though it could grow more tempestuous yet. I hurried along, keeping wide girth of the commuters. In my experience, they were very averse to being slowed down and would scream colorful obscenities if hindered in any way. It was disquieting, so I tried my best to avoid conflict. \n\nWith so many people though, it was quite the task. Presently I found myself being jostled by a portly man next to me. He had caught me off balance, and so began a chain reaction that I could not prevent. I teetered, almost regaining my balance, but tripped over the heel of another person's stilettos, bringing her down with me. \n\nShe yelled out in surprise as she landed, flat on her behind, and then began cursing at me. \n\n\"FUCK, Oh my god, I needed to go to a meeting you idiot! What the hell is wrong with you!?\" She looked down and huffed. Her leggings and skirt had gotten wet, auburn leaves stuck to her waist and legs. \n\n\"Ugh, I need to get these cleaned now... I'm going to be late. Thanks a lot.\" She then took a moment to look me over. \n\n\"Uhh... hey are you okay? You look really pale.\" \n\nI was sweating. I knew, even as the rain mixed with it and poured down my face, my umbrella crumpled, and off to the side.\n\n\"No, no; I'm fine. Sorry about this, but I really need to go. Ahhh, here.\" I fished out some of the money that the Ministry had given me to operate with and placed it in her palm. \n\n\"You can get your clothes cleaned with this. Sorry again.\" I got up and took off.\n\n\"Wait, this is too much! I only need a few dollars!\" \n\nI didn't hear her. I was already somewhere else. This money was worthless to me anyway. \n\nIt wasn't there. I tended to stay away from puddles as much as I could to avoid learning about the future; my mother had always told me that it was best to not know. To see future changes in you was to learn of something that one should not know. But this time, there was nothing to see. I did not know what it meant, except that something was going to happen in the next hour. I still had time to finish the job. I would finish it, inform the Ministry, and find somewhere safe to keep myself. Perhaps a padded cell. \n\nThe next half hour passed without incident, and every minute brought me closer to my objective and, hopefully, guaranteed safety. Three intersections now. \n\nIn front of me, two women pulled their scarves over their faces, and began walking faster. Across the street, a gangly teenager and a grown, muscular man did the same. The rain has begun to come down harder. I wouldn't enjoy spending the rest of my day in soaking knickers, so I sped up too, keeping a keen eye on those in front of me. My lack of a reflection had put me on edge. \n\nThe building was only fifty feet in front of me when I saw the two from across the street cross and begin walking abreast with the women. Three others as well, their scarves over their faces, walking, facing me, coming from the other direction. They had to be after it too. There was nothing that they were wearing that gave them away as being organised, but they seemed to walk in rhythm with each other, as if they were well-acquainted. Surely the lack of a reflection meant death, and as our interests would clash here, so would we, and I would unquestionably die.\n\nI could leave now, and tell the Ministry that I had failed. I wouldn't get the money, but I might be able to change the future and save myself. No one had dictated that the things yet to happen were set in stone. \n\nBut the money. I should be secured for the rest of my days if I pulled this off. I weighed them in my mind and chose. \n\nI chose and I broke into a sprint, barging into the building. The four who were in front of me had begun shouting and started running towards me. So they were after it. Slamming the entrance closed to hold them off for a few seconds, I surveyed the building as I quickly found and ran up the stairs. It was a pharmaceutical that seemed to be hiding a whore house in the back and second floor. \n\nRoom 16, Room 17, Room 19, there. I barged into the room, interrupting a prostitute who was offering up her services to an unfortunate soul. One cursory glance at her genitalia told me that the boy, to be engaging with her at all, must not have ever seen any healthy womanly parts before and was also about to contract a large number of diseases. Shame.\n\nI tapped the wall urgently and a compartment slid open, revealing a suitcase marked 'DO NOT OPEN'. It was the precious object that I was undoubtedly risking my life for. If I might die, I might as well also see what it was that the Ministry and this second group both desired so much. I could simply close the case later. \n\nI knew what it was the moment I saw it, and I finally understood why my reflection had failed to appear in the puddle. I hopped down the stairs; saw my assailants, and threw it on. Flashes of light zipped past me. Bottles on the shelves and behind the counter (the clerk manning it had fled when he saw me running up the stairs) exploded, spraying cough syrup and cleansing alcohol everywhere, but not a single thing harmed me. \n\n\"Where is he? Where did the fucker go?\" \n\n\"He got it, didn't he?\"\n\n\"Fuck fuck fuck fuck.\" \n\nI walked right past them. They kept casting, hoping that they would catch me. I wasn't an idiot. \n\nThe idiots had blasted the door wide open. I strolled on through. The woman I had run into earlier was outside, part of the crowd that had gathered around the building. She wore a concerned look on her face for a few seconds, then looked around and continued to walk. In such a big city, events like these must have been commonplace. \n\n\"Shit, he gave me way too much... where did he go?\" She had tossed away her heels and umbrella to catch up to me, and her leggings were completely soaked. What an honest soul. \n\n\"Keep it.\" I pushed my umbrella into her armpit as she whipped around, seeing nothing. \n\nI didn't need the Ministry's money anymore. Not when I could get as much as I wanted with the Invisibility Cloak. \n\n\n\n \n " ]	1
	[WP] There is a crack on my wall. I never noticed it before.	[ "\"That's new.\"\n\nIt's funny what springs to mind in a crisis. Particularly when you're just waking up. I've never been a morning person, and I typically need at least one steaming cup of coffee to kick my ass and get the day started. Not that the swill we had around here counted as real brew. Christ, I hate mornings.\n\n\"That definitely wasn't there yesterday.\"\n\nI've always had an attention to detail though. Probably why I'd gotten my foot in the door in the first place. Also why I'd risen up the ranks so quickly. Hell, you could argue the whole reason I was even staring at this wall at all was because I was the one who noticed the little things. Of course they're easier to notice when they're 5 feet from your face.\n\n\"I think it's getting longer.\"\n\nSure I was a details guy, but I also understood the big picture. I keep things in perspective. My dad always used to say that there's no use worrying about the things you can't change. Easy for him to say, he drove a bus. Still, there was wisdom there. Nothing to be done but watch.\n\n\"I wonder how much bigger it can get?\"\n\nMy mind began to wander, but it was understandable. It was already getting pretty hard to breathe. I looked around at my cohorts on either side of me. Still sleeping. No point in waking them either, not over something like this. There were smarter people than me who would look into it. I closed my eyes and tried to get back to the dream I was having. Que sera, sera. \n\nThe crack yawned wide. \n\nA million miles away in a big white room, smart people in white coats furrowed their brows and tapped their keyboards. One went to the phone. \n\n\"Sir.\" she said, \"we've lost contact with the station.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You are a notorious serial killer who kills people then travels back in time and saves his victims in order to prevent consequences. Today your time machine is acting up.	[ "I don't mean to be like this. It is in my nature. It's in my mind, my body, even my soul to help people. It comes to me as easily as breathing comes to you, or pumping blood through that worthless body of yours. It's what I have devoted my life too, but like most selfless acts it goes completely unnoticed. Some people, especially her, even despise me for the work I do. I live with this fact, they don't understand the importance of my work. Many saints aren't recognized in their times. I try not to let it interfere with my work.\n\n Tonight is important I've been following this piggy for weeks, longer than I usually do. I just was astonished with how pointless this individual was. Sleep, work, eat, sleep, work, eat. That's all he ever did. He was extaclly the invidual I love to focus on. The one that makes it feel so fulfilling, so important, so needed. So I indulged myself and stretched the processes out. He would be home in bed tonight, alone as always. And I would help him. I'm giddy just thinking about it. Maybe he would thank me as I stuck the knife in. It's about time someone did. \n\nI tip toed in the apartment after picking the lock. In his room.... voices. No this can't be right.\n\n\"I know I haven't been there for you, I'm so sorry. I know why you left. I was shell. I'm getting help, we can go together if you want. I love you so much.\" \n\nHe was crying... a women's voice responded. I almost gasped. \n\n\"That's all I wanted, I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry I left I love you.\" \n\nI could hear them... the were kissing. My blood boiled. This piggy knew, he fucking knew the true meaning of life, that there is not any meaning. Pointless! Disgusting! And I release them! And he gives that up for some whore. I clawed at my scars... fine, fine, fine... tonight I'd have too ungrateful screamers.\n\n**\n\nOh my god. There was blood on my hands. He did this. I thought he had stopped, it had had been awhile since the last time. Oh god... who was it this time? I couldn't travel anymore. Jesus... how can I keep explaining that I use my trips to go back a few hours so many times. Trips had to be planned, permission given, and be completely harmless to the timeline. Most people used it for recreation, to explore history or go back to good memories, but most people don't have my problem. I already am in trouble with the traveling department. The checker would most definitely put a freeze on my traveler at the end of the month... and I'd, WE would, be under investigation. What if he killed again while I'm frozen? What if I go to prison? Why should I suffer because of him... oh god... I look at my arm. There are two fresh tally marks. I have to. I travel again.", "Sir, I'm not a time machine person. I'm just trying to -\n\nYes.\n\nYes, I know you're trying to help. You need to understand something. This is quite a... tricky situation. I mean - it's not tricky.* There's no trick. It's not difficult or anything. I mean -\n\nNo, I'm just trying to explain. It's just that I have to - I mean, I have to -\n\nNo, I'm sure 'all your calls are important'. This one's just another 'important' call, that's all. I forget who even said it was a matter of life or death in the first place.\n\nWell, I'm sure one of us did.\n\nFine. Now we've cleared that up, let's just get to the matter at hand, shall we? If that's OK with you? The screen's -\n\nAccount number? I don't - \n\nNo.\n\nNo, I don't have that with me. My documentation is at home. My machine's in a storage unit.\n\nWhat do you mean?\n\nThat's not weird. Why is that weird? My place is small. I live in a small place. It's like an apartment.\n\nFine. It is an apartment. So I store it here. I'm not hiding anything. \n\nYou did. You clearly implied it. Look. I need to get this thing online. Do you want to help me or not? \n\nOh, I'm sorry. Please tell me more about your 'red flags'. I'm dying to hear more about them. I've got a blank screen and six dark lights, places to be, and I'd just love to hear about the colour of your flags.\n\nThe power? Fifty-nine ninety-nine a year for tech support and the best you can do is -\n\n...\n\nNever mind. I've got it working now. It was something else entirely. Goodbye." ]	2
	[WP] World War III.	[ "Bullets. Bullets everywhere.\n\nAs I crouch in the trench, I hear them whizzing past. Anyone of them could hit me, could kill me. Anyone of them could end my time on this Earth.\n\nI hear my commander shout, \"Move Move Move!\" It's time to go I guess. I grab my M1 grand, and jump out of the trench, staying low, and moving fast. I don't know how I'm not dead, but I don't question it, I just run. I make it to a trench, and sweep my area.\n\n\"Clear!\" I shout, and I look around to see who else made it. Most of the force did, all of them looking around, same as me. Probably with the same dumb look I am sure is on my face.\n\nAs I peek to return enemy fire, I see one. I didn't think the Germans would send one here. The commanders assured me there wouldn't be one, they said it would be a waste for the Germans. I guess the Germans thought different.\n\nI blind fired over the trench, hoping to decrease the incoming fire, and then I peeked hoping to kill it. If I could kill that, I'd be praised forever. Noone has ever killed one. I want to be the first.\n\nI fire a few shots at it, but quickly realize I am out of range. I yell to the man beside me, \"Cover me!\" and I run. I hear him start layng down fire, he us one of the lucky ones, he got a Thompson, a fully automatic weapon of death.\n\nAs I make it into range, I see piles of burning, frozen, shriveled corpses. It has been doing work, killing many, it's reign ends here. I pop up and fire hoping that my bullets will hit. And for a while I think that one may, but it is too good, it's staff spinning, using it's power to stop all of the bullets. \n\nI duck back down, reloading my rifle, and attaching my one propelled grenade to the front. If this doesn't kill him, I don't know what will. I roll into a standing position, take aim and shot the grenade towards him, and then I spray the entire clip of my rifle towards him. As it blocks my bullets it does not see the grenade, arcing towards it. I feel a twinge of excitement. I may be the first to kill one.\n\nIt blocks the last of my bullets and turns to finish me, but before it can do anything, the grenade inpacts, right behind it, launching it's corpse towards me.\n\nI duck to the left, narrowly avoiding the corpse, then turn back and look at it. I was wrong, it was never an it, it was a he. He looks at me, and with his dying breath says \"Thank you.\" \n\nAs he dies a bluish purple mist expels from his corpse, and rushes towards me. Scared, I scatter, but it is too late. The must hits me and I am hit with a wave of pain, this was supposed to be my moment of glory, now it will be my moment of death.\n\nJust when I think I am about to die, something, magical, happens. A wave of energy rushes through me, and I stand up, amazed. My M1 grand is no longer there, instead a staff, and for some reason I know it is mine. I turn towards the Germans and throw my hands out, expelling bright blue mist all over the battle field. As it clears, it is obvious what I did, I froze all of them.\n\nMy commander turns towards me with a look of awe on his face. I look around and see everyone else staring at me with the same look of awe. Then my commander bows to me and says, \"We are at your service great one.\" And it is at this moment where I feel a small glimmer of hope, I am our only chance to finally be free of the reign of Hitler and his Nazi horde. And I will not fail." ]	1
	[WP] You have lived for generations but instead of being super old but still looking great, your body winds back to being 21 the night after your 45th birthday.	[ "My Dearest Robert,\n\nI wanted to tell you this in person, but my courage failed me so I am writing you this letter. You will never see me again. Please try to understand. Please take care of our dear Emelie and Albert. \n\nOur years together have been the happiest of my life. Ever since we met at the symposium–you a up-and-coming genius in space-time topography, me a young transfer student to the physics department–I knew you were the one for me. I was always searching for answers. But, it turns out, I was searching for something more, not just the answers of the universe but the answers of the heart. It is that heart that breaks as I write these words. \n\nI can never explain sufficiently to earn your forgiveness but, for me, my birthday tomorrow marks a transition. Not just a mid-life crisis of a 45 year old woman, but a phase transition or a space-time discontinuity or a rift that, despite all that we have learned, I am unable to heal. \n\nI know you will hate me after reading this and that, more than anything else, is my unforgivable sin. Nevertheless, I am yours forever and I will love you and our children until the sun expands and consumes our Earth. \n\nLove,\nLise\n\n " ]	1
	[WP] You're a loan shark, but you lend out time.	[ "\"I need\" I stopped speaking, overwhelmed. \n\nThe man stared at me. He was dressed as a sterotypical movie mafia. A walking cliche. \"What?\" He said in a thick New York Accent. \n\n\"Time. I'm told you can provide time.\" \n\n\"Yes, I can. I provide many interesting acquisitions. I can provide time.\" He said the last word out of sync with the rest of the sentence, as if he was stumbling over the word.\" \n\n\"How does it work?\" \n\nHe smirked at me, and started playing with his fedora. \"Now that, is the million dollar question, isn't it? The true question, is how much will you pay for extra time?\" \n\n\"I need it for my wife. She's got Cancer. I want her to spend a day with our son. a pain free day, which he can remember, After.\" I almost break down crying. \n\n\"Leave out the fucking Histrionics, would you? This is a business deal, no more no less. Time, Time, I can do. Pain?\" He got a pained expression on his face. \"That's a different story. A very expensive, painful story. Did they tell you my price?\" \n\nI shook my head in the negative. \n\n\"Time, you pay for the time, with a decrease in time. You add a day, you lose,\" He paused here, \"you lose more. Its not an efficient process, and there is some slippage. Generally an hour now, will cost you a day later. a day now? That will cost you, i don't know. I've never gone that high, maybe a year, I'd guess?\"\n\n\"And what about the pain?\"\n\n\"Look at me.\" It was honestly hard to look at him. \"LOOK AT ME.\" he shouted, pointing at his mouth. His front teeth were clearly elongated, sharpened. \"You know what this means? You've heard the stories? Its not blood though. I can target other things, Time is easy. It's you trading time from your life, and me giving it to her. Pain though? Pain is different.\"\n\nHe put his hat down and looked me in the eyes. \n\n\"Only pain can pay for pain. Time, I just pull. Its nothing. You don't know its gone, your body simply has less time. Pain? you need to feel it, experience it. And its easy to pull it, and hard to push it on someone. Very hard. Which means, I feel it. A free day of pain? That will cost you, painfully.\"\n\n\"How much money do you want?\" \n\n\"It's not money.\" He smiled, and pointed around the room. Shades everywhere. Windows were boarded up. \"I want to see the sunshine again. I want to walk among mankind again. I haven't seen the sun in 600 years.\" \n\n\"What does that mean, how can you do that? What will it do to me?\" \n\n\"It doesn't matter how I do it. It matters that i can. What will it do to you? I imagine, it will cause you to be sensitive to the sun. Very sensitive. Myself? I die in the sun, I doubt that will happen to you, but I would think monthly checkups for cancer might be a good idea.\" \n\n\"So you take my life, and you take my ability to walk in the sun?\"\n\n\"Yes, and I will give you some of the pain. As I said, I can't give you all of it. The old saying 'Pain shared is pain halved' well it's not true here.\"\n\n\"In exchange, my wife gets an extra day, Pain free?\" \n\n\"Yes, exactly.\" \n\n\"When?\" \n\n\"Tonight. Do I have permission to enter your domicile to conduct our business while you sleep? Tomorrow will be pain free for your wife.\"\n\n\"Please, enter our home this evening, complete our business and go with our thanks.\" \n\nThe man smiled coldly. \n\n\n\n" ]	1
Someone with a true heart of gold, who regularly volunteers at homeless shelters, goes to church every Sunday, has two rescue shelter dogs, loves and appreciates the environment and good books, greets everyone with a smile and a wave, calls her parents every day to tell them she loves them, always has something kind to say about everyone, never gossips, never drinks, never smokes, has never dated, and has not told a lie since she was nine... gets bitten by and becomes a vampire. It is a story about the inner struggle between nature and nurture. - JDL	[WP] A selfless girl with a true heart of gold becomes a vampire - JDL	[ "I had become worried about Jane after she missed the second service in a row. Perhaps that had been my own curiosity though, as many people didn't attend now and then, so her absence shouldn't have merited my concern. However, if I may use a pun, she attended religiously. So rather than fearful something terrible had befallen her, I wished to know what could have stood between her and the church.\n\nYet, I did not expect I would find such signs as to instil that fear inside me.\n\nThe first had come soon, when I called on her mother to remain behind after the sermon. While Jane had something of a modern family, with her divorced parents and step-siblings and half-siblings, she maintained a strong connection to both her birth parents, and treated her step-parents with appropriate respect.\n\nSo, her mother who often attended with her became the obvious and gentle choice of my nosiness. A kind woman, yet she spoke to me as though I may bite her. Raggedness aged her, unlike her appearance even just the week before.\n\nWhen I asked her about it, she said that Jane's dogs hadn't been settling in well. I didn't pry, but I worried. Asked no more than if Jane would be attending the next week, and the reply had been a no that sounded as though it came from another world, so distant it did sound.\n\nI bid her a good day, and wished her the best with the dogs.\n\nIn my study, I became drawn into dark thoughts. I had often thought Jane would leave my church, as so many of the newer generation did. While arrogant to presume to know her heart, my belief said that her passion lay with charity rather than religion. In the end, after one discussion too many, I expected her to confess an inability to accept our reality and a kind God. After so many similar souls, I had a sense for those that would try to comprehend Him and fail. That's not to say I blamed them for losing faith. On the contrary, I thought it important that each and every person should think for themselves. Religion for the sake of religion had led to too many errors, mistakes, tragedies. Rather I would have religion for the sake of purpose.\n\nAll that aside, her absence didn't cause me concern. That she had given up her dogs—and her mother hadn't spoken of a holiday, or said that it would be for a short while, or anything like that—chilled me to the bone. For Jane, it may well have been the same as abandoning a child.\n\nTo intrude on her life was out of the question. If something had happened, and surely something had, then those around her were better suited to aiding her. My own feelings mattered little, certainly not worth any inconvenience I may place on her to accommodate them.\n\nI had a trick up my sleeve, though. A few days later, my shift at the soup kitchen came up, one I had shared with her for the last few months. She hadn't missed any of her other shifts over the last fortnight. So, with the rota coming around again, I would have a chance to speak with her casually.\n\nShe had arrived before me clearly, leaving a trail of worried people behind her. The manager in particular looked agitated, and relieved to see me when I entered. She spoke in hurried whispers, concerned with Jane's health. I listened carefully, and agreed to arbitrate on the matter as it were.\n\nWell, even with that warning in mind, the sight of her caught me by surprise. Rather than the beautiful, vibrant young woman I had known, she had a corpse-like appearance. Skin so pale it looked gray, and her eyes had clouded. Perhaps most striking of all, if a bit melodramatic, was how she didn't smile.\n\nYes, her lips had some gentle upwards curve to them. But, she wasn't smiling.\n\nMy place forgotten, I rushed to her and felt her forehead. She flinched at the touch, but not quick enough. “My child, you're freezing,” I said. Though, in a way, that had been reassuring. Illness a better situation than drugs. Or rather, a situation that resolved itself easily and with time, and my relief lay in knowing she wouldn't have to go through the struggle of addiction.\n\n“I, I'm fine,” she said, turning away.\n\n“You're ill,” I said, stating it plainly before her, and for some reason it hit her hard, hunching her over. “We must get you home. If not for your sake, then for the sake of sparing others your illness.”\n\nOnce more, the words had greater weight than I expected. She did the barest of nods. “Fine.”\n\nI turned to the manager and excused us, though based on her reply I may well have saved the world. Though nothing joined us together, Jane followed me out, quiet and light on her feet. Usually, she had solid work boots on, which echoed on the walls, but perhaps they had been too heavy for her frail body.\n\nBefore we exited out the door, she raised her hood, even tightening it. I guessed the cold must have been terrible for her, despite it being one of the warmer days of spring. Really, all I could see of her skin was a small oval of her face, her hands too hidden amongst the fabric.\n\nWe spoke of nothing on the way to her house, except for a moment near the end where she asked to take the long way around. Some people disliked the bridge for it's unsteady appearance, but I hadn't known she to be one of them. A sign of how little I truly knew her.\n\nNothing looked out of the ordinary as we arrived at our destination. The yard perhaps in need of a trim all that stood out. Though, when she opened the door, the darkness inside became rather obvious. All the blinds and curtains set against the sunshine.\n\nRather than open any of them, she turned on a light.\n\nPhotosensitivity a common enough trait in diseases, I let her know that we could leave the light off if she wished. But, she just replied saying a little didn't bother her. I asked her if she wanted to lie down, but she declined. I asked if I should leave, but she didn't answer.\n\nIn the end, I let my curiosity get the better of me. “Why didn't you come to church on Sunday?”\n\nShe sat not quite opposite me, the couch and chair at a little more than a right-angle. So far, she had shown no emotion, no difference to the sickly appearance. At that moment though, she bowed her head, hiding her eyes from me.\n\n“I, tried to,” she whispered.\n\n“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked such a question,” I said, bowing my own head in guilt. “When ill, one must take as much time as needed to get better. Please, do not feel compelled to attend until you regain your vigor.”\n\nThe silence dragged on. I looked up, to try and gauge her reaction, and was surprised by the pained expression on her lips.\n\n“Jane? Are you okay?” I asked, reaching out.\n\nBut, she slapped my hand away, shouting, “Don't touch me!”\n\nI had nothing to say at first, unable to comprehend her reaction. Though, I thought it may well bruise, the strike unnaturally hard. “If I've said something to offend you, I'm sorry, that wasn't my intention.”\n\n“No, you didn't… just, leave me alone.”\n\nThe words sounded insincere, and I called her on it. “Do you want me to go?”\n\nHer belated reply, a shake of her head.\n\n“Then, do you wish to talk?”\n\nShe licked her lips, and drummed her fingers on her knee, and try as I might I couldn't hear her breathing. “I don't know.”\n\nThe mystery had swallowed me in a way, and I began to go through my thoughts with a fine comb to build something of a case. “May I ask you some questions?”\n\nAs though we spoke across a great distance, once more her response came late. She nodded her head.\n\n“Why are you not caring for your dogs?”\n\nHer animated fingers stilled, and surely dug into her flesh in a painful way. “They, they bark at me now, like I'm an intruder. I had to ask my mom to look after them before noise complaints came in.” I waited, having developed a knack for knowing when people wished to continue speaking, regardless of the length of the pause. “Besides, it's not good for them to spend all their time upset. Stress is bad for dogs.”\n\n“I see,” I said, nodding along, even if she didn't look at me. “Next then, how long have you been ill?”\n\n“Two and a half hours from now, it will have been two weeks exactly.”\n\nLeaning forward, I asked, “How can you be so certain?”\n\nA smile formed on her lips, somewhat condescending I thought. “I got bitten on the way back from our last shift together, and the symptoms began soon after.”\n\n“Like a mosquito bite?”\n\n“Yeah, something like that,” she said, keeping hold of that strange smile that looked out of place on her.\n\nI steepled my fingers, what little I knew of diseases shedding no light on the situation. “How long does the doctor think it will take before you are better?”\n\nAnd, her smile became that of a person broken. “Never.”\n\nSwallowing my surprise, I went to reassure her, but remembered my place and brought my hand back to my own knee. In the gentlest tone I could manage, I asked, “Is it something which will shorten your life?”\n\n“No,” she said, quick and certain. After a moment, she rose, still keeping her eyes away from mine. “I think that's enough questions.”", "It's my first time, be gentle. Also I wrote this on a tablet so it might look a little rough.\n\n\n\n“Oh God, oh god, oh god, I am so sorry.”\r\n\n She hadn’t meant to kill the woman, just to take some of her blood. You see, she had been starving herself since the night of her turning and she was so. damn. hungry. She had seen the woman exit the bar unsteadily, a bit drunk, and so she had followed. She made a beeline for the side of the building, where the woman had stopped to rummage through her purse and pull out a pack of cigarettes. She put one between her lips before tossing the pack back into her bag. She started looking through the bag again, frowning as her search came up fruitless. It was then that Annabelle chose to make herself known. \r\n\n“Need a light?” she asked.\r\n\n“Oh my god, yes please,” she lit the cigarette and exhaled an impressive cloud of smoke. “ You're a life saver.”\r\n\n“Don’t mention it. Can I bum one?” Annabelle asked\r\n\n“Help yourself,” the woman said, tossing her the pack.\r\n\nShe lit her own cigarette and exhaled. She wasn’t a smoker but she needed something to calm her nerves.\r\n\n“Nice night,huh?” \r\n\nAnnabelle tossed her cigarette to the ground and snuffed it out with her shoe. It was now or never. She knew that if she let the woman keep talking she would get cold feet. And she needed to feed, or it was lights out for her. For real this time. She knew it was wrong and she did feel bad, honestly she did, but she wasn’t ready to die yet. \r\n \nOnce she had a taste it was like she had gone on autopilot. The woman had struggled, but the woman was too weak to push Annabelle off of her, and eventually she stopped moving all altogether. It was then that Annabelle forced herself away from the woman’s neck. She looked down at the woman who was crumpled limply in her arms and searched her features for any sign of life. Nada. No breathing; her pulse was gone. Guilt hit her like a tidal wave. You'd think that now that she was a bloodthirsty creature of the night her human empathy should have gone out the window along with her humanity, but that just wasn't the case. She couldn’t help but think about how this woman had a family that was going to miss her. What if she had kids? They were going to spend the rest of their lives wondering what happened to their mom. She'd done a very bad thing, and there was no taking it back now. She felt tears start to blur her vision and she untangled one of her arms from the woman and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. Blood tears. \n\n“Ugh, gross.” she scruched up her nose in disgust.\n\nWhy had this happened to her? She had been a decent peron. She had gone to church every Sunday, done her best not to hurt other people. It just didn’t seem fair, why did she of all people have to get turned into a vampire? \r\n\nHer parents had always worried about her trusting nature. Naïve. That’s what they had called her. \r\n\n“ Not everyone in this world has good intentions, Annabelle.” \r\n\nShe had rolled her eyes, “ I know that, Dad, but there a lot of people out there who really need help but can’t find it because people are so jaded. I just try to see the best in everybody, that’s all.” \r\n\nHe took a sip of his coffee and said, “And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Just be careful please. There are creeps everywhere.”\r\n \n “ I will, I will,” she said, before taking her keys off the counter “ Okay, I’ve got to go. Tell mom I said hi, and that i’ll pobably stop by on Sunday. Don’t miss me too much.”\rShe kissed him on the cheek before heading out the door. She looked down at her phone: 7:10pm. Plently of time. \r\n\nThe worst part about in the city was the lack of parking. She ended up having to park a few blocks away from the soup kitchen, which she didn’t really mind so much since she had worn flats today. The streets were pretty empty and the streetlights bathed everything in a warm orange glow. There were garbage bins out on the curb; tomorrow must be trash day. Had she remembered to put hers out? She hoped so, the kitchen was prepping for a big brunch tomorrow and she would most likely be there cooking and serving well into the next morning. She loved working at the kitchen. It was a strictly volunteer program and the shifts could be brutally long because they were understaffed, but it didn’t bother her. It felt good to give something back. The sound of metal clanging brought her out of her thoughts. It came from the alleyway a few feet up the sidewalk. She stopped, her heartbeat picking up. Then she heard a voice. \r\n\n“ Help me.” \r\n\nIt was coming from that alley. She slowly stepped forward sticking close to the brick wall of the building leading up to the side street. She peeked her head around the corner slowly, and saw what the commotion had been. There was a man in a dirty hooded sweatshirt and jeans lying haphazardly on an overturned trash can. She couldn’t see what he looked like because his hood was pulled over his head and he was facing the ground. He was frail looking, and probably homeless.\r\n\n Again he said, “ Help me. So hungry. Please, please.” \r\n\nHer heart was still beating a mile a minute; something about this situation felt… off. But at the same time she didn’t want to just leave the man here alone like this.\r\n\n “ Excuse me. Um hello, hi. Sir, theres a soup kitchen only a couple of blocks from here. I’d be happy to take you there to get something to eat.” \r\n\nIt was quiet for a second, the only sound the man’s wheezing breaths. “ Please,” he rasped. “Please help me up.”\r\n \nShe closed the distance between them and crouched down to help the man onto his feet. The next thing she knew she was lying on her back on the pavement. Her head had bounced forcefully off the cement and she saw white behind her eyelids. She felt herself being lifted by her collar and so she forced her eyes open. The man in the hoodie was looking down at her; his face contorted into an ugly grimace. What was wrong with his teeth? His canines were elongated and pointed like a shark's, and he was salivating profusely. She screamed at the sight and he shoved his hand over her mouth muffling the sound. He pushed her back down onto the ground and pinned her down with his body. She struggled against him in vain. For such a frail looking guy he was unnaturally strong. He kept his hand on her mouth and tugged her collar down, exposing her neck. And then he bit her.\r\n\nShe woke up some time later in her own bed. She had at first thought it must have been a dream, but when she sat up she was wearing the same clothes and her shirt was soaked through with blood. She gingerly felt the bite marks on her neck with her fingertips. She knew what was coming, but chose to stay in denial for a few days following the incident. That is until the syptoms set in. Her skin drained of all color and she began to loathe the sunlight. She lost her appetite for food and the one time she did try to eat some soup it lead to dry heaving for a solid ten minutes. She finally resigned herself to the truth on the day she left to go to work and her skin started sizzling in the sun’s heat the instant sunlight touched her body. She hurried back into the lobby of her apartment building and leaned back against the front door and sighed. It was official. She was a vampire.\r\n\nThe girl from tonight however wasn’t going to turn; she had bled her dry. She had to get rid of the body. Annabelle hoisted the woman over her shoulder and headed towards the parking lot where her jeep was parked, put the body in the trunk and shut the door. There was plenty of woods outside of town. she would take the body, bury it, and be careful not to let this happen again. She turned around in her seat and put the car in reverse. The body rolled with the turn. “Sorry.” Annabelle said one last time before peeling out of the parking lot and into the night.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n" ]	2
	[WP] "Wait, your plan to defeat me was to WING IT? No no no, this is unacceptable."	[ "Grogar was speechless. He had planned on destroying the squishy mortal world, killing anybody who had stood in his way. The mortals might have had been squishy, but for what they lacked in raw power they made up in numbers. \n\nThe man, moreso a boy really, in front of Grogar was not an army. Not even a soldier. He had only come with three other entities. A half-eaten orange, his cat, and a ping-pong paddle. Grogar's jaw hit the floor quicker than the the lightning he used for smiting. \n\n\"I do not... I just... what?\" He asked. \"Is this some kind of joke?\" \n\nThe whelp held the ping-pong paddle up in front of himself as he spoke. \"I, uh, I'm here to defeat you. In m-mortal combat.\" He muttered, \n\nGrogar scoffed, some of his composure returning to him. \"How?\" He asked. \n\n\"W-with this ping-pong paddle I can block anything.\" \n\n\"No. You cannot. That pitiful scrap of plywood would break just under my gaze,\" Indeed, as he uttered this the whelp's paddle shattered from pure psychic energy, making him flinch. \"How did a worthless runt like you end up making it this far?\" \n\n\"I just kinda... winged it.\" He gulped and ran his newly free hand through his hair. \"That was my whole plan really.\" \n\n\"Wait, your plan to defeat me was to WING IT?\" This... this damn fool! What game is he playing? I can't just kill him, no glory will come from killing such a pathetic mortal, Thought Grogar as he prepared a teleportation spell with his mind.\n\n\"No no no, this is unacceptable. You are going to come back later.\" \n\n\"Wh-\" Before the word could even slip out of his mouth Grogar had teleported the child else where. A place far away where he could learn to survive and fight. Eventually they would meet again, even if he had to pull a few strings Grogar would make sure their fates were destined for an epic clash. \n\nGrogar walked away, off to conquer more settlements. He never even noticed the the cat following him, watching his every move... \n\n--- \n\nPlease, constructive feedback welcome! Grammar, speling, etc. \n\n\n\n", "John stood in the bow of the ship, watching the flames grow. His plan had failed. The program wasn't uploaded to the U.N., capitalized society would continue. His yaht base was on fire thanks to that cursed Rigby. He had been following him ever since that bombing in Croatia. Rigby was slowly walking towards him, katana in hand. Where he got it was beyond John. \"Well done you fool, you've only delayed the future!\" I yelled, smoke in my eyes, hand slowly reaching for my gun in my jacket. \"Well call me an old soul, because it's throwback Thursday!\" He yelled, and adopted an attack stance. John whipped out a Walther PPK and pointed it at Rigby.\"That was a good one, did you just make that up?\" John asked, lowering his guard. \"Ha yeah, to be honest I've just been going along with everything since that robbing in Macedonia.\" Rigby chuckled. John furrowed his eyebrows and threw his hands up. \"You mean I was beat by a guy winging it the whole time?\" He yelled. John awkwardly shrugged.\"yeah I guess so-\" \"no no no this is a disgrace! You have to have a intricate plan to foil me, not just stroll in and defeat me!\" John pouted, his monocule falling off. The back section of the boat exploded, throwing Rigby forward to John's feet . John helped him up . \"We're not dying this lame ass death together! We're going to have a proper duel! But later!\" Rigby nodded his head. They jumped into the water as the bow collapsed. They came up to the surface and held onto a large plank. They awkwardly watched the boat burn and sink. After a minute, John asked \"So...where are we?\" Rigby thought for a second, \"Somewhere in the mid Mediterranean I'm sure. I know a good cafè in Venice.\" Sure " ]	2
	[WP] Everybody has an aura. Most people have a solid color or more commonly a murky combination of two. You begin to suspect your aura is scaring people away from you.	[ "My fingers are clasped tightly around a cup of coffee so cheap it should just be called a hand warmer. I survey the sea of murky colours through my breath crystallising in the air, people bustling in the distance while the square is filled with crowded tables of blues, pinks and oranges huddling together for warmth. The only exception is the berth around me. I’ve never known anything else though. Everyone assumes to know who you are just by looking, where seas of people can see how happy or bright your life is by the ever shifting shades emanating from your soul. No one’s aura ever remains the same hue, well, everyone apart from me.\n\nI slowly stand from my table at the edge of the square and pretend not to notice when people shift slightly in their seats to be as far from me as possible while I make my way back towards the closest tube station. I try to make myself as inconspicuous as possible, keeping my pace swift as I pass through the barriers and down into the underground, feeling the eyes of every person piercing the back of my skull and trying to let it roll over me as the warmth of a train pulling onto the platform stops the shivering in my fingers. I continue to make myself as small as possible in a seat close to the door so I can make as few people uncomfortable as possible, quickly leaving the train the moment I can and deftly weaving between the bodies of the crowds to get back to my small studio flat.\n\nIt sometimes feels like I ask for the punctuation on my loneliness by living in one of the busiest cities on the planet, but despite the prickly disposition of the rest of the world I love people. It makes me feel as close to a world that keeps me at arm’s length as I can by at least watching it simultaneously at its best and its worst. I can’t blame people for not wanting to be around me, no one wants to be the person to corrupt the only pure white aura that they’ve seen. I only wish I knew why my soul is so clean.\n", "When I was four, I asked my mom why I could see rainbows around everyone but me. She said she didn't know much science, but it had something to do with the way light worked. I didn't understand, but didn't worry either.\n\nWhen I was in second grade, I asked my teacher why Chris's head looked like a black hole. Apparently, that was rude. I was told not to say such things.\n\nI brought the matter up again when I was 13. It was Christmas Eve. My grandmother had stopped us in the doorway to fuss over my grandfather's tie selection. After a few moments, he pushed her hands away lazily and started towards the pews. \n\n\"Honestly dear, of all the combinations you could have picked...\" She spoke kindly, but there was frustration in her voice.\n\n\"There's nothing wrong with red.\"\n\n\"No dear, it's green.\"\n\n\"Huh. Well, no matter.\"\n\n\"Why don't you just ask next time?\"\n\nHe chuckled. \"Woman, I've been colorblind since the day God put me on this good earth. HE wasn't worried if I'd pick out the right tie.\"\n\nWith her sigh of exasperation, we took our seats. A thought occurred to me.\n\n\"Grandpa, does that mean you can't tell what color grandma is?\" \n\nHe looked surprised. \"Honestly girl, we're both Scandinavian. It's hard to mistake.\"\n\n\"No, I mean Green! She's always been green.\"\n\nHe looked at me like I had sprouted an extra head. Embarrassed for reasons I didn't completely understand, I tried to smooth things over.\n\n\"You know, the lights around you. Most people are kind of boring and splotchy, but hers looks just like grass. And Father Dan is the brightest red I've ever seen. Do they look the same to you?\"\n\nHe definitely looked annoyed now. \"Lights!? I have no idea what you're talking about. You're a bit old to be rattling off that kind of nonsense.\"\n\nConfused and a little ashamed, I looked back to my grandmother for reassurance. The look she gave me scared me in a way I had never been scared before. Borderline panic. Shock. Concern. Sadness. \n\n\"Oh my.\" She whispered, before grabbing her handbag and standing. \"We should be going.\"\n\n\"Margaret! Not. Now.\" Grandpa growled out in a low voice. \n\n\"Yes. Now.\" She snapped back. This wasn't like either of them. \n\n\"After.\" He said dismissively.\n\nNeither of them said another word throughout the entire service. They didn't speak to anyone afterwards. On the drive home, they didn't even turn on the radio. My mind was racing with all the possibilities. I couldn't understand what I'd done wrong, but it must have been something bad.\n\nThe moment the front door clicked shut, my grandmother turned to me. She was wringing her hands in that way old women do when they're about to say something uncomfortable.\n\n\"Sweeie, there's something we need to tell you.\"\n" ]	2
"I took this crown from the head of the sniveling cur who wore it before me, and my sword from the hand of the self-righteous bastard who defended him. And you think to defy me?!"	[WP] "How do you think I came to sit upon this throne? Politics?! Bah!"	[ "\"Okay, sweetie, but you get up to bed in 15 minutes, and I mean it,\" said the Evil Queen to Divine Emperor Awesomus The First, Possessor of the Holy Flashlight, Conqueror of the Attic Monster, Ruler of The Mighty Tent Fort in Garage-topia.\n\n\"The Great Awesomus has considered your humble plea, and will ascend to his chambers at the appointed time. But I warn thee, foul wench, do not try the patience of-\" \n\nThe Evil Queen gave him a look of warning.\n\n\"Err, Awesomus will now retire to chambers. You have my leave to go!\"\n\n\"Okay, just be sure to bush your teeth first, honey. You have school tomorrow.\" " ]	1
	[WP] Write a scene from the zombie apocalypse where various action stars are forced to put their movie skills to the test. Actors can turn out to be hopelessly incompetent or ridiculously skilled.	[ "\nHe was making his way through the midwest and came upon me drunk as shit mowing down a herd with my grandfather's old combine. My sister had just been killed by one of the undead and I was not in the best of shape. I was too drunk to notice that some of the horde had not been killed completely 'halfies' as they have been titled. It's when you separate a z from it's legs.\n\nI had just stepped out and stumbled just before a halfy got hold of my foot, it's head exploded and I recognized the clear distinctive percussion of a magnum. That's when he walked up, and we stared each other down. I did not know what else to say.\n\n\"Babba Yaga.\"\n\nI saw him nod his head with a subtle \"Okay.\" just before I passed out.\n\nWhen I woke up I was in the truck bed of a caravan with two armed men one I recognized as Shia Labeouf.\n\n\"You okay, brother? Quite the bender your in the wake of, saw what you did to that mess of z's back there. Never seen someone take out a whole field of them before.\" \"Shia told me.\n\n\"Yeah. Well I didn't really plan on surviving it.\" I informed him.\n\n\"You're probably wondering why we snatched you up. Government mandate, all capable men of age are to report to Michigan for extermination orders. We already got ours, and we noticed that you were alone at that farm house...we assumed the worst and decided to, for the lack of a better term kidnap you.\" he informed me.\n\n\"Ain't that illegal?\" I suggested reaching for my flask, which I realized I had left in the combine.\n\n\"Was not my idea, bud,\" he replied releasing the clip in his magazine and inspecting it. \"any complaints go to the chief.\"\n\nThe other man pointed behind the truck at Keanu who was slowly trailing on a fancy looking motor bike.\n\n\"I'm Shia by the way, that's Frank.\" he gestured to the other man who remained silent.\n\n\"Terry.\" I said shaking his extended hand. \n\nI positioned myself in a crouch and sat Indian style rubbing my temples from the throb that started. I looked up and glanced ahead of the caravan as it slowed a group of about forty Z's blocked the path. They took notice and began stumbling towards their next meal.\n\nKeanu did not even slow down he just shimmied and sped past the truck and gunned it at the group. He let the bike cruise and reached for two berettas he had strapped to either side of his tank. He lit the gawkers up with rapid fire precision picking apart the center as he creeped towards them consecutive head shots dropped about eight of them.\n\nQuickly reholstering the 9's he unsheathed the machette on his back and decapitated the three closest to his right side. Then sped up the bike again and waited without looking back. I was just about to ask what was going on when the explosion made my ears ring. He had dropped two grenades in the center and I did not even notice, it cleared a hole large enough for the caravan to get through.\n\nI was seriously impressed.\n\n\"Welcome to Reeve's Reapers kid.\" Frank said handing me a bottle of water." ]	1
	[WP] You attribute your poor memory to learned behavior after blocking out a traumatic childhood. You can't remember the books you've read, movies you've seen, or memories you've had. You're beginning to realize your poor memory is due to something else	[ "She was smiling and talking to her friend. Something seemed to familiar about her. The sway in her hips, that peculier giggle, and the mischevious look in her eyes. I can't remember her, but I must know her. I absolutely must. \n\nStanding just out of her view, I keep looking up at her, but I don't want her to notice me. She's beautiful and I'm just a plain Jane. I almost feel like a stalker except we just keep passing each other. For some reason, I can't place her. Lately I haven't been able to place anything. Just the other day at the library, I couldn't recall my favorite book. And I always loved books. \n\nSomething is very wrong. I should seek help, but I haven't been able to get in touch with my psychiatrist. He was always helpful with what happened in the past. Of course, when I really need him, I can't have him. This is also a familiar feeling I can't place.\n\nBurning started around my forehead. It started to intensify the more I thought over the matter. Trying not to make much noise I rest my head in my hands. This always happens. I'm so used to it, is shouodn't hurt, but it always does. Much more than the last.\n\nShe's giggling. I can hear it from here. Looking up, she's gone. Once again, I've missed an opportunity to ask where she's from. With a sigh, I close my eyes and rest my head in my hands, the pain subsiding, like always does. Why do I fail at reaching out so much? Why can't I just be competent once in my life.\n\nI look up to a shadowly figure looming over me. I'm not as surprised as I feel like I should be, but I back up anyway. Except the wall is gone. Now panicking some, I look around. I'm right where she was standing, laughing. I can even smell traces of her perfume. \n\n\"Come with me,\" the figure says in a crackling voice.\n\n\"No...\" A thought flashes through my head. Tears. From her. She's crying and covered in blood. \n\n\"Come at once. Staying in this realm will drive you to insanity,\" it insists. \n\n\"Wait....\" I can remember. Something small. She's horrified, and I'm holding her wrists. Talking to her. Desperately reasoning with her. What's going on? \"What is this!?\" I ask the creature, now terrified. \n\n\"If you obsess over your killer you will never truly rest. Come with me before it is too late for you.\"\n\n\"My killer? I'm....I'm....dead.....?\" I remember her. She's not my friend at all. She's an actress! Julia Richards. I loved her so much, I wanted to be her friend. That's right, yes! I followed her everywhere! Finally I got into her home. Begged for her friendship. What did she do? \n\n\"She killed me!\" I said out loud anger in my voice. \"That filthy, spoiled brat stabbed me!\"\n\nThe memory was clear now. I was nothing but nice and cheerful. Trying to get close. What did she do? She grabbed a kitchen knife and told me to get away. Then she tried using those tears to have her way. After I refused to give in to her childish demands she plunged the knife into my chest. Twice! That whiney bitch. She watched me bleed to death through her tears. She betrayed everything I loved about her. \n\nThere was a sigh, the creature turned. \"It is too late,\" it let out as it disappeared. \n\nTaking a breath I called after it, \"I don't need your peace. I'll be her friend forever!\"", "I always figured memory was learned. A skill, y'know? Like those guys who memorize a deck of playing cards, or the weirdos who can recite pi to a zillion digits. Just something you flex like a muscle until you can deadlift a whole dictionary. \n\nI've got a forgettery. It's the opposite, except you don't have to flex anything but your skill in apologizing to people. Birthdays, work directives, anniversaries, they just slip by and I never remember until someone calls me up crying or starts glaring at me in silence, writing negative notes in a mental performance review. It's always the same dance: the sorries, the belated assignments, the I'll-do-better-next-times. Then the hasty scribbles in my planner, scrawled notes on my calendar, five alarms set in my phone. Then the phone goes missing. It never fails. \n\nMy therapist told me I could chalk it up to the accident. After my bones healed and I'd re-learned to walk I couldn't remember it at all. No burning flesh, no broken glass, no blood, no twisted metal. Just a big black space in my memory that started with a trip to the grocery store and ended in gauze and the stench of antiseptic. And pain. I can remember the pain, even though it's mostly gone now. \n\nToday I decided my treat would be ice cream. Every session with Dr. Mecklenburg was blocked out for the entire afternoon, even though we only talked for an hour, so the rest of the day was mine. As I left the office, I tried to think of where the little place was with the homemade waffle cones. As usual, I drew a blank. Walking from the office to the bus terminal, I passed the theater. Advertisements for the latest blockbusters glowed in the windows. I might have seen the one with the cartoon animals last week, but if I did it's gone now. A thought struck me, like lightning from the heavens: this theater had ice cream! I smiled with pride; I'd remembered! Then I noticed the outline of a swirly, cherry-topped sundae - it was the light that illuminated the theater posters from inside, at the concession stand. Damn. Oh well, a treat is a treat. \n\nAs I entered, turning to the ticket booth, I gestured to the cardboard cut out of the smug lion and the smirking rabbit by the door. \n\n\"When's the next showing?\" I asked the girl with the nose ring behind the glass. \n\n\"About twenty minutes. Back again?\" she said. \n\n\"Oh um, yeah,\" I fumbled, glancing away. \"It was pretty funny; made me feel like a kid again. I figured I'd try to recapture my youth for another afternoon.\" \n\nShe smiled. \"Well it's ten fifty for the matinee. Don't forget your ice cream, you seemed pretty excited about it last time.\" \n\nAs I paid, she looked behind me, a curious expression on her face. \"Where's your friend?\" \n\nI froze, panicking. \"Um, had an appointment today. This one's just for me.\" \n\nShe nodded, solemn. \"He looked pretty sick, I hope everything turns out ok. Enjoy the movie!\" \n\nWalking away toward the concessions counter I wracked my brain. After the accident I moved into the city because I couldn't drive anymore. My dad helped me with the furniture, but his arthritis had kept him from doing too much. I'd overpaid for the movers, but I'd only realized it later when my checks started to bounce. Had I brought him here with me before? \n\nI pulled the phone from my purse and scrolled through the contacts, jabbing at his number, holding the phone to my ear as I pretended to peruse the menu of snacks. \n\ndoop doop doop, The number you are calling is no longer in service. Please check the number and try your call again. Message D-55. \n\nOh right. Dad was dead. \n\nWho did I bring here? \n\nThe attendant was looking at me funny. Hastily I hung up, mumbling apologies, and glanced at the menu again. \n\n\"One small sundae please, with whipped cream.\" The clerk shrugged, and rang up the ice cream. I handed over my crumpled bills, and as he dropped my change into my hand he slid the sundae over the counter. \n\n\"Just the one today?\" He said, nonchalant. \n\n\"Yeah, it's just me today.\" Everyone seemed to remember the last time I was here. \n\nAs I handed over my ticket and ambled to the dim, cool interior of the theater, I struggled with the empty spaces in my head. I'd been here before, to this cinema, to this movie, with this ice cream, with someone I wholly didn't remember at all. Usually I can make my way through the day with only minor inconvenience from my condition, but how could I forget an entire person? Especially someone who would amount to be my only friend here? \n\nI sat way in the back, under the projector so I got a nice view of the whole screen. There wasn't anyone else in here yet, just me. The advertisements stopped and the lights faded, and as cartoon logos and credits began to roll, I heard the shuffle of feet and the muted thump as someone sat down nearby. I turned, to see a pale face in the dark, looking at me. \n\n\"I'm sorry I'm late,\" a voice rasped in a whisper. Where the reflected light from the screen shone and danced over the face, it cast shadows over the eyes; dark pools staring unblinking. \"I knew we'd be meeting again today but I had some things to do.\" \n\nShakily I set down the little sundae bowl I'd been clenching, spilling little drops of ice cream on the cup holder of my seat. \n\n\"I-I'm sorry, but I have a condition, i-if we've met you probably know already,\" I whispered back, fighting a rising sense of panic; \"W-who are you?\" \n\n\"You know who I am, Savannah. We met that day at the grocery store, when the gas main decided to go.\" The voice creaked in the dark, dry. Withered. Scratching against uncomfortable places in my mind. \"You were the only one left to see me, I'm afraid. I'm the one responsible for the terrible time you're having with the remembering.\" \n\nHusky and slithery, the quiet voice tumbled around in my head, little shrieks and pops and flashes of fire tickling away in the back of my skull. It was there, in little fits and starts, but I didn't want to see it. I couldn't. Sweating in the air-conditioned theater, little beads of cold perspiration dripping off my brow as animated animals cavorted and laughed on the screen, I couldn't. They were slipping around the voids, nimbly screaming and weeping and bleeding, the memories of that terrible day. Who I saw. Who sat next to me now. \n\nShivering, I shook my head as tears began to leak out of my eyes, whispering fiercely back at the sallow figure next to me. \n\n\"I don't want to remember!\" \n\nThe pale form chuckled, rasping like sandpaper over stone. \"I know Savannah, we've made this bargain already. You donate good memories, the interesting ones that matter, and I keep the bad ones. Until we have our last appointment.\" \n\nThe memories crowding and scraping at my consciousness began to recede, and the tightness in my chest loosened. I took a deep breath, and another. The animals on screen sang and danced. The dark figure smiled widely and turned to face the screen, murmuring.\n\n\"I do like this film Savannah, so pay attention. Your sundae is melting.\"\n\nI picked it up and ate a spoonful, licking at the chocolate sauce as the colors of the film radiated overhead, forgetting my date with death all over again." ]	2
	[WP] ...And it only cost you your soul.	[ "Time was ticking, and the Dark Lord Satan was losing patience. He promptly lit the cigarette in his mouth with a flame from the tip of his index finger.\n\n“C’mon kid. I don’t have all day,” he coughed out. “Make up your mind already.”\n\nThe adolescent boy stood with his back to the bathroom stall, his upper body still tense and bottom lip protruding. Head tilted downward and baseball cap shielding his eyes, his expression was unreadable.\n\n“You’ll actually do it?” he said, his voice a monotone. They had been sitting here for nearly three hours, the boy contemplating, and Satan afraid that his legs would give out from crouching on the toilet. School was over, and they had yet to be interrupted.\n\n“Yes,” Satan said, exasperated. He brushed off some of the ash from his red suit before pulling out another cigarette. “For the umpteenth time, yes. In exchange for your soul, I’ll make sure your bullies pay for everything they did to you. I’ll make sure they’ll pay for the years and years of undue suffering. And if you make me explain it one more time the deal’s off.”\n\n“You promise?” His voice cracked as he spoke, his crossed arms fidgeting. The boy’s face was still wet from tears, and he was sniffling.\n\nNo wonder nobody is wondering where this kid is. Yeesh.\n\nThe process of deliberation was killing the boy. Normally, Satan enjoyed these types of deals. When he wasn’t in a disgusting bathroom stall built for middle schoolers.\n\n“Yes!”\n\n“Deal.”\n\nSatan grinned, throwing his cigarette into the toilet before clapping his hands.\n\n“And a deal it is!” He let out a sinister laugh as he snapped both of his fingers.\n\nInstantaneously, the deed was done. Soon, the boy’s tormentors would be experiencing unimaginable torture, each one having their own special punishment. Their own personal hell. And they’d be lucky to make it through the night.\n\nSatan stood up on the toilet seat, taking care to hunch his back so he wouldn’t smack his head into the wall.\n\n“Well kid, I suppose I’ll be seeing you again in hell. It’s been nice doing busine-“ Satan’s voice came to an abrupt halt when he heard it, his eyes widening as he peered down at the boy. It was unmistakable.\n\nLaughter.\n\n“I think you’ve misunderstood. You see, the pleasure was all mine.” The boy pulled off his cap, revealing a crop of red hair. He turned his face upward, his green eyes bulging with a wide, unsettling smile on his face. “I didn’t think you’d fall for that pathetic, sobbing act so easily though.”\n\nSatan loomed over the boy, teeth gritted and his fists clenched. Small streams of smoke were flaring out of his nostrils from sheer rage.\n\nShit. How did I not realize?!\n\n“Why, don’t we look mighty upset?” The boy made a pouting face, mocking him. “Thinking you made a good deal only to find out there’s no soul to be had? Poor baby.”\n\nThe boy let out another laugh as he pulled on his cap, and unlatched the stall door.\n\n“Thanks for doing my dirty work. Those kids know better than to screw with me, but that’s why I chose them. And it’s kind of hard to go on a killing spree and not get caught when I can’t even drive yet.” He turned his back towards the Devil and exited the stall, swinging the door open with a bang. Cocking his head to the side, he stared up at Satan. “Well, I guess this is goodbye for good. Although you’ll probably hear all about my escapades in the next few years.”\n\nThe boy’s hands skimmed the pea green stall doors as he casually strode toward the exit. Satan stumbled out of the stall, watching him with furrowed browns and mouth agape in disbelief.\n\nNow halfway out the door, the boy tossed his head in Satan’s direction, offering him a look of pity.\n\n“By the way,” the boy said with a sigh. “Red really isn’t your color.”\n\nThe door swung shut behind him, leaving behind a disgraced Dark Lord.\n\nAnd soon, the boy would discover, the seeds of vengeance." ]	1
	[WP] Who is she?	[ "\"Who is she!?\" I could hear her yelling through the bathroom door. My wife was going through my phone (A daily ritual since I was caught cheating 4 months ago) and she had found a recent text that I'm assuming upset her. I however was more preoccupied with finding out if her face scrub had plastic micro beads or pieces of sand in it. I've been relegated to reading labels of cleaning products during my morning visit to the porcelain harbor to drop anchor. I have done nothing wrong since that christmas party four months ago and I wasn't worried because I had nothing to hide. \n\nHer pounds were getting more intense and I could hear her getting more angry at my refusal to answer her the first time. \n\n\"Who the FUCK is she, Tom!? Whose CUM_DUMPSTER huh!?\"\n\nI quietly snorted under my breath at the absurdity of my life right now. I finished swabbing my poop deck and casually opened the door to find my wife glowing red like a 90's video game boss about to perish. Her veins pulsing and her mouth seething with anger, little white puddles of unwiped spit were at her mouth corners. She always was a little cute when she was mad. \n\nI laughed and said, \"Whose what now?\" \n\nShe shoved my phone an inch away from my face and expected me to interpret everything i was seeing in that instant before she yanked it back and said \n\n\"SEE, I CAUGHT YOU RED HANDED!\" Now who the fuck is she and why is she \n\n-Her head looks back down at the messages-\n\n[bringing over lube tomorrow to help clean things out.] What kind of fucked up shit are you into!?\"\n\nIt was at that moment that three thoughts popped into my head at the same instant. \n -I'm going to kill my little brother\n -My mother really needs to start proof reading her texts\n -There's no way She's believing this story. \n\nThis moment I was in right now, trying to avoid setting my wife off into a muderous rage while simultaneously realizing that Occam's Razor is bullshit,....and that I hadn't wiped properly in my haste, was going to be a tricky one to get out of. I calmly asked her to please hear my side of the story and told her what I realized had happened. \n\nWhile visiting my mother yesterday my little brother, as he is want to do, apparently changed my contact info as he has done before. He changed the name of my mom to CUM_DUMPSTER because he's 15 and of course. Then, Mom sent a text saying she was going to bring over LUPE the maid to help clean the place up. I was going to clean the house for our anniversary. \n\nTo see the shift in my wife was like watching the Hulk become Bruce Banner. Well I guess it would be She-Hulk turning into...Whoever that bitch was. Point is she calmed down and I could finally finish my morning routine. When I turned the shower on and began to crack a nice little smile, I realized that I deserved a fucking medal. Thing is, CUM_DUMPSTER is my boss. I started working for her company about 4 months ago. \n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Several light years away, on a mission to save the human race. You wake up from a cryogenic sleep along side 8 of your spaceships crew members, as you begin to enter the orbit of a planet similar to earth.	[ "As you wake from the slumber, you feel the headache pounding in your head. But that's not all you feel. As the rest of your sensations return, you reflexively bend over in abdominal pain and bring your knees up into a fetal position. The reaction causes you to launch and drift around the command & control room like an infant bouncing off the walls and ceiling.\n\n\"How are you feeling Captain?\" Said the doctor, drinking some amber liquid from a medical bag with a red \"X\" over the medication that was probably once a glucose solution for re-hydration.\n\n\"What's it look like.\" You grunt in return. By being the only male in the command crew, I guess it was kind of lucky for the ship to be a generation ship. But very unlucky being \"blue balled\" before the cryogenic process. \n\n \"Like someone just kicked you in the go-nads.\" She responds.\n\nAnother grunt leaves your mouth before you respond. \"How would you feel if you were in my shoes, being the only male in command, and your command crew are all dressed like '7 of 9'.\"\n\n\"Who?\" The doctor responds.\n\n\"Never mind. The pre-launch photo made me look like Hugh Hefner...\"\n\n\"DAMMIT!\" Said the Lieutenant loudly upon exiting her cryogenic chamber.\n\n\"Headache?\" asked the doctor.\n\n\"No.\" The Lieutenant replies, \"I lost the bet.\"\n\n\"Bet, what bet?\" I respond still drifting around like a newborn.\n\n\"I chose the outfits and made a bet with the doctor about... your... predicament.\"\n\n\"And?\" I respond trying to stretch.\n\n\"It cost me my only bag of single malt.\" The Lieutenant says while slinging a similar medical fluid bag the doctor was drinking from. ", "We had trained for it, yet the wakeup was indescribably brutal. Before I could even think of opening my eyes, the pressure of countless half-remembered dreams and faint recollections fractured my brain. My skin burned as if taking a shower with a particle accelerator. The cryo-gel in my lungs, stomach, and bowels liquefied, oozing from me in rusty streams. My eyelids were unfused by a medical spray; vision returned slowly, in painful patches. Only thing I was grateful for were our separate chambers, which spared us the embarrassment of worming and snivelling on the floor naked in front of other crewmates. \n\nMy first conscious step was to self-administer a complex cocktail of drugs to help restart the immune system and metabolism. Next was a purifying and regenerating bath, meant to accelerate hair regrowth, mend the skin, and penetrate down to muscle and fat tissues. Finally, a sadistic shot of gene regulators and chemical imbalance controllers straight into the spine. I heard a faint yelp from the adjoining chamber, no doubt Major Sekiwamu.\n\nThe general grogginess and nausea would stick around for weeks, but all nine of us were functional enough to commence priority operations. Following a modest meal and several hours in the physical re-education room, the Commander called a meeting in the control module. Once Major Izquierda had set up the screens and initialized a system scan, we recited the Explorer’s Prayer and sat down in lotus position.\n\n“I wish you serenity.” The Commander greeted.\n\n“And clarity upon you.” We murmured in reply.\n\n“Let me begin by saying how proud and honour-”\n\n“God damn it!” Colonel Globovitch had forgot that it would take time for our urinary and gastrointestinal tracts to regain full function. Without a diaper, his uniform was now voided. Commander Al-Biltagi arched her eyebrows and resumed the meeting. \n\n“We’ve got to report back to Earth asap. Mersten, if you would be so kind as to collect all the analytics, as well as crew feedback. Yamagata, have a draft ready by 23:00; I will proofread and send. Everyone else, you know your schedules. Our mission has formally begun.” She closed with a smile.\n\n“Ok let’s colonize this b!” roared Neigeux triumphantly. Annoyed, Tushford turned her head at him. \n\n“What? I meant Proxima Centauri b.”" ]	2
	[WP] Astronauts from the ESA land at a new site on the moon. There, they discover an abandoned Soviet LK lander with bodies inside.	[ "Lunar Orbit, Descending\n\nThe Lander Riccioli steadily made its final approach towards the lonely far side of the Moon. It was the first ESA mission to the Moon, and the three astronauts were calm in the descent capsule as the automatic systems performed their duties.\n\npop pop pop - Little bursts of thrust adjusted Riccioli's velocity. Telemetry relayed through the Collins Network, a set of GPS-like communication and positioning satellites that had been established around the Moon in the decade running up to the mission. \n\nRiccioli was the first of a new wave of exploration. She would not be left alone.\n\nThe final burn went exactly as planned, and the three newest Lunar Explorers felt barely a bump. Within a few seconds the good news was relayed to Earth, and the world was able to celebrate, once again, humans on the Moon.\n\n* * \n\nHouston, Earth: Three Years Ago\n\n\"Travis & Anna, it is our pleasure and privilege to extend an offer of employment on Hotel Cygnus for 100 orbits, with option to renew if all parties agree.\"\n\nAnna set down her tablet. \"Wow.\"\n\n\"Wow.\" Travis broke into a huge smile. \"We made it. We made it! Woo!\" He jumped up and started celebrating like he had just made a game winning goal in v-ball. \n\nAnna stayed seated. \"Wow.\" Her head shook quickly, her attention snapping-to. \"I'll message them back, let them know we accept.\"\n\n\"Heck yes, we accept! Yeah!\" Travis wrapped his arms around Anna. \"We've got a shot, babe! We've got a heck of a shot!\"\n\n\"We've cleared the first hurdle. Lot more to go.\"\n\n\"But we can celebrate this one! Dinner, a night out, the works! Comeon!\"\n\nAnna smiled. \"We'll celebrate this one.\"\n\nTravis pumped his fist in the air as he walked over to the kitchen to call a car to take them out to dinner.\n\n * \n\nLunar Farside, Surface\n\nThings had come a long way since the cramped aluminum can of Apollo: the Riccioli's habitat had expanded without incident, affording each astronaut several cubic meters of real personal space. Although the deployment checklist was long -- checking on the reactor, checking on the ISRU units, making sure backup communications were in place -- they couldn't help but take a few minutes to settle into their quarters as soon as they were available. \n\n\"You know,\" said Big Mo to Maria and Nikolas as he took in the little common area that connected the three quarters, \"any fancier and we'd be on the Hotel Cygnus!\"\n\n * \n\nBrownsville Launch Complex, Three Years Ago\n\nThe roar of the rocket would have been deafening without hearing protection, and the heavy hand of thrust pushed everyone down into their launch chairs. Travis and Anna were strapped in and although they couldn't hold hands, they looked over at each other as much as they were able to. They had finally left the ground. \n\nThe launch window was tight: Cygnus was on a highly eccentric orbit, with an apogee past the Lunar Orbit. It was meant to provide beautiful views of Earth, but to also let the mother planet recede away enough to let guests really feel like they were out in space, travellers in the void. Every few days Cygnus would hit its perigee and that was the usual spot for exchanging guests, supplies, and crews.\n\nIt was amazing that the flight to LEO was so short, but they didn't have a lot of time to think about it: in front of them was the huge, multi-module international space venture incorporating zero-g manufacturing, more than a few University extensions, public/private research partnerships, and a six-star hotel. But far from being snobbish, the Hotel Cygnus prided itself on having accommodations for anyone who could afford the flight up. So, for a surprising fraction of your rocket fare you could book, for an orbit, a cubicle with a sleeping bag, a pass to a pouch-food buffet and a key to a shared grav-toilet … and the second most incredible view ever experienced by human beings: the Blue Marble, mother to humanity, the Earth hanging in the dark.\n\n * \n\nLunar Farside, Riccioli Lander and Habitat, Outside\n\n\"This…\" said Nikolas, \"is the most incredible view ever seen by humans. Our ancestral home, nowhere to be seen.\"\n\n\"It is a lot to take in. It would make me dizzy, if I saw it all at once, and not through a faceplate or a scanner,\" Big Mo added. \"Maria, about those scanners...\"\n\n\"All set. I believe that finishes our landing checklist, Commander.\"\n\n\"I agree. Let's go inside, take a rest period, and be ready to start the mission programs tomorrow.\"\n\nThree dusty figures started their walk around the habitat to the suit hardpoints, a day's job well done. The evening meant relaxation, a time to settle in and adjust. The morning, they would start looking: areas where more habitats could be landed, craters that were the right shape and orientation to build space telescopes, trying to find lava-tube formations where, maybe far in the future, a city could be built. They were shaping destiny, outlining humanity's footprint on a new world.\n\n * \n\nThe Hotel Cygnus, Three Years Ago\n\n\"Finally, we'd like to welcome Anna, and her husband Travis.\" The New Expedition Crew meeting was well underway. \"Anna?\"\n\n\"I'm going to be working in the Engineering Section, one of the Systems Engineers, Life Support with a sideline in propulsion. I previously worked for BlueSpace and I interned with NASA, of course.\"\n\nHellos and Welcomes were politely repeated.\n\n\"I'm Travis. And I'm really excited to be here! Ah … can I go ahead and talk about this?\"\n\nThe GM nodded.\n\n\"I'm a historian. So you're probably wondering, why did Cygnus ship me up? Are we expecting something big to happen? Did we find the first aliens, maybe? Well. I am just as pleased as I can be to announce: the first orbital museum of space history, of any history, will be built out and hosted in H Module of the Cygnus complex and will be administered by the Hotel. When people want to learn about the history of humans off of the planet, the very best place to learn about it will literally be off of the planet. Here. At the Hotel Cygnus.\"\n\nThe room erupted with applause. \n\nTravis shook hands and answered questions for about an hour. When he had finally made his way back to his shared quarters, Anna was already there; she had found an excuse to sneak out.\n\nHe pulled her in, and they floated together in that unique way that could only happen in space, to touch skin without pressure. \"Everyone's pretty excited.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"We're gonna pull this off. It's only a matter of time.\" He floated, quiet. \"You sure you still ... want to do it?\"\n\nShe looked out the small porthole, into the inky black. \"I have to.\" Her eyes filled with tears and she had to blink and rub them away.\n\nOne hit the porthole and splattered making a field of false stars.\n\n * \n\nLunar Farside, Riccioli Lander and Habitat, One Month after Landing\n\nIt was Maria's turn on the Scanner Bay. All of the jobs rotated on a regular basis; it kept the three member crew cross-trained and engaged. But of all the jobs, the Scanner set was her favorite, getting to soak in all of the details of the Farside.\n\nBig Mo stuck his head into the Scanner Bay cubicle and watched for a moment. \"I bet you spent a lot of time looking at maps when you were a kid.\"\n\n\"Yes, actually.\" She smiled at her screen, but didn't bother spinning around in her chair. \"I would spin a VR globe and just look around for ... hold on.\" Maria adjusted a few controls, and the image changed its color spectrum. A spot stood out. \n\n\"Metallic.\" Big Mo leaned out of the cube. \"Nikolas! Get over here!\"\n\n * \n\nThe Hotel Cygnus, Two Years Ago\n\nThe Cygnus Space Museum had been successful beyond expectations. Travis was now the curator of the single largest collection of human space hardware anywhere. He had even gotten a favorable response from the Smithsonian when he asked if he could take a few of humanity's more priceless objects on loan. As far as his career went, he was at the top of his orbit.\n\nCygnus was at the bottom of hers and so the usual transfer of people and things was underway. A large classroom group was coming up on a dockable transport; even if they weren't renting rooms, the Hotel was still providing the rest of the necessities of life in space. And of course even educational visitors of the Museum still had to contribute to the Operating Fund.\n\nBut Travis wasn't at the airlock to meet the gradeschoolers and their teachers who had come up to see his collection, like he usually did. Today, he was in the Engineering Section of Cygnus, where the cargo came in. Anna met him in a corridor and they floated down together.\n\n\"Hey Travis! Shouldn't you be with the kids?\" called out one of the staff engineers who knew him.\n\n\"I've got some cargo coming in.\"\n\n\"You usually let us handle that! Must be something special!\"\n\n\"You could say that! See ya later!\"\n\nAnna grabbed Travis's hand and squeezed it. He felt a little tremble in her grip.\n\n\"He has no idea,\" she whispered.\n\nThey floated into the docked cargo transport. Carefully balanced cargo containers were arranged around the walls. They stopped at the largest one. It had a simple stencil: \n\nCygnus Space Museum\nLK-20 (Soviet)\n\n\"This is it.\" Anna spun around to look at Travis. \"I want to get to work, right away.\"\n\n-=Next Part Below=-*" ]	1
	[WP] Aboard interstellar spaceships, the most reliable navigation tool for locating distant stars is an authentic Viking sunstone.	[ "\"Waaayy back before the AI Rising in 2389, we relied upon a given ship's AI to navigate through the vacuum of space. Their ability to orient themselves between the constantly moving systems and calcuate a suitable trajectory for a warp jump proved invaluable for in our initial century of spacetravel.\" The professor turned back towards the board, bringing up a simulation of the ship in the middle of space. \"Now whilst our personal VI, Wahn,\" He pointed to the small avatar of the our ship, the Aspirant Wanderer. The translucent figure gazed back at us with cold, lifeless eyes as we observed it. \"Is more than capable of creating a rough two-dimensional representation of where we are, it cannot account for extreme distances or our destination's location on a 3D landscape.\"\n\nThe VI, remembering the next stage of the lesson, projected it's map onto the board over the simulation of the Aspirant. According to Wahn, we had already arrived at Decadence III and were floating just outside of the colony's spaceport. \"And, as you can see, it can make mistakes. That'll do Wahn, thank you for your time.\" He waved the VI away as he turned back towards the class, rummaging through his desk in the process.\n\n\"Now, going even further back to when Earth was habitable, old seafarers used something akin to this,\" He pulled a small circular piece of notched glass out from a draw and held it for the class to see. \"Can anyone tell me what this is called? Anyone? Well, this is called a Sunstone. They used them to find Earth's sun, Sol, if they could not see it at night or in a storm and this allowed them to accurately ensure that they were sailing in the right direction.\"\n\nThe class looked blankly back at the professor, not registering a word of what he was saying. \"As I am sure you learned in Geology, crystals mined from a system magnify the light from it's star regardless of the distance. This one, for instance, was mined in the Decadence system.\" He moved around his desk and meandered towards one of the reinforced windows of the room and held the stone away from himself.\n\n\"As you may be able to see, the light from the sun from Decadence is being magnified by the Sunstone. These notches on the surface dictate the distance, which we can measure against the magnification. For example, I can see that we are currently 50000km away from the system and I know the direction from finding simply searching for the sun with the stone. Taking our current speed into account, we will arrive at the colony in roughly a fortnight.\"\n\nA huge sigh of relief filled the air when the ship's VI announced the turn of the hour, and the students began to drag themselves out of their seats. \"This'll come up in next weeks test! If you're feeling unsure about this or want to know more, just use your personal terminals to access the ship archives!\"\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------\nHope it lived up to your expectations, u/electronicSamurai!" ]	1
EDIT: I just noticed this prompt also falls under the [TT] category.	[WP]You are a shady funeral director who makes a pretty penny selling organs from the dead that are to be cremated. One day, you cut into a fresh corpse, and to your horror, the torso cavity is completely empty. Suddenly, the corpse's bloodshot eyes snap open.	[ "Bless heroin dealers! Every time a dealer increases the potency of his product or layers antifreeze to save a dollar, a slew of dope fiends dies. Most of them have no family or money. So they're carted to my funeral parlor; where I don't have to worry about open-casket funerals or applying foundation to a wench's dead cheeks. Money trickles from whatever source I can manage. If this means selling a kidney or two to Chinese opium dealers, then so be it. They'll make more use of it than the dead. \n\nThe dead that arrived today were especially useless, even for dead people, the most egalitarian group of beings since Newton computed derivates in his Ledger book. There were two Mexican immigrants, the grass stains still on their jeans. Some old convict who kicked the bucket in a penitentiary. And then the genius who overdosed on battery acid and cleaning fluid. I started with him first. The skinny ones are always easier to dissect. Have you ever harvested an obese person's organs? The give isn't worth the take, in my humble opinion. \n\nThis dope fiend was relatively young, but all the same he made his choices. I opened him up and stared into darkness. The mind isn't meant to process something like that. I stared at the hollow corpse dumbly, like anyone would. And then two red eyes broke my stupor. Some luck! The junkie rose from the ashes he didn't snort. His face twisted, his body convulsed, and then he screeched. \n\nAnd that's why I'm here, Saint Peter. I bet none of the corpses I harvested got into your precious pearly gates! So, in a sense, you can say that I've done a service to the lord!\n\nWhat's that look? Why are you frowning? I'm just a simple business owner! The economy is in ruins, oh, but I bet you let every wealthy banker with blood on his hands sup the ambrosia of your fruit trees! God forbid the little guy do what he can to make a buck! Where am I? Oh, this doesn't seem so bad. It's just a large room of muscular men. Wait, why are they lighting candles and smiling at me?\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] The controversy around Dungeons and Dragons never died down and only got worse. Playing the game is now a federal crime. This is the story of an underground D&D group.	[ "\"Come on it'll be fine, Annie. Don't worry.\"\n\n\"But Dave, isn't this illegal?\" Annie tightened her grip on Dave's arm as they walked under an abandoned highway. She saw in the distance men gathered around a fire, holding what looked like to be sheets of paper.\n\n\"Don't worry, this guy is a professional.\" Dave held up his free hand as a sign of peace as the men spotted him and his girlfriend. \"Follow my lead.\"\n\n\"Stop!\" A skinny man walked up with a shorter man in tow. He was dressed as an elf. \"Who goes there.\"\n\n\"Who there Zenon?\" The shorter man, who was dressed as a dwarf, said. \"It's you!\"\n\n\"You know this Human?\"\n\n\"Aye, I know this man. He wishes to see. . .the One.\"\n\n\"Can he be trusted? After all...\" The elf eyed the girl latched onto Dave. \"...he has. . .a girlfriend.\"\n\n\"Girl!\" Came a distant shout.\n\nThey all turned to the fire where a hunchback shifting through pieces of paper. The elf and dwarf signaled that is was ok to approach, for the One has taken an interest.\n\nDave and Anne sat opposite the One as the dwarf and elf stood guard.\n\n\"I have heard girls once before. I thought they were myths.\" The hunchback's cough was sickly. The One looked to the girl. \"Why have you come?\"\n\n\"She's with me!\" Dave smiled, proudly holding onto his girl friend's waist. \"She's my girlfriend!\"\n\n\"Dark arts!\" The Hunchback cursed, glaring at Dave. \"You have consorted with evil powers that threaten to taint our cabal!\"\n\n\"All I did was buy her a drink...\"\n\n\"No excuses,\" The One snarled quietly, but his gaze softened when he looked at the girl. \"Though. . .I suppose we are in need of. . .an enchantress.\"\n\nThe one dug into his pocket and pulled out a blank character sheet. He filled the sheet out like a master, creating an enchantress character with a perfect stat distribution. He laid it down. With everyone watching in anticipation, shock filled the air as the One pulled out a dragon out to battle the level 1 enchantress.\n\nThe elf gasped \"My lord! She can't handle a dragon at level 1! That's too much for her!\"\n\n\"Aye!\" The dwarf agreed. \"Ye be crazy!\"\n\nThe one simply smiled, placing down a d20 dice. 'Roll' he mouthed. \n\nThe girl rolled.\n\nNatural\n\nFucking \n\n20\n\nEuphoria unlike any other. More pleasurable, more extreme than anything that could have been imagined. Annie's eyes were awakened to a world of possibilities. Around her, the boys ran wild, screaming a battle cry of 'wombo combo' into the night sky.\n\nPolice sirens cut through the excitement. Now, it was terror's time to rule the night.\n\n\"Shit! It's the cops!\"\n\n\"Let's get out of here Annie.\" Dave grabbed the dazed girl by her arm and ran away. \"We need to get out of here!\"\n\n\"Come!\" The dwarf beckoned them to follow \"I will show you the escape route!\"\n\nAs the trio escaped and the area turned into shades of blue and red, the elf held up his plastic bow. To the elf's horror, the One was still there.\n\n\"My lord! You have to leave! I will hold them back!\" Without even looking, the elf lets an imaginary arrow fly sending a cop down into the hard snow.\n\n\"I can't!\" The Hunchback laid out all his character sheets and rolling dices like mad. \"I have to do this, now! Now was the time! I've collected all the characters I can in preparation for this!\" \n\n\"What are you doing?!\" The elf screamed. \"The more dice you roll the likely your character will die! Are you mad?!\"\n\n\"I have to!\" The One let a tear escape his eyes. \"This will be my legacy. The other dungeon masters think this is impossible to achieve but I will prove them wrong! I will create the greatest hero EVER!\"\n\n\"The greatest hero ever?\" The elf laughed, dropping his bow to the ground. \"My god, I've been following a mad man this whole time. . .all I am, all I've become! All for nothing...\"\n\n\"No not for nothing! I will...!\" The hunchback stopped, frozen at the sight of his last dice roll. It was a 1. The hunchback's eyes rolled back. And he was gone.\n\n\"The dungeon master is dead!\" Yelled a cop. \"Get the accomplice!\"\n\n\"No, no, NO!\" The elf grabbed onto the fallen hunchback as tears welled from his eyes. Even as the cops arrived to arrest him, the elf held on to the fallen dungeon master. \"You crazy son of a bitch! You were the best of us! You were the best of us! You were meant to bring peace to our lands! Instead, you massacred countless characters for what! I was a fool to believe in you! A FOOL!\"\n\nIn the distance, Dave, Anne and the Dwarf stood on a hillside, looking to the distant lights of the cop cars and the woefull cries of the Elf. Anne placed her hand on the tearful Dwarf's shoulders.\n\n\"What are you going to do now?\"\n\nThe Dward sucked in his hurt and stood tall as stone. \"I will retreat back into my ancient mines within the great mountains. Once there, I will gather my strength...\" He clenched his fists. \"...And then, I will have my revenge.\"\n\n\"Come on, Annie.\" Dave said. \"Let's go.\"\n\nAs Dave lead Annie away from the dwarf, the girl looked amazed at the bravery she had seen that day and at the dwarf who stood alone on the snowy hill top. This, she knew, was the beginning of a legend.\n\nThe Dwarf took out a phone. \"Hey mum. . .Yea can you pick me up?\"\n\n...This is a stupid story." ]	1
	[WP] Dragons are real, they were never myths nor were they ever extinct. Write about dragons in a time period other than the typical medieval/fantasy (i.e Future, Modern, Victorian, Roman etc.).	[ "\"Mahri, stop staring, it's rude.\" I flicked a finger against his haunch on my shoulder, making him jolt.\n\n\"It's hard not to...that guy uses cursed words so rapidly I wonder if he passed your english classes.\" The Blue, elongated Dragon with a slightly toonish look to his features settled back down, draped across the back of my neck and on my shoulders. Mahri never really tired of flying, as he had no wings and just defied gravity with his \"Divine Fire\" as he put it, but he had taken to lounging on me. \"Eastern\" Dragons were known for keeping \"Professional Distance\" from their Bondsmates, but we were far less formal. This had gotten us into trouble a few times with other Dragons and Dragon-bonded, while others saw it as a sign to trust us a little more, so it kind of washes out.\n\nI sighed, turning us away as the man looked ready to see if it was one of us who said that. \"Really, Mahri, must you voice every little thought?\"\n\nHe looked at me dryly. \"And you humans do not? You among all people should not be speaking on the matter, Jesse Hyde.\"\n\nOuch...he had me there. I had a heavily opinionated podcast, after all. Hyde and Seek wasn't exactly popular, but I DID have a following for doing exactly what I accused him of.\n\nI was about to try to defend my point when I felt him stiffen on my back, whiskers flaring out. \"Evil!\"\n\n\"What? Now? We're at the mall! The worst you'll see here is line cutting, or some lady leaving her kid alone in the game store while she shops.\" Come on, I don't wanna do this. I know I swore an oath when I became Dragon-Bonded, but if I knew it would cut into my life THIS much, what with there being so few in my town...\n\n\"Second floor, 50 metres ahead.\" He hissed.\n\nI thought about the mall from where we were. \"That's a women's clothing store, the new World Health that opened last month, and...\" I paused. I didn't remember the name, but \"...A jewelery store.\" I was already picking up speed, taking the escalator by twos, apologizing to people I had to force past.\n\n...Yep...worse, the Mall Cops had already shown up, and apparently been blown away...none looked seriously hurt, thank gods, only stunned or unconscious. I ran up to check one, only to then think my attention should be towards the storefront.\n\nWell, I expected Ski Masks and bland coats...I didn't expect a Dragon as our opponent! Or rather, a dragon-man...clearly another Bondsman with a less scrupulous partner. He had his back to us, but not for long, sniffling as he turned around.\n\n\"I smell Apple Polish...\" He sneered at us in two voices...an amalgam of the person and dragon in one body, they were clearly in synch. He was a sickly green and pale gold in colour, Western in style, his claws and horns black. \"Look kid, I don't want to actually KILL anyone, so why don't you lie down, hands on your head, and my boys and I will be on our way.\"\n\nI hated this part. Everything that came to mind when I had to do this job sounded so trite, so cliche...and yet it just came before I could come up with better. \"You know the answer to that offer. I'm sworn to protect both man and dragon from their darker kin.\"\n\n\"Going the Hero route, huh? Pity. I hear Easterns are rare around these parts.\" He cracked his knuckles, a disgusting smoke the same colour as his scales trailing from his nostrils. \"If I gotta melt someone to get my point across, so be it.\"\n\nMahri was already climbing down to...and IN, my chest, the surface rippling like water as he passed. My view climbed slowly higher as my skin took on the same hue as my Dragon partner, a pattern of scales fading in before becoming the real thing...though there was no pain, the sound of my bones and muscles reconfiguring themselves was still unsettling. Only people from the outside can really call the change beautiful. In first person, it feels incredibly awkward, like becoming naked in front of a crowd. As the change finished, I felt Mahri's divine fire become OUR divine fire, and my clawed feet left the ground.\n\n\"Repent upon the choices that led us to you, rogue bondsmen.\" Mahri and I said as one. \"And seek no mercy, for we have none.\" Ugh, who writes this crap? Every Dragon I know uses these lines, SOMEONE had to come up with it.\n\nOur opponent growled and charged toward us, eager for the first strike. And so to battle, one of dozens I'd had in only a few months since Mahri came into my life.\n\nI like him and all, but...all this playing superhero...some days you just wanna go out for a Cheeseburger, you know?", "I had a lot of adventures with him. My asian dragon. I named him red snake. That's what he reminded me of,an scrawny red snake moving through our town. That was years ago. Now it's my daughter's third birthday party. She had always been fascinated by my stories of Red. Her favorite picture was of me riding on his back through a forest. \n\n\nSo,I took her to the local hatchery. There was one just starting to hatch in the asian section. It's head poked out of the shell and let out a little smoke ring. My daughter held out her hand out. It scrambled up to it and curled around it in a circle,then walked up her arm. \n\nShe looked up at me and said \" Can I have this one,daddy? \" You can guess what happened. ", "The Right to Flight\n\n**\n\nCivilization had convinced itself that it had tamed them; that the beasts had gone the way of cattle and succumbed to domestication. It accepted the claim that the bit and the bridle was enough, as it had been for the bucking plains bronco, to break the spirit and bow the head. There were some things that were never meant to be controlled. Alternatives had to be discovered.\n\nMost had never even seen one. It was true that they were not myth, but in reality, the common man had at best only ever encountered one through the many articles and illustrated scientific journals peddled in the heart of the city or through the extremely rare cursory sightings of one flying overhead. It was either through exceptional luck or profound misfortune that one might find himself at arms length of one of these creatures and yet those who had, either known or unknown to them, had been inducted into a special group. While the ignorant masses either shied away from the topic or took up an unhealthy interest in the affairs of such beasts; this group had become privy to a terrible secret. The truth that they could not be trusted; for when you look into the eyes of a dragon, you instantly understand that you control nothing. \n\nThere were two men who understood this truth better than most. \n\n\n\nThe crowd roared as the two men exited the carriage flanked by columns of armed escorts. The wrought iron fencing surrounding the courtyard undulated against the collective weight of the mass of people. Rigid fists pumped between the bars and insults flooded the space around the men as the doughboys pressed back, subduing revelers with rifle butts and warnings. \n\nThe two looked at the great beasts among the screaming din of people and a wave of uncertainty washed over them. They wondered if the dragons understood what they were trying to accomplish would they burn through this fence and end it? They also wondered if the people knew the truth about the beasts, would they so fervently defend them? \n\n\"You're invading their habitat!\" One of the protesters screamed. \n\n\"We all know what you're doing!\" Another yelled and hurled a canister of red paint splattering several of the guards and peppering the two men, \"you'll hunt them. Hunt them to extinction!\"\n\n\"Get back,\" a doughboy smacked the protesters hand with the end of his rifle. The man yelped, recoiling broken fingers, \"they have the right to be here just like you.\" \n\n\"Dragon's rights!\" another threw up a fist and echoing started throughout the crowd. \n\n\"Stupid scalers,\" another doughboy prodded at the front line with his bayonet. \n\nThe two men approached the courthouse steps. Wiping the paint from their clothes they glanced back at the crowd. \n\n\"Did you ever think it'd come to this,\" the first man said.\n\n\"No,\" the other sighed and dabbed up a red spot on his lapel, \"and this is just the beginning. Wait until they've actually heard that we've done it.\" \n\n\"We'll have to keep the site secret,\" the first said, brushing a fallen piece of hair back under his cap. \n\n\"Even if the judge doesn't agree,\" the second said, \"Kitty Hawk won't be the last time.\" \n\n\"Excuse me,\" a voice came from behind them. An aid had cracked the door, \"Mr. Orville and Wilbur Wright. The judge will see you now.\" \n\n*\n\nEnjoy the story? Subscribe to r/MrGoodread", "The night was quiet. The only noise I could hear was the click clack of the horses' hoofs and the creaking of the wagon wheels as we traveled down the road. I looked up at the sky and watched the stars sparkle. I laid in the wagon, fully trusting the driver to take me to my destination. I hadn't seen the stars like this in such a long time. \n\nI had been working long nights back in the city. At the request of one of my higher-ups, it was suggested I take a vacation. They were concerned about burnout, and losing a valuable employee. \n\nI pulled out my cell phone out of habit to see if I had any emails from work. Before I left the city, I was expecting an email about a large merger I was working on. Even though my boss said he would take care of it, I thought just checking in wouldn't hurt anything. I paused, and quietly slipped the phone back into my pocket. \"Maybe I have been too focused on work lately.\"\n\nWe pulled into a sleepy little village in the countryside. It looked like something out of a fantasy picture book I would have read as a child. I took the small bag of belongings, gave some money to the driver. \n\nThe driver tipped his hat to me. \"Listen, this village is known to be a place of rest for weary souls. You look like you could use it. That building over there is the inn, the bottom floor is also a pub.\" The building he was pointing to had a small sign out front. From what I could make out, there was a rooster engraved into the sign, along with the words 'Chick-Inn for Rest and Relaxation.' Where the hell was I?\n\nThe driver gave a small wave and started to ride back into the countryside. I watched the light of the driver's lantern get smaller and smaller and decided to head on into the inn.\n\nThere was only one other customer inside the pub, and he was nursing a drink over in the corner. The place itself was lit by candles, which gave the pub a somewhat menacing ambiance. I ordered a drink, and sat a table, trying to figure out what it really meant to take a vacation. \n\nI began to wonder about work again, and without thinking unlocked the screen of my phone. As the light of the phone lit my face, I heard an inhuman screech from outside.\n\n\"Are you trying to kill us?!\" The man who was nursing his drink in the corner leaped to my side. \"Turn that damn thing off!\"\n\n\"What are you talking about? And what was that noise just now?\"\n\n\"Turn it off! Just turn it off now!\"\n\nMy fingers fumbled with the power button, but I was able to manage to power the phone off. \"Would you mind explaining why you went berserk?\"\n\nThe man stood in silence for a bit, and then looked over at me. \"I think we got that damn thing turned off in time. Listen, lad, while you are here, you don't turn that thing back on, understood?\"\n\nI looked at him with a blank expression. \"No... No, I don't understand.\"\n\nHe took a seat, his eyes were reflecting the light of the candle at my table. He had a long gray beard. His face had the appearance of worn leather. This was a man who had seen some things in his lifetime. \"Listen, lad, you have heard of the lost city of Atlantis, right?\"\n\n\"The legend? Sure I have. What does that have to do with anything, though?\"\n\n\"Let me ask you this lad. What do you think happened to that city?\"\n\n\"Well...The old texts and legends say it sank into the sea.\"\n\n\"Aye, lad. Some legends say it is because the gods didn't want the civilization to become any more enlightened than what they were, but I will tell you the truth of the matter. Dragons...\"\n\n\"Excuse me, old timer? Did you just say dragons?\"\n\nHe looked at me with a cold gaze. The reflection of the candles made his eyes seem like they were on fire. \"That's right, dragons. They are the masters of this world. They saw humans were rising into power. The spearhead of that power was Atlantis. They saw the technology of that lost city as a threat, and sank it into the ocean in the span of 24 hours.\"\n\nI looked at him blankly. \"So where are they now? Aren't we further along now than what Atlantis was?\"\n\nHe broke his eye contact with me to look at the flame of the candle. \"No... we are close, but Atlantis was the pinnacle of humankind. It's destruction set us back by a couple of millennia... The dragons, they don't attack unless they feel threatend, but they are getting restless again. I believe they will be attacking soon. The bloodiest war is approaching, and it won't be human vs human.\"\n\n\"... who are you old timer?\"\n\nHe brought his gaze back up to me. His eyes were different, though. It almost appeared like they were no longer reflecting the candle light, but generating light of their own. \"I'm the messenger. The harbinger of destruction. Now that you have received my warning... what will you do with it... human?\"", "There was nothing, and then there was fire. That's what I remember. At least, that's what I say* I remember. \n\nWe've been running out of gold for a while. Valued since ancient times, we started using gold as a consumable resource in the 20th century in our electronics and our machines, and we've exponentially accelerated our usage since. We're running out, and that has dire implications for Earth, not to mention those poor bastards on the colonies. We're going to need more gold sooner rather than later, or they'll be stuck without supply missions for a very, very long time. \n\nWhen efforts to mine the asteroids for any residual gold failed, we turned our eyes inward. \"Deeper,\" they said. \"We must go deeper.\" So the International Mining Consortium was founded. Money and manpower was poured into it. Research initiatives pressed ahead. It get hot down there, and trying to have people and robots mining when the temperatures soar past 400 degrees Celsius? That's a pretty hefty problem to solve. \n\nTen years ago, the North American mine went 22 kilometers down. We were still within the earth's crust, but the gold wasn't there in quantities to justify the expense. \"Go deeper still,\" they commanded. And so we did. Five years after that, temperatures were well north of 750 degrees. \n\nLast year, we were less than a kilometer from the bottom of the crust, and our sensors indicated something - gold, maybe? - at the transition. We kept digging. The suits we wore were impossibly bulky, designed to protect us from temperatures approaching 1000 degrees Celsius. Most of our work was done by specialized robots, controlled from our mobile unit, which we kept at a relatively manageable 45 degrees. \n\nSix weeks ago - or was it seven? - the robots broke through to a chasm. They sent back images and data that sent cheers through the entire consortium. Gold. A lake of it. More than we could have imagined. But then the signals stopped suddenly. We had no idea why. \n\nSo, of course, we sent more robots, all of which promptly disappeared, and suddenly the mine was blocked. Eventually, we decided to move our mobile unit closer; maybe a signal was getting cut off. We needed more information. \n\nAs we got closer to the closure, the ability of the unit to keep us cool hit its limit. The temperatures were north of 55 degrees and still climbing, but we were ordered to get answers. We all put on our suits just to have air to breathe. We were finally close enough to see the closure. It didn't make sense. It didn't look like anything we'd seen. \n\nThen the floor caved in, and we plummeted into the darkness. We fell forever, and when we crashed, well... I don't know. But when I woke up in the darkness, the suit said I was the only one left alive. I struggled out of the wreckage, the lights on my suit flickering. \n\nAnd then I was out. I saw the golden lake, flames erupting from it as waves of molten metal lapped at my feet. I saw a tidy pile of robots, broken, smashes, and scorched. Then everything was fire. \n\nThat's the story I told. I don't know how I was saved. I don't know how long I was out - a day? a week? - but I woke up in a hospital, surrounded by a thousand suspicious questions. I answered the best I could. \n\nBut I couldn't figure out how to tell them that I also saw, in front of me, an eye - and that a voice, impossibly loud, seemingly in my own skull, said \"it is mine\"." ]	5
If you want, the process can be repeated a limited number of times.	[WP]People are able to forget a memory in exchange for gaining a memory that another random person chose to forget. The more important the memory you lose, the more important the memory you gain. You decide to forget everything.	[ "\"What do you remember John?\"\n\n\"I remember reading a book about paperclips.\"\n\n\"Anything else?\"\n\n\"I dont recall.\"\n\n\"Nurse, looks like we have to reverse the process, his life is to unimportant to be of much use, prepare the undo ray-inator\"\n\n\"Roger that doctor\"\n\n\"Wait what did you say about my life memory beiing unimpor-\"ZAPPPP" ]	1
	[WP] Retell a modern event as a fable, fairy tale, or children's story.	[ "Choice of the People\n***\n\nOnce upon a time ... well that's not exactly historically accurate as I am sure this has likely happened more than once, but for the sake of story, let's call it Once upon a time, k?\n\nWhere was I? Oh right. \n\nOnce upon a time there was a great nation. The nation was beloved and hated, depending on who you ask. The great nations to the south and east were ready to usurp the nation's wealth and steal their precious gold, or so some would say. But this great nation was also a benefactor of many other small nations and they loved the great Northern nation, or so some would say. \n\nThe people of the great nation were both happy and sad, again, depending on who you ask. There were rich and powerful families who accumulated their wealth through hard work and determination, or so some would say. Then there were poor families who struggled to make ends meet, they worked hard too, but they were not given the same opportunities as others, or so some would say.\n\nUpon the great nation's two-hundred-fortieth year it came time for the people to elect a new leader. One potential leader was a businessman. His skin was orange like the sun in the sky and he wore his hair in such fashions that everyone had to speak of the man. However, he was foul-mouthed and he spoke without thinking. A second potential leader was a woman, who had worked in the leadership of the nation for a long time. She married a man that was once the leader of the great nation, but he was no longer. However, she lied to the people and covered up all records of her lies.\n\nThe two potential leaders argued about how things should be done. The businessman believed that all businesses should be made bigger and greater. He would talk about how great the nation used to be, but it was no more. However, his foul mouth got him into trouble and many were angered with him. The woman spoke out of both sides of her mouth. She would speak about how she helped to shape the nation by making good decisions and how she supported all the people, but many remembered that she had not done those things. The two leaders fought and raged against each other, while other potential leaders were forgotten. This made the people very sad, because they were given a choice of only two potential leaders, but they wanted more, but the people listened to the leaders and the leaders took away their options. Some decided to vote for the businessman, even though he was angry and filled with hate. Others chose to vote for the woman, even though she lied to them. \n\nThis battle continued on and on, but neither leader could win all of the people's trust. Some changed their minds and supported the woman, but the others changed their minds and supported the businessman. Harsh words were exchanged by both sides. The people of the great nation were caught up in their squabbles and so they did not see that both of the potential leaders wanted the same thing. Both leaders sought to control the people and their way of life. When it came time for the vote, both sides were torn and no one could win. \n\nThe people wept, because they could only accept the leaders offered to them, or some would say. The people did not know they had another choice, a third or a fourth, or maybe a fifth choice, because no one talked about their other options, the people were stuck with the two leaders who pretended to hate one another, so that at least one of them might control all the people.\n\nIt is a terrible thing when the people succumb to the same misguided ideals of all or nothing, one versus the other. The people could not fix their great nation because they could not think for themselves and let the leaders tell them what they must do. So it was, that the people elected a leader that no one wanted. " ]	1
http://whothefuckismydndcharacter.com	[WP] Write about a randomly generated protagonist!	[ "SENSITIVE ELF BARD FROM A DISGRACED FAMILY OF KNIGHTS WHO HAS A POEM FOR ALL OCCASIONS\n\n Oh hear the tale of Gwaengwen,\n The maiden who sings for those in the den.\n\n Three winters ago she came to this land,\n Banished from home by king's high command.\n\n Her kin were the noble, fearless knights,\n Who fought full of glory in countless fights.\n\n But one day a traitor has forged a plot,\n To take down the king without being caught.\n\n Throughout the kingdom, the rumors have spread,\n That glorious knights were the traitors instead.\n\n The king was deceived, and plotter was there,\n To watch her parents being hanged at the square.\n\n Gwen has ran away, for she knew they would come,\n she had to escape from the traitorous scum.\n\n She has hidden in forests, and slept in the hollows,\n And now you can tell where story follows.\n\n Gwen went through the mountains, and crawled through the caves.\n To find a good place for her enemies graves.\n\n Traitors have caught her on the edge of a chasm,\n They couldn't imagine she was using her chance.\n\n She let them come closer, and they recklessly did,\n They thought she was weak, but it was her bid.\n\n Assassins took a few steps, and then it began,\n Gwen started shouting as loud as she can.\n\n And mountain has shaken, the weak rocks have moved.\n Upon their heads the justice has proved.\n\n Gwen has stood up, intact and unbroken,\n Inside of her heart the hope has awoken.\n\n And thus here she is, looking for help,\n To get back in her kingdom and make new king yelp.", "DISCERNING DRAGONBORN RANGER \nFROM THE GUARD'S ACADEMY WHO \nIS DOWNRIGHT RACIST TOWARDS \nLIVING SKELETONS\n\nHere goes nothing!...\n\nFreyor Tabronil sat atop his restless steed, running a gloved hand over her rich, dark brown coat. \"Easy now, we won't have to wait much longer.\" His voice was quiet, eyes still locked on the horizon with the others. It was here they would make their last stand against Queen Valecia and her army. \n\nTensions between the borders of Trell and Igorth had been growing for years, but a land dispute between farmers had been the spark needed for the situation to escalate into open war. Other nations joined the Trellians after Igorth's armies began to grow, but it wasn't going to be enough.\n\nHe usually kept to the mountains and forests, passing between the two nations for work hunting down dangerous beasts. When Igorth's King Eywill asked for his bow in aid, Freyor answered the call and took his rightful place by Eywill's side. \n\nThey had a secret weapon, and Freyor smiled as the first of Valecia's men began to march into view under the early morning's light. It didn't matter the number of necromancers she had, he was going to personally tear each of them apart if they were foolish enough to try and attack him.\n\nIt was an endless sea of helmets and shields, and Igorth looked outnumbered ten to one. It had been Freyor's idea to begin losing battles, intentionally failing until Valecia followed their retreat into this corner. The sacrifice of men was worth it to place the final battle here.\n\nWaiting was the hardest part, and by the time the last of their enemy was over the final hill the sun was high in the sky.\n\n\"Now.\" King Eywill said, giving the command.\n\nFreyor began to shout the words with the others once born of the dragon, and the earth trembled. In the distance he could see the enemies beginning to scatter, shouting as the ground shattered beneath them and the skeletal dragons began to claw their way out from their ancient graves. They are so beautiful, Freyor thought, marvelling at the magnificent creatures as the distant shouts turned to screams.\n\nDragons and those of dragon blood had died out long ago, their many graves forgotten. The living had always been too brash, trying to use the brute force of the living to conquer a land that needed only their dead to man to reinforce a near immortal army.\n\nFreyor spat on the ground as he watched the slaughter, his smile now a malicious snarl. The living were so stupid." ]	2
	[WP] When hitler died he wound up in heaven, for some reason.	[ "It was the fifth guy today, who had levied some complaint. At least this one had come to the central office. Two of them had attempted to fight the man, and the other two tried to run him over, in their free heaven Ferrari. They'd gotten their licence revoked.\n\n\"I'm just saying, Hitler should not be in heaven!\" he screamed. I sighed, and swivelled the computer monitor around to him.\n\n\"Repeat after me,\" I warned, then gestured to the picture on the left. \"Adolf Hitler.\" I raised an eyebrow. He nodded.\n\nI gestured to the other picture. \"Charlie Chaplin.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Surrounded by chaotic mayhem, you close your eyes, and try to sleep...	[ "I should have never agreed to this. They tried telling me it would be difficult, but I was overconfident. I knew it would be an easy task, nothing I can't handle. Man, was I wrong.\n\nMy home that I grew up in, the home that I love, is torn to shred. Completely destroyed. I tried to stop it, to get some control over the beasts, but there was no way. They were to cunning, their stealth and diversion tactics too much for me to handle. I was such a fool.\n\nI see them there on the bed, those beast, curled up in slumber. I'm afraid to move, to breath, lest they awaken and start their rampage anew. But I am just tired. So tired.\n\nI gently lie on the bed next to the three, facedown. One snuggles up to me instinctively, and for a moment, I almost feel a rush of tenderness for the thing. Almost. I close my eyes, and I have one last thought before oblivion takes me.\n\nFuck babysitting. \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] There is a splotch of blood on his handkerchief.	[ "There we were: Crush chewing on his pipe and Grimes rubbing his charcoal-covered hands all over the deck. And myself, of course. Sitting still. Observing. Relaxing. Letting the gentle strums and chatter and clanking of tankards wash over me. When the tavern's door creaked open and a stranger walked in. Young man. Lithe. Sword at his hip. Purple cape swirling behind him. Plumed hat plopped on top of wild black hair. Burrows furrowed in anger. He was looking for someone.\n\nJudging by the way his eyes lit up, us. He immediately began striding over.\n\n\"Trouble?\" Grimes asked thoughtfully.\n\n\"I love trouble,\" Crush rumbled. He had been half-laying in the shadows. His hulking frame strapped with knives and bows and contraptions suddenly loomed over the table. The young man hesitated - but only for a step. His hands balled into fists.\n\n\"Hmm,\" Grimes said. \"Normally that scares them off.\" Unfortunately, the rapidly approaching kid didn't seem normal. In fact, downright suicidal. Based on his suddenly jabbing in my face and his snarled, \"You miserable, good-for-nothing, lying, despicable-\"\n\nI stared into the furious blue storms of eyes the young man had - and raised an eyebrow. Grimes gently pushed the young man's hand down. \"Nobody talks to boss like that.\"\n\nThe boy smiled darkly. \"You call her boss? Let me make sure I have it right. Jessie \"Boss\" Makara, leader of the Protectorate, bodyguard extraordinare? Yeah? More like a barely-attractive blond ringmaster with a bald ogre and an over-prepared chimney-man as her acts. Incredible. Absolutely bloody incredible.\"\n\nHe put a hand on his hip, grinning madly now. I blinked slowly. Then blinked again. Then raised both eyebrows.\n\n\"Can we kill him now?\" Crush asked. \n\n\"You already have!\" he yelled, dancing back and flinging his hat to the ground in despair. Melodramatic. \"When you let the love of my life die, there was no hope left for me!\" Very melodramatic.\n\n\"The last client of ours that we \"let die\" was five years ago.\" Grimes said. \"And I would be very much surprised if you-\"\n\n\"No, you idiot!\" the young man exclaimed. Grimes closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose, no doubt counting reasons why the kid could already be dead. \"I mean this!\" He reached into his coat and threw a white lacy handkerchief onto the table. With a splotch of blood on it. The three of us instinctively leaned forward.\n\n\"A handkerchief,\" Grimes pointed out. Crush nodded, then elaborated, \"With blood on it.\"\n\nThe young man's furious face was suddenly in ours as he snapped, \"Lucia Agna! Does the name mean anything to you idiots?! Or has the addition of ale made your stupidity so immense that-\"\n\nI grabbed him by the throat. He struggled fruitlessly. \"We were hired to protect Lucia Agna earlier this morning by a man who introduced himself as Florence,\" I coldly rattled off. \"Skinny, balding, glasses, artist's robe, carrying a purple silk bag filled with gold. He was nervous, twitchy. He said she needed protection. She was returning to town from a hunting trip. She was to meet us here at exactly six in the evening.\"\n\n\"Six?\" the young man gasped, sagging in my grip. \"But that's...\"\n\n\"Four minutes from now. Yes. Perhaps you should ask this Florence why he made those specific arrangements, as you obviously didn't know about them. Or perhaps you should have involved yourself just a bit more in the 'love of your life's' affairs. How much did you know?\"\n\nI let him go. He reeled back, dismayed. His gaze was roving, unfocused, clearly somewhere else entirely. \"That... that doesn't make any sense. I was the one on the hunting trip! She was in the city the whole time... Florence... Why would he? ...\" His gaze snapped back up, suspicious. \"Are you lying to me?!\" He managed to hold our unblinking stares for a few seconds, then sagged again. \"No, I can tell you're not. But... why?\"\n\n\"I suspect Florence was not himself - or not Florence at all,\" I said. \n\n\"But why would he approach us in the first place?\"\n\n\"Because someone wants to have a little fun.\" I felt anger beginning to burn inside of me. \"Someone wants to mock us. To play a little game. And they're about to play their first move.\"\n\n\"What... what do you mean?\" the young man asked.\n\n\"They wanted us to be here at six!\" Grimes said, realization dawning on his face. \"If not to see Lucia, then...\" \n\nThe tavern door creaked open. At once, everyone in the room froze and fell silent. The man that stepped through thrummed with power, with the arrogance of a hunter who had cornered his defenseless prey, with the condescension of a lord stepping through filth-covered peasants. He was dressed in a rich red silk suit. He moved slowly, calmly, with a relaxed smile on his face. He was unarmed. His face was covered with a fine gray stubble. The anger inside of me was a roaring fire.\n\nI stood up with a start, smashing the table away. It careened into the right wall of the tavern, splintering into pieces. No one in the room twitched. A bitter cold gripped the suddenly dead room. Everyone's eyes were blank. Our new guest chortled. \"You must be Jessie,\" he jovially said. \"I've heard a lot about you.\"\n\n\"What have you heard?\" I snarled, walking forward.\n\n\"I heard you were a tough girl. One curiously resistant to magic. One interested in helping people, but never drawing too much attention to herself. One who never slept or ate or drank. One with impossible strength.\" As he spoke, his form lengthened and grew. His suit began ripping, black fur rippling underneath. His fingers stretched into glinting claws. Shadows danced across the wall behind him as the candles and fireplace in the room flicked and sputtered. He grinned, revealing rows and rows of razor sharp teeth. \"I haven't eaten elf in a long time,\" he rasped, taking two long strides forward.\n\nI laughed, loudly and brashly. He stopped, tilting his head. \"You think I'm an elf?!\" \n\nFor a moment, he thought about it. Then his grin stretched wider. \"Your tricks won't work me. You know you're dead. You're desperate.\"\n\nHe raced toward me, a blur of grey and black, shredding through his human form entirely, embracing his raw power and strength and letting his hunger take the reins and now he smell me, smell my blood, smell clearer than ever-\n\nThe werewolf danced back. He towered almost to the ceiling, but in his eyes there was only fear.\n\n\"You think I'm an elf?\" I softly asked.\n\nHe growled then, a last, desperate growl, of a predator who knew he was cornered. \"Make... it... quick...\" His wolf form struggled with the words. \n\n\"Of course,\" I said. \"If you tell me who your master is.\"\n\nHe hesitated. \"No.... I... I cannot...\"\n\nI opened my mouth. The werewolf's eyes widened. He saw the blue fire burning deep in my throat. He hesitated, as if thinking about bolting, or going for my throat again, or even talking, but then his eyes hardened. \"No. Not even... dragonfire. I will not... betray... I do not fear-\"\n\n\"Silence, pup,\" I said, my voice rich and deep and a hundred times louder. \"You should grovel in my very presence.\"\n\nEven as a pitiful whine snaked out of his mouth he managed to sneer. \"You... you consort with humans... A being of your-\"\n\n\"Burn.\" I felt my jaw lengthening and scales rippling across my flesh and that wonderful heat rising up my throat-\n\n***\n\n\"What... what just happened?\" Grimes asked. He looked around wildly. The tavern was bustling as normal. Our young friend leaned against the unharmed table, his eyes glazed and unfocused. Crush blinked and rubbed his eyes.\n\n\"Boss?\" Grimes asked. \"What... You... You look...\"\n\n\"Sick? What gave it away?\"\n\n\"Well... uh... the huge gray bags under your eyes and how red your face is and the way you're slumped against the wall and-\"\n\nI leaned forward. My body burned as if I had swallowed the sun. Every inch of skin pulsed with heat. Moving an inch sent waves of nausea crashing into me. Sweat trickled down my face. \"The details are unimportant. Someone is about to learn what happens when they challenge the Protectorate. Boy! Take us to where Florence lives.\"", "(HEAVILY NSFW)\n\n\nThere is a splotch of blood on his handkerchief. His eyes are wide and emotionless. Around him there is no sound. But within him a scream. One only he can hear. One that refuses to be released.\n\nBefore him lies Jameson Peters. Charles had spent years hating him. Years. His thick biceps, now seemed so weak and useless. Beneath his open and staring eyes rests his once regal nose. Now, just grotesque in its length. His chest barely rose and fell with the heavy breaths he clung to life with.\n\nCharles knew that he would never get what he wanted. Yet, somehow, he always hoped. Always. Even when Drake would shun him in school. Create new excuses to evade him. Even declined to know his name. Charles still hoped.\n\nBut when Charles got called over that night, it wasn't for any of the usual reasons. As he entered the bedroom window and smiled, Drake looked away. As he ran a hand through his hair he spoke softly, regrettfully.\n\n\"My dad set up cameras.\"\n\nOnly then did Charles notice the large man seated on the bed just behind him. Before either of the boys could react Jameson had his hands on Charles hood. He gagged as he was torn out of the room and into the hallway. His vision was a flurry of the dark inside of his own jacket and the blinding white of the ceiling lights. His feet kicked and struggled, but failed to find purchase.\n\nHe heard no sound of Drake. No evidence that Drake was near him at all.\n\nWhen the dragging stopped he wrestled himself to his feet. He and Jameson were alone in the main bedroom.\n\n\"My son and I had a talk. I told him there was no scenario where I'd let my son keep sticking it to some faggot.\"\n\nCharles stood silently, heaving. His heart pounded in his chest and his fist clenched at the sound of the final word. He was terrified. But furthermore, enraged.\n\n\"The silly boy pleaded with me. You don't know. You don't understand. You can't hurt him.\"\n\nJameson smiled wide. As he reached towards his belt.\n\n\"I decided he was right. I don't understand. So I told him you and I would talk.\"\n\nCharles took a step back as the lumbering man undid his belt. The smell of alchohol was suddenly apparent. Reeking honestly. Bottles lay,strewn throughout the room, and Charles noticed that Jameson was swaying.\n\n\"But I think actions speak much louder than words. So, I'm gonna try you out myself.\"\n\nThe man lunged towards Charles, pinning him to the wall. The large rough right hand of the man took no time to find its way behind Charles' hips. It squeezed clutzily and without any pleasure. Charles could feel the stiffness of the mans lap as it pressed into him. Vomit filed his throat as the emotions pounded throughout him, and the smell of liqour forced its way even further into his nose.\n\nCharles reached down, grabbing the man by the balls and yanked upwards, twisting. Jameson yelped and leapt backwards, freeing Charles. \n\n\"What a rough lover!\" He said as he swung his hand across Charles' face. Charles stumbled to the left, crashing against the bed. Jameson pounced on him, fumbling as best he could with the young boys pants. Charles reached out for the desk and found a cord. He yanked on it, hard. Anything at all to save him.\n\nThe lamp crashed violently beside them and in his drunken and dreanged lust Jameson found its remains with his bare toes. He screamed in pain. Only now could Charles hear Drake shouting outside the door. Charles felt a fire within him that had never once been there. The world became so sharp. So bright. He gripped the cord tightly and caught it around the throat of the tall fool.\n\nHe yanked backwards. Pulling the man to his back, onto the shratnel of the lamp. He clumsily stepped in front of the man and pressed his palm against Jamesons adam apple. With no thought at all he forced his fist against the jaw and skull of the intoxicated father. He'd never felt so angry. So afraid. So powerful. This wasn't for Drake. This was for survival. And pride.\n\nHe realized he could finally take this wretched man's life. The way he'd imagined so many times before. But something held him back. Some strange invisible force. Suddenly, he became aware of Drake's arms on his shoulders, pulling him away from Jameson. He relaxed and stepped away. He took off his jacket. And looked around him.\n\nThere is a splotch of blood on his handkerchief. The room is silent. His chest wants him to scream. But he doesn't. Instead he stands gently. And looks at the barely conscious form in front of him.\n\n\"Hurt me, him, or anybody else. And I kill you. Do not ever, come near us again.\"\n\nHe looked at Drake. Hoping for approval. Lest his threat be left so pointlessly. Drake nodded slowly and they left for Charles' home. A place where no drunk idiots could reach them. ", "There is a splotch of blood on his handkerchief. It's small, barely the size of the seed from an apple. It's much too small for a man like him to notice, especially when it's on the inside of the fold, but it's there nonetheless. A small notice of what was to come.\n\nHis children pester him and run around his ankles. His wife, abdomen full and round with child, kisses him on the cheek as he leaves their small house. He hitches up his horses and goes off to fulfill his financial duties as master of the house.\n\nThere is a splotch of blood on his handkerchief. It's smaller than a cherry stone. He is driving and unable to devote any attention to the handkerchief, focusing instead on the well-being of the horses. But it's there, signalling what's to come.\n\nHe walks into his business. He greets the employees and begins to work in his ledgers and records, all the while waiting for deliveries of new books to bind and meetings with the producers of manuscripts. His leaden pencil etches note after note.\n\nThere is a splotch of blood on his handkerchief. It's larger than the head of a doornail. He's busy, but despite that, he sees the flash of red as he folds it up and puts it away. He tells himself that his eyes are just tired from hours looking at records. He ignores the proof of his transience.\n\nHe meets with a man, and they discuss a contract. The customer worries about distribution, cover designs and possible errors, scared of no one understanding his message. The man worries about an easy contract, so he won't have to stay late working, and a reasonable sum of money to bring home to his family.\n\nThere is a splotch of blood on his handkerchief. It's larger than a cluster of hemlock flowers. He can't help but notice the blood that falls on his handkerchief after his shaking bout of coughing. It serves as a clear message to him about what to do next.\n\nHe excuses himself from the meeting, ignoring the dry pain in his lungs. He pulls a bottle of whiskey out of the jar of his drawer and swallows a mouthful. He hitches up his horses and heads for the house full of soon-to-be orphans, driving with abandon and knowing that it makes no real difference if he dies at home or dies getting himself back.\n\nHis handkerchief is soaked with blood. It's as damp as the coats of his horses, foaming with sweat. He cannot see to drive as his entire body heaves with coughing. It stains the handkerchief like sand dropping into the bottom of an hourglass.\n\nHe staggers through the door and makes for the bed. His wife rushes over, but it is just barely too late. His body collapses into the bed as his battered lungs draw in their final breath.\n\nThere is a splotch of blood on his pillow, spilled from his limp lips. It's the size of a bullet. His wife ignores it as she stares in disbelief. She did not need evidence of his mortality." ]	3
	[WP] Life as a Lich during the zombie apocalypse isn't easy. Sure, the hordes of mindless undead generally leave you alone but they aren't great company and getting humans to take you seriously is a bit of a challenge.	[ "I sat at the top of the highest building I could find and watched the dead city with my legs dangling off the side. My eyes wouldn't get tired, and I wasn't cold. I couldn't feel such things anymore for a long time.\n\n\nI moved my hand behind the rams horns nailed to my forehead and pulled my hair back. This particular habit didn't die even from my first life. Just when I had gotten used to the Rams Horns and found an adequate way of hiding the signs of the ritual that brought me back. The Long stitch mark under my ribs was no big deal, just a matter of wearing a shirt. But then there had been the Horns. That had taken some doing.\n\n\nNot that It mattered now. The Living had mostly moved out into the country and the dead were.... well, the dead.\n\n\nOne of my favorites bumped up against me. \"Yes Working Joe?\"\n\n\n\"Food\" Working Joe uttered, so named after his construction uniform that he couldn't take off.\n\n\nContrary to the livings deduction the dead did actually say human words, just not in any actual manner that could be understood. Things like \"Food\" \"Come\" or \"Save me\", but in low moans that only I could really understand.\n\n\n\"Try leaving the city maybe?\"\n\n\n\"Right Idea.\" Working Joe said. He was one of the smarter ones.\n\n\nHe tried to go down the stairs before getting stuck at the door that some of the living had made in an attempt to survive, but that had been years ago now. \n\n\nI stood up, grabbed the black robe I had taken from a costume shop and put it on above my sweat pants and T-shirt. I used my magic to teleport and traveled to my favorite settlement.\n\n\nThey had it all. Walls. Farms on the inside. Guards. Enough People to keep themselves safe. So I haunted the outside of the walls every now and then. Calling out in words that they wouldn't understand but wasn't like what the dead said. They shot me, occasionally hitting me in the head but this did nothing. Bullets didn't have crosses carved into the slug see?\n\n\nIt was around midnight and I held my arms aloft in a limp manner. I moved my head around like I had no control over it and made blue fire erupt behind me. \"I ammmmmm deeeeaatttthhhhhhhhh\"\n\n\n\n\"Who the hell are you?\" One of the women guarding the wall screamed at me.\n\n\nI straightened up and responded. \"Ummm. Death. Didn't you hear me?\"\n\n\n\"Cut the bullshit. You obviously aren't one of the dead, Who or what are you?\"\n\n\nI honestly hadn't considered this question. \"Ummm, I'm a Lich.\"\n\n\n\n\"A what?\"\n\n\n\"A Lich. You know, a mortal sorcerer returned to life by ill magic still bearing the wounds of his death in his second life?\"\n\n\n\"I never played World of Warcraft. Now do you want in or what?\"\n\n\nI honestly hadn't expected this answer. \"Liches are real things you know.\"\n\n\n\n\"I don't believe in magic.\"\n\n\n\"Did you believe in Zombies before all this?\"\n\n\n\"What the hell is a Zombie? Do you mean the Dead?\"\n\n\nIf I still actually breathed I would have sighed. I wasn't sure if she was messing with me or genuinely ignorant. \"Never mind. Yes Let me in.\"", "I batted away a rotten hand. Disgusting is one word to describe them; inconvenient is the one that forces its way to the forefront of my thoughts.\n\n\"Scram, I'm working,\" I said to a member of the shambling horde. \n\nIt furrowed its pocked brow, seemed to contemplate attacking, but apparently thought better of it and moved on with the rest of its ilk. Zombies made a terrible backdrop for what I was about to do.\n\nOnce they'd moved on, I knocked on the door of the school I know to contain a living collection of families. The large double doors generated loud thuds as I pounded on it. One door opened slightly, panicked eyes peering out from the darkness within.\n\nI braced myself for the terror to come, book in hand, and said, \"Good evening sir. My name is Witness Bartholomew, and I was hoping I could have a few minutes to talk about the unswerving love God has for your eternal soul. May I ask who...\"\n\nThe door slammed on my face as I finished with,\"...is in charge of this commune?\"\n\nI sighed, and prised the remnants of a detached hand from a zombie off my bicycle before releasing the kickstand. I'd be back. They didn't push a gun in to my mouth - all in all, a hopeful start.\n\nMy next stop was a settlement on top of a post office. They were a fresh start, so I might be able to at least get off a simple 'Hello' before bullets started raining down. They didn't really hurt - the helmet I swiped off a national guardsmen's walking corpse saw to that. But it took a long time to tease buckshot out of my flesh, and usually gaping bullet holes ruin the presentation. \n\nI came across a horde shambling onward in aimless persistence. Of what, I wasn't certain. They lined the road from sidewalk to sidewalk leaving me no room to pass through. I rode up behind them, catching the attention of a few, and began ferociously hitting the bell on the bicycle. It made some of them pause, allowing me passage through narrow channels their pauses created. One lurched out at me, but stopped short when I made a guttural, \"Unnngh,\" of disapproval. It was understandably confused. It's not common for anything as ambulatory as me to get through to them, or smell like them, or look like them. But I am certainly close enough to pass unmolested. Usually. In an academic sense, I am one of them. Somehow I was spared the worst aspects of their physiology, and retain my sensibilities with a few added bonuses: gunshots are laughably ineffective save a lucky shot to the head; I don't eat; I don't sleep and I don't need to breathe. But, let's be honest - regardless of my impressive mental faculties, recountings of the Hegelian Dialectic, or entreaties to 'Love Thy Neighbor' and 'Cast Not the First Stone', no one's instinctual first reaction to a member of the undead is 'Brotherly Love'. That goes doubly for a missionary preaching love for the Lord that, to many, has abandoned them. The 'end times' some of have called it. Sure, its a reasonably good facsimile of it - but I'm more optimistic. I like to think that 'this too, shall pass'.\n\nWith this in mind, I approached the post-office with unwavering caution, and faith in a - usually - loving God whose machinations ensured that I would not, upon seeing the inhabitants, try to devour them. I held out hope they'd understand, and only fire warning shots. I stashed my bicycle in a dumpster nearby, and knocked on the door to the visitor's entrance. No answer.\n\nI peered up at the roof, and saw no signs of life. The windows were barred on all sides. All the doors in front were chained shut. I saw a fenced in area with several mail delivery vehicles parked in a circle, and decided that was my best bet. I immediately saw my chance - a delivery door with a dim light in its window. I pulled over the hood I'd sewn in to my cassock, held my hands up, and approached. I need not have bothered.\n\nOn closer inspection the door was open. I made a tour of the building, and found markings that told a grim story. A steady whump whump whump came from one of the bathrooms. The door was smeared with fresh blood. I cursed under my breath, apologized, cursed again, apologized again, and went up to see if there were survivors on the roof. A service ladder led up to a hatch that was slightly ajar, and I cautiously peered through before removing it. I was met with the newly turned undead inhabitants gawking at me, and shuffling forward to investigate the new curiosity. \n\nI overturned a bucket full of rain water, and sat down to meditate on my lot in life. They normally ignored me after some cursory inspection, but a few decided I needed further inquiry. One of them bit at my head. I gave it a contemptuous slap, and groaned at it without much thought. It tried again, so I slapped it with the thick leather-bound book I carried with me, and it got the hint. I watched with bored fascination as they walked with furtive lurches from one end of the roof to the other, then back again as birds chirped, cats meowed or pieces of building creaked.\n\nAnother day. No converts. And now I had to repair the cuts in my hood. God is mysterious, God is great - but sometimes I wish instead of prayers, I had someone to talk to.\n", "Kel sighed as he watched the mindless hordes mob and kill another person. It had been six months since a collegue of his had unleashed a plague which turned people into the living dead. It seemed like a good plan then. It's not hard to enslave them and make them do your bidding and you also can sit back and watch as the human society that many of his kind dreaded so much fall apart. \n\nBut now he was honestly bored. It's one thing to have a couple mindless thralls who help you with experiments and such but controlling hundreds, it left no time to figure out their skill set and best manage them. And besides with human society disintegrated, cults sprung up everywhere and Kel and the other more charismatic Liches had competition. \n\nKel spotted a human. She was a woman, light skinned, red hair covered by a large cowboy hat. She switched between a revolver and a make-shift sword to cut through the undead hordes. Kel decided that she would make a good cult leader to worship him and do his bidding. He took a small group of his thralls over as he headed over to her.\n\n\"Human! I am a lich of immense power! Bow to me and be rewarded! Refuse and become one of my many thralls! Either way you will serve me!\"\n\nThe woman looked at him \"Look buddy I gotta get this medicine to that settlement over yonder\" she pointed towards the nearby woods \"So I've got no time for you games\"\n\n\"You think that a great Lich, such as I, would play mere games?\" Kel's voice thundered \"My thralls shall consume you!\"\n\nA few of kel's zombies shambled over to the woman but she cut them down almost as fast as they came.\n\n\"Look I really need to go. I have to pee really badly and also want to get paid, so good bye\" the woman said as she cut through Kel's remaining thralls and headed towards the woods.\n\nKel sighed and started the long journey home to his lair. \"Zombies suck\"", "\"As I have taught you, to ward against this undying foe, we must remain forever vigilant. We must watch for the lies of the Lich. We must weed out his agents, lest he be reborn.\" From his marble raised dais, King Sigon gestured at the prisoner on the platform before him. \"Citizens of Ellanaris, behold. I bring before you one who, if given the chance, would gladly turn the undead upon us all.\" The crowd--a thousand men, women, and children that thronged the open square before the palace--boomed with cries of outrage and boos of condemnation.\n\nThe king unsheathed his sword from his scabbard and thrust it toward the noon sky. It glowed with a brilliant white light, illuminating the palace square below. \"With this blade, we shall exterminate evil wherever we find it. With this Light of Justice, we shall banish the Lich forever!\" The crowd burst into cheers.\n\nThe king turned to the prisoner. \"Do you have any last words, fallen one?\"\n\nThe haggard man, dressed in rags, turned to the assembled masses. \"Do you not see what this self-styled Chosen One is doing? Why should no man be allowed to say what he believes?\"\n\n\"Boo!\" \"Heretic!\" \"Hear not evil, turn not evil...\"\n\n\"Why should that deserve death? Your king would execute any who challenges his so-called Teachings. He does so, not because mere words can bring the Lich back. No. He does this, to silence you all and usurp power for himself!\"\n\n\"Lies!\" \"The Lich Reborn!\"\n\n\"I speak the truth, you fools--\"\n\nRocks started flying at him.\n\nStanding beside the king, Queen Elyria proclaimed, \"You have heard him damn himself with his own words! None may deny his apostasy now. What are you waiting for, my king? Surely our hero who slew the Lich will not allow his return?\"\n\nThe crowd started chanting, \"Die, apostate. Die, blasphemer. Die, die, die!”\n\nForced to kneel, the prisoner stared forward in defeat. The king stepped from the dais and approached, luminous sword unsheathed, and decapitated him to thunderous applause.\n\n\"All hail our savior!\" the queen called out.\n\nAs one the crowd knelt, facing the royal couple as they kowtowed and chanted. \"...All hail the Chosen One, who vanquished the undead legions by the holiness of his very presence. All hail the Chosen One, who felled the Lich, when all our knights had fallen. All hail the Chosen One, whose Teachings wards us from the lies of the Lich Reborn. All hail the Chosen One...\"\n\n \n\n \n\nWith a firm grip on his queen's hand, the king led her down the glittering halls of their palace to their bedchamber and closed the door behind them. He gestured for her to lay down on the massive gilded canopy-bed that dominated the room.\n\nShe looked at him, cheeks flushed. \"So early, my lord? It is yet noon.\" At a nod from him, she undressed, letting her embroidered milky white dress and silky undergarments fall to the floor until she wore only an amulet containing a shining mote of spirit-light--her father's soul. When he stretched an open hand to her, she unclasped the amulet too and surrendered it to him, which he put away. From the nightstand, he took out two sets of manacles. She lay spreadeagled on the bed, her breath shallowed in anticipation, and watched him with adoring eyes while he chained her wrists to the bedposts.\n\n\"You've been a bad girl. You summoned me away from my world, stripped me of family and friends, to make me fight your war for you as a cliche hero in a cliche world.\"\n\nShe asked sweetly, \"I have been bad, my lord, will you please forgive me?\"\n\n\"Forgive you? You treated me like dirt, put me in danger, sent me off to battle like you couldn't care less. I won your war, gave this world peace, and what do I get for all that?\" He leaned close to her. \"A princess, and the fairest maiden in all the land. You.\"\n\n\"My heart belongs to you, and I am yours to claim, hero.\"\n\nHe approached so close she could feel his breath on her face, and he looked into her eyes as he caressed her golden hair. \"But is that really the story?\" He smirked. \"Everywhere I went, the moment I showed up, undead on the verge of slaughtering the defenseless instead all went insane, turned on each other, and destroyed themselves.\" He cocked his head at her. \"You never found that strange?\"\n\n\"Of course you could turn the undead.\"\n\n\"'Of course', they thought, 'holiness does that to the undead.' Never mind that none of the priests of the old gods could do such a thing, nor the priests of the new. No. Only I could.\"\n\n\"Proof that holiest of holies is the Chosen One.\"\n\n\"No. I'm not holy. I have never been holy. Holiness never could stop the undead. Don't you see? The undead slaughtered themselves, because I told them to.\"\n\nElyria rolled her eyes. \"That's not how the story goes--\"\n\n\"And they obeyed, because I was their master.\" He stared down at her. \"I was the Lich all along.\"\n\n\"That's not a very convincing twist, love.\"\n\n\"Because you believed in my Teachings, you thought that worship alone would keep the undead away. But the Lich rose, not for lack of faith, but for lack of attention. Because if there's one thing I hate, it's not being listened to--\"\n\n\"Stop, just stop, you're ruining it.\"\n\n\"The living wouldn't listen to me, so I mastered the dead, called myself king--\"\n\n“I said stop.”\n\n\"You think the Lich captured you out of unrequited love? No. I did so, not because I had any love for you, but because I thought your father did. I guess not though, since he sent no one to rescue you, leaving all the work to your hero, a single man. Against a million undead!\"\n\nShe fell silent, couldn't believe what she was hearing.\n\n\"And so when I finally possessed this champion, I had to know why. And in him I found a kindred spirit, always treated with contempt and never acknowledged.\"\n\n\"Please stop, you're scaring me.\"\n\n\"So the Lich and I - the hero and me - we bound our souls in unholy matrimony.\"\n\n\"Blasphemy! Have you gone mad?\"\n\n\"After what he and I had been through? Yes, we'd gone very mad.\"\n\n\"Well congratulations, now I'm mad at you too. Get off.\"\n\n\"Make me.\"\n\n\"Now.\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nHer eyes widened at the refusal. She made to get up, but found her wrists bound to the bedposts. She twisted her hands and arms around, feeling the chains and trying to find a release, and her heartbeat quickened. She tried several quick pulls against the chains, then pulled with all her might; they didn't give. She stared up at him, realizing with horror her utter helplessness, and feeling utter regret for letting him bind her. \"No. This can't be happening... can't be happening...\" Tears welled in her eyes.\n\n\"This has always been happening. You just hadn't ever noticed. The young lad who'd run errands for every kid and his nanny must surely be pure of heart, you thought. The hero would surely defeat the evil overlord, you thought. And so you didn't notice that I had possessed your hero, slain your father, killed your knights and mages.\"\n\n\"I don't believe you,\" she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. \"If what you say is true, why would you tell me this?\"\n\n\"Ah, of course you cannot believe me now, no one can. You all accepted me as your savior so easily. No one asked if I just made up scripture as I went. And when I proclaimed the death penalty for heresy, no one realized what I was doing. And now that I've taught my Teachings, like an unbreakable mind control spell that grows with each passing day... You'd think that'd get your attention.\" He unsheathed the Light of Justice from his belt, flooding the room with light, and he pressed it against her neck.\n\nShe stared at it, eyes wide with fear.\n\n\"Oh, did that finally catch your interest?\" He pulled the sword away. \"Want to know why the hero's sword glows?\" He brought out her amulet and set it on the nightstand, then with a swing of his sword, shattered it. The mote of spirit-light floated out and became sucked into the sword, adding to its brilliance. \"This is the 'Light of Justice' you revere: the light of countless thousands of trapped souls. I killed them all, and now they are mine to command. This, plus a battlefield, equals an army.\"\n\nHe got up from the bed. \"But I won't need a battlefield tonight, because my undead army is already here. For being the living, you sure are a mindless lot.\" He looked back at her. \"You needn't fear for your life yet, my queen. I've yet to show you how utterly and completely you've delivered your people into my power.\" And with that, he resheathed his sword, walked out of the room and slammed the door shut.\n" ]	4
	[WP] You have the ability to borrow minds.	[ "I scanned the room, my mind wandering from the book that lay open in front of me. A man sat by a large window, his back to the room. His hands sat idly on his knees, he was relaxed, my heart beat slowed as I stared at him. His thoughts began float through my mind, pieces at first, some words, broken from their original sentences leaving them without meaning. As I watched more closely the thoughts got longer and his mind began pushing mine out. My instinct was to fight it but after years of borrowing I knew how to disconnect from my own mind and let his in easily. \n\nHis thoughts and feelings flooded in followed by years of memories. I want he'd as his head slumped into his lap and guilt rushed over me. Not everyone passed out, it wasn't unusual but it still shocked me. I glanced around seeing if anyone had seen but the few people left in the library were focused on them selves. Images flashed through my head, of a little boy I assumed was him. Nothing stood out to me and my mind began to wander again. \n\nAs I released his mind he slowly raised his head and I could see him trying to understand what had happened. Most people thought they had dozed off or zoned out and brushed it off. I looked back down at the book staring a the words without really caring what they said. I glanced back up and my eyes landed on a girl I hadn't noticed before. She sat in the corner her knees pulled up to her chest and her hair fallen across her face. As usual when my mind connected with someone else's, my body adapted to theirs. My heart sped slightly and my hands began to shake just as I could see were. She was younger than me but not by much, maybe fifteen. Slowly her mind began to seep into my head just as the man's had. Just as strands of her thoughts became clear, it all stop and her mind pulled back.\n\nHer head shot up and her eyes met mine, her fear and anger coursed through my veins. She stood up began walking towards me, the connection wasn't completely lost and I could feel her heart racing. My own confusion and fear began to seep in. It was as if she knew what I was doing. It was the strangest feeling as I had never held a half way connection for this long. I stood up and walked quickly to the door leaving my book open on the table. I tried to push her mind out hoping she would forget, but it was like she was holding it there. \n\nShe sped up following me out the doors of the library. I stopped knowing I had to confront her as another attempt to push her out failed. \n\"How did you do that\" she ask forcefully. But I could still feel her emotions and I knew she was just as afraid as I was. \"You can borrow?\" A strange emotion came through her, and mixture of fear and hope and something else I could quite make out. \n\n\"I-I don't know what's you talking about\" I stammered but I knew it was useless. I had never encountered someone who knew what I could do so I wasn't sure if she could feel my emotions as well. \n\nSuddenly her eyes changed from a light brown to dark grey. The emotion I couldn't quite make out ran through her and suddenly I wasn't sure it was an emotion. A strange exhaustion washed over me and my thought began to blur. My vision faded in and out, as I stumbled to a nearby wall to support myself. Slowly I slid down as my knees became to weak for my weight. \"Wh-at are you d-doing\" I slurred. She looked almost sorry staring down at me. Before I could let out another word mind went blank and the blackness washed over me. ", "Have you ever wished you had their life? His wife, her job, his car, her kids, whatever. Have you ever just wanted to be someone else?\n\nYou don't. Trust me.\n\nI can't tell you anything about myself. I don't know who I am. Not anymore. I know I used to have a family, but I can't remember their names or their faces, or anything about them. I'm lost.\n\nI have the ability to, quote on quote, borrow other people's minds. I become them. I live as them in their body, their life. I inherit their memories, their experiences, their hobbies, everything. What happens to them, I don't know. Perhaps they become me.\n\nThe only things I carry over from my old self are small details about myself, or the people I spent time around, the knowledge of my ability, and the knowledge that if I find my old self, I will know who that is.\n\nThe problem is that I have to find it.\n\nSee, when I discovered this ability, I figured that out fairly quickly. I would restrict myself to borrowing my close friends' minds, learning their secrets and discovering how they were just as complicated as I was.\n\nThen I found someone whose life I loved so much, whose life I couldn't possibly give up, that I stayed. I did everything in my power to avoid coming into contact with my old self so that I could keep my life as her.\n\nAnd then she moved away, far away.\n\nHer new surroundings confused her, confused me, and life got worse. Jobs were lost, relatives passed away, and it wasn't long before I wanted out. I didn't know who I was trying to find, and I didn't know how to find them, but I knew that I could borrow others' minds.\n\nSo that's what I did. I left her. Became someone else. Still searching.\n\nEvery time I switched, I lost everything. Start again from square one, with a vaguer and vaguer sense of purpose. I've become so many people throughout my life that I've lost track of everything that I once was. Who am I looking for?\n\nWho am I?" ]	2
	[WP] It's the future and You are left behind on an evacuated spaceship with a deadly Alien	[ "The ship was going down, and everyone knew it. They had all left in the escape pods, but not me. Nobody had given the evacuation order, and someone had to keep the ship running.\n\nI am Engineer Third Class Nigel Crux of the HMS Cutlass. I'm one of the people responsible for keeping the ship running, and she wasn't doing too well. A heavily damaged Vunri light gunship had just blown several holes in our armor, then crashed through one of the larger breaches. There was no time to react. We were losing air, and many of our systems had been compromised in the collision. I was the last one left in the engineering bay, directing the few remaining repair drones and sealing off breached areas as best as I could. The biggest problem, though, wasn't that the hull breach was letting our air out, but that it had let a Vunri in.\n\nVunri aren't evil per se, they just have a very different moral code from humans. To them, the world has a very simple structure: the weak die, the strong live, and any action taken in self-preservation or in saving one's friends is justified. Of course, Vunri generally don't kill without good reason, but our Golden Rule is less a moral imperative and more of a guideline to them. The way a Vunri sees it, anyone they are able to kill would have been chewed up and spit out by a cruel world sooner or later.\n\nThis Vunri had been in a sinking ship, all of his crewmates dead. He was desperate, and probably still enraged by the loss of his companions. Another important thing about Vunri: they are dangerous. A large part of the reason they can be so ruthless is that life on their native world forces them to be. In order to have any chance of survival there, they had to be tough, clever, strong, and, above all else, deadly. One Vunri was slaughtering a crew of 200 humans, so I could only imagine how harsh their homeworld had to be to make such creatures struggle to survive.\n\nI saw it all through the ships cameras. The crew fled, helpless before the lone, enraged Vunri. My brothers in arms were dying out there, and all I could hope to do was to keep the ship from falling to pieces long enough for them to escape. My repair drones welded the damaged areas closed, while I sealed bulkheads behind the fleeing crew. They only served to slow our enemy down. By the time the last escape pod left, a handful crewmembers lay dead. I'm still surprised at how many made it out. I guess the Vunri didn't need us dead, just off of the ship.\n\nWith nobody else to vent his anger on, and the ship now his, the Vunri finally calmed down. He tore open doors, trying to find the bridge. I made sure the engineering bay was in lockdown, then tried to figure out a route around the Vunri that would take me to one of the escape pods before realizing they were all gone. In the panic, all of the spares must have been taken as well, probably with only half of their capacity each. I felt betrayed. My comrades had done what they had needed to to survive, but if they had thought for a moment, they would have filled the pods before jettisoning. They could have at least spared a thought for the one keeping the ship operational long enough for them to flee.\n\nI looked at the monitors again. The Vunri was probably searching for the bridge, but was instead going down the corridor leading to the engineering bay, and me. With no escape in sight, I snatched my rifle from the rack and trained it on the door. If I was going to die here, I was going to die fighting.\n\nThe door was little impedance to the Vunri. He made a long gash in it with a breach welder, a common melee weapon and tool of boarders, then slipped his hands through the gaps and gripped the hot metal, tearing it asunder.\n\nI froze. Even after watching this creature slaughter the crew, seeing him in person still shook me. I thought I was a dead man, that he would spring on me in my moment of hesitation and rip me to shreds. He didn't. We stared at each other, and for a brief moment, I empathized with him. We weren't so different: lone survivors on wrecked ships. I couldn't pity him, but I could understand him.\n\nHe must have thought the same thing, because rather than just kill me, he spoke. Believe it or not, I had originally intended to be an engineer for the Diplomatic Aid Corps, assisting with repairs and public works to strengthen alliances, before I had transferred to the Stellar Navy. Part of my training was becoming conversant in most alien languages. I was never much good at that, which is part of the reason I transferred. Nonetheless, I understood the gist of his message. It was a brief question: \"Survivor?\" I lowered my weapon. The Vunri language was not meant for human vocal chords or mouths, but, with practice, it could be managed. \"Yes,\" I replied. The Vunri seemed confused, so I must have mangled it. \"Yes,\" I said again, this time in English. It isn't uncommon for many spacefaring races to learn to understand other species' languages, so that two parties can each speak in their native tongue. He seemed like he understood\n\nThe Vurni asked another question, this time using simple enough Vunri vocabulary for even me to understand him: \"You stayed?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I answered, to the Vunri's confusion. My cultural training reminded me that self-sacrifice was an alien concept to the Vunri. Vunri prized personal survival above all else, and none of them expect anyone else to die for their own sake. To put the life of another before one's own was rare for a Vunri, and considered foolish.\n\n\"Who are you,\" asked the Vunri. My small amount of diplomatic training kicked in, and a plan came to mind. \"Engineer Nigel Crux,\" I replied. \"I am the only one who can repair this ship. You need me.\" He made a noise that could have been confusion or understanding, so I gestured at the monitors, and the repair drones that were currently welding the hull breaches closed. He spoke again: \"The ship is mine.\" I dropped my weapon at his feet, and said, defiantly, \"I understand. The ship is yours. At least until it falls apart.\" I hit a key and deactivated the repair drones. \"The ship is stable, for now,\" I continued, \"but she won't last long without an engineer. Without me.\" I thought of how my shipmates, my allies, had left me for dead. This Vunri had killed several, but I owed them nothing. I realized that the only way out of this was an unlikely partnership. \"We need to work together, or the ship will go down,\" I told the Vunri, firmly.\n\nWith those words, I extended my hand, foolishly, for him to shake. Again, there is a good reason I didn't stay in the Diplomatic Aid Corps. The Vunri reached out with his hand, as though to accept the gesture, then, with a quick, precise flick of his clawed fingers, left a pattern of gashes over the back of my hand. I recoiled, and drew my pistol. As I aimed it at him, I got a good look at my hand. The cuts formed a Vunri symbol, vaguely familiar. The Vunri spoke again, a single word. \"Survivor.\" Suddenly, I recognized the rune he had put on the back of my hand. In Vunri society, much like many human cultures, scars indicate one who has been through exceptionally harsh times and made it out alive. This Vunri had just honored me with my first. I lowered my weapon.\n\nThe Vunri pointed at himself, and said \"Captain,\" then pointed at me and said, \"First Mate.\" I had just been promoted.\n\n================\n\nI am First Mate and Chief Engineer Nigel Crux of the Pirate Cutlass, serving under a Vunri who I refer to only as Captain Vunri, since I cannot pronounce his real name. Our understanding of each others' languages is getting better every day. I know that if the going gets tough, he'll save himself before me, but I also know that he would expect me to do the same. Vunri morality makes some sense in a cruel world. I saved my crew, and was repaid by being left to die on a wrecked ship with a Vunri. I doubt any of them would have died for me. Captain Vunri wouldn't either, but he at least respects me.", "I hear sirens, like crying, from a distance exaggerated by the steel walls around me. They sound despairing to me, like how I would sound weeping in the dark as a child. They're the only sound I hear. My heart is beating too fast to recognize, my breathing kept so shallow that no normal ears could pick it up. My footsteps are similarly quiet, silent on the polished floor as I shuffle down a hall which extends far, far beyond my vision into the dark. Unlike my crew, I never had to learn the layout of this monstrous shipping vessel. These walls are as alien and threatening as what I know stalks them with me. I could as easily starve as anything else.\n\nGod, I hope I just starve.\n\nThe emergency lighting follows me down the hall. Rather than light the whole ship, motion sensors cast a red hue over anything that walks through it. This means that an apparently endless darkness extends before and behind me, swallowing all noise and light cast into it. I want to look over my shoulder, to whirl around and search the void. I hate how it rips at my clothes, how it smothers my eyes. The darkness drips through walls feet thick, oozing in from the interstellar void, and I can almost feel it on my skin like moth wings. I know that the air in these halls never moves but I am still chilled by some cosmic breeze, like my own shivering breath. The only break in the void is the crying, the wailing, so far away I could almost be imagining the sound. I think I'm walking towards the source, the pods, waking slowly, and I can't help but imagine that my next steps will illuminate a child, small and ghostly white, with their face in their hands, shaking in the dark just like I did at night, just like I am now.\n\nI look behind me. I can't help it. I look suddenly behind me, like I knew it was following me, like I could hear it's coughing laugh. My neck hurts and my eyes strain, but all I see is another aimless corridor of darkness. How the crew found the pods in this, even with the ship memorized, even with the torches they took and of which they left none for me, how those idiots found the doors in this dark I'll never know. I turn around to face what I think is forward, and along with the silence of my breath, of my feet and heart, my eyes stare into the dark now suddenly silenced of its crying. The sirens have stopped. Now, the darkness is complete, I am the sole disturbance in the whole of it. A breeze rushes forward past me, blowing my long hair in front of my face. That's the airlock discharging, the pods leaving, the dying breath of any remaining hope.\n\nI'm frozen, not even shaking, statuesque despite the icy adrenaline exploding through my chest and through my veins. My hands are stiff as though with frostbite, and when I glance down at them a moment later I almost expect frozen black flesh and peeling fingernails. Instead, my hands and arms glisten with sweat, sweat I now realize is dripping down my face, like rain. A drop rolls slowly down my forehead, collecting others as it runs it's icy course to my right eyebrow. It hesitates there, perched, as if waiting, and it distracts me just long enough I don't immediately notice the red light down the hall. I don't see the slow illumination, way in front of me, see how it grows slowly, crawling from what appears to be an intersection in the halls. It's still a moment before my wide eyes grasp what they see nestled in all the nothing.\n\nI jerk my head up and the drop falls into my eye, filling it with a salty sting that I absolutely Must resist rubbing. My eyes, now watery with tears or sweat or delusional horror, watch as the light slowly flows around the corner. I hold my breath, my chest painfully clasped, but I don't hear crying, nor breathing, not claws, or a slithering tail, or clicking teeth. I hear a distant, sharp cough, like a dog choking. I remember watching footage of it break out of a crate, hacking and clutching at it's long neck, leathery hands wrapped tightly around it's esophagus. I remember watching it choke as the crew screamed on the radio, remember it falling at the feet of a worker frozen like I was now. I knew his blood was congealing on the floor somewhere far behind me, and that I would never forget watching the monster rip him open.\n\nAs I watched I saw a hand reach out, following the wall, grasping until it ended at the intersection and fell to the floor. The light slap of it hitting the ground echoed softly before it slid forward again, arcing, looking for the wall to guide it.\n\nThe thing groped like a blind man at the air before it found the corner and pulled itself forward, as if struggling against some weight. First I saw it's snout, open mouthed and panting around the corner. Teeth all the shape of arrowheads glow white against it's mottled grey skin as a long dark tongue rolls down one side. A drop of saliva falls to the ground as it's heaving chest comes into view, ribs straining against thin skin. It crawls on all fours, it's arms sinewy and thin, deceptively weak looking. It curls it's fingers against the floor, clenching and re-clenching it's fists. It turns it's head towards me, eyes glistening in the red glow of the lights, and I know this is the end. I feel a sob swell in my chest as the tears in my eyes roll down my cheeks, but before I can fully react it just as quickly turns away and keeps crawling into the hall. I stare helplessly as it's legs come into view, as disturbingly human as it's arms, with clawed toes that do click on the steel floor. Right as the tail comes into view, narrow and prehensile and waving irritably, the beast couches to sit on the balls of its feet.\n\nA hand rises to it's chest, scratching at its ribs, before it brings the hand to it's mouth and chews on the fingers for a moment. It looks around the halls, its whole hand in its mouth, its sightless eyes casting about randomly. One moment I felt overwhelmingly as though it looked right at me, pausing for a minute, but it just coughed again and turned away. I stood watching it pick at its skin and chew on it's fingers for what felt like an eternity, the image of its slouching shoulders and long neck burning into my eyes with shades in red and black, and my legs grew tired from standing so long. I feared that my legs would collapse beneath me, but soon the creature gave a few pants, waved its head to either side and stood up again on all it's limbs. Its tail rose proudly behind it, almost touching the ceiling as it found another wall and continued on its way. The red light went with it, and soon I realized I'd been still so long even my light had left me. I slid slowly to the wall, not rousing the lights, and fell down to sit silently in a blind darkness that I now welcomed over my own sight. I cried, silently, my arms shaking as they held my knees to my chest. The pain of stifling my voice was sharp, distracting, and my irregular breathing filled my head so that I don't notice the coughing, and my eyes tightly shut miss the red light. It's not until a touch on my cheek, of outstretched fingertips still wet with saliva, still warm, that I scream." ]	2
For example, the power to be transported instantly to a place when you think of it.	[WP] You live in a world where everyone has super powers which are more frustrating than helpful	[ "\"It's just a shitty power,\" I tell her, as she nods along, \"Why would anyone want their toenails to be razor-blades? I don't want to fight crime. I just want to own a pair of shoes that lasts me longer than a day.\"\n\nThe waiter, stepping over to refill our cups, hears me. \"You think that's bad?\" he asks, \"Listen to this.\" The waiter seems to dislocate his jaw, and lets loose a fierce roar that rattles the cutlery. \n\n\"What the hell was that?\" I ask.\n\n\"That was me saying hello in the language of the Tyrannosaurus Rex\", the waiter informs us, \"I'm fluent in all dinosaur languages, you see. Unfortunately, as there are very few dinosaurs alive in 2016, it's a fairly useless superpower. At least you can mow the lawn with your toes.\"\n\nThis hadn't occurred to me. \"I suppose...\" I muse, as the waiter turns to the next table, \"it's not an entirely useless power...\" \n\nMy date smiles, but doesn't respond. \"Forgive me,\" I beg her, \"I've only been complaining, and talking about myself. Tell me about you. What's your power?\"\n\nShe hesitates. \"Don't get mad,\" she warns.\n\n\"Why would I be mad?\" I ask, confused.\n\n\"Well...\" she takes a deep breath. \"I don't need to drink water, you see. My body sustains itself by listening to boring stories.\"\n\n\"Ah.\" This hurts. \"I suppose our date is at an end, then?\"\n\n\"Actually, would you mind whining a little more? I'm still thirsty.\"" ]	1
My boyfriend had this idea and really wanted me to post it :)	[WP] A heist is about to go down, but none of the perpetrators have synced their watches.	[ "It all goes down at 10 a.m. Issac had been working at New Town Bank as IT for three months, getting their trust. At 10, he will unlock a fire exit to allow Bartha in. Bartha will have brought the USB from Cody to hack into the banks network with, as well as two Glock 17s, one for both Issac and Bartha. Issac will lead Bartha into the security room, under the guise of being an outsourced IT agent. They will connect the USB to the mainframe, and at 10:02 Cody will use to hack the vault door into staying unlocked. Issac meanwhile will disable the panic buttons from the security room. Then, at 10:05, Fitzgerald will come in through the front door with two MAC-10s and suppress any guards and civilians there. Bartha will join him in keeping them down. Issac, meanwhile, will clear out the vault and unload every penny the bank has into the black van parked outside. Finally, when everything is clear, the crew will get into the van, where Chi will pick the van up in the helicopter exactly on time and fly the crew away to safety. A perfect plan.\n\n***\nIssac opened the door one minute too early. By the time Bartha got to the door, some nice employee had already closed it. \"Goddammit Issac.\" Bartha thought, as she got out her lockpicks.\n*\nChi was asleep. He wouldn't be needed for a while, so \"Hey!\" he had thought to himself, \"Might as well take a nap. The church bell will wake me up when it's time!\" \n*\nFitz was getting antsy. He wasn't sure if he would hold up to the pressure. I mean, this is his first time actually using a gun for something other than firing at paper targets. He glanced at his watch for the fifteenth time. 10:02. Could his watch go any faster?\n*\nIssac had waited for Bartha's arrival for too long now. She should have gotten in by now. Frustrated, he walked over to the fire exit where he noticed a security guard looking around, confused. The hapless guard thought his tinnitus was acting up again, as he was hearing weird clicking from...somewhere? He couldn't pinpoint the source. \n\nIssac swore silently. He needed to move the guard, now.\n\n\"Hey, chief!\" Issac called out, snapping the guard back to reality. \"There's something I need to tell you about your... uhh... workflow... station... couldyoufollowmetoyourdeskrealquick?\"\n\nThe guard blinked. \"Uhh, sure thing buddy. What's up?\"\n\n\"Well, it's kinda hard to explain without your computer, you know, technical stuff and things. If you could just follow me for a sec...\"\n*\nBartha sighed in relief as the door finally clicked open. \"About damn time.\" she muttered to herself. She put away her tools and entered the building. Then her heart stopped. A guard. Wait, it's okay. He's walking away with...Issac??\n\nIssac caught her eye and he mouthed the words \"Don't worry!\" as he walked around the corner and away. Bartha felt her eye twitch.\n*\nThe sound of the church bell woke Chi up in a real hurry. He fumbled his keys into the ignition, prepared for takeoff, and took off. Chi would get to the bank right on time.\n*\nIssac started to panic. The whole plan was based around everyone being on time with no delays! And now he has to get rid of this random guard person that he picked up somewhere! \n\n\"So, what's the problem with my workflowstation?\" The guard asked.\n\n\"Well, uhh...\" Issac racked his brain for inspiration. He needed something quick. Something even a dumb security guard could handle.\n\n\"...Your...computer is...dusty?\" was all Issac could come up with. Hopefully now the guard will look at Issac like he was a dumbass and just walk away. It wouldn't look good, no, but Issac didn't really care. He just wanted the guard gone.\n\nInstead, the guard balked. \"Oh my god! I didn't know I needed to think about my computer getting dusty! Why didn't you say something earlier? Honestly, you IT people need to be more attentive. I mean, what does the company pay you for anyways...\"\n\nIssac took the guard's ranting as his cue to slip away. But then he felt a large beefy hand grab his spindly bicep.\n\n\"Oh no you don't! You honestly think I'm qualified to fix my computer? This is your problem bub! You're gonna fix it or I'm complaining!\"\n*\nFitz glanced at his watch. 10:04. Fuck, almost showtime. His mouth was dry. He put the bullets he was playing with back into the magazines and slid that into the guns. He tapped his watch impatiently, staring at the second hand. 59...58...\n*\nBartha got up when she saw Issac running back, out of breath. \n\n\"What took you so bloody long you idiot?\" Bartha hissed.\n\n\"Well-\" Issac tried to catch his breath.\n\n\"Whatever, we're behind. Get us to the security room. Now.\"\n\n\"Yes madam!\"\n*\nBOOM! Another defeat. Cody decided that enough was enough and closed down Minesweeper and opened up the hacking prompt. He glanced at the computer's clock. 9:59. Almost showtime...\n*\nBartha locked the door behind them. She took the USB out of her pack and handed it to Issac who shoved it into the mainframe. \n\n\"Alright,\" said Issac, \"now I just need to disable the-\"\n\nHis words were cut off by the sound of two MAC-10s going off at once.\n*\n10:05. It's time.\n\nFitz opened the van door and walked, confident as he could, into the bank. He took two steps in, then pulled out both machine pistols and fired them into the ceiling.\n\n\"EVERYBODY GET DOWN! THIS IS A ROBBERY! NO SUDDEN MOVEMENTS...\"\n*\n\"Fuck, we're too late! Issac!\" Bartha barked, \"Take this and get the panic buttons. NOW!\"\n\nShe took a Glock from her pack and threw it at Issac who almost caught it. Bartha pulled the other Glock out and raced for the front desk.\n*\nIssac disabled the panic buttons, for all the good it would do now. Someone was bound to have pressed one the moment Fitz barged in guns blazing. Whatever. Down to the vault.\n*\n\"...AND IF I SEE ANYONE MOVING, YOU'RE GETTING A FUCKING BULLET, YOU GET ME?\"\n\nBartha came barreling into the room from behind the tellers. She pointed the gun threateningly.\n\n\"You head the man! No fucking moving! And hands off that button!\"\n*\nCody watched the computer's clock tick up. 10:01:03...10:01:04... God, real life is so slow.\n\nThen his cell phone rang. \"Not a good time mom...\" he thought as he picked up the phone. It was Issac. That's odd. Cody answered.\n\n\"Issac?\"\n\n\"Why the FUCK IS THE VAULT CLOSING!?!?\"\n*\nThe vault was a massive, circular hunk of steel and titanium that could easily stop a nuke. And it was closing. Issac just stared for a second in shock. Then he opened his cell phone.\n\nWords were traded, swears were made, viruses were belatedly fired off. But just as the vault door was about to close, it stopped! Albeit with just enough space for Issac to squeeze in.\n\nIssac gulped. Too late to back out now!\n*\nCody leaned back in his chair, exhausted. He never liked teamwork anyways. The best team is a team of one after all. He sighed. At least his part of the job is done. He went over to his web browser and searched up images of cats while ignoring the police scanner going completely out of control.\n*\nFitz and Bartha were having a better time. Nobody dared move an inch while two gunmen had three guns trained on the whole room. And so they waited.\n\nAnd then they heard sirens.\n\n\"Issac!\"\n*\nIssac threw whatever he could out the gap in the vault. Cash bundles, gold bricks, it was not an insubstantial amount, but it was messy and way too slow for his liking. He had somehow smuggled a wheelbarrow into the vault beforehand in preparation for the heist, but now it just sat in the corner, useless.\n\n\"Fucking hell Issac!\" Bartha's head peeked into the room.\n\n\"Goddammit, what is it now??\"\n\n\"The cops are here! We need to leave!\"\n*\nFitz watched in surprise as Bartha threw a gold bar at him, which he caught just before it hit his chest.\n\n\"We're leaving! NOW!\" Bartha barked as she and Issac ran for the door. Fitz held the bar in one hand and fired off one last warning shot with his other before joining the crew outside. Time to go.\n*\nFitz was shocked. Bartha had her hands in her hair. And Issac said the words on everybody's mind, in a voice of pure defeat.\n\n\"Where's the van?\"\n*\nAn old man was sitting with his wife in the park a few blocks down from the bank when the bell struck 10. The old man tried to get up, but then his wife put a hand on his shoulder.\n\n\"John, you always forget. The bell hasn't been on time for the last twenty years!\"\n**\nChi flew off, payload on board, headed for the safe zone. In spite of himself, Chi couldn't help but laugh! Twenty million dollars! He couldn't believe it! All he had to do was fly the helicopter! And as he flew, he realized he wouldn't have to worry about a single thing from now on. He was set for life!", "1. robber 4 cuts the building's net and phone lines. \n\n1. robber 4 then pulls out a black box and switches it on. \n\n# noon sharp enter bank\n\n1. robber 3 lags behind\n\n1. robber 2 walks up and sucker punches the guard\n\n1. robber 1 walks up to the teller\n\n1. robber 3 chains the door shut\n\n1. robber 4 gets in his car and slowly drives around to the back parking lot. \n\n1. robber 2 grabs the guard's gun and shouts \"This is a robbery! Nobody move! You move you get hurt\"\n\n1. robber 1 reaches through the glass opening and grabs the teller by the collar growling \"hands on the desk, whose your manager\"\n\n1. robber 3 pulls out a paintball pistol and lights up all ten cameras around the entrance.\n\n1. robber 2 ties up the guard\n\n1. robber 1 ties the teller's hands together and threads her arms through the gap in the glass wall\n\n1. robber 3's watch goes off, \"We got ten minutes\"\n\n1. robber 2 goes to the well dressed man crouching behind the desk. \"You the manager?\" \"Yyyyyes.\" \"Lead the way. Vault.\"\n\n1. robber 1 follows robber 2. \n\n1. robber 3 rounds up the three other people, including the teller, into the lobby area. Takes their phones, which all say 'no service'\n\n1. robber 1 and 2 reach the 'vault' with the manager. It's 3 free tall and could probably be carried by both guys. \"Open it\" says one.\n\n> The manager opens the vault, swings open the door putting it between them and him. \n\n> Inside is stacks of cash. Open a duffel bag and fill it with the cash. Maybe a million.\n\n1. robber 1 and 2 tie up the manager, gag him. leave him in the office. They run back to the lobby collecting robber 3. \"C'mon lets get out of here\"\n\n1. robber 3 \"Three minutes to spare, good timing guys.\"\n\n1. robber 4 pulls around front, stopping just long enough in his black mustang, to collect the other three people and duffel bag, before peeling off into the bright glaring sun. The wail of sirens in the distance told them they had pulled it off.\n\n---\n\nThings read so nice when put down on paper. Do this, do that, then this then that. Done! Easy peasy. \n\n\"Ok, Don. You ready? We got this no problem. It's just a local branch, nobody is supposed to know they even HAVE a safe.\"\n\n\"Sure, Boss. Got it all right up here\" tapping his head. \"I'm gonna take a break and nap off the nerves.\"\n\n\"Eat something too before you go. You can use my cot in the other room.\"\n\nHe waved his thanks. The others had already gone to pack.\n\nThere wasn't much needed. Jon, or so we aliased him, had the most equipment with his intrusion tech. Lon was doing stretches in the yard. \n\nWe had to do this fast and clean, no hesitation. \n\nI took the last thirty minutes to myself before tromping to the car. They were already there waiting, for me. \"Lets roll out.\"\n\nEveryone clambered silently into the car. We moved with purpose. The plan was clear. \n\nJon dropped us off at the door. We hustled in under the broiling sun. Ski masks were no joke. The door double-chimed. That echo always annoyed me.\n\nDon, Lon, and I straightened up and hustled straight for our parts. My timer told me we'd just cut the phone, net and cell coverage. Sure enough, the two other people were tapping frustratedly at their phones. \n\nThen they saw us. \n\nDon's paintball pistol must have freaked out the older lady, because suddenly she was screaming bloody murder. The guard, coming out of the staff lounge, almost didn't see Lon's sucker punch, but only took half the power. Don's paintball stunned him long enough to be dragged to the ground. \n\nFour minutes in, guard unconscious, cameras awash with paint, Lon's watch beeped and he called \"We got ten minutes.\" \"What?\" I checked my watch. \"Ten. minutes.\" \"Ok Ok. time's wasting lets go.\"\n\nThe half hidden drama of our scuffle had drawn the attention of the teller. She was back there busily dialing her phone. Hanging up. Trying again. Hanging up, this time frantic. Good. \n\nI marched up and grabbed her dialing arm. \"Time to stop. Or he'll stop you.\" I pointed to Don. His unfortunate choice of paintball color made the guard look like his brains had been blown out. She gasped a sob. And let go.\n\n\"Good. Come out here and we won't have to hurt you. You can't see our faces and you'll forget our voices.\"\n\n\"Carl...\"\n\n\"Keep your damn mouth shut\" another beeping \"eight minutes\" called Lon.\n\nAs I led the silently sobbing teller back to Lon, I saw he'd expertly restrained and confiscated the devices of the waiting customers. \n\n\"Where's the manager. We aren't going to hurt him.\"\n\n\"He's. He's. not here. He's on vacation\"\n\n\"Don't lie to me! His car is outside!\" I was almost screaming in her ear. I could feel the seconds ticking.\n\nAt that very moment a door slowly slid open a crack, off down the staff hallway. I grinned. \"Stay\" I growled in a whisper. \n\nI stood up and turned my back to the door. I waved Don to give me his pistol, out of sight of the door.\n\nAs I expected, the manager was a heroic type. I heard the door open in a whoosh, and the stomping feet of a charge. Then I spun and stuck the pistol up his nose. It had red paint on its muzzle. I gave him a good look. \n\nThen I gave him a good look. He was half a head taller than me, and hadn't stopped.\n\nThe distance between standing and lying facedown evaporated, and then he saw the gun, no longer in my hand. And then he saw... I guess his name is Carl. I was a tad concussed. \n\n\"YOU BASTARDS.\" He was going into a berzerker rage, so I shot him in the nose. At three feet. Paintballs hurt, man. \n\nHe went down like a ham bagel. Lon's watch beeped. \"two minutes man.\" \n\n\"What!? We had five more minutes! Look!\" I showed Lon. We were tying up the dazed manager and searching for keys. My watch showed eight minutes had passed.\n\n\"No! We were late! Look!\" He showed me his watch, which was an analogue device, and showed five minutes ahead of mine. \n\n\"Oh shit. What's Jon got?\" \"Dunno.\" \n\nAnd then the phones started ringing. I tackled the teller girl before she reached one, but we were done. \n\nMaster key in hand we snatched all the cash from the tills, then skeedadled. \n\n\"Shit!\" that was Don, \"Where's Jon?\" Nobody was waiting for us, and the parking lot was sorely missing our vehicle.\n\nI called him. \"Jon! Where are you?\" \"WTF man! You left me out there to dry! There were cops everywhere!\"\n\n\"Wha? No! We're standing outside, there's nobody here!\"\n\n\"Yea, cause they're all chasing me you fuckwit!\"\n\n\"Ah. ...call me when you ditch them. Take the other bridge.\"\n\n\"If they catch me you're a dead man.\"\n\n\"That's what I should be saying. Good luck.\"\n\nTurning to Lon and Don. \"Ok guys, we got no ride but he's leading the cavalry on a merry chase. You got a bus pass?\"\n\nIt was at this point we all started stripping off the masks. We'd almost gotten back to normal human dress code when we heard a gun cock.\n\n\"Don't. Move.\" The manager. He had the old lady's phone in hand, listening to the 911 operator. We could hear sirens off in the distance.\n\n\n", "\"Ladies and gentlemen, get on the floor. Except you. You, little missy, you come with me.\" Paul fired his pistol twice in the air for good measure, aiming it this way and that. \"Don't you think about touching that button. I'll put one right between your eyes.\" He held the woman close as he backed towards the door marked employees only...\n\nMeanwhile, in the security office: \n\n\"I think you need to take a look at this, Jim. It's a heist, I think.\" \n\nA short, red-faced man in an off-white uniform scurried over. \"You think? What's that guy doing? Is he alone? Why isn't security there?\" Jim scanned the monitors. \"Get security to cut him off, stat!\" \n\n\"I don't think we have to, sir. That door he's trying to get through is locked.\" \n\nBoth guards just blinked as they watched the man pushing against the door with his back. His hostage looked like she was getting bored. \n\n\"Is he... letting her have a try?\" \n\nSure enough, the hostage jiggled the doorknob a few times, turned to the gunman, and gave him a 'yep, it's locked' shrug. \n\n\"Hey, that guy's shooting our cameras.\" A businessman, during the commotion, had donned a Donald Trump mask and taken out three of the nine cameras in the lobby. He then looked around and shouted something into a walkie talkie. \n\nThe bathroom doors flung open while another would-be bank robber, gun in one hand, donning his mask in the other, ran towards a cluster of cameras and tripped over a hostage. \n\n\"Tell security to take their time. Wish they didn't take out 3 of our cameras. This is better than Netflix. Donut?\" \n\nBy the time the police came, the three robbers had already been subdued. They lay there, on the floor, in cuffs, grimacing as a fourth robber burst from the employees only door with open arms. \"Alright people, it's SHOWTIME! What the fuck?\" \n\nHe dropped his pistol an was briefly apprehended after fifteen security guards and a squadron of policemen leveled their guns at him. \n\n\"Dammit Mike. At least Karl got away.\" One of the goons mutters. They get loaded into the cop cars, putting an end to the excitement for that day. \n\nExcept an hour later, when a bus crashed through the front doors and Karl stepped out. \"Let's GO! MOVE MOVE MOVE! Guys?\" \n\n\n\n", "\"Alison,\" the bank Manager called. \"Come over here for a moment, would ya.\" \n\nAlison rose from her receptionist's desk and made her way over to the front of the branch. \"Yes, sir?\"\n\n\"Does that seem odd to you?\" he asked, pointing over to the black car parked in front of the building, its engine revving loudly. \"It's almost as if the driver is waiting to get away in something of a hurry.\"\n\n\"But we don't even open for another five minutes.\" she replied.\n\nThe manager removed his phone from his pocket and quickly dialed 9-1-1. \"Please send anyone you can. I believe we are about to be robbed.\"\n", "\"Is there anything else you need today sir?\" Said the bank clerk smiling. \n\nDave checked his watch and smirked, \"Well there is one thing... All the money in the vault!\" He shouted as he dived behind the counter. Silence hung heavy as everyone in the lobby stared at the man who was huddled behind the counter, covering his ears and his eyes shut tight. One eye winked open. \"Why is everyone still standing?\"\n\n\"Sir... are you... alright?\" Just then, a deafening crash was heard as a van reversed through the front doors. A man in a ski mask jumped out from the drivers seat screaming, \"Alright! Get the bags in the van we've only... got... Where's the money?\"\n\nDave stuttered, \"I- You- The getaway car wasn't supposed to be here until 1:37! After the safe was blown! How do we load the money if the safe is st-\" A deafening explosion filled the room, throwing everyone with the blast.\n\nA third man emerged from the shattered door, \"Hey guys, I've got the sage open!\" Surveying the damage and the approaching police sirens, he checked his watch. \"Oh... oh no...\"", "~~12:00PM~~ 11:57AM\n\nJames stood in line, worriedly pawing the gun tucked into his waistband. This wasn't how it was supposed to go - he wasn't supposed to make the first move. His eyes were locked directly ahead, on that beautiful blond of a teller; anything too furtive and it may arouse the suspicion of the nearby guard. James needed the money, but more than that, he needed the win. Fuck it, they had planned this down to the second, and James was going to do his part. Pulling his gun, he fired wildly into the air while taking off on a hard sprint. The door automatically unlocks at 12:00:05 for two seconds when the computer cycle resets, thanks to Jimmy. Paul would take care of the guards after James spooks them. Frank would pull the car around. It was James' job to run and snag the second vault door, keeping it open so they could grab the loot. But to do so, he would have to literally throw himself into the vault. James was fast, a track star in high-school that never amounted to much; today he would get to relive his glory days.\n\nOf all the bystanders, the guard was most puzzled: it's not often that a man will pull a gun, fire into the air, and then run face-first into the vault door. The guard called the police to deal with the unconscious man, then took a long sip of his coffee.\n\n~~12:00PM~~ 11:59AM\n\nPaul strode in the doors, a beast of a man. His wild mane a stallion that he had choked into submission. Paul was intimidating by nature: he didn't relate well with people, and his \"resting bitch face\" did him no favors. Still, he had masterminded this plan, down to the second, so that everything would go without a hitch. Fortuitous that they already had a distraction, some passed out drunk had the attention of the guards. Jumping on the nearest table, Paul screamed at the top of his lungs \"THIS IS -\" And that's when the cops walked in, intent on arresting James. Paul paused as everyone, including the police, took a moment to stare at this enraged hulk. \"...sparta?\" Paul finished, and meekly got off the table. As the cops called Paul over, he avoided eye contact, and instinctively wrapped on the table three times. Time to go. Time to go. My Little Pony* is on in :44 minutes. Time to go. He ignored the police as they called him over, and quickly skipped out of the bank. As one officer began to give chase, Paul broke into a full run.\n\nThe lady had circled three times now, and a spot had finally opened up in front of the bank. Just as she was about to pull in, a jackass in a clown mask cut her off, and in the process, ran over a careless J-walker who failed to look for traffic. She had errands, and wasn't about to wait around to help clean up this mess, so she put the car back in drive and went about her way.\n\n~~12:00PM~~ 12:01PM\n\nFrank was running late. It wasn't until he had glanced at the receipt that he realized his watch was slow. God damn it, he didn't want to be the one that pissed on Paul's plan. They were counting on him to pick them up: a fast getaway, the key to any bank robbery. Well, at least they would appreciate the mask he bought. Professional clown. That's what the tag said. Professional. Frank always wanted to be a professional driver, hell, he would even settle to work a Taxi. That's what the money was for - one of those insanely expensive Taxi medallions. It would change his and Louise's lives. Professional. Frank would be professional. This was a job, and it would launch him into his new career. One block to go, and Frank donned his mask. Damn hard to see out of, but it looked good. Professional. One parking space in front of the bank - prime real estate. He deftly maneuvered around some hag, and nabbed the spot. The car jumped up, having hit the curb. Damn it Frank, not professional. There was a tap on the glass, and Frank turned his head. After maneuvering his mask a bit, he could just make out the shape of a gun. Well, thought Frank - let's see if I can play this off.\n\nThe officer was having one of those days. Some jackass tries to rob a bank, then a whacko starts disturbing the peace, only to get run over by a clown. Now he had this guy in a clown mask trying to mime his way out of an arrest. God damn it was a long day.\n\n~~12:00PM~~ 12:00AM\n\nJimmy woke up. Coding was hard work, but that was finished days ago. He had been burning his energy on early-AM gaming. He logged on to the bank system, used his exploit, and opened the vault door. In the bank, half a city away, the alarms sounded - not that Jimmy could hear them. After waiting ten minutes, it was time to check on the boys and see how much they had scored. They should be done with the getaway, and should be picking him up food from Taco Bell. First, he called Paul - no answer. Typical, probably absorbed by a forum for one of his kids' shows. Jimmy left a message and moved on to James. Still nothing. Jimmy left another message and called up Frank. Thank God Frank actually picks up his phone - not the most professional thing to do while driving. Jimmy launched into his typical banter, \"So how much did we score at the bank, thanks to my little exploit?\" On the other end, he got a very confused Frank, who kept insisting he knew nothing of any plan to rob a bank. Voice was muffled, probably bought that stupid mask he kept going on about. Clown-shit and the like. Pissed at the Abbot-and-Costello routine, Jimmy walked him through the plan, and punctuated each point with a \"got it stupid?\" Jimmy swore up and down, if they were trying to nip out on his share, he was going to be pissed.\n\nOn the other end of the phone sat a very tired-looking officer. As Jimmy asked ranted, the officer cut him off. \"Yeah, we got it.\"" ]	6
	[WP] You failed the first time. Now, you have one last chance to fix past mistakes. Make it count.	[ "\"Don't let it happen again,\" they told me as they threw my keys and my badge on the table. Grabbing them both in one hand and pocketing them, I left, my head hung low as I exited the office. I was angry at them, knowing that they would live to see another day even if I did fail. Stupid pricks, I thought to myself, donning my badge as I started towards my pod. The doors swished open and close in front and behind me, as I made my way to the port.\n\nOnce there, the biggest issue was trying to find a running pod. One thing about being on the Force was that we couldn't always find a pod that was working. Not our fault, I mean, defense of this scale was unheard of. But it was up to only a handful of us to actually make it work. And we did the best we could with the resources we had available to us. And this was only our second attempt, the first ending in complete failure and loss of the system. But it was our turn, and we were even more indebted to protect this one.\n\nAfter what felt like too long, I found a working pod and hopped into it. Immediately, I started it up and headed out. Surrounding the area there was nothing out of the ordinary, so I continued along for a stretch. As I got further and further away from home, my mind started to drift, start to relax for the first time in a long time. \n\nAnd that's when I saw it, what had the eggheads all worried. The star-shape of their craft, the glioblastoma we were sent out to fight. \"Lock and load,\" I thought as I radioed back to HQ. \"Glioblastoma in sector 3! Send all ships, and make sure they're armed with the Temozolomide warheads!\" I barked into the microphone, before I checked my systems. The cell I was in was a scout, but it still had access to some weapons of it's own.\n\nAnd I did have access to four Temozolomide warheads. The only problem was if I missed, I would be destroying healthy brain tissue. So I would have to wait for the cell to power up auto-targeting if I didn't want to miss. And if I waited for these aging auto-systems to come online, it would be too late for us, maybe even the host itself.\n\nDamned if I did, damned if I didn't.\n\nNow, unlike the rest of the prisoners stuck in here with me, I knew the mission. I didn't wake up wondering what we were doing. I was the one who knew everything that was going on. And that's why I demanded respect from the rest of them, or so I thought. And it was now time to wait, time to fight against these invaders. And either destroy them, or become destroyed themselves. \n\nMaybe this time, we could save little Jericho from the cancer, before it claimed his life. Perhaps, even succeed where we had failed before...\n\n****\n[NoireWrites - a collection of my stories](https://noirewrites.wordpress.com/)" ]	1
	[WP] Death approaches you and tells you he will claim your soul in one week. Death also says you can not die until your week is up, and if you do him some "favors" he may extend your time.	[ "\"Him.\", Death said. A few moments later, a dead man caused panic among people in the main square, stabbed from behind and no one suspecting the assassin was me. Was he a good person? Did he deserve to die like this? Was he a loving father? Had a family to support? Was an important person to his community? I stopped asking years ago, it no longer mattered to me. When you see the great scope of life, a single soul means almost nothing, except to Death.\n\nIt was six years ago when the Grim Reaper told me that I had a week left. I remember going through denial most of the week, anger took me on the last day when I saw \"It\" appearing again and was about to start bargaining when Death took the first step.\n\n\"Listen. You are scheduled to die today. But you don't have to. I do have to collect your soul but it doesn't need to be today\". What would you have done? I still had lots to do! Places to travel to, people to meet, find my soul mate perhaps or do something worthy with my life! I took the bait and became Its servant.\n\nDeath showed me the great scheme of things, showed me how God and Satan placed with our souls to fill their armies because you see, we have it all wrong. We're not supposed to be good in life to find ourselves resting in peace in heaven or eternally being tortured in hell. No. If we are good people, we fill God's army otherwise we become part of Hell's military. The original plan was for God to mass human souls to fight other deities, but Satan got in the way and now it was \"civil war\" between the All Mighty and the Prince of Darkness.\n\nAnd the Undertaker? Turns out, It has been creating its own army, in secret. For every 100 souls It recovers and sends to the Judgment Hall, keeps one for Itself. The rules are tricky, cannot be a really bad person or someone in Hell takes notice, the opposite works for Heaven. It must be someone neutral, someone with equally good deeds and bad deeds. Someone who is under the radar, like me. \n\nIt also helps if it was someone assassinated since people that gets killed by \"accident\" are actually called \"early\" by either God or Satan to fill a specific purpose on their ranks. They are at war and the souls are needed by the minute. In a way, natural disasters happen because one of them want to. Death was sick of this game and figured that It makes sense to have a small army of Its own, to be prepared when shit hits the fan.\n\nAnd I was his servant, his assassin. On any given minute, Death would appear, point to a man, woman, child and I would go for the kill. There were drawbacks, of course. I had to be very careful since an assassination draws lots of attention from God and Satan. For every death, I had to do a good deed to put some balance on my soul. I had to be as neutral as possible.\n\nThis month I have been working for UNICEF and today I just murdered a nobody. It gets increasingly difficult to do more good, but hey, if Mother Theresa worked for the Grim Reaper I could become the next Saint too.", "When Madeleine pictured the personification of death itself, this was not exactly what she had in mind.\n\n“I’m sorry, could you-? I didn’t catch that.” She blushed. “Could you repeat it, please?”\n\nDeath sighed. Madeleine made an admirable effort to keep her eyes on his face. “I’m set to collect your soul in a week. I’m willing to postpone this, provided you perform a few favors.”\n\nFavors. Surely he didn’t mean-? Not that Madeleine would particularly mind doing those sorts of favors--the guy was gorgeous, blonde hair and clear blue eyes, dressed in nothing but swim trunks--but whoring herself out to the Grim Reaper didn’t really sound like the way to earn herself a ticket to heaven.\n\n“What, um. What sort of favors, exactly?”\n\n“I’m in dire need of a vacation,” Death explained. “Collecting souls isn’t terribly difficult, but if someone doesn’t do it, the Big Guy’s gonna lose his shit. And guess who gets clean things up after one of his tantrums?” He rolled his eyes.\n\n“You…” Madeleine shifted her weight, holding her arms around herself protectively. “You want me to collect souls for you?”\n\n“It’s easy,” he insists, waving a hand. “Most deaths are from stuff like heart disease. There’ll be some blood and gore, but you watch Game of Thrones, so you’ll be fine.”\n\nMadeleine pursed her lips. “And if I don’t agree to this, I’ll die in a week?”\n\n“Yeah. That’s not a threat, by the way. It’s determined by Fate. She’s kind of a bitch, but-” He shrugged as if to say, What can you do?\n\n“How am I going to die?” Madeleine pressed.\n\n“I don’t know that. I just bag ‘em and tag ‘em.”\n\n“So it’s not… hard? Like, I could learn to do it pretty easy?”\n\n“Definitely. I can show you everything you need to know,” Death offered.\n\n“And how long would I have to do this for?” She squeezed her arms tighter. “How much time would it buy me?”\n\nDeath hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I was thinking I’d take a month. You’d have that, and then I could tack on a couple more. Three total.”\n\n“But I thought you didn’t control when I die,” said Madeleine dubiously.\n\n“I don’t. But I do have some sway over Fate. It won’t be easy, but like I said”--he grimaced--“I really need a vacation.”\n\nMadeleine chewed on her lower lip. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, even though she wasn’t cold. Death regarded her with weary impatience.\n\n“Okay,” she agreed at last. “Three months.”\n\n“Excellent.” Death grinned, showing his perfect white teeth. “Let’s go collect a stroke victim. Then I’m off to Malibu.”", "I cocked my head at him. \nIs this really death? Like, I don't know, I might have been expecting some Billy and Mandy shit, but he don't look like he fucks with the fuckarounds, I thought.\n\n\"Yeah, no thanks on the offer,\" I said. \"Let me go find a religion.\"\n\n\"A religion, you say?\" said he.\n\n\"You know I'm an angel, right? Here's another deal. You do me some favors, I'll make sure you go to heaven.\" \n\nI pondered this for a bit.\n\n\"Sure, why the hell not?\" I said. I'm good being Death's handyman.\n\n\"Okay, you're going to be my accountant.\"\n\n\"You know what, hell seems alright, see you in a week.\"\n" ]	3
	[WP] You are an English major sitting with a friend in the engineering building of your college campus. Suddenly, alarm klaxons blare, and a synthetic voice speaks over the PA: "Automated defense system active. All non-authorized personnel will be eliminated"	[ "I flipped the prompt a bit - hope you enjoy :p\n\n---\n\nThe first thing we smelt was burnt electricity.\n\n\"Do you smell that?\" my friend asked.\n\nI sniffed the air a bit. \"Yeah,\" I replied. \"Best pack up - it'll be the damn electrical engineers at work again.\" But before he could reach for my textbook the alarms went off.\n\nAll of us looked at each other. As one we seemed to let out a sigh of impatience. Looks like we couldn't hang out here anymore. I thought this had to be pretty big. If I could smell it all the way from Mech and Aero, I thought - the sparkies must have fucked up real bad. \n\n\"This isn't a drill, is it?\" my friend yelled over the alarm.\n\n\"We had one last week. Time to go,\" I roared back.\n\nThere were maybe about fifty people in a room that could hold two hundred. Within the first two minutes we had all filed out in a calm - but decidedly not orderly manner.\n\nWhen we stepped outside the alarms only became louder. Hopelessly, I put one hand over my right ear. The klaxons seemed to go on and on - crash and crash - and it was all I could do to prevent myself from shouting out against the alarms. Eventually, I felt a tug on my shoulder, and my friend’s shouted voice in my ear.\n\n\"You know where you're going, right?\"\n\nI looked at my English major friend, who by now had a face the colour of paper.\n\n\"Don't worry,\" I smiled back. \"I know this place well enough.\"\n\nBut I followed the crowd. First floor, suspended walkway, left at the wind tunnel, then downstairs to the ground floor, where the FSAE racecars were parked, then past them, past the UAV workshop. The walls never seemed less clean than before - the whole place gave off an industrial feel at the best of times - and I was starting to feel a bit dizzy as the evacuating crowd grew and grew. \n\nAnd then I joined them in stopping dead.\n\nAll the exits had been barred. The electronic clock lit up the darkened hallway. In the tension the red of the LED display looked blood-like.\n\n“What-”\n\nThe clock was not showing the correct time. It appeared to be counting down, to some time an hour hence.\n\nThen suddenly the alarm spoke again.\n\n“Test protocol initiated,” it spoke. “Automated defense system activated. All non-authorised personnel will be eliminated.”\n\nOh shit, I thought. That would just about explain it.\n\n“What did...what did that mean?” my friend asked.\n\nWithout a second though I started dragging him away from the exit. I felt the CCTV on the both of us as I moved.\n\n“It means, English major,” I whispered, “that your ass is going to be cooked bacon unless we find a way out NOW!”\n\nI had seen the green laser out of the corner of my eye. Through the plastic white bulb of the CCTV, it fired - a bolt of coherent radiation, and I shoved my friend out of the way -\n\nThe laser left no sound, but I smelt the burnt concrete not two feet away. I dragged my friend back to his feet - his breathing still ragged and harsh - and I saw the fear in my eyes reflected. I had defended the English major - I was an acceptable target now.\n\n“Run!” I shouted, and I took off.\n\n---\n\nSubscribe to r/KCcracker for more stories of the sort!" ]	1
	[WP] You are put on trial, but it appears neither the lawyers not the judge know what they're doing.	[ "\"Mr. Honor, this client should be dismissed of all charges on the grounds that he didn't break the law.\"\n\n\"Christ\" I thought to myself. \"This is going to be a shit show.\"\n\nThe judge was passive and stone faced. The large black robe concealing a pudgy frame - leaving his over-sized, bald head to be framed and awkwardly highlighted. He looked comfortable in his chair. I wish things were as comfortable for me.\n\nThe judge made a slight motion that my lawyer took as an indication to proceed with the opening statement. Glancing over at the expressionless jury, my lawyer opened with his defense.\n\n\"I've never seen my client steal anything in my life. I have many years of being a lawyer, and I asked him a bunch of times whether or not he stole something from (he points to the prosecution) the good guy. He told me that I'm supposed to keep this next thing a secret, but I think it's important for the jury to know that I'm telling the truth when I share this secret I'm about to tell you.\"\n\nThe jury watched, surprisingly involved in this situation they'd been appointed to examine.\n\n\"The truth is that Mr. Spence...\"\n\n\"Something closer to formality, thank god\" I thought.\n\n\"...had tons of witnesses. His crime isn't murder, so he shouldn't be charged with that. I think the only thing you should maybe think he did wrong was steal something. And you can trust me, he didn't do that either.\"\n\nSure, I'd chosen to go with court-appointed representation. But this guy sounded like he hadn't even taken the time to watch a whole episode of Law and Order. I seriously considered setting him down and taking over my own defense in order to at least stall this train wreck currently taking place in front of me. I tried to ignore my building anger and distracted myself by looking across the aisle at the prosecution, hoping to see some sort of confusion equal to mine. \n\nThe prosecutor was a youthful professional, trying his best to fit into a suit that fit him so tightly it looked like he'd borrowed it from a Ken doll. If he thought this was funny, his poker face showed no sign. He must have been considering the jury's presence, because he managed to keep any sign of satisfaction from appearing on his face. Obviously, this guy had only recently acquired any type of permission to practice law, but he seemed itching to prove his worth.\n\nHis client had a bit more of an authoritative look to him. A well-tailored black suit. Strong jawline. An emphasis on bold colors. The yellowish hue clearly visible on his wrist (with matching cuff links) tied in well with the same bold color standing out against the black suit. Wealthy, authoritative, and invested in the bank's continued success... I'd obviously seen him before.\n\nWhy would this amateur be representing a man who seemed influential enough to pay for a team of highly trained professionals?\n\nMy council pointed towards the duo across the aisle.\n\n\"These guys are going to say that they're the good guys and that my client broke into the bank to steal the money. But, when Mister Honor and the jury watch the video, you will see that you can't see his face.\" \n\nWhat the fucking fuck.\n\nI swear, the judge stifled a laugh, working it into a cough soon enough that my lawyer overlooked the lapse in professionalism. \n\nThis little shit is supposed to be defending me? He's supposed to make sure that the law is adequately examined and that my rights are upheld - regardless of the truth. I mean, fuck, sure I stole from the bank. But, as I told my lawyer - \"I don't remember it. Just give me an idea of what I need to say on the stand.\" \n\nBut, it seemed obvious that the advice he'd given me in preparation wouldn't even matter at this point.\n\n\"In conclusion, we have a good case and I expect Mr. Spence to not serve 20 years in jail.\"\n\nI swear, it's like my lawyer's a 7 year old.\n\n", "Trevor walked the sidewalk at a steady, urgent pace. The plastic grocery bags under his hands crinkled with rhythm of his march, and made him feel slow and cumbersome. He turned the corner to his apartment building. Three figures in dark clothes looked up at him, then at each other.\n\n\"Yeah, sure, him,\" one of them said.\n\n\"Oh brother,\" Trevor whispered.\n\nThe nearest man trotted towards Trevor, who was frantically thinking about a way to get past the men and into his building, but before Trevor did anything, the man grabbed his shoulder. Trevor just then notice the man did not have a face, nor much in the way of skin. Instead the man looked like a being of solid glass with air bubbles trapped inside. Two bubbles, where the man's eyes would have been, began to glow a bright blue.\n\nAnd then Trevor and his grocery bags were gone.\n\n\\**\n\n\"Okay,\" the judge said, shuffling some papers. \"Will the defendant of Case 241-A please stand?\"\n\nTrevor, in a daze, stared at the judge's horns -- twirling horns like that of a ram, but bright, hot pink. The lawyer sitting next to Trevor elbowed him. It was the glass man from the sidewalk.\n\n\"Stand up,\" glassman whispered. \"Stand up and state your name or something.\"\n\nTrevor stood. The courtroom had dull, 1980s wood paneling on the walls and water-stained ceiling tiles overhead. An A/C unit hummed through the vents, and a dozen or so people sat in the courtroom audience. They all watched Trevor intently.\n\n\"I'm -- I'm Trevor Bingham from Schaumburg.\"\n\n\"That's good enough,\" the lawyer said, and tugged Trevor into his seat. The lawyer now wore a neatly-fitting black three-piece suit with a tan tie that matched well with his blue, smooth body.\n\n\"Now, will, uh--\" The judge pointed at the other lawyer in the lawyer in the room, a human-looking female with yellow eyes.\n\n\"The prosecution,\" she said.\n\n\"Yes, the prosecution. Will now state the case? The charges against Mr. Brigham.\"\n\n\"Bingham,\" Trevor corrected him.\n\n\"It doesn't matter,\" glassman whispered.\n\n\"Mr. Bingham,\" the female lawyer started, then hesitated, \"is accused, hereby, of -- of murder most foul!\"\n\nSeveral people in the courtroom gasped.\n\n\"I didn't do anything!\" Trevor whispered to glassman.\n\n\"Shush! Let her finish!\" the bailiff yelled at Trevor and the audience.\n\nTrevor noticed even the judge staring at the bailiff. Standing about seven feet tall, the officer had several unique, in-human weapons dangling from his belt -- including what look like a live scorpion-type gun that wriggled every few moments and appeared to be breathing.\n\nThe bailiff himself had tan, almost red skin, and pale, white eyes that he hid under the bill of his cap.\n\n\"The defendant is also accused of,\" the prosecutor turned to look at Trevor, as though trying to guess what a person who looked like that might do. \"He also sold contraband while traveling in the Milky Way Galaxy!\"\n\nThe crowd murmured, but silenced quickly as the bailiff scanned the room.\n\n\"And what do you plead?\" the judge asked.\n\n\"We plead the least guilty possible!\" glassman said. \"We plead innocent!\"\n\nThe crowd gasped, and Trevor expected the bailiff to shush them again, but instead he was smiling at the defense.\n\n\"Take the stand,\" glassman whispered.\n\n\"Do what?\" Trevor asked.\n\n\"Take the stand. We'll interview you like in court shows.\"\n\nThe glassman pushed Trevor out of his seat, and the judge said, \"Oh, yes, perfect! Trevor should go to the witness stand!\"\n\nHe crossed the room and noticed the contents of his grocery bags laid out on the evidence table with number markers scattered between the various items. Trevor sat, and the prosecutor jumped from her seat and yelled, \"Where were you earlier this evening?!\"\n\n\"I was shopping for groceries and grabbing a movie!\"\n\n\"What were you shopping for?\"\n\n\"My girlfriend was coming over after work,\" Trevor said, shifting nervously in his chair.\n\n\"Let the record show the defendant's cell phone show no recent contact today -- no texts or calls received or sent. When did you make these plans with your girlfriend? Perhaps while you were murdering her?\"\n\n\"Objection!\" glassman yelled. \"That's a bad question!\"\n\n\"He's right,\" said the judge. \"I'm over-ruling the prosecutor on this one.\"\n\n\"Okay, what did you buy from the store?\"\n\n\"Just some food and a movie. Eggs, milk, cucumbers, popcorn. I got that new superhero movie.\"\n\nThe prosecutor lifted a RedBox case above her head triumphantly as said, \"Let the record show the movie was Maid in Manhatten.\"\n\nThe crowd gasped and the bailiff laughed aloud.\n\n\"When was the last time you saw your girlfriend, Mr. Birmingham?\"\n\n\"Erm, I don't know. Well, maybe yesterday?\"\n\n\"Is that when you made plans to watch this movie? Or was it plans to watch a superhero movie, but you couldn't take another superhero movie so you killed her instead?!\"\n\n\"Objection!\" glassman yelled.\n\nBefore the judge could respond, though, the prosecutor said, \"No further questions and returned to her seat.\n\n\"Ohhhhh,\" the bailiff said, obviously impressed.\n\nGlassman stood and sauntered towards the stand, fiddling with his tie.\n\n\"Tell me Mr. Trevor, what is your girlfriend's job? What does she do?\"\n\n\"She's an event planner. Like weddings and stuff.\"\n\n\"And how long have you two known each other?\"\n\nGlassman leaned into Trevor's face, consuming almost his entire view of the room. Trevor swallowed and leaned back.\n\n\"How long, Mr. Trevor?\" glassman asked.\n\n\"Answer the question,\" the bailiff, standing to Trevor's left, said.\n\nTrevor coughed, and opened his mouth to speak, but glassman said: \"She's not real is she? You made her up, didn't you? Just like you pretended to not be binge watching Jennifer Lopez movies for your Bad Movie Club. You're lying, Mr. Trevor. Tell us the truth. Tell us you don't have a girlfriend and that you are the only member of your pathetic Bad Movie Club. Go ahead, Mr. Trevor. Tell us* what we already know.\"\n\n\"I -- I --\" Trevor looked from glassman to the bailiff, who now also leaned into the witness stand. The bailiff's eyes glowed a blinding white light.\n\nTrevor noticed the prosecutor had now joined them, but before he could say anything, the prosecutor grabbed a weapon from the bailiffs belt and fired a deafening blast of purple light at the bailiff. The officer screamed and turned to ash, his weapons falling to the floor in a scattered mess of purple smoke.\n\n\"Oh thank god!\" the judge yelled. \"You did it!\"\n\nThe courtroom faded away. The wood-paneled walls morphed into the metal hull of an alien spaceship. The audience in the courtroom cheered and sang and hugged each other. All that remained from the room that existed moments earlier were the judge's stand and the witness stand. Glassman lifted Trevor from his sit and pointed at the bailiff's ashes.\n\n\"I take by your response you did not recognize Lord Gullther the Blood-Drinker. He was an awful being, and -- much to our favor today, it would seem -- an American courtroom drama junkie. He has been kidnapping humans and turglogs and graphists and even mords like me for years, making them act out -- ad lib, mind you -- court room dramas. Your predecessor tried to run screaming from the court. Fortunately, you acted like a frozen space corpse -- what luck!\"\n\nThe crowd of aliens lifted a cheer. The spaceship's hatch began to open and Trevor could see the roof of his apartment below.\n\nThe prosecutor handed Trevor his groceries, the contents neatly put back inside. He took the bags as she reached into her pocket and handed him a RedBox case.\n\n\"And sorry about all that,\" she said and slipped the disc into one of the bags.\n\nTrevor stepped out of the spaceship and the aliens waved goodbye and wished him well. He walked down to the third floor and, his hands still shaking, unlocked the door and stepped inside. He pulled out the Avengers disc, handed it to his girlfriend, and said, \"Wanna start a movie club? I have an idea for one.\"" ]	2
	[WP] You go on a late night beer run only to get trapped in the store by a very angry Sasquatch.	[ "\nI stepped out of the crib, slamming the door as I left. I was tired of drinking, but it was my turn to head to the store and grab some smokes and beer for the guys. Every night between nine o’clock and midnight we would hang out and unwind with some brews. It was our way of escaping from our daily “lives”. Or at least that is what everyone felt. Despite being surrounded by a group of funny and caring friends, I still felt empty, incomplete and filling the void with alcohol. However, it wasn’t time to worry about my life’s choices, it was our time to party. In my half drunken stupor, I managed to make it down the driveway and onto the sidewalk. The liquor store wasn’t too far from my house, but every beer I drink seems to make it another kilometer further away. See, that is the problem with drinking. It distances you from the truth, from reality. All of your problems are a mile away when you drink, instead of them nipping right at your heels. That is why I started in the first place. It is funny how you think you have a grasp on something, just for it to flip right around and have a grasp on you. I always felt like I was on top of it, but every day seems like another step down the pathway to alcoholism. “But I’m young! I can do anything.” I realize now how naive one can be to the truth. I feel two faced, constantly competing inside of my head. I thought my consciousness could fight off the recurring demons, but every time I wake up with a bottle in my hand and my pants around my ankles, I can’t help but feel defeated. I shook my head. I have a bad habit of letting negative thoughts in without realizing it. Or maybe that is just reality, calling at me from a distance, outside of this cloudy haze. Anyways, I am out here for one reason. I can’t believe I forgot that it was my night to do the run. The liquor store was open late, which may have been good for business, but they obviously don’t know how hard it is to find the place at night. I can’t count the amount of stories I have heard about creepy drunk adventures to this place, which usually end in the drunk tank or in a pool of vomit. It was about ten thirty at night, and I could finally see the purple hue of the old, flickering neon sign out front. I still couldn’t understand why they chose a lot on the edge of a forest, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. The owners must have just settled on what they could afford. Kind of like me when it comes to what I drink. I could pay five extra bucks for non-distinguishable flavour, or just go for the bargain brand. I was still deciding on what to buy as i reached for the dull, scratched up metal door handle, which was loosely bolted to the dirty glass door. It was no surprise when I saw that the place was empty, but I was slightly alarmed when i saw a broken bottle of Heineken on the counter, which had spilled its lukewarm bubbly contents onto the black and white checkered tile floor. I brushed it aside, and looked around for management, before realizing I was probably hammered enough to get thrown out of the store. I waddled down the aisles of the store, repeatedly checking prices on the same items over and over. I was picky, and cheap. Sort of a bad combination when it comes to anything, really. I finally picked out two cases of Bud Light, and stumbled towards the counter. I noticed that it was extremely cold inside of the store, despite me wearing my blue and grey plaid smoker’s jacket and dark grey sweatpants. The store wasn’t notorious for its cold beer, so it puzzled me to think about the bone-chilling breeze that drifted through the old, seemingly lifeless store. As I exited the aisle I fell towards the counter, sticking my arm out to catch my fall. As I slipped on the spilled beverage, my hand landed onto a shard of green glass from the broken bottle, slicing open my index finger. “Damnit!” I winced, clutching my injured digit in my other hand, while propping myself up off of the floor with the Bud Light twelve-packs. Maybe it was the inebriation or adrenaline, but my finger didn’t ache after I initially cut it. I stumbled to my feet, clutching the glass covered counter with one hand, trying to find somewhere to pull myself to my feet from. I used the sleeve of my dirty, plaid felt jacket to brush the sticky, sharp mess onto the floor, before lugging the two grey cardboard cases onto the counter. I took another look around, to see if anyone had heard or seen my pathetic incident. Still nothing. I glanced down at my watch, before remembering I had broken it the night before trying to play drunken floor hockey. What a great reminder of my drunken self. “As long as I have this broken hunk of metal, I will never forget the second I got so piss drunk that I passed out in front of everyone.” I smirked, before unclipping the hunk of stainless steel and tossing it over my shoulder. I had been in the deteriorating shop for about five minutes now, and I still hadn’t seen any staff. I was beginning to feel tired, but I was too ignorant to let it stop me from partying. I walked around the inner perimeter of the store before looping back around to the counter. I noticed a silver bell tucked behind the lip of the two-tiered counter, so I reached over and grabbed it. I twirled it around in my hands, admiring the pattern that had been stamped into the metal. I placed it down in the center of the counter, paused, and then pressed the button on its top. “DING!” the sound rung out throughout the store, before dying down with each echo. I pulled off my baseball cap and set it on the counter, sighing. At first it sounded distant, a rushed sounding grunting noise. But each second it seemed to creep closer. I kept my gaze locked at the doorway beside the cashier’s counter, waiting for someone to appear. I pulled out my wallet to look for a fifty, our groups’ accumulated booze money. As I stood there, leaning against a grey pole in front of the counter flipping through my wallet, I noticed a dark figure out of the corner of my eye. I don’t know what it was, but something about this guy seemed…different. I wasn’t met with a welcoming presence, but rather, an off-putting one. Maybe this sudden change in atmosphere is what made me glance up at him. Or it. Never have I ever felt such fear in my whole hazy life. What stood before me wasn’t real! Or was it? How could this be? I had too many questions, and not enough time. It moved swiftly, as it approached me. A dark figure, with very few distinguishable features, was hidden under a blanket of matted brownish-black hair. I shook my head and closed my eyes, but when I opened them, it wasn’t gone. It was even closer. I started to step cautiously backward, which was made difficult by my clouded judgement and vision. I didn’t make it more than five steps back before I tripped on a flimsy steel rack and fell to the floor. It stood over me. I could barely help myself from gagging at the aroma that permeated throughout the store. Despite where I looked, his eyes never once glanced at anything but me. It peered into my eyes, and I gazed back. I sensed a lack of emotion and empathy from this being. In a way I sensed a piece of myself in this creature. I scrambled to put two and two together, before coming up with the only logical conclusion. Bigfoot. There was nothing to describe what this beast could have been without dipping into the pool of supernatural. It must have been about eight or nine feet tall, but from the floor, this thing looked like a mountain covered in greasy, slimy hair. I tried to pull my drunken self to my feet, but I slipped on a bag of Doritos and fell back to the floor. The bag burst open, throwing Doritos into the air. The beast jumped a few feet backwards, before letting out a menacing moan. Blood dripped from its chin, and splattered against the cold checkered floor. I didn’t need a sign to tell me that the cashier wasn’t coming back. I climbed to my feet and bolted towards the counter. “I’ve come too far to forget these!” I yelled as I grabbed the cases of beer off of the counter of the store. I heard a crash and saw a shadow quickly approaching behind me, so I ran through the door. Through. Plate glass doors are a good idea until you go head-first through one. I let out a groan as I picked myself up off of the blood soaked pavement that was littered in sharp shards of glass, and began to run with my now stolen merchandise. I figure if there is ever a set of circumstances in which one can get away with some free stuff, this definitely qualified. I am a pretty tall guy, but this thing could run like a horse. It was only fifty yards behind me, and it was quickly approaching. I saw a lonely Ford F-150 in the distance along the side of the dark, lifeless street and sprinted towards it. This wasn’t my first rodeo, so picking the lock wasn’t too difficult, given the circumstances. I jumped in and slammed the door, making sure to throw some seatbelts over each case of Bud Light. I started working on the dash of the truck, first pulling out some of the furnishing to reveal the ignition system. With a few snips and a twist of a wire, the machine roared to life. I jammed in the clutch and threw it into first. I slammed into a parked Pontiac Sunfire, before speeding off. I took a look in my rear view mirror, to see the Bigfoot come running to a stop, before ducking into the bushes. I let out a shout of accomplishment, and reached into a case of beer and grabbed a can. I popped it open and took a few stops before pulling over to the side of the dark road. I took my last sip and let out a belch, before crushing the can and tossing it out of the window. Suddenly, I heard the blaring of sirens. I was greeted by the oh so familiar sight of flashing lights behind me. ", "######[](#dropcap)\n\nMy headlamp was flickering again, batteries failing to hold the charge they'd been not even weeks before. As I plucked them out one by one, throwing them to rest on the port to take the place of their restocked bretheren, I ignored the constant buzz of far-off tones in my ear.\n\nIt was probably Tinnitus, and I was probably trying not to think about it.\n\nThis late at night, it's difficult to think of much of anything.\n\nI've always hated that, hated the burn-out. The dust-head, the Brain-fry. That moment when you reach your own unseen limitations and there are literal voices in your head screaming at you like that catchy portion of a song by Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats. After that point of no return, the options limit themselves rather quickly between passing out and accepting fate, or finding if there's still a keg on tap somewhere.\n\nIt's in that state of mind that I get to asking myself those more important questions. \n\nWould I ever get home? Would I ever manage to sleep in my own bed again? See my parents, or the cat I'd been periodically feeding leftovers outside of my apartment? Would I ever get to listen to that catchy song humming in my head in actuality- or would I be stuck with the six mostly classic-rock oriented discs in the Hyundai's horribly outdated stereo-system?\n\nLast but not least: Was there still a mug of ale to be had in the tavern, or was I hopelessly out of my depth and doomed to a sober existence?\n\nThis final, at the very least I might be capable of retrieving answers. As I rose, the persistent ringing in my ear settled beneath the soft groan of plywood and linoleum flooring, mixing with the soft snores of the trailer's other occupant.\n\nMy trusted companion had settled into a fittingly dignified drunken slumber not three paces to my right, once again taking preference of my personal cot and mattress to the perfectly acceptable hay-bales which surrounded the trailer. The occurrence of that particular habit was becoming more frequent than I preferred, and raised many questions on our strange but functioning relationship of necessity that I'd not been willing to directly address up unto the current point.\n\nShe also snored, which was rather un-elflike considering her presumed heritage.\n\nThe trailer door shut quietly behind me, clicking in place and sealing by the keys twirling on hand towards my jacket pocket. Rifle slung carefully over my shoulder, the air frosted with my breath to settle like clouds of smoke, trailing in my wake. As I made way towards the 'Oar and Swindler considering the oddity of choice behind the specific naming convention, the familiar taste on the air seemed to sway with the pulsing flow of fae.\n\n\"The Gift\" Nan had called it. As more time passed, more of those strange specters seemed to cross along my vision, following or watching me from afar. Their odd shapes rarely possessed form easily described, but their presence was noted- glowing and colorful things that swept along on currents of air like invisible leaves on the wind. Each day spent in this world seemed to increase the strangeness of it. \n\nPerhaps it was the slow mold I was filling, my person fitting into the plane of this existence atom by atom, molecule by molecule. Or maybe it was a matter of the soul? Late at night, when my mind was worn to exhaustion, these were the questions that might come at times.\n\nThe ones without answers.\n\nIn the hour of the highest moon, this late at night it seemed nothing was awake or aglow but the town Guard and their most inebriated of protected citizens. The Regions of Doterra's Church of light seemed to have a sore habit of alcohol consumption, much more than my expectations even after many passing conversations with Dwarven merchants on their wares and trade. Among other things to consider, I was far beyond my depth in the growing need to keep my vehicle running without parts, trained mechanics- and most importantly: Fuel.\n\nIn theory, that last topic might be solved with some creativity.\n\nThe thick wooden doors of the 'Oar and Swindler opened without much force, groaning in a careful creak of passive resistance as the glow of mana infused glass shown dully through the night. Even at this late hour, it seemed not to late for a stop. It was these times I often enjoyed the conversations at the slick wooden bar, Bruce often providing unique insight I'd past over in the haste of those hours prior to the setting sun.\n\nHe was an interesting man for certain, once an adventurer- now a more stationary soul after a wound from a well places- or as he might have it unlucky broad-head took him through the cartilage of he left knee. I could only imagine several of the City Guard might claim the same fate.\n\nStill, on this particular dark and chilly night, Bruce the Tavern Keeper was nowhere to be found, and neither were the others of the late night crew. No old and Scarred battle-mages mulling over glasses of whiskey or Dwarven stock, no hefty warriors hunched atop endless empty flasks of wooden make. Only as the door fell to close behind me, heavy wooden sheets held in frame by thick iron, did I realize my grave error.\n\nFor a warrior's constitution, I won't make a claim. My life was far from sedentary in its existence, but neither was it that of a soldier- perhaps it was simple luck and instinct alone that allowed my head and shoulders to duck beneath the furious blow that crashed along whatever imagined after-image was there as I sprawled along my belly in a panicked crawl towards the Tavern bar. As another fell, it was long the thick and scarred arms of Bruce which dragged me quick enough to avoid a most certain and terrible demise.\n\nAs the sounds of wood crunching, chairs flying, landing, and shattering, I opened my eyes to a sorry sight.\n\n\"Glad yer still with the living Jake.\" The massive man spoke quietly, hunched in tight with his thick apron all but shredded and bloodied. Beyond the bar, impacts and guttural growls sounded with unpleasant consistency. \"But you've now gone and jumped into it, haven't ye?\"\n\nAs my composure rightened itself, I could see several others appeared to be residing behind the cover of the Tavern bar. A grizzled warrior I'd known only by the name of Raq lay still- chest barely rising, gigantic battle axe resting solemn beside him. Farther down, a spry old wizard who went by the title Eldrick the Aged was in similar shape, broken staff crossed over his knees with an expression that might sour grapes into wine.\n\nOverhead, a stool smashed against the wall, falling between the sorry lot in pieces.\n\n\"What the fu-\"\n\n\"Sasquatch.\" The wizard cut me off with an irritated tone before I could so much as form my question. \"Bastard probably came down from the mountains, got his hands on one of the Kegs.\"\n\n\"Mean drunks, Sasquatches.\" Bruce growled, eyeing the broken stool. \"Not the kind of patron I take in kindly.\" A heavy glance fell to Raq's unfortunate state, and I had to question what type of monster could so effectively level a man capable of swinging a battle-axe the size of a tree. \"Never met a friendly example in all my seasons, truth be told.\"\n\n\"The dwarves rile them up time to time.\" Eldrick the Aged spit out what I could only presume in the dim lighting was bloody phlegm- maybe a tooth. \"It might have raided one of their caravans before it got to us, considering the state its in.\"\n\n\"GRAAAAAAAWWWWWWUUUUUUUUU-\" Another stool smashed overhead, this time quickly followed by a table, and then a full set of chairs.\n\n\"Gods damn it, but the time it thinks to wander out, half the Tavern will be scrap for the hearth.\" Bruce growled, muscles tense as his hand reached for Raq's battle axe.\n\n\"Don't be a fool.\" Half of a staff smacked his fingers as the Wizard hissed in an angry tone. \"You're past your prime by twenty seasons now, and it's already proven worse than most. Not worth the price, you ask any sane man.\"\n\n\"Hefty bounty on them this time of year.\" Bruce replied with a hissing growl of his own, fist curling before angry eyes. If my ears could twitch like Sola's, that was just about when they would have.\n\n\"How much?\" I asked, attention falling on me with surprise. It seemed I had quickly been forgotten in the passing discussion.\n\nEldrick the Aged gave me a similar look to that which he'd handed the Tavern-Keeper prior. \"If it can knock aside my magics, I'd naught risk it. It swatted my ice-casts as if they were a child's snowballs, hit my barrier so hard it shattered my cane.\" \n\nHe lifted the wooden staff's pieces with a saddened look touching his face for the briefest of seconds, before being replaced by a the sour grimace once again.\n\n\"How much?\" I asked again, this time turning towards Bruce as I unslung the rifle. His conflicted expression seemed almost leaning towards support of the Old wizard in the corner before finally giving in.\n\n\"Jarl Congrad has them listed for at least eighty silver, last I checked.\"\n\n\"A young pup like you hasn't been alive long enough to gather magics strong enough to deal with this kind of beast.\" Eldrick interrupted, shaking his cane's pieces with rage. \"Just let it be-\"\n\n\n----\n#BANG BANG BANG\n\n\nThump.\n\nAmmo and Tinnitus be damned. I was getting that silver.\n\n----\n\n...\n\nThis Story is a continuation of a bunch of other writing prompts:\n\n[Start here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/51f8ag/wp_youre_such_a_powerful_magician_that_life_is/d7bn3g2)\n\n[Previous](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/59cb67/wp_as_you_were_driving_two_black_cats_cross_the/d98huis/)\n\n[NEXT](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5980xn/ip_the_subway/d98u9im/)\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You've perfectly followed grandma's recipe for your favorite meal, but it just doesn't taste the way it did when grandma made it. What to do?	[ "4 cups of apples, a dash of cinnamon, a tablespoon of salt, etc. After years of arguing with my mom to let me use grandmas handwritten recipe book, I was finally able to begin recreating the best parts of my childhood. Now all I have to do is set the oven to 400 and wait as the smell of pie goes throughout my house, my wife will be happy I’m finally the one cooking for once. As I sit down on my couch I go through the rest of the cookbook to reminisce about all the dinners I had with my grandparents. Penne with meat sauce, shepherd’s pie, love potion, Salisbury steak. Wait, what?! What are some of these recipes?! Peppered goat sacrifice, blood of a lamb stew, demons punch. What was my grandmother? Wait this might be the reason for all those mouse hearts in the pie..... Maybe this answers where grandpa disappeared to." ]	1
	[wp] A mysterious man has approached your tribe granting "100 million dollars for saving electricity"	[ " I shook my head again, this guy can’t be serious. “Okay, say that one more time.”\n\nYou are being granted, a total of one-hundred million dollars for saving electricity, sir.” The messenger said, again. His some-type-of-British-accent seemed really cheap. I’m pretty sure he’s just faking it.\n\n“Oh!” I yelled in euphoria, “This somehow killed someone, right?” \n\n“Well, uh-“ he stuttered. The more I looked at this guy, the more he seemed to look like, clearly, the Devil in a suit. He was wearing a top hat, his redish hair was slicked back, like a charming Devil. It’s like in every story, ever. “Yes, it did. How did you know?” He asked, slightly intrigued. \n\n“For all the reasons I just told you. Oh, I mean, thought-“I sighed “Okay, so, you’re wearing a top hat, you’re hair seems all jet-black and somehow red. It doesn’t LOOK like you’re dying it, it just seems like it would be that way. That’s probably the best way to describe it. You literally look like a charming Devil. Or some sort of sorcerer.” \n\n“WELL-“ he started.\n\n“Wait,” I interrupted, “I also thought you were the Devil because you’re saying something to me that sounds like every story, ever, about being offered a deal with the Devil. Apparently I’m already knee deep in this somehow in my dream form.” \n\n“You’re really starting to take the fun out of this, you know?” He sighed, dropping his stainless-steal minotaur sword-cane. It clattered through my front doorway, nearly shattering my tiled floor. There wasn’t any way it wasn’t a sword cane. \n\nHe pushed me aside with one white gloved hand, hunched over and defeated as he walked into my house. He seems Devil strong from how hard he slammed me into my faded yellow papered wall. He walked past me without blinking. \n\n“So I’m actually right? That means free-will doesn’t exist? Aw, man, that’s lame. That kind of takes all the fun out of it. Damn, I’ve talked a lot of shit to God. Does that mean, I have a destiny, then?” \n\n“Who cares,” he shrugged, dropping the British accent and onto my couch. \n\n“So you’ve got an American accent, AND you’re the Devil?” I closed my door as I walked inside, locking it behind me. I couldn’t afford to get robbed after all this too.\n\n“Ugh,” he raised his neck inhumanly far back as he groaned, his black top hat falling off as he locked eyes with me, “I use whatever accent I want. How the Hell does it matter? I know everything. I have a flawless British accent, by the way. It USUALLY impresses dumb Americans like yourself.” He spat out. \n\n“Why didn't you just read my thoughts earlier and stop me from rambling?\" I paused, \"Aw, hey, come on. What’s wrong, man? You don’t really seem into it anymore.” \n\n“Well, it’s just you and everyone… else in the world, I guess. There isn’t a lot of mystery anymore these days. You’ve figured a lot out. I’ve made a lot of appearances. Rumors get around, sure, there’s a lot of stories but sometimes the truth spreads around. You guys even figured out that I hid dinosaur bones in the Earth to trick the heretics to into believing the Earth isn’t more than ten-thousand years old. I really didn’t think you’d crack that case. Evolution?” \nHis neck popped back into place as he continued to rant facing the TV, “Are you all stupid? How the Hell would that even work?” He shouted, incredulous. \n\n“Man, I’m such an asshole. I made so much fun of Young Earth Creationists.” \n\n“Yeah, I know. Why do you think I’m even here? There used to be so much fun in doing this job,” he sighed, flopping his arms down on the cushions of my couch, spilling a glass of Brandy that had appeared in his hand. “But now, I run into people like you. We both know I’m not going get anything more out of you. It’s not like this God cares about what aliens die. Their God doesn’t really do anything, lately.” He raised his legs off the floor, the entire couch floating then facing me before landing softly again. \n\n“Wait, say that last part, again? Also, thank you, for doing that so gently. You heard how loud the cane was when it dropped on the tile, right?” \n\n“Oh, yeah. I know what you humans go through, that’s why I’m doing this. I’m imperfect.” \n\n“I appreciate that. But, seriously, there’s an alien God?” I asked, surprised as I stood arms crossed in front of the Devil. \n\n“How would I know? I don’t know everything!” He said angrily, “All of this was going to happen regardless of what I wanted to do anyway.” \n\n“There HAS to be a Good and Evil? Or are you talking about never asking to be created?” \n\n“Of course I never asked to be created. No one did. I mean this event, right now, was going to happen regardless of what any of us did in our lifetimes.” He said.\n\n“Yes, what does that mean, exactly? I already know you exist, that’s like half the equation. And extreme fundamentalists are somehow right, so at least I know the right religion to follow, now.” \n\n“Yeah, you really got a full-hand tonight. Hm?” \n\n“Yeah, it’s been pretty strange so far. Well, I don’t know. Nothing I haven’t read before.” \n\n“Oh, really? Where did you Red-, read it?” he stuttered. \n\n“I don’t even remember the date at the moment. What’s going on with drug use according to God, and or, what are your rules, and therefore, what are the opposite of them so I could just know God’s rules.” \n\n“You sure talk a LOT for a human. I don’t know how you haven’t managed to get that promotion you’ve been looking for.” \n\n“Hahaha, very funny, Satan, we both know regardless of what I do, everything \nthat was going to happen to me IS going to happen to me. So why worry? If I was meant to get it, then I’d get it. Wait, what was with that whole destiny thing? I got distracted.” \n\n“THIS was going to happen whether we wanted to or not!” He stood up from the couch, “How many times do I have to repeat it?” \n\n“But why, why is that happening?” \n\n“BECAUSE,” he pointed toward the corner of the ceiling, “THIS KID IS WRITING IT!” \n\n" ]	1
A group of explorers explored a cave and got buried in with the monster.	[WP]A horror story about a monster that can only be hit in places that are exposed to sunlight	[ "When the hole we crawled through caved in, I knew we would never survive. We had been climbing when we saw a hole, about ten feet wide, Randy said something like, \"Hey, a cave! Let's explore it!\" So we did for some reason. I should have said something like, \"Let's avoid the hole in the ground, it doesn't look safe.\" But I didn't, I wanted to enjoy my time with my friends before we all went off to college. I was regreting agreeing to explore the cave.\n\nWe set an anchor on a large rock that jutted out of the ground. Out of the five of us, I went second. Repelling down into the dark hole. With our flashlights and lanterns showed the cave. It was a large cavern and it had narrower tunnels, three of them, leading somewhere else in the cave. It was a thirty foot drop from the hole to the ground. I was six feet from the floor when we fell. \n\nThe rock that we had tied the rope around moved. We could feel it. \"Hurry!\" Jasmine shouted. There was a rumble and what sounded like an explosion. Rock hitting rock could be heard throughout the chamber. Then, we fell. Jasmine was already standing whenever the rest of us fell. I hit the ground hard. I heard my shoulder make a loud POP. I screamed in pain. Then Jarrod landed on me. All the air rushed out of me but in my panic I managed to crawl to my left just as Andrew landed on Jarrod. I pulled on the rope that tied us together and Jarrod and Andrew quickly scanned away when Randy hit the ground. \n\nHis impact was different. He was the furthest up, so he hit the ground the hardest. He gave a sickening thud and his body bounced, about four inches off the floor. \"Shit!\" Andrew yelled. I undid my harness but as soon as I did, the rocks hit Randy. It was first a small pebble, but then the big rock came down. It was the size of a smart car, and must have weighed 1000 pounds. It landed right on Randy.\n\nThere was a sickening SQUISH as the rock flattened Randy. If he somehow survived the impact, he had to be dead now. The cavern was silent for a moment. The first sound was Jasmine. \"Randy!\" She screamed and ran to his body. \n\n\"Oh God...\" I trembled. I felt arms wrap around melt shoulders, Andrew. We all somehow stumbled to Randy's body. The only part of him you could see was his arm, and his blood. Blood leaked from the rock, pooling around his arm. Then, the tears. Jasmine and I began to cry. \n\nIt took us a long time, but we managed to stop the flow of tears. I looked back at Andrew and wrapped my arms around him. Well, I tried to, my right arm sent a sharp, burning pain down my arm. I stifled a scream and pulled back from Andrew. My arm hung at an awkward angle, I felt up and down my arm to check for breaks. It wasn't broken, so it had to be dislocated. \n\n\"Loren, are you okay?\" Andrew asked me. I shook my head and pointed to my arm. Andrew was going to college to be a doctor, so he knew a few things about dislocations. \n\nI murmured something about my arm being dislocated so he walked over to me and grabbed my arm. \n\n\"I'll set it,\" he said, \" one three. One. Two.\" He popped the joint pack in place. I screamed.\n\nI moved my arm, it hurt, but it was a lingering pain. It wouldn't last long. \n\n\"We need to check our supplies, see how we're getting out of here.\" Jarrod said. We quickly looked over our supplies, it wasn't much. We had a climbing axe, some rope, and a lantern. All of our flashlights broke in the fall and even the lantern's glass surrounding the light was broken.\n\n\"Well, at least we're alive.\" Said Andrew. \n\n\"Tell that to Randy.\" Muttered Jasmine. \n\nI picked up the lantern and looked around again. In one of the tunnels was a shadow. The tunnels were about half a football field away so the lantern didn't illuminate that far. Before I could say anything about the shadow, it began to move. Closer. \n\nI squeaked something like, \"Look.\" Andrew turned around and he took a step back. The shadow was no longer moving towards us slowly, it was moving fast. So fast. It was ten feet away from us when it let loose a sound. It was like a scream mixed with a roar. The thing was milky white, it had long, curly horns, and had sharp claws. Jarrod stepped forward as if to protect us, he was a large dude, but this thing was seven feet tall. It's claws ripped his stomach open. In the dim light of the lantern I saw Jarrod's intestines spill out of his guts. He collapsed onto the floor and the thing dug it's claws into Jarrod's back and dragged him away from the light. I heard his screams accompanied by the crunching of bones.\n\nEventually the screams tapered off. But we gripped the climbing axe, waiting for the thing to return. It didn't for a long while. When it did, we thought we were ready. Was slit into different parts. We hoped that it would confuse the thing. It wasn't confused. It tilted it's head like a dog and then let loose another roar scream. It ran straight towards Andrew, with the climbing axe. Andrew swung the climbing axe towards the thing, aimed right at its pale head. The axe went right through it, like it was a shadow. The thing slashed with its claws towards Andrew, he barely managed to dodge the swipe. He swung with the axe again, the it went through the head again, but the hole from cavern's roof shine with sunlight, hitting the creature's arm. When the axe hit the arm, it knocked the arm away, spinning the thing. \n\nAndrew thought he could now hit the creature and swung again. And it passed through the creature again. The creature reared it's head and opened its jaws. It's \"jaws\" were it's face, it split into four sections and bit Andrew's head. It bit right through his neck. The now headless Andrew was being drug to the tunnels.\n\nI screamed. The thing stopped, looked at me, tilted it's head, and screamed. Then it continued carrying away the body.\n\nWe climbed on top of the rock that flattened Randy and felt the warmth of the sun on our faces.\n\nIt came back around noon. This time, I had the climbing axe. It scrambled onto the rock. The sun illuminated is translucent skin. Veins were a greenish color. It towered over us, splitting its face into its four symmetric quarters. I swung the axe and it sank into its leg.\n\n It made no sound, it looked at its leg, blood leaking around the axe, and looked back up at me. It swung it's claws at me. I let go if the axe and rolled to the side, avoiding the claws. Jasmine rushed forward and wrapped her hands around the grip and pulled. Pale flesh hung from its leg as its red blood poured over its white leg. As she retreated with the axe, it struck her back. Blood coated the rock, making it slick. She fell forward as blood spurted from her back, she slid me the axe.\n\nThe creature lunged for Jasmine, not using its right leg and slipped on the blood-slick rock. It crawled towards her then began to rip her apart. She screamed as it used its claws to open her up and began to gorge on her innards. \n\nIt shot its gaze back towards me. It crawled for me but I swung the axe again and again, keeping the thing back. It got tired of my game and it lunged towards me. I didn't have time to swing my axe. Its arm ran me through.\n\nIt felt like a white hot rod going through my sternum. I felt my blood run down its arm. It squealed in delight as it slowly crawled towards me. I slowly lifted the axe and swung it. The point dig into its temple. The impact pushed it aside, ripping the axe from my grip. It's arm was ripped out of my stomach. I felt my blood, my life, flow out of me. \n\nI collapsed onto the blood-slick rock. It hurt so much. But the pain was gradually subsiding. I was dying, I felt it. I began to cry. It wasn't fair. Slowly my crying grew quieter. Until it was completely silent. My mouth opened and closed like a fish. I always hoped that there was an afterlife, but I didn't see anything now, all I saw, was nothing. " ]	1

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