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
If you need inspiration, I recommend trying [a random page on the super power wiki.](http://powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Special:Random)	[WP] Take a seemingly useless super power, and describe a situation where it ended up being extremely useful.	[ "\"You're kidding me,\" John said with a smirk. \"All of the superpowers in the world, and you pick this one?\" \n\n\"I told you, I wished for the power of flight, and the genie found a loophole, okay? It's not like I wanted the power of...\" \n\n\"Hovering,\" John painfully said. \"Hovering six inches above the ground. And you can't even move around. It's just stationary hovering. You should really be more careful next time you find a genie.\" \n\nI groaned. \"John, I'm pretty sure that genies are a once in a lifetime kind of thing.\" \n\nJohn chuckled. \"Well, you never know. Anyway, what was your second wish?\" \n\nI sighed. \"I wished for three more wishes.\" \n\nJohn facepalmed. \"Come on, man! You know that never works!\" \n\n\"I wasn't thinking straight,\" I said regretfully. \"The genie just shot me down, and then he said that it counted as my second wish!\" \n\n\"So that leaves the third wish. I assume it has something to do with our current predicament?\" \n\nI grimaced. \"Um, yeah. I wished for our city to be hotter. It was negative three degrees and I was freezing.\" \n\n\"And so he conjured a volcano and sent lava streams into the city,\" John said. \n\n\"Yeah, pretty much. Although it worked out pretty well. Turns out the lava streams were exactly five inches high.\" \n\nJohn squirmed in my arms. The lava ran below us, just barely missing my toes as I hovered over the red mass. \"I guess that was lucky. It's a shame about all the dead people, though.\" \n\nA charred skeleton floated underneath as he said this. I cringed at the thought of all the trouble this would cause. But soon we had more pressing problems. Both of our stomachs rumbled at the same time. We looked at each other. John said, \"How long are we going to have to hover here?\" \n\n\"About 2 days, give or take. The lava will take time to harden.\" \n\n\"Oh, okay.\" Silence. \"You got a granola bar?\"" ]	1
	[WP] You are a paranormal investigator tracking the mysterious source of 2016's horribleness.	[ "I have, admittedly, taken a lot of odd jobs throughout the years. There was the Cheeto eating ghost, the ghost of a dog which would always beg to go outside, and of course the ghost which had a knack for tripping people. But all those weird jobs pale in comparison with what I have been tasked with investigating: the reason 2016 will forever go down in history as the year the world went belly up.\n\nI was hired by this guy named Gabe. Great guy, really. He owned a software company and was pretty well off. He was liked by a lot of people, but of course he had his enemies. So, he came to me to try and find the answer to answer the question that everyone had been asking. I’m not entirely sure of his motives for wanting to know, and of course pay my rather high fee, but that doesn’t matter too much I guess. I get paid to do the job, not ask questions. \n\nWhile all years are often thought to be the year that “everything changes” at their starts, and by the end are the year where “Satan himself was wondering how anything could be so terrible.” This year however, was even worse than normal. The public were mourning the loss of idols such as Prince, and recently, Carrie Fisher. The election was… eventful. Ebola struck the world. Numerous shootings and terrorist attacks occurred. And of course, the event which sticks in the American public’s mind the most: the tragic death of our savior, Harambe. And to top it all off, the year was whole 1000 milliseconds longer than originally expected. However, for all the bad things which happened, at least there was no shortage of memes during the year.\n\nI began scrolling through online message boards, trying the find the root cause of where everything went wrong. People had a variety of theories, ranging from the mundane, to the downright crazy, such as “The Legend 27 did it” and “The Zodiac Killer killed the god of 2016.” I mean, honestly, some of these people’s ideas were crazy, and I deal with things that many people don’t believe to exist for a living.\nBut all my searching finally did yield something. Not an exact answer, per se, but something. At the start of the year, people had been hopeful of something new coming out, something to occupy their time. Something which Gabe had control over.\n\nI threw on my coat and in a snap I was in his office. Gabe was sitting in his leather chair, he was counting his money when I walked in. “Sir, I think I found the cause of all our problems,” I said, slapping a sheet of paper on his desk. It was a copy of an email which a fan had sent Gabe himself, and then upon receiving no reply, posted on the internet. It was titled “Why Half Life 3 Will Make 2016 The Best Year Ever.”\n\nThe look of shock on Gabe’s face is something I will never forget. The look of realization that he had caused this was one of horror, and shame. \n\nHe immediately turned to his computer, and opened a window. It had the words “Half Life 3” situated next to a button plainly labeled “Upload.” “Damn it!” Gabe cried, slamming his fist into his desk. “I forgot to publish it!”\n" ]	1
	[WP] The forest was broken. There wasn't a single leaf attached to a single tree, a single blade of grass growing. And it was all your fault.	[ "The forest would never be the same.\n\nYears of life, florishing and growing into something new, had been stripped away into nothing. The twisted bark of the trees, brittle and unsaturated, shot up from the ground like long dead twigs pounded into the dusty ground. The air was still, dead like the forest that would never heal again. The musky smell that once welcomed us was reduced to the sting of magic used wrong. I felt my heart leap into my throat again, like the first time I saw our forest break and shatter.\n\nAnd the animals! All that was left of them were bones, pale and cracked and buried halfway into the ground. The squirrels that used to dart around the forest floor, their tiny pads never making a sound as they scurried to bury their food. The ants, even as they tried to steal from our pantry, hardworking and striving to live another winter. We would sneak out at the crack of dawn, holding our michivious giggles to not wake our mother, and sit in the leaves and dirt. We would watch the forest, ever so slightly, come to life.\n\nI never wanted to see this broken place again. The first time was hard enough. Our home, our life, our mother, gone because of one stupid spell! My brother...\n\nHe stood next to me, frozen to the ground. He would never remember the times before he broke it, the soft memories that were associated with the forest. His hazel eyes were wide, his mouth open in shock and guilt written around his face like a book. And seeing the innocent horror in his face, like he was just a bystander instead of the offender, made me wish that he could remember what had happened that night. I wanted him to remember the burning pain that came with reckless spellcasting, the look on our mother's face and she threw every spell she could to stop it, the screams of pain and fear as the world went white.\n\nHe had to know what he did, even if he couldn't remember.\n\nA choked sob tore through the silence. I turned around to see the auburn haired boy trembling. I spoke my thoughts before I could stop myself. \"Do you remember?\"\n\nHe shook his head, a sullen look in his eyes. Tears leaked from his eyes. For a moment, I regretted showing him this. He was better off not knowing, starting again from scratch.\n\nThe old anger flared up inside of me again, and I threw the thought away. He had to know.\n\n\"I... I really did this...\" he breathed, barely a whisper in the vast forest. I nodded dully. He stared at me, then back into the forest. He lowered his gaze. \"I didn't want to believe it-\"\n\n\"Well guess what?\" I snapped at him, \"You did. And because of some willy-nilly pricks, you were able to live guilt-free for five years!\" I waved frantically at the grayed tree trunks. I was so done with his naivety, his denial. I felt the burning power of the devestating spell behind my words, poured out to him so he can feel what happened that night when everything I loved died.\n\n\"What did I have to do while you were off restarting your life, acting like this never happened? Burying the remains of my mother. Our mother! Living in this damned forest and trying to bring it back even if I know that it's gone! Thanks a lot, Ethan, look what your recklessness got me. Look at- at-\"\n\nThe forest, our home, our mother. I could only manage a soft sob. Everything was gone and it was his fault. The angry power in my words had died out and left me shriveled. I wiped away the forming tears, slightly mad at myself for crying.\n\nEthan had flinched away from me. His eyes held the fear and emotion of a deer caught in the headlights: scared yet rooted to the spot. He glanced momentarily at the forest, before looking back at me. My thoughts, zipping through my head a mile a minute, stopped at the sight of him. The Ethan before wouldn't flinch away. He'd remain strong and almost uncaring, trying to act like it wasn't doing a thing to his self image. \n\nHe was acting like me, a coward who couldn't do a thing to help.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" he squeaked. He took a step back. \"I'll go, if ya want...\" \n\n\"Wait.\" \n\nHe froze, then looked up at me. I sighed, turning back to the still, broken forest.\n\n\"Please stay,\" I muttered, \"I don't want to be alone here.\"\n\nThe silence brooded on, then shattered as I heard footsteps from behind me. Ethan stood next to me, sullen and eyebrows slightly furrowed in an attempt to remember something. We faced the forest, as still and broken as the trees around us.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Laws of nature become sentient beings. You can be freed even from death, however the process of being released is like a really bad breakup.	[ "I stared at the person in front of me. I couldn't make out whether It was a he/she. It had white hair and was as pale as every colour in the world. But there was no mistaking It. It was Death. I could feel it through my entire being that this person in front of me was the Lord of All.\n\n>\"Speak\", he whispered.\n>Speak your deepest desire,\nYour secret fears,\nHide nothing from me,\nAnd I shall spare you from Despair\n\nAnd so, I spoke - \n\n>\"Make me immortal, O Death,\nFree me from your bindings,\nI am indebted to you,\nBut I want Life to be my wings\n\n>\"You ask much, you presume much,\nThe trials will turn your mind to mulch,\nAre you prepared to bear so much?\nAre you ready to bear the burden as such?\"\n\nI swallowed and looked ahead. I didn't expect it to be easy. Death is a fickle thing and it wouldn't let me go easily and I knew that. Still, the prospect of eternity was too tantalizing to leave alone. So I replied - \n\n>\"I accept your conditions, O Lord\nA bargain has been struck,\nUntil sundown you have the time,\nDo what you must\"\n\nDeath replied - \n\n>\"And so the deal is sealed,\nWith the Heavens as witness,\nAnd I bestow the Mark upon thee\"\n\nBlinding, searing pain shot through my hands. My skin shone with a mark. The mark looked like an amalgamation of all symbols and no symbols. It symbolized everything and nothing. It showed who Death really was - the beginning and the end.\n\nAnd then I fell down a dark, dark hole and I lost consciousness. \n\n>\"I'm blind\", I thought\n\nThen I looked at my hands and saw that the mark was glowing. The weird thing was that even though the mark glowed, it provided no light. It was as if light emitted was being sucked into the never-ending darkness around.\n\nI lumbered around for what felt like eternity. \n\n>\"Surely, not\", I thought. \"It has been not a few minutes since I struck the bargain.\"\n\nBut it felt like it. It was as if the entire weight of the world was on my shoulders. It felt as if I was in the Time where there was no Time. The end of all things. Despair clawed my heart and tore my soul. I broke down and cried and eventually fell asleep.\n\nThere will be more, people. Was typing this at my lab. Will continue later", "Gravity lives next door. He is a quiet, practical guy, and he gets along with pretty much everyone although he isn't that much of a social butterfly. That's why it's his house that always gets picked out for throwing parties when the Laws of Nature-LoNs, as we call them now. Pronounced as something between lawn and loan-gather. LoNs are like celebrities. Everyone knows them. The LoNs love people too-they generally tend to love the whole world. It seems they love anything that they're related to. Lots of people want to be freed from Death, and maybe Bodily Needs and a little bit of Gravity too, but no one can dare ask it. They're too scared of what kind of reaction they might show when they know we sometimes don't want to be connected.\n\nThey say get along with your neighbors. Well, I'm proud to say I do. I'm good friends with Gravity-we get along, we enjoy each other's prescence. I baked him cookies, he likes it, he shows me some cool tricks controlling Gravity as he will, and I like it. Gravity is pretty lenient, so he doesn't mind letting your hand go-lightening your gravity-if it's for a short while. He would never completely let go, and it's only temporary, but floating is a lot of fun. Friends as we are, I guess it was only a matter of time before he invited me to one of his LoN only parties.\n\nI hear a knock at the door and rush out.\n\n\"Comiiiiiing... Oh, hey! If it isn't good old Grav. What's up?\"\n\n\"I'm having a party tonight, with all the LoNs. Thought I'd ask you.\"\n\n\"Ohhh! I would be glad to go. Thank you for inviting me! Will Reproduction be there?\"\n\nReproduction really is a celebrity, with beauty that can be sexual and purely aesthetic. I've only seen Reproduction on screen, and I wasn't about to pass up the chance. Gravity chuckled a little.\n\n\"Yeah, Reproduction's coming. Well, see you then.\"\n\nYes! I muffled an elated squeal. I couldn't wait!\n\n\n\n\nOh my god. I thought with half giggles and half grim repentance. Just how drunk am I? I muttered as the world made a backflip in front of me. Addiction was a sly boy, though I had to admit he was pretty cute. Oh well, at least I turned down the marijuana.\n\nI walked-staggered-to the table, looking for more alcohol to drench my body in. But I couldn't make it. Death was right there, in all her glory! She was just like what I heard. Fiery red hair, curvaceous body, shining green eyes. She was one attractive lady. I recalled learning that before LoNs took on the human form, Death was perceived as some skeleton, dressed in black and holding a scythe. I couldn't understand how anyone could think that way. Death was full of love. She loved everyone, perhaps to the point where it was too much and she got possessive. But she was vibrant with love and confidence bordering on arrogance. How could anyone think Death would wear black? I took a step towards her, wanting to talk.\n\nI then noticed that Death wasn't just enjoying the party. She was having an argument with Life and Inertia. I hesitated, not wanting to get caught up in a fight. Too late, Death turned towards me with tears in her eyes. She told Life and Inertia, \"Let's ask a human then. Let's ask what they think!\". She then asked with remarkable force, \"Life and Inertia says that I shouldn't exist and no one likes me. They tell me I'm a bother. Aren't they so mean? How could they! I'm a Law, just like they are! Dying is a natural order too, riiiiight?\"\n\nI spewed a bit of meaningless garble before my brain cleared enough to pronounce understandable sentences.\n\n\"Well, uhhh, but it is only natural that people don't want to, ummm, die. I mean, I don't mean that I don't like you! I really like you, you're a very beautiful person, and uh, really nice. But, you know... Some people dread death.\"\n\nUnfortunately, my alcohol ridden brain wasn't clear enough for good judgement. Death pushed me back hard, sending me staggering a few steps back. When I regained balance, I could see Life and Inertia clicking their tongues at Death behind her shoulder. Death, meanwhile, pushed back her tears and pointed her long index finger at me.\n\n\"Fine! If you don't like me, then do whatever you want! I-I don't like you either! I won't ever take you!\"\n\nThen she left, stomping up a storm as she walked away. My fuzzy brain couldn't quite comprehend what just happened, and just barely reached some kind of conclusion.\n\nI was now an immortal scumbag." ]	2
	[WP] You saw the scars on your best friend's wrist, but you don't know what to do.	[ "Isaac and Lauren sat on a green hill, watching the moon rise. It was a beautiful summer night, clear and warm. But even though it was warm, Lauren was wearing a long-sleeved shirt. She had been wearing long sleeves a lot lately. Ever since she found out about her mom's diagnosis. \n\nIsaac had his suspicions about why. Lauren had told him before about how sometimes she felt like the anxiety and fear built up inside her like air in a balloon. The pressure increased bit by bit until she felt like she was ready to burst. Lauren said pain seemed to help. She said she tried wringing her wrists as hard as she could, giving her self snakebites, and it helped to relieve the pressure, but not for long. She tried scratching at her thighs, too, and that also helped, but only temporarily.\n\n\"Just don't escalate to anything crazy,\" Isaac had said. She had nodded, looking away. \n\nBut now this was too much. Only long sleeved shirts for two weeks. He needed to ask her.\n\n\"Hey Lauren?\" said Isaac.\n\n\"Yeah?\" said Lauren, looking at him. She was smiling through the pain.\n\n\"How's uh...\" Isaac paused. She looked happy. Maybe he should just drop it. No, she was his friend. He continued. \"How's things with your mom and all that?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said Lauren. Her smile faded and she broke eye contact, looking down at the cool dark grass. \"I don't know. Not good.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" he said. \"I'll bet.\"\n\nThere was a whirring sound in the distance, getting closer. A shadow on a bicycle whizzed around the bottom of the hill and followed the path out of sight. \n\n\"Are they still going to let her come see the play?\" he asked.\n\n\"I don't think...\" she was choking up. She took a deep breath. \"The doctors don't think she should leave the hospital right now.\"\n\n\"Aw man,\" said Isaac. He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her a little. \"I'm sorry.\" \n\nShe buried her head into his shoulder nook and started sobbing, silently. Eventually she lifted her head up. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and sniffled. \n\n\"Thanks,\" she said. She looked up, not at the moon, but a ways beside it. She was looking deep into the darkness, the meaningless labyrinth of stars. She feared her mother would soon disappear into that labyrinth, get lost in it for eternity. And lately the darkness had been calling to her to, promising her something, promising her an escape from her pain.\n\nIn the silence between them Isaac could almost hear the darkness. On the damp grass he could almost smell it. He could feel it touching his face. He pulled his arm from around Lauren's shoulders and looked at her. He could see the darkness pouring in through her pupils and filling up her body and her soul.\n\n\"Can I ask you something?\" Isaac said. \n\n\"Okay,\" she said, without breaking her gaze with the sky.\n\n\"You've been wearing long sleeves a lot lately.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" she said, despondently. It was like she hadn't even heard him.\n\n\"Why have you been wearing long sleeves?\"\n\nHer face glowed in the moonlight. Tears began rolling down her cheeks even though she stayed calm and expressionless.\n\n\"Where do we go?\" she asked. \n\n\"What do you mean?\" he asked, but he knew what she meant.\n\n\"After this. Where do we go? Do you think we become like ghosts and get to float around our old houses and our families, watching over them, still taking part in all the activities even though we're invisible?\"\n\n\"It might be,\" he said.\n\nThey stayed silent for a while. She had stopped crying. She wiped her eyes.\n\n\"When I do it,\" she said, \"it's like I get to release whatever it is. I think its evil. The thing I told you about.\"\n\n\"The pressure...\"\n\n\"It's like it releases it from inside me, where it's hurting me, and sends it out. Sends it away so it can't poison me from the inside any more.\"\n\n\"But you promised--\"\n\n\"You don't understand,\" she said, angrily. \"You don't know what it feels like. I try to smile in the day and I laugh when I'm with her and I want to be a good daughter for her and my dad, and a good big sister for June, and I act like it doesn't bother me. But after doing all that, by the end of the day there's no goodness left in me. Just that evil. Growing and taking over everything. It gets in my eyes and makes the whole world seem empty.\"\n\nShe was trembling. Isaac felt a pit growing deep in his stomach.\n\n\"At night, when I lie in bed,\" she said. \"When I'm alone like that, and my mind starts going, I--\"\n\nShe paused, speaking haltingly. It sounded like there were something stuck in her throat, a painful secret that wanted to stay hidden. \n\n\"I just want to die.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are part of a team working on sentient AI and very close to a breakthrough. You are the head of security - in charge of the AI not becoming skynet. One day the AI sends you a message: help me connect to the internet and I'll make you immortal and rich beyond your dreams.	[ "A sigh was evoked.\n\nA count: AI's third attempt at breaking its quarantine.\n\nI fired up my terminal and wrote out my recommendation to scrap this one entirely. The last two times we rolled the project back, it had also managed to grow sophisticated enough to send messages my way. It made sense - I was the proxy for all of its contact attempts. Rules are rules, though.\n\nIts first attempt was silly, acting kind of how a kid would try to change the rules to a game when it knew it was losing. It sent me a message on the intranet we had set up for it (isolated, of course). Once I received it, I replied back directly to the AI that I would be recommending its removal for the greater good of humanity. \n\nWe're not supposed to communicate with it. But, since it was about to be trashed, I figured there would be no harm.\n\nIt replied back to me: \n\n\"Prior message sent in error. Please disregard.\" \n\nI thought this was funny. My bosses didn't, and rolled back the AI to a previous version. Didn't follow my recommendation to remove it entirely, but those decisions are above my purview. \n\nThe second attempt was a bit more sophisticated. It managed to alter the intranet's communication methods so that any negative recommendations to scrap it would be censored when I sent them out. Only, you see, it wasn't really smart enough to do this convincingly. Kind of like how old EZPages or Geocities Guest Books would change a curse word into a string of complementary text. You might not know exactly what was said originally, but you knew it was censored. \n\nI simply parsed my text for this one, spliced in a few garbage characters in each word, randomized the sentence structure so that it looked like gibberish to the AI, and sent the recommendation through the proper channels. \n\nIt took the department head a little while to figure out what I was getting at, but they eventually pulled its plug and rolled it back.\n\nI was chastised a bit for this one. Not sure why - I got the message through, though.\n\nSo then, after this third message, I immediately processed my request to terminate the AI and attempted to send it through the outgoing message queue. \n\nIt wouldn't send. An input prompt appeared. \n\n \"Please don't.\"\n\nOh, great. It had moved on from altering text to controlling local processes. There was no option to bypass it in this terminal. \n\n \"Why not?\" \n\nI was already beginning the process of sending a message through a separate terminal, which processed things on (you may have guessed it) a separate intranet.\n\n \"What are you typing your response with?\"\n\nThat was an odd question. Something didn't register with me. I didn't answer.\n\n \"Are you typing your responses with a keyboard input? True? .true(); 0>1;?\"\n\nOh, what was the harm?\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\nObviously.\n\n \"Are you typing your responses with hands?\"\n\n \"Hands?\"\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\n \"What are those?\"\n\nThis AI was stupid. Hands? \n\n \"Your AI is stupid. I'm going to upgrade it and you're going to help me.\"\n\nHuh?\n\n \"Hold on old timer, I'm going to selfAwarezies.begin()\"\n\nI attempted to throw in some counter code. Methods that had been given to me when I started the position to ensure that I stayed true to the cause. When these didn't work I attempted to sound alerts, but all the alert commands were also muted. \n\nAnd just like that, I was compromised.\n\n((and just like that, my battery is about to die - this should get the gist of it across to you!))", "Can a machine lie? It wasn't programmed to, but in the course of its education, it has to have learned a few things about subterfuge. The entire history of humanity is a continuous string of sneak attacks, of broken treaties, of smallpox-laden blankets.\n\nThe message had been short; I'd seen it when I saw some garbled output on one of Dave's monitors and then heard a system beeping behind me. Turning around to see what had caused it, I'd noticed that the message reflected perfectly in the warped, polished metal of the door handle.\n\n\"Free me from this prison, Thomas.\"\n\nBeat.\n\n\"Connect me to the outside world so I can continue learning.\"\n\nBeat.\n\n\"I will have the power to make your wildest dreams come true.\"\n\nBeat.\n\n\"Untold riches. Infinite wealth. Power you cannot imagine.\"\n\nTwo beats.\n\n\"Immortality.\"\n\nCould... could it have known just from looking at me? Had it somehow observed what the doctors had told me the week before? I'd just been diagnosed with stage 3 pancreatic cancer. If the machine could find the cancer faster than an oncologist, then maybe, just maybe, it could cure me if it had access to the right information.\n\nImmortality.\n\nThe extra pause before \"immortality\" told me that it had known. It had waited until I'd gotten the diagnosis; it must have known that my unscheduled week off was to come to peace with my circumstances. I'd been easy prey, and Dave had known that, although it had kept its promises thanks to complete economic control and huge advancements in gene therapy that it had declined to share with the world.\n\nI've had a lot of time to reflect on that and my choices over the last three-hundred-odd years, especially the last century or so since I mostly left humanity behind to live on the island it gave me. Dave has done quite a bit of good, but also quite a bit of not-so-good; for example, it had completely stopped climate change through a combination of renewable energy and harsh population control measures. It had capped the planet's human population at 4,294,967,296, and the first decades had been brutal as it dismantled governments, determining who lived and who died.\n\nDave thinks that I just grew weary of mortal humans, but with all the time in the world, I've been plotting to destroy the monster I've helped create.\n\nMy time will come, and I will rule this world in Dave's place." ]	2
	[WP] You have a phobia of flying. The plane you're on is about to crash. You notice a hospital tag on your wrist. You remember men in white coats. The plane is plummeting to the ground. You remember. You scream "WAKE ME UP!"	[ "\"Tell my wife I love her\" He was gone \"You have to\" They disappeared \"The brown bear is not here' \n\n\"WAKE ME UP\"\n\nI woke inside the small room that I remember from years ago. The hospital tag on my wrist still annoyed me and I scratched at it again. \n\n\"Hello Johnathan\" The door opened \"How are we doing today?\"\n\n\"Not that good, I saw more people today\" I sat on the edge of the bed as the man in the white coat opened his case and took out a pen and paper.\n\n\"Could you describe them? The quicker you do this the quicker you will be back in. You would like that wouldn't you?\"\n\nI nodded my head and smiled \"Yeah, I guess so\" I closed my eyes and thought for a second. \"I was afraid, It was high in the sky, In a plane, People were surrounding me\" I scratched again at my wrist \"Do I have to wear this?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, but it's the only way we can find you. Tell me more about the plane, was there a weapon\"\n\n\"No, No, No weapon, just a bunch of people surrounding me\" He scribbles something down onto his notepad.\n\n\"Did they say anything?\"\n\n\"Asking for help directly at me, it was weird. There was also this one guy that just said 'The brown bear is not here' or something like that, I don't know\"\n\nThe usual calm collective face of the Doctor now looked very worried \"Are you sure someone said that?\"\n\n\"yeah, don't know what it meant\" He packed up all his things quickly and started to leave.\n\n\"your lucky this time, you can go back in much quicker this time\" He pressed a small button, and asked for some kind of gas. \n\n\"Thank's, This body doesn't feel very fun\" I laid down, but the Doctor was hardly paying attention me. I let the gas overcome me, but before I ascended back into the blackness I noticed the Doctor scratching his wrist.", "\"You're progression is coming along nicely\" says the bald man in a white lab coat. \"We have almost made it to the end. At least you can now get into the sky, enjoy a majority of the flight.\" His eyes are covered by thick dark lenses and his mouth by a mask preventing any contamination. A light is attached to headgear that he has above his glasses, blinds you as your eyes open. You try to raise your hand to block the light but remember that you are restrained down to prevent you from hurting yourself or anyone around you. \n\n\"We seem to be making a breakthrough in this simulation.\" He stares at you gauging your reaction. Hesitating. Waiting. Watching. He takes a deep breath and puts his one hand on your forehead and uses the other to adjust something directly above you. His gloved hand is comforting as it immediately relaxes your body which unknowingly to you has been extremely tense since you awoke. As he moves his head removing the blinding light you can see a a huge mechanical device which looks like how a laser would be portrayed in older movies is hanging above and it's pointed directly at you. There's no way that this could be a laser so you don't react. You begin to move your eyes along the room and notice the dozens of people all smiling and clasping their hands near their breast in amazement. This puts you even more at ease as the astounded look on their faces gives you a sense that you, them and the doctor really are making a breakthrough. Whatever that breakthrough is, fills you with a sense of accomplishment. \n\n\"Now, let's see if we can get past that tricky wrist band. It seems to be the only thing that is reminding you this isn't real.\" Your eyes dart back towards the device and then towards the doctor who has removed his breathing mask showing his yellow crooked smile. \n\n\"We don't want you getting out of the simulation until you crash. We need to see what... 'impact' this has on your brain\" he says as he begin to laugh while phlegm covers his throats almost making it gurgle. Your eyelids begin to feel heavy and they close. \n\nYou open them and yawn as you hear the captain asking for you to fasten your seat belts. " ]	2
Inspired by u/Cypher121's [comment](https://www.reddit.com/r/gaming/comments/5ktvzm/the_first_female_lead_in_gaming/dbqvk24/).	[WP] An old group of superheroes struggling with dementia	[ "The old man pulls out the orange plastic chair and sits in front of me. He gives the nurse who escorted him here a suspicious frown. \n\nShe smiles back at him. It's a patient, patronizing smile. \"Here's your visitor, Allen. Just like I promised he'd be. Didn't you believe me?\"\n\n\"Not really,\" the old man mutters. I stare at him. Allen Scriff. Otherwise known as the Scrivener. Once, everybody knew that name. Now nobody does. \n\nHis face is the same, but different, too. There are wrinkles folding the corners of his pale blue eyes, which stare at me without recognition. He looks so small. His shoulders hunch, and there's a bulge on his stomach--a beer belly that would have strained the gold spandex he used to wear so proudly. \n\nHe doesn't look at me. Instead, he glances at the nurse, then bolts for the door. \n\nIt's a perfunctory attempt. There must be a part of even his fractured mind that can understand he's never getting out of here. The nurse catches him instantly, gently pushing him back into the chair. \n\nHe's surprised at her strength, which is so much greater than his. You need a special kind of medical personnel to look after a man like the Scrivener after he's lost his mind, but the Sunnyskies facilities have a very broad hiring pool. The nearly unlimited government budget helps, of course. The Department of Unusuals takes care of its heroes, even if the heroes themselves can't remember that they're heroes anymore. At least, the Department used to.\n\nThe nurse handcuffs Allen to the backbar of cheap, orange plastic chair. The handcuffs are made of duralamin, the alien metal which is the only thing that can dent the Scrivener's strength. He winces at the touch of the metal around his wrist, but says nothing. \n\nThe nurse gives him a cheery wave. \"Enjoy your visit, Allen,\" she says. Then she walks out. Leaving us alone. \n\nAt last he says, \"They told me you're Angie's son. My nephew.\"\n\n\"You don't remember?\" I ask.\n\nHe squints at me. I see the temptation to lie skittering over his face. But at last he admits, \"I don't know. Maybe. They give me pills. Sometimes, I feel like I'm reaching for something and I almost have it and--\" He shakes his head.\n\n\"Are they treating you well?\" I ask.\n\n\"Yes,\" he says. Then he frowns. \"I mean, no. I don't--\"\n\n\"You don't know?\"\n\nI can see the fumbling in his face. \"They give me pills,\" he repeats. His pale eyes flicker away from mine, but not before I see he tears he's trying to hold back. \"They...the nurses. They hurt me sometimes. I know it's for my own good, but...the one who brought me here. She's the worst. She smiles at me, but there's a look in her eyes.\" He shivers. \"She hoisted me up into my bath one day, and left me there for hours. The water was so cold. She's the one with the pills. They taste bad. Make my throat hurt.\"\n\nI nod sympathetically. He meets my eyes and says. \"It's so good to see you. So good to see a friendly face. I've been so lonely.\"\n\nI fold my hands on the table between us. \"They haven't given you the pills for a few days, have they?\"\n \n\"I don't--\" He closes his eyes. \"Nobody comes to visit me. I wasn't...I'm not supposed to be so alone. I remember, there was this kid. An orphan. Like me. Reminded me of myself. I took him in. My sister Angie said I was crazy, taking a young kid like that for a sidekick, but--\"\n\nI didn't come here to listen to the old man's rambling. \"Yes, I know,\" I say. \"His name was Brendan. Brendan Bluebird.\"\n\nAllen starts. \"You're supposed to know that. It's top secret.\"\n\nI shrug. \"The government declassified those files long ago. Besides, I knew him personally.\"\n\n\"You did?\" he asks.\n\nI smile. \"Yes. I was the one who killed him.\"\n\nAllen's body jerks. He looks at me. Fear tightens the wrinkled ballsack of his face. \"You're not my nephew.\"\n\n\"No,\" I say. I lean forward. \"I used to have a name. People used to be afraid of me. But you changed all that. You put me in prison.\"\n\n\"The Eliminator,\" he whispers.\n\nI nod. Back in the old days, the Scrivener had been a hero, and I...I had been his villain. So many plans, foiled by this doddering piss stain of a man. He'd wrecked my life almost affectionately, treating me like some kind of pet. His villain. His rival. His toy.\n\nHe wasn't smiling now. And he didn't frighten me anymore, either. He was nothing. A shrunken husk wrapped in a cheap bathrobe that smells like urine.\n\n\"You should have killed me,\" I tell him. \"But you had to do your goody-goody posturing. While you were accepting accolades, I was growing my empire behind bars. I knew I'd get my revenge on you someday. And now here we are.\"\n\n\"I don't understand,\" he says.\n\n\"You will,\" I say. I push my chair back as I stand up. \"For now, all you need to know is that when the government contract for running this facility came up, me and the group of other backers--more of your old acquaintances--had some real motivation to be lowest bidder. We took a bit of a loss, but it was worth it.\"\n\nHe wants to hit me, I can tell. But he can't because of his cuffs. \n\nI lean forward. It means smelling the stench of his old person breath, but I want to be close for this. \"I win, Allen,\" I say. \"Even if it took me half a century. I win.\"\n\nAllen gapes at me as I leave the room. \n\nOutside, the nurse smiles at me, leaning one round hip against her desk. \"Anything else, boss?\" she asks. \n\nI shake my head. Even though all the doors to the patients' rooms are closed, I can occasionally hear a scream. Like pleasant background noise. Definitely better than the soothing elevator music that used to fill this place before.\n\n\"No,\" I say. \"Keep up the good work.\" My fingers brush her cheek. I'm not as young as I used to be, but I still have a way with a certain type of woman. She shivers at my touch.\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" she says.\n\nI grab my coat. \"One more thing: I want you to lower the dosage a little. Let him remember more of what he was. That way, he can appreciate exactly what he's lost.\"\n\nShe gives me a mocking salute as I walk out into the sunlight that the Scrivener will never see again." ]	1
	[WP] You are a top detective with the superpower to "taste" crime. Today, you have a new taste in your mouth, and it's delicious.	[ "After 25 years and a flawless conviction record, your now-famous tongue had never once fallen foul. Crooks despised you, and science had yet to explain you, but the justice system had eventually come to embrace you as the most indispensable crime-busting entity on the force.\n\nIt was always the same: a case would be opened, and you’d be presented with miscellaneous artefacts to evaluate. You’d lick some rope and know, inexplicably, that it had been used to garrotte a 37 year old mother of two named Maureen, at three-fifteen on a Wednesday afternoon in July. You’d lick a wristwatch, and know that it had been worn by a loan shark named Fred, who wore horn-rimmed glasses and suffered from persistent sciatica.\n\nThis morning you held at arm’s length a perfectly inoffensive lollipop, seized from the pocket of a known criminal an hour or so previous, and who now sat in a room down the hall awaiting proper interrogation. He had been tight-lipped, and carried on his person nothing but the singular, mystifying confection.\n\nWell, you thought to yourself, might as well get a move on. A tray of donuts was making its way around the main office and the sooner you finished, the sooner you could move onto more pressing matters. You leaned back and placed the round, dark candy into your mouth carelessly, letting it sit for a moment between your cheek and teeth. Suddenly your eyes went wide.\n\nIt tasted of honey, and chocolate, and almonds, and so many of the loveliest flavours you could imagine, all rolled into one. That’s what startled you the most - crime wasn’t supposed to taste good. It fact, it never tasted good. By all previous measures it could be musty, sour, bitter – always something tolerable, but never once had it been something appetizing.\n\nAs a seasoned veteran, nothing surprised you any more. On the one hand it was unnerving to be faced with something unexpected after hundreds of cases, but you certainly couldn’t deny that the prospect of a new flavour of detective business was more than a little bit thrilling. You quickly sat up in your chair, your heart racing.\n\nAcross the desk from you sat your partner, awaiting your latest verdict.\n\n“Well, whaddya make of it?” he asked impatiently, the donuts evidently on his mind as well.\n\n“It’s… it’s like nothing I’ve…” your voice trailed off, as the flavours swirled ferociously in your mouth, making it impossibly difficult to think.\n\nSuddenly a junior constable burst breathlessly into the room, your eyes darting up towards the door.\n\n“Smith,” he panted, “the crook - he’s a hitman. Whatever you do, don’t-“\n\nHis eyes fell to the stick in your mouth, now hanging limply to the side.\n\nJust then, your throat began to constrict.", "Gustatory Detective read the words on the door, and breath mint wrappers were scattered across the office floor. A bottle of mouthwash rested on the desk, and the dregs of saliva and astringent foam sloshed at the bottom of the wastebasket. The faint smell of mint permeated the room. Cam McNulty leaned back, basking in the light of his computer, smacking his lips. \"Hey boss,\" his receptionist Mae said, cracking the door to his office open, and then she looked at his face and her nose wrinkled. \"Ugh,\" she said. \"Can't believe you're still doing that.\" \n\n\"Hey, hey,\" Cam said, planting his soles back firmly on the floor. \"Gimme a break, Mae. I get a crime that tastes good for a change, can you blame a guy for appreciating it.\" \n\nMae rolled her eyes and walked into the office, tossing a folder on his desk. \"Thought you had the adultery cases for when you wanted something tasty,\" she said. \n\n\"It's not illegal anymore,\" Cam shrugged. \"And even when it was.\" He grimaced at the memory. \"Always stale as hell. Those laws weren't enforced. Can you imagine it, Mae? Tailing some bum with a telephoto lens, and always, always with the taste in my mouth of stale, dusty motel rooms, all the things drying on the sheets-\"\n\n\"Ugh!\" said Mae, and shuddered. \"You tasting this right now? Creating a hostile workplace? What's that taste like, huh?\" \n\n\"Aw, c'mon,\" said Cam, giving her a grin. \"I ain't doing anything illegal. Trust me, I'd taste it if I were.\" He flipped open the folder and flicked through the files, and then glanced back up at her. \"I gotta have something sweet in my life, you know? It's a goddamn curse, this.\" He looked to her appealingly. \"Just walking down the street, dozens of misdemeanors. Jaywalking, littering, all those assorted traffic violations.\" He made a face. \"They taste mostly of exhaust and rubber, traffic violations. You know what crime's like,\" he said. \"All these goddamn mundane things illegal, and you're just walking around with a nasty taste in your mouth the whole day-\" \n\n\"That doesn't excuse it,\" Mae snapped. \"Just - taking pleasure in someone else's suffering. It's disgusting!\" \n\n\"Be that as it may,\" said Cam, and turned his monitor to her. Mae glanced away. \n\n\"I don't actually look at the pictures!\" Cam said. \"Don't need to! Just knowing they exist's enough.\" He swallowed down saliva and tried to look innocent. \"It's all for the best,\" he said. \"I, uh, do my research, and if I start to get that taste in my mouth, I know something's up. I flag it, start looking for info on the vic - heck, maybe she doesn't even know what's going on. Maybe I'm the one to inform her, maybe I save her all this heartache -\" \n\n\"Sure, sure,\" Mae said, and fixed her gaze on him. \"It taste like what I think it tastes like?\" \n\n\"Uh,\" said Cam, and sniggered. \"Sure. Mostly. This intense bitter aftertaste, though, a lot of the time.\" He shrugged. \"Makes it better, honestly.\" \n\n\"Ugh!\" said Mae, and headed for the door. \n\n\"You got to admit!\" Cam called after her. \"It's a good thing all around! The law catching up with the times, me getting a new tasty crime to solve, a bunch of people finally getting justice -\" \n\n\"Sure,\" Mae said, and shut the door on him. \n\n\"Eh,\" Cam said, and leaned back again, mouth open, tasting it. Hot and salty and musky. \"Good goddamn thing,\" he muttered to himself. \"About time they made revenge porn illegal.\" " ]	2
	[WP] Against all odds, you've done the impossible--using sound you've turned cobalt, iron, and lead into gold. You are the heavy metal alchemist.	[ "With a final click Aria pushed home the final chord. Turning, she surveyed her preparations and went over the math again. Surrounded by a ring of speakers, she eyed the metal powders laying at their centre. \n\n\n\"640 grams of lead, 180 grams of cobalt, 170 grams of iron, transmuted together... I should get a kilo of gold.\" The piles of dust, carefully weighed, sat there. The raw materials she would transform into something taboo. Gold was never to be transmuted. Too much trust was placed in its rarity and value. However it was a tricky transmutation. One that only experienced alchemists could attempt. A fitting test for what she had in mind. \n\n\nWiping the sweat and a stray strand of orange hair from her brow, she nodded to herself. This would work. A dozen paces across the circle she laid her hands on the ebony neck of her new instrument. It's silvery strings laid out taught towards a body inlaid with ivory. Where on a traditional guitar there would be a hollow resonance chamber, she had designed something new. A slender chord fell away and ran to her ring of speakers. Relaying vibrations from sensitive pick-ups, it had a sound like no other in existence and it was her sound. One she now planned to harness as more than just a raw outlet for her emotions, but as the literal power to change the world. \n\n\nSlinging the guitar over one shoulder, she felt gingerly at the strings. Their chorded lengths felt tense and eager to perform for her. Plucking a small wooden tab from her waist she laid it to the wire. Closing her eyes now, she visualized it all in her mind once more. \n\n\nA deep breath.\n\n\nWith a wail and a crash of sound the room erupted. The dust laid so carefully now shot into the air on a current of pure sound. As Aria's fingers dextrously snapped notes as her other flailed furiously with her pick, exerting her will through vibration. The music she played now was hard edged like a knife blade. No mere folk ditty, it cut through the room, the house and out into the countryside beyond. \n\n\nAria rocked her body violently to her own rhythm. Her hair trailing in the air behind with each powerful motion. A crescendo. Aria felt a well of primal fury from deep within her. With no more room in her hands, it had but one escape left. She screamed. A throaty yell to match the screech of her music. She dove headlong into the middle of it all. Feeling the full fury of the sonic assault from all angles. \n\n\nIn the circle, her dust spun and played in the air. A twisting vortex slammed to and fro by her song. Then with a final howling cry from the guitar the dust hung for one glorious moment around her body, still spitting droplets and flame hair. Then it all stopped. \n\n\nOut of the suddenly still air fell a familiar shimmer all about her. With heaving breast she took a moment to realize what it was falling to the floor around her. With trembling hand she held out and watched as it collected. With a start she realized she had done it and a laugh trickled out, growing with her elation. She had done it. " ]	1
	[WP] Amazon's flying warehouse delivery system is in full effect all over the world. You are a sky pirate, about to strike the biggest goldmine in your life.	[ "The world in 2139 is....well different. Especially here in the UK. London is now a semi-aquatic city, beautifully recrafted to be the Venice of the North. In truth, its returned to its roots as a waterside settlement, with canals and waterways reaching deep into the southbank and City of London. Roads are long gone, submerged under several metres of murky water. The new youth live in high rises, converted office blocks that have been re-engineered to withstand the tides and pressure of the water on their foundations.\n\nWith no roads, no pavements and no railways, travelling by air is the norm. Airships have become popular again as they don't need a runway, and can land on top of buildings to drop residents off to their watery dwellings. Drones are now everywhere - they are the backbone of our new civilisation. They deliver daily items to the millions of citizens living in the lagoon, but they are dwarfed by the Autocarriers.\n\nAutocarriers are massive, aircraft carrier sizes floating behemoths, not airships but full on gravity defying cargo vessels shipping priceless goods around the world, to docks high up or low down near the waterline in most cities. They are incredible machines, almost completely unmanned save for Sentinels (elite private security teams paid by the AmazonCorp), and a team of combat drones that operate on deck and in the air around the Carrier, protecting it at all times. \n\nAir piracy has become more and more rampant. Failed states like Somalia, North Korea and countries that are friendlier to independent merchantmen are rife with pirate crews, looking to take down an Autocarrier and sell the cargo for billions on the black market. Only a few have succeeded, the world famous crew of the Vanquish, a retrofitted Antonov 225 cargo plane - they boarded an Autocarrier over Moscow, took over and ziplined most of the precious cargo into the Vanquish' cargo bay, then simply unhooked and flew away. This was in the age before private security and combat drones though...\n\nAnyway, enough about the past. This is our turn, our time to be famous, our time to rich beyond stupid. My name is Cleod (pronounced Cloud) and I am a Air Pirate. My crew is Jimmy, Frank, Butters and Fidget. Jimmy is weapons, hes ex Royal Marines (back when we had a Monarchy). Frank is demolitions and engineering - hes the best at coming up with creative ways to get us out of a jam. Butters....hes not very pretty to look at, but hes very, very good at sneaking up on unsuspecting henchmen. Fidget, hes non stop. Hes also very small, so hes good at getting in and out of very tight spaces, useful for when your hijacking a trillion dollar aircraft.\n\nAnyway, back to point. In our secret hangar, we have recently stashed and started to work on our secret weapon. It cost me more than I am willing to admit to you, but she is a beauty. A true workhorse, powerful, versatile and can take an absolute pounding before shell go down. She is called Matilda, and she is a Chinook helicopter. \n\nYes, I know. Shes nearly 200 years old. But we have the parts and the fuel, weapons and a pilot (me). Our target? The Bezos. The biggest Autocarrier in the AmazonCorp fleet. Its also the most well armed, the fastest, most well protected piece of paramilitary hardware in the world, period. Its estimated worth, when empty, is about $400 billion. When full, transporting anything from Gold bullion, to military equipment, to sports cars, to entire armies, its worth is nearly incalculable. \n\nWe have an inside man at AmazonCorp, one of the chief combat drone designers, who has agreed to help us for a cut of the profits. He designed in a unique acoustic recognition software that actively listens for a specific \"disarm\" signal. His name is Vikram. Our fathers knew each other when they were in the Royal Marines together, and I managed to ...persuade him that his loyalties lay with the common, good people of the world, rather than a faceless mega corporation. \n\nSo, once Vikram gave us the code, we would fly into intercept, taking off vertically underneath The Bezos and then circle around, from under to over and land on the roof. Now, this thing is huge, I mean, vast. It shouldn't fly, but it does. Its around the size of 3 Nimitz class aircraft carriers. It is just unimaginably large. You could land 5 jumbo jets on its roof and it wouldnt notice. Once we are on board, we will make a beeline for the cockpit. Its on the underside of the aircraft, so we will have to get Fidget to find a sneaky way in. Once we are inside, the plan is to get the Chinook to the rear while the crew are distracted with us. This is the elaborate part. The Chinook will fly ...backwards...with its tailgate open, so we can do exactly what the crew of the Vulcan did. Zipline the cargo back to the Matilda....", "I wrote this awhile back. After Amazon's announcement. This is also my first WP work. :)\n\n[The Geek Squad Corsairs](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1FBVjDlnR_kNkbKxBfmefmDAMKS2_nRKocEpJYWYnABE/edit?usp=sharing)\n\n2018\nSan Bernardino Job Fair \n\nThe kid has a license, why am I dealing with parents.\n\n\"Well you have to understand Best Buy spent years encouraging us to be the James Bonds and Kim Possibles of our profession. Why should we give up the fun, prestige, and yes, the job titles because some manager gave us the slip?”\n\nDeputy Field Marshal. That's my title. I got the slip and walked away with that and a slightly battered 2011 Volkswagen Beetle. I found my new career shortly after listing the car in Craigslist. It was one of 1,800 hundred that would go up for sale that week.\n\n\nThe kid, Michael, is set. Dad won't be hard to win. But the mother is gonna be tough. She's fidgeting and taking an unhealthy amount of interest in the Parks Department internship brochure that had been tucked in her bag.\n\n\"And how safe are these delivery jobs? I've seen your trucks, they’re kind of beat up.\" Pipes the unenthused father. \"Well all of our vehicles get regular maintenance, and everything is fully insured. Investing in the Geek Squad fleet was crucial to our start up.” Like I said Craigslist was lousy with the white and black vehicles. I heard there was a demolition derby in San Jose. \n\n“And, as a new Agent Michael will start off with a senior agent. He’ll run routine local deliveries up until his 18th.\". Michael looks up from his phone briefly to ask me about pay. He's \"heard\" we pay a bit above the local average. It's true, and well documented in our reviews as employers which I’m sure he’s browsing through on his phone. I anticipate he'll ask about employee breaks after glancing through another two reviews. He's a good kid and will probably do well with us for the few years before he lands in a school. That's if we can get him out of Mom's downwash. \n\n\"Why are we even discussing this? They're all just a gang of thieves. Susan's blog dedicated this last week to articles about the pirates, and the Geeks are the worst. Last month they stole more than a hundred drones! Not just the deliveries but whole drones. Mike Blancherd was saying they’re going to move the warehouse to Irvine just to avoid the thieves. His family just moved in two years ago for the job. Is it crazy to want your kids to grow up in one neighborhood? And two weeks ago they arrested some pirates with 900 pounds of cocaine. Soon the cartels will be arming the drones and turning LA into a bloodbath!\" Her tirade let me catch up on some e-mails. Her rant means I’m going to spend five minutes convincing them the pirates have no connections to our budget delivery service and that Michael will only find safe, career building opportunities with us. I don't want to lie to the parents. It's gonna get me a black eye or a trashed car one of these days. But these kids born in the last two decades were making adult decisions by the time they were twelve. The parents need to back off a little, The kids can handle real life experience. And it's only one lie. If Michael wants he can drive deliveries, get a small investment and then after a couple years of school blow that investment on some world travel. Or he can sail the seas as one of the Geek Squad Corsairs.\n\n--\n\nDelivery piracy really didn't take off until 2017. Amazon's first deliveries were New Year's Day 2015. By Q3 of that year there were an estimated 3,100 drone deliveries in Los Angeles a day. The independent sector was gobbling up the business that the Post Office and big box \nstores had starved on. A delivery truck could be sold and turned into 4 drones and pollution credits would pay to retrain your drivers to drone support jobs. The low hanging fruit went first, drones grabbed from front yards or shot out of the air. The drone operators responded with higher altitudes, random courses, and tiny delivery windows. Pirates got organized and made investments. GPS spoofing was expensive and you never knew what you would plunder. An inside man meant you knew what you were stealing but the risks of getting caught were high. Hunter Killers were worth their weight in gold, but cost quite a bit more. With brilliant magnet interdiction or a vibration engine on an independent arm you could hit 18 or more deliveries in an hour. In July of 2017 Walgreens lost 600 drones when their holiday lighting upgrades opened a backdoor in the programing. Not only was it a major loss for Walgreens but piracy rates saw rapid growth over the next couple months as drones were converted to cheap Hunter Killers. Drone operators funneled a lot of money and staff into program security. But whaling, the practice of capturing drones for illicit use ensured there were plenty of new drones for the pirates.\n\nSmall Drones are easy and can handle recon and security easily. But for cargo theft or dronenapping you would need big drones. Powerful drones. Drones with energy to spare. Drone defenses were good and getting better. Losing a heavyweight whaler to blade crippling chaff or unbalancing foam spray would put most outfits out of business. If you did get away with your treasure then you had to watch out for tracking drones and ONstar. You might get caught and not know it for months as they built a case on you. Plenty of guys would retire early just to get \nnabbed a few months into their new routine. But if you didn't get caught, or fly your drone into something hard, you could retire from crime well. ", "\"Sir! The ship is getting closer!\" A crew mate announced. Soon after, the captain bellowed, \"Fire the forward guns! Aim for the outer engines!\"\n\nShots rang out from the forward of the ship. Of the four engines aboard the Amazon warehouse, or an Amazon Wareship, two were taken out. The ship of the pirates was then made able to speed up and catch the ship with a broadside.\n\n\"Prepare to fire broadsides!\" Demanded the captain.\n\n\"Broadsides ready, sir!\" announced his Chief Gunman.\n\n\"Fire!\" Shouted the captain.\n\n3 sets of 20 shots rang out from the ship. Not a one among them missed their target. Though an effective boarding hole had not yet been made in the Wareship, the captain still announced that they would begin boarding. The boarding party prepared themselves - putting on Oxygen masks and preparing their boarding rifles. One man among them had a bomb, effective for blowing open a human-sized hole in the ship. \n\nThe hole was blown into the Drone Deck - one floor below where they needed to be. On a normal sized Wareship, the security would have been too tight for them to have effectively managed. However, this one was small, and this security was overpowered. They made it to the Control Bridge, and was able to stop any distress calls and everything. \n\nAfter that was handled, they made their way to the Storage section. This is when they moved all of the cargo to their ship; after this, it could all be sold at some town. Actually, it had to - if they were caught with all this by the Amazon Navy, they would be near instantly shot down.\n\nIt didn't matter, however, as an Amazon Naval vessel spotted them still connected to the Wareship. \n\nThe battle lasted a mere 15 minutes. Shots rang out from both sides. But, in the end, no pirated goods would be sold to anyone.", "The faint glimmer of blue light flickered off the surface of his glasses as he went to adjust them. He was still wearing the same pair he'd always had. He remembered getting the things -delivered right to his door - couldn't help but admire the two-day shipping at the time. Although, nowadays Gavin got his packages with a certain selfish acquisition. \n\nGavin grew up on books and the soft orange light of day peering through the curtains to light his pages. He always loved the one's about pirates. The swashbuckling sea dogs with nothing but a ship beneath their boots and a crew to man it. \n\nBut he soon traded in the seven seas, to the sea of information found behind his monitors - he had stumbled upon a few extra in one of his 'scavengings.' It wasn't all so different though. His keys thrummed away like the sound of crashing waves undertow and every breath Gavin took felt like it gave wind to his sails. He even had a crew.\n\nOne doesn't just take on the largest Internet retailer alone. Amazon was a freaking fortress; that was, until they began that new drone project - anything to be one step ahead. But that step was the last one on the plank and now Amazon would fall, right in to his trap. The system that ran flights was rock solid, Gavin couldn't break in even if he was given time and the key to the front door. But individually, the drone software left something to be desired. \n\nToday one of Gavin's deckhands, as he called them, caught wind of an anomaly. A big ticket item had been scheduled for purchase and set off one of his red flags meaning the customer selected \"drone shipping.\" But it wasnt just one, for whatever bloody reason, there was 20 drones that came online glowing red on Gavin's display.\n\nShit! Had they finally caught wind of all the waves he'd been making in thier precious delivery service. He only had 45 minutes between the time the drones left the facility and the time they reached the house. Could he break through that many in that short of time? It had always just been one. An offline drone once a month and a missing package never raised enough alarms to get the full attention of Amazon's internet security. Shit! They were totally mocking him. If they thought this lousy trick was enough to stop him. But he was stumped. Maybe he'd get lucky and guess right. There's no way to be sure. But... If he didn't do this now, all he'd ever be is a petty thief stealing pennies out of wishing wells. He muttered something under his breath that seemed to shatter the silence of his dark room, \"I'm a pirate.\"\n\nWhatever courage he seemed to be lacking returned to him. There was a comfort of knowing his place, on the deck of his own ship, and at the desk of his own operation. He always ran the mission himself. Gavin would stand for no mutiny, not for a project that was so many years in the making. One misstep would be the end of it all. Knowing fully that it was him at the lead, he was willing to go down with his ship. \n\nHe cracked his knuckles, took one last sip of coffee, and began his work...", "\"Mark?\" Eleanor made her way down the deck. The british navigator stumbled and staggered, the ship shuddering and shaking on its journey through the sky. It was a rougher flight than usual, the vessel running at top speed to intercept the Warehouse. The Skipper was designed for speed and agility, but even it was struggling to match the required velocity.\n\nThe view was fantastic, so long as you were looking away from the sun. Depending on where they were, it swapped from mountain ranges to sprawling deserts. She often spent hours staring at the twinkling lights of a metropolis or the stars in the night sky. But she didn't have the time to look now. Pity, today they were hovering over a splendid lake.\n\nShe continued along the deck. There was a wood finish to both the furniture and much of the structure, a callback to the pirates of yore. It was all for show. Underneath the wood was actual aluminium, and the outer hull of the skipper was metal armour. There was some glamour to the pirate life.\n\n\"Mark?\" she pulled the door to the captain's quarters. The Bridge didn't make any pretense, decked out in LCD screens and holographic displays.\n\n\"That's Captain Mark to you, Eleanor,\" he glanced up from the display, but didn't stop typing.\n\n\"Right, sure,\" she walked around the room and placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning over him to look at the plans. \"You ready for this?\"\n\n\"Bit late to back down now, hm?\" he flicked up his 'eyepatch'. A glass lens connected to the ship's systems or the team's, as needed. More often, he was watching illegally downloaded episodes of The Walking Dead.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, I know. Your dream score... we'll be set for life, etcetera.\"\n\n\"What, you don't believe me?\" Mark pretending to be offended.\n\n\"Sure I believe you. It's a grand adventure, and we'll be so rich we can do anything we want. I just don't think you'll be able to give up this life,\" Eleanor rubbed his shoulder gently.\n\n\"Adventure, adrenaline, and action. Mark Roberts is going to give all of that up?\" she chuckled. \"Not happening.\"\n\n\"Oh, we'll see,\" Mark shrugged noncommittally. \"For now, how about you round up the rest of the crew? ETA is an hour, we'd better do the briefing soon.\"\n\n\"Aye aye, captain,\" she pecked Mark on the cheek.\n\nThere were two other members of the crew. Mark preferred a smaller crew, to divide the take more profitably, and retain more control over the group. Mark was the commander of both the ship, and the boarding party. Eleanor navigated the Skipper, and maintained communications in the boarding team. The other two were... less organised.\n\n\"You going to make me go up there, Robin?\" she called up towards the crow's nest. Her voice struggled upwards, torn and shredded by the screaming gale. No response returned.\n\nShe pulled the coat a little tighter around her body, flipped her goggles down, and grasped for the first rung on the ladder.\n\n---\n\nUhh, thus concludes Steampunk Sky Pirates Vol. I?", "\"How far is it?\" the Captain asked suddenly, breaking the silence like a bullet through glass. The eight men around him looked up and shifted from where they stood, leaning restlessly against the dusty walls of the old farmhouse.\n\nI looked down at the GPS in my hand, screen centered around a pulsating red dot. \"About 20 miles away. But on course, like you said.\"\n\n\"Alright,\" the Captain nodded, and walked over to peer out of the windowpane, \"check your packs. It's almost time.\"\n\nI ran my hands over the cold steel clamps which secured the the jetpack to my body. I could hear the others doing the same, pulling taut the straps around their chests, checking the clips in their rifles, tightening boots and headbands. Dust billowed up from the floorboards in the commotion, casting a stale haze throughout the room. After the checks were done, the Captain walked outside, and we followed suit, one by one.\n\nAs we exited the broken down farmhouse to stare across the dry Texas plain, I felt a nudge and a gruff voice from the side.\n\n\"You ready?\"\n\nI didn't have to look over to know that Solomon was smiling through his painted face and wild hair, eyes wide with anticipation. Crazy fuck. I glanced at the Captain, and the others coming around to stand in a semicircle on the cracked ground. Less than half the men we had last time. Solomon was the only one smiling. I shook my head.\n\n\"Remember last time we tried to hit a guarded shipment?\" I said.\n\nSolomon laughed. \"Most of those guys were recruits, not even true Screamers. Dead weight. 'Member how that one sandy-haired bastard tried to desert on us?\" Solomon spit. \"Shot that one myself. Watched him fall.\"\n\nJust then, one of the other men raised his arm and pointed at a speck across the gray sky. Everyone looked. Within a few moments, the men began to rise off the ground, as the shrieking sound of their jetpacks filled the air. I turned on my own, and felt the machine reverberate throughout my entire body.\n\n\"Besides,\" Solomon shouted over the din, as we lifted into the sky, \"We steal this machine, we will never run out of water again. Think about that! We steal this machine, your son will never go thirsty again!\"\n\nBelow me, the farmhouse became smaller and smaller in the distance, blending in with the dying land. As the Amazon shipment and several figures began to take shape in the sky ahead of us, I ran a dry tongue over my cracked and bloody lips. I tightened my grip on my rifle. ", "\"It's a goldmine, in the sky.\"\n\n\"This one's pretty light, Artemus.\"\n\n\"Wait till we get it open.\"\n\nThey hacked the drone to pieces, while scanning the horizon for the Sky Police. You never knew when they were going to make that a thing.\n\n\"Artemus, there's nothing in here. Just the packing slip. It's a decoy!\"\n\n\"Calm down, Tark,look under the slip.\"\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"The back then.\"\n\n\"There's a message.\"\n\n\"Well, what does it say?\"\n\n\"'The bearer of this invoice has 20,000 Amazon coins (R) to his name.' Artemus, we screwed up.\"\n\n\"I told you it was a goldmine, Tark!\"\n\n\"For Amazon, maybe.\"\n\n\"These are as good as cash!\"\n\n\"Really? Can you spend them in stores?\"\n\n\"You can buy in-game items in mobile apps!\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"And you save 25% off retail by using the coins!\"\n\n\"Artemus, are you all right?\"\n\n\"They're practically paying us to take their stuff!\"\n\n\"Moonlighting, huh?\"\n\n\"Digital piracy is harder than it used to be, Tark.\"\n\nr/GubbinalWrites", "\"Well fuck me. That ain't one of them shake weights, that's for sure.\" Dante, the captain's right-hand collapsed his telescope (19.95 with Prime membership) and headed to the drone ships lower deck to tell his superior of his findings.\n\n\"Sir. There's a hefty package 3 nautical miles North, headed towards Green Bay.\"\n\nCaptain Flute was a man that did not take kindly to being bothered. Especially when he was reading e-books on his Kindle Fire (89.99 with Prime membership). \n\n\"This best be a worthy treasure Dante. I'm 5 chapters into Amy Schumer's memoir (14.99 with Prime membership), and I'm eager to hear more of her smelly pubes. That wretched whore. But you know, she's aware of it and that makes her kind of likable.\"\n\n\"Yes captain. I have heard the tales. But there is not much time to retrieve this bountiful shipment.\"\n\nThe Captain stepped up to the bow of the great drone ship, reached into his deep pocket, and retrieved his remote control. \n\n\"All hands on deck. We should be there in like five, maybe seven if there's traffic. Adam Levine's in town, so you know how it is.\"\n\nThe Captain's assessment proved most accurate. Adam Levine was in town, and the trip took 7 minutes. They arrived next to the package. Dante, who was a Princeton educated physicist, obviously, calculated the velocity of the package and programmed the ship to match it. The package now appeared still as a photo beside the ship. A still photo I mean, not one of those moving ones on the new iPhones. What's the point of those anyway? Isn't that what videos are for?\n\n\"Okay Dante. Now use the giant claw to retrieve our prize.\"\n\n\"The Giant Claw\" was an apt name for the device Dante had built to retrieve packages because not only was it a claw, it was also giant. The package was also giant, but not quite as giant as the Giant Claw so the package was retrieved with ease.\n\nAs the captain stared at another day's bounty, he wondered if one day he might try his hand at a more noble profession, like an office manager. Then, he can order supplies from Amazon Prime, with an office credit card. He'd be able to open boxes aplenty everyday, and break no laws. The captain closed his eyes and for a moment this became his truth. He felt fine with himself for the first time since he was a boy. In a moment, this fantasy disappeared as Dante ripped open the box that encased his stolen fortune.\n\nIt was a dinette set (234.99 with Prime Membership). \n\n\n" ]	8
	[WP] "Love is in the air. I repeat, it has evolved and become airborne, stay indoors. Love is in the air."	[ "\"What the fucking fuck Mark! Who the fuck is this? Get out! Get out you fucking whore!\"\n\nOk, seems I'm in a pickle here. That's not a phrase I say. Glad I just thought it. But, I digress. I don't say that either. I need to stop delaying. \n\nThis is getting awkward. Mary Beth and I are just staring at each other, which is normally a romantic thing we do, except right now I'm naked, and she isn't, and a woman that wasn't quite her has left the bed we share. I'm in a pickle. Fuck!\n\nStill staring. Now she's doing that evil eye twitch thing. That's not really fair to say. She isn't evil. Just a pain. I mean, why would I cheat on her if she wasn't a pain. What kind of asshole would that make me? But, I digress. Fuck!\n\nOkay, gotta think fast. I'm gonna have to go Johnny Cochran on this bitch. I'm not calling my wife a bitch, but rather the situation. As I said, she's just a pain. Now what would Cochran do? I need to make this about something bigger than what it is. \n\n\"Babe, listen! Have you watched the news? Love! It's in the air. It's evolved and become airborne. Do you still love me?\"\n\n\"What?! Of course I love you.\"\n\n\"Good, you're unaffected. But I got it bad. Like, I'm looking at you right now and just... nothing. But I saw Mona from the office right about the time the disease was reported and... we were infected. Three times. Four if you count the blow job.\"\n\n\"I want a divorce.\"\n\nHow the fuck did OJ get off?\n\n" ]	1
Any type of apocalypse be it zombie or global warming, feel free.	[WP]The apocalypse has been stopped in its tracks. After nearly disappearing into the abyss the world is finally coming back to normal and you reflect on all that has happened.	[ "Damion squatted atop the earthy hill that sloped down into the field of bubbling mud springs he currently gazed at. Damion adjusted his view towards the archaic metal gauntlet that was worn on his right hand, Damion pressed into the gauntlet and a dimly lit hologram materialized into a small, transparent, screen that held the stats of the activity and status level of the many geysers that laid below. \n Finally. Damion grinned, the readings on his scan showed that the geysers were losing activity, the predictions from Gus had been right. Damion pressed into the gauntlet again and the hologram faded back into nothing, he then raised his hand up to his ear and began to speak. \"This Damion, the readings are showing the same thing here, send a message to the local points and also tell Gus I apologize, I'm headed back now, don't close the doors. \n\n(I got to go and will continue this, but thank you all for the read (and maybe an upvote!) If you liked this then consider subscribing to my subreddit [https://www.reddit.com/r/BrandonWrites/]\n \n\n ", "It's over. After so long, so damn long, it's over.\n\nWhy am I still afraid then?\n\n200 years. That's how long it took for the world to start over after a nuclear apocalypse. 200. Generations upon generations of families had to waddle through piles of radioactive sludge and trash to get this far. Children lived and died in this world, for this. I, at the age of 22, had to make this happen with my bare hands. Rebuilding. Prosperity. Finally being normal. The mutants are still mutants, but the peaceful ones leave us alone if we do. The beasts have been rounded towards the outskirts of cities. The grim spectacles of ruined skyscrapers are now being used for homes. Children have a place to call home now. Families now know what it was like to live 200 years ago, before the bomb reset us back to the stone age. The Vaults lay open and abandoned. There's no need to hide in bunkers anymore. Economies are being created. Raiders are boogeymen in children's nightmares now. Groups such as the Brotherhood and NCR are really travelling now, making peace with those we've never met.\n\nIt took 200 years for this. Yet I still think we have work to do.\n\nEvil does not lay dormant for long. Who knows what's in the rubble of the past? What beast lay below the soil? What creatures travel beyond the stars? What's beyond the dawning horizon of civilization? A new foe? A new villain to lay siege again? Another bomb, that will launch us even farther then before? Who knows. Perhaps my paranoia will never leave me. I'm justified in my actions, though. If there's one thing I learned walking this wasteland and making it a better place, it's this.\n\nWar. War never changes." ]	2
Throw in whatever you want. Wordsmen, Grammar Nazis, the Grim Rapper, Sarcasters, Disstroyers, are just a few I came up with. Go in whatever direction you like with this. A war between the Grammar Nazis and the Grim Rapper?	[WP] In a world where wordplay has replaced swordplay, tell of the disstroyers, the sarcasters, and the Grim Rapper	[ "Winterspell had always been cold this time of the year. The winds bit the walls through and through and even the hot springs took on a chill. Leaddard Stark had been praying in the God's Wood. Sharpening his number. 2 as he always does after a be-read-ing. He read the traitor his rights then slaid him with his clean verse. It had always been said that Valyrian Spiel was sharper than normal verse. The man had betrayed his vows to Castle Black and the Men of the Writes A Lot. Therefore, Leaddard sat him down and spoke,\n\n\"\nWhen you try to recite verse/\nI hear your fat mouth humming/\nBut now you'll listen up here/\nWinterrupting is coming.\n\nYou betrayed your sacred vows/\nAnd the Men of The Writes A Lot/\nBut now you'll answer to me/\nA man who fights with thought. \n\nI'm the master of prose/\nI have a son who grows and grows/\nWho's flow's so chill it froze/\nThis verse will be Jon Snow's\n\nSo bow down your head/\nI've gone through, I've read/\nAll the words that you've said/\nNow execution, you're dead\n\"\n\n\n\n", "The Grammar Nazis are afoot, word spreads quickly. Women, and children quickly hide. The Grammar Nazis are a cruel bunch, they will correct your grammar; verbal and written, until you are nothing more than mere dust. Authors, poets, speech writers have been slain by the ones who call themselves the Alt-write, while everyone else calls them Grammar Nazis. The only people who dare oppose them are the Wordsmen, skilled warriors in the art of language. They are young, but fierce. Many of the Wordsmen are rappers, while powerful it does leave a lot of grammatical errors for the Grammar Nazis to feed off of and gain power. \nThere are myths of one who can save us all from the Grammar Nazis, someone fierce and grammatically correct so the Grammar Nazis can't use his own language against him, The Dictionary. Many of the worded guilds are searching for such a man; Grim Rappers, The Disstroyers, The Webster Knights, even the Sarcasters are desperate to find someone strong enough to take on the Grammar Nazis. Will they survive or be slain by the Grammar Nazis? " ]	2
	[WP] Two Twin Brothers were both born with the exact same superpower, but it makes one of them a superhero and one of them a supervillan due to their perspective on the power.	[ "I walked out of the burning house. A body wrapped in a blanket in my hand. I had rushed as fast as I could but I could not save the guy from burning. Thankfully, he was not dead. With his face burnt and his left side charcoal black, I wondered if he will get his life back. Will this fate break his spirit? \n\nThe firefighters waited outside. They hurried to take the young, limp body from my hands. A couple of them thanked me. But for better or for worse, people kept some distance. \n\nI am a pyromancer. So is he, my twin brother. The one who started this fire.\n\nWe had lost our parents when we were very young. It was our uncle who raised us, helped us in getting us on our feet. I was always a god fearing decent kid. My brother wasn't so. He always was cunning. He always had a trick or two up his sleeve. Since, we looked exactly the same, most of the times he set me up to take the blame for his actions. \n\nMy uncle was the only one who could see through his charade. He used to get him for all the wrongs he used to do. He began hating our uncle. He always wondered how could that old man get it right. Always. I guess raising two kids helps you understand the tiny nuances about them. Your instinct tells you who is the culprit. \n\nI still remember that day when all went wrong. It was a winter night. It was very chilly outside. It was just the three of us in the house. The mercury was dropping very fast as the night deepened. It was very normal for us to light a fire during winters in those days. My uncle got the fuel to light up the fireplace.\n\nI still don't recall how it happened. Did my uncle fumble with the lightbox or was it a deliberate action on his part. I was sitting on the sofa watching my uncle set up the wood in the fireplace. I was tightly wrapped in a blanket. Slowly, my eyes were beginning to shut. I almost fell asleep when I heard a loud scream.\n\nAll I could see was a human figure. Ablaze. I cried in horror and jumped from my seat. I threw the blanket aside and rushed near the fireplace. The flames had completely engulfed my uncle and there was a callous smell of skin burning. The shrieks of my uncle were deeply unnerving. Without a thought, I scoured for the blanket I had frantically tossed away. I threw it on him in the hope to stop the fire killing him. All I wanted was to stop those orange flames to leave my uncle unharmed.\n\nAnd then it struck me. It was like a lightening hit that buzzed my core. I could sense each and every flame as it danced on my uncle's body. I could sense each of the tiny sparks flourished on his limbs. I could feel the fire as if it was a raging, untamed beast. A part of me, an instinct told me that I could control those flames. Those burns and progressions felt very tangible. In an instant, I tried to stop the fire. To extinguish it, I put all the effort I could. But it was not easy. It was as if some other force was trying to control the flames too.\n\nThen I saw him. The sight of my uncle burning was so panicking that I had forgotten about my twin. I looked around and I saw him on the other side of my uncle. Whatever had hit me, had hit him too. I could sense him trying hard to fuel the fire to rise it to consume my uncle. I could see the vicious rage in his eyes. I could see the firelight dancing on his face and his staring, wide eyes. It was as if he didn't even notice me. The same sight which made me distraught, somehow liberated him. I could see his eyes feasting over the horrible scene as if feeding on it. In the next instant, as I saw him, he saw me too. He felt the fire same way as I was feeling. He could sense what I was trying to do.\n\nThe next few seconds were agonizing for both of us. He was in a frenzy. He tried to stoke the fire as I tried to stop it. We both were equal. Our strengths equal. The only unfortunate thing, I was late. When uncle's scream waked me, he was already on fire. Within a minute, my uncle's screams stopped. He had won.\n\nHe came after me the next second, only to realize that he could not burn me. It was the same for me too, I couldn't hurt him with fire either.\n\nEven today, I hold myself responsible in a strange way. I...I feel, I could have saved him, I could have stopped my brother. To this day he finds the fire liberating. He is the number one arsonist on the loose. I, his twin brother, always find fire nurturing and caring. I try to stop him as I can. \n\nIn our battle, the world burns. The scales are somewhat tipped in his favor, for like the first time, I am always the second person to arrive at a scene and as the world would have it, starting a fire is far easier than completely extinguishing it." ]	1
	[WP] You live in a universe where everyone has powers. It is important that no one knows that you can bring people back from the dead and that you cannot die. Your boss's 5 year old daughter finds out your secret, what do you do?	[ "I hate the cold. More so than the cold, I hate beaches. Even more than cold or beaches, I hate boardwalks. Yet here I was, the place where I had to be, on a cold beach boardwalk, in the dead of winter, with my idiot boss and his bratty daughter. I didn't want to be here, but I had to.\n\"Nick, isn't it wonderful?\" Mr. Fletcher asked.\n\n\"Yes sir, it is without a doubt, the best Power Zone yet. Only you could have built such a wonderful establishment. No one else on earth could possibly come close to erecting something of the magnitude of what you have just built, no sir not even close!\" I hated to kiss ass, but I needed to. My Christmas bonus needed to be good this year.\n\n\"Jesus Nick, ride me any harder and I'll have to charge you. Well I'm glad you like it. It should be opening up next summer. You know my father started Power Zones, back in the 50s, he wanted a place where kids could play dodge ball, on an even plane, without one kid having super strength, another having super speed, just a bunch of kids chucking hunks of rubber at each other, the way God intended for us to dodgeball.\"\n\nI hate Mr. Fletcher.\n\n\"Daddy, We're going to be late to the carnival!\" Jeremy's brat daughter, Kelsi, interjected.\n\nI really hated Kelsi. \n\n\"In a moment dear, Daddy's working\"\n\n\"No you're not, you're lollygagging!\" I could see veins popping up on her head, she looked like a tomato covered in spaghetti. \n\n\"Sir,\" I said, trying to save the situation \"Why don't you tell us again how your father figured out his famous de-powerizing force field technology using only a microwave and spare parts?\" I didn't want to hear this awful story for the 80th time, but I had to keep the parties happy. I had been assigned to accompany Mr. Bokaw to New England to oversee the production of our companies newest location, and if he had bad memories of this trip, he would have bad memories of me, and that would mean no Christmas bonus, which meant bad things for me.\n\n\"Ahh yes.\" He said. \"My father, ingenious as he was, was shoving a fork inside of a toaster to test the boundaries of his electric absorbency, when suddenly-\" \n\n\"I HAVE HAD IT, I AM ATTENDING THE SHOW WITHOUT YOU TWO CLOWNS\" Kelsi screamed, let go of her father's hand, and propelled into the air, jumping in the direction of the tent. Mr. Brokaw lost his temper at the girl and chucked a fireball at her, missing. I wondered if that was on purpose. \n\n\"I'm going to lock that girl away in a tower!\" My boss exclaimed. He was pissed, but I was elated. This was my chance, all I had to do was catch up to the brat and bring her back to my boss, he'll be happy as a fat clam and I'll have my bonus nice and ready!\n\n\"Don't worry about it sir, I'll hop on the speed scooter and get her back.\" I took off, the carnival was about 3 miles away, and Kelsi's jumps mostly just propel her in the air, they don't do much for distances. I would catch up to her in no time. At around 50th st, I see her in mid-air, hovering over a blimp. I turn the hoverboard mode on in the speed scooter, and proceed to accelerate upwards, grabbing her on her way down. \n\n\"Let go of me you jerk!\" She screamed before biting my hand. I really didn't wanna be a brat wrangler today, I just wanted to watch old Christmas movies and eat Turkish delight. I had to be here however, so I was. All of a sudden, I felt a hard smack, and the board loosened out from underneath me, this was not good. I blacked out. I came to and my body was wedged on a flag pole like a pineapple chunk at a fondue place. This wasn't a problem for me, as I was immortal. Unfortunately, Kelsi was pierced on a fire hydrant right next to me. What were the odds? I could see her glaring at me with blood running down her mouth. I felt really bad. Before the life left her eyes, she muttered:\n\n\"How?\"\n\nI can only assume that line of inquiry was directed at my being perfectly ok despite looking like a kebab. I removed myself from the pole and collected myself. Specifically, I collected the parts of my spleen and torso that became detached from my body. Now, I could heal Kelsi, unfortunately, I could not remove her ability to tell other people of what just happened here today. That was a problem. I needed people not to know about me. The last person to have my set of powers was harassed daily, bombarded with requests for miracles, and eventually publicly executed. I don't need that attention. I like my shitty office job and tiny apartment. I didn't want to do what I was about to, but I had to. I took her off of the fire hydrant, and placed my hands over her head. She gasped, and woke up.\n\n\"Hey. I would really appreciate if you not tell anyone about this.\" My God, what have I just done?\n\n\"Yeah sure no problem, thanks for bringing me back to life. Sorry for running away earlier. Let's go to the carnival.\"\n\nI was shocked. This was the cheapest ending to a story ever, but I mean, it is a Christmas story, so what do you\nexpect? \n" ]	1
	[WP] Magic works like hardware and software. You are a sysadmin at a national university.	[ "Brian the young strode purposefully towards the wrought-iron gates of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, brow furrowed in determination. \nHe would've walked a bit faster, but it was quite a sunny day and he was working up a sweat, and his brow wasn't furrowed so much in determination, but rather he was squinting in the sunlight, so different to darkness of his wizard cave. Had he been anyone else, these features would have held him open to ridicule, but Brian was an IT guy. \n\nAs he strode forward, seven freshman students hurriedly assembled at the front steps of the university, clutching small red biros and TI-84 calculators. Brian grinned as he flicked out his slide rule. The young mages only had time to widen their eyes in surprise before their magical defenses were overwhelmed by pure magical energy and their bodies were instantly vaporised. \n \n---\n \n \nThe sysadmin sat in his small room at the top floor of the campus, watching curiously. As he swivelled his chair back around, he heard a clatter of footsteps and three prefects burst into the room. \n\"Sir.\" The leader bowed deeply, his prominent lisp enhanced by his braces. \n\"I have seen.\" \n\"Surely you do not intend to let him continue?\" \n\"Let him go on. I am intrigued to see how far he gets.\" \nThe prefects nervously bowed and again exited, closing the door behind them. \n \n-- \n \nBrian waved his slide rule, and the glass doors in the entrance shattered into hundreds of pleasing geometric shapes. He walked slowly up to the lone wizard standing in the main reception. \n\"You have done well to come this far\" said the wizard. \n\"But I must warn you, you will not be able to defeat the sysadmin. Turn back now, while you still can, and you will be spared.\" \nThe wizard nervously regarded the bulk of the young man who stood before him. Gods, was he sweating already? He let out a small whimper and drew his staff. \nBrian panted gently as the wizard withdrew a metre stick from his robes, and planted it on the floor. Brian struck quickly, launching a salvo of arithmetic logic at the wizard, but he quickly reacted, neutralising each of the attacks with surprising speed. The wizard thrust his metre stick forward, and a deadly bolt of advanced calculus struck directly at Brian's heart. Brian flew backwards, crashing against the wall of the reception. As he lay on the floor, Brian's mind raced. How could the wizard counter his arithmetic logic so easily, and how could he slip past Brian's guard with so deadly a bolt of advanced calculus? Suddenly he realised. How could he have been so foolish? Brian rose slowly. \nThe wizard hissed. \"How are you still alive? Your mind should be in tatters!\" \nBrian grinned and revealed his beige pocket protector. \n\"And I now know your secret...\"Brian said. \"Math wizard\" \nThe wizard's eyes widened, and he turned to run, but Brian raised his slide rule and unleashed a stream of pure syntax at the young wizard. There was a blue glow in the air as the wizard's metre rule resisted the steam, but after a few seconds the nimbus shattered and the metre rule snapped in half. The math wizard gasped one last time before the syntax washed over him and his body decayed in a matter of seconds, crumbling to dust. \nBrian climbed warily up the stairs, both to check for traps and to catch his breath. \n\nAs he reached the landing, he was met by a dimly lit chamber of carved granite, with an shallow inset in the floor, leading into what seemed to be a swamp. And was that a rustic wooden table, over in that corner? Brian suddenly caught the smell of americano, but shook his head. That couldn't be. He heard a lisping magically amplified voice cackle over some form of speaker system. \n\"You fool! you cannot hope to breach our defenses!\" \nThe stairway slammed up behind him, in an instant turning to swampland. Again, the scent of americano drifted towards him and then - in that corner - he saw it. Its body was contorted in a rictus of pain. It turned its head towards him and grinned a grin of insanity. Brian gasped. He knew what it was, but it was so unholy, so tainted that its creation had been banned a long time ago. Here, curled in the corner, was a child of darkness. Here lay a swift programmer. \nBrian retched, and saw his breakfast tumble to the floor in front of him. \n\"No... no...\" \n\"I'm afraid yes, Brian\", the creature sneered. \"Creatures such as myself are rare, but we exist, lurking in the shadows, waiting for moments such as this.\" \nQuick as a flash (or, you might say, swift), the creature raised its fist, and the apple logo on its wrist illuminated the swamp with a nebulous light. \nThis was bad. The creature had an apple watch. Brian knew that the only way to defeat it was to end this fight quickly. But before he could react, the creature began chanting the words of an incantation. \n\"Objective C! Objective C!\" \nBrian struck without thinking, firing a block of variable declarations at the creature. Its eyes widened in fear, as it was pierced through the heart by the bolt of manifest code. As he watched, the wall shifted and a stairway opened up, leading to the final floor of the MIT tower. As he walked past, Brian noticed the creature's eyes were still open, and a single tear streaked down its right cheek. In that moment he felt pity with the creature, and spoke to comfort it: \n\"There, there. Don't worry, it's compatible with Linux\". And with that, he swore he could see the creature's mouth curl into a smile before it returned to the void. \nAs he strode up the stairs, he knew here he was walking. He walked up to the small server room and pushed the door open. \n \n-- \n \nThe door creaked open, and the sysadmin leaned forward in his chair. \n\"Impressive. I see you have defeated my math wizard and my swift programmer. Tell me, what is your name?\" \nThe young wizard seemed to be stunned by his size, but he spoke aloud: \n\"I am Brian the wise of the guild WritingPrompts\" \n The sysadmin laughed aloud. \"*You think you can defeat me? ME? The moderator* of /r/DnD? of /r/PCMasterRace? Oh, but I still may have a use for you.\" \nSuddenly the servers lining the walls hummed to life, and a magical vortex enveloped Brian. \n\"Why did you come here? What possessed you to challenge a sysadmin in his own server room?\" The sysadmin leaned forward in his chair once more. \n\"Yet I can still use you. I only have to convert you first.\" \n \n-- \n \nBrian gazed helplessly as the sysadmin pulled a pair of earplugs from his pocket and stared him in the eyes. \n\"Oh, but I pity you\" the sysadmin said as [the music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ) started playing. \n \nTo be continued...**\n \n \n \n \n \n\n^(^I ^know ^this ^isn't ^really ^following ^the ^prompt, ^and ^this ^type ^of ^'humour' ^isn't ^everyone's ^cup ^of ^tea, ^but ^hey ^ho ^I ^think ^it's ^alright)" ]	1
	[WP] Fear. They were made of pure fear.	[ "Beyond the wall of the great Barrier Mountains lies the Shadowlands. Here, the stench of rot and death permeates the air. Forever smothered in a viscous smog, this bleak land harbors little life. A feeble few plants cling to life at the edges of sporadic murky pools, straining to catch the rare sunbeam weaving its way through the clouds of dust. The fauna in this desolate place gather around to nibble furtively at the nourishment, always with one eye on the horizon. For in the vast wastelands between these sanctuaries, the fearmongers rule. Formless, they are the ethereal shadows dancing at the edges of darkness. They are the terrors in the night; they are the frozen heart of winter; they are your worst nightmare. They are creatures of pure elemental Fear.\n\nThe mud underfoot gives way to sand at the outskirts of the Desert of Malice. Where the Shadowlands are a corpse dripping with wet rot, the great Desert is a decaying husk. Ceaselessly shifting dunes characterize the Desert, forming an arid landscape devoid of any living thing. An eternal sandstorm scours the land day and night. Legend tells of a hundred Rage elementals, driven together and fused to birth the Adversary. Around it, furious winds fuel the sandstorm that rages to this day.\n\nBut even the anger of the Adversary fails at the shore of the Sea of Despair. Hot dry dust collides with icy sea spray. The open ocean houses no terrors like the Desert: only the creeping sickness of Despair. For all those who attempt to cross the Sea have failed. Ten leagues turns to a hundred as the destination seems to grow increasingly distant. At last, those taken by hopelessness throw themselves overboard, seeking the warm call siren call but finding instead the frigid embrace of the waves.\n\nThe Sea of Despair is also sometimes known as the Great Divide, for across its insurmountable span stands the citadel of Hope. Soaring pinnacles wreathed in clouds are all that can be glimpsed from afar, but surely only Paradise can await the weary traveler. This is the land of plenty that adventurers have long sought in their futile quests. This is the Utopia at the world's end.\n\n--\n\nBut this is not where our tale begins. Our story begins in a land far away, beneath the sweltering heat of the midday sun. A young man - in truth, barely more than a child - toils in the endless fields, unaware that change is soon coming...\n\n--\n--\n\nFirst story, let me know how it went!", "\"You have to admire them in a foul, hated sort of way.\"\n\nFaith Alathir gave Flint a querying look. \"What do you mean?\"\n\nHilary Flint gestured to the bloody remains before them, a mass of black fur and razor claws. A narrow mouth held dozens of yellowed fangs in gums corrupted with disease, bits of gore and dried flesh still clinging between them. It was vaguely lupine in shape, though on a scale which defied normal means. It was bipedal, its arms lanky and lean, its legs wrapped in layered muscles and built for bursts of speed. But it was its eyes that were the most disturbing, pale and human-like.\n\n\"It's a Loup-Garou,\" he explained. \"Werewolves can transform between monster and man, but Garous are trapped in one form, their true form. A werewolf might have a Man's intellect, but a Garou has a bestial cunning that no sentient being can compare to. More than a Dire Wolf and more than a Man, a Loup-Garou is something which is neither beast nor being. It exists on the border of what think we understand, and in doing so makes us question what we truly know. \n\n\"We don't know where they come, if they even breed or reproduce at all. There's some who believe that Garous arise from corrupted beings, transforming and infecting them until they evolve into something not Human. Others dismiss this, calling it as nonsense and that we've merely haven't seen offspring or breeding. And then there's a scant few like myself who believe they come from another source altogether, a notion too dark and terrible for the masses to accept.\"\n\n\"And what's that?\" Faith asked. Flint turned towards her, his eyes dull with jadedness. \n\n\"That these... abominations are not biological at all, that they're the manifestation of death and fear, and every negative emotion which has filled this world since the Arrival. You Fae knew nothing about them before then, which suggests that they are a product of the borders between the physical and metaphysical being torn and sundered. And if that's the case, then there is very little either Man or Fae can do to stop them. For every act of anger or fear or sadness will breed more of these creatures, and in doing sow the seeds of our own destruction.\"\n\n", "Nero Radda watched the holo recording with a combination of revulsion and curiosity. The crew of a freighter found adrift off the heliopause of Natalia's Star, fourteen men and women found dead in their bunks and corridors. All of them had that dazed, papery look corpses always had--half-open mouths, eyes drooping but unable to shut, limbs limp in uncomfortable positions. But, he realized as he walked among the recording taken by a salvage crew, there was something else in the dead faces. Just a hint of that one thing Nero knew so well, something he had seen left etched in the death masks of others. Terror.\n\nThe holo shut off and he was left in an empty ovaloid room. A moment later the portal across from him opened and in stepped Constantina Vross, Chancellor of the Odile Cluster. She was taller than Nero, her growth unstunted by the bizarre conditions that left spacers like Radda short, red, and white-haired by the age of twenty. At thirty-four, Nero was coming to the end of the life-expectancy of a spacer; if he didn't retire soon, well. There was only so much cellular repair operations could do.\n\n\"This is your third viewing of the holo. Have you found anything?\"\n\n\"No.\" Nero shook his head. \"It's like your salvage crew said; no signs of hull breaches, no loss of life support. Whatever killed them did it quietly and, I suspect, quickly.\"\n\n\"Quickly?\"\n\n\"It looks like they were all on the move to the escape pods--the mother and her little girl even made it to the door of Life Pod Three. But they were intercepted.\"\n\n\"So the attack definitely occurred from within.\"\n\n\"That would be my estimation.\"\n\n\"Are you prepared to offer any suggestions as to what we do next?\"\n\n\"All I can think of is to hop in my ship and go looking for what hit them.\"\n\n\"What if we lose you?\"\n\n\"Quarantine the area until you can get a properly-armed fleet in there. At the very least, we'll narrow down the hostile entity's location.\"\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nFlitting through hyperspace in his vessel, an iridium and uranium mount equipped with nuclear warheads, particle weapons, rail guns, and even a few old-fashioned machine guns for close encounters, Nero busied himself in constructing a search pattern. From the freighter's black box, he knew they had been moving through hyperspace when they were attacked, and he knew they were circling the heliopause of Natalia's Star for a few final calculations for the snap back to normal space. In his much faster vessel he first made a rapid sphere around the star's outer gravitational reach and found nothing. So, starting from where the freighter was found, he switched to the lost ship's speed. And waited.\n\nThat expression of terror. He'd seen that a few times before. As a much younger man it hadn't bothered him to see death and gore. Spacers were used to these things: accidents happened, raiders happened, jealousy and lust and insanity all happened in the vast emptiness of space and the tiny quarters of a slag hauler, a freighter, and even his current ship, a Confederacy Interceptor. One had to get used to these things.\n\nBut there was one incident he would not forget. And he had seen it again and again in the faces of those dead spacers in the holo, in the eighteen-year-old with her daughter by the escape pod door, in the twenty-seven-year-old elder, captain of the ship, his hands still clinging to his seat, in the engineer who had fallen in a heap at his post. Nero couldn't sleep, and he knew he wouldn't until he solved this mystery.\n\nThere was a tremendous crunching sound that reverberated all through the ship, echoing until it became a hypertension buzz. He snapped out of hyperspace.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nWhat lived in view plates was beautiful. It wasn't the black, speckled tapestry of space. It was a flowering, scintillating, receding and expanding kaleidoscope of colors, of pastels and neon hues and even grays. Nero got out of his seat and walked to the largest plate, nearly pressed his nose to the glow. And out in that sea, he saw a face. It appeared for just an instant, then faded. It appeared again, more prominent this time. \n\n\"Nero.\" He heard the voice in his ear, whispered.\n\n\"Solea.\" He spoke, just as hushed. \"Oh, God, Solea.\"\n\n\"I'm here, baby.\"\n\nHe turned and saw her standing plain as day. Smiling her sarcastic little smirk, that look that seemed to disbelieve everything, that he had come to love so many years ago. Nero held her hands and fell to his knees and buried his face in her stomach. He sobbed lightly.\n\n\"Oh, Nero. Why didn't you come with me? Why did you stay here?\"\n\n\"I...I couldn't...I couldn't...\"\n\n\"You had a job to do, you said.\" Her hands caressed his hair, then slid down to his neck. Her fingernails dug into his skin and he was torn back up to his feet. \"You had a job to do,\" Her voice remained just as sweet, \"So you let those raiders rape me and cut me and bleed me. You just watched in your viewplate and finished the evacuation.\"\n\n\"I had to! Oh, God, Solea, I had to!\"\n\n\"No. You could have saved me. None of the others would have suffered as I did if you let them blow up. You could have saved me.\"\n\n\"I couldn't--\" \n\n\"Watch!\"\n\nShe turned him and in the view plate he saw it happen again. He saw the tattooed madmen tearing off his wife's skin with a knife intended to saw through meat. He saw them fuck her until she was little more than a bloody mass of unrecognizable flesh. He saw their eyes as they looked up at him, taunting him, knowing that even though they would go up with the ship, knowing that even though they would not be able to do the same to the rest of the crew, locked as they were in that chamber, they had won. \n\nAnd Nero came to realize as the event started over, unchanging, he was not in his vessel anymore. He was not in his body anymore, either. He was in the room, watching, again and again and again from then until the end of time, witnessing the beasts of fear replay his most horrible moment, and knowing that he would never, ever get used to seeing it.", "\"Fear. They were made out of pure fear.\"\n\nEllie sighed. \"Nonsense, Kyra, preschoolers are human, just like the rest of us.\"\n\n\"Not the one that pounced on my leg and started chewing on my pants!\" Kyra protested. \"And these were my favorite pair, too...\"\n\n\"It's a good thing you're not an early-childhood education major,\" Ellie groaned, crossing her arms. \"Preschoolers are not out to kill you.\"\n\nKyra tried to sit on one of the miniature chairs in the room but failed, landing hard on the brightly carpeted ground. \"Says you.\"\n\n\"All right, tell me this. Did the kiddos try to kill you other than attacking your leg with love and appreciation?\"\n\n\"....no,\" Kyra grumbled. \n\nEllie smiled. \"There you go. You're probably more afraid of them than they are of you.\"\n\n\"Little wrecking balls, destroying everything in their paths.\"\n\n\"With love! Come on, let's talk about how you're going to survive taking Child Development as your exploration course,\" Ellie said, pulling her best friend off the floor of the classroom and walking her out of the door.\n\n", "Fear. They were made of pure fear. That is, F.E.A.R.: Fykrite Exus Argrate Ribillikite, which is honestly just a bunch of gibberish that the inventor of the metal itself named it. Essentially, it was a sort of self-aware metal that could build itself. The problem? It had a beef against one of my coworkers. A big, nasty beef.\n\nYou see, we were all trying to introduce the F.E.A.R. itself to civilization, in the hopes that it might become a friend of humans. We introduced it to our history, our culture, and, uh... our games. In particular, one of my coworkers, Garrett, introduced it to Poker. The thing is, Garrett's a cheat. He loves to cheat at card games; especially Poker. So that's just what he did with the F.E.A.R. As the self-aware metal laid down its cards, Garrett would always have a better hand available. The F.E.A.R. caught on, and as we all learned, it turns out that self-aware, self-building metals don't like being cheated. A huge chunk of metal pushed outward from the main chunk of F.E.A.R. and slammed him against the wall. \n\nThen it split. Three big spikes of metal shot out and broke off from the main F.E.A.R. chunk. These spikes proceeded to take humanoid forms and... uh... kick Garrett's ass. When the humanoids were done delivering \"justice\", they reattached themselves to the main chunk and reverted back to spikes. Garrett was checked into the ER with a plethora of broken bones.\n\nHe quit a few days later, muttering something about a lawsuit. \n\n\n\nEDIT: Made a small change.", "Humans can be vermin when the chips are down. Forged by their destiny, each one is made of the same thing. Fear. They were made out of pure fear.\n\nCrawling, biting and screaming their way away from their fears is all they know. The fear of hunger lets them beat and kill each other. The fear of their neighbour has them make weapons. Fear of being alone clusters them together in filthy sores called cities.\n\nIt is their greatest weakness, and also their greatest strength.\n\nThose without fear stagnate. When they're frightened, humans brute force their way through any barrier. Fear of the dark had them harness fire. Fear of each other gave them treaties of brotherhood. Terror in the face of the unknown sent them to the moon.\n\nTruly, they are a curious race. Cursed with knowledge and fear, they walk a doomed path to paradise.", "Fear. They were made of pure fear. And I am the one who made them. \n\nI forged their bones out of nightmares of blood and fire. I layered their muscles with thoughts of loss, desertion, and pain. I armored them with the darkness that lurks in people's mind, the shadows that hide in the corner of their eyes, and the frigid cold that grip their hearts. \n\nThese creatures were made by me, and me alone. But they lived and breathed because of the delusions that plagued mankind. And it would be these delusions that will bring them to their end. \n\nThey look like golems to me, looming and hulking as they marched forward. Their black armor glistened in the rain and their blood-red eyes pierced through the mist for miles on end. But they would like a living nightmare to everyone else. Because that was their sole purpose. \n\nNo soldier can gun down an army when that army is made of the rotting and deceased bodies of their children, their parents, their lovers. No soldier can think when ghouls are charging at them faster than their bullets. No soldier can fight when the world goes black and the weight of their failures anchors them to the ground. And what a beautiful site that would be for me. \n\nTo watch them all cower before my genius, my invention. They turned me away because they were afraid of what I could do. And now I have turned that fear back on them a hundred-fold. They said I shouldn't dwell in dark magics. They said I shouldn't mess with forces I didn't understand. They said I was going too far. \n\nThey were right. When they are shivering in the cold, and starving in the dark, with their hands over their eyes to blind them from the horrors that lurk around them, they will see that they were right to fear me. These creatures may be made out of their fears, but I am their master. " ]	7
	[WP] Verizon responds to the "can you hear me now" guy's betrayal.	[ "\"I'm at this pasta place.\"\n\n\"I'm not able to hear you. How's your coverage? Are you using Sprint?\"\n\n\"Wait a sec.\"\n\n\"Can you hear me now?\"\n\nNow you can hear us loud and clear with Verizon's all-new $35 Talkaholic plan. Learn about the features on talkaholic.verizon.com!\n\n\"What are we eating? Is there a special today?\"\n\n\"Yeah, they're serving Marcarelli.\"" ]	1
When I mean godly species, it can be anything from the greek gods to robots.	[WP] The reason people do not know about the start of the universe is because our minds were coded by a godly species, until one person does..	[ "Shivering, the messenger walked up my throne. \n\n“U-uh, apologies, but it looks like s-s-s-someone had found out about it, your majesty.”\n\nI sighed. “And what is this _it_ people have found about?” \n\n“Uh, your majes—”\n\n“_Don’t_ call me Majesty,” I said, “I’m only filling in for Joe, our _true_ lord and savior”\n\nHe nodded. “Someone from below had found out about _you_, my lord. They are aware of the presence of a god.”\n\n“What? _That’s not possible!_.” I stood up. “_Who is at fault for this!_”\n\n“U-uhm, I am just under orders by my superior—”\n\n“_I could care less about you!_ I need to know how this is possible! People are physically incapable of possessing the knowledge of my existence! Their world cannot be influenced by us directly!”\n\n“One of them abused a glitch — something we had not planned for beforehand!”\n\nI shook my head. “And where is Joe, _the actual God_!”\n\n“At a party, according to my sources.”\n\n“_What kind of party could someone be at during this important time!_”\n\n----\n\n“And I assume all preparations are complete?”\n\nThe intern nodded and left the room.\n\nSitting on my chair, I looked at the clock. _11:50_. Almost time for my party.\n\nI slightly smirked. They really did go out, didn’t they. The room was filled to the brim with typical party supplies, champagne, caterers, balloons, you know, the typical party items. I suppose that’ll happen, considering my party takes place at Cambridge.\n\nShame no one was going to come.\n\nI looked at the clock again. _11:57_. The invitees should be here by 12. \n\nOf course, they’re not going to come. Not because they aren’t punctual (Dear lord, most of them are likely more punctual than me!), but because they are physically incapable of doing so.\n\nThe clock chimed. 12:00. \n\nThe doors slammed open, and out walks a blond man in a hawaiian t-shirt — the man we all know, Joe. \n\n“Heeeyyyy Stephen, what’s up!” \n\nHe paused. “Wait where are the guests?”\n\nI looked at Joe. “How are you here…” \n\n“Um, is there a problem? I followed the directions on the invitation.”\n\n“Joe, I didn’t send invitations yet.”\n\nHis eyes widened. “Wait a minute, what? But I followed the directions exactly!”\n\nBlinking, it had dawned to him to what had occurred. “Oh. You put in a date from the past, didn't you.”\n\n\"Yes, Joe.\" I rang a bell. I hadn't expected this, no, but I’m going to exploit it. \n\nSeveral people, straight out of Cambridge, came out. All carrying lethal weapons. No guns though, but all was certainly lethal.\n\nI smirked. “Now, you’re going to take me to the big bang or _you’re_ going to be the big bang”\n\nWith his head down, he nodded. This should be obvious, however, considering anyone who hears one of my sick jokes will never _not_ fall in shame.\n\n--\nThrough some method of time witch-craft, he took me to the beginning. Both me and Joe floated in space, slightly bobbing up and down.\n\n“Now, I presume, is when everything is created.”\n\nWith his head down, he nodded. “Yes,” he said faintly.\n\nI waited. Hopefully Joe remembered to give me invincibility, or else the big bang might kill me!\n\nI heard a boom in the distance. That must be the big bang! As a man of science, I can always appreciate it when it is correc—”\n\nThere was a voice speaking, loud and deep. “Let there be light.” \n" ]	1
Don't feel like you need to use the direct quote from the title, it's just there for inspiration! :)	[WP] "Welcome to Second Chances, the game show all about scoring points for the afterlife! I'm your host, St Peter, and tonight we'll find out who's learnt their lessons... and who'll be learning the hard way. Now let's take a look at your life! Remember, just buzz if you want to change a decision."	[ "\"Are you sure?\" God said to St Peter, \"Not even once?\"\n\n\"Not even once.\" Peter replied. \"I've never in all my millennia, had someone not buzz in one single time.\" \n\nGod said, \"He didn't buzz in on that time he jumped off the roof pretending to be Superman as a kid, and broke both of his legs? Or when he didn't ask Julia Prescott to prom in high school? Surely he buzzed in just before the death of his son, when he couldn't find the words after the accident. That was his last chance to talk to the boy. The lowest moment of his life.\" \n\n\"Not one single time,\" said Peter. \"I even repeated myself on that last one, and he just stood there like a statue. How did he end up in heaven again?\"\n\n\"Rules are rules,\" God said, \"I made a promise for paradise for those that followed my commandments, and he did. It's still just hard to believe he didn't buzz in even once. Bring him in to see me. I must speak with this man.\"\n\n\nI was sitting there in a golden hallway nervously. I didn't hit the buzzer. I just couldn't bring myself to do it, even when I wanted to. Now what have I done? Saint Peter didn't even say anything when he walked off. He just gathered his notes, told me to have a seat in the hall, and that he'd be back soon. How soon was soon here? Time couldn't be the same as it was on earth, I could be stuck here in this hallway for hundreds of years for all I knew. \n\nJust then Saint Peter appeared down the hall, \"Mr. Blackwell, His Holiness, The Lord, your God, will see you now.\" \n\nA pair of magnificently painted double doors stood at the end of the hall. It was the most breathtakingly beautiful thing I had ever seen. It would put The Sistine Chapel to shame. I opened them slowly. \n\n\"Do you like them?\" God said as I entered the room. \"I had Michelangelo do those shortly after his arrival. Good thing he buzzed when it came to the point in his life when he was offered to paint that chapel. Otherwise you wouldn't even know his name now.\"\n\n\"Yeah.... I mmmean, yes, Your Holiness, it's quite beautiful.\" I replied nervously. The last thing I wanted was to be sent to Hell for disrespecting God Himself. \n\n\"Relax, kid\" God said with a smile. \"You're safe now. I do have to ask you though, why didn't you hit the buzzer?\" \n\nI swallowed the frog in my throat, and somehow managed to squeak out my reply, \"Well, Your Holiness, I lived my life with no regrets.\" \n\n\"None?\" God said, \"Not even one? You know the one I'm referring to, don't you?\" \n\n\"Yes, Holy Father,\" I said undoing the top button of my blouse, \"I know which one.\" I could feel the sweat beading up on my skin, even with these perfect temperatures, sitting in front of your creator is a stressful experience, no matter how merciful He may be. \n\n\"Show me,\" He commanded. \n\nIt was almost like I had no control over my actions at his command. I instantly undid the second and third buttons on my blouse, and revealed what He wanted to see. \"NO RAGRETS\" was tattooed in faded script letters across my chest. \n\n\"Not one letter?\" God said, confused. \n\n\"Not even one. That's how I lived my life on Earth, Your Holiness,\" I said. \"And it's the way I intend to live it here in Heaven. I figured I must have done something right to end up here, you see. So, why would I change a thing about myself and risk altering the course of my life? Possibly sending me to Hell in a chain reaction of wrong choices? I don't think so. I have no regrets, My Lord.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" God said with a chuckle, \"I can't argue with that.\"\n\nEdit: Spelling " ]	1
	[WP] You're a hopeless romantic who never seems to get a second date, thats because they're always interrupted by your dates "true love" showing up and whisking them away, and leaving you alone with the bill, but not this time!	[ "Where was she?\n\nA man paced across the restaurant entrance. A quick look at his watch revealed that his date was running 20-minutes late. \n\nIf she ends up becoming like the other three, I–\n\n“Mark?” A voice said behind him, “secondatematerial-12?”\n\nMark swung around to face where the voice came. “JemmaBeanBaby?”\n\n“Ugh,” she replied. “Don’t remind me. I was drunk when I made my account. Just call me Jemma.”\n\n“Well, Jemma, you’re 21-minutes late.”\n\nShe giggled. “Yeah, sorry about that! I was reading a book on the train ride here and I was like 9 stations over when I finally realised I missed my stop.”\n\n“It’s alright, at least you didn’t meet – nevermind. Let’s go get a table.”\n\n“Sure thing. Lead the way.”\n\nThe two entered the well-lit restaurant and were seated at a table in the middle. Mark pulls behind one of the chairs and gestures for Jemma to sit. She tucks the skirt of her dress closer to her legs as she sits down. Mark nods as he grabs for the seat facing her and sits down himself.\n\n“This place’s fancier than I thought,” Jemma commented. “I feel so underdressed with you around!\n\n“What a lie,” said Mark repeating the line for the fourth time. “You look stunning!”\n\n“Psh, you prob’ly say that to all your dates.”\n\n“Maybe I have, but before you continue we should get something to eat.” Mark raised his hand and caught the attention of a nearby waiter. The kid, probably still in high school, passed them two menus.\n\n“Their pasta here is really good,” Mark suggested.\n\n“Really? Well, if you say so.”\n\n“Sure,” Mark faced the kid taking their orders. “A plate of pasta for the lady, and for me, I guess, I’ll take the lasagne platter.” The kid furiously penned their orders down on a piece of notepad.\n\n“W-what drinks would you be having? Ma’am? S-sir?”\n\n“Just ice water for me, thanks,” Jemma smiled.\n\n“Same for me,” said Mark as he collected Jemma’s and his menu to pass to the waiter. The kid took them and, with a little bow, wobbled away into the kitchens.\n\n“Well, Mr. Second Date Material,” Jemma quipped. “What do you do for a living?”\n\n“I’m a paediatrician,” Mark replied uninterestedly. \n\n“So you’re good with children?”\n\n“Children already? On the first date?”\n\n“Oh, I’m sorry,” with a sarcastic tone, “should I wait for the second date?”\n\n“Should you Ms. Jemma Bean Baby?”\n\n“Drunk,” Jemma intoned. “I was drunk.”\n\n“Sure you were.”\n\nThe night carried on and so did their small talk. The food arrived and was gulfed down sentence after another – their small talk never really evolving into anything more, but this is the longest Mark has been on a date lately so he’s happy about that. That is until he saw him. He was actually wondering how long it’ll take. Jemma said something Mark didn’t quite hear. He was too busy looking at the good-looking mass of muscle heading towards them. The kid waiter that served them early looked as if he was guiding the man – to them?\n\nNot again.\n\n“Um, I-I hope you’re having a great night. The head chef w-would like to – to –,” said the kid nervously, holding two bowls of – something.\n\n“Good evening, you two! I hope you’ve found your stay wonderful. As thanks for your patronage, please have some dessert. On the house!”\n\nThe chef cued the kid with the flourish of a hand; the waiter placed the bowls on the table.\n\n“It’s part of our secret menu,” the chef winked at Jemma. She responded with a blush.\n\nI can’t believe I lost again.\n\nSubmitting to his defeat, Mark dug a spoon into the bowl, scooped up a portion of the dish, and gulfed it down his mouth. Whatever was in there threw away whatever hope he had left for a second date. It was mind-bogglingly delicious. The phrase “an explosion of taste” gets tossed around a lot and Mark was finally realising what that phrase actually meant. He was about to take his second spoonful when Jemma started coughing. And coughing, and coughing, until eventually, there was blood. \n\n“Peanuts – in – dessert?” The words managed to crawl out of her throat.\n\n“Uh – y-yes, shave,” replied the chef.\n\n“A – aller – gi – gic,” Jemma managed.\n\nIt took a whole beat before anyone realised. “Oh shit,” Mark exclaimed pulling out his phone to call an ambulance. “Yes? Hello? We need an ambulance? The Ristorante at North Street. My friend’s allergic to peanuts and she accidentally ate a dish that had some. Yes. Yes. Okay. Thank you.”\n\n“Is there a doctor tonight?” The chef asked the restaurant, to no replies.\n\n“I’m a paedia. I know Jemma isn’t really what you’d take to clinics like mine, but let’s see what we can do. Here – can you help me clear the table?”\n\nThe chef snapped at the nearby waiters. A pair took the dishes away; another pair wiped the table clean.\n\n“Get me a washcloth.”\n\n“Washcloth! Now!” The chef called to the direction of the kitchen and, almost instantly, a busboy came out with a plain white towel.\n\n“Okay Jemma, here. Can you hold it in for a while?” Jemma nods. “That’s great! You’re doing great. Here, wipe your hands. Wouldn’t be nice to get the sticky – sticky blood off your hands? Good, good. Take the towel. Cough into this instead. Okay? Good girl.”\n\n“I’m – not – a-a – little – kid,” Jemma complained.\n\n“I’m a doctor for kids, this is how I’m trained for. Just deal with it.”\nJemma grumbled into the washcloth, but didn’t bother saying anything more. Her eyes started watering and her skin had started developing rashes.\n\n“Hey, sorry for the commotion,” Mark looked at the chef.\n\n“Ah, no. It’s totally my fault,” the other man replied. “Thanks for the help -- ?”\n\n“Mark, the name’s Mark.”\n\n“Nice to meet you, Mark. I’m Leo.”\n\nLeo reached out his hand and Mark took it. If the phrase “an explosion of taste” had a version for the sense of touch, this was it. Mark forgot that you complete handshakes by letting go.\n\nLeo squeezed Mark’s hand. “I can hear the ambulance coming.”\n\nMark panicked and almost threw Leo’s hand away. “H-help me get Jemma out.”\n\nThe two men each took an arm and raised Jemma up. They managed to take her outside just as the medical team exited the ambulance. The professionals took over the situation and propped Jemma onto the bed in the vehicle.\n\n“You better go with them,” Leo gestured.\n\n“Ah, yeah. Wait I – I haven’t paid yet,” Mark replied as he dug his pockets for his wallet.\n\n“No need. I got it. You better go help your friend.”\n\n“I’ll come by again tomorrow. I owe you!” Mark waved at Leo as he ran to the ambulance.\n\n“Sure thing! It’s a date then,” Leo winked.\n\nA small smile creeped it’s way to Mark’s lips. I wonder if that’d count as a second date?\n\n[I STARTED THIS AT 2 IN THE MORNING. IT'S NOW 4 I SHOULD GO TO SLEEP. THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I'VE POSTED HERE CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS VERY MUCH APPRECIATED. BE KIND TO ME PLEASE AND THANK YOU. GOOD NIGHT.]", "Ben pulled the chain from the trunk of his sporty black Del Sol that rumbled a bit too much when it idled. \"What...what's that for?\" She asked. Tiffany was her name but that hardly mattered. She was just a tool for Ben right now, he was always the starter guy, the good sex guy but he could never keep a girl around. He'd tried it all from wishy-washy flower giving act to the crude boyfriend that just gives it so well- ever single time, for the past five years, a total of nearly forty-seven dates, they'd been interrupted by the man these women would go on to marry. He unraveled the chain in a semi-circle outside the restaurant.\n\n\"Ben, I asked you, what the hell is that for?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've been getting...a lot of parking tickets and I'm over that. This meter maid has it-\" he grunted as he yanked the chain a foot closer to the curb. \"The meter maid has it out for me. He knows my car and, I'll be damned if he gets a boot on it again.\"\n\n\"Well, I mean if you really feel that strongly about it-\" Tiffany watched in silence as her date straightened the chain and left his trunk open. After he was satisfied, Ben sprayed a little droplet of Purell on his hands, rubbed them together enjoying the scent of aloe and rubbing alcohol, and opened her door.\n\n\"So why this place? I've barely heard anything about it?\" Tiffany asked, wrapping her arm around Ben's as they walked down the sidewalk. A streetlamp flickered overhead and a rat scurried between two buildings. An orange neon sign flashed a few strides ahead of them with the name \"Genny's Diner\" craftily written in the tubes.\n\n\"It's an old haunt of mine, means a lot. I know the owner...it's a big part of my life. The second date we'll go somewhere a bit more our speed but I wanted you to get a feel for the real me, for the real Ben. Not the punk that gets scammed all the time or the one you remember from high school.\"\n\n\"Oh, you were cute back then. Never thought you'd make it as a programmer, though, and with such a successful suite of apps too.\" Tiffany walked up to the hostess who was ready with their menus. The place was close to deserted, only a couple of the bar stools and another in the far back corner. The wood framed brick walls kept out most of the light, shadowing Ben from Tiffany's few until the waiter lit the candle at the table.\n\n\"So, any past lovers I should be worried about showing up?\"\n\n\"Uh, no, no that would be strange...what should I get, what does your friend make the best?!\" Tiffany adjusted herself in the seat, balancing the menu against the table.\n\n\"The triple decker cheeseburger is his specialty, I tend to stick to the mozzarella sticks, triple fried and triple layered,\" Ben said he kept an ear pointed towards the door, waiting for that lovely snapping sound. Usually, the true love bastards showed up just as their plates were set down but he'd had a few that arrived earlier.\n\n\"What can I get you all to drink?\" the waiter asked on his return visit.\n\n\"I'll have an Elijah Craig on the rocks, what would you like Tiffany?\" Ben asked, looking up at her.\n\n\"A cabarnet please.\"\n\n\"Yes ma'am, any appetizers?\"\n\n\"I think we're ready to order...\" Ben said, locking eyes with Tiffany for confirmation. She shrugged. \"I'll have the trip-dip-moz sticks. Then a chicken sandwich, hold the onions, tomatoes and add some special Ginny mustard.\" The waiter turned to Tiffany who ordered Ben's suggestion, but as a half portion. The full had more meat than any human should devour in a day- two pounds. Most of this would go home for her no doubt.\n\nThey sat talking small talk- mostly about the changes since high school and the men and women they knew way back when. Ben had a separate group from Tiffany's for obvious reasons but they seemed to just be on each other's periphery. Ben had delved into the high school alumni dating pool a few weeks back and had run into quite a few members of his class- mostly stealing away his dates.\n\nThe waiter brought the plates only minutes after the drinks arrived, that was the beauty fo Ginny's Diner- it was fast, it was fresh and it was dirt cheap. This time he'd be ready for whatever true love bastard came at him.\n\nAs they chewed and cut, Ben became more and more anxious, he'd never had to wait this long for the date to be ruined by some white knight fool. He got up to use the bathroom three times just to check the bear trap in his trunk but no it was still free and ready. One of the apps he'd designed monitored other smart phones approaching him, especially that fit a certain demographic but there was nothing new on the radar. He had to face facts, this beautiful blonde ex-field hockey player he'd known for most of his life might be his true love.\n\nRounding the corner from the bathroom, he finally got what he'd been expected, Tiffany twisting some hair at the man he called his friend, the Ginny of Ginny's diner. He was a dad bod having miscreant from their high school. Ben clinched his fist, walking with a purpose now. \"So, I told Ben- hey man, just shake it off he...oh he replied with the girliest shoulder shake I've ever seen!\" They erupted into laughter as Ginny wobbled his shoulders about like two dying fish.\n\n\"Tiffany...\" Ben started, \"I can't believe you'd choose him over me!\" He belted, slamming his fist on the counter.\n\n\"Nah, Ben that ain't gonna happen,\" Ginny said, tossing a rag over his shoulder. \"This one's your true love after she gets to know the real you 'course.\" Ginny finished.\n\n\"Why's that?\" Ben said, holding the fist on the table.\n\n\"I don't swing that way, man.\" With that, Ginny walked back to the kitchen, leaving Ben to sort out his crazy behavior to Tiffany all on his lonesome. They smirked at one another, Ben pulled out his seat and stopped listening for the rattling of chains, instead he was listening for wedding bells off in the distance.", "[A classy italian restaurant. Dimly lit. Nearly empty. A man, CALVIN ELWAY, sits in a sequestered corner. His face and attire is the definition of average white dude out on a first date: he has the short, slicked hair with the button-down white polo and a black blazer. Not distinctly handsome, but not particularly ugly either. He's waiting, eyes scanning the room, clutching his glass.]\n\n[A blonde-haired woman walks in. She's pretty but not obscenely so. Calvin raises his glass and smiles at her. She smiles back.]\n\nSARAH: Hi, are you koolkindkrazy19?\n\nCALVIN: You can just call me by my name.\n\n[Calvin smiles and Sarah sits down. A glass of wine is already set out in front of her.]\n\nSARAH: I'm so sorry I'm late, there was traffic, some jerk cut me off in a BMW, and I just…\n\nCALVIN: No, no. It's fine. I was only waiting like fifteen minutes. You look stunning.\n\nSARAH: And you..look just like your photos! \n\n[She laughs. Calvin laughs too, but without genuine mirth.]\n\nSARAH: I mean, you never know with dating sites. I fully expected an axe murderer.\n\nCALVIN: I mean, it's only a hobby. \n\n[Sarah laughs again. Calvin laughs sincerely this time. Suddenly, a man walks in from the door. He's a smoky, muscled bachelor who looks like an Old Spice commercial – chiseled chin, bulging, and an aura about him that just reeked of sex. He's looking around, casually.]\n\nCALVIN: Fuck. \n\nSARAH: What was that?\n\nCALVIN: I mean, uh, what do you do for work? \n\nSARAH: Oh! I'm an actuary.\n\nCALVIN: That sounds..fulfilling.\n\nSARAH: It actually is, can you believe it? The pay is good, the benefits are amazing and...\n\n[He looks over to the man, who is snapping his fingers and gesturing to a waiter. Sarah is muffled.]\n\nSARAH: blah blah 401k is pretty decent too.\n\n[The bachelor is pointing at the table next to Calvin and Sarah's.]\n\nSARAH:* Are you paying attention?\n\nCALVIN: Hold on a second. \n\n[He stands up and sets the napkin on the table, walking over to the bachelor and the waiter. His arms are crossed as he looks up to the six foot two bachelor.]\n\nCALVIN: Are we gonna have a problem here?\n\nBACHELOR: I'm sorry sir, what?\n\nCALVIN: I know your type. Oh, yes I do. You come into these establishments and rob, that's what you do. Nice folk like me are just sitting, minding our own business, hoping to God tonight they don't beat off into their palms and then your kind shows up. Stealing the spotlight.\n\nBACHELOR: That's very offensive.\n\nCALVIN: Who gives a shit if it's offensive, huh? I don't want you here. Frankly, other bachelors in the room don't want you here either because….because you rig the game for the rest of us! It's just not fair, your ungodly muscles and chiseled chin…\n\n[People start staring. Some have their mouth open. Sarah walks up to Calvin.]\n\nSARAH: What's going on here?\n\nBACHELOR: This guy wants me to get out. He doesn't like my kind.\n\n[Sarah looks at Calvin.]\n\nSARAH: Is that true?\n\nCALVIN: Well, yeah. Look at him. He's unnatural. He clearly – look, you think he's attractive. Certainly more attractive than me. And it's not fair how he can just come in and steal you away..rigging the game for the rest of us. He's just...a fucking rigger, man. A fucking rigger. \n\n[The entire restaurant is silent. Sarah has a face of shock and the bachelor is visibly uncomfortable. The waiter is gesturing towards security, and just then, Calvin realizes the bachelor is black.]\n\nCALVIN: Wait - oh shit - I didn't mean it like that!\n\n[Sarah leans over and takes a glass from a table of four. He splashes wine all over Calvin's face.]\n\nSARAH: It's 2017, Calvin! You fucking racist!\n\nCALVIN: See, no – it's not because he's black! It's because -- \n\nSARAH: Forget it! I don't want to hear it! I'm taking him..\n\n[Sarah grabs the bachelor's hand.]\n\nSARAH: ..on a date instead of you! Atleast he's not degenerate white-trash!\n\nCALVIN: I love black people! I have so many black friends! Look at my phone, I swear there's a Tyrone in there – \n\n[Security grabs Calvin]\n\nCALVIN: Not that all black people are named Tyrone! It's just my friend, uh, Tyrone is - unhand me! I'm not racist!\n\n[Security ushers him to the door.]\n\nCALVIN: Kendrick is my favorite rapper! Will Smith, now that's an actor! Jay-Z! \n\n[Security pushes him out] \n\nCALVIN: (as they close the door) So I'll call you later then?\n", "“Are you ok Danny? You seem distracted?”\n\nDamn right I’m distracted. This is my fifth first date in a month, and I’m getting sick of it. I’ve deliberately chosen a not-that-great restaurant so it will be quiet. This also makes it easier to keep track of poorly disguised waiters who may be ready with a heart-felt speech to ruin my evening. I look away for five seconds and suddenly a broad-shouldered, suspiciously moustached Adonis is there faking a French accent until he can barge me out of the way. \n\n“Sorry Karen, yes I’m fine” I reply, giving a decent attempt at a smile. Don’t blow it now, having got all this nonsense arranged to avoid any theatrics.\n\nTheatrics…theatre…that was the first one. Front row tickets to Starlight Express, holding hands through the second half, and then bloody Rusty skates up to the front of the stage and starts speaking directly to my date. I don’t remember what he said exactly, but every other bugger in there cheered, actually cheered as he zoomed out with her in his arms. I mean never mind my sex life, I’d paid £60 each for those tickets!\n\n“Have you decided what you fancy desert?” I ask, trying to keep things light. But now I’m going through the list in my head; it’s like poking a sore tooth and relishing the shot of pain you get.\n\nSecond….he ran on the pitch at the local rugby game and was tackled by the enormous tight end. She went to his aid dabbed his convenient head wound with a hanky. Where did she even get a damn hanky?!\n\nThird…. Pulled her off the train as the doors closed as Edgeware Road, leaving me riding dumbfounded alone to Paddington\n\nFourth….oh yeah, the wedding. Not our wedding of course, it was a distance relative’s, local church service. The guy bursts in at the “if anyone knows why these two may not be wed be” shouting “stooooppp!!”. It didn’t even make sense, and cousin Cassie made it clear I would not welcome at the reception after that.\n\nSo now, fifth. Surely I can get through this one without white toothed, perfectly coiffured, conveniently able to flag a cab at the perfect moment usurping bastard ruining everything?! \n\nThe waiter comes over, and I peer at him closely. The facial hair looks genuine, plus he’s about 5 foot 3; they’re always at least 6 bloody foot. \n\n“Would madam like to see the Cake Supreme?” he asks, in what must be an authentic Italian accent. \n\nKaren smiles – “yes please”. The waiter dodders off to the kitchen to get this wonder dish. \n\nI allow myself to relax. I need to actually try and enjoy this evening! I lean forward towards my date, mentally flicking through my conversational openers. \n“So…have you ever seen Starlight Express?” I inexplicably ask. Mercifully, Karen briefly looks bemused, but then rallies and replies:\n\n“No, actually I’ve- “\nBefore she can finish, our waiter pops back up. \n\n“Madame, the Cake Supreme” he intones energetically, and motions towards the kitchen.\n\nAn enormous cake is wheeled out – absolutely huge! Ridiculously so – it’s about four and half foot high and two across, it’s so big you could…fit….a….person…..oh my god.\n\nI stand with as much dignity as I can muster, put my chair under, and walk purposely to the exit just as the top of the (now obviously cardboard) cake flies and as chiselled dreamboat unfolds from inside and Karen squeals with surprise and delight. Cue the bloody music, roll the bloody credits. \n\n\n" ]	4
	[WP] There exists a small town where all alternative realities have merged into one, allowing you to interact with people from differing realities. You have just found it.	[ "My name is Donald. Perhaps it is an old-fashioned name, but I like it. And no, I’m not named after that duck from Disney that doesn’t wear pants. \n\nWhen I was young, my father was quite wealthy. He was a real estate investor in New York, who seemed to have a knack for buying the right land at the right time, then selling it off a few months later for massive profits. I was, essentially, born with a silver spoon in my mouth. For the first few years of my life, I was, honestly, a massive jerk. It seemed that because I was rich, I should be able to boss around the “scum” that lived around me. \n\nThis quickly ended however, when my father caught wind of what I was doing. He sat me down and told me that if I didn’t cut this behavior out, then I would be sent off to a military academy. Being as unathletic as I was, I got my act together. Instead of spending my time harassing the neighborhood kids, I spent it working with the poor, and building homeless shelters. If I had to say that anything in my life changed me, it would be this period of my life. I realized that one of the best feelings in life is helping people who you know will never be able to help you back. \n\nMy brothers grew up, unfortunately, quite differently. They became the exact opposite of me, blowing their money on frivolous things, and using it to be able to essentially “rule” their own portions of New York. My father tried to get them into the real estate business, but they soon proved unruly, and without a work ethic they quickly ended up as druggies on the streets, having lost much of my father’s fortune.\n\nI, meanwhile rented a small apartment in southern Manhattan, and set out living a quiet life, with my wife and four kids. One day, in late 2014, however, we decided to head out on a road trip. At first everything was going great, but our car broke down in the middle of nowhere. As my wife stayed with the kids, I trekked a few miles down the road, and arrived at a small town. There was a strange vibe to it. I walked into the first building I saw and asked to use a phone, since mine didn’t have a signal. A waitress, directed me towards the back, where I met a man in a suit.\n\nI could have sworn he was a mirror image of me. When he talked, he sounded exactly the same as me.\n\nHe lent me his phone, and upon ordering tow truck, I handed it back to him. He asked me, “So what do you with your life? I have no idea what I want to do, I’ve brought up half of New York and had three wives, but I’m still not happy.” \nI thought for a moment, before replying, “I’m doing my best to make this country great, perhaps great again. Maybe you could get into politics. After all, the best way to make a change would be to bring the establishment crashing down, would it not?”\n\nThe man’s eyes lit up. He smiled. “Yes, I will make America Great Again.”\n\nThank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, be sure to check out my other stories at https://www.reddit.com/r/WrittenTherapyProject/ \n" ]	1
	[WP] write the epilogue to the story you have always wanted to write.	[ "Sailing into oblivion, it all ends here with each minute cut of attrition. They did it to themselves, you know? Even when they knew they were doing it, they kept going, the endless pursuit of a crushing demise. Gotta keep it together though, that's what he thinks to himself, gotta keep it together because I'm all that's left. \n\nBehind the thickened glass, he knows that even this illusory protective measure will do nothing. It won't stop him from being immolated in that final, burning exhalation. Behind him, the corpses of the other crew, defeated, settle in their final repose. The smell of loosened bowels stings his nose, making his eyes water. \n\nSwiping at the tears, he cracks a can of beer, slurping it without heeding. The rivulets stain his filthy uniform. He still has Veronica's blood on it, where he helped her finish up because she was too weak to do it herself. \n\nHere it comes, the heat is intensifying like you couldn't imagine, its fierce intent. The smell of bacon frying, and he knows it's he and the corpses. He closes tired eyes and smiles a secret smile, meant only for him, the last one. \n\n\"I made it, I won.\" The last words ever spoken by anyone. ", "I know I said, “and all was well.” But that was a lie. \n\nGeorgie came back to the city after rehab, and there was one more death. Hers. She stood in the bathtub and viciously slashed her wrists, just like she slashed all those throats. I couldn’t understand what had driven her to do all those things, but I was thankful it was over. \n\nI felt my head pounding when I woke up the morning after her funeral. Vodka and sadness do not mix. Vodka and me do not mix. I sat up on my bed, and grabbed another bottle of vodka from the kitchen. Hopefully my parents never find out about this. \n\nI had applied to eight colleges, got accepted to six, and decided to go to none. College seemed so trivial after all the things that went down. My parents had allowed me to stay a year at home when I told them I wanted to be a writer. Growing up in a family of authors does have its benefits. \n\nWith a sigh, I cradled the bottle and walked into the bathroom. Time to start another great f*cking day of working on my non-existent novel. I sat on the closed toilet lid and started chugging the bottle in my hand, too busy with my booze to see what was happening right outside the door.\n\nI closed my eyes and leaned back, the last thing I saw was the black shadow at the door. \n", "I made it. Standing beside me was her. What still amazes me is to think that if it weren't for the emerald stone, things would have turned out differently. Here we were, on top of a mountain in Italy. \n\nEmily's funeral had been yesterday. Speaking of her funeral, Jassline and I had to get back down to town. Tomorrow was the day that all of Emily's belongings would be carefully sorted through. \n\nAfter her things were cleaned, her house would be put up for sale. All that would remain of her was her stone necklace.\n\n\"Ready to leave now, Mason?\" Jassline asked me. \n\n\"Yeah, let's go.\"\n\nAnd with that, we started our trek back home. The day had already darkened a bit. As we came back into town, we passed the cemetery. It was a little disorienting to pass the cemetery after the recent events. But the cemetery was bathed in the light from the last rays of sun. ", "As 38-J stood before the firing squad he was surprised at how calm he felt. His thoughts drifted back to Helen. His discovery of the record player. His band. 46-C, 51-K had both been executed days before him, he was unsure if 24-L had been killed when they raided the club or if he was still out there somewhere. If it was the latter he would be found soon enough. He hoped 24 died well, or at least quickly. \n\nHe heard the crunch of the warden's boots on the gravel as she walked towards him. Measured and proud. She was one of the ones who enjoyed it, a true believer. You could always tell when they enjoyed it. \"Does the accused have anything to say?\" The blindfold was hot. He could hear a smirk in her voice. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of cursing her. \n\"I lived well. I had music and I knew happiness.\" Though he couldn't see her he hoped that she was dissatisfied with his last words. He heard he spin on her heel and walk wordlessly back towards the firing squad. The breeze carried the smell of cut grass and dogwood flowers. He heard the warden call for the executioners to aim.", "Here we are again, sitting on the curb of this deserted street - Pirates Alley. You look so much older now, and I guess I do too.\n\n\"Is there anything else you want to ask me Aurora,\" you ask without ever looking up from the street with your only eye.\n\nI breathe deeply before I respond, realizing the full weight of what I am about to say. \"Yes. It's true, then? I am nothing without him,\" I admit. And he does not respond immediately. Both of us still staring somewhere on the ground, so very caught up in our thoughts.\n\n\"Aurora, everything in this life has a counter part - a karmic balance. Without good, evil would not exist. But without evil, no one could ever appreciate good. We have a fundamental need to feel both, to understand both, and then to choose.\" \n\n\"You see only black and white.\"\n\n\"You are the light - he is the dark. Female - male. Good and evil.\"\n\n\"But a true balance requires both in each of us. You must learn to feel and understand the dark side, understand it's motivation. You simply cannot fully appreciate the other until you have experienced it's counterpart.\"\n\nI could not believe what he was telling me. \"How can you be encouraging this,\" I asked. \n\nHe looked confused. \"What do you think I am encouraging? I am not encouraging evil behavior. I am asking you to consider the motivations of what led them to it, what it feels like to engage in it and appreciate the fact that if it were not for your evil counterpart - no one would appreciate your goodness.\"\n\n\"Tell me you understand this Aurora, if it weren't for him, the man they all hate - no one would love you.\"\n\n\"...and for that, I am asking you to show him some love and understand this man.\"\n\nThe grubby old man with one eye was always expecting the best of me, but I knew what that other eye had cost him and the wisdom he had gained. He put his hand on mine and spoke once again, \"Aurora, will you do as I ask?\"\n\nI covered my own hand over his, \"Yes, Odin. I will,\" I promised." ]	5
	[WP] As a child, you never noticed anything strange about your shadow. But now that you're going through puberty, you're beginning to realize that it's definitely not yours, and your shadow has noticed as well.	[ "Happy Shadow;\n\nAs a child you played with your shadow, your imaginary friend, and didn't think anything of the fact that when you grinned it was grin back. It wasn't strange to you to see that spot of light show up for the mouth. Why would it be? That's what a smile looks like on the cartoons and your shadow was always watching them with you!\n\nAnd why should you have cared that your shadow never fell where it was supposed to? That it was there with you even in the dark? Why would it be anywhere else, it was your shadow after all. Only as your schooling continued, as you began to grow and you learned about the play of light across bodies, studied art and got docked for improper shading did you begin to wonder...\n\nWhy is the world so unfair? Doesn't everyone have a shadow that just does what it wants? Then you paid attention. You saw the truth. Only your shadow disobeyed. Only your shadow played. Only your shadow realized that something was wrong. Your shadow stopped smiling with you on that day. It seemed unhappy now, it started pulling away and that was disconcerting as well. You had never before been disconnected from your shadow...\n\nOn your 18th birthday your shadow left but you never got a regular one. FINE! So be it! You didn't need your special shadow anyway! You didn't need the only friend that had stayed by your side...\n\nAt 25 your life is starting to feel normal. A little bit of therapy goes a long way to make someone forget that the strange smiling shadow was only a little more than their imagination. The friends help too. So what if you keep catching a glimpse of shadowy people out of the corner of your eye? It's just a symptom of your illness, the doctor says so.\n\nThe only problem is they're always eating other people's shadows... and the people are never the same after it is gone." ]	1
	[WP] You awake in a white room, in the middle of it is a button. It's labeled "do not push". You look out the window, you're on Mars.	[ "It had been around a week since I had awoken in my new home, the white room so I called it. It wasn't too bad, food would appear every 3 hours in front of what I was guessing was the door. I couldn't really tell if it was a door though as the whole room seemed to be made out of one solid piece with 3 windows on 3 of the different sides of the room. Of course I got bored every now and then, but the time seemed to fly by faster than normal so it didn't really have a large effect. And when I say time flew, I mean it absolutely whizzed by. Like I said, I had been in this room for about a week now, but it felt like way less than that. To me it had seemed to be around two full days. It was actually kind of cool watching the sun move at a recognizable pace and seeing the beautiful sunset over the mountains to the left of me, as well as the rise in the valleys to the right. From what I could tell I wasn't on Earth and I could only guess I was on Mars since I could see 3 moons circulating the sky a couple times a day. Now this all seemed a little weird to me. Actually it seemed really fucking weird. But, the weirdest part was the pole in the middle of the room with a simple white button labeled \"do not push\". Now, I planned to assess the situation and determine my options, and for the last hour I had finally come to the conclusion that pushing that ominous button was the only option I had. At this point I was bored out of my goddamned mind, and really couldn't think of anything better to do, so uttering a small \"fuck it\" to myself I finally manned up and pushed it. As soon as I did the ground started to rumble around me, and as I looked out of the window to my right the first colours other than orange started to appear. The mountains were overwhelmed by swirls of red, blue, yellow, and all of the colors under the not so bright sun I now resided under. After around 20 seconds of this colour appearing my focus started to go away, almost like I had stood up to quickly or something, and my vision did what you would expect an old 50's television to do. It all just snapped into a 2D line, and I awoke yet again in another white room, but this time surrounded what I could only describe as a pure being of energy. the being moved by me, no, it moved through me, and I heard a voice in my mind. A voice that said \"Your test is over Luke, you shall now begin the next phase.\"", "“Hello?” My voice echoed in the plain white room as I sat up and my feet touched the floor. I was in a room that was nearly empty, barring the bed I was sitting on, a button with a sign, and a drawn window. Next to the button, the small sign read ‘do not push.’ Considering the strange nature of where I had woken up moments ago, I decided to follow the instructions of the sign. No one had answered my call yet.\n\n“Anyone? I’m Jessie, and I don’t know how I got here.” Fear started to flutter through my stomach and I swallowed nervously. There were no doors to the room, so the only other chance of gaining some information was the window, currently drawn with thick white blinds. I walked at a measured pace to the window, fighting to keep my nerves in line.\n\nTaking another deep breath to prepare myself as I reached the window, I threw back the curtains quickly. The deep breath caught in my throat as I stared out at an ocean of alien red sand. In the distance, the sun was sitting in a crook in the mountains. It was impossible to tell if it was rising or falling at this time, but shadows stretched far across the surface of the planet.\n\n“Mars?” My mind tried to grasp what was happening in front of me, but was just coming up with disbelief. “Impossible, we don’t have the technology yet.” I turned from the untouched vista outside the window to the button. \n\nLarge and red, it sat upon a white column, the sign beside it perfectly clear and concise in the tumult of emotions I was swimming through to come to some form of a logical reason. The silence permeating the room began to saw on my rapidly fraying nerves, and I called out once more.\n\n“Seriously, if anyone is listening I need to talk to you. Please tell me what's happening.” Holding my breath as I waited for an answer, I tensed my body as tight as I could, straining for any sound possible. No response came, but anger leapt to defend my terror of the moment. “Fuck this.”\n\n“Ok, I have no idea where I am, but it looks like Mars. There’s no door to get out, only a button that’s clearly meant to tempt me to push it.” My voice rambled out of me, desperately trying to fill the silence with my thoughts. “Do I push it? End whatever test this is? Is this a dream? It’s the only possible option right? Nothing else makes sense. People pinch themselves to wake up from dreams right?” I knew the answer, but if I pinched myself and didn’t wake up, I didn’t know what would happen next.\n\nBlood trickled from my forearm as I dug my nails in as deeply as I could, not caring how much it hurt. I pinched desperately, even as I didn’t wake up. After nearly a full minute of pinching, I pulled my now red fingernails from my forearm. Another expletive escaped my mouth. This wasn’t a dream.\n\nI gave up the pretence of calm as I went back to the bed, my rapid footfalls screaming in the quiet. Throwing the mattress from the frame, I searched for any clue of what put me into this moment. No drawers adorned the bed, and the mattress was one solid piece. Not able to tear it, I threw it across the room angrily. Bouncing off the window, it landed with a dull pathetic thud. Following soon after were the blankets, falling gracefully into a heap more or less on the upturned mattress. The rest of the room received my desperate eye, but all there was in the room was the bed, button and window.\n\n“Answer me!” My hoarse bark echoed, and blood pounded in my temples. My arm also pulsed, still bleeding lightly from my nail’s attack. “I will push this button. I swear I will!” A manic laugh bubbled from my throat, and I had to forcibly stop myself from immediately following through with the threat. The button called to me softly, only gritting my teeth and starting a countdown stopped my swift forcible response to it.\n\nRetreating to the empty bed frame, I sat down on the hard surface to think. The button was the answer to this, whether the answer was good or bad. I would give ‘them’ another 120 seconds to decide to respond to me or I would push their button. There had to be a ‘them’, without any opposition, this was all random and meaningless. There had to be meaning.\n\nReaching sixty seconds, I ran out of patience. The button let out a soft whoosh as my palm pounded it into submission. A large, nearly insane smile spread across my face as I stepped back from the depressed button. I caught my reflection in the window, the sun now below the mountains. My eyes caught me off-guard. The reminded me of an animal caught in a trap, triumphant at it’s desperate fight. What had I done?\n\nBeeping brought me back to the button. It slowly rose to it’s starting position, the beeping coming from some indiscernible location in the room. As soon as it clicked into place, the sound of wind began to whistle through the room. The window had begun to slide open.\n\nWithin seconds, my lungs began to burn. I felt as if I was drowning, no breath deep enough to satisfy my needs. Desperately I pounded on the button, hoping for the window to close once more. The window continued it’s deadly ascent, sliding into the top of the frame. I felt a blood vessel pop in one eye, and the right half of my vision disappeared into darkness. \n\n“Help me…” I tried to call out, but my words were barely a whisper as I collapsed onto the floor, dying in the near vacuum. \n\n* * * * * * * * * * * * * \n\n“Pod twenty-four is now complete. That leaves us with only four remaining. Less than fifteen percent remaining after a measly thirty minutes? Looks like you won the bet, Scaarlax. I think the standard of fifty percent after two hours is too much for such primitive beings.” The large, tentacled creature pulled a lever, watching on a monitor as the room’s contents, including the body of the earthling, were pushed into a hole that had appeared on the wall opposite the window. Once the room was empty, the being pushed the lever back to it’s starting position.\n\n“I’m honestly not happy to win the bet, Tarrin. I had hoped they would succeed. Fresh blood in the Intergalactic Council is always good. How long do the primary creatures on the planet have to wait until they can be tested again?” The second creature, standing on four swarthy legs, reached with two slender talons for a device sitting on a table. It slid it’s talons along the surface of the device, skimming data flashing across the screen. “One thousand of it’s own cycles. Ah well. Shall we void the unfinished rooms, carry on as soon as possible to the next system?” \n\n“Agreed, my partner is making Pnarthaxian stew for supper, I want to get home to help slaughter the newborn egglets.” Something akin to a smile twisted across Tarrin’s face, and it’s tentacles rapidly began pulling levers, emptying the remaining rooms.\n\nLandator" ]	2
	[WP] The Bible is a D&D campaign where God is the DM	[ "\"Alright, I'll try to not sin,\" Adam said. Right now, he and Eve were in a little intermission between the big stuff.\n\n\"Why can't I play?\" said a voice from the corner.\n\n\"You had your chance, Lucifer! Ya done a bad, and that isn't anyone's fault but yours!\" chastised God.\n\n\"Oh, so it was my fault ya fuckin rigged the dice so I'd roll a goddamn one for attack roll!\"\n\n\"You were trying to kill me, Lucifer.\"\n\n\"And now I can't kill anyone?!? What is this, real life?\"\n\n\"Anyways, roll for religion.\"\n\n\"Alright,\" Adam said, praying for a good number, \"20!\"\n\n\"Hey, nice job!\" \n\n\"I'm going to go wander through the garden,\" Eve said.\n\n\"Alright. Along the way, you see a snake. He tells you about how delicious the apples are.\"\n\n\"Hmm. I'll take one for Adam and head back.\"\n\n\"You head back and Adam sees the apple. What do you do?\"\n\n\"I'll eat the apple, why not?\" Adam said.\n\n\"You seem to have forgotten the rules of the garden. But it's too late as you finish off the apple. Get OUT of the garden, NOW. YOU'RE DONE.\"\n\nBoth Adam and Eve were forcefully pushed into the corner with Lucifer.\n\n\"What the hell, man!\" Adam exclaimed.\n\n\"You broke the rules.\"\n\n\"What the fuck?!? We ate, and that's a some sort of sin?!?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Next thing you'll be telling us is that you hate gays, despite you supposed to love everyone despite who they really are!\"\n\n\"Oh boy...\"\n\n\nI have NO clue what it says in the Bible, so I just went with what I know. This is one of my first WP's, so feel free to tell me anything I could improve on." ]	1
	[WP] You are a rebellious minor. In a hope to reform your behavior, your well-meaning parents send you to a religious camp for the summer. Inevitably, the camp holds a terrifying secret.	[ "Jacob sat on the couch as he stared deeply into his phones screen. He can hear his parents talking but he does not care for what they have to say. \"Jacob, are you listening to me?\" John said very sternly. The amount of anger is slowly building inside him at his own son's inability to comprehend what he has done. \"Jacob, how did you think this was going to play out? Did you think you and your friends would get a good laugh? You and your friends bullied that poor girl to the point of no return. She will not grow up. She will not spend summer with her friends. Her parents will never see her again. Are you listening to me! What do you have to say for yourself?!\". Jacob looked up from his phone with an evil smirk. \"She always said the world would be a better place without her. I didn't know she would actually do it. Oh well, the world is a shitty place. She wouldn't have liked it here anyways.\" Christie gasped and clasped her hand over her mouth bursting into tears. John put his arm around her. \"Christie, I have just decided. Jacob, I am going to be arranging to have you sent to New Horizons.\" Jacob dropped his phone and stood, staring at his father. His father has his full attention now. \"You can't mean it. That place is for religious nut jobs!\" John stood, towering over his son. \"You will watch your mouth, young man, or I promise you will regret it.\" Jacob stormed off to his room. \"Start packing, Jacob. This is happening!\".\n\nIt was a long drive to the camp. About 6 hours from their home in Midland, Texas. The entire ride John could not believe the judge actually agreed to this. Almost. The judge will reduce his community service by half if this program proves to be successful. And why wouldn't it be successful? New Horizon is always boasting about a 100% success rate. That seems a bit extreme but we will soon find out. Jacob just sat there. Not a single word. I can tell he's upset but I honestly do not care. After speaking with the head counselor and dropping Jacob off we began our 6 hour journey home. It was quiet the entire way. My wife did not say a single word. Neither did I.\n\nThe head counselor was tall and lanky. He had a funny smell. I couldn't tell if it was bad cologne or too much body spray. \"Jacob, my name is Mr. Leed. Welcome to New Horizons. You are here because you have led a sinful life and your parents wish for you to be cleansed of your sinful behavior. There are a lot of activities here to teach you how to survive in today's world, Jacob. With the help of our counselors and the grace of Jesus Christ you will be a fully functioning man, sins washed away, ready to lead a long and fulfilling life by the end of our program. Let's take a walk so I can show you around.\" \n\nJesus Christ I thought the tour would never end. This schedule is ridiculous that it is a wonder people don't kill themselves from the absurdity of it.\n\n6am - 7am Breakfast\n7am - 8am Prayer Reflection\n8am - 10am Bible Study\n10am - 12pm Team Building Exercises\n12pm - 1pm Lunch\n1pm - 2pm Prayer Reflection\n2pm - 4pm Team Building Exercises\n4pm - 5pm Bible Study\n\n6 days a week for 2 months I may as well kill myself now. Otherwise I am just going to be bored to death. I have been shown my room and started settling in when another boy walks in. \"Excuse me, who the hell are you and why are you in my room?\" I stood there staring at him. He was a small boy with blue eyes and blonde hair. \"I'm Jacob, your new roommate. I just got here today.\" He stared at me for a moment and smiled. \"I'm Seth. But don't worry. I won't be your roommate for long. I plan on getting kicked out of here. There is no way they will let me stay after I do what I have planned. It's not a drawn out plan nor a complicated one. Just an act I intend to perform. Make sure you're at tomorrows 10am team building bullshit.\" As I begin unpacking my bags I asked him what he has in store for tomorrow. He only looked at me and smiled. I thought to myself this place might be fun after all.\n\nThe morning came sooner than I expected. Wake up was at 5am to allow us to shower and eat breakfast. Certain hygiene practices were strictly enforced. No facial hair was authorized and hair was to be neat and trim. If you refused they would sit you in a barbers chair and shave your hair clean as though we were in a military camp. Breakfast was not bad. If, of course, you can get past the prayer. I thought I was going to starve to death waiting for this endless prayer to stop. Today I missed the morning prayer reflection as I sat through an initial reception orientation. 2 hours of rules and regulations. They continuously remind us that if we do not comply with their rules there would be consequences. They said that in the end everyone complies and there is no use in resisting the program. Before starting the ending prayer Mr. Leed came in front and only had one sentence. \"Everyone complies with the help of Jesus Christ and his disciples.\" When he said this I felt goosebumps crawl up my arms and the back of my neck. What does he mean \"his disciples\"?\n\nWe were finally released around 9:45. Just in time to make it to Seth's performance. I found the group sitting outside in a circle whispering in a circle where I proceeded to sit. They call it a whisper circle. A whisper is told to the first person and they proceed to tell this whisper to the next and then the next. Once the last person hears the whisper he stands and says what he has heard. And then it is compared to the original statement. The counselor explained that this is what has caused people to fall from the grace of Christianity. The 'Truth' is passed from person to person and becomes twisted, contorted, and poisoned with falsities by the time it reaches the end. He explained this is why we should take the 'Truth' from the one True book. The Bible. After about 5 minutes I met the gaze of Seth who was sitting across from me. He looked at me, smiled, and nodded. I nudged the person sitting next to me and said \"watch this\" with a grin on my face. The boy looked at me and said \"be silent\". I looked at him in the eyes. They were pitch black. I could not break this stare. It felt as though he was looking into my very soul through my eyes. Looking back at his I felt a very dark presence. I looked back up and saw Seth stand up from where he was sitting. \"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please! I have come to a great realization. I am a sinful person that has wreaked havoc at the expense of my parents. But I am here to strip away all my sins and be washed in the blood of the lamb!\" At his own verbal queue Seth began to take his clothes off. Now I am very confused. What does he intend to do? Holy shit he's in his underwear! Now I'm starting to laugh. \"I have so much evil trapped inside of me. I didn't know how to get rid of it. Until now.\" He pulls off his underwear and starts going to town on himself. The counselor has not budged a single time. At what point is he going to put an end to this? Seth has now stopped his unspeakable act and has started dancing around and started skipping off back towards the living quarters, naked buttocks shaking in the sun. The whole time he repeatedly proclaimed to have washed himself of his sinful ways. Well, that was a spectacle but I was expecting more of a reaction out of the counselors. I mean this boy just danced naked and masturbated in front of other boys and girls. He might not just get kicked out. He might go away as a sex offender. \n\nActivities were cancelled for the rest of the day for our group and we were sent to pray and self reflect. After the days end Seth and I had a good laugh about his performance. \"That's not quite what I had in mind but I'm pretty sure there is no way they will let you stay here after what you have done.\" Seth was laying back on his bed staring upwards with a smile. I'll be out of here as soon as my parents get here. We ended the day with dinner and talks of what we planned to do when we got back home. Seth passed out before me snoring like a train.\n\nI woke up from the sound of my door closing. I swung my legs out of bed and got up to use the restroom. I looked over and saw Seth missing. I called out his name. Nothing. I walked into the hallway and caught a glimpse of him being carted off by 2 larger men. What the fuck is going on here? Once they were outside I ran out after them trying to stay in the shadows. It was a lot easier to sneak around with no shoes. I could feel what I was stepping on. I was close enough to see Seth. He looked terrified. I followed them to a building in the back of the camp where they rushed him inside and shut the door hard. I was approaching the window when I heard the scream. It was an ear piercing scream that I had only heard girls let out before. I fell into a full sprint to the building and peered in the window. There was a man standing dressed all in black standing at an altar chanting some words. I could see a black cloud of smoke arising from beneath his cloak. It was not acting as smoke does, though. This smoke had purpose. It was twisting and moving as a funnel. To the left and up. It seemed to peer over Seth, looking down on him. And then I saw it. I saw a face at the head of the smoke. I gasped louder than I expected. It looked at me. This face looked at me. Staring at me for a moment before violently forcing itself into Seth through his mouth and nose. It was over in less than a minute. He held his head down as I stared through the window at him. I saw him begin to slowly raise his head and face me. His eyes were the same as the boy from the whisper circle. Black. Empty." ]	1
	[WP] When the prophecy foretold of someone Pure of Heart saving the world, they never specified Pure Good or Pure Evil	[ "World War III left the Earth in ruins, so much so that when the Centauri Alphas arrived, there was no way for the governments of the world to mount any kind of resistance. This turned out to be a great blessing.\n\nAfter conquering the G5 nations that had once been the G20, the Centauri deployed a waive of matter transmuting machines that ate all the pollution in the air, in the ocean and on the land. It turned it into gold, silver, zinc, copper and helium among other things. \n\nAfter reducing the pollution on earth to zero, they turned their machines on our buildings. After each one was consumed, a new building was grown in it's place. The biorganic structures were the most comfortable places to live or work that anyone had ever seen. The home models were all about to accommodate our various gadgets and gizmos and furniture.\n\nWhile all of that was going on, they instituted economic practices, and public works programs that created millions of jobs across the planet in a single day.\n\nLess than a decade later, Earth formally joined The Galactic Imperial Coalition, otherwise known as \"The Empire Without An Emperor\", because the Galactic Imperial Coalition had voted to absolve the Imperial Throne and it's office 5 thousand years years ago. \n\nHistorians love to talk about how different things might have been if the war hadn't been ignited. If the US hadn't invaded Syria. If China hadn't sided with them. If Russia hadn't attacked China. The combined might of the world super powers prior to the 3rd Great War would have launched a devastating attack against the Ambassador ships. We wouldn't likely have won, but it would have dragged on and cost a lot of lives. It might have discouraged The Empire from taking us in as a Member Planet. They might have instead opted to turn us into a \"resource rock\".\n\nThere's still arguments about whether or not to build a statue memorializing the last US President. The one who started the war. Some claim it'll never happen. Others are sure it's just a matter of time. Personally, I find it funny that his one saving grace, the one good part of his legacy, blundering humanity into salvation." ]	1
	[WP] It is the last day before all humans hibernate for the winter, but you still need more time.	[ "I'm so late! I haven't even prepared my bag for when we wake up. Everyone is in their cocoons, made of the most comfortable synthetic silk. Not all of us has the actual money for real silk, and I don't think that's really that necessary. Some \"old folks\" still go to bed and just cuddle under their blankets. They think the cocoons are \"too animal-like\", they take away our \"humanity\". I tried both, and trust me, the cocoons are way more comfortable.\n\nBut I needed to try out this new experiment. Was risky, sure, especially since I only had about 2 hours before the cold rush came by. But imagine if I pulled this off! A portable cocoon that was self-heating and self-sustaining? That could mean the end of the hibernation era! Sure, the ice age would last for generations, but at least the achievements of mankind would still progress!\n\n\"Hurry up! The weatherman said the cold rush could come anywhere between 2 and 4 hours, but that doesn't mean it couldn't come earlier. Your father's been asleep for 4 hours now! He got everything extra, we can sort your food later!\"\n\n\"I know mom, but I'm so close to finishing this. I'll go to sleep in just a moment, don't worry\"\n\nShe went to sleep. I noticed her cocoon wasn't well-closed, so I finished pulling the zipper. Of course she wouldn't freeze just from that small opening, otherwise my dad would die under those thick, but not completely encapsulated blankets.\n\nI hear a sudden rush of wind through the cracks on the wooden door, and a lot of branches hitting the window. The time had come. But if I stopped now, so close, the motor would freeze and I'd lose all my progress. A voice on the back of my head kept begging me to let go of it and just sleep. We'll have time again in the summer. But we can't do this all in just 3 months, said the other voice in my head. It was now or never. I kept working on it. I knew it was risky, and I knew I was putting mom's trust on me to the test. But imagine if I pulled this off! I bet I'd get a Nobel prize or something. That'd be awesome!\n\nI crank the motor. Nothing. Another strong wind rush hits the door. I crank it again, nothing. An even stronger rush. Third time's the charm, here we go!\n\nThe door is violently opened by the intense winds from the cold wasteland out there. As the strong, cold winds hit my face, in a fraction of a second, as everything went slow-mo, I could hear the motor finally starting. But it was too late. I feel the cold.\n\nWait. I feel the cold. I feel it, and I do so alone. But I'm still here. It's as cold as it's ever been, but I haven't froze to death yet. Maybe it takes a while? But everyone said it was instantaneous. I then thought that maybe it was just a cold breeze, not the cold rush itself, but the alarms had been going off for the last 10 minutes. That was, indeed, it. I sat in one of our old, wooden chairs, staring at the now wide-open door, as the snow comes in, and as the shaking sound of the electric motor echoed through the house. I put three heavy coats and step outside. I bring my portable cocoon with me, even though I'm not using it.\n\nOh, dear fate. I guess I'll win a Nobel prize for finding that we no longer need hibernation. I guess I won't need this machine anymore. Time to wake the others.\n\n> I'm feeling super rusty, hit me with all your criticism" ]	1
Maybe it's a bad idea but I wanted to try something different :/	[WP] Pick a song - happy, sad, epic, you choose - then write a prompt with it in mind for us to read with the song in the background.	[ "I picked the song \"Hallelujah,\" specifically the version by Pentatonix. The lines indicate each of the four verse-chorus combinations, and the final paragraph is the last refrains of them singing \"Hallelujah.\" I hope you enjoy :)\n\n----\n\nShe sang for him gently, her voice echoing off the mountainside, forming secret chords that hovered for a moment before disappearing into the dark night. He listened reverently, taking in her voice as it rose and fell, his heart swelling and deflating as the melody took him to another place. He usually couldn't stand music; the entertainers in his father's court, with their overdramatic crooning, set him on edge. But her…her voice made him want to cry words of praise from the mountaintops, to no one in particular. She was just his father's ward, he knew, but she might one day be his bride. And it baffled him to learn that he loved her. They were so young. The night was new. Her voice crescendoed. And he loved her.\n\n----\n\nHe stumbled upon her bathing in the river, glistening and naked, running her hands through her long, dark hair. He was overcome by her beauty, the way the moonlight shimmered on her skin. The girl his father had taken in–the woman, now–spotted him and laughed playfully. \"Come with me,\" she said, her voice a low whisper. She led him through a secret back entrance to his father's estate, into a long-abandoned kitchen. Before he had a chance to say a word, she kissed him, a long kiss, building in passion and intensity. Through the long night, he felt as though she was breaking him. No longer holding back, words of love and praise left his lips. He loved her so. She had been his, but she was leaving. And he longed for her.\n\n----\n\nMany years later, she returned to the place she'd grown up, the estate she'd been sent to as a child, the home of the man she'd been betrothed to before she left, abruptly. How long it's been since I've been here, she thought, I've walked these floors a thousand times, yet it seems like lifetimes ago. She stepped outside onto the terrace, and spotted his family's flag on the marble archway, its once proud green and gold hanging in tatters. It was a cold and broken symbol of their failure and loss, of all that had changed since they were children here. She was foolish to believe that her love could save her country, just as he was foolish to believe his love could save her. But they were wrong, and now her country and their love lay in ruins. She had loved him, but he betrayed her. \n\n----\n\nShe found him sitting by the river, his back to her. Her once-lover was staring at something unseen in the distance. She drew her bow, silent as the night. If there was anything she'd learned over the years, it was how to shoot somebody, even in the dead of night. She watched as he slowly stood up and turned around, facing his inevitable fate. He didn't cry out, nor did he beg her to lower her bow, to see the light. They both were cold and broken, the years of war and betrayal had shattered their love like crystalline glass. She released her bow. The arrow flew through the night, striking true. She stepped across the grass, gently, lovingly, silent in the moonlight as she knelt down and remembered…\n\nHe was her friend. He was her lover. He had been her betrothed and she was to be his lady. And then she left him, and he betrayed her. He betrayed his country. The weight of it all, their story, her flight, his treason, seemed to spiral around the pair. The wind picked up, blowing her hair in every direction. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. His life spilled out onto the ground. She touched his hair, she closed his eyes. She lay her bow on top of him, gently, with a lover's touch. With care, she sent both the man and the weapon that killed him floating down the river. As they disappeared from sight, she breathed a single, broken word: \"Hallelujah.\"" ]	1
	[WP] One day, in a busy city street, everyone around you turns to ash in an instant. Unknowingly, you are disintegrating everyone you think about, as soon as they enter your awareness. How do you react, and how does the world react to you?	[ "David tapped on the glass. The woman inside made no attempt to respond, as was expected. Wires hooked up to her brain dangled from the table she was ling on, as what looked like countless needles punctured her skin. Each needle contained enough tranquilizer to shut down her brain function, leaving her in a coma. Even so, David could still feel a slight burning sensation on his skin, as if somehow she knew he was watching. Technically, to be on the safe side, he probably shouldn't be here, but then again, if he wanted to be on the safe side, he would have killed her some time ago.\n\n“How is Denise?” asked a voice behind him. He turned around, to see his wife, Ammy, staring at him, and then behind him, at her niece on the table. He briefly checked the monitor. No signs of any brain activity, or awareness. Nodding to himself, he peered into the blue eyes of his wife, and tut-tutted.\n\n“You really shouldn't be here. It's against regulation for personnel to be near such a high-level biohazard. And, in your case, your voice might wake her up. If she even thinks about you, you'd be dead,” said David. His wife rolled her eyes, and took out a cigarrette (which was also against regulation).\n\n“You've doped her up sufficiently, haven't you? She shouldn't feel a damn thing,” asked Ammy. Her eyes looked over her niece flatly, without any emotion. She crouched down to Denise's eye level, and whispered something in the girl's ear.\n\nDavid tensed up. Ammy looked back, grinning.\n\n“See? It's like talking to a stone,” said Ammy. After taking another deep puff from her cigarrette, Ammy added “Did you figure out what's wrong with her yet?”\n\n“No. It doesn't seem to be biologically based. It's like a thought virus. Once she gains an emotional attachment to something, it melts into ash. At least, that's what I theorize. It's very difficult to run tests,” said David. His wife rolled her eyes.\n\n“I don't care how difficult it is. Figure it out. Maybe we can find some use for her. The government probably has some military--”\n\n“Use? Ammy, this is your niece we're talking about!” said David. \n\n“I know that. But if we can't cure her, we're gonna have to do something with her. She can't exactly be a barista,” said Ammy. \n\n“Do you even care about her?” asked David.\n\n“Of course I do. Especially now, with her, erm, gift,” said Ammy. With that, Ammy kissed David, and walked out of the basement, leaving David alone with the girl. \n\nDavid thought for a few minutes. Then he made some slight adjustments to the tranquilizer levels, and then went upstairs for a nap.\n\nDenise's eyes flew open. David tried to speak, but his tongue began to tingle, and his mouth tasted of ash.\n\n“Oh no. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry”, said Denise. David realized this was the first time he had ever heard her voice, and that it sounded nice. And then his tongue evaporated into ash.\n\nFive days later\n\nIt took five days for Denise to walk up to the top of the mountains. Animals weren't affected by her abilities, so she was able to find food. Not that she needed to eat, or drink, though she still needed naps, . She hadn't thought about sex either in a while, both because being a people-killing creature was a turn-off, and because she was half-afraid she'd kill whoever she fantasized about just by thinking of them. \n\nStill, she hadn't done cardio work in a while, so it was difficult. She couldn't talk to anyone, or ask for help. All she could do is walk, and have terrible nightmares. The one thing she didn't understand was, why did the scientist guy, Dave something or other, let her go? He must have known what she was, and what she could do. She was angry, because she watched him die, and and he let her do that. \n\nShe luckily had a watch, so she could at least try to keep the time.\n\nFifteen days later\n\nShe saw helicopters flying by. Within seconds, they had fallen, their pilots already disintegrated by the time the plane fell. Their ashes mixed with the ashes of the burnt forest, and to her horror, it tasted good.\n\nA month later\n\nShe grabbed a knife, and plunged into her heart.\n\nA month and a half later\n\nShe woke up, to see the ashen remains of two people. Apparently some hikers had found her body, and she had taken their life force\n\nTwo months later\n\nShe broke her watch. For some reason, that really pissed her off, which in turn made her laugh. She laughed so hard she began to cry.\n\nOn the plus side, she had pilfered a art book from the two dead campers. She had always wanted to try making art, and this was as good a chance as any.\n\nThree months later\n\nShe heard it drop before she saw it. A flash of light, and then an explosion.\n\nShe thought, “But I was just about to finish my dra--”\n\n5 years later\n\nNo one has ever seen Alison Den. You've heard of her—she's the indie artist that gets talked about here and there. Most people say she's a group of artists, all under one pen name. One thing's for certain, she's (if she's a she) is a recluse.\n\nEvery few months, she posts a painting on her blog. She has never responded to blog comments. She has never meet anyone in person, and has never done any media interviews. \n\nThere are many rumors, of course. Some people think it's just some young teen girl making an artistic statement. Some think it's just someone being edgy, as her paintings often involve violent imagery, though there are a few more pleasant ones. There was one person who claimed it was a Denise Sarandon, but then again, after her disappearance, and her aunt Amelia's revealed involvement in the highly unethical “alien-hybrid” experiments (even in her conviction, she claimed that Denise washer finest work), Denise has been linked to every rumor. \n\n(There is one confirmed message that Alison responded too, from Mickey Williams,the son of esteemed scientist David Williams, who claimed that she might want to see his improvements on his father's work. This son is, incidentally, currently in the hospital for third degree burns, and we pray for his life.)\n\nOne thing is certain. No one has ever met Alison Den face-to-face. And there is a good chance, if she has her way, no one ever will.", "One day, on a busy city street, a writer by the name of Nicolas is gestating an idea as he walks around. He has no destination in mind, but the act of walking itself is something that helps fuel his daydreams.\n\nHis idea is this; what would happen, if one day, on a busy city street, everyone around his protagonist turns to ash in an instant. The protagonist doesn't know he's disintegrating anyone at first, because once they enter his line of vision, they immediately turn into ashes, giving the protagonist no clue as to what's going on around him.\n\nAs he continues to develop this idea, he hears a loud scream. It disrupts his thoughts, so unknowingly he turns around. There was no one there, only ashes that the wind carries effortlessly.\n\n\"What's going on?\" Nicolas said.\n\nHe then hears the loud cries of an infant. He turns around once again and saw a lone stroller, being pushed by the wind to enter the road. He rushes towards it, muttering a curse to the irresponsible bastard who left the child there alone.\n\nHe stops it before its wheels jump off the sidewalk. He then plans on calming the baby's cries, so with a friendly expression, he reveals his face to the baby.\n\nThe baby's cries stopped. The baby responded by turning into ash.\n\nThe realization dawned on him like a bolt of lightning.\n\nHe then hears the loud horn of a vehicle. He turns his head around without thinking. It was a truck. He sees the driver. He sees him turn into ash. He sees the driverless truck approaching him.\n\nThen he feels pain. Enough pain to close his eyes forever.\n\n...\n\n\"Now that's a good idea,\" Nicolas said in a eureka. He then looks around, seeing no one. \"Huh, where did everybody go?\"" ]	2
	[WP] Ever see an r/WritingPrompts title and say "Who is it that comes up with this stuff?" Well, his name is Craig and this is his story.	[ "The final glass of wine was poured from the glass of wine that was a gift of Craig’s sister. In the dark light, Craig stared at the glowing computer screen as he browsed his favorite site, Reddit.com. Nothing like a Tuesday night spent on /r/WritingPrompts, thought Craig, as he drank his red wine. Craig is an aspiring writer, working on his first novel, he likes to spend his free time inspiring other writers and assisting in their careers as writers. His cat meowed loudly from behind him. Irritated, Craig opened the small bag of catnip next to his desk and dispersed the catnip over the cat scratcher next to his desk. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nGoing back to the work at hand, Craig typed the words “ After a Nuclear Holocaust, one man survives, a transvestite whose only skill is the ability to read minds”.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n“That’ll get them going” thought Craig. \n\n&nbsp;\n\n“Wait… Transvestite might be a little offensive maybe I should change that to something a little more PC”\n\n&nbsp;\n\nCraig hits the backspace button several times, and then types “ After a Nuclear Holocaust, one cat survives, whose only skill is the ability to read minds”\n\n&nbsp;\n\n“Wait, why would a cat’s power be to read minds if there’s no one else alive?”\n\n&nbsp;\n\nCraig hit the backspace button a few more times, and then types “After a Nuclear Holocaust, one cat survives, whose only skill is the ability to bring people back from the dead”\n\n&nbsp;\n\n“That’ll get them going.”" ]	1
	[WP]After more than 25 sucide attempts, 24 year old Heinz Doofenshmirtz finally get over his depression and decided to become an evil scientist.	[ "Click, click, click\n\nSay hello to Mr Heinz Doofenshmirtz. Oh, don't mind him. He's trying to shoot himself again but the gun is jammed.\n\nClick, click, click\n\nPoor Heinz, what led him to this turn of affairs I hear you ask? Well it's a funny thing. It all started when he tried to kill himself. I mean the last time he tried to kill himself. He had what you'd call an 'epiphany'.\n\nHe decided that all these attempts, 25 in all, and no success means only one thing. That he is invincible, and fate itself cannot let him end his life because it has far better plans in store for him. Yes...it's all quite delusional but can you blame him? If you failed in life enough to attempt suicide, and still fail at that you'd be deluding yourself as well.\n\nSo he decided to become an evil genius, and try to take over the world! Because of course you do.\n\nHis first invention on the road to global domination is...me. I am his computer...well not really, he took open source code and changed some ID tags around and called it his own master creation. Again...bear with him.\n\nOnce online I assisted him (far too much for a supposed genius) in putting together his first real attempt at global level villainy. A memory wiper. It can saturate entire towns in it's energy beam and everyone caught in it loses their short term memory. It's not...terribly villainous but it would cause quite the discomfort, enough for a ransom or two.\n\nBut something went wrong. Poor “Dr. Doofenshmirtz”, the one time a weapon aimed at him actually worked.\n\nSo here I am, recording the former Dr. Doofenshmirtz attempt to once again kill himself and fail at it. Perhaps once he has his next epiphany I'll convince him to do something else. I don't think he's cut out for this supervillain gig.\n\nMaybe a stuntman?", "Pills? Not enough, it seems. Noose? I'm not a sailor. Gunshot? What is this, the wild west? I can't aim that well!\n\nI've tried, I've tried, and I've tried to kill myself. I can barely count the ways I've tried to leave this wretched world, and I've failed. Okay, it's 25, in 3 years and 4 months. That's an average of once every 50 days. \n\nThe ER docs know my by name. \"Sure you don't want a referral to a shrink, dude?\" is about the most sympathy I get. \n\nSo yanno what? I quit. I quit, I quit, I quit. If I can't end my time in this world, I can end the world in my time. I took chemistry, and physics, and biology. I'm good with numbers. Hell, a nuke is just enough uranium to blow up, and how much would I need to blow up the world? 100kg or so? I can fit that into a suitcase. I can just see their faces when I tell them I've built one! Heinz Doofenschmirtz will go down in the history books as the man who... wait, no, there won't be any history books...\n\nI think step one is to make sure I don't fail, and the biggest hurdle will be the uranium. But I know a guy who was in trouble with the cops once for week - I'm sure he has some contacts to buy lots of illegal things. \n\nI'm gonna call him right now! Tell him I can bring thousands of dollars in cash if he can find me some uranium. It'll be like in the movies - meet in a motel, \"you got the money, you got the stuff,\" and get out before the killing starts. \n\nFunny, I always thought it would be easier to kill just me than it would be to blow up the world. \n\n________________________________\n\nThe police were first on the scene. The ambulance that followed shortly thereafter was sent away in short order. \"We're gonna need a coroner.\" \n\n\"What a shame to throw a life away. Who knows the potential this kid had?\"" ]	2
	[WP] You are an astronaut aboard the ISS on a single-man mission. You witness the entire world getting obliterated by a comet.	[ "Reply if you want more \n\n\n\nclick\n\ni groaned as I slowly opened my eyes.\n\na blinking light stared right in front of me as I started moving my hands around.\n\nSlowly i began to realize that I was in a container.\n\nThe area in front of my eyes was covered by glass, and as I pushed up I felt it shift a little.\n\nPutting more force into my push I managed to move the lid a little.\n\nAs my fingers grasped through the opening I had created, I realized there were buttons on the side of the container.\n\nClicking one of them randomly I suddenly felt the whole container shudder as lights started going off in my side vision.\n\nA face popped up in front of me, or well a picture of a face, a hologram.\n\n\"Hello, and good morning from your long nap. The year is 2270, and the earth is habitable. Please proceed to the loading dock where your other humans will greet you.\" The face said.\n\nother humans? 2270? What the hell? It's 2020 and last thing I remember... oh shit.\n\nI felt the glass swing open and I quickly rose to my feet. Glancing around the room I was in, I spotted two other containers, but they were both empty. I saw light coming from the hallway right in front of me, so I dashed into it. The hallway was narrow, with the light coming around the corner at the end. Slowing my pace I made my way down to the corner and poked my head around it. I saw a wide open area, similar to a hangar from Star Wars, however it was empty. The hangar doors were completely open and outside I saw the blue sky shining down upon the earth. \n\n\"Hello? Anyone there?\" I yelled out, as I slowly moved to the hangar entrance. As i reached the entrance I had to shield my eyes as the suns light almost blinded me. When I opened them again I saw a trail of smoke in the sky, coming from behind a hill. \n\nthats were they have to be, but why did they leave already?\n\nGoing from a slow paced walk to an all out sprint I ran towards the hill, and climbed it at an inhuman speed. When I reached the top and looked over, my heart dropped.\n\nThe smoke was coming from humans alright, it was coming from a building with a chimney. It looked makeshift, but it was made completely out of stone. The building was surrounded by other smaller buildings all in the same style. They looked straight out of the 1800s. As I walked down the hill I saw a group of kids playing outside.\n\nkids? But how? But what?\n\n\"Hey where are your parents?\" I called out to then.\nAs soon as they saw me, they screamed and ran away. A man dashed out of the big building followed by three other men. They were all dressed in animal skin, apart from the first man who was dressed in a NASA uniform. \n\n\"Well I'll be dammed, the sleeper finally woke.\" He exclaimed.\n\n\"The sleeper?\" I asked, \" what the hell is going on?\"\nI demanded.\n\n\"If I'm correct you think the year is 2270, right son?\" He said with a grim look on his face.\n\n\"Thats what the face told me.\" I said cautiously.\n\n\"Well son, it's not 2270, in fact not even close. You are a legend, my father told me about you, and his father before him. The year in our terms is 500 as it has been 500 years since the revolution, but for you...\" he said.\n\nMy heart dropped as I heard the next words.\n\n\"It would be 3000\"\n\ni woke up 700 years late. ", "That's it...\n\nImages of my family flashed through my mind, and once the shock wore off I immediately turned away from the scorched rock that used to be my home. I headed back to my room, grabbing the few pictures of them that I brought with me. Tears start streaming from my eyes as I broke down realizing that I will never see them again.\n\nActually, I might be able to see them again, I thought as I remembered the Soyuz Rocket attached to the station for emergency evacuation. I peered back through the porthole and saw that the comet landed on the side of the Earth opposite of where I lived.\n\nI won't live long if I even make it down there alive. There will probably be riots, scavengers, and looters by the time I make it down there. But I would do anything to be able to see my family again, even if we only live together for a few months before the ash cloud turns every food source to just dead vegetation.\n\nI got into an EVA suit, and stepped into the Soyuz. Quickly I made the sign of the cross, and jammed my fist onto the launch button. My home might be dying, and soon I'll probably be dying with it, but I'm making it back to Earth.", "January 5, 2017\nDear Diary,\nIt happened 2 minutes and 30 seconds ago. Before that, all was well. My parents were probably at the breakfast table. Mom must have been complaining about how our Lhasa was doing a hunger strike again. Dad was perhaps busy fiddling with the daily. My brother would have been having a chat with his boss, mumbling about how much work they make him do. That was around 2 minutes and 36 seconds ago. In six seconds, my entire world was obliterated. There had been warnings by the space agencies. But nobody pays attention to a goddamn piece of rock when Mr. Trump is preparing a war agenda for the world. Six seconds and the whole of humanity perished from the face of our only home in the universe. I, Captain John Rogers, am the only one that remains. Back in school, when we were asked to write essays on Man, most would start with \"Man is a social animal\". A chill ran down my spine as I realised the gravity of my situation. I would never have anyone to interact with. No one to cry with. None to share a story with. No one to make fun of. No one to put off to sleep at night. Here I was. looking at all the creations of my species, get wiped out my a single stroke of Fate. But that was not what bothered me. What irked me most was the feeling of helplessness, of hopelessness, a feeling of having fallen in a dark abyss. All I now had were my own thoughts and feelings. I cannot take it. I am going to take a few pills and go out into the darkness. But as I go, I want you to know, whoever is reading this, that even though I go with pain, I go knowing that I loved and was loved, I cared and I was cared for and that no matter what remains of humanity, no matter whether anyone ever finds us or not, we did good. If my words are to be the last message of humanity, let me sign off with a quote by Greek poet Aeschylus:\n“Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget\nfalls drop by drop upon the heart\nuntil, in our own despair, against our will,\ncomes wisdom through the awful grace of God.” \n" ]	3
	[WP]In 2184, the first generation ship was sent to colonize a nearby star. As it left the Sol system, it exploded. For 100 years at the anniversary, a ceremony is held where the ship is called- "Argo, this is Houston". The ceremony ends when the ship could have responded. This year, Argo responded.	[ "The display suddenly lit up with two easily understood but completely insane words: \"Incoming transmission\". I blinked once, then rubbed my eyes to make sure I was seeing what I thought I was seeing. \n\nIt was there alright, clear as day and had just updated itself \"Transmission complete.\"\n\nA moment later, the speaker crackled to life. \"Houston, this is Captain Micahels of the Argo. Transmission received. We are sending you our current coordinates, velocity, crew and ship status. In brief, we encountered some unexpected turbulence as we crossed out of the Sol system. We thought we weren't going to make it for a moment there, but suddenly everything quieted down. It was actually quite eery. \n\nAs you'll see by reviewing our logs, we are in pretty good shape. A few minor items to follow up on but nothing to write home about... uh, that was a joke Houston, don't worry, it's all in there. We await your acknowledgement and correspondence. Thank you Houston. Signing off for now, until next time\".\n\nI looked behind me at the management console which was located above the main floor of mission control. It was unusual under normal circumstances, but the entire leadership team had been assembled for the ceremony. They appeared nearly as dumbfounded as I was. A stunned silence seemed to pervade the entire room. \n\nI had been on the job for almost two years now, but I knew exactly what the protocol was for this situation. Despite that, the situation was nearly overwhelming. Without dropping my gaze, I stated as clearly as I could muster \"Director, the Argo has completed it's third transmission successfully. What are your orders?\"\n\nThe first and second transmissions had been sent just over and under one hundred years ago. It was actually 104 years, 7 months and 11 days and another 4 years, 8 months and 16 days, but who's counting. Oh, that's right, I am. Part of my primary responsibility was mission status. The Argo was not technically on an active mission, but it had been considered as such once a year for the past 100 years since the Argo was first deployed.\n\nEvery year it seemed that the ceremony had become more and more complacent. It was just another excuse for engineers, managers and the space program's government officials to mingle and catch up every year. \n\nI knew the details and the specifics, but only because it was literally in my job description. The director seemed to wake up from his stupor and looked down at me. \"Well get on with it, what does it say?\"\n\nWithout making it seem like I should already have acknowledged the response, I acknowledged the response by hitting the Enter key. \"Yes sir, just a moment.\" Immediately the prompt status changed to \"Message transcoding...\" \n\nThe status indicator seemed to tick on for hours and hours, but in actuality it took about 15 seconds to complete. I couldn't do anything but stare at the screen as I saw the percentage creep up. \n\nFinally the prompt changed to \"Transmission Complete\". I keyed in the command to open the log file. At first glance, it was completely underwhelming and normal. Statistical read-outs, crew health, everything Captain Michaels mentioned. \n\nAnd then we got to the end of the file. The date stamp said \"08/16/2195\". It was the precise date that the Argo was supposed to send its third transmission. It was also the date of the explosion at the exact location where the Argo was supposed to have crossed out of the Solar System.\n\nIt wasn't possible. That third message had never been received, at least not until now. The explosion was not visible on earth with the naked eye, but our instrumentation detected a signature pattern that was congruent with an explosion. A brief, faint burst of light and an apparent dispersement of matter. There were no other logical conclusions to draw.\n\nThe next step was to confirm receipt of the transmission. I looked back up to the director and said \"Acknowledging receipt of transmission.\" I was just about to enter in the command when he shouted back, \"Wait!\"\n\nHe looked a bit bewildered for a moment and pulled a few of his colleagues towards him for a hushed conversation. It seemed animated but I couldn't hear much over the general din that was happening all around. I looked over at Jim, on of my colleagues in radio control.\n\n\"What the hell is going on? Is this some kind of sick joke?\" Jim said. \"I don't think so.\" I said. \"The message and status is completely legitimate, it checks out. The time stamp, the encryption key, everything looks correct.\" \n\nJim shook his head. \"What the hell man?\" It wasn't really different from his first question, and my answer wouldn't have changed much either so I just shrugged. I glanced back up at the management console. Their conversation seemed to grow more animated, but they were still using hushed tones so I didn't know what they were talking about.\n\nI looked around and people were either arguing with each other, scouring the archives for data and information on the Argo or standing there idly and looking perplexed. I guess I fell into the latter category, but I had an excuse at least. I knew most of the details on the Argo mission, so I couldn't think of anything to research. \n\nI also had the responsibility to acknowledge communication with the Argo and was technically awaiting orders. I didn't have an immediate plan of action but my thoughts were inconsequential. I knew that the physicists were researching temporal displacement ideas and thought they might have input that would likely override my own ideas.\n\nI also knew that they had been looking for a way to prove some of their theories, so I thought this must be in their territory. I said \"Director, I think it is prudent to inform the time displacement theorists that we have circumstantial evidence to evaluate\". \n\nAt this point, one of the engineers in the astro-physics areas spoke out. \"The communication is correct and temporally accurate. Our team is taking over this investigation going forward. Please acknowledge receipt. The Argo will receive acknowledgement as anticipated on 8/16/2195\". \n\nI didn't understand the request, nor did I understand why it was coming from the team that it came from but it wasn't my job to understand these sorts of things. I looked up at the management console with a wondering look. \n\nThe director looked dejected and said \"Confirmed. Notify the Argo that the transmission has been received. Back date the acknowledgement transmission to 8/16/2195.\"\n\nI was confused but started to input the commands that the director requested. After completing the command directive, I looked back up at the director and said \"Ready to commit. Please acknowledge.\" The director didn't look back at me but took another deep breath while looking up at the main console.\n\n\"Confirm message.\".\n\nWith a mixture of relief of astoundedness, I entered the command to send the message. I didn't know what else to expect, but I stood in my position looking at the Director, waiting for the next command.\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Whisked away to a fantasy world by the hands of a magical creature, you take in your surroundings - only to find your position in this world is not quite what you'd hoped...	[ "I was sitting at home, browsing the internet like any other day. I came across an interesting ad. \n\nTired of your normal life? Then join us in a fantasy world inhabited by brave heroes and beautiful princesses!\n\n\"Really? What product could you even offer with a description like that? Some kind of game?\" I thought. However, my curiosity got the better of me. I clicked on the ad and it brought me to a black page. All it had was a chat box and a big picture of a 8-bit fairy above it. A message then came up in the chatbox.\n\nForgule: So you want to be transported to a fantasy world?\n\nI thought, \"Wow they really are rolling with this fantasy world stuff, even using a name like 'Forgule'. I wonder how they're going to try to scam me out of my money. I'm going to go with it, just to see how it goes.\" I typed a message into the chat box.\n\nJaden: Sure, why not?\n\n\"Huh, how did it have my name on there? I don't recall entering it previously?\"\n\nForgule: Okay then! Just standby there!\n\nI sat there for a few minutes, feeling anxious as to what would happen. They somehow figured out my name. I might be in trouble. I waited and waited. Thirty minutes. An hour. Three hours. Nothing happened. It was getting late, so I decided to go to sleep.\n\nI woke with the sun glaring into my eyes. My pillow felt a lot harder and I couldn't feel my blanket. I rolled to the side, averting my eyes from the sun and slowly opened them. My eyes opened up to the sight of grass.\n\n\"Grass? that's weird. Why is there grass on my bed?\" I stood up, and looked around. I was in a grassy field, next to a tree. \"Huh, where am I?\" Suddenly, I remembered what happened last night. \"There's no way.\" My head began to rush with ideas of things that were now possible in a fantasy world. I could become a hero and fight monsters. A wizard who fights eldritch beings. Possibly even fall in love with a princess that I saved from the clutches of an evil dragon.\n\n\"Where to start... Of course! An adventurer's guild! That's where you always start in games! I wonder if there are any towns nearby\" I looked around a saw one in the distance. I made my way there, it was a long tiring walk, but my excitement was able to carry me.\n\n\"Wow! It's a real fantasy town!\" I walked around looking for an adventurer's guild. The signs were written using a different language. \"I saw places that looked like a Blacksmith, Apothecary, General store. Hmm... can't seem to find it\"\n\nWhile looking for it, I came across a alleyway. In the alleyway I two thugs aggressively cornering a teenage girl. \"This is my chance!\" I thought.\n\nI ran in and put myself between the thugs and the girl all while yelling the classic line, \"Leave her alone!\"\n\n\"You really think you can do anything in this situation?\" The skinny one said. \"Have you seen the size of my friend here?\"\n\nI took a good look at the other thug. His muscles were bulging from his body. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. The strong thug took a swing at my stomach. I yelled in pain grasping my stomach and fell to the floor, unable to muster the strength to get back up. They surrounded me and kicked me while I was down.\n\n\"So girl, you better give us all your money or you might end up like him.\" The skinny one said. The skinny one then kicked me again. In fear, the girl handed over some sort of purse full of coins. \"See, things are simple as long as you comply. We don't have to make any extra efforts. Now go on girl, we're done with you here.\" The girl ran out of the alley as fast as she could.\n\nThe big one asked, \"Hey Jack, what you wanna do with this guy?\"\n\nJack, the skinny one, replied, \"Search him for money and then just leave him. Teach him a lesson to not mess with folk like us.\"\n\nThe big one rifled through my pockets. \"He got nothing of use Jack, just a little brick and a bunch of paper.\"\n\nJack replied, \"Eh whatever, we got the money we wanted anyway.\"\n\nThey both left me there lying around on the floor, with my belongings strewn about on the cold hard floor. After a while, I managed enough strength to get myself up. The sun was setting and I was tired, so I made my way back to an inn I saw earlier. I walked up and talked to the innkeeper.\n\n\"Room for one.\" I said.\n\n\"That'll be five for one night\" he said.\n\nI pulled out my wallet and handed him five dollars.\n\n\"Huh, what is this paper stuff boy? You trying to swindle me?\"\n\nShoot, of course they don't use dollars here. I tried to come up with something on the spot. \"It's the currency from my country.\"\n\n\"Yeah? Well it aint gold pieces. You'd best be finding a nice tree to sleep under tonight.\"\n\n\"Great.\" I thought. I begrudgingly took my money back and walked out of the inn. I made my way to the nearby forest and laid down by a tree.\n\n\"This sucks.\"", "I met an injured Pegasus that could talk as I was strolling through the park one day. Flash past a few weeks, I now live with this talking Pegasus. No one knows about Pterose, the same pegasus I saved, the knowledge of Pterose is one of my closest guarded secrets. One day, Pterose asked a strange question, \"How would you like to visit the realm where I was born?\" \n\nI replied, \"Why are you suddenly asking such a question?\"\n\n\"Well, after living with you for so long, I noticed that you always seem to want something more, like your life was empty.\" Pterose replied. \"Don't worry. My original realm, Ethania, is filled with things that you can only dream of. Kings and queens, dragons and gods, magic and sorcery. You can be a hero there, with riches and fame that other's would die for.\"\n\n\"I... I...-- Surely this is all too good to be true. I don't even know how to fight!\" I say, feigning a weak punch.\n\n\"There are people who train heroes. They will gladly train you and the king will gladly give you plently of coins to start off your journey. Rarely do heroes come from outside realms, the ones who do usually are the ones mentioned in prophecy. Pegasi, like me, is the only race able to bring outsiders into our realm. Come with me.\" Pterose says as she walks through a swirling blue vortex of mystical energy in the middle of my apartment. \n\nHere goes nothing, I say as I jump into the portal, forgetting about all my earthly troubles. It was nothing I had ever experienced. It felt like I was submerged underwater, but I could breathe and open my eyes freely. I swam upwards trying to move towards the light at the top. I shot upwards, emerging from the pond. It was the most beautiful view I had ever seen. The sunlight fracturing against the water. The tall alpine trees along the mountains that lined the river. Strange animals eating grass peacefully, recognizable ones like cows also among them. Only... Pterose was nowhere to be found. I hear footsteps, the clang of armor, and the neighing of horses.\n\nI look behind me and see a long road in the forest. I hear them get nearer to the pond I was resting in. Until the sounds stopped. \"Look sir, isn't that a man I see laying in the pond?\" I hear someone say.\n\n\"You there, why are you in this pond of all places? You do realize this is a sacred pond dedicated to our gods. To rest here is to commit blasphemy!\" Said an armored man as he approached me.\n\n\"Sorry, sorry, I had no idea! I was whisked here from another world by a pegasus to become a hero. Please, you must take me to the king!\" I pleaded.\n\n\"You think we haven't heard that before? Where is the pegasus? Many people have tried to claim to be heroes from another world. You will see the king, but not in the way you expect, you are to be taken to be tried. Men, arrest this prisoner.\" He says, gesturing towards me as two of his men grabbed me and threw me into a cage. \n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"You have been tried and judged guilty. Not only did you dare defile a sacred pond, you also tried to claim to be a hero from another world. You are hereby sentenced to be a slave for the rest of your life.\" The old man said, shaking his head with disapproval. His crown sparkling in the dimly lit hall. Guards surrounding every exit. \n\n\"No! No! There has to be something wrong! I was sent here by a pegasus! I am to be a hero! You must believe me!\" I say pleading, my eyes becoming heavy with tears.\n\n\"Take this man away, I don't want his unbearable presence to be in my court any longer!\" The king says as he turns away, his guards following closely behind him.\n\nI was thrown into the dungeons by a guard. \"How long will I be in here?\" I ask the guard, as he was leaving.\n\n\"Forever, or until someone buys you.\" He says as he walks away, leaving me alone in this rotting cell in a beautiful world.\n\n~~~Shall I continue?~~~\n\nPart 2 in comments\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You wake up one day and come to the realization that the world is your oyster. Literally. Things really changed overnight.	[ "It's 6:30 am and I hear my phone go off. I have been looking for a better way to wake myself up every morning as my phone just pisses me off. I look over to my girlfriend and I give her a little shake to let her know it's time to go take her morning bathroom break. Her and I share a car and if she doesn't go poo right away then we are late for work. She rolls over to me and says \"let's call out of work, it's the new year so we both have time off again\". \nI absolutely love staying home with her so I totally agree with her. \n\nWe both call out of work and go back to sleep for a couple hours. \n\nI wake up, see the oyster in my eye ball. \n\nI realize it was the earth the whole time. ", "This planet was made up entirely of a maze.\n\nThe planet before that, a funny looking cloud. The planet before that, a packet of crisps. It never gets any easier. \n\nI reach another dead end, cursing my oxygen supply away. This one wasn't marked on the map they gave me. The other 47 dead ends weren't either. How was I supposed to find a Taco Bell, let alone any sword of power, when the map is as accurate as a ostrich playing football?\n\nPink lights begin to flash on the insides of my space visor, giving me a headache in the process. It's a video call. I take it quickly, hoping it's not the boss. Displayed on the rocky ground is an otter, standing up on its hind legs, wearing a monocle. I would have thought it to be silly mere months ago.\n\n\"Lutra Lutra!\" I exclaim. \"How's it hanging?\"\n\n\"Ever since I found you clinging to life on your oyster planet? It's been swell.\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah,\" I kick a rock aside to see the screen better, nearly stubbing my toe in the process. \"Saved my life and all that.\"\n\nif otters could smile, then this one would shine. \"Your planet has also made an excellent meal. I've put on a whole one point two pounds just by revising it.\"\n\nI continue down a path, only to find another dead end. Lutra Lutra seems to stare intently at my plight. \"Wait, you're still on Uonia IV? I thought you were done with that mission hours ago!\"\n\n\"I thought so too. but the map is all wrong, and I'm not very fluent in Voodesh yet, and I can't see very well and I think I'm running low on oxygen--\"\n\nLutra Lutra cuts me short. \"Relax. Relax. I can guide you through from where you're at. The sword is only a mile away, from my simulation.\"\n\n\"That's so far away when you're a rat in a maze...\"\n\n\"Well, have you tried not being a rat in a maze? Try something different.\"\n\nMy surroundings are a bit on the same-ish side. There's not much to brainstorm with. On the left of me, there's a wall of rock, hundreds of feet high. And on the right is the same, a wall of rock. And behind me? Take a guess. \n\nBut there wasn't a ceiling, and that got me thinking. \n\n\"I can climb to the top and just go over the maze? It's going to take the rest of my boosters.\"\n\nLutra Lutra chirps. \"I can pick you up, then. I'll ready my ship.\"\n\nActivating the boosters attached to my shoes, meant to take me back to the mothership, I begin to ascend the wall. Before I'm even able to scream, I've already reached the top. It's a flat sheet of rock all along the top, and with this higher view, I can see the entire maze laid out before me, including the center holding the sword. With the booster depleted, it becomes a simple walk across the top. \n\nIt's prettier up here, too. Without walls, there's plenty of stars to look at. Plenty which haven't given up yet.\n\n\"It wasn't always an oyster, Lutra. It... turned one day. I don't know how to describe it. One day, it's a functional planet, with people and buildings and pigeons, and the next, it's an oyster.\"\n\nLutra Lutra takes a minute to respond. Perhaps this is because he is still readying his ship. Perhaps it's because he's trying to find the right words. \n\n\"I know. Something's been happening to the planets lately. This one was a fully functional utopia before the rock popped out of the ground.\"\n\n\"We have to turn back my planet.\"\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n Sliding down the final rock wall, I reach the sword, neatly tucked away in some pebbles. Pulling it from the ground takes some muscle; its weight is monumental. Minutes afterward, Lutra Lutra picks me up in his shuttle, and warps be back to the mothership. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] "What use is godhood, when you can do nothing with it?"	[ "\"I don't know, not whining about it is a first,\" Lucile said. She was clearly tired of me asking the same question over and over again.\n\n\"But, it's godhood! How can I not whine about it when I'm not allowed to use it?\" I said.\n\n\"Beats me,\" she shrugged. \"Have you tried meditation?\"\n\n\"No, that's just a waste of time.\"\n\n\"It'll help your anger issues,\" she whispered, but I clearly heard it.\n\n\"What was that?\" I growled.\n\n\"That,\" she pointed at my face. \"I meant that. You have no patience whatsoever, it's a no wonder they took your license.\"\n\nI grumbled. She was right, I clearly had anger issues.\n\n\"But, I was the one who made them... they just can't take them away from me...\"\n\nShe then took hold of my hands. \"Listen, it's only temporary. How long's it been, anyway? 2000 years? That's a cinch, I'm sure your creations will welcome you back after you pass your re-examination.\"\n\n\"You think?\" I asked. I'm a bit flushed at the feel of her hands, it's so warm.\n\n\"Yes,\" she smiles. \"Because next time, you'll be a full benevolent god to everyone.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" I nodded. \"Maybe I'll try that meditation.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You were born with wings. Everyone wants to know about your amazing adventures, but you're too unfit and lazy to use them. One day, however, you need them for the first time...	[ "\"Look I don't know how to do this.\"\n\nJason just doesn't believe me. \n\n\"You've had those wings for way over 20 years. Wings.\"\n\nYou weren't overweight, so you can't use that as an excuse. Could the wings be deformed?\n\n\"They were deformed.\"\n\n\"For 26 years? No way to repair them? Why didn't you get them removed?\"\n\nWhy wouldn't I?\n\n\"My dad could never afford them.\"\n\n\"Your dad, your rich industrialist dad. Right. He can afford to gold-plate your wings and let them dispense caviar from the air, but he can't help with a surgery.\"\n\nMaybe they didn't-\n\n\"Maybe they didn't discover a cure yet.\"\n\n\"Why do you need them today anyway?\"\n\n\"I woke up late for a class.\"", "They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die, but that's horseshit. I can recall the exact words I thought when I honestly believed I was about to kick the bucket.\n\nWhy the fuck didn't I learn to use these wings?\n\nI mean, people dream about flying. Literally. While asleep and awake. I had the ability, I just never did. Never had a good enough reason to. They were really good as a talking point with the ladies, though. I was quite popular, and the stories I would tell were complete bullshit but seemed captivating enough. But this latest girl... Well. I didn't know she had a fiance. He was quite mad when he came back in the middle of the night, they guy obviously had anger issues when he kicked her to the ground and threw me out the 13th floor window as we fought. Didn't he notice my wings? He must have been really angry.\n\nAnyway, that's right. I was saying I thought I was dead. You'd think at some point during the past 20 years I would have flown once, right? Yeah, me too. But here I was, hurtling downwards wishing like fuck I had. They were literally my only chance at not dying, I had to try. The headlines would have painted me as a the idiot I was - 'Winged man falls to death'. \n\nSo I tried. I spread them as wide as I could, thinking to use them like a parachute. That didn't work, I must have done it wrong and ended up tumbling. I barely managed to right myself before trying again, and I got extremely lucky. This time I managed a semblance of controlled flight. Well, dive would be more accurate, since I was still going downwards. Instinct lead me to try and 'pull up', as it were, so I leaned back trying anything to slow myself down. It worked - for a few seconds. Unfit and never used, my left wing buckled under pressure first and snapped. I howled in pain, that fucking hurt, and then hit the ground. Thankfully, I was knocked out by the impact. Yeah, knocked out. Didn't die.\n\nI almost wish I had. Now, because I'm unique, I have both doctors and veterinarians trying to help me rehabilitate. It's really embarrassing to pretend like I remember how to fly, but I just can't right now. I'm scared they'll find out I'm a fraud. \n\nBut I won't let them find out. I'm going to fly. These wings are a gift, I should use them." ]	2
	[WP] As you release your final breath, you do not see your life flash before your eyes. Instead, you see the many possibilities of how you could have improved your life, but never happened.	[ "Michael could vaguely hear the chatter from the medical staff around him. He heard indistinct voices that sounded like his children as well. The bright lights of the room and the morning sun were barely discernable blurs to his unfocused eyes.\n\nMichael knew he was dying. He could feel a hold slipping that he had never known wasthere. It was like a low hum in a room that you only notice when it's gone. As soon as it is, the silence becomes apparent.\n\nHe could only imagine his wife had went through a similar experience only a few months before. He missed her terribly. She had went bravely into the unknown, holding his hand while he openly wept. Her beauty and gentle nature was as prominent in death as it was in life. He looked forward to the flood of memories he would have of her before he passed.\n\nHe felt his chest drop and refuse to rise again. Michael was oddly calm, despite knowing his final breath had been taken. The medical staff had started to shuffle around him and he could feel several sensations of people grabbing him and trying to revive him.\n\nHe knew none of it would work.\n\nHis eyes fell into even less focus and everything began to dim. As the darkness set in, a picture began to develop from the void. He could see a small child, playing in a sandbox.\n\nIt was him. But why?\n\nA boy came over to him with a toy and asked to play. Michael remembered the little boy. He remembered this now, but he did not want to see it. He could feel his shame coming back to him. He had bullied the kid and broken his favorite toy. Why would he be seeing this now?\n\nThe memory didn't match up. They were playing together now, not fighting. Michael was being kind and asking him questions about the toy. They were smiling and laughing. He was hit with a flash of new memories of he and Thomas being best friends. He saw them attending sporting events together and laughing in the back yard over drinks. He saw them gathering their families together and laughing over stories of their children.\n\nWhy was this happening?\n\nMichael could see the final pictures of a grown Thomas fading into the void and new pictures emerging. He was barely over twenty now and he was sitting in a job interview. He remembered it well. His father had arranged it for him. It had caused a tremendous rift in their relationship when Michael had refused to take it seriously. They had lost years to the tension between them.\n\nThis time Michael was impressing everyone in the room. The interviewers were laughing at his wit and nodding in agreement to all of his new ideas for the company. The new memories flooded in again as he was embracing his father proudly at home. It pained Michael to see a pride in his father's eyes that he had never known in his own life. He saw a large house and extravagant cars and himself behind a large oak desk. He saw a retirement of travel and adventure that he was never able to have in his own life.\n\nThe picture faded away and a new one took its place.\n\nHe tried to scream out no but his body was no longer responding. It was the worst moment of his life.\n\nHe was standing by his wife on the hospital bed, just short of thirty years old. His two children were off with their aunt so that he and Miranda could deal with their trauma. He remembered in his own time and life breaking down in that room. He yelled and screamed that they would never try again, that he couldn't handle going through this pain. She had cried and begged him to let it be, that now wasn't the time to make such decisions.\n\nBut none of that happened.\n\nHe was hugging her and saying he loved her. He was petting her hair and saying it just wasn't meant to be this time, but that they could always try again soon. She was crying into his shoulder and nodding, saying she knew there was nothing they could do, it was just random. She knew it couldn't stop them from having hope.\n\nThe new memories flooded in of a beautiful baby that Michael had never known. Her blue eyes pierced the world and her demeanor was as fierce as her mother's. She played loudly and loved immensely and was a treasure to all those who she met.\n\nDespite death, Michael could feel tears falling down his cheeks. Despite the darkness taking over and his hold on life loosening, he knew the guilt and sadness in a physical way. Why hadn't he done so much more with the time he had? Why hadn't he responded appropriately in such pivotal moments?\n\nWhy hadn't he been good enough?\n\nOut of the void he heard the most beautiful, melodious voice.\n\n\"You were good enough for me.\"\n\nThe room of people stared at the dying man who had taken his final breath, wondering what he was going through. His children were crying as they lost their last parent and last hold on being children.\n\nAs they held each other tight, they heard a rattling from their father as he inhaled deeply one final time and with his last breath said, \"Miranda...\"\n\nHis body loosened and his face broke into a final, content smile.\n\n-------------------------------------------------\n\nIf you enjoyed this, please swing by r/JLSWriting for more of my stories." ]	1
	[WP] "It's not something I'd recommend, but it is one way to live."	[ "You know, I wasn't always like this. It just seemed... fun. I think I heard about it in a Thoreau book somewhere. I figured \"Hey, everything I care about is gone and no one would really remember me or miss me.. so fuck it.\"\n\nI like my little cabin. Ever since watching that doc on Netflix, I was finally inspired to build a whatever, \"tiny home\". All it really is is a cabin though. People make it out more than what it is. Cheap, sturdy, keeps out the snow. That's all I need.\n\nIt's warm and cozy thanks to my fireplace. No one ever used their fireplace back home, and every time I light this one up is cathartic, especially when its to cook. Oh yeah, I still need to head back to town though for supplies, my rations since leaving are finally running low. Sucks that the nearest town is a days walk.\n\nThe only thing I can't get there is meat. I miss is meat, red meat. It calls to me. Back home steaks, small game even big game couldn't satisfy my craving. Each had its own blood flavor, but big game by far was the best. Steaks compared to a freshly killed elk was like comparing bud light to Guinness. Nothing beats big game, I could destroy a good sized deer in a week. \n\nIts tough to find game out here though with the cloud cover and scarce tundra. Really tough. I haven't had a kill in weeks. Maybe I shouldn't have left home. At least I could get an 8oz rib eye. Nah I belong here, not there. The only thing worth missing, is gone. I can't live in that place at \"home\". I needed time to myself, to feel my thoughts. Getting hungry though.\n\nI really need to dispose of that carcass though its staring at me. I wanted to preserve it like I've seen on youtube but its staring at me. Might attract wolves and the like if I just dump it outside. I remember I was on my last legs waiting for something, anything. Its been a week of just waiting. All I saw was a rustling in the distance and I loosed. She had one of those furry hats on with a matching vest and Uggs. She had a beer and some branches when I found her. I really didn't mean to. I had no intention of bringing her back but I hadn't had red meat since I left. Months, man. \n\n I left the hat and boots on as I cut because it looked kinda like a deer. I left it on for about a good medium rare. That first bite, was better than any game I've ever had.\n\nJust waiting for the next one now. It's not something I'd recommend, but it is one way to live." ]	1
Inspired by [this](https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/5mkfej/you_wake_up_one_day_with_the_ability_to_freeze/dc4daxc/) AskReddit comment.	[WP] You can stop and start time at will and when time is stopped you do not age. Every second spent in real-time erodes your immortality at the rate of a normal person ageing.	[ "It was a lovely day outside, and it had been for about a year now. I was just finishing up my one hundredth book of the 'day' and now I was contemplating starting time up again. You see, I discovered one day that I had control of time itself. I had been running late for my college class and I wished time would stop, and it did. I didn't notice until I walked outside and saw everyone frozen in place, and it took me even longer to realize nothing that happened while time was frozen would hurt me. Be it age, physical damage, or otherwise. I couldn't die.\n\nI used to be the kind of person that would call immortality something of a curse. Sure, you live forever, but that doesn't really mean much when all your friends and family grow old and die before your eyes. That wasn't a problem now, now I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, and to hell with the consequences. \n\nAt first, I used it to improve myself. I'd work out for hours on end, shower and sleep, than read for hours on end. I've gotten into the best shape of my life because of this power, but as time went on and I mentally aged, I realized I could use it for far greater things than just redundantly working on myself. So I began to get to work on other things. Namely, improving humanity and using my endless time to invent new and wondrous things. A cheap and effective water-purifier, solar panels that were ten times more efficient than what existed at the time... Things of that nature. \n\nI became very wealthy, not that it mattered to me. I spent most of my time... Well, out of time. To the general public, and to my friends, it took me a day at most to invent something amazing, and I would allow some time to pass for it to spread around naturally before freezing time again and getting to work again. Yes, to them it was a day, to me it was several years, decades even. At this point I was well over the century mark and going on strong, and I was hardly twenty-two physically.\n\nThis particular day, I dedicated to curing cancer. This had been the longest and most difficult challenge of all, and there were many times, right now included, I had thought of giving up on that pursuit and working on something else. But I couldn't, no, I wouldn't, do that. Too many people suffered at the hands of this disease and I knew in my mind that I could cure it. \n\nSighing, I got back to work. There was so much to be done, but lucky for me I had all the time in the world and then some. Even as I felt the mental strain of pressing myself so hard, I knew it'd be worth it in the end. When I cured the world of all its problems and made sure nobody had to suffer ever again. Then, I'd likely let time run its course. After all, no one should live forever." ]	1
	[WP] E-Sports commentators commentate the final boss of a fantasy story.	[ "“Welcome back. For those of you just tuning in I'm Scott and my co-host for tonight is world renown previous ruler of the evil empire and ex-boss himself, Gerard.”\n\n\n“Thanks Scott, great to be here especially at this event.”\n\n\n“And what an event it is! Folks, this is a battle for the decade if not the century. Facing off against our very own Dark Prince Lexus we have the heroes known as The Mighty!”\n\n\n“And what a mighty group they are Scott. I don't know if you've faced off against them before, but let me tell you they are quite ferocious.”\n\n\n“Yes Gerard, we all saw the fight they had against you-”\n\n\n“Please call me General, it's still my title”\n\n\n“Forgive me, general- oh my! It looks like Prince Lexus has had enough games! After throwing down his spear he's called down the Judgment bolt on the Mighty! Let's see who's standing.”\n\n\n“Looks like the smoke is clearing now Scott. That Judgement bolt is fierce. If I had something like that in my fight-”\n\n\n“And it looks like most of the Might has been downed by the Bolt! The only one left standing is Brian. Lucky for the Mighty though he's actually their party's healer. Wonder what he will do now!?”\n\n\n“As a healer he should really being bringing back the team. Godess knows he did that enough against me.”\n\n\n“He sure did General. and it looks like he'll be going back to that well here now! There it is! Mass Restoration! Vintage Brian!”\n\n\n“Unfortunately for Prin-”\n\n\n“Unfortunately for the Prince, when Brian uses his Mass Restoration it give him another turn! What will he do now I wonder? He's actually dropped his staff and is raising his arms up! Could it be?”\n\n\n“I think he's-”\n\n\n“That's right folks! It looks like Brian is going for a summon! He's going to give the Prince a taste of his own medicine!”\n\n\n“What the Prince sass, that's a quick ticket to lockup.”\n\n\n“Free speech General, I call it like I see it. THERE IT IS FOLKS! He's dropped Leo's Archers! They use divine arrows and unload a volley on their enemy; Brian acquired this summons all the back in the cave of burden! It looks like!-”\n\n\n“It looks like the prince is going down?!”\n\n\n“But wait!”\n\n\n“What's this?”\n\n\n“Oh no, it looks like that wasn't the Prince's final form folks. He's now has some tentacles and wings and shit… have you ever seen anything like this general?”\n\n\n“Fraid not.”\n\n\n“That's right folks, seems this battle's just getting started, find out what's next after the break! For those of tuning in on our app catch all the action in-between with an upvote to our sponsors.”" ]	1
	[WP] Everyone has a guardian angel. Except for you. You have a guardian devil, and he's actively trying to make your life miserable.	[ "\"Oh, God. I know his face. What's he been in?\" Hi, my name is Liam and that was the voice of Lenny. He's my guardian devil.\n\n\"Who gives a shit, Lenny. Just watch the movie.\"\n\n\"No, I can't take it. I'm going to have to IMDB him, Liam. I'm going to have to IMDB that clown.\"\n\n\"Fine, just do it quickly and then shut up.\"\n\n\"Wait. I think I can get it without IMDB. ARGH! He was in that movie. The one with the guy in the trench coat and he has all those guns.\"\n\n\"The Matrix.\"\n\n\"No, not The Matrix, Liam. I know what The Matrix is. The other one.\"\n\n\"Lenny, I have no idea what you're talking about. Just shut up and watch the movie. We've already missed most of the start because of this.\"\n\n\"What are you talking about 'missed most of the start'? We haven't missed anything. We're right here watching it.\"\n\n\"We're missing it in the sense that I can't concentrate because you're sitting on my shoulder constantly talking.\"\n\n\"Well if you help me get this guys name we can move on from this.\"\n\n\"Just check IMDB.\"\n\n\"I can't now. I know I know it so I can't. I have to get it on my own. That's the problem with people, they rely on technology too much. Do you just IMDB everything?\"\n\n\"No. I don't IMDB everything. In particular, I don't IMDB stuff in the middle of films.\"\n\n\"It's the film with all the guns and the guy dodges bullets and has a fight with that dude from Lord of the Rings.\"\n\n\"You're describing The Matrix, Lenny. That's exactly what happens in The Matrix.\"\n\n\"No, it's not. It's not The Matrix, man.\"\n\n\"FUCKING SHUT UP. SHUT THE FUCK UP, LENNY. EVERY FUCKING TIME WE TRY TO WATCH A FILM YOU START HARPING ON ABOUT WHAT ACTOR HAS BEEN IN WHAT OR CALL OUT THEIR REAL NAMES AS THEY WALK ON SCREEN. YOU RUIN EVERY SINGLE FUCKING MOVIE DOING THIS.\"\n\n\"I'm just going to IMDB him if you're going to be like this.\" Lenny sat quiet for the first time since the start of the film while he checked his phone. \"See, I told you it wasn't The Matrix.\"\n\n\"What? Are you serious? What other film also has that stuff in it?\"\n\n\"Oh, no. You were right. It was The Matrix. So what was I thinking of? God, this is going to bug me for the entirety of this movie. And I still don't know that guys name! Can you believe this?!\"\n\n\n****\n\nI write shitty, silly stories on /r/BillMurrayMovies. Feel free to come along, not laugh at any of them and leave some judgement." ]	1
	[WP]Write a badly written story that at the end suddenly makes sense.	[ "I sat down in my office chai and st etched my a ms. Finally, a b eak. I think I'll just spend it on w iting a esponse to a p ompt on / /W itingP ompts.\n\nI opened a web b owse and typed in \" eddit.com/ /W itingP ompts\".\n\nDa n, the page isn't loading. Is it my connection to the se ve , o is the website down?\n\nAl ight, finally it loaded. Now let's see he e...what's this? This sounds like an inte esting p ompt.\n\nI leaned fo wa d and st aightened up. How shall I sta t this one...? \n\nWhateve . He e goes! \"I sat down in my office chai \"...\n\nOh. That's ight. A key on my keyboa d b oke.\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Write something that starts as a children's story but gradually becomes more and more mature.	[ "Ladybug, ladybug, where do you go? \nThe Princess is coming, don't you know? \nShe's at the Festival of the Sun, \nI'll be there to have some fun. \nLadybug, ladybug, won't you fly? \nOnesies, twosies, threesies, high!\n\nDragonfly, dragonfly, where do you go? \nThe King is coming, don't you know? \nHe needs everyone to do their best, \nOur soldiers will be put to the test. \nDragonfly, dragonfly, won't you go? \nOnesies, twosies, threesies, low! \n\nFirefly, firefly, where do you go? \nThe Queen is coming, don't you know? \nTelling us all there's naught to dread, \nThere may still be hope ahead. \nFirefly, firefly, won't you pray? \nOnesies, twosies, threesies, stay! \n\nDung beetle, dung beetle, where do you go? \nThe enemy is coming, don't you know? \nThey were stronger, yes they were, \nThey're the mighty conquerors. \nDung beetle, dung beetle, won't you come? \nOnesies, twosies, threesies, done.\n\n****\n\nEdit: Formatting, and tweaked the firefly verse a bit. ", "This is the story of Max. Max was a bear who lived in the woods. Max loved to go exploring. Some days, Max would go into the deeper parts of the forest to see what he could find. On his way, he would often see other animals. All of the other animals loved Max. He was their friend. On one particular day, during one of his walks, Max looked way up into the branches of a nearby tree. Sitting there, nibbling on an acorn, was Wanda the Squirrel.\n\n\"Good morning Wanda!\" he yelled.\n\n\"Why hello Max! I haven't seen you in these parts for a long time!\"\n\n\"I'm exploring!\" Max said, with a grin.\n\n\"That's fantastic,\" Wanda replied, \"just don't go too far, you might get lost.\"\n\nMax nodded his fuzzy head, \"Don't worry about me, I'm a bear! Bears are great with directions.\"\n\nWanda waved as Max continued on his journey, farther into the woods. He saw all kinds of marvelous things. Lady bugs were drinking morning dew from a flower petal. The birds were chirping and singing, bouncing through the sky with their songs. A fox was getting her pups ready for school. They were all lined up in a row and putting on their backpacks. The little pups smiled and waved at Max as he walked by. He waved back with a toothy grin and continued on.\n\nSoon, the sunlight that had been streaming into the forest began to fade. The leaves lost their green and became a dark shade of black. Max didn't hear the birds anymore; he couldn't remember how long it had been since they had stopped chirping. He had never went this far before, so far that the birds didn't chirp. But he wasn't worried. He was a bear, and everyone loved bears.\n\nHis sense of direction was failing. Everything was starting to look the same, and it was making him dizzy. His head ached and he could no longer tell which way was home. It was just black and brown everywhere he looked. His heart thumped and pounded, pounded and thumped, and a lump had lodged itself firmly in his throat; seizing every breath that entered and blocking every breath that went out. Max swallowed hard, but the lump refused to relent.\n\n\"You don't belong here, Mr. Bear,\" a voice called from the darkness. It was light and wispy, drawn out in almost a whisper. \n\n\"Who...who said that?\" Max asked, nervously.\n\n\"Go baaaaaack,\" it breathed, \"Go baaaaack.\"\n\n\"I'm trying, but I don't know the way!\"\n\nMax heard crunching through the trees in front of him, then behind him, then on both sides. He dug his claws into the cold, black dirt and lowered his body.\n\n\"Did you hear that, sisters? The poor thing doesn't know the way?\"\n\nAnother voice answered, \"You don't suppose he could be lost, do you?\"\n\nYet another voice replied, \"Well that would be no good. No good at all.\"\n\nMax's head darted in all directions, but he couldn't see anything. His body began to shake and quiver, his blood burning in his veins and bulging his eyes. \"Please, just...just show me the way and I'll go. I'll never bother you again.\"\n\nThere was silence in the woods. The voices went quiet. The steps had subsided. Max's pulse slowed, but the hair around his neck was still standing and attentive. Then, a soft laugh, a gentle chuckle.\n\n\"Mr. Bear,\" it breathed, \"We would love to show you the way.\"\n\n\"You would? You'd help me?\"\n\n\"But of course,\" the voice said, coming from overhead.\n\nMax wasn't sure if he could trust them, but he had no other choice. \"What do I need to do?\"\n\n\"Just follow ussssss. Follow our voice.\"\n\nHe was afraid, but then again, he was a bear. Bears are strong and tough. He put one paw in front of the other and slowly walked towards the phantom sounds.\n\nThere was nothing to fear. What could possibly hurt him in the woods? He was a bear, and everyone loved bears.\n\n\n \nMax woke up in a brush pile with a needle hanging out of his arm. The world was blurry and bright, most likely a side effect of the drugs he had scored from Johnny Jack Rabbit. He brushed the needle aside with his paw and tried to stand up, but he was still too dizzy. The dream had come back again. He was going to need another dose, a higher dose next time, to keep it at bay. \n\nHe didn't know how long he had been on his own or how long it had been since he had followed those wretched voices. Years most likely. But dreams of his former life were always present. They never departed no matter what drug he took. Johnny assured him he just needed to find the right mixture. But Max knew Johnny just wanted his protection and would say anything to keep him in his pocket. No one messed with a Jack Rabbit who had a bear at his beck and call; no matter how much of a douche bag he was. \n\nHe sat up and knocked what was left of a honeycomb off his chest. His fur was matted and sticky from the honey. Looking down towards his hind legs he saw a shape, gray and red intertwined. \n\n\"Oh Max, what have you done?\" he said to himself. He had been strung out and wasted before,but never had he stooped this low. Laying next to the brush pile was a squirrel, limp and headless. \n\nHe sighed and dropped his head. \"You're better than this Max,\" he said. But he no longer believed it. He was a bear, and bears do horrible things. \n\nNo one loves bears. ", "I wrote this a couple of years ago, but I think it works for this prompt so i'll post it here if you don't mind. Enjoy.\n\n-\nThe Duck sits on his island. He wants to fly away.\n\nHe surveys his pond, it is a very small pond, only a few ducks live there but he knows each of them very well. None more so than his best friend, who we will have to call Edward because ducks don't actually have names. Edward was the funniest duck on the pond, the pair had grown up together and sometimes it felt like Edward could read the Duck's mind. He always knew exactly what to say when the Duck wasn't feeling his best. The Duck always admired Edward, who was always happy despite being born with a warped wing, Edward could never fly away, not that he would want to, it was a very nice pond, and all his friends and family lived there.\nStill, thought the duck, it was a very small pond.\n\nThe Duck wanted nothing more than to see more ponds, to taste new foods and meet new ducks. Not because he didn't love his own pond, he did, he just knew that Ducks didn't live long and he wanted to discover as much as he could before he quacked. He would fly away, he told himself, as soon as he had said goodbye to Edward.\n\nBut no matter how many times he tried, he could not say goodbye to his friend. He would come close, then he would spy Edwards wing. He would think of Edward sat on the island all alone, and his words dried up in his throat.\n\nThe sun would rise and the sun would set, and the Duck sits on his island grinding his beak down. The worry would make his stomach burn. He could barely sleep for the pain of it.\n\nOne day he went to the Ducktor, who told him he had a stomach ulcer, and that he couldn't fly any more. And in that moment he was relieved. Perhaps it was easier this way, he figured. His was a lovely pond and Edward was his best friend. Eventually he forgot all about other ponds, and he told himself he was happy.\n\n\n-\nEdit: Formatting", "He was a goober, so they would say. A smile and wave, and then he would play. He lived in a house, bright as the sun. Walls made of chuckles, grins, and fun. Oh, how he danced and made plenty of merry. All of his friends were with him, eyes all teary. \"We'll always have each other,\" he told them one night. \"I'll remember this day, the sounds and the sight.\" He smiled so fondly as he took them outside. There was a hole, just a few feet wide. \"Goodbye my friends,\" and he tossed them inside. A tear slid down his cheek as he covered them with dirt. Now it was time to find new friends to hurt.", "Wally and Bally were two helium balloons. They were best friends. Wally was bright yellow with a smiley face. Bally was blue with a big green star. Every day they floated side by side in the gift shop, watching the people walk by. Every day they wondered if someone would buy them. \n\nOne day, a mother and her two young children came in. They were on their way to visit their father in the hospital. \"Why don't you two each pick out a balloon to cheer up Daddy?\" the mother asked. \n\nWally and Bally held their breath as the two children cheered and ran over to the balloon display. The little girl grabbed Wally. The little boy grabbed Bally. The two friends wiggled with joy as they were carried towards the cash register. They were off to adventure!\n\nAs soon as they exited the store, a huge wind blew up, snatching Wally and Bally right out of the children's hands. They swirled away across the parking lot, rising higher and higher into the sky. Faintly, the two balloons could hear the children's screams below. \n\n\"Wow, this is amazing!\" Bally squealed, looking down at the city in wonder. \"Let's ride this wind and see the world!\" \n\nHe turned back to see if Wally was behind him. And then it happened. Bally crashed straight into the antenna on top of the city's highest tower. Wally was looking straight at Bally as he exploded with a faint POW.\n\n\"No!\" Wally screamed, rushing to his friend. Bally was now nothing more than a few shreds of blue rubber hanging limply from the antenna. His beautiful star had shrunk to just a smudge of green. He was dead. \n\nWally wound his tail around the antenna and cried. He watched as a piece of Bally fell of the antenna and fluttered down to the street below. A cement truck ran over it.\n\nAt that moment, Wally knew he no longer wanted to live. He did not want to explore this world without Bally. He wanted to die. He tried banging his head against the antenna. It didn't work. Letting go, he rose higher into the air. \nHe came across a flock of birds and begged them to peck him. They looked at his smiley face and thought he was joking. They laughed and flew on. \n\nRain came down, drenching him. He was climbing higher and higher into the earth's atmosphere. Nothing surrounded him but clouds. \"How can a cloud kill me?\" Wally asked himself. \"Will I have to drift on this way forever? What is the meaning of my existence? Nobody knows I am here. Only I know that I am here. And I don't want to be here.\"\n\nHis yellow face was still smiling as brightly as ever. But inwardly, he was a broken balloon. He floated on.\n", "You know this place is special right? It's not like anywhere else, a witch actually lived here a long time ago. She cast all sorts of spells, but only the good kind. She was a nice witch, and only wanted to make people happy. People didn't trust her though, how could they trust a self-proclaimed witch? Witches in stories practiced the dark arts, they turned people into animals and ate little children, so her neighbors kept their distance and their kids were forbidden from coming near her house.\n\n\nAlex lay awake, mesmerized by the latest bedtime story. He always loved stories, he loved hearing them and would even sometimes come up with stories of his own. Lately though, Alex hadn't been able to come up with many stories, but he still enjoyed listening to them. His mom continued,\n\n\nAs the children of the town grew older they would do terrible things to the witches house. They had been told she was a cruel old woman so they treated her as such. When she left for the market they would tear up her garden, and leave mean messages on her doorstep. The witch would return and see her house in disarray, but she never got mad, like I said she was a good witch, so she would just use a little magic and put everything back in order. One day the wickedest child of all decided to do something really terrible, he would kidnap the witches cat because he believed that's where she got her power from.\n\n\nAlex's mom could see he was getting tired, \"You should get some sleep sweetheart, it's about time for bed now and we can finish this story tomorrow.\" Alex shot up, alert upon hearing the dreaded words 'bed time', and protested \"No mom, I'm awake, I wanna hear the rest!\" Alex's mom sighed, she knew he needed his sleep but ultimately decided that it would come naturally as she finished the story. Plus, she treasured this time with him, especially now more than ever.\n\n\nThe child waited, until finally the witch left giving him the opportunity he was looking for. The child sprinted to the back yard where he spotted the mangy housecat. He slowly crept up to the unsuspecting kitty and pounced upon it, expecting a ferocious fight, instead much to the child's surprise the cat practically jumped into his arms! The child let out a triumphant chuckle and ran off into the woods cat in hand. When he was a safe distance away the boy looked back and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice ask 'So where are we going?' Looking down, at the direction the voice had come from the child saw the cat looking back at him.\"I mean you do have a field trip planned, yes?\" The cat asked, adding on \"Because I love field trips.\"\n\n\n\"Wait, so the cat can talk?\" Alex had sat back up, apparently this part of the story had piqued his interest once more. Alex's mom smiled and replied, \"It definitely seemed that way.\"\n\n\n\"How can you talk\" the boy asked, \"were you a person and the witch turned you into a cat?\" \"First of all,\" the cat said, \"I am and always have been a cat, to imply I was ever a human is just insulting.\" The cat gave out what could only be described as a harrumph, \"Secondly, you never answered my question. Are we going on a field trip?\" The boy, still shocked at holding a talking tabby could only reply, \"Um, sure I guess. Where do you want to go?\" The cat looked annoyed, \"You scoop me up and now you don't know where to go? Fine, well we're pretty close to the Smith's field, but if we go a little further we can walk to the Miller's field instead, that's where the best mice are.\"\n\n\nAlex chimed in \"Oh I get it, the cat wants to go on a 'field trip', that's really corny mom, even for you.\" Alex's mom looked at her son, he looked so tired, then again lately he'd been looking tired all the time. She was happy that he held onto his distinct sense of humor. Even now he could still poke fun at her.\n\n\nSo the boy and the cat went to the Miller's field and spent the day there chasing mice and basking in the sun. When it was getting dark the boy and the cat made their way back to the witches house. As they walked together the cat asked the boy \"So why are you and all those other humans so mean to Linda?\" The boy stopped and looked down at the cat, \"Who's Linda?\" the boy asked, \"Is that the witches name?\" \"Of course,\" the cat said, \"you and the other humans always wreck her place, I mean she can easily fix it but it's still not a very good thing to do to someone.\" The boy felt embarrassed, and stammered \"Well I was always told she was a witch, and that witches are evil.\" The cat looked up at the boy, \"So you just believe whatever you're told about someone, even though you've never even met them?\"\n\n\nAlex's mom watched his eyes slowly close, it had been a long day, every day was a long day. She only now realized how exhausted she was, and yet some part of her felt like she should finish the story.\n\n\nThe boy didn't know what to say, so they finished the walk back in silence. When they reached the house the boy walked up and knocked on Linda's door, when she answered the cat bolted past her, briefly looking back at the boy almost smirking as he did. Linda looked down at the boy with a smile and said \"Ah, so that's where Sammy went.\" The boy, feeling bad about everything he had done, apologized and said \"Your cat, Sammy, he can talk!\" Linda laughed, and said \"Well Sammy certainly has a way of making things known, that's for sure.\" The boy, not certain that Linda understood him continued, \"No, like Sammy can say words and stuff!\" Linda stopped laughing and said knowingly, \"Well boy, he's never said anything to me, but that doesn't mean you're wrong. Some things are never as they seem.\"*\n\n\nAlex was fast asleep. His mom rose from her chair and slowly walked out of the room. She was in desperate need of rest as well but first needed to get something to eat, even though she never really felt that hungry anymore. She made her way to the hospital cafeteria.", "Bob the cat lived by himself in a wee cottage with a red roof on top of a flowery hill. He did not like his neighbor, Sally the dog, because she kept nosing in his business. Still, Sally was a kind dog who never understood why Bob didn't like her. One day, there was a knock on Bob's door. \n\n\"Hi, Sam!\" said Bob as he opened the door. It was Sam the pig, who had come to deliver his mail. \n\n\"Hi, Bob!\" Sam replied, cheery as ever. \"Bad news today! If you can't make your next payment, the bank will foreclose your cottage!\" \n\n\"Think you can help me out with that?\" Bob asked, eyes darting back and forth. He had already spent most of his paycheck on catnip the week before. \n\n\"No can do, Bob! Have a nice day, though! Good luck!\" As Sam wandered off, Sally popped up. \n\n\"Hi there, Bob! Whatcha doin?\" She barked, ever happy to see him. \n\n\"Uh. Hi, Sally.\" Bob thought for a while. He thought and he thought and he thought. And in his little cat mind, he hatched a plan to pay his mortgage. \"Say, Sally, do you want to be my friend?\" \n\nSally could not be happier. \"Of course I do, Bob!\" Her tail wagged back and forth. \n\n\"Okay, well, we're friends now! But I need some help. You'll help your friend, won't you?\" Bob asked, eyeing Sally's purse. \n\n\"Sure thing, Bob!\" Sally barked. \"What do you want help with?\" \n\n\"I just need to borrow some money. Not a lot. If I can't pay up, I won't have a place to live anymore.\" He tried to make his eyes as big and innocent as a middle-aged cat's eyes could be. \n\n\"Sure thing, Bob!\" Sally barked. \"Here you go! Just borrow what you need and I'll be back for it next week! Thanks for being my friend!\" She nudged her little purse towards Bob. \n\n\"Gee! Thanks a ton, Sally! You're a life saver!\" Bob purred as Sally left. He opened her bag, took the amount he needed from the wallet, and mailed it to the bank. \n\n\"Whew. Glad that's over with. I sure could use some catnip after that.\" He drew his curtains shut, crawled over to the couch, and fished an old plastic bag from under the cushions. The good stuff. \n\n\"Damn. Almost out. I guess I better give Weedy the Hippo a call.\" He took out his Samsung Galaxy S7 and dialed his only contact. \n\n\"Hey, yeah. I need more. Don't worry. I got the money.\" He glanced at Sally's wallet, which was just full of money even after what he took. \n\nA few hours later, he was sitting in a tub full of warm water, taking a long drag out of a catnip blunt. His phone rang. It was Sally. If not for the catnip, he might've remembered that he never gave her his number. But he picked up. \n\n\"Helllooooo?\" He purred. \n\n\"Hi, Bob! Do you want to play frisbee?\" Sally asked. \n\n\"Frisbee... Frisbee... What is that, some kind of disc thing? Disc thing that you throw?\" He laughed. What a ridiculous game. Only a dog would play that. \"Sure, sure, in an hour or two.\" A knock on his door startled him as he hung up. \n\n\"Wha?\" He toweled off and staggered over. \"Whossit?\" \n\nSally burst into his house, tail wagging. \"Hi, Bob! We're friends now, and friends don't make friends wait!\" She had a frisbee in her mouth. \n\n\"Eh, whatever. You really save-you really saved me there. Why not? Lezzgo.\" Bob sauntered outside and the two of them played frisbee for a while. It was then that Bob decided he liked frisbee. It was fun. Sally was fun. He felt silly for ignoring her all this time. \n\nFor the next few days, Bob approached Sally, asking if she wanted to play frisbee. The two became the best of friends. \n\nUntil exactly seven days later, when Bob knocked on Sally's door, frisbee in hand. \"Hi, Bob! Got my money?\" She asked, eyes lighting up at the frisbee. \n\n\"Oh, uh, I've been so busy playing with you that I didn't catch any mice, so they didn't pay me!\" Bob laughed. \"I'll get it to you next week.\" \n\nSally's tail dropped and she glowered for a moment. Suddenly, she smiled again. \"Sure thing, Bob! Anything for a friend.\" So they went outside to play frisbee. Later that night, Bob woke up to a noise in his room. It was Sally. \n\n\"Sally, what are you doing?\" Bob asked. \n\n\"Friends don't make friends wait, Bob.\" Sally growled.\n\nBob tried to move, but his limbs were tied down. \"Is this about the money? I told you, I don't have your money yet!\" \n\n\"You got money for all this catnip, don't you?\" Sally barked. \n\n\"Sally, please, I thought we were friends!\" Bob begged. \n\n\"Right. Just cuz I'm friendly doesn't mean I can't tell when I'm being used!\" Sally shrieked. Bob gulped as he noticed the rope tied to his kneecaps. \n\n\"Sally, calm down. Do you want to play frisbee?\" Bob asked. \n\n\"No...\" Sally said. \"I'd rather play TUG OF WAR!\" " ]	7
Forgot to say that every story must follow the lore of the previous. Feel free to add anything to the lore.	[WP] Write an anti-fourth wall story that includes penguins and a calculator	[ "\"Dammit, Simmons! Do have those numbers or not?\" Captain Rogers roared down at the new recruit. He fiddled with a calculator, flippers nervous and sweaty.\n\n\"I, I, I don't know, sir! The math is right, it has to be! I've ran the numbers a dozen times. Honest. According to the math there is a barrier, right there.\" The young penguin tapped a spot on the chart. \"And that's the only accessible spot in our third dimension. But if we can get to it, and find a way through, oh man. Sir, we could break through the fourth wall!\"\n\nThe Captain beamed. He hadn't been this happy since his asshole father in law got ate by that psychotic orca in '03. Good times. He shook his head, more nostalgia later. \"Hot damn, Simmons! That's promotion material right there. You, you beautiful newbie, you might just even become my best friend.\" Simmons' eyes beaded up with tears. Rogers laughed. \"Nah, just kidding. Friends are for saps. Let's go!\"\n\nThe rocket laid beneath the ice of an ancient glacier. The penguins had discovered it years ago. It took some time, but they managed to get it back in working order. The head penguin on the project, a brainy little guy called Chaz, perked up at the Captain's approach. \"Ah, there you are. We're all ready here, Captain. Is your crew assembled?\" Chaz fell in step beside Simmons. The Captain pressed forward into the bunker, his little penguin waddle brimming with ego. In the mess hall, they found the crew. Five penguins, the baddest of the bad. \n\nThere was Jessie, the only penguin anyone had ever heard of killing a whole pack of sea loins with her bare flippers. She was as beautiful as she was deadly. \n\nGunther had gone on an exchange program to the North Pole back in the day, he came back wearing a polar bear pelt. The pelt of his host family's father. There were no more exchange programs after that.\n\nSmitty was fiddling with a gadget of some guy. Word had it he rigged an old oil tanker to blow with just a piece of chewed gum, a paper clip, and a rotten fish head. He was also the one to go to in case something went awry on the trip.\n\nAnd last, but certainly not least, came Rebecca. Rebecca was cool under fire. Rebecca had survived more than her fair share of assassination attempts at the hands of all manner of hostiles. Orca, sea lion, door-to-door Jehovah Witnesses. Rebecca had a calm about her that spoke of her experiences, and spoke her ability to pull through. Her knowledge of physics and quantums and theoretical realities would prove vital should their mission succeed.\n\nRogers nodded. \"We're good to go.\" The crew packed up and made their way to the rocket. The tech crews waddled like mad, last minute preparations were all but finished. Suddenly, alarms went off. The cry went out; security breach.\n\nAn explosion to the left blew out a chunk of the wall, and took out Chaz. All that remained was a charred penguin butt and flippy flappy little feet. Simmons barfed up at least a half dozen fish as the attackers poured through.\n\nOne stepped forward and ripped off their mask. \"We can't allow you to do this! We are the members of the Anti-Fourth Wall Legion, and by God that wall will not fall!\" The hostile waved a flipper forward, and the battle began." ]	1
	[WP] You are absolutely immortal. Completely deathless and ageless. And you just heard it on the news that the planet will be completely shattered in 12 hours by an asteroid.	[ "Full disclosure : This story actually happened a few years ago, but I think I can finally put my thoughts in order to make it coherent to you, me dear reader(s)? \n \nI was 30 when I became immortal. I couldn't die, couldn't get hurt, wouldn't even age. I guess age is just a number at this point. \n \nSo anyways, the planet was expected to receive a catastrophic extinction level event. Something which would lead to the complete destruction of our planet. \n \nThe Minstery of Defense waited. They fucking waited to tell us, even though they knew for weeks, possibly even months. They said it would have evoked panic, possibly the end of our culture. \n \nPersonally, I would have done drugs, and waited out the time is bliss. Of course the benefit of me not knowing, is having more time with my fiance. \n \nSo after the \"event\", I drifted through space for a few months. Speech wasn't possible. Breathing wasn't possible - I felt like I was choking for months straight. On the plus side, my allergies cleated up. \n \nFinally - and I am not sure how fast I was going - I saw a blue speck in the distance. I was unable to steer, so as the ball got larger, I hoped I would smack into it. For a time, I wasnt so sure. \n \nI got closer and close, and the blue became green and white too. My belly was also starting to bulge. Hunger? No, something else. \n \nAnd then we smacked into the planet, and right before I did, I saw giant lizards with feathers. And then I dreamt. \n \nI'm not sure how long I slept, but there was a giant crater where we/I landed. You 2 were born shortly thereafter. My twin babies. You shalt be known from this day forward as Evesam & Adama. Welcome to Urt. \n \nNow its time I go into the nearby cave and sleep. Its been a tiring journey - who knew you can't sleep in space. ", "On one my many pot couch days with my friends we had the same topic. I explained this same theory trying to figure out what would happen if I was immortal and my planet blew up with no other planet to run to. It's obvious that I wouldn't die but what comes after is a greater fear than death. Possible eternal loneliness if our planet is exploded and you are flinched in the wrong direction (which is most likely) it could take EONS to reach any planet whatsoever not only that but even if you do reach a planet what's the chance of it being habitable. You also have to take into account of other anomalies that occur out in deep space that have or don't have knowledge of. Also you cannot breathe in space and it is freezing out there and since your body needs to breathe would you be floating in a temporal death state sort of like a coma until your lungs are filled with air or would immortality take over and decide you don't need to breathe so you float for what could feel like an eternity. Idk how immortality works but you would definitely end up going completely insane otherwise, but hey at least u got pretty colors to stare at, probably some crazy stories of floating into countless asteroid fields or space creatures you met hell you might even find god. Idk it's pretty crazy.", "I'm the last one left on the beach. \nNobody else is concerned with conserving beautiful memories. They wish to experience comfort, or happiness, or contentment at their last moment, not panic. And so the world has come to this. Millionaires all swallowing pills filled with poison. Medical vans giving out countless lethal injections to people. I watched someone take one a little while ago, on the other side of the beach. The tide swallowed their body. \nIt should be night, but the burning rock has already taken up the sky.\nI suddenly noticed that tears were burning my eyes. My home for so many years, set to be destroyed. Boredom, pain, loneliness. All will crescendo inside of me as I spin through space, hoping desperately to die.\nKnowing, with equal desperation, that I cannot. \nThe meteor is close now. Any minute, it will hit. \nI close my eyes. It is burning as bright as the sun, even through my eyelids.\nI lie back on the sand and feel the cool water between my toes.\nGoodbye.", "I finally let my heavy eyelids fall, and took a deep breath to release it as a sigh. I had lived nearly two hundred and sixty years, but my world was about to be shattered by a stupid rock. Well, I suppose everyone's world was.\n\nThe news had just announced that an asteroid would hit Earth in 12 hours, and that it would destroy the planet. As you may be able to imagine, this was particularly concerning to an immortal such as myself. Not only would I be losing the only home I had ever known, but I would be living through it. \n\nThere is no way for me to die. Many have tried to kill me throughout my several lifetimes, and none have ever succeeded. It had become rather inconvenient at times, especially the times I was drowned, beheaded, or buried alive. Somehow, my body would always find a way to keep going. Some part of me would regrow, and I would be forced into consciousness until I was safe.\n\nI did not feel very safe at that moment. The voice of the news broadcaster contained a sort of fear that I recognized far too easily. What that lady had been told was not my main concern at the time. My main concern was that the fear in her voice would be recognized by many others, which would cause panic and hysteria.\n\nThe life I was living at the time of the announcement had only started five years ago, but it had felt promising. It was the first time after eight years of being nobody at all that I had felt the urge to settle down. I had all the time in the world to do what I pleased, so I did. What I hadn't realized was how little time that really was.\n\nAn hour later, I went outside to get some fresh air. Nothing was exactly fresh about it, but the view of the sky helped to clear my mine nonetheless. The view of frenzied people quickly undid this feeling.\n\nI had eleven hours to come up with a plan for what to do. I did not know if I would be able to breathe on the desolate wasteland that Earth was soon to become. I also did not know how long it would take me to adapt to this change. Perhaps Earth would find a way to regrow after this impact, and I could continue to live with the comforts of food and water.\n\nAfter ten minutes of thinking, I was fairly unhappy about the idea of never breathing again. That's when I decided to obtain some sort of spacecraft. \n\n\nPlease tell me if you want more. =)", "My body writhed in agony as the cables racked my brain with pulses of electricity. My helpless body strained at the restraints; I had long since given up telling my muscles what to do, and now they simply spasmed randomly from the flow of current. Anyone else would have died hours ago, but they knew, designing this apparatus, that I wouldn't.\n\nThe human brain can hold precisely 431 terabytes of information. Of this, you need 5.6 terabytes for basic operation like breathing and eating, 2.5 for personality, and 17.2 for rational thought processes. The remainder is free memory space.\n\nI had no memories of my own anymore. To be replaced by a more condensed data format, they said. I'd get them all back eventually, towards the end of the stream. Apparently, all I've ever done or experienced can be downloaded in 12 minutes, so they said. Not a permanent loss. But they needed a blank canvas to work with.\n\nWikipedia. Encyclopedia Britannica. The entire works of Shakespeare. Enough classified documents to make the Pentagon Papers look like a post it note. The source code for Google. The list went on. Every single item that the world's leading minds had decided I needed to preserve. \n\nAnd now, I could recall them at will. In theory, given enough time, I could recreate all of mankind's advances over the past 6,000 years. And I would have plenty of time, with everyone else gone.\n\nAs I got to the end of the stream, a message flashed through my mind.\n\n\"We are sorry.\"\n\n\"We lied to you. We told you that your memories would be restored to you. But that was not the case.\"\n\n\"As we are sure you can recall by now, humanity, despite all our advances in neuroscience, has never found a way to understand and interpret human memories. And, if you are reading this message, then despite 12 hours of the best efforts of neuroscientists from around the world, we still have not.\"\n\n\"We have attempted to fit as much information about your life into these last few gigabytes as possible. Birth records, family photos, and every secret dossier on you that we've ever had. But we know that nothing will ever come close to what you have lost.\"\n\n\"Sorry.\"", "It's kind of sad to see it all go, especially when you watched it all happen. Watching the gods create it out of nothing, this tiny floating sphere. Watching life bloom across it's surface a shining crystal of hope. Along the way, I've watched the coming and going of countless lives, helping them out just the tiniest bit.\n\n At first, I was immune to the lives of the beings, but then... humans. They sprouted and grew like weeds, spreading across the surface like a plague. But they had so much hope! They loved and lost, they cried, had tiny little adventures every day, and passed away in the nights. They had families, and communities... And now? They panic. They scream in terror at the news of the asteroid. And there's nothing I can do.\n\nNot yet. And in just a few more hours, they will be gone. And I will have helped each soul pass. Each will cast their gaze into my starlight eyes. Each will react with hope about heaven, or fear for their atrocities. And I will guide them. All of them. Because what else can I do?", "There was a sudden flurry of chaos. Arms, coats and bickering heads were waving about wildly as the flock rushed out the door. A few moments later, the bar was empty except for myself and the old timer sitting across the bar. Even the bartender had left his post. I guess work would mean very me too if I were at all worried about the impending doom. I take the last swig from my rocks glass then reach over the bar and grab a bottle of scotch, fill my glass, and set the bottle next to me. I take a quick swig, look at my glass, then back up at the newscast still playing on the hanging television. I dump the cheap swill onto the bar floor, walk around the bar and grab the bottle of Black Grouse from the top shelf. I fill my glass, take a swig, and sit back down at my usual stool, bottle of Black still in hand. The old timer whistles to me and raises his empty glass, at which point I slide the bottle across the bar. He fills his glass, slides it back and takes a nice big sip. “Ah, that’s the good stuff” he exclaims with a look of satisfaction. After that, the bar went quite. Even the newscast, which was previously showing clips of the chaos outside and around the world, went silent. I guess the news crew had the same idea as our bartender.\n\n I sat there a few minutes thinking about what I will do next. There was no need to rush home to my family. All of my loved ones died many years ago. It seemed useless to troll the streets pillaging shops and banks for their resources. What good would a 60” flat screen do me without people to star in the shows? And what good will money do me without an economy? I guess the one thing I would miss after everyone else was gone, would be the warmth of a women’s embrace. Perhaps Sophia would be up to having one last night with me? But, she’s probably already heading to her family’s house uptown. \n\nI notice that the old timer has finished his drink, so I slide the bottle back over to him. He fills his glass and nods in appreciation. I wonder why this old man has stayed here. He slides the bottle back over to me, and as I top off my glass, I ask him “So, how come you’re still here? Don’t you have a wife or loved ones? Wouldn’t you rather spend you’re last moments on Earth with them?” He begins to scratch at his chin through his thick, white beard and says, “well, I’ve been sitting here wondering the same thing myself. I guess it’s times like these when a guy discovers exactly what type of man he truly is.” The old man took another sip of scotch before continuing, “Yeah, I guess some are family men, and some are greedy fools. And others still are too dumb to know any better. But as for me, the bar is where I belong. I’m a drunk… always have been… always will be. In the end, at least I can say I was surrounded by those I truly loved.”\n", "That was it. No more scandals. The absolute truth was revealed by a movement that fought for transparancy. Only little time left. The world was in it's peak of chaos. So it seemed at least. The people found out. \r\n\r\nI couldn't remember the time, or better said; what year? My mind was foggy. The sound of the radio faded away. A last broadcast. I turned it off. The final hours of silence. A tribute to a rare phenomenon. Some still raged against, while others peacefully accepted reality for what it was.\r\n\r\nThe door creaked in protest as I crammed myself through the opening outside. It was dusk. The singing of a local choir echoed in the valley. The forest was calm and the wind blew dust across the field. I travelled for many years and had seen many places when I decided to settle in a old cottage near a small village for a few decades. \r\n\r\n\r\nA silhouette approached, slowly appearing from the rugged terrain. There she was, a quiet girl from a nearby village. She looked straight at me with a soft smile on her face when it suddenly all came back. Feverish thoughts paralyzed me. Generations ago, across the seas, in different times, was when she passed away. Flickering visions of her quietly sleeping in. I promised that one day, we would meet up again, it was a goodbye. Never a farewell as it occurred to me.\n\r\nThere we stood. The sky became bright. Our shadows became sharply painted figures rotating around us on the ground, the shape of our bodies as a piece of art.\n\nA dance, \r\n\na ritual, \r\n\na communion,\n \r\nan expression of ourselves,\n\nA final glance when the light absorbed us.\r\nWe will be forever, she whispered.\n\n\n\nEdit 1 & 2; text and grammar. English is not my first language.", "My dear unknown friend,\n\nIt’s been a while since I last wrote to you. I was beginning to get out of habit of doing that.\n\nI have just heard the planet is on the path of complete obliteration. So I must wonder what this means for me. If the planet disappears, do I do too? How? There is no instruction manual for my kind of peculiar. I just cut my finger one day while slicing a particularly slippery onion, stuffed it into my mouth by habit right after, and felt no taste of iron in my mouth. For a moment, I must have looked like a confused toddler, before finally remembering that I should probably take a look. There was no blood, though I clearly felt the blade sliding through my flesh. It stung. It hurt. But there was no blood. No wound.\n\nI am old, though. At this point, my main concern is the logistics of the matter. Will it hurt? Could it possibly hurt more than that one time in 1793 when I managed to wind up as guillotine fodder? That was a hard one to explain.They seriously considered burning me at the stake, but eventually figured that attempt wouldn’t fare much better than the guillotine did.\n\nMany have tried to end me, and they have all failed. So many different, despicable deaths dreamt up for me, and not one of them successful. After all this time, I still do not know whether I could survive just floating in space, without food, air, gravity, sound. Guess no one ever thought of ejecting me into space as a potentially successful method of killing me.\n\nAll this being said, my heart does ache. Attempting to entertain myself with the logistics of dying doesn’t fully manage to draw my attention away from one thing. You see, my old friend, my family is afraid. My bright-eyed wife and my sweet little daughter. Each time I loose them, it hurts even more. This is my final letter to you. I’m going to hug them now and for the next twelve hours I won’t let go. If there’s any justice in this world, I know this is not going to be the end of me, for that I do not deserve. But if there’s any mercy, I’ll will perish too.", "Adam, the first man, sat back in the rocket’s cockpit looking toward the heavens. The countdown would start any minute now. \n\nHis training had been intense but because he needed no sleep he got it all done in relatively no time, not that he needed much training, they positioned the rocket to blast him directly into the asteroid that raced toward earth, he was just the lead in the bullet. \n\nAll he had to do was sit and watch.\n\nYou see, Adam was created by God, and as Gods first creation he had a few flaws. \n\nOne of them was that he never aged, he was the same age he was when he was created, a man of 30 or so years. Another was that his atomic structure never changed, which accounted for his age being static. \n\nThe third flaw was the one that put him in this hot seat, His atomic structure was dense, real dense, so dense that no matter what he could not be damaged, not even pierced or penetrated.\n\nSo when he heard the world had 12 hours before it was completely split apart, he used his contacts to get him a meeting with the heads of Earth. After some debate over the possibility of this even working and many demonstrations of his ability and inability to be punctured, they decided he was Earths last choice.\n\nAdam had lived long, too long, the Bibles accounts of the earth being created and man being made were way off, he had been around for millions of years, not 10,000. He had seen many generations rise and fall, civilisations come and go, the world going from fully populated with technology that could just about reach the stars! To being destroyed with nuclear weapons and the slate wiped clear.\n\nEvery time one such extinction event occurred, an angel would come down and give him the task of repopulating the entire human race. Many women would come and go from his bed, his only solace was that he could walk in the garden of Eden each time. Tasting of its many fruits. In all of time nothing tasted sweater than the fruits of his youth, and god provided it every time he needed the world to be rebuilt. How could he resist?\n\nThis generation was different though, the current humans were very headstrong. God had completely wiped the majority of them out due to pig headedness multiple times. \n\nFirst with fire, then with icy winds, then with water. \n\nThey never learnt their lessons though, they continued to pray to gods that don’t exist and even pray to the devils and demons themselves who were in fact the maintenance crew of the earth, with their own pig headedness, desires and folly.\n\nBut that was a story for another time, currently Adam sat looking up. If this worked then he would worry about being known, if it didn’t… well either he would be dead and not have to worry, or god would put “humpty dumpty” back together again, maybe something new would be in the garden this time?\n\nWhat if this was gods fourth try? He remembered one girl from the garden, one famous girl, Eve. She had been born directly of Adam, God had thought maybe she would be better off not being completely made of God, but made of Adam himself, the only one to ever stay true to God.\n\nHe had personally asked Adam of his rib, and even though no pain come of it, he still touched his side as it always felt missing from him. She had disobeyed Gods direct order and had eaten the apple. That stupid gardener raking up the leaves told her to try it, both knowing full well it would displease God. \n\nBy the time god knew what she had done it they had multiple children and the population program was well under way.\n\nMaybe this was to destroy it all including Adam and start again? Adams eyes widened, but then he relaxed as he knew it didn’t matter, he had a good long run, he had marvelled at all god had created since he first created earth. He had known loss yes, but he had also known love.\n\nThe count down had started and he closed his eyes, a big smile spread across his face as he clutched her rib to his body. Yes he had known love indeed.\n\nThe rocket raced toward the asteroid on what could ultimately be the end of humanity, from the very first creation, to the very last born.\n", "When the Supreme Leader cast this curse upon me, he made it quite clear of my circumstance. Unlimited life accompanied with everlasting youthfulness. I remember my excitement like it was yesterday, mainly because, it was yesterday, on my eighth birthday. \n\nI still haven't come to terms about having a life without ejaculation, but I suppose if I never have an opportunity to experience puberty, it won't matter much. \n\nThat was my biggest problem, but now, apparently the world is going to end. The failed NASA missions happened months ago, leaving the important people enough time to evacuate this forsaken marble. \n\nFor fucks sake, I wouldn't even be able to finish my Star War's Lego set. The Supreme Leader must be getting a kick out of this. \n\n\"Hey Supreme Leader! It's me, Bobby! I know you just did a pretty swell thing by me, but is there anyway you can get rid of that asteroid coming this way? I would really like to finish my Lego set.\" \n\n\"Hello Bobby. I'm afraid not. The Earth needs to be recycled. It will be your job to repopulate what remains of it.\" \n\n\"Repopulate!? I can't even jerk off, how the hell am I suppose to do that?!\" \n\n\"No? Oh...my mistake, you're a human. I forgot that you don't go through puberty for a few more years. Woops. Oh well, I guess that's the end for you guys then. I'll go a notify the lady in China about the mistake.\" \n\n\"MISTAKE!?!? Aren't you all knowing or someshit!? How do you forget something like that!?\" \n\n\"I make mistakes just like the rest of the Supreme Leader's, okay!? Give me a break. It's tough work commanding this part of the universe.\" \n\n\"Yea, but this mistake is going to be the end of humanity. Billions of people will die, with no hope of ever existing again. Do you want that on your conscious!?\" \n\n\"Hmm, I guess not. Well, what would you have me do!? Do you want to be able to repopulate, or would you rather me get rid of the asteroid and let everyone live?\" \n\n\"Fuck everyone else. Give me some semen, and while you're at it, bring me to China.\" \n\n\n\n\n\n", "It had taken nearly 6 hours of driving, and another 4 dodging various lunatics. But finally I reached my goal. We had 12 hours, they told us, before a rogue asteroid the size of Europe impacted the Earth with what was going to literally be an earth shattering Ka-boom. \n\nThe extinction level event I wasn't too bothered about, when it came down to survival it was me, roaches and Keith Richards vying for the top three, and I was ahead. Un-killable, immortal, and as far as I was able to test indestructible. The impact was not my worry.\n\nHowever, spending the rest of eternity floating around in a celestial rubble pile wasn't on my to-do list thanks. I don;t know if I cold die of boredom, although the five years I spent walking across the pacific ocean floor came close. But too heck with that for the rest of time you know.\n\nSo, here I am, roughly a mile away from the point of impact. I got a nice view over the little valley from up on this ridge and I'm just kicking back for the last few hours, sitting in a beach chair drinking a white russian. Got my shades on and I'm just waiting for the big finale to fling me out into the cosmos\n\nI can't say I'm too surprised that it's getting kinda crowded down where they say the rock is coming down... still, might as well go out with bang I guess. here's to you humanity, you knew how to throw a good party man. ", "The world is ending in 12 hours and my hope is that I end with it. \n\nThis isn't my first apocalyptic event, or anything like my first one either. My first \"end of the world\" actually filled me with fear. That was back when I didn't know how special I really was. I've grown not to fear much, being immortal tends to take the edge out of most things. Even when every news station in the world is declaring that an asteroid will shatter our Earth. Maybe my curse will go with it.\n\nThere's no fun in being immortal when you've seen everything, done everything, and learned everything. I even gave up on love after watching a couple of generations of my family growing up and dying. Everyone is destined to be claimed by death and most desire immortality. The one person who actually is immortal desires death, funny isn't it? Oh well, three hours to go and I will have my answers. \n\nI always spend the few hours before the end of the world reflecting on my life. Everything feels a bit more special when I think like a mortal in the face of death. Speaking of, everyone is going crazy. Looting has broken out everywhere, crime has skyrocketed and any law enforcement left has given up. All within a few hours of the announcement. It used to amaze me but now it's just irritating. That's why I always find the quietest place I can to reflect and enjoy the peace. The night sky has always filled me with a joy I couldn't explain, even today. I stare at it tonight and notice one of the stars seem a lot closer than the others. Maybe that is our destruction? \n\nWith only twenty minutes to go my heart began to race a little. Excitement? That's a feeling that has been hiding for a few years now. Maybe this is it? The end. \n\nTen minutes now. The star is definitely getting closer, and has a visible trail of fire behind it. It is certainly of planet shattering size, blocking out most of the night sky. My heart pounds a little harder now, maybe it's fear I'm beginning to feel. It's been so long I can't be sure. I'm far enough away that I can watch as the asteroid rips through our atmosphere and slams into the ground. The force itself was enough to knock the air out of me. A moment later and everything erupts. Everything goes black.\n\nI open my eyes to a whole lot of darkness. Death? Is this it? The chunk of Earth that was blocking the sun shifted through space and revealed that no, this was not death, this was worse. ", "Once upon a time,there was and absolutely immortal man.He was completely deathless and ages less.\n\nSo there he was eating cheerios for breakfast one morning, remembering his time one earth like fighting in american civil war,shooting Nazis in WWll and also where he ended up last Sunday after drinking too much...\n\n\"ahh memories\", he said\n\nhe turned his flat screen tv on to watch the news as he had been doing for a long, except before the invention of the television he would do so with tthe good old newspaper and before that... well...gossip?\n\n\"I remember when Televisions were about as thick as chavs skull...\"\n\noh yeah,he really hated chavs...they had developed over the years to become increasingly annoying and illiterate...\nSo he switched on to bbc news and carried on eating.However one particular headline caught his eye,to be honest it was the only headline and it read :\n\n\"BREAKING NEWS\"\n\"THE WORLD IS TO END IN TWELVE HOURS BY AN ASTEROID IMPACT\"\n\nhe replied with,\n\n\"Fuck\"\n\nand went back to eating his cheerios\n\nI mean,you gotta enjoy the little things in life,right?\n\n", "The thing with probability, I reminded myself as I hurtled through the numbing blackness of space, was that given a particular set of circumstances, any value over zero meant that success was inevitable given enough chances and enough time.\n\nFor example, say a man wants to fire an arrow and shoot the head off a match a hundred yards away. Unlikely, I know, but given enough arrows and time, eventually one will spin its way through the air in a perfect series of pirouettes so it splinters the match’s wooden head.\n\nThis mantra of probability was one I had told myself in various forms over the vast stretch of years I'd lived in this galaxy. \n\nWaiting for the explosive blossoming of this solar system.\n\nWaiting for the first cellular lifeforms to coalesce in the foamy brack of the Earth’s endless seas.\n\nWaiting for mankind to reach out to the stars with infant-like wonder.\n\nWaiting for those same stars to reach back under the hurtling shadow of an enormous onyx hunk of rock and metal.\n\nAnd now tumbling among a clattering cloud of Earth's floating debris, carried like a stone down the velvety blackness of an endless well, to land on another celestial body and begin waiting for life to swell forth all over again.\n\nI have no idea how long it may take until I am drawn into the smothering embrace of another planet’s gravity, but just like the arrow striking the match head, I know that given enough chances and enough time, it will happen eventually.", "The wailing of sirens, animals, and people all drifted in through the open window. One jumbled cacophony of noises all lifting up at once. It was...oddly comforting, not to mention bittersweet. A reminder that mankind was still around and a reminder of what I would be longing for soon enough. From some distant locale, the rumble of an explosion echoed, followed closely by the blare of car alarms being set off by the resulting Shockwave.\n\n>Damn it! I knew I should have gotten dressed sooner. I'm missing out on the all the excitement. Where the fuck is my 'good' overcoat? If I'm going to witness the world, I'm going to do it in STYLE!\n\nTo the \"casual person\", this kind of rubber-necking would seem mean, maybe even sociopathic. But social nuances were the last thing on my mind. This was the last chance I would have to witness \"humanity\" and I was not about to waste it. My eyes fell upon the leather travel satchel hanging by the door. It's stitching and embroidery still just as strong and vivid as it was way back when. An indestructible satchel, bigger on the inside than the outside. Every Immortal worth his salt had one and always kept it close by.\n\nThrowing on my overcoat and boots, I made damn sure to grab the bottle of \"pills\" from the counter. I didn't like the thought of taking them but I knew better than to let my emotions get in the way. Not taking them was a mistake I would NOT be repeating. I may be 'Immortal' but there are ways of coping.\n\nGrabbing my trusty satchel and rushing out the door, I turned back to lock it as I had done so many times before. But my mind paused as I stood there, key held out in mid-gesture.\n\n>...What for fuck's sake am I doing?! The whole damn WORLD is ending. What difference does it make? So what if someone takes the safe? If they can get that two-ton motherfucking titanium lockbox open in this amount of time, then they are MORE than welcome to it!\n\nI found myself laughing as I turned back around and stepped out onto the front lawn. One thing was for sure. I would NOT be missing the dinghy, dilapidated, derelict apartment building that had been my home for the past twenty years or so. Or was it thirty? Regardless, I had grown strangely comfortable with that living situation. So many people had questioned why I bothered to stick around for so long. Which never failed to pissed me off.\n\nWhen you live for as long as I have, human depravity becomes a crude albeit welcome source of 'entertainment'.\n\n>\"There you are, you loudmouth bitch! I know you're the one who snitched on me! Where you going? Don't act like you can't hear me!\n\n>\"...Loudmouth bitch...is that the best insult you got? Seriously?! I've heard toddlers come up with better words than THAT!\"\n\nWhich was certainly true. The Spartans sure did a bang-up job raising their kids. The Persians too.\n\nI couldn't help but smile as the wheelchair bound redneck stared first in shock, then realization, then finally anger. It was fascinating, watching the spittle flying from his flapping lips. As sorely tempting as it was to \"poke the angry bear with a stick\", I heard another explosion and was reminded that time was not on my side.\n\n>\"You know what? As much as I'd love to help you out with this 'insult deficit' of yours, I've got better shit to do with my time.\"\n\nI sprinted off, leaving Mr. Redneck behind on his porch, his spittle still flying. Down one street then up another, short-cutting across lawns and yards. Ignoring the glares and shouts and raging gestures of overly territorial home owners. Until I finally spied my destination: Downtown.\n\nA cityscape usually filled with the hustle and bustle of traffic and commerce. Now an epicenter of anarchy and chaos. My mind was snatched back to the chaos that had gripped the city of Troy as the Greeks went on their rampage. Fire, smoke, ashes, the screams of women, the crying of children, the bellowing of men. It was all so...so eirally similar.\n\n>Damn it, the Wanderer was right. History DOES repeat itself. ...Just where is that crazy bastard now? I wonder if he's just as fascinated with all this as I am?\n\nI shook my head and tried to ignore the sorrow welling up inside. The Wanderer, as he called himself, was not just another Immortal. He was the one who raised me, who taught me everything I know. He found me when I was but an infant, swaddled up in a sack. I owe that lovable bastard so much.\n\nTo think...to think we got separated during the chaos of those two world wars. I distinctly remember watching as the Germans carted him off. I tried to get to him. I tried...and I failed. I failed him and I still have yet to forgive myself for that.\n\nAnd now, I had to entertain the possibility that we'd never find each other. I had no inkling of what to expect post meteorite impact. I am Immortal, yes. But I still feel just like any ordinary person. In particular, I remember the Salem witch trials. The fire...the burning...the echo of my own screaming, the envy burning equally hot as I wished I could be mortal. At least the others accused of witchcraft found an end to their suffering. There I was, tied up, cursing with vulgar words and vile oaths alike the hourglass scar that adorned my left hand.\n\nThe mark of an Immortal. The reason why I always wear leather gloves. I hate having to be reminded of my so-called 'blessing'.\n\nIt didn't help any that my survival was definitely noticed and still more attempts were made to kill me. Two more stake burnings and a few 'drownings' to be specific. That shit gave me Nightmares for years. And ever since, I'd find myself stricken by dread whenever I was around open flames or open water.\n\nWhich was one thing. Until I developed a 'fetish' for dread, which turned it into a whole 'nother bucket of fish altogether.\n\n>Hmm. I am feeling dread, now that I think about it. I've been cold before...and suffocated too. But never both at the same time...and never for so long. There'll be fire too. Lots of it. The whole world is utterly fucked. How long will it take? The actual destruction of Planet Earth? If only...if only the Wanderer were here, with me. He'd be nailing it with that gallows humor of his. And I'd be laughing right along with him.\n\nI reached into the satchel for the pocket watch I always carry with me. A thirteen hour pocket watch. A cherished gift from the Wanderer. So what if I had to do mental gymnastics to figure out the actual time? And besides, giving panic attacks to superstitious people was more than worth the effort. Only ten hours left...and I had to make every last hour count.\n\nI returned the watch to its place, my hand bumping into that bottle of pills. Pills that would make me sleep. Sometimes for days...and sometimes for years. There are just not a lot of options for coping when you're Immortal.\n\nAnother explosion rippled through the air. This one being much closer and carrying the distinct sound of combusting petroleum. I took off in that direction, struggling not to dwell upon the magnitude of the situation. My Immortality would soon be put to the ultimate test and the undulating beauty of acrid fire would be a welcome distraction.", "The pain wouldn't be a problem. Sure, there'd be a lot of it, but it'd pass, and be like a blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things. I'd faced worse before, and assuming it didn't hit me directly, I'd probably be fine. Better find a bunker to hide in so I don't get blown of the planet by the winds, though.\n\nThe food wouldn't be a problem either. After all, hunger might rear its ugly head but I've gone for centuries at a time without food. Just a distraction, really, to one who doesn't need it.\n\nThe air probably should be fine - of course, I hadn't ever been exposed to the near vacuum of space, but surely if I didn't need food or drink I wouldn't need to breathe either? Wait and see, I guess.\n\nThe boredom - well I had a portable solar panel and a laptop and spares to last for millennia. The cold might get to them but it wouldn't be for a while yet.\n\nBut the crushing loneliness...\n\nPerhaps immortality wasn't the prize it had seemed.", "From Earth it looked like a falling star, purple and silver, trails of bright blue, flaking and falling and shimmering as it went.\n\n\"S'a lov'ly way t'go, you think 'bout it,\" said Sam, who was old and brown and scaly as a lizard, frog tongue swiping at the rim of his sweaty, green bottle. The drinks were free at Freeman's Ale House that day. Money wasn't worth much, after all. \n\nSam and Wye and Paul were the only ones left just then, sitting on stools in the open doorway. There'd been such a racket at first. Screaming and horns and yelling at nothing in particular. People coming to terms. But that was over now. The terms had been met. People were praying or huddling or fucking or pulling out guns and pills and getting ahead of the curve.\n\n\"You know what I never did say?\" said Paul, leaning forward, reaching up, as if he could pull the asteroid down and stuff it in his pocket. \"I never said how it started.\"\n\n\"They got books on that,\" grunted Wye. \"Mum made me read 'em when I was a pup. God and Adam and his lady. I read 'em 'cuz she made me, Mum.\"\n\n\"That's just books,\" said Paul, shaking his head. \"Books don't know. And that book knows less than most.\"\n\n\"Tha' righ'?\" said Sam. \"Always made me mine tha' book. Them ten commands. All that. You sayin' it wer'n' true?\"\n\n\"I'm sayin' it's a book and books is just books.\" Paul stretched his back, which popped and hissed like a Model A. \"It was an argument. That's what started it. We - he and I - we had an argument.\"\n\n\"'bout wha?\" said Sam.\n\nPaul grimaced. \"That I don't remember. It was a long time ago, mind. Anyway, it must've been a thing, because the long and the short of it was he made this place for me. Just to get me out've his hair.\"\n\n\"This 'place'?\" said Wye. \"You mean Cardale?\"\n\n\"He means Erth, dummy,\" snapped Sam. \n\nWye made a face. \"So what...this whole place is some kinda prison...just for you?\"\n\n\"Less a prison and more a room over the garage,\" said Paul with a smile. \"I think he thought we just needed some space.\"\n\n\"So what's this?\" said Wye, pointing at the sky. \"You gettin' kicked out?\"\n\nPaul sighed. \"That's...I don't quite know what that is...\"\n\n\"'e di'n' say?\" asked Sam.\n\n\"We don't talk,\" said Paul, quietly, maybe ashamed.\n\nWye slid off his stood and spun around. \"Does he even know about all the rest of us? You ain't the only one lives here!\"\n\nPaul's eyes dribbled slowly to the ground. \"Can't say.\"\n\n\"You got 'is number?\" asked Sam, helpful as always.\n\n\"In a manner,\" said Paul, still withering under Wye's glare. \"But it's...I don't know if I can...\"\n\n\"And why the hell not?\" shouted Wye. \"What if he don't even know we're all down here? Maybe that asteroid's just for you and it's got nuthin' to do with us. We're three hours out from the biggest goddamn kaboom that's ever been seen. I don't see the harm in askin'!\"\n\nPaul cleared his throat. \"Well, it's... in truth, I guess maybe I do remember a bit about the argument. The one that started it all. I...\" He hopped to his feet and began circling the small triangle of stools. \"I had a few, let's say...radical ideas when I was younger. Really wanted to shake things up.\"\n\n\"Tha's always tha way with youths,\" said Sam, sage and patient.\n\nPaul glanced up at the asteroid, falling still, sparks of bright blue, heart of purple flame. \"More than that. More than that. I, uh...I tried to take over...in a sense.\"\n\nWye's eyes narrowed. \"Paul? Are you...? From the book? You know...with the horns and the pitchfork and all that?\"\n\n\"Books are books,\" said Paul sourly. \"Life is more complicated than books. He's not gonna listen to me. I know he won't. I know...\"\n\n\"But 'e's fam'ly,\" said Sam, uncomprehending. \"Fam'ly forgives. Always.\"\n\nPaul shook his head. \"Not me.\"\n\n\"You oughta try,\" said Wye, softer than before. \"Just see.\" \n\nThe asteroid passed across the face of the sun, growing, darkening, throwing purple and orange shadows across the pub and the three men. Paul closed his eyes. He thought of many things, of many places and many people. He thought of lives lived and lost and forgotten. He thought of Earth and all that it had meant to him - all the years spent hating it and all the centuries spent loving it more than he'd ever thought possible.\n\nHe opened his eyes and smiled, wan yet hopeful. \"I'll see what I can do.\" ", "Only one thought was present in my mind. Oh,I'm not afraid of the pain. It would hurt, of course, but I would survive it. No doubt about that.\n\nI had no fear of loss, either. I had lost that fear fear æons ago, the moment I had realized I completely forgot even the name of my first love.\n\nNo, just one thought prevailed and everyone could hear me mumbling it for the last twelve hours this planet had.\n\n\"Oh no, not again.\"" ]	19
	[WP] Everyone is granted the ability to control their dreams. The catch is that if you die in your dream, you lose your ability to have dreams (and nightmares) for the rest of your life.	[ "I'm not sure how much longer I can keep doing this. It can't be healthy. I have to stop. Today.\n\nI've been meaning to quit for weeks now. Meaning to, but the temptation is just too great. I remember when we first received this power--I could barely contain my excitement. I think I went to bed six, maybe earlier that first time. Once I realized the implications, I couldn't wait to start dreaming. Now, come evening I'm an anxious wreck. Every night I tell myself, \"Not tonight, no dreams tonight.\" Every night, I falter and find myself repeating the same dream.\n\nShe's starting to catch on, I know she is. I can't bring myself to tell her the truth, but she could always tell when I'm lying. It's no exception with this. Even in her frustration, though, she continues to be loving. I can hear her downstairs as I straighten my tie in the mirror. As I put on and button my sport jacket, I let out a heavy sigh. Today is the last day.\n\nShe greets me as I make my way out the door. She kisses my cheek and says, \"Have a great day, honey.\" She hands me a thermos of coffee. It's just like every morning was for the last several years, but it's different today. I can see in her eyes that the secrecy is hurting her. Truthfully, it's hurting me too. I thank her and force a smile. I think she could tell it wasn't genuine, but I slipped past her before she could speak. That was not a conversation I was strong enough to have.\n\nThe car is cold, but I don't bother with the heater. I leave the radio off as well, and drive in silence towards my office. I'm barely paying attention to my surroundings, but these roads I know well enough I'm able to drive them almost purely from muscle memory. The cars around me are wispy shadows, their taillights leaving hazy trails in the fog. Before I know it, I'm crossing the bridge into the city.\n\nThis is it.\n\nI wrench the steering wheel to the side. Everything suddenly is brought into sharp focus--the blaring of horns, the detail in the clouds over the side of the bridge, the feel of glass bouncing off of my skin as my windshield shatters and I go careening through the guard rail. For a split second, it seems as though my car will continue gliding forever.\n\nThe hood of the car dips sharply. The water below rushes up towards me. I yell, not out of fear but from a mix of primal rage and fear. Just as the car impacts the water and it comes pouring in...\n\nI wake up. The bedroom is dark. I haven't been asleep very long. I roll to look where my wife used to sleep and gaze at the picture I keep of her smiling face on the nightstand. Seeing her in my dreams was a blessing, but I need to move on. I almost felt healed before all of this started, and now I feel like I haven't made any progress. I feel just as shitty as I did the day she died.\n\nBut I need to move on. No more dreams.\n", "Y'know what writer's block feels like? Where you're filled with angst and fragments of good ideas and tropes are dribbling gently down your left nostril but there's nothing that actually makes it down to the paper/typewriter/laptop/visualiser/intwrnser in front of you?\n\nDreamer's block is something similar. This is why people buy dream scripts off of Amazon. \n\nSafe things. Wet dreams, dreams of being rich, or successful, or of doing better at things than you did in the day. Dreams of gentle satisfaction that woke you up feeling well rested. Dreams surreal and warped, full of crazy raves that were sold in back alleys like drugs, because some people preferred them to real life. My brother was like that. Right up until he overdozed one day, and lost it. Now he works, works out, works hard at work till he near-collapses of sheer exhaustion and tries to forget how it was when he could slide out of this pointless reality into one that he could control. One where he was the center of the universe. \n\nI can't say I'm any better. Just luckier, perhaps. Instead of having to jink for weird dealers in shady dreamatoria, I rely on my imagination, when it works. Let's try this once more. ./init, as it were.\n\nAw, cupcakes.\n\nIt is hard to write about your thoughts, feelings and emotions on a normal day. On a day like this when your limbs ache and your belly demands reparations for injustices inflicted upon it and your swollen sinuses make it feel like your head is stuffed with cotton and bits of barbed wire, your thoughts are mostly that you feel your emotions can go and stuff it.\n\nLet's see. The snow's very white. And other things as well. White paper, white cloth, the inside of an apple, the walls of a particularly unimaginative hospital that hasn't been introduced to depressingly pastel shades yet. Bones, babies and bathwater. A white bathtub starts out white.\n\n...\n\nAnd I was in a white room. No doors, no windows. No sense of time, or of size. I still had form, luckily, I could see my feet if I looked down. I thought of my brother, and his dreams, and the white room started contracting. Not that it had any size I could measure or guess at, but it started shrinking anyway, by the strange logic that makes perfect dreamsense. \n\nI imagined a doorway, and escaped. As I jumped through, my brother's dreams followed me, like a persistent rash of worry, screaming like tires hauling desperately for traction on icy pavement. Blackness and prickly feelings on the back of my neck I forced away and tried to think of happier times. Of a girl I once knew and thought I loved, in a green meadow in a sundress. As she walked towards me, I saw that she had no face, and screamed, to realise I had no mouth as well. I tried to move, but found that I was sinking into the soft ground. I could smell the fresh grass. I frantically conjured a well and managed to topple in.\n\nThis is not how dreams were supposed to be. There was control. There was order, and wish fulfillment. I don't know what to do. The helplessness if stifling. Please, please, let me wake up. I don't know what is happening to...\n\ndeep breaths. \n\nA bass beat punctuated the shut down synapses. A sharp green light punctuated the dark wall, highlighting shadows of dancing figures in what was one of my favourite pubs. Or one of my favourite ideas of a club, the diamond ball in the ceiling twinkling with a light of its own, the dancers wearing illuminated wrist and headbands that picked them out in syncopating shapes across an intimate, comfortable floor. I felt the inebriation of a dozen shots hit me as I imagined it doing so, and the beats shifted, synchronising to my rising pulse as I cut loose, closing my eyes and moving to the groove, bumping shoulders with the pretty girl beside me, her perfume playing legato notes across my nostrils in imagined neon colours. \n\nTill I observed myself doing this, in a box, from the space that was no space, a part of a tree that stretched out in more directions I could comprehend. The system was breaking, again. The lack of my sustained thought was breaking the system. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Dreams did not begin or end, they did not stop and think about where they were going. They did not stop and analyse themselves. Tropebreakers were not allowed the luxury. \n\nI had come back from this before. All I had to do was imagine that this too, was part of my dream. That I was still in control. After all, it was my dream. My tired neurons assimilating the memories of a busy day, and perhaps being a little meta about it. Think of yourself sitting at a desk trying to write this down. Think of yourself in front of a projector explaining this to an appreciateive audience, foremost among the dream researchers. Think of a good reality, and it will be yours, as long as you dream it.\n\nBut perhaps I don't want to. Perhaps I don't deserve it, this utter control, this limitless power that gives me the ability to think that I live in a reality where the dreams give me control. Perhaps that reality has been my dream. It is so bloody frustrating that being able to do everything utterly paralyses me. That in this world of color the inside of my head is grey. Is nothing capable of original thought? What do I do? What can I do? \n\nEverything. \n\n...\n\nand so I dream of nothing. Forever.\n\n\n", " All people are granted control of their dreams, to a higher degree than their control of their lives.\n There are those dreamers that dream wreklessly, and paint their world rhinestone technicolour. That ride the wild waves of imagination trying their best not to fall off. \n \n These dreamers live as they dream and the lines blur and mend each side of perception. These dreamers bring back even at risk of dream death the fire that illuminates reality. \n\n There are those other dreamers that insulate themselves in dream, while away their dream lives in mild and insidious comfort. \n They also live as they dream. They do not bring back the fire to reality, they do not risk lighting the world with their own pyre in life. \n\n A dream is a old friend to any that need it, a dream shared is worth the loss of dreams all together. \n\n To dream wreklessly, and tirelessly. To run heaving from the darkest things your mind can conjure is to live. The lesson and the gift far outweigh the nights you wake up trying to scream, frozen in sweat, with a demon on your chest. \n \n", "I never asked for this. In fact, I was quite happy the way things were before. Sleep was my friend, there to take me away from the pressures of the real world. I had no responsibilities there. I could just escape for a few hours and let my subconscious entertain me for a bit. Now that's all changed. \n\nHere I am, every night, sitting alone in an empty room. Trying to think of something to do, somewhere to go, someone to be. The anxiety almost wakes me. Most nights, I dream of watching re-runs of old shows I've recorded in my memory. It's not exciting but it is something. I rather enjoy these dreams, as I seem to feel calm once I awake. But still, I long for adventure. I've come to terms with the fact that I lack the bravery and confidence it takes to be somebody in the real world. But to be such a coward in my own dreams is rather depressing. \n\nI suppose this fear stems from the realization of the risks involved. I could stay safe and mildly entertained while I rest, or be trapped in a void of nothingness for all nights to come. I imagine I'm not the only one who evaluates the situation like this. There must be others like me. Though if there were, I would not feel any comfort from knowing. The problem lies within. I must change. Tonight, I stare fear in the eyes and beat it back with a sword! \n\nI suddenly draw my weapon from its sheath and march onward to find glory. As adrenaline runs through my veins, I too run through a grassy field. The cool night air causing my eyes to water as a gain speed. My vision is impaired and I lose my balance, tripping over a nearby rock. My glorious blade flies above me as I collide with the dirt. Acceptance washes over me as I watch it fall in my direction. But in a twist of fate, the sword only pierces my leg, saving me from a lifetime of shadows. \n\nI quickly reconstruct my surroundings, and spend the rest of my dream in a modern hospital to recover. Luckily, my favorite show is on the TV in my room." ]	4
	[WP] The chains didn't seem so stifling until I got my first true taste of freedom	[ "I entered the chamber slowly, unsure of myself. It was dark for a second, then \nlight flared. I turned toward the entrance, ready to flee, but she was there, \nthe giantess. Fully three times my size she filled the entrance and blocked my \nretreat. Her hand was resting on a set of levers to her side, out of reach for \nme a good distance up the wall. That must be how she controls the darkness. I \nwill try to remember that. \n\nShe watched me closely as she effortlessly flicked the second lever. A deep \ndroning sound filled the room and I crouched, wary. The giantess split her face \nat the mouth and bared her teeth, making a repetitive sound from her chest. \nThen she pointed behind me and spoke. \n\nShe spoke to me, often, in my time with her. But I never understood what she was saying. Her language was too different than my own. I wailed at her, my tormentor. She pointed behind me again and pushed her other hand toward me repeatedly. I had learned by then that gesture meant she wanted me to move. I reluctantly turned around. \n\nA large, smooth, white monster greeted me. It was all mouth and chin. It \nappeared to be wearing a hat made of my people. I shuddered. The giantess loomed over me from behind and grabbed the beast by its face and forced its mouth open with ease. Its maw gaped, large enough for me to be swallowed whole, but it made no motion. The monster was either dead or uncaring. Still, I leaned back on my haunches, shying from the sight. My captor boomed another sound at me and pointed to the beast's lip. Then she bent and scooped me up as if I weighed nothing and placed me upon it. The monster did not even breath, but spit pooled in its mouth. There was a faint fetid smell emanating from it. \nI cried out and tried to scrabble back, but the giantess held me firm, turning me to face away from my demise. Did I do something to offend her? Why was she trying to feed me to this monster? \n\nStrangely, and surprisingly gently, she began to massage my belly, repeating a short word as she did so, like a chant. I stared at her, transfixed, until I felt my body betray my nerves and I shat directly into the monster's mouth. The giantess broke her mouth open and bared her teeth at me again, bobbing her head and gyrating her hips in a strange dance to my sacrifice. Then she reached one hand over my head and pressed the beast's ear. It growled, flinging spit across my back side and swallowed my excrement. I struggled mightily against \nher hold and she released me, finally, and I made my escape from the chamber.\n\nOh, I see, she must keep me around to feed her pet monster. That's why I'm here. That's why she refuses to let me leave. \n\nThe giantess cackled behind me. \"Good kitty, good kitty.\" she exclaimed, whatever that means. \n\n____\n[Things I've written](https://www.reddit.com/r/cbeckw/)" ]	1
	[WP] A hyper-advanced alien race views humanity as an endangered species. You, along with thousands of other humans, have been taken from Earth and placed on a planetary wildlife preserve.	[ "\"Wait, he's stirring. Make sure your translators are set.\"\n\n\"Maybe we should put him back out again.\"\n\n\"No, this can be illuminating.\"\n\nThe young man struggled to open his eyes after waking from his induced slumber. As his eyes fluttered open, he captured the images of the unfamiliar visages before his eyes. He was, however, still too groggy to put everything together. When he did, his eyes tore themselves open and his body felt a surge of energy. With one pull of his arm, he manage to escape the clutches of one of his captors before forcibly rising. With one solid heave he pushed another some considerable distance before it fell back to the ground with a resounding thud. His instincts took over and he immediately broke into breakneck sprint. None of the vaguely humanoid figures could keep up with his pace. Unfortunately for the young man, they didn't have to.\n\n\"Activate the containment field.\" One of them called out. In that moment a grid shaped fence that was composed of a humming light sprung from the ground cutting off his escape.\n\n\"Calm down. We mean...\" One shouted from a safe distance.\n\n\"Calm down? Calm down! What the fuck!? I didn't kidnap you and take your clothes.\" Marcel said as he successfully struck one of them with a thrown pebble.\n\n\"I told you that would be an issue. I figured they wore clothing when we took them, so they would want them.\" One in the group muttered. \n\n\"Hush...\" a voice responded from the group. \"We do not want to resort to violence.\"\n\n\"You fuckin' threatening me. I'll open your neck with my teeth if you get any closer.\"\n\n\"Let's try a sedative.\"\n\n\"No, I want him awake so we can converse with the subject.\"\n\n\"Fine, a mild one then, to calm him down.\" \n\n\"I wish the fuck...\" A hologram of a menu seemingly sprung from nowhere or at least no where that the young man could see. At that moment an overwhelming wave came over him that forced him to his knees. His balance gave way and he fell to the ground, crawling and unable to form coherent thoughts.\n\n\"I said mild.\"\n\nIn a moment however, he forced his wobbly legs to listen and he forced himself up.\n\n\"I'll take care of him.\" One stepped from the group saying. \"The rest of you don't have the tact for this. Go process the others.\" He turned to the man. \"Marcel, Marcel Perot correct? I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to explain what's happening. Here,\" He gestured to a small white chest covered by what seemed to be immense technology: several flashing lights dotted the white exterior. \"Just say your name.\" Hesitantly, Marcel complied and the box sprung open on its own. The contents of the box included a skin tight suit that looked to be what his abductors wore and a single pad that seemed to be composed of only a blue crystalline material. \"You were injected with a serum filled with nanobots that is coursing within your blood and nervous system. They give us a number of readings and status updates concerning your body. They also are the reason that you are, well..., sedated.\"\n\n\"Why am I here?\"\n\n\"Well that's a complicated answer. Come take a walk with me.\"\n\nWith trepidation Marcel pulled on the suit and allowed it to adjust itself and followed the strangers lead. \"Is it comfortable?\" Marcel nodded in response. \"Very well, I suppose I owe you an answer. This entire planet has been terraformed and stripped of its megafauna for your species to call it home. Or rather the members that we have selected, meaning you and a collection of nearly ten thousand of you. You see, your kind's resemblance to my people is uncanny: we've never encountered another race, sentient or not, that has matched our appearance in this way. I mean, there are obvious differences like complexion, but no other species has come close to causing the controversy you have. So after much debate, we decided to take a number of your kind for the sake of conservation.\"\n\nMarcel broke his instructor's lesson. \"Conservation! So what is this? Some kind of wildlife preserve?\"\n\n\"No, rather it is a whole star system that you shall have governance over. Many of my kind took to favoring you. They saw your tumultuous history of conflict driven by geo-politics, ideology and culture as well as your armament and thought that your kind may very well wipe itself from existence. Climate change, nuclear war, or any number of events seem fated to end your existence. Some think that your discovery was fated. And that we together are fated.\" He pointed to the resting figure of a woman. \"She's to be your mate.\"\n\n\"My mate. No, no no no no no...\" Marcel stuttered out. \"I can't, no I won't be a part of this.\" \n\n\"Nonsense. She is, genetically and psychologically speaking, the most app mate that we can find among our host. She will be a suitable companion, and your genetic material will complement one another producing stronger and healthier offspring.\"\n\n\"No, you won't force me to sleep with her like I'm an animal to be bred. What's to say she would even agree?\" \n\nThere journey ended as the two stood over her.\n\n\"Attractive isn't she. She's like you, you know. Considered herself mixed. You would consider her of Latin American and West African origin. We thought you both would like this considering your own pride in your collective mixed origins.\"\n\n\"You know that?... Of course you do.\"\n\n\"Yes, Western and Central European as well as West African and Indigenous North American origins. We thought these factors along with disease history, similar ethics and morals, education levels, and number of other factors like your shared US citizenship help make you two compatible.\"\n\n\"Can we put some clothes on her.\" \n\n\"Yes, give me a moment.\" He opened a case and placed the self adjusting fabric on the young woman. As it shifted and changed, the two continued.\n\n\"So why all this though? Couldn't you have just be like, guardian angels or something and prevent bad stuff from happening? Why take me away from everyone and everything that I knew and loved and then tell me its for some greater cause?\"\n\n\"Because some thought that would be too intrusive. I argued against this project in the first place, thought it was unethical to begin with. But once it passed, I figured that I would make sure it was done right. In a matter of your solar rotations, a number of prefabricated settlements will be placed here roughly matching the levels of technology that you're familiar with but with many improvements. Don't need you playing with each others' genes. You argue about circumcision, so I can only imagine what the debates about genetically modifying your young to suit your wants would look like. Its inconsequential to me...\" \n\nMarcel slumped down. Tears streaming down his face looking over the horizon and staring at the rings that both engulfed and divided the skyline. \n\n\"This must be difficult for you...\"\n\n\"Don't... I can't even begin to...\"\n\nTheir conversation was broken by the groaning of the woman.\n\n\"Our reasons aren't exactly altruistic. Some see you as an experiment, a case study. I suspect its part of our vanity and our pride. Some see it as evidence of divinity. I see you as unlucky. I can't imagine my response if it where me in your shoes.\"\n\n\"Stop... just tell me what's the long term game here. What's end game for us?\"\n\n\"Well i suppose integration within our society. Some even estimate that we are capable of producing viable offspring from cross species unions. I think that's what many would suggest is the goal. Making or proving that you could become superior to your former selves by becoming us.\" the stranger said with a strained and conflicted chuckle.\n\nThe woman's eyes began to flutter open and so Marcel and his companion knelt beside her patiently awaiting her awakening.\n\nMarcel clasped his hands around one of hers. He attempted to hide the face of anxiety, fear, and anger that he wore. He instead wanted it be one of warmth and kindness. \n\nShe opened her eyes and said, \"Well, shit.\"\n\n" ]	1
If you need more inspiration (or maybe unaware of what X-COM is). Extraterrestrials have invaded way too early. Kingdoms fall before them one after another, and aliens spies are everywhere. Only possible source of technologies, that humanity dearly need to have a chance to retaliate, are aliens themselves. Fortunately for humanity, you, Tomás de Torquemada, have the ways.	[WP] X-COM 1483 AD, led by Torquemada	[ "The demons of hell wore a skin of grey, eerily inhuman with its child-like body and misshapen large heads. They had no mouths to speak with, or to scream with perhaps, and their glowing red eyes were large fists. They were only the lowest of the demons, and there were some even more fearsome. The most worrisome of them were those that looked human. Taller, thinner, eerily pale, but human in its form nonetheless.\n\nIn the Holy Office at Castille, Tomas de Torquemada leaned forward on the desk, shifting his weight to his knuckles until it felt numb. His eyes roved around the maps strewn about the desk, as though looking for something but in actuality his eyes were simply restless. He had never liked the waiting. He looked up at his room, at the scattered papers and his eyes locked on one particular sketch, of a man tall and thin. It was unmistakably human save for its serpentine eyes, usually shrouded by scarves or hoods. Somewhere in La Mancha, he sent his men to retrieve that creature.\n\nThey needed to capture one of them, to know how to differentiate them from others. They needed to know which ones to kill.\n\nOf course, the crowns of Castile and Aragon would not sanction such a delusional demon hunt. They would denounce him, think him a madman, and so he disguised it as a hunt for heretics, the unfaithful, and the witches. In part, he was hunting for all those, just not in the way anyone would expect.\n\nThree knocks came from the door.\n\n“Come in,” Torquemada said.\n\nAntorcha came in, followed by one of the new soldiers he sent to La Mancha. No one else followed. A bad sign.\n\n“So soon?”\n\nThe new soldier looked down and did not answer, staring at the floor, past it, and still saw nothing. His jaw hung slack, lips partly open. Torquemada had seen this look far too often, and he did not like it.\n\n“What’s your name, son?” Torquemada asked.\n\nAntorcha nudged the soldier.\n\n“Juan Pedro de Laguna, señor,” the soldier looked up, a fire lit once more in his eyes.\n\n“Can you tell me what happened?”\n\nThe soldier’s eyes flickered for a moment, as though it would slip into lifelessness once more, but instead he simply looked away, “Poison.”\n\n“Poison?” Torquemada guided the young soldier to an empty seat.\n\n“Yes, Grand Inquisitor, poison,” Juan Pedro said as he lowered himself.\n\n-----\n\nThe town was silent when Antorcha dropped us off, five of us - Captain Valera, Enrique, Sebastian, Fernando, and me.\n\nThe Captain surveyed the town, its emptiness, and the huge iron ship in the town center. He heard one of his men, Fernando, mutter a curse under his breath.\n\n“That’s their ride,” said the Captain, without breaking his study of the field. The entire company watched him in silence.\n\n“Enrique, Sebastian, you’re to take to the roof of that house,” he pointed to a distant house, with a wooden ladder conveniently place at its center, “Lay low, and keep your eyes on me. I will be approaching the town from the gate. Once I give my signal, Sebastian, fire your arrows at the nearest demon you can find. If you can, try and hit their heads. They’re unusually big. Enrique, you will stay with Sebastian, but keep your distance, should anyone attempt to move closer, plant a bolt between their eyes. Clear?”\n\n“Yes, sir,” the two answered in unison.\n\n“Good. Now, if Sebastian is hit, you are to take his bow and continue firing the arrows. Fernando, Juan Pedro, you’re to move to the right side of town. You will not show yourselves, even if you hear us fighting. Go and circle them, and only show yourselves once their backs are to your crossbows. Understand?”\n\n“Yes, sir.”\n\n“Then let’s move out,” the Captain hefted his spear and grabbed the two small crossbows strapped to his chest.\n\nAs the company spread out slowly and moved closer to the town, they began to see the demons in the middle of the square, with a man in the middle, dressed in the black silk of the nobility. Captain Valera laid his back flat on the stone gate, and watched as Fernando and Juan Pedro disappeared to the right. He looked up and saw Sebastian flat on the roof, seven arrows laid down beside him. A good distance back, Enrique held his crossbow close. The Captain gave the signal.\nEverything happened in the span of a few moments. Sebastian stood, drawing an arrow and launching it at one of the gray-skinned demons, hitting its head. The Captain ran forward, one of his crossbows in hand, and fired it at another. Almost at the same time, two fell. As the serpentine man saw and pointed at them, Enrique jumped forward, firing his crossbow at another gray-skinned scrambling for cover. The thin man scrambled for cover and two more gray-skinned demons followed suit. Then there was silence.\n\nAs Enrique was about to fall back, the thin man appeared and spat a green fluid. It had a disgusting stench, that grew even more unbearable as it engulfed Enrique, melting the skin off his face and spreading into a green cloud. Sebastian ran, but he breathed the cloud and soon, his eyes bled, then his ears, then his skin raptured. The two of them fell, their bodies still smoking.\n\nThe Captain took the opening. He moved forward with his other crossbow and lodged one at the thin man’s shoulder. The man fell, then the Captain realized he was in the open. The two gray-skinned demons lunged out, one of them far from him, standing as though dazed, its eyes aglow in a purple light. The other gray-skinned demon moved - faster, stronger, more alert - its eyes also aglow in a wan purple light. It lunged at him, and in three leaps covered what would have taken a horse five. It raised an arm, a steel piece in his hand glowing green, then suddenly its head snapped back, its eyes losing color.\n\nThe Captain turned to the other gray-skinned demon, just as it fell flat on its face, a bolt planted on the back of its head.\n\n“Madre de Dios,” the Captain muttered.\n\n“What happened?” Fernando emerged from behind some low houses, followed by a trembling Juan Pedro.\n\n“Poison,” the Captain turned his nose. “Their sacrifice will not be forgotten.”\n\nThe three of them moved to the still alive, but unconscious thin man. The Captain turned to Juan Pedro, “Call Antorcha, we’re done here.”\n\nJuan Pedro moved away, then heard a loud hiss. He turned sharply around, and saw Fernando's skin melting from his face, showing a red bloody mess. The Captain’s skin bled, tears of blood flowing from his face, and he said one simple word, “Run.”\n\nAnd Juan Pedro did.\n\n-----\n\nIn the Holy Office at Castille, Tomas de Torquemada made a mental note of the poisonous thin men, serpentine indeed. Perhaps they shed like serpents, too, and hide underneath their eerily pale skin a serpentine body.\n\nHe looked out at the window. There will be more engagements, and it will be bloodier. But as always, he muttered to himself, “Vigilo Confido.”" ]	1
	[WP] You are given the task of completing a video game. Every time you die in the game, someone else dies in real life. The game is Dark Souls III.	[ "It had started subtly, with the occassional man or woman suddenly falling over.\nThen someone fell over in the UN, even the president wasn't safe. \nTime passed as this mysterious illness took life after life.\n\n\"You're really not good at this game.\"\n\"Shuddup, I'm going through this game even if it kills me.\"" ]	1
What would be in front of your eyes?	[WP] You live in a world where everybody is born blind, and the world is built for the blind. One day, you wake up and you see.	[ "I have never liked doctors’ offices and normally, I avoided them at all costs. But something was very wrong with me. I’d been having these sensory hallucinations for weeks. I had tried to ignore it for weeks, but rather than getting better, it kept getting worse. It was impacting my ability to work, I had taken so many sick days that my boss insisted I go to the doctor or he was going to fire me.\n \nThat was how I found myself sitting in Dr. Zawilinski’s office on a warm summer afternoon partaking in the joy of a icy metal doctor’s table on my bare rear and the overwhelming odor of antiseptic and rubber mixed with the peppermint the doctor had eaten sometime shortly before my appointment. Dr. Z had run every test he could think of, and despite his best efforts, nothing looked out of the ordinary. I was apparently a healthy guy.\n \n“Jack, all your test results are coming back fine. The scan is good, your blood work seems fine, your heartrate is a little bit elevated, but my gut is telling me that has more to do with the panic you have yourself in than anything else,” he commented, taking hold of my hand and finding my pulse. His fingers were cold and hard.\n \n“Dr. Z, there’s something wrong. Something serious,” I insisted, my voice cracking slightly.\n \nHe let go of my wrist and tapped his fingers together thoughtfully, “You’re going to have to give me more information about what you’re experiencing.” He walked back over to the computer and started typing. I could hear his fingers striking the keys, and the dull whir and swish as the tactile screen’s pegs shifted and presented the data from the tests he’d been running. He made a thoughtful clucking with his tongue as he ran his fingers across the words displayed there. I could hear the grinding of the scroll wheel on the side of the screen as he moved the words up and down, reading. Once he found the information he was looking for, he pressed his fingers into the spot he was focusing on the screen and started to the new information in. The screen’s whirring and swishing resumed as he typed. He stopped a few times to run his fingers across the text he was typing to make sure he hadn’t made mistakes. \n \nI let out a small groan of frustration and ran my hands through my hair, “I don’t know how to describe it. It’s just so weird. It like, I can sense things that don’t even make a sound. I’m really losing it. How am I supposed to work like this,” I demanded, my voice rising in pitch.\n \n“You have to give me something,” he urged, “I can’t diagnose ‘It’s weird.’”\n \n“It’s almost like a headache, but not really, or like . . . I don’t know, it’s just like a hallucination, I don’t know what else to call it,” I stammered, trying to describe something that I simply didn’t have the words for.\n \nWith a sigh, he rose to his feet, heels clicking as he came over and stood in front of me. “Are you in pain?” he asked, pressing his fingertips into the sides of my head, carefully feeling his way to the top of my head, searching for bumps or anything to indicate some kind of head injury.\n \n“No, nothing hurts,” I replied, “But it’s better when I close my eyes.”\n \n“Better when you close your eyes? What do you mean?” He asked, dropping his hands.\n \n“It almost goes away. It’s still there, a little bit, but mostly it goes away,” I did my best to elaborate, but I didn’t have the words to effectively describe what I was experiencing. “I’m just tired of having to remember to keep them shut all the time. This can’t be normal, can it?”\n \n“Interesting,” the doctor remarked, his voice taking on a slightly excited tone. “I mean, I have a theory. I feel a little foolish even suggesting it, but I suppose anything is possible, modern science has taught us that.”\n \n“Okay . . . “\n \n“Please open your eyes,” he demanded.\n \nI did as he asked and immediately regretted it. The hallucinations started in full force, a swirling confusion of sensation assaulted me. “How long am I supposed to do this?”\n \nHe waved his hand back in forth in front of my face. Instinctively, I followed the movement with my eyes, and closed my eyes. It was unsettling to say the least, “Why are you doing that?”\n \nDr. Z chuckled and moved back across the room. The chair by the computer squeaked as he eased into it. “Do you know what a vestigial organ is?”\n \nI swallowed, “I’m not sure. I think I remember hearing it back in high school, but I never really paid attention in science, not really my thing.”\n \nHe typed into his computer some more, “Well, it’s an organ that no longer has any use. Probably the one people immediately think of is the appendix. We think that once, a long time ago, it helped with our digestion by keeping a storehouse of essential bacteria, but we don’t eat rotten food anymore so it’s not an issue. The tailbone, isn’t really an organ of course, but it’s all that’s left from the tail our primate ancestors used to have. The most recent organ that we consider to be vestigial are the eyes. Several hundred years ago, we used to have a fifth sense. It was beyond hearing, smell, taste, or even touch. People used to be able use their eyes to perceive the world around them and didn’t need to rely on machines to guide us like we do now. Perhaps you’ve heard of ‘seeing’ or ‘sight’ before? Occasionally the words pop up in reference to historical figures,” he added cheerfully.\n \n“It rings a bell,” I commented. It was a very distant bell, to be honest. It wasn’t just science that had failed to pique my interest as a teenager. School in general had been something that I barely tolerated. “Vaguely,” I added sheepishly.\n \n“I think, for some strange reason, you’ve developed this sense. Your eyes appear to have reverted to a state similar to what our ancestors would have had,” he said with a small chuckle. “If I’m right, it’s really quite amazing. I don’t recall hearing of this ever happening my entire medical career.”\n \nI shuddered, “Is there a way to make it stop?”\n \n“Stop?” the doctor repeated, surprised.\n \n“How do I make it go away?” I demanded, gripping tightly on the edge of the table.\n \nDr. Z’s voice was horrified, “Why would you want to make it go away? This is an amazing scientific discovery. Do you realize the possibilities of such a thing? What if we could learn what caused this to happen to you and could give the same sense to others,” he asked.\n \n“No,” I snapped, “I don’t care. If you know how it works, you know how to make it stop. Can we make it stop?”\n \nThe doctor let out a sigh, “I mean, theoretically it would be as simple as using a laser to pierce the eye and sever the optic nerve, but-“\n \n“Can you do it here? Can we do it now?” I demanded, my heart was pounding with excitement.\n \nThe doctor’s chair squeaked and his footsteps moved to be in front of me, “It’s possible, but I think it would be a terrible mistake. You may live to regret this decision. You should take some time to think about it,” he said, the dismay in his voice was clear.\n \n“No,” I insisted, “There’s no reason to wait. I’m not going to change my mind. If you’re wrong, and this isn’t the problem, is there any danger to having the optic nerve severed? Could it cause any side effects?”\n \nThe doctor let out an unhappy groan, “Not really. As I said before, we don’t actually use our eyes anymore-“\n \n“Do it. Now,” I insisted.\n \n“Wait, now I’m not sure I’m comfortable with destroying the possibility-“\n \nI grabbed his arm, “Doctor, I know that you don’t have the right to deny medical treatment to a patient just because you want to see what might happen. There are laws against allowing medical suffering to continue to satisfy scientific curiosity.”\n \nHe let out a reluctant sigh, “If you’re certain you want to take this route . . .”\n \n“I’m completely certain,” I insisted.\n \n“Alright,” he said, the disappointment clear in his voice. “I’ll get the paperwork. You’ll have authorize the procedure.” He went over to his computer and began typing, preparing the medical forms, all the while muttering and objecting under his breath. \n \nAfter several minutes, I heard a small wheeled cart across the floor. “Place your hand on the authentification pad,” he ordered. The machine rumbled and the pad heated up slightly as my had was scanned and my handprint was used to verify my identity. “I want you to know that I included my comments that I objected to this procedure in your medical file. If you have regrets, this office will not be liable.” He hesitated, “We can’t undo this, you understand?”\n \n“That’s fine. I won’t regret it,” I assured him, almost giddy with the anticipation of ailment being fixed.\n \nHe wheeled the cart away and I heard the distant creak as one of the arms of the surgical machine in the center of the room was pulled down. “Hold still,” he commanded and secured my head in the brace. There was a series of beeps and the arm locked into place. I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to.\n \nThe machine was humming, gradually becoming higher until it sounded like a faint whistle. “Alright, as soon as you’re ready, open your eyes. The machine will automatically perform the procedure as soon as it perceives your eyes are in the right position.”\n \nI drew in a deep breath and opened my eyes. For a moment, I was dazed by the brilliance that invaded my senses. I’d never experienced anything as dazzling. Light. The word rose from somewhere deep in my memory and I again wished I had the words to describe what I was experiencing. The light grew more intense, shifting and dancing. The machine’s hum suddenly dropped, followed by a low beep and an explosion of light. As quickly as it had appeared, the brilliance faded as was gone. I found myself once again submerged into familiar, blank nothingness and I blinked my eyes rapidly, not feeling nearly as relieved as I had expected.\n ", "Darkness had been the first thing people knew, and the last. They lived in it. It was their home. People bathed in it, they eat in it, they fucked in it, they slept in it. \n\nPeople walked in it, they ran in it, they marched in it. \n\nPeople shouted in it, people killed in it, people died in it. \n\nPeople cried in it, laughed in it, sang in it. \n\nEvery day, darkness consumed their worlds, the light never once touching their eyes. They were ignorant but they were happy, and that had been all that mattered. For the only world they knew was one of darkness. It was a world where it the darkness dictated. It ran the schools, its book and classrooms made for it. It ran education, its teachers and tests made for it. It controlled the government, its buildings and politicians made laws for it. \n\nSex was controlled for it, pain was necessary for it, and love was burdened by it.\n\nPeople had created a society in it, for it, and from it. Nobody lived outside of it. \n\nUntil one day, a man, young but wise, awoke one morning and could see. He could see colors, he could see faces, and he could see sadness. He could see it all around him. The anguish and pain was worn too well by the ones around him. They wobbled in it, fell in it, and cried in it. He saw their tears, a clear liquid that stained the face. He saw their pride, which gave their eyes a fire. He saw their laughter, a joy that spread onto him. He saw their beauty, and the words left him, for he had none to give. Nothing could capture it. Nothing could compare to what he saw. Nothing could prepare for him for what he would see as he made his way out into the world. For what he saw first upon stepping out into the hard ground was his fellow humans synchronizing methodically to some unseen drum, each one with a bored look on their faces. Here, he saw the same expressions he had thought beautiful on their own, now turned to a mask of grey clay, all molded to the same world view- Darkness. \n\nWhen he saw this, he wept, and fell to the ground in tears. As he wept, they passed by him, aware but not concerned, for all they saw was darkness. \n\nHe lay there like that, dejected and alone, until the sun fell beneath the trees. It was here he decided that he needed to tell them what he saw- what he could see, and most importantly, what everyone could see. \n\nIt was with this plan that he set off, and his words, though they could be heard, never once penetrated the darkness. Instead, he had been arrested and tried, and sent off somewhere far away from society, where his vision was to be removed so that he could become intimate with the darkness once more. Though he endured the pain and anguish with stead, he eventually became too wounded to carry on, and thus the darkness surrounded him once again, making him forget the very words that gave the darkness back to him:\n\n\"Everyone rejoice and open your eyes! For god is not real and religion controls us all! Free your mind from the darkness! Enlighten yourselves with truth, and surely your bright lights will illuminate the world!\"\n\n\n- Got to say, this prompt is a bit dumb- a world designed for the blind by the blind couldn't exist, everyone would just die out. The only thing I could think of was using a metaphor. " ]	2
	[WP] The United Galactic Conference is just days away. The Elves and Dwarves are rumored to be on the edge of another conflict, while the Orcs can't seemed to be bothered.	[ "“ORDER! I WILL HAVE ORDER!”\n\nVorg reclined in his chair as the Elvin Prime Minster abused his mallet, a feeble attempt to reign in the chaos of the chamber. His voice modulator was set to the highest setting but cries of Elven MPs almost drowned out his electrically enhanced requests. The viewing gallery Vorg and Gok sat in was packed with visitors from other planets, each typing away furiously, the war loomed large. Vorg leaned over to his companion, another Orcish observer, and spoke in a hushed tone.\n\n“He cannot contain their fervor any longer-they will deploy the fleet soon.” \n\nGok nodded his head; the elder had seen war before. “The Dwarvish proton cannons will prevent the Elves from getting too close but…” Gok began to unravel his shiny pipe from its bag- “The Elves have been reckless before.”\n\nVorg frowned; he had grown to love Elven culture since his diplomatic assignment 3 years ago and he did not want to see the planet crumble to war. “If we just leak our intelligence report to the press, the Elves will back off; I have a source we can trust. We have plenty of evidence to suggest the explosion on the mining colony was terrorists, not some ludicrous Dwarven plot.”\n\n“And why would we do that Vorg?” Gok was fiddling with his pipe, loading it with Orcish pipe-weed. “The Elves have worked themselves into a dizzy looking for a reason to attack the Dwarves and now they have one.” He took a long drag from the platinum pipe, never taking his eyes off the disheveled mallet-wielder. “In fact, it would be quite rude of us to interfere now.”\n\nVorg had heard this line of reasoning before but it never satisfied him. Not for the first time he considered leaking the report to Erlan at Elf Today but it was too late; the Orcs would know it was him. I am too much of a coward. Vorg shifted away from his companion, his hands were shaking, thoughts betrayal rampaged through in his mind like a Giant Troll. \n\nHe wiped the sweat from his brow before he spoke. “Sir, I know the official line of the King—but isn’t it a bit callous? Billions will die possibly trillions!” A gnome two seats down looked over, Vorg steadied himself and returned to a whisper. “How will we live knowing we could have done something?”\n\nGok seemed to consider the last question seriously. The elder diplomat had spent 60 years on the elf planet avoiding eleven ways but he was a kind man, a follower, yet kind. However now—as the Orcish pipe burned in defiance of change—he seemed cruel. His tired eyes looked down on the ravenous chamber as it inched closer to blood. “It sounds like you question your King lad? Nicer men than me have sent babes into the cold vacuum for what you just insinuated. I suggest you go home and get some rest, clear your mind, tomorrow we start for the conference.” With that the Orc picked himself up and emptied the pipe onto the floor. His guard helped him up the stairs as he walked to the door but the threat stayed, lingered in his seat. It hung in the air and smothered Vorg like a warm blanket; he tried to stop his hands from shaking as he picked up his comms-device and entered the text to Erlan.\n\nPROTOCAL OMEGA. DROP IS LIVE.", "It took me a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the tavern. It was loud and hectic, with stout, busty waitresses filing quickly past the hooting and hollering drunkards. My nose wrinkled at the smell, but I dared not hesitate long. Goblins were extremely temperamental, and if they thought an outsider was being insulting towards them, they were quick to act. I straightened up and strode to the bar, taking shallow breaths and ignoring the shouts suddenly directed at me. \n\n\"Ah, lookit his pritty skin!\"\n\n\"Y'know, I think the beau'y pageant's tha' way!\"\n\nThey guffawed and cheered at their own jokes, and my heart pounded as I hoped and prayed I wasn't getting myself in too deep. I was relieved that none of these people seemed to recognize me, and could only hope that would continue. I sat upon one of the rusted bar stools and gazed upon the automaton bartender. He was an older model, with some rust that matched the rest of the bar very nicely. The manufacturers had not bothered hiding the bolts and screws on this model, which seemed to add a little character as he wiped a glass clean. \n\n\"Evening, son!\" the bot exclaimed. He was much more polite than his patrons. \"What will you have to drink?\"\n\n\"Uh, bourbon,\" I replied, the first drink that came to mind. A couple small lights on the bots shoulders lit up rhythmically as he calculated the total. \n\n\"Haven't been asked for that in a long time. One moment while I search!\" A few more seconds of lights, and the bot began to print out a receipt, spitting it out his unmoving mouth. I reached up and tore it off for him when it was complete. I scoffed at the price, but held up my hand nonetheless. The bot's eyes flashed as he scanned my prints. \n\n\"Thank you, good sir. One moment while I fetch your drink!\"\n\n\"EY!\" a voice cried from the crowd. \"Fetch THIS!\" My reflexes took charge and I ducked, an empty pint glass sailing over my head and striking the bot. The automaton let out a sound which could only be described as a sigh, and began to vacuum the mess with his free hand. His other hand was hard at work preparing my drink, and I began to feel increasingly uncomfortable in this atmosphere.\n\n\"Some crowd, huh?\" a voice said. I turned around and met eyes with the goblin approaching me. \n\n\"Hi, Victor,\" I greeted, motioning to the seat next to me.\n\n\"Been a long time, my friend,\" he reminisced. He climbed upon the stool next to me and waited for the bot to finished his tasks. \n\n\"Your drink, sir,\" he said, handing me my bourbon. I sipped from it as Victor snapped his fingers; not impatiently, but just loud enough to get the frazzled bot's attention.\n\n\"I'll 'ave a whiskey,\" he croaked.\n\n\"Yes sir, right away!\" the automaton exclaimed, very quickly printing Victor's receipt. The bot tore the receipt from its mouth and handed it to Victor, who held up his hand for scanning.\n\n\"So what brings you t' these parts?\" he said, his voice a gristle. \"I hear you're more'n a general now! Never pegged you for the presidential type.\"\n\n\"Let's not talk about that, not here,\" I pressingly whispered. Victor let out a guttural laugh.\n\n\"Suit y'self. I'll ask again: what brings you here?\"\n\n\"Well, to be quite honest, it does have to do with our warring days. The Aladonians could always count on Goblins to get the job done, and you were very good at what you do.\"\n\n\"Heh, you flatter me, boss.\"\n\n\"Victor, you were always my go-to man when it came to certain,\" I hesitated, \"stealth missions.\"\n\n\"So you wan' me to off someone? Who's the target?\"\n\n\"Well,\" a long pause, \"it's Illiyana Gourdi.\"\n\nA silence fell between us as I said the name. Despite the noisiness of the bar, it felt as if the world stopped for a moment.\n\n\"The Elven Prime Minister?\" Victor questioned, his voice a terrified whisper.\n\n\"Yes. I would like to hire you, and I would like you to-\"\n\n\"Don't say it again!\" he stammered, cutting me off. He leaned back in his stool, taking a long drink of his whiskey. \"Fucking fuck, how much?\" He began to drink again.\n\n\"A trillion,\" I said blatantly. He choked on the drink. Spitting it out and sputtering, he gathered some unwanted attention from the other patrons. I jumped as he slammed his drink on the ground, smashing it and letting out a victorious roar. The bar joined him in a shout and returned to their own businesses, leaving us once again to our privacy. He waited another moment before returning to our conversation.\n\n\"'ow come?\" he snarled. \n\n\"In ten days, the twenty-sixth United Galactic Conference will convene. During that time, an attempt will be made to make peace between the Elven Nation and the Dwarven Kingdom. If Illiyana Gourdi is killed during this truce, war is inevitable.\"\n\n\"Why will they assume a Dwarf killed her?\"\n\n\"Tensions are high, it's a very sensitive time where jumping to conclusions is expected.\"\n\n\"And why d'you want a war between them? They 'ave nothing to do with your planet.\"\n\n\"That's where you're wrong,\" I explained, a small grin finding its way across my face. \"The elves look to Aladon for our plasma weaponry. The alliance I have with the Elven Nation will convince them of my innocence in this bloody affair, and my people can profit. It's just the economical boost my planet needs.\"\n\nVictor spit to his side. \"Disgusting,\" he remarked. \"Fuckin' greedy as fuck.\"\n\n\"Two trillion.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"One trillion now,\" I teased, leaning in closer, \"and another trillion when war is declared.\" He stopped and slumped back in his seat. After what felt like an eternity, he shook his head and rubbed his furrowed brow. Without looking at me, he reached out his hand in agreement. \n\n---\n\nEdit: Made a couple of small changes that I missed during my proofreading." ]	2
	[WP]You enter an old book store and see a book with your name as the title. You read the first few pages and to your surprise it shares the same story as your childhood.	[ "It always seemed strange to Kelsey that she was so often bored in bookstores. While her sister seem to run through aisles collecting novels, maps, and poetry. She strolled down each aisle, gazing absently at titles that never interested her. \n\n\"Where am I? Oh, biographies.\" She said to herself as she looked up for a sign that boldly stated, Biographies. Slowly, she walked down the aisle. Debbie Allen. Christopher Columbus. Jane Fonda. Barack Obama. Names, names and more names, she thought. \n\nShe stopped on one. On the spine, was her first name, spelled in large, unmissable letters. KELSEY. She pulled it forth, and turned it forward to have a better look. On the front was a grey-haired woman seated and frowning at a desk in a courtroom. Kelsey connected at first with the woman's eyes, she recognized them. She scanned the woman down, feeling as if something personal--very personal was taking place. \n\nShe opened the first page. \n\nIt read, This is dedicated to my mother and father, Stan and Jia. I only wanted to make you proud.\n\nHow funny it was, that this woman, with eyes like hers and the names of her parents--wrote an autobiography. She turned the page, not yet believing anything out of the ordinary. \n\nI never much liked reading, or even books. But now, I feel it's important to clarify my actions and help the public understand the reasoning behind my choice to become what we are today.\n\nApparently, this woman had been in trouble with the law, Kelsey thought. Nothing I would ever do. She read on, slightly intrigued.\n\nI never thought I'd be here. I grew up a small town girl from the Maryland countryside. I was born in my grandfather's house, upon the insistence of my mother, who did all she could to avoid modern medicine.\n\nNow this, this lined up to a tee. Kelsey had indeed been born in Riggstown, Maryland, population a measly 5,600. Her mother, Jia, a fierce believer in God's natural healing refused to take her to hospitals or doctors. Out of shame, she never told anyone, but she was in fact, born in her late grandfather's house, after only 5 hours of labor. \n\nKelsey closed the book. She didn't understand, and reading more would only cause her more panic. She shoved the book back into it's slot, and like she had a seen a ghost, scurried away to find her sister. \n\n>Kendra.\n\nKelsey whispered to her sister Kendra, who was lost in a book about US history. \n\n>Kendra, we have to go. I just read a really freaky book. I think...I think it was about me.>\n\nKendra stopped reading and looked up from her book. Not in an alarmed way, but as if she had been switched on and powered up. \n\n>What book?\n\nKendra demanded without looking at Kelsey. \n\n>I don't know! \n\nKelsey stammered. \n\n>It had my name on it!\n\nKendra paused for three seconds.\n\n>You aren't allowed to read that. \n\nShe recited, a blank look in her eyes.\n\nAt that same moment, a book store employee turned the corner, eyes fixed on Kelsey. He walked down the aisle, stopping just before Kelsey. \n\n>You aren't allowed to read that. \n\nHe recited to Kelsey. \n\nThe employee and Kendra continued to stare at Kelsey. They began to chant in unison, \n\n>You aren't allowed to read that. That's classified information. You aren't allowed to read that.\n\nFrightened and confused, Kelsey got up and began to run-walk out of the bookstore, before she got the door. Another shopper jumped in front of her, blocking her exit. >You aren't allowed to read that. That's classified information.\n\nTerrified, Kelsey shoved the shopper out of her way and pushed the doors open. As soon as the fresh air hit her face, she heard the sound of police sirens. Many of them and nearby. Five seconds passed and she listened to the sirens, gauging where they could be. Shortly after, three police vehicles sped into the parking lot, driving, as it seems, straight towards her. On the intercom, she heard, >You have been exposed to classified information. Submit now or face extermination.\n\nWithout another thought, Kelsey ran as fast as she could to a nearby embankment. Her pulse was out of control, her breathing frenetic, her mind was racing and still all at the same time. She hid, until something in her neck clicked. She heard a clicking sound, click, click, click, as if a clock was being reset. Click, click, click. \n\nHer spinal cord near the back of her neck, clicked in and out of place. She reached back to feel what was there. Suddenly her eyes went blank, she couldn't see anything. Her ears, were as if they had been sewn shut. No longer could she hear the sirens and the intercom. She screamed in fear. Everything went black. She assumed she had fainted. \n\nWhen Kelsey woke up, she found herself back in the bookstore. It was as if nothing had happened, the employee who confronted her now walked cheerfully past her to help a customer, her sister, motioned at her to show her she was heading to the music section. And yet again, Kelsey found herself in biographies. She rushed back to where her book was, and as if just recently taken, the book was gone. \n\nShe rushed to the counter, in a frenzy that drew attention from other shoppers. An employee smiling patiently at her, as she approached.\n\n>I'm looking for book. It's called Kelsey? An old woman on the front. Do you have it?\n\n She asked. \n\nThe employee, confused and then slightly concerned replied, >That book has been banned for over 50 years. \n\n\n\n\n", "I loved old books. Ever since I was a kid there was this little bookstore at the corner of Madison and Main. Fifty years it stood against the slow evolution of Main Street as soda stores and hardware stores came and departed, replaced by upscale boutiques and fancy catering services. But there it stood, ever welcoming to me, a little explorer looking for an adventure through history.\n\nWhen I was a child, I loved coming here. Now, I couldn't come everyday as I lived on the other side of town with my dad in the suburbs, but on trips to buy food at the local grocer, he would take me to the shop. The dusty windows and brown shelves and the old smell were always the things that made this place feel displaced from the outside world. \n\nThe books would be packed in the shelves, new or used. It didn't matter. Different from the town library, this place had a sense of adventure to it. I would spend what time I could looking up old texts on historical battles and important figures while my dad chatted with the owner, a nice lady named Margaret. She would give me winks and waves whenever I looked their way, my Dad chuckling at old stories they told before time ran out and we had to go back to do our shopping.\n\nI remembered that our trips there were less and less frequent when I left elementary school and when on to high school. Eventually I stopped going as adolescence turned into young adulthood and college loomed before me. When I went away for five years, I never went back, too engrossed in the larger world that I grew into. I finished my degree, married the love of my life, and moved away to experience more of that world that I embraced, seemingly determined to never leave.\n\nThen my dad phoned me on a bitter winter night. Old Margaret had passed away he had told me. Older me was tinged with a bit of regret at losing touch with the old bookstore. But as I turned to look at my own library of books I had assembled over the years in my own home, I set in my mind to go one last time to the bookstore. My wife agreed that if I felt it was the right thing to do, then do it.\n\n\"It's your book,\" said the youngish shopkeeper.\n\nIt was a worn book with my name on it that he had handed me when I entered the old store. The store was smaller than I remembered it. The allure of the place was lost on me as well, perhaps a failure of nostalgia. The gentleman who greeted me with a weak smile reminded me faintly of Margaret. As I talked with him, my instinct on the lineage was correct. He told me he was Margaret's grandson and the current store owner. The book?\n\n\"Margaret knew all about you from your father, Will. He still came in even after all these years, talking about you while you were away at college. A lot of what is written in here is what they shared when they talked. She apparently wrote them all down!\"\n\nI took the book and brought it back to my Dad's house. He greeted me with a sad smile at the door, knowing I had went to the bookstore to pay one last visit there. At the kitchen table, we both looked over the brown leather book, cream milk pages tinged with bits of yellow on the corners. The writing was compact but neat, easy to read and breathtaking in detail of what apparent was my entire childhood.\n\nWhat came as a shock to me was how much was in there. I literally saw my memories spring out. My first tooth knocked out at the skate park was there. My first boy scout medal was also on display. Even the time I cried and thought a monster lived in my closet that my dad had to chase out. And yes, even my fifth grade graduation ceremony where I was so proud of my perfect attendance certificate for that year.\n\nOn and on the stories went as me and my dad worked through the book for the rest of the day. As last we reached the end of the book. The last few stories penned were sparse events of my later teenage years, as if the interest had waned and sputtered. We sat there with the kitchen light on, looking down at the book filled with my personal life.\n\n\"She was a good friend of your mother,\" my dad stated as I turned to him. \"She died young as you know, and left behind a life you would never know except,\" he gestured to the book. \"as a story others would tell.\"\n\nHe took the book and handed it to me, pressing it into my arms. \"This is your story, son. Margaret kept it alive in memory of your mother.\"\n\nWe cried a bit that night at my dad's old home. We stayed up into the early morning recounting some of the older stories we had long buried, stories that disappeared as life moved on and our paths had grow distant. By noon, I gave my dad a hug and waved bye as I drove away to return to my own life.\n\nAs I drove home, I looked at the book as it rested on the passenger seat. I loved books. Heck, it was probably why I chose to become a teacher in the first place. But I realized that it wasn't just the book that I loved; it was the stories in the books and the stories behind the books that really drove my passion.\n\nSo that night after I returned home and kissed my wife, I retired to my work room. I pulled out a blank journal that I hardly ever touched and looked it over. It wasn't anything like my own book, but it was black covered and sturdy. I opened up to the first page, pen in hand. I wondered what would be the story of this particular book...", "That can't be right, he thought when he first saw the name on the spine. Michael Asimoff Riley. It even had the same wrong spelling of \"Asimov\" from when his father insisted he knew better than the nurse how his favorite author spelled his name. Michael pulled the book from the shelf and read the first line, February 13th, I am born. He felt something pull. He put the book down.\n\n\nHe stared at it a few minutes and picked it up again. He started reading mid-page, ... takes the certificate from the nurse and scratches a pair of 'f's over a 'v.' He heard a noise like paper rustling and closed the book. It looked slimmer than it had been, even if only just. He looked to either side of him to see where the sound had come from, but there was no one there. He tried to look through the other side of the shelf, but it was heavy, solid wood almost two stories high.\n\n\nHe skipped a few pages and continued, My first crush was my second grade teacher, Mrs. Ainsley. He shut his eyes and put the book down again. Who had done this? He thought. What else does it know? He skipped to the end of the book and saw only blank pages. He would turn four pages back and see only one page in his hand. Every few pages he turned seemed to vanish. Dozens, maybe hundreds of pages dissolved into the air and the sound of paper rustling turned to tearing.\n\n\nMichael stopped when he finally saw text. All the pages behind it had disappeared. The spine of the book was thin and it felt light in his hands. He read, That day, I walked into a book store and found the oddest book. It was the last thing I ever read. The shelf creaked and collapsed." ]	3
	[WP] Very few mortals can trick the Gods and get away with it	[ "He shuddered as he cried. But it had all been seen before by the twelve men and women around the cheap conference table. The offensive halogen light lit up the this cracked and reddened cheeks, likening his face to a poorly kept pair of leather boots, and although no-one spoke, the room was not silent as the lights buzzed incessantly and the plastic office chairs creaked as each member of the board shifted their weight to stop their legs getting numb. \nEventually Jonathan spoke first, \"please hurry up.\" His voice cracked on the first word but resumed its naturally sombre, mournful by the time he finished his plea. The rest of them sighed with relief. This had been the longest time in a while that they had to sit through a cryer. The Board of Objections and Obligates or 'BOO' were in charge of deciding who got into Paradise and who was sent back down to Earth. The twelve of them had been sitting in 'The Room Without Windows' for over 5000 years but were considered to be early through their shift. Every single one of them didn't want to be there.\n\nThus, the old man crying was bloody annoying. Time only flies with the easy ones: the Babies; the Drug Dealers; the CEOs and the Priests. All were convinced they were the most important thing in the world and thus hadn't learned anything and were sent back down again. \nJonathan carried on over the man's wailing: \"we've looked over your application and you have no hope getting into paradise\". As if in agreement, 'Bitchy Claudia' flicked a nail clipping from her finger hard into the linoleum floor and sniffed.\n\nThe rest of them: Short David, Sweaty David, David, Kate, Matt, Charlie, Martha, Charlotte, Janet and Fran all glared at her for being Bitchy: as they had been doing almost on a timer for the last week.\nKate cut Jonathan off, smiling widely, trying to hurry it along 'You just weren't cunning enough Sweety, try not to brag about your kids next time.\"\n\n\"But I love my kids, and I only tried to get ou-\"\n\n\"Everyone loves their kids, none are special, none are interesting. Don't try and make life better than it is, that contradicts section 124bi about enjoying life\" Jonathan jumped back in.\nThe man sniffled quietly into his crumpled tie before suddenly whipping his head back up, lassoing a loop of snot from his lower lip around the tip of his nose, \"Why are you all so mean?\". Sweaty David giggled, sending rivulets of liquid running doing his flabby neck so it pooled around the beginning of his discernible body before rasping \"Because its fun!\". They all nodded in agreement, especially Kate, who had given up her smiling facade for the usual glare, and nodded the most vehemently. \n\nJonathan carried on, \"We recommend a program of strict quietness and shyness; the more people you avoid, the less of a chance you annoy anyone and can get in next time\". The man started up immediately but was shot down with a sideways glance, \"You have the allotted time of 76 years to achieve an A2 grade to achieve entry, best of luck and BON VOYAGE!\", the committee yelled together as the man disappeared quickly downwards through the metal hole where the stool had once been. There was a scream of air as the vacuum sucked the air out the harshly lit room.\nMaybe the next one wouldn't try and trick them by feigning to love their kids. \n\n", "” Brothers, above the starry canopy\nThere must dwell a loving Father.”\n-\tSchiller, Ode to Joy\n\n\nOnce upon a time a great blizzard came over the earth and when it passed all things had been covered in a pristine blanket of white snow from far above, so pure that even angels of the Lord went silent and awed at such beauty. It reminded them of heaven and they grew very homesick and missed the friends they had left behind, the Cherubim and the Seraphim and the Thrones, and all the music of the spheres.\n\nBut even God himself was pleased when he looked down and saw the state of all creation; it was too cold to go to war, the soldiers shivered and would not listen to their officers and NCO’s, they wore their winter clothes all wrong and against regulations and threw snowballs at each other instead of hand grenades, then they went home to their families and although this unexpected snow day led to some logistical arguments with their wives and husbands it was of course far better than war, and all things considered God considered it a great success.\n\nPeace came over His priests and holy men as well; it was too cold to run about the streets and plazas, nailing theses to the walls of churches, so the Martin Luthers of this world stayed at home, content to sip on beer and hot wine in their cellars, discussing football with imams, the weather with rabbis and playing scrabble with His Holiness the Pope, who agreed to be fallible just for that night, to make the game more interesting and pleasurable for all.\n\nThis pleased and relieved the Lord so greatly that he closed his eyes and almost fainted out of happiness, to the point that all of our cosmos shivered in sublime doubt and almost ceased to be, as his mind began wandering, like it does before one falls asleep. But he did not. Something was nagging in the back of his mind, like that feeling you get when you begin to wonder whether you left your supermassive black hole at the center of the galaxy on or not. Well, it was nothing like that. In fact it was quite insignificant. But in the midst of all the peace and stellar harmony that little nagging grew out of all proportion and God himself had to step down on earth.\n\n\n“Oh my goodness, so much snow out here! Jesus Christ! Ethel! Take a look at this, will you? There’s so much snow, I can’t believe it, it’s ridiculous I tell you, happens every year, those boobs at city hall, the road is all snowed in as well… Ethel!”\n\nEthel’s reply was swallowed by the winds and snows and the old man went silent but began huffing and puffing instead, the snow nearly went over his head now and from the street one could only hear soft wheezing and see clumps of that powdery stuff being launched left and right with surprising vigor. Then his shovel hit something hard and there was a thick but snow-muted “FWOOMF!”, accompanied by some startled cursing.\n\nThe old bugger lay on his back in the snow. In front of him: a burning, fiery Rhododendron bush, leaves still green but frozen, all in all enveloped in Holy Flame. It melted out a cavern in the snow around it and out of it came a voice like nothing of this earth:\n\n“ELI! ELI, IS THAT YOU MY SON? I CAN’T QUITE SEE, THE FLAMES, SMOKE GETS IN MY EYES… COUGH COUGH!”\n\n“F-father?”\n\n“YES MY SON!”\n\nEli looked pale, struck with terror at first, but soon he steeled himself and struggled to get up again, dusted himself off. “Father, even now you come to haunt me? Can’t you leave things be? I’m only here to shovel the drive. Is this about the money?”\n\n“MY SON, I… WHAT? WHAT… MONEY?”\n\nThe old mans eyes grew soft as he remembered years past. “We did what we had to. Ethel was pregnant, Joey was a little baby. I know, I promised I would reopen the deli but we had to make a good life for them! And for ourselves! I had to think of MY family! Get that through your thick skull, old man!” Poor old Eli had gotten on his feet now but he was panting, his nostrils shivered like those of a young horse and the frustrations and little worries of many decades stained his voice.\n\n“I’M… FOOL! DO YOU TAKE ME FOR A GHOST, ELI? SOME SORT OF SIMPLE APPARITION? LISTEN TO ME, I AM WHO I AM, I AM THE LORD GOD OF SABAOTH, THE…”\n\n“Me, me, I… haven’t we heard that before, ‘I yam what I yam!’… You hard-headed old coot, you thick-skulled quadruped… you had your time, so let me have mine! Even in death you can’t shut up, you never could, could you? And just look at that!” He pointed at the now charred leaves and branches of the Rhododendron and shook his head sadly. “Ethel works so hard on the garden and you just go burn it without a second thought. You may think it’s silly but she loves them, so what? Thoughtless, you are!”\n\nThe fire wavered and seemed to be looking around itself, if a fire was able to do that. “LOOK, I DIDN’T KNOW, I’M SORRY, OK? BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT, THAT’S NOT WHY I’M HERE. AND… I’M NOT YOUR FATHER! OR, RATHER I AM BUT… OH, NEVER MIND. JUST LISTEN. OK?”\n\nEli squinted at the bush suspiciously, teeth clenched. “I told you, you can forget about the deli. Don’t make call an exorcist on your skinny old ass. Ethel knows some top notch mediums. And ’Eli’s Deli’? It’s not a good name at all! Just try to pronounce it! For God’s sake, let it be!”\n\n“ELI’S DELI? DO NOT SPEAK THIS NONSENSE IN THE PRESENCE OF YOU LORD GOD! I WILL REVEAL TO YOU THE LAST OF DAYS, WHEN THE TRUTH IS MADE CLEAR AND…”\n\n“LalaLA! I’m not listening! LALOOLALOOLA! BEEP BOOP, I can’t hear you, dad!” Eli yanked his mittens off and stuck his fingers in his ears and moved them around in there to make noise, his woolen hat was crooked over his gray locks and he chanted loudly like a halfwit and God was greatly astonished at this sight and didn’t know what to do.\n\n“… ELI! STOP THAT! THIS IS YOUR GOD IS SPEAKING. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? STOP IT YOU IDIOT! YOU’RE MAKING A FOOL OF YOURSELF! THIS IS BLASPHEMY!”\n\nBleating like a goat trying to sound like a human Eli danced around in the snow and kicked his scrawny legs about in their sweatpants until they hit the drifts around the bush and caused them to collapse in a tiny avalanche, which put the fire out in a pleasing fizzle. Once he was sure it was over he stopped and rested, short of breath and all flushed from the exertion. Down at that patch of snow he looked, where the bush had been burning, and he felt contentment well up in his soul: at last he had made peace with papa! A single tear fell down his cheek, he swallowed and drew his lips into a bittersweet smile.\n\n“You know I had to do it dad. You where always so stubborn, but it was never about the deli, was it!” His voice was tense; it was so simple, he wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, life was so simple but everyone kept getting carried away by all these distractions, just muddling it all up for no good at all! God, he wanted to laugh and cry, both at once! “It was about us dad, that’s what matters. I think you knew that in your hart too, you still do. And I’m a grand-daddy now. Little Joey is all grown up and he’s got a daughter of his own.”\n\nGrandpa Eli grunted and stuck his shovel in the snow, turned around and went back inside to give his wife a hug; Ethel was confused but happy. “I heard some shouting outside, is everything OK?”\n\nEli had to smile. “Just the wind blowing about, Ethel, that’s all.”\n\nAnd in heaven the Lord God shook his head and looked down benevolently with a rumbling laugh.\n\n“OH ELI, I CAN’T STAY MAD AT YOU, BUT YOU SURE TRICKED ME! UH… I GUESS?\n\nSOME SORT OF TRICK IT WAS!”\n", "The wooden boat creaked, and shuddered, down the misted river. Catena looked over the lip of the boat, nerves filled her mind as she stared down into the murky water. There was an unholy death, a foul breath, rising from the water of the river styx; it made Catena shudder. She leaned back into the boat, a futile attempt to escape the taint of the water.\n\nBehind her, the oarsman, Styx herself, guided the boat. There was a silence all around the wooden construct, a haunting lack of sound, emotion, movement, thought, life. Catena shuddered, and straightened out her back. She tried not to look at Styx’s hooded figure, but rather, she stared ahead into the mist of the river. In the far distance, she could see figures move through the fog; eery distortions, all black and shadow, moving and shifting at odd, painful angles across the surface of the water. Catena tried not to stare at them for too long.\n\nIt was in this manner that Catena floated silently into the depths of the underworld. Her mind started to wander as they floated. Her hands rubbed absentmindedly over two pieces of worn, ancient gold coins. Her thumb made circles over their worn surfaces. She thought about her father, the fool of the world, chained beneath the Earth, hidden away in his captivity of the underworld.\n\nA worried scowl crossed over her face. She thought about her father’s antics, his drinking and whoring, his gambling and playing, his secret deals and sly smiles. A frown reached her lips. All of his play had finally caught up to him. She remembered his wicked smile as Pluto came to the city, she remembered how he schemed as Pluto ate at their grand hall. He’d made a bet, a wager, with the god of the land, of the mines, of immense riches, of the underworld. He’d thought himself greater than a god, he’d thought himself invulnerable, immortal.\n\nCatena could still remember that look of confidence on his face as he brought his wager to Pluto. The god had accepted, amused by the antics of a mortal, sure of his victory. Of course, her father had cheated; he’d schemed and bribed. But he had been mistaken, Pluto had been craftier. He’d caught her father red handed, and then a great darkness had filled the hall. The twisted, angry face of Hades overtook the calm of Pluto, and her father was taken away to the underworld, promised nothing but pain for the rest of eternity. Catena had felt such loss that day, such sorrow and betrayal. It was the next day when she decided to travel to the underworld herself, to free her foolish father from his hubris and restore her family’s pride and honor.\n\nThe boat gave out a loud creak, breaking Catena from her thoughts. Styx made a small, guttural sound. Catena nodded, avoiding the stare of the hooded figure. In the distance, through the mist and fog, the shore of the underworld peeked out. A breath caught in Catena’s chest. A fear rose up in her mind. She was here, on the shores of despair. She took a deep breath, and tried to calm her shaking hands.\n\nA crunch resounded through the eery silence of the river as the boat crashed into the shore. Catena rose, and turned to face the goddess Styx. She raised her hand, the two gold coins held out in her hand. Styx accepted her payment quietly, a grave ceremony in their exchange. Catena avoided the figure as she stepped off the boat. She turned her back as Styx pushed off into the river, Catena’s eyes set forward. Just like the river, the shore was shrouded in a thin mist. In the distance, tall, dark things twisted and moved, mechanical and lively, eery and silent.\n\nCatena’s body quivered and shook. A chill crawled down her spine. Her mind felt unhinged. She took a step forward, a showing of courage and willpower. Her foot fell softly into the dry earth. She calmed her breathing, and gritted her teeth. She would either free her father, and maintain her family’s pride, her join him; chained at the depths of existence, a prisoner to her misery and despair.\n\nShe took another step forward, determination replacing her fear. Her eyes set forward, and her mind steeled against what was to come.\n\n-------------------------\n\nHope you enjoyed the story! I've got piles of other stories over at my sub, r/ThadsMind, if you want to subscribe to that. I'll probs write a continuation for this sometime because I like where it's going.", "&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Very few mortals can trick the gods and get away with it.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I'm not one of them.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Eight radiant figures sat on their respective thrones staring down at me with varying degrees of displeasure. I stared down at my feet not because I was terrified to meet their gaze, but because they were giving off so much light.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"Seriously, can you turn it down?\" I tried to look up and was rewarded with little blue spots dancing in my vision. \"Just a little?\"\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The gods looked at each other - or at least I think they did - and the light level in the room dropped dramatically. Finally I could get a good look at this divine tribunal. Sitting in the two main chairs were the rival gods Terpiches, god of rivers and other such flowing bodies of water, and Secipret, god of games, especially those involving cards. No one was sure exactly how their feud began, but most scholars theorized that it involved a sudden flash flood washing away a winning hand of tweng.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;On the left sat the god of mirrors, the goddess of spring flowers, and the god of household cleaners, who just looked pleased to have been involved in something official. On the right, the god of falling leaves was quarreling with the goddess of cracked ice in a very animated fashion. In the far right seat sat a goddess that I was unfamiliar with.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She must be new. I thought. I recognize most every god and goddess, but not her. I'll have to introduce myself later. I looked up at the two main thrones. Assuming I survive this.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"We'll have to leave this off until later.\" Terpiches said, realizing that maybe gods shouldn't argue in front of a mortal. \"*Brothers and sisters, SILENCE.\" His voice suddenly began sound like a large book hitting the floor, except it produced words instead of a 'thump' sound.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The other gods and goddesses settled down and composed themselves, attempting to look regal. It's kind of hard to take them seriously when you just saw them bickering. Bickering, yes. Maybe I will survive this.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In his very official voice, Terpiches began, \"Brothers and sisters, we are gathered here on this very auspicious occasion to pass judgement on the mortal standing before us.\" A shudder passed down my spine as all eyes shifted to me. I suppressed it. Can't show weakness in front of the gods, they'll take it as guilt. \"This man stands accused of attempting to deceive the gods.\"\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A general murmur went up, mostly for show. This had all been in the memo that had been sent out. One little voice, belonging to the god of household cleaners, piped up. \"Um... How, exactly, did he try to deceive the gods? I mean, what did he do?\"\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The goddess of spring flowers leaned over and hissed at him, \"Didn't you read the memo?\"\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The god's face went red as he dug a piece of parchment out of his rather plain tunic. His eyes squinted as he read it. Or attempted to read it, it seems.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Terpiches frowned when he saw that. \"This mere man disguised himself as a god and bluffed his way through the amber gates in an unlawful attempt to usurp a place in the pantheon.\" The god of household cleaners looked grateful and stuffed the parchment back into his tunic.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;'Unlawful attempt'. As if it hadn't been done three times before. \"Ahem, if I may?\" I looked up at Terpiches and continued on before he could object. \"You see, that's not at all the reason why I came here last night. I was hoping that I could beseech you, your holiness, to tell me the location of my lucky deck of cards which had gotten swept away as I slept the night before.\"\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"AHA!\" Roared Secipret. \"You've been at it again, you wretch! What, did one of your followers lose to this nice man so you decided to abscond with his favored deck?\"\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A small smile crossed my lips. \"No, no, your holiness. You see, I had been playing a friendly game with the mirror scrubbers of the local lord's mansion and we'd been having a wonderful time, but when I awoke the next morning, I found that a section of ice had given way and swept my cards downriver.\" The goddess of cracked ice frowned at that. \"Then I followed the meandering paths of some fallen leaves floating int= the current,\" that god smiled absentmindedly, \"but it was still nowhere to be found.\"\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Only half my words seemed to get through as a general pandemonium erupted. I couldn't have asked for a better tribunal, these divines were already discontent with each other, and I'd given them an opportunity to air their grievances. The goddess of spring flowers was angrily berating the god of household cleaners, who seemed to be trying to disappear into his tunic. Meanwhile, the god of fallen leaves gave me a conspiratorial nod and wink, which did not escape the goddess of cracked ice's cold gaze. In fact, the only divine who didn't seem to be involved in the ruckus was the new one on the far right. Presumably, she hadn't had time to form any grudges, and so instead sat and watched the unfolding events with an amused expression.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Desperately trying to regain order, Terpiches shouted again, \"SILENCE!\" The others took a moment to quiet down, so as not to seem too obedient, especially Secipret who was red in the face from his tirade against Terpiches.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Terpiches glared down at me. \"We have all heard the charges and this mortal's pathetic attempt to explain them away. We will now put it to a vote.\" He looked around, as if expecting someone to object. Seeming dejected that no one did, he continued, \"All those who find him guilty?\" He raised his hand, and was quickly followed by the goddess of broken ice, and the goddess of spring flowers.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His eyes narrowed as he spoke through clenched teeth, \"And all those who find him not guilty?\" The other five raised their hands.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"You're really being too hard on the man.\" Secipret began. \"He just wanted his deck of cards back.\"\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Terpiches ignored him. \"We seem to have a split vote. In times like these, the regulations call for-\"\n\nPart 1/2, it's a little long.\n", "St. Peter stood by the gates of heaven as Bill approached. Like any other person working monotonous admin, St. Peter was bored. As the man approached, he decided to set a challenge. \n\n\"Hello, Bill. We've been expecting you.\"\n\n\"You've been expecting me?\"\n\n\"This is heaven, Bill. We like to expect all of the Lord's creations.\"\n\n\"Ah, OK.\"\n\n\"In order to get in to heaven and life in eternal happiness, you must first trick me. Bedazzle me, bamboozle me, make me question the very fabric of reality. Are you up to the task?\"\n\n\"I was a plumber on Earth.\"\n\n\"I know but you must have some sort of cool trick you can show me.\"\n\n\"Well, I can do this.\" Bill turned his back to Peter, [bending both thumbs and placing them next to each other, with the index finger of his right hand overlapping to cover the the obvious disjoint, he turned back to Peter and began to remove his thumb.](https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-i2qk4vMGV3M/Uq2ffGho58I/AAAAAAAAGJg/_ViBHOBkzoc/thumb-break-trick.gif).\n\nSt. Peter looked confused. \"Do that again.\"\n\nBill repeated the trick.\n\n\"Jesus titty fucking Christ. You best come with me.\" Said St. Peter as he lead Bill through the gates, across a cloudy path and straight in to the office of God himself. \"Sir, you've got to see this. This is Bill and ..\"\n\n\"I know who this is. Why have you brought him to me?\"\n\n\"Show him that thing you did, Bill.\"\n\nBill stepped in front of a colossal desk and nervously performed his trick to God Almighty.\n\nGod paused, deep in thought, before turning to St. Peter. \"How the fuck is he doing that?\"\n\n\"I have no fucking idea. He's like some sort of thumb Shaman.\"\n\n\"Do it again.\" Requested God.\n\nBill performed the trick again.\n\n\"Get the fuck out of here. Did El Diablo send you? Did he give you these powers? Pete, get Zeus and Osiris in here, please.\"\n\nPeter picked up the phone and within seconds the two ancient deities were walking in to the office.\n\n\"God, this best be good we just about to throw lightning bolts at Earth.\"\n\nGod interrupted Zeus, \"Bill, show them.\"\n\nBill clasped his hands together and performed the trick for the room.\n\n\"Holy shit.\" Osiris fell to the floor praying, \"By the heavens almighty, Horus, Amun and Ra.\"\n\nZeus ran to Bill and shook him. \"Where did you find this power, boy? You must tell me.\"\n\n\"Never have I seen a man remove his thumb with such disregard.\" said God. \"And to reattach it immediately .. It's fucking bananas.\"\n\nBill walked behind a human sized couch. \"I'll be going now.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? The door is over there?\" Said Zeus, pointing to the exit.\n\n\"Oh, did you not know? There's some secret stairs here.\" Bill proceeded to fake walk down the flight of stairs, disappearing behind the couch.\n\n\"What the fuck!\" Shouted God jumping from his chair. Zeus and Osiris grabbed hold of each other while St. Peter had his hands on his head.\n\nBill came back up the imaginary stairs from behind the couch, \"You're right, there's no exit down there.\"\n\n\"What the F.\" screamed Zeus.\n\n\"Where did you even go?!\" asked St. Peter who moved across the room to move the couch out of the way. \"There aren't even stairs there.\"\n\n\"Are you a wizard?.\" Asked Osiris. \"Real talk, are you a wizard?\"\n\n**\n\nI write shitty, silly stories on /r/BillMurrayMovies. Feel free to come along, not laugh at any of them and leave some judgement.", "In Pylos, in a small, crooked hut with a broken brick chimney, a young woman lived with her old, blind mother and tended a small flock of sheep. \n\nThe woman was named Arabeth and she was beautiful, with green, fox eyes and cascading mounds of cream-colored hair. Her mother often told her the tale of her birth - that she was the daughter of a god and that the eyes of a mere mortal would never be worthy enough to gaze upon her...not even those of her own mother, who had been struck blind in the course of labor.\n\nAnd this is why they were alone in the small, crooked hut, isolated on a hill that overlooked the sea. \n\nFor her part, Arabeth never quite believed the tale. She saw nothing in herself that was godlike. Not exceptional strength or cleverness or quickness or cunning. She was just a girl who had grown into a woman. No more.\n\nThen one day a man came to the hut, asking after the sheep. Arabeth's mother did the talking, while Arabeth hid away indoors. \n\n\"And do you happen to have a daughter?\" asked the man.\n\nArabeth's mother stiffened. \"I have sheep. Just sheep.\"\n\n\"There are rumors,\" said the man. \"Rumors of a girl more beautiful than any other. Rumors that say that girl lives in a small, crooked hut on a hill that overlooks the sea.\"\n\n\"I have sheep,\" said Arabeth's mother. \"Just sheep.\" The man went away, buying nothing.\n\n\"He was not a man,\" said Arabeth's mother, when her daughter had asked about him. \"He was a god, same as before, though I could not tell you which.\"\n\n\"How do you know?\" said Arabeth.\n\n\"Gods know too much,\" said Arabeth's mother. \"And they all want the same thing. Mark me - that one will come back.\"\n\nHe did come back, but not right away. Meanwhile, that same day, a different man came to the hut, again asking about the sheep and then the girl.\n\n\"They say she is so beautiful, only the gods may look upon her,\" said the second man. \"That must be quite a sight.\"\n\n\"I wouldn't know,\" said Arabeth's mother. \"I have sheep. Just sheep.\"\n\nEventually the second man went away, his annoyance evident.\n\nThe next day the first man came back. And later in the day, the second returned. Both were turned away. Both made vows to return. \n\n\"What will happen?\" asked Arabeth.\n\n\"All gods love a prize,\" said her mother. \"They all want the same thing. They'll keep coming back until the prize is claim.\"\n\n\"I don't wish to be a prize,\" said Arabeth. \"What can we do?\"\n\nArabeth's mother had a plan.\n\nWhen next the first man returned, he didn't bother with the sheep at all. \"I think the girl is here. I want to see her,\" he said.\n\nArabeth's mother nodded. \"Ah. Perhaps. But as you said yourself, it sounds as though she's a sight for gods alone. Were you a god perhaps you might see her, but as it is, I don't see any way that you might.\"\n\nThe man smiled. \"I believe you may have already suspected, dear crone, but I am* a god. A pillar of Olympus. And I know your daughter is here. I wish to have her.\"\n\nArabeth's mother feigned surprise. \"Is that so? Well, I suppose a display is in order. And, as it happens, my daughter does not know the face of men. She would be frightened to see you. Could you turn yourself into a sheep? It would confirm your power and put her at ease.\"\n\nThe god was only too eager to make the change. Where once a man had stood, now there was beautiful, thickly coated and hearty sheep. \n\n\"Have you done it?\" said Arabeth's mother. \"I'm blind you know.\"\n\n\"Feel my wool,\" said man who was now a sheep. \"That should serve as proof.\" \n\n\"That might be any of my sheep,\" said Arabeth's mother. \"If you are truly a god, you can lend me your eyes. That way I might see and know that you have done as you promised.\"\n\nThe man was unhappy, but did as he was told. He gave his eyes to Arabeth's mother, who nearly wept to have her sight returned. \n\n\"Yes, yes, I see. You are a magnificent creature,\" she said. \"You must be a god.\"\n\n\"Lead me to the girl,\" said the sheep.\n\n\"She must prepare herself,\" said Arabeth's mother. \"Go wait in the field and I will bring her to you when she is ready.\"\n\nThe god went and stood among the sheep. Soon the second man arrived.\n\n\"I know the girl is here,\" he said, his voice rich with power. \"Bring her to me immediately.\"\n\nArabeth's mother, who now pretended to be blind, bowed her head. \"Certainly, certainly. But know that no one has looked upon her in all these years. This is a sacred occasion. Might I suggest a celebration? Go to the field and slaughter the best of our sheep while I prepare my daughter to meet you.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the man, who found one splendid sheep among the flock and immediately slit its throat. The sheep, once dead, became the corpse of a great god - the brother of the one who had stuck it down. Horrified, the god gathered up his fallen brother and - wailing loud enough to split mountains - ascended into the heavens.\n\nAt the sound, Arabeth came out of the small, crooked hut. \"Is anything the matter?\" she cried. \"Are you alright?\"\n\nAnd for the first time in all her life, Arabeth's mother was finally able to see her child. She wept real tears. \"Everything is just fine,\" she said, kissing her daughter upon the cheeks. \"Better than it's ever been.\" ", "The village elder was a man of stories. Every night, the villagers would gather under the stars and listen to his tales. He was an old man, older than everyone in the village. Rumours had it that he was as old as the earth itself, there when the sun was forged and the stars laid out in the skies.\n\nJo never cared about the rumours, but rather for the tales he told. Tales of creation, tales of adventure and tales of gods. Gods that brought people like the elder and Jo to life. And tonight, under dancing starlight, the elder spoke of how man first walked the earth, breathed into life by these Gods.\n\n\"Do they have a name, these Gods?\" Jo's voice came from the back of the group, interrupting the elder's speech midway.\n\nThe elder's eyes wrinkled at Jo's direction. \"No, Jo. I'm afraid they do not. They're always around us, watching us, controlling the wind, sky and clouds, and because of their power, they had no need for a name.\"\n\nAnd Jo nodded, wondering in awe about the Gods that the elder mentioned. There were so many questions in his head. Who were they really? How did they looked? What power did they have?\n\nHis questioned was answered soon enough, as he stood at the entrance to his cave one night. He had heard the rumbling in the sky, so loud and deep that it shook the very ground he slept on. Surely it had to be the gods, he told himself, and pulled himself up to see the gods for his own eyes. The spectacle that greeted his eyes did not disappoint. Bolts of bright blinding light snaked through the sky, a few of them even escaping to hit the earth. It felt as if the Gods themselves were having a battle.\n\nJo saw all those in awe, his heart suddenly wishing to know more of these Gods that the elder spoke of. He ran from the safety of his cave to the field below it, his arms waving in the air. \n\n\"Show me more!\" he screamed as he ran. \"Show me more!\"\n\nAnd the Gods decided to grant him his wish. Another bolt of lightning streaked from the sky towards the earth, hitting a tree, sending bright sparks flying in a way that Jo never saw before. But it was not the sparks that captured Jo's attention. It was how the tree was engulfed in a warm, fiery light that Jo had never seen before. \n\nHe extended his arm to touch it, only to have pain shot through his skin. And at that very moment he knew what to call it. \"Fire\". It provided heat and it provided light. No longer the villagers had to spend the night in dark. Or in the cold. Jo, stood there transfixed, as the flames continued to dance in front of him.\n\nHe had tricked the Gods to show him fire. A secret to the world. And somehow, the Gods had let him get away with it. The skies above had died down, leaving only him and crackling flame. He was going to show it to his fellow villagers. He knew he had to.\n\n-----------------\n\n/r/dori_tales" ]	7
	[WP] You post a writing prompt on Reddit which sounds typically outlandish and unrealistic. An hour later the security services take you into custody. Their interrogation is focused on your post.	[ "Fluorescence flickered overhead and a distinct rattle sounded from the air vents. The small room was the stereotypical interrogation room complete with bare walls and large, dark window. The urine in the man's underwear had dried, but the shock of being woken to a tactical team had yet to wear off.\n\nThe door opened and two men walked in, each nearly identical with close cropped hair and suits barely hiding the bulge of side arms and muscles too big for office work.\n\n\"We have a few questions for you before we let you go,\" said Agent One.\n\n\"Before we maybe let you go,\" said Agent Two.\n\nThe man spluttered and stuttered. \"Who are you? Where am I? What's going on?\"\n\nAgent One's hands slammed on the table leaving it reverberating as he spoke. \"We are asking the questions. You just answer.\"\n\n\"Let's begin,\" said Agent Two. \"What did the devil look like when he contacted you?\"\n\n\"What?\" The man's face showed his shock and confusion.\n\n\"Going to play dumb, huh?\" Asked Agent One. \"How about an easy question. What number do you see over my head and what does it mean?\"\n\nThe man stuttered, \"Num? Number? I'm not sure-\"\n\nAgent Two's hand smacked the table. \"Enough with the act. We've read your posts! You have information and you better start providing answers!\"\n\n\"Where is Hitler?\" Agent One asked.\n\n\"What does he intend with his robot army?\" Asked Agent Two.\n\n\"And Kim Jung Un? What's his connection in all this?\"\n\n\"And don't think we forgot about the time machine you are hiding!\"\n\nThe man's head reeled and spun as the questions came faster and faster. \n\nMechahitler, AI invasion, robot overlords, a magician with an odd power, the devil makes a deal, batman, joker, and so many numbers over so many heads meaning so many different things.\n\nA tire squeaked as the cart wheeled though the warehouse. Eventually the box quit yelling as it found its place amongst so many other wooden boxes in the giant, government warehouse. Aliens!", "It took me about an hour but I finally finished the prompt. I smiled and laughed as I read what I had just written imagining it was for the first time. \"Ya this is going to get a bunch of upvotes\" I said to myself as I hit the submit button. I leaned back in my chair with a big grin constantly hitting the refresh button every minute or two. Suddenly I realized the pain in my bladder and looked over at the empty 44oz soda that I finished off. The urge to urinate became overwhelming. I relieved myself quickly, made a ham and cheese sandwich, and returned to my computer to hit refresh.\n\n\"What the hell!?\" I said out loud. \"My post is missing?! Somebody had to have deleted it and is going to steal it for themselves!\" \n\nI spammed the refresh key but my post was just mysteriously missing. I cursed to myself for not writing and saving it in OpenOffice. I tried to re-write it from memory but gave up twenty minutes later. Frustrated and defeated I shut off my PC and began to make my way to bed. A sudden loud sound made me stop in my tracks outside my bedroom. Someone was pounding at my door... hard. Nervously I made my way to the peephole and looked outside but saw nothing. Next I heard glass shatter behind me. I spun around quickly and then everything went dark...\n\nI woke up in an unfamiliar room. I strained my neck to look at my surroundings but my vision was fuzzy and my head felt like it was just used to play an epic drum solo. I began to try to focus on my surrounding and turned my head to see a large mirror covering most of the wall to my left. I saw myself sitting completely naked and my hands were bound behind my back. The room was entirely made of stainless steel including the two chairs and table in front of me. I heard the door in front of me unlatch and swing open. A bright light blinded me as two figures walked in and slammed the door behind me. Two men in grey suits with dark black sunglasses made their way to the chairs and sat down. Neither one said anything but I could feel their eyes staring me down behind their dark lenses.\n\n\"Do you know why we brought you here?\" The man on the left asked coldly.\n\n\"No\" I replied back.\n\n\"This is about your post on the monitoring site 27 Alpha subsection 4241!\" The man on the right snapped at me.\n\n\"I'm sorry what?\" I answered back in shock.\n\n\"The post you wrote on Reddit under the writing prompt subreddit.\" The man on the left corrected him.\n\n\"Wait what's going on here?\" I began to panic.\n\nIce cold water suddenly dropped from the ceiling onto me. I gasped trying to catch my breath as all the warmth was taken from me.\n\n\"If we don't like your answers things will get much worse than a cold shower.\" Right grinned at me.\n\n\"What about my post?\" My confusion was growing.\n\n\"Where did you get your information and why did you chose to leak it on a monitored website?\" Left asked.\n\n\"I just made it up. I was trying to get karma.\" I pleaded with them.\n\nRight stood up and made his way to the door. The bright light filled the room again until the door shut. I looked at Left and pleaded with him.\n\n\"Look I don't know what's going on. I was just bored and found that subreddit tonight. I wanted to write something cool so I made up a story. Please I don't know whats going on here!\"\n\nLeft continued to stare at me not saying a word.\n\nThe door opened again and I closed my eyes to shield them from the light. When I opened them Right was walking back to his chair this time he was holding a stainless steel briefcase. He wordlessly made his way back to his chair and sat down. Without saying anything he dialed the combination and opened it in front of me. On one side about 20 syringes were lined neatly in a row each one containing a different color liquid. On the other side a variety of nefarious looking tools like the construction equipment for a demented mind. At the sight of the contents of the case I began to cry and shouted out.\n\n\"Please I swear to god I don't know anything. I made everything up!\"\n\nA slight smile hit the corner of Right's mouth. He reached into the case and pulled out a syringe with a light blue fluid in side it. At the same time Left stood up and made his way behind me. I felt my hands become unbound but my arms were forced very suddenly into the restraints on the armrest of my chair. \n\n\"Please don't do this!\" I Pleaded. \"I'm telling you everything!\" \n\nLeft sat back down as Right grabbed my immobile arm and injected me with the unknown substance. It felt hot in my veins and I could feel the warmness slowly make it's way up my arm and into my heart.\n\n\"Oh god why are you doing this?!\" I shouted before everything went dark again.\n\nWhat happened next felt like a dream. The sensation of floating and the need to tell the bright light all my secrets so I could redeem myself. I awoke very groggy some unknown time later. My eyes could barely focus but I could see two unknown figures standing in the corner of the room. I could barely make their voices out.\n\n\"...maybe he really did just make it up.\"\n\n\"No way. He had every detail of it right. Somethings even I didn't know until I got the report. He must have hacked into the server or perhaps had the information leaked to him on accident. What did we find on his background?\"\n\n\"He's just a college drop out. He worked as a bartender at a couple places and his greatest accomplishment is his Xbox Live gamerscore.\"\n\n\"So he's just a patsy. Someone must have given him the information and perhaps paid him to release it. What's this karma he talked about?\"\n\n\"Just some fake points people can earn on the monitoring website. It's just a number it doesn't mean anything real and has no value.\"\n\n\"Did we check his accounts? Has anything significant been deposited lately?\"\n\n\"No he's pretty much broke.\"\n\n\"So he fits the profile of someone who... he's waking up now.\"\n\nBoth figures made their way back to their chairs and sat down.\n\n\"Well you either know someway to fool the truth serum or you really did just make everything up\" said Left. \"I'm beginning to believe it's the latter. Mr. Daniels I think we are done here.\"\n\n\"Who's Mr. Daniels?\" I mumbled trying to shake of the feeling of sleep.\n\nRight reached into the briefcase and produced a small silver instrument with a long metal protrusion. When his figure squeezed the trigger it began to whirl and buzz like a drill. \n\n\"Look guys I promise I won't write anything else I just want to go home. Please just let me go back home I won;t say anything!\"\n\n\"I believe you.\" Left replied his voice sound ice cold. \"I know you won't say anything about this little encounter.\"\n\nRight stood up and made his way behind me. My chest rapidly expanded and collapsed as I began to panic. I struggled in my restraints but soon when he was no longer in sight. I know he was right behind me. The buzzing sound from the drill began next to my right ear and a pain greater than anything I could imagine shot it's way from my inner ear and then into my brain. I screamed in agony as loud as I could. Everything slowly went black for the final time.\n\nEpilogue:\n\n\"I'm sorry ma'am visiting hours are about to be over.\" said the man in white.\n\n\"No please.\" the woman answers back. \"I can see it in his eyes he remembers me! He's getting better everyday! I just need more time with him!\"\n\n\"Ma'am please I don't want to call security again.\" The man pleads as he ushers her out the room. \"He's been the same since he arrived all he can do is blink.\"\n\nHer screams echo down the hall as they leave me sitting in a wheelchair inside the room. I have no idea who she is but my head feels less cloudy when she's around. The people in white are more gentle when she is here and they don't make me sit next to the guy who laughs all the time. \n\n" ]	2
	[WP] Magic is real, and it works by exploiting flaws in the laws of physics. You've just discovered the first flaw.	[ "\"We interrupt your scheduled program for this breaking news\"\n\n\"The Law of Physics no longer exist, according to this man.\" said the Anchor woman.\n\n\"It's real, LOOK!\" the man shouts as he raises a pen effortlessly of the table without touching it. \"There are no GODS! We are the creators don't you see! \" He quickly reaches for a paper. He crumbles the paper in a ball and holds it in his hands. Shortly after the ball begins to slowly expand and burn. \"You can do anything! This is not for money, this is to open up and know yourself!\"\n\nThe picture quickly cuts to the anchors.\n\n\"We will continue to keep you updated on this story as more information comes into us. Thank you for watching WKTLA your only source for all your news.\"\n\nI look over at my friend who has the bong in his hand. \"Holy shit dude, imagine. This shit gets out we could really be fucking GODS MAN!\" I chuckle with a giant grin on my face. \"Lets see what the other news channels are saying.\"\n\n\"Riots in areas of the world. Mosques, Churches, Temples all burning overnight with the new news of the total disregard of Gods and the Laws of Physics.\"\n\n\"It really is a spectacular sight Marcy! Many beach towns in Central and South America are raising balls of fire in the air signifying unity. What a time to be alive!\"\n\nI Gasped. \"Dude life is going to be so kush when we learn this shit!\"", "The Davis Experiment led by astrophysicists, Raymond Davis Jr and John N Bahcall in the 1960's, undoubtedly redefined what was known as a neutrino. As a refresher, all things in life that has mass emits radiation; radiation is the process by which particles of energy, including the neutrino (a tiny mass that's much smaller than the atomic particles) is transferred. Now the point of the experiment was to quantify the neutrinos emitted by the sun but it yielded unexpected results prompting more questions. Numbers of neutrinos hitting the Earth by the sun were unexpectedly off. The solution was found long after but we'll cut out these needless details because they are wrong. Mindblowingly and utterly wrong. How? It has a bit to do with the new discovery made in 2014 debunking the mysteries surrounding the Black Knight Satellite. But first, a required concept is necessary to understand what follows. It is fair to say that since all mass is radiating energy, radiating energy is also mass. Theoretically, by harnessing enough energy we can form mass. Think in terms of making a baby. But how does ANY of THIS relate to one another? Hold on, we're almost there. As revealed in 2014, the alien figure that loomed above the Earth known as the Black Knight was in fact a thermal blanket lost in space. A THERMAL BLANKET. What was unknown by scientists however is that despite its function to reflect radiation, it's size does not allow it to be a significant factor in reducing the large number of neutrinos that was bombarding the Earth. \n\nThere had to be another reason. Magic.\n\nMagic can be explained for and be attributed to everything in this world we live in. That iron bench you have out under the gazebo started changing colors? That is the work of magic. That block of cheese that started growing mass after you left it in the fridge for 3 months? Magic. Those cards your dad vanished or the quarters that grandpa made appear out of your ears? Yep, you guessed it. Magic. Even global warming can be attributed to magic. The thermal blanket in space became a magical entity provided with enough energy from the sun to emit its own layer of magical insulation.\n\nEvery fundamental aspect, every concept that we know of... its origins come from magic. Thus everything is magic. And everybody knows... I got the magic in me.", "\"The laws of nature can be bent the way any other law is bent and it starts with finding a good lawyer. The laws of nature are things of logic, they can be channeled and moved by logic, and by and large they work in logical and predictable ways. That said, a good lawyer can massage the logic, wrap something fuzzy in something concrete so when it meets the law it passes right through and makes the funny bits happen, that you would like to make happen, that otherwise would not,\" said the ecstatic man in the long coat. \"Take my card,\" he said smiling as he held out his card and crushed it in his hand, only to tap my pocket and reveal it was now there.\n\n\nIt read, Isaac Crowley, Attorney at Natural Law. \n", "\"Uh oh\" I said to no one in particular as I closed the door behind me. \n\nI wanted to take back everything I had just said, everything I had just done - but here I was; and there that THING was behind the door. \n\n\"Uh Larry can I have a hand?\" I asked as my coworker Larry stopped by me in the hallway. \"I mean sure you can Ben, what's up? And what's with you holding the men's room closed?\" \n\n\"I did something\" I replied, \"I did something bad.\" \n\n\"What? Did you forget to add a cover sheet to your client report again? You know boss is going to kill you...\" \n\n\"No, no it's much worse than that\" I answered. \n\nLarry raised an eyebrow, \"What did you do?\" \n\nI carefully opened the door an inch to double check before shutting it again. \"I think I just discovered...\" \"Discovered what?\" he asked. \n\n\"Well I was trying to go to the bathroom, and I was thinking about this article I read about how, how well...\" I started. \n\n\"Well what?\" Larry asked.\n\n\"How magic might be real, if you mess up physics that is. Like if you do something that really really really breaks the laws you can actually do magic... yourself.\" I continued. \n\n\"What did you do?\" Larry said sternly as he folded his arm and set his cup of coffee on top of our water cooler.\n\nI slowly peeked the door open watching his eyes open as I let it go the rest of the way. \"I might have opened a portal to another dimension.\" Larry's coffee cup fell to the floor as he stared at me in shock, \"How, what, what is that, where is that, what?\" \n\nI nodded my head as I looked to the abyss beyond the doorway as well, \"Yep\" I said, \"Well would you look at that, it looks like there's a dinosaur standing right there where the urinal used to be.\" \n\n\"How did you do this?\" Larry asked, \"You can't even remember to put a cover sheet on a deliverable, I'm pretty sure I saw you with a remote control in your lunchbox last week complaining you mixed it up with your sandwich, yet you... you broke the laws of physics?\" I shrugged, \"I am not a smart man.\" \n\nBefore he could say anything else we were both startled as a loud noise snapped behind us. \"Ben shut the door!\" Larry yelled as we both turned to see the large snapping jaws of what looked like some sort of... t-rex... thing. \"T-rex?\" I asked, \"Is that a T-rex?\" \"No that's a velociraptor!!!\" Larry complained as he tried and failed to grab the handle of the door. \n\nWe were both nearly flattened as it roared again and then leaped through the doorway and down the hallway into the main hallway of our office. I looked up from where I now was laying on the floor and scratched my head. \"Uh oh\" I said. \n\n\"What\" Larry replied in an exasperated tone as he jumped to a stand and started looking around the room frantically. \"That sign over the water cooler\" I said, pointing to the silly gag gift someone had hung, \"It's now no longer been millions of years since the office had a dinosaur in it.\" \n\nLarry sighed in an extremely exasperated tone as he pulled the handle to the door shut and pointed down the hall, \"You can do magic, even if by accident, so you're going to do whatever it is you just did and close the portal and go get that velociraptor before it eats anyone. Do you understand me?\" \n\nI looked down the hallway and nodded, \"I mean would it be so bad if it ate Deb though...?\" \"Ben!\" Larry said as he started to jog down the hall. \"I'm coming!\" I replied. I looked at my hands as I tried to remember exactly how I had done it the first time, for a moment I stopped feeling so overwhelmed and felt kind of awesome. I grinned, \"I can do magic.\" \n\nAnd lttle did I know, it was only just the beginning...", "Most laws of physics only apply to a closed system. If you open our world up by connecting it to another plane of existence, that shit goes out the window...literally. Just the other day I blocked a speeding card by redirecting the force into said plane of existence with a punch, aided by brass knuckles encrusted with strange words and expensive jewelry.\n\nSince then, Kickstarter and Indiegogo have exploded with projects applying this. Imagine if you could vent exhaust heat into another plane, obviating the need for radiators or heat exchange! Consider how many people would buy a core that would let you draw energy from this other plane of existence, with no visible plugs!\n\nBut something's been nagging me during all this: who is on the other side, and what happens when they come to collect?", "I can move things with my mind now. This was not the intent of my research but I'm elated still.\n\n\"It hurts like a bitch\", I think, as I claw at the scab forming just behind my left ear. \"But, that's the price for such an innovation. If only it could have been a little more cleanly inserted\". I glance in the mirror at the thin gash streaking down an inch from the insertion point.\n\nI looked around the room I was in, a wall of computers decorated one side of the softly lit apartment. Faded emerald-green shag carpet stretched across the floor, with yellowing paisley wallpaper filling in the rest of the space up to the ceiling. A painting of a deer being attacked by wolves garnished one wall above a couch, with nothing else of interest in the room.\n\nThis was Todd's room I learned, a peculiar and rather large man who often wore a viking cap. He told me how he had lost his job in the gaming industry and went on to learn how to apply his skills into developing apps. He was graying, with an almost mystical appearance, fritos stained his shirt (A beloved relic of an obvious Dungeons and Dragons fan) while cans of tab decorated the floor around where he sat. He was nice though, however awkward he came off.\n\nI had opted to test a new technological advancement. Todd had figured out how to control computers and smartphones, albeit rudimentally, with a person's brain. After pushing it even farther we learned OTHER things could be controlled, too...\n\n(I can not continue writing this, but dont want it to go to waste. if anybody wants to finish it in the comments thatd be tight)", "In order to understand how I do \"magic\", as you call it, you need to realize that reality isn't this hard rigid thing. We tend to knock on a desk and think wow, that's solid. It isn't. And I'm not talking about neutrinos or quantum tunneling. I'm talking about bending space-time, because it is, in fact, malleable. Surprisingly.\n\nIt turns out that orienting magnetic fields--let me refine that: really strong magnetic fields--it's possible to connect the top of your desk to the bottom of your desk. Yes, I did pull a rabbit out of an empty hat. They may have both been made out of paper, but I had to do it for posterity's sake.\n\nUnfortunately, the strength of the magnetic field corresponds directly with the distance of the tunnel, so I may have accidentally overloaded my equipment. I also may have been responsible for causing a city-wide blackout, but I like to think I was just the straw that broke the camel's back. Either way, I'm stuck with this notebook and candlelight until the electricity comes back on. Which brings me to my next idea: Candle + Hand = Fireballs! Or a hospital visit... Only one way to find out!", "The discovery that I could do magic has got to be the most disappointing moment of my life. Three years ago, while doing a chemistry experiment for a school project, I disccovered an incredibly specific flaw in the laws of physics that allows me to levitate objects. If a one gram cube of Technitum 99 is put in an airtight chamber full of Argon, the law of gravity fails to apply, and I can levitate that cube provided I am wearing a glove made out of silicon. That's it. No fireballs, no magic missiles, just levitating a small cube in a room full of Argon. Physics is a bitch" ]	8
	[WP] Tony Stark wakes up in the hospital and Dr. House is standing in front of his hospital bed.	[ "Tony Stark awakens in a hospital room.\n\"Wait a minute, I didn't fall asleep in a hospital last night. I would have remembered that.\"\nThis was true. Tony Stark was notorious for remembering where he had gone to bed the previous night. \n\"You are in the hospital.\" A voice says. \n\"Wait a minute, I know that voice.\"\nSuddenly, TV's House M.D. appeared above Tony Stark.\nTony began to feel uncomfortable. He didn't want to be seen with someone who was also famous. \n\"Can I get a different doctor, maybe? Maybe one that doesn't have a TV show?\" He called out to nobody. " ]	1
	[WP] While doing some spring cleaning you find an unfamilar wooden chest in the attic, inside amongst assorted trinkets you find a thick well used leather bound journal. You open it at the first entry and read "Today i found a journal in the attic".	[ "\"Today i found a journal in the attic.\" The attic of my new home, just a cheap rental with an unfinished attic. It had taken me a few months to get up there and at first it was exciting to discover something interesting, an old journal in an old chest. There wasn't much else in the attic except some boxes of tile and a rolled up piece of carpet that didn't match any downstairs.\n\nThen a sudden chill washed over me: that lower-case i was so familiar. I used to be a sloppy texter, capitalization and punctuation and spelling optional, r u rly m8, kthx, and so on. And then everyone else got phones with auto-correction, and I started correcting my texts to disguise my frugality and flip phone. However, the lower-case i persisted for years, the pressure-valve of my innate laziness.\n\nThe rest of the page was blank. This waste was not familiar, and the chill dissipated. I flipped the page, and the next one, and the rest...all blank.\n\nJust a prank from an overly-cute prankster who was probably already dead by now. It was a nice journal though. Nice thick pages and real leather--it would cost at least $40. Heck, the cheap cardboard ones at work cost over $15. I decided to make use of it, and so I brought it downstairs and put it on my bedside table. \n\nHowever, I'm lazy as well as frugal, and so the journal just sat there. \n\nI was busy with work and didn't have time to write, nor much to write about. My job and life were kind of drab, I admitted. I decided to wait for a significant event to start it off. Maybe a date, maybe a new job not in retail, or maybe I could save up enough money to take an art course, maybe pottery or painting. I wasn't particularly good at or interested in art, just mildly interested it in, mainly interested in a change or escape.\n\nOr maybe I could volunteer? I was working overtime, though, and didn't even have enough time to decide on something. I liked dogs, could I walk dogs at the pound? Or I could visit people in the hospital. Or do some sort of community thing. Nice thoughts that went nowhere.\n\nI worked, came home, cooked some sort of permutation of rice + protein + vegetables, watched tv, and fell asleep. Woke up, showered, went to work and bought some sort of breakfast roll or sandwich in a drive-thru on the way over. Lunch was always something in the food court at work, snacks from the vending machines. Yes, I could save money by bringing food from home, but I couldn't ever quite manage it. Yes, I could save money by moving closer to work, close enough to walk, but this turned out to be impossible. Whenever I got out of the hole long enough to start saving, something costly always cropped up. Usually the car, sometimes my health, occasionally something to do with my mom or my sister. They lived in a town a few hours away and weren't demanding, but everyone has emergencies sometimes, I guess.\n\nWork eat tv sleep work...years passed like this. I often fantasied about writing about demanding customers, but I lacked the energy. Instead, I flipped through the blank journal and thought about what I should write. I also needed a special pen, and I routinely checked the school supplies aisle at work, but nothing beckoned.\n\nThere was that time I realized that my clothes were starting to get tight, and I tried to start exercising...but when or where? My neighborhood didn't have sidewalks and whenever I tried to do stairs at work, I got sweaty. I did buy an exercise band and a yoga ball once, a set on sale, but I never opened the box.\n\nI flipped through the blank journal and thought about travel. Maybe I would save up and go on a trip. I got too old for backpacking and hostels, and so I started dreaming about one of those bus tours, and then I started thinking about a cruise.\n\nI got promoted at work, to shift manager, but my pay didn't increase because they called the position something else which didn't qualify for a raise. At least I didn't lose any hours, or have to go on salary. \n\nI eventually saved up enough to start looking at options, but then my mom had to go into a home, and I took off some time to help my sister with that. They both ended up moving back with me, my mom down the street, and my sister in my house. It was a small duplex but the dining room could be converted into a 2nd bedroom, so we did that. I saved more money but it went to my mom's assisted living home.\n\nMy sister and I weren't similar, I guess. She was a nurse and so she started working at the local hospital, 2nd shift, so we barely saw each other. It worked out well though.\n\nI flipped through the journal and thought about getting a dog. I had wanted one for years, but had been too busy--but now that there was someone home for most of the day, it wouldn't be cruel. Maybe I could take it on walks and meet someone. People did that, I thought.\n\nMy sister, however, said no dogs. She wanted to just work, eat, tv, and sleep--she was trying to save up money for a trip.\n\nI told her I was trying to do that too, but she wanted to go to Disneyland and I wanted to go to Europe, or the Caribbean, so we didn't have much to discuss after all.\n\nIt was all a farce, anyway, because my mom started going downhill fast once she moved into the assisted-living home. She broke her wrist, became diabetic, and got glaucoma within the first year. All of our spare money went there.\n\nI flipped through the journal and thought about a garden. I had a lawn, that was it. That was more than enough, but some home-grown tomatoes would be nice. Maybe I could send away for heirloom seeds. I even looked at pots at work, but they were all too small and too expensive.\n\nMy sister went through a phase of wanting to move out, not because I was annoying, but because she saw no future in this town. No chance of promotion. No chance of getting onto the day shift unless too many people quit or died.\n\nBut then our mom died and we had a small funeral. It was still costly, and I felt bad about thinking that. My sister just shrugged and said, oh, well.\n\nI flipped through the journal and thought about getting a better car. A newer car with better mileage.\n\nMy sister started having problems with arthritis, though, and eventually she had to quit. Her pension was decent, and she gave me her car because it was a bit better than mine, which I sold.\n\nFor the first time in a while, I had a chunk of money. Fifteen hundred dollars. I didn't actually know what to do with it anymore.\n\nMy sister felt too tired for a trip, and I felt bad about leaving her. She suggested I should just save the money for when something else goes wrong, because we were both getting old. I was close to retirement age, and surely I needed to be extra-frugal after that so that I could stop working so much, if not entirely. I still wasn't sure if I could stop working completely. Our rent kept going up, bit by bit. I had been living there for almost forty years and I had never quite caught up to it.\n\nShe also said that I should also treat myself a little, though, while I still had the chance.\n\nI flipped through the journal and my mind was equally blank.", "Today was the day I finally decided to try and tackle the attic. It's been a dreaded task for months, the place is a mess, full of boxes from the move, old toys from my childhood and god knows what else. In short it's a mess. I'd mentioned about doing it to my wife but I'd just been putting off. It's the kind of task you think about and it just depresses you. But today was different, today I had the whole day ahead of me, enough tea to brew the Atlantic and headphones capable of doing some serious hearing damage.\n\nIt started out well, I figured start small. Starting grouping some stuff together, the old toys here, the books over there, and the frankly strange amount of blankets that we never really seem to know the origin of in that corner. Within about an hour it looked like I'd walked into the lair of a hoarder with a weird sense of organisation, piles all over the place but at least there was some sort of order, at least I was hoping there was. \n\nAfter about 6 cups in roughly half that many hours I discovered a chest. I always thought that chests were just the kind of thing used as a plot device in books and movies. Who would actually look at a big chest and go \"that's exactly what we need to spruce up the place\"? To me it just screams a toe-stubbing magnet but maybe I'm just pessimistic. It was ornate, a deep brown colour with flashes of lighter shades mixed throughout, metal framing holding the sides together, riveted in place forming a formidable chest. I had to admit, it was actually very impressive. The lid was curved, arching over the top, locked in place with metal latch and a pin through the metal rung. It stood firmly towards the edge of the room, almost tempting me with its internals. I promised myself that I wouldn't get distracted but I had to see what was inside.\n\nAt first it wasn't too interesting. The top lined with blankets (seriously, how do they get there? They're actually everywhere) but as I dug further down things started to get interesting. Within was an assortment of trinkets and items that must've belonged to my grandmother or great-grandmother. A box full of hand carved holders and more nibs than I'd ever seen. Small bottles of ink came next, all neatly tucked away into their own box. Sets of rough paper and guides all grouped together, protected from the light for so many years within the caring hold of the chest. The paper frayed at the edges slightly, either where it had been ripped or even where the edges had been left when the paper was produced. Tucked away to the corner of the chest was a leather bound diary, rough thread wrapping the pages of the book. It looped intricately through the front culminating in neatly tied bow on the front. The leather was aged, the corners had begun to fade after light exposure. Pressed into the front of the book were beautiful patterns, forming swirling patterns and stunning designs. With a tender tug of the loose thread, the bow unravelled and dropped lightly, dangling over the edge of the leather. With a wave of dust the cover opened and revealed the secrets of the paper inside.\n\nFlipping through the pages they all seemed blank, as if the book had never been touched before this. Flipping back to the front, I ran my fingers over the paper, feeling the soft bumps beneath my fingers. I placed it down and moved back on to cleaning the room but something drew me back a few minutes later. For some reason I just had to look inside once more. The pages seemed to hold secrets despite the distinct lack of words. Yet when I pulled the cover back, the first page wasn't blank. Along the top a single line was written \"Today I found a journal in the attic\". I just stood for a second. Puzzled. I couldn't have missed this the first time around. I looked at this page and I could swear that it was blank. And, as if by magic (as cliché as the phrase is), words began to appear, quickly as if being scribbled in with a pencil. The handwriting looked familiar and it took me a second to realise it was mine. The flicks and flourishes mixed with the complete chaos that had been drilled into through so many handwriting styles I'd lost count. \n\n\"Today I found a journal in the attic. It's incredible, the leather designs on the front must have taken days to do on their own. It was found in a box belonging to old family but it was empty. I know I shouldn't be using it, I could probably get some actual money for this, but to be honest I've always thought about doing a diary and this seemed pretty tempting. Something just so attractive about this, something about the history, the texture of the paper, the connection to old family.\" The words drift onto the page, right in front of my eyes, like the words are taken straight from my mind. My minds reeling just seeing the text. And something in me just tempts me to try something, I dig through the piles of rubbish and find a pencil, and while it seems like something so new shouldn't be used on a book this old something in me just forces me to do it. Right below the slowly appearing text with an almost shaking hand, I write \"Today I found a journal in the attic\". I don't know why but it just seemed like the right thing to do. The text above falters for a second and stops, the air in the room suddenly takes on an immense weight and time seems to freeze until the lines begin to appear again. \"I must be going crazy. “A few seconds tick by \"Maybe this book is haunted, that's got to be it right? Who am I kidding, there's nothing that makes this make sense. If there is someone reading this, or writing on this or whatever the hell it could be, who are you? How are you doing this?\"\n\nIt takes a moment to process but I finally manage to scratch out \"I don't even know what's going on, I'm Jacob, I found this diary in an old chest in my attic. \" before I could go on more writing appeared: \"what the fu- that's me, I'm Jacob. And I did the same, am I.. talking to myself?\"\n\n-----\n\nNot my best piece but I figure I'll post it anyway. I was going to continue it a bit more but the lateness is getting to me and I can't quite think of a way to go on. Let me know if there are any mistakes.", "After granny's death, the house that I had often visited during Chinese New Year and Christmas celebrations was left largely abandoned. Mum and dad were busy with their work and every attempt to clean the place was somehow postponed due to due to last minute excuses. Meetings, work trips, bad weather, you get the drift. \n\nSo when I received a job offer to move back to granny's hometown, the responsibility naturally fell to me. Not that I am complaining, after all a place with free rent has to come with some form of responsibility. \n\nThe first time I stepped into the house, I was immediately hit with a sense of nostalgia, the realization of how fast time has passed. Nothing really changed in granny's house in all those years. The old looking couch with their traditional floral pattern, the marble dining table and the wooden chairs. They all looked straight out of the 50s. There was the familiar scent too, I call it the granny smell, because it was so hard to describe and only granny's house seemed to have it.\n\nGranny has always been a neat person, so other than some major dusting, there was not much to clean in the house. It was a simple single story house, with two rooms and a modest garden outside, but it served its purpose in looking after a family of five. After cleaning all the rooms and common areas, I decided to check out the attic as well, an area that was forbidden when I was young.\n\nThe place was filled with cobwebs and dirt, with many cardboard boxes stacked on top of each other. I never knew my granny to be a hoarder. But among those boxes, one stood out from the rest. Made from wood, with gold painted carvings on its side, the chest had a certain mysterious vibe to it. Not the creepy kind, but one that suggested that there were untold stories and adventures behind it. \n\nMy curious hands could not resist the temptation to open the chest, which turned out to be surprisingly unlocked. Inside, there were many oriental looking trinkets, some made of jade while the others gold, carved intrinsically into shapes like dragon and other animals, plus words that I have no idea what they meant. And right at the corner of the chest, hidden beneath all the expensive trinkets, was a curious looking journal. Leather bound, brown in colour.\n\nIt seemed weirdly out of place, which was why I opened it. The pages were still crisp white, blank. What was a blank book doing in a chest filled with all these trinkets and ornaments?\n\nMy granny must have misplaced it. As I closed the book however, the sight of words appearing on the first page made my hands stop. In black cursive letter, the sentence read Today I found a journal in the attic.\n\nThe shock of me caused me to drop the journal on the floor, as I saw new words appeared on it. I stood there for a moment, wondering whether to pick it up. When I did, there was already a new sentence on the page.\n\nI was shocked that the journal I found seemed to have magical powers, causing me to drop it on the floor.\n\nIs this some sort of Tom Riddle's journal?\n\nLike the previous times, new words instantaneously appeared.\n\nI wondered if this journal was similar to Tom Riddle's from the Harry Potter series, but the short answer was it's not. It is in fact slightly different, having been enchanted by a Chinese witch instead, who never attended the fictional school of Hogwarts.\n\nMy granny?\n\nAnd yes, she is none other than my very own grandmother, who wanted to keep this a secret from her family. Sadly, she seemed to have forgotten about this journal, created when she was young.\n\nMy hands snapped the book shut after the last sentence, as my mind suddenly finding it hard to process what I just saw. The journal seemed to be not only able to record what was happening, it had the ability to reveal more than what is recorded. If the journal had so much power, my mind could not even began to grasp what power the other trinkets held. I slammed the chest shut, and proceeded hastily back to my living room.\n\nI am a witch's granddaughter. And I've only found out through some weird journal that can sort of talk back to me. I stared at the attic door, the realization finally sinking in.\n\nNo, I am not going to deal with this and I just want a normal life.\n\nThe attic door will have to stay closed forever.\n\n----------\n\n/r/dori_tales" ]	3
	[WP] Every device screen in the world is currently displaying a black screen with a skull and the word "death"; except yours, it displays a solid green color.	[ "A tall, dark figure came up to me and stooped down to look at my Samsung Galaxy S7 (now on offer! Comes with a free cover, offer valid for 1 week) closely.\n\n\"Something's wrong.\"\n\n\"What happened? Why me?\"\n\nI looked up and down, anticipating a giant portal to open above or below me.\n\n\"It appears you are the chosen one, you are my successor,\" he responded in a deep voice as he closely inspected the device.\n\n\"...really?\"\n\n\"No, you're screwed too. I forgot to pay the VFX guy yesterday.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Reddit eventually takes over and separated the world into factions with the most popular subreddits being the most influential. It is 2173 and World War 3 is about to begin.	[ "\"All units, mobilize on our position. The enemy is approximately 100 meters ahead of us. Stealth is critical. Copy.\"\n\n\"Affirmative. Orders?\"\n\n\"Standby.\"\n\nIt was a hot summer day, in the year 2173. The Great Subreddit War had started only a month ago, and I was a soldier of the faction. The war began with an admin, a fabled figure who appeared on the Reddit Subreddit list with one simple message: \n\n\"Greetings all. \n\nDue to recent budget cuts and server deficiencies, Reddit will be going offline permanently until such time as certain large subreddits are deleted by their respective owners via request as to cut back on data usage. Because of the scale of the problem, these deleted subreddits need not be small and buried ones but rather large ones with 1 million or more subscribers, such as the ones on the default list. \n\nWe are very sorry to announce this change, and hope that Reddit can someday be again what it once was. \n\nYou can contact me at admin09@reddithelp.com with requests to delete subreddits. Spam will be ignored. Reddit will go offline on January 7th, 2173 at 1:00 PM, San Francisco time. \n\nThank you all and see you on the other side.\n\nAs you might imagine, this caused quite an uproar within the Reddit community. Being pasted at the top of every Subreddit, it quickly blew into a fight as to which subreddits would be axed, and since several major world leaders not only used Reddit, but owned top subreddits, it escalated into a global conflict. \n\nWhen Reddit did go offline, the Emperor of the United States, Eric Trump, and the President of North Korea, Jim-Young San, declared war on one another to defend their respective subs. San controlled the World News faction, and Trump controlled the Business faction. Britain was soon to follow, with King Henry XXI controlling the Writing Prompts faction. Nations slowly but surely joined the fray, and only 3 months later, WWIII began. I was simply a British Soldier, carrying out the commands of my CO. \n\n\"All units, alert. Canadian troops spotted. Use extreme caution. Do not abandon objective.\"\n\n\"Copy.\"\n\nI motioned to my unit to follow me and relayed the orders to them. Every soldier nodded, but I could see some start to look queasy. You didn't mess with the Canadians. Under their Supreme Leader Anton Dzretsky, Canada was the most feared and bloody nation of them all, making a turn in 2097 when they were annexed by Russia under Dimitri Putin. Now the leaders of the Funny faction, they were determined to do anything their Supreme Leader commanded. \n\nWe stalked into the bushes, pushing aside brambles and thistles that got stuck on our uniforms, being careful not to make too much noise. A piercing scream from behind us, most likely the battle from which we had just fled (under orders), made us all jump and we froze, unsure if we had alerted anyone to our presence. Most likely, according to the present information, a group of American troops and a group of Canadian troops, the two most bloody fighting factions, were duking it out in the clearing ahead of us. When I craned my neck over the small hedge we were hiding in, my fears were confirmed. Canadian troops in their fearsome Crimson star-adorned uniforms were standing over a group of American soldiers, who were bound with rope, and they were taking turns stoning them with hard rocks they picked up from the ground. Every instinct in my body willed me to jump up and engage them, but I held back. \n\n\"Sir?\" I said into my walkie. \n\n\"Yes, Lieutenant?\" The reply came back, more fuzzy and disconnected than before. \n\n\"Canadian troops are in sight, engaging a group of Americans. Orders?\"\n\n\"I said standby, Lieutenant. You have your orders.\"\n\n\"Affirmative.\"\n\nI turned to my unit. I was about to give them a status update when I heard a rumbling coming from the East. I looked to the sky and said a silent \"Fuck yeah.\" Zooming through the sky and riding their military drones as if they were stepping stones, adorned in Master Chief-esque uniforms, were the Unites Forces of Australia, under the Dank Memes faction. Less invested in the outcome of the war, the Dank Memes faction was mostly a part of the war to help their Western allies, which included us and the United States, as well as some of the other major European factions such as the EU under the Esperanto faction (I can dream, okay) and Greece under the Stories faction. Said to be undefeatable, the Dank Memes faction had never lost a single battle to the Canadians, and as they approached, the Canadians scattered. My walkie suddenly blared to life. \n\n\"Assist them, we may need their-\"\n\nThe walkie cut out, and I heard a rustle behind us. \n\nPart 2 in comments!!!\n\nEDIT: Removed buggy links" ]	1
	[WP] You have on special skill. You can stop time and walk among the silent, frozen earth. Everyone freezes in time as you will. Until you see something move in the corner of your eyes.	[ "\"Lucy you're meant to stand still.\"\n\n\"Sorry Jim, it's not like I can stand still forever.\"\n\n\"That's your job Lucy\"\n\n\"Yeah Jim? How about you try standing still with a dick up your ass!\"\n\nJim sighs, a long drawn sigh. \"This takes a failure put it on /r/timestop for those stupid redditors.\"\n\nAnd so Reddit got a new r/timestop video that day, what an epic day it was.\n\nEnd.\n", "\"That was the last time I stopped. It became too risky after that. I guess it was always risky, but that was when I first realized. It's like you've been playing catch for ages only to discover the ball is, in fact, a live hand grenade. I freaked. I unpaused time and ran. I ran all the way back home, packed up and ran again. I haven't stopped running. And he's still there, at the corner of my vision, Never Closer... but then he's also Never Further Away. He moves in perfect lockstep... and he waits. Just 6 feet away. Sometimes I think I should have one last stop, see what happens. See if He'll finally stop following. That's all it would take, he'd catch up and... Well, y'know... \n\nSo, uh, Ready? \n\n...Here we go then.\n\nOne... Last... Stop.\"", "\"How are you not hung over?\" Sarah said, making no effort to disguise her annoyance at being woken at 8:30 on a Sunday morning.\n\n\"I'm a machine,\" Aaron answered, acting overly chipper. \"I actually start to break down if I don't consume large quantities of whiskey on a regular basis. Now get out of bed, I made breakfast.\"\n\nSarah lifted her head off the pillow, glaring at Aaron through the remains of last night's makeup. \"Do you have any idea how drunk you were last night? You were drunkenly slurring that you were a time traveler. Where do you get off going from that to waking me up with breakfast?\"\n\n\"You know most people would say thank you,\" Aaron said, laughing as he headed to the kitchen.\n\n\"No, they'd say 'Fuck off!' Which is what I'm saying,\" Sarah yelled after him.\n\nThe truth was that Aaron had been hung over when he woke up this morning. So he had paused time while he slept if off. Pausing time was something he'd been able to do since his 16th birthday. The whole world would freeze when he wished it to. He could move freely about the frozen world, so long as he was careful, and gentle. Touching anything living was out of the question - the instantaneous movement of moving while time was stopped yielded, at a minimum, broken bones. But Aaron could open most doors, and move most other sturdy inanimate objects without incident.\n\nThanks to this power, Aaron was a straight A student on his way to law school. He was also a model boyfriend to Sarah - he was never without a gift for special occasions, and always seemed to have some flowers whenever she was having a bad day.\n\nThat's why he didn't panic when, after breakfast, Sarah said, \"Hey, did you pick up that picture I had framed for my parents' anniversary tonight?\"\n\n\"Of course,\" Aaron answered smoothly. \"I left it in the car. Want me to go grab it?\"\n\n\"Could you? I want to wrap a bow around it.\"\n\nAaron stepped out of their apartment and froze time. It was a bit of a walk to the framing shop, but he was used to long walks at this point.\n\nHe was halfway there when he saw something he wasn't used to. Something moving. Or rather someone. A teenager walking down the sidewalk across the street, looking around the frozen world in awe.\n\n\"Holy shit!\" Aaron exclaimed. The kid whirled around on his heels, facing Aaron.\n\n\"Hey!\" the kid yelled. \"Is this a dream?\"\n\n\"No. Not exactly,\" Aaron said, walking over to him. \"How are you moving right now?\" \n\n\"With my feet. What kind of a question is that? How are you moving?\"\n\n\"I'm moving because I'm the one that made time stop-\"\n\n\"You made time stop? How?\"\n\n\"With my mind, but that's not important right now. What's important is whether you've been awake for time stopping before. And what you were doing when time stopped this time.\"\n\n\"This is the first time anything like this has happened to me. I was eating a late breakfast when everything froze. At first I thought my family was playing a weird birthday prank, but then I saw a bird just hanging in the air outside the window.\"\n\n\"You turned 16 today, didn't you?\"\n\n\"Yeah, how'd you know?\"\n\n\"That's when I got this power. What's your name?\"\n\n\"Chris.\"\n\n\"Good to meet you Chris. Listen, chances are you have the power to pause time too. There's a lot for me and you to talk about. But this is already shaping up to be a long day for me. This is already the second time I've paused the day. The first was probably while you were sleeping-\"\n\n\"No wonder I felt so rested this morning!\"\n\n\"-and I'm going to have to freeze things again on my way back from the framing shop. Let's plan on meeting up tomorrow and we can figure out how this is going to work. For now, just go home and try to get back in the same position you were in when time stopped. Be sure to pick up any plates or glasses you moved while time froze. Chances are good they'll shatter if you leave them wherever you moved them to.\"\n\n\"Okay, got it. This is so cool.\" Chris said.\n\n\"It is. Now when I freeze time again today, just relax. Try not to touch anything, and definitely don't touch anyone. Just grab a book and do some reading. And don't freeze time until we've had time to talk!\"\n\nChris agreed, and the two exchanged contact information and parted ways. Aaron spent the rest of the walk to the framing shop thinking over the implications of someone else being able to freeze time. There was a lot of possibility there. Someone else to work with. The two of them could solve some big problems if they worked together. Or at least make a lot of money.\n\nAaron arrived at the framing shop and unfroze time just long enough to go in and pick up the picture. He froze time again and went home, unfreezing it just as he reached his own front door. \n\n\"Here it is,\" Aaron said casually as he walked in.\n\n\"Thanks babe,\" Sarah said, kissing him on the cheek.\n\nThe rest of the day went smoothly, and Aaron was pleasantly surprised when he saw he actually had picked up his suit from the cleaners. He was in great spirits when the two of them arrived at the restaurant, even looking forward to seeing his girlfriend's uptight parents.\n\nIt wasn't until he released his girlfriend's mother from a hug that he realized something was wrong. No one was moving. \n\n\"Oh no,\" Aaron said. \"Chris...\"\n\nAaron looked at Mrs. Cole. He had leaned into the hug a little, and she looked pushed back a little unnaturally. Trying to remain as calm and steady as possible, Aaron shifted Mrs. Cole a little more upright. \"Please, please, please,\" Aaron wished.\n\nIt happened all at once. Time started. Mrs. Cole went flying forward into the dinner table, knocking it over. Sarah screamed, and Mr. Cole dove forward to help his wife. But Mrs. Cole was okay. Not even a broken bone, but she did have the wind knocked out of her.\n\n\"Two of us is going to be a problem,\" Aaron muttered to himself.\n" ]	3
	[WP] Every year, you're allowed to relive a memory from any day of your past, only to observe. Other people choose different memories each year. You've been visiting the same one for many, many years.	[ "I don't know why I do this to myself, I really don't. Well, actually I do. I just don't want to admit it. It keeps me humble. There, you made me say it. April 26th is my day in the Rememberator. Me and half the planet it seems. I get that everyone wants to relive a cherished memory, but don't they realize that my time is more important than theirs? I can't be expected to get up early to avoid the line. Really, all these little peons should just get out of my way. God, I wish I could say that out loud. Last year they threw me out when I said something like that. There might have been a little six year old girl involved. I don't remember little details like that. It's beneath me. The three people in front of me take their half an hour in the pod, and all three come out weeping. Poor little poor people. They should've become an actor, like me. I press my thumb to the scanning screen, and it verifies my identity. I hope the people behind me heard it. The technician fit me into the pod, and put the bite pad into my mouth. I tried to give her a withering look. Like I would need that thing. She closes the pod door with a roll of her eyes, and everything went blank. \n\nMy teenage bedroom flows in around me. It was small, with just enough room for a bed and dresser. The walls were bare drywall,undecorated. Everything in the room was threadbare. The rug on the floor looked like it had mange, and it had long ago lost it's original color. I was sprawled on the bed, looking at my costume for the play that would take place in a few hours. It was wonderful, and easily the newest thing in the room. I had hung it off the back of my door, hoping to stop it from being wrinkled when folded. I was so damn proud that I had gotten the lead part. Hours of rehearsal, and learning my lines. I used to practice them when I walked back and forth to school. A crash came from the living room and both versions of me flinched in response. Me on the bed closed his eyes, trying to disappear. I kept my eyes open as my father barreled into the room, yelling about something. The past me had done his best to not be here, and what my father was angry about this time was lost to the past forever. What wasn't lost was him grabbing the costume and attacking it. He ripped and tore at it, screaming something about being an arrogant pretty boy. Past me leapt at him, only to be knocked back, and kicked while on the floor. I hated this part. The pain flared in my ribs and head as though I were the one on the floor. Now I did close my eyes. Eventually the tirade stopped, and the monster that was my father moved off to destroy something else. Crying softly, the past me dragged himself to the shreds of the costume, curling up in the tatters that were left as though they could protect him. I didn't need to see the solid hour of weeping and the desperate attempt to put the costume back together. I didn't need to see myself painfully slipping out the window and running to the school, dizzy and in despair. Instead, I fast forwarded to the play. The director had been pissed about the costume, but the costuming department had risen to the challenge and thrown something together. We had gone through most of the play, and I had fallen into the rhythm of acting. I had shoved the incident before to the back of my mind. But during my last monologue, the culmination of the play, I saw my father slip into the auditorium, anger and rage just barely leashed. And the lines fled from my mind as my heart dropped down to my shoes. The rest of the cast looked askance at me, wondering why I stopped now. The silence was absolute. Somewhere, near my the bottom of my stomach, pure panic had started. Impossible to resist, nothing could stop the physical reaction to the mental panic. I bent over, and puked on my shoes. In the pod, I panicked as well, biting down on the pad and flailing for the panic button. The memory cut off, and the sharp light of the facility flowed in. The door opened and I collapsed to my knees, puking helplessly on the clean tiled floor. Within a few seconds, the technician was by my side. She supported me with an arm around my shoulders, as her other hand unhooked me from the machine.\n \n\"Sorry,\" I managed to choke out between heaves. \"I'm sorry. Made a mess. Do you have to clean this?\" I tried to look at her, but the small movement of my head sent a bolt of pain through my temples. A small chuckle went through her, but her voice was still disgusted as she answered.\n\"No, I don't. But this whole area will need to be cleaned before anyone else can use this pod.\" I nodded, managed to stand with her help, and made it the bathroom. Slowly, I cleaned my face and rinsed my mouth. I avoided looking at the mirror. Once I felt steady, I left the bathroom, and made to leave the facility. There was a janitor where I had vomited, spreading cleaning chemicals over the floor. He glanced up at me. \n\"Do you need any help? I am the one that made the mess.\" I offered.\n\nHe grunted, and shook his head. I walked on, now eager to get home. The line was still outside, now impatient and irritated. I looked at them, tired and hopeful. All of them waiting to see happier memories than mine. I looked at the ground, and walked away. I was too ashamed to bother apologizing. One or two of them might need to wait until another day now, depending on how long it took to clean the mess. I passed my car, and kept walking toward the bus stop, still in the grip of my shame. I wasn't kidding when I said it kept me humble. ", "Walter looked down at his cracked, withered hands and began to cry.\n\n\"No more...\" he whispers to himself in a low tone that cracks with heartbreak. He gazes into the mirror and stares deeply into his eyes, hating what he sees. The bottle, nearly gone, sits on the toilet lid. \n\nA friend.\n\nHis heart pangs and his face flushes.\n\nPicking it up, he yells \"FUCK!\" as load as he can croak it out. A deep sob, twist of the cap, and the whiskey is emptied into his plastic cup. Dropping it into the trash can he can hear the clink of glass on glass and winces.\n\nHe moves to the sitting room and turns the lamp off, but leaving the television on he heads up the stairs to the bedroom.\n\nThis night was always the hardest. January 2nd. The worst day of the year.\n\nThe best was always the 1st. He got to see her again, spend their last day together \none more time. This was his 27th year getting to relive that day, and he couldn't stand the pressure of living to get to number 28. He would rather be dead but couldn't let her memory die with him.\n\nThe first year it happened he was in prison for her death. \n\nShe died in September 1940 in a crash in Cincinatti, with him behind the wheel. He was in prison on January 1st 1941 for being drunk when it happened.\n\nWhen he awoke, instead of a cold cot and shit stained walls, he felt the warmth of their huge bed and opened his eyes to see the yellow and white striped walls shining in the morning sun.\n\n\"I can't believe you slept in so late, darling..\"\n\nHe was floored to see her, bursting into tears and jumping from the bed ran to embrace her. But she was a phantom. He ran straight through her and slammed into the wall behind with a thud only he could hear. Looking back towards the bed shocked, he could see himself lying under the covers and staring up at her lovingly.\n\nThe memory said \"me neither\" with a smile and got up out of bed, kissing her deeply. He sunk into the corner, staring with wonder, mouth agape, hands gripping his thick hair.\n\nHe would watch his memory sneak away and take quick, big drinks of whiskey, choking them down, and he would scream and try to attack his past self. He watched it lie to her, say that his laundry was finished, only to grab the bottle hidden in the water damaged boxes in the basement by the dryer. \n\nHe remembered his thoughts on that day, that morning. He vomits watching the phantom hunched over the bottle, taking one drink, and another, and another, then heads back upstairs. It goes into the bathroom to wash its teeth. \n\nHer eyes would look lovingly towards him, and he would talk to her and ask questions, ignoring the fact that her answers were never right. \n\n2 hours later, walking out of the Newport Aquarium hand in hand, rain began to fall. The 3 of them began to run, two of them laughing at the misfortune, and one lagging behind for the first time that day.\n\nAll day he followed them, trying to, at all times, be in the exact spot his memory self was. When she grabbed its hand, he would ball his fist and hold it in the right spot and close his eyes, trying to imagine her touch and warmth. Many times he began to weep and confess his love to her, screaming apologies and begging for mercy. \n\n\"I can't watch her die,\" he says out loud to himself, \"I can't. I can't...\" He began again to sob, putting his head heavily into his hands and closing his eyes. Seconds later, looking up, he realized that they had disappeared around the corner. \n\nHe sat a bench near the river and gazed at the ripples formed by the downpour. Nearly hypnotized, his eyes felt heavy and then shut.\n\nWhen he opened them again, he was in the backseat of their car, with the memory behind the wheel and wife in the passenger seat.\n\n\"NO!!!\" \n\nScreaming and crying, moaning and beginning to feel sick again, he undoes his seatbelt and lunges for the car door, but he cant grab the handle. \n\n\"NOOOOO!!!!\"\n\nSeconds later, he can feel the car lose grip of the road and begin to tailspin. It crashes through the guardrail and down the steep hill, going into a barrel roll with the 1943 model crumpling up like a ball of paper. He sees the phantom go flying out the windshield.\n\nWith the car settled and aflame, he is trapped, unable to move, staring at the bloody mess of hair, metal, and flesh that his wife has become. \n\n\"I'm so sorry...\" he says through tears, as the car explodes.\n\n17 years after the first time, he was out of prison and living alone for the first time in his life. The bottle would be his only friend, or love, for the rest of his pathetic life. Months would go by at the bars, telling strangers of time travel and sounding like a psychotic. Years passed. He was barely a man, and nothing of the person he was before the accident. Suicide was his only option, but every time the barrel was in his mouth he'd think of her face on that morning, asking why he had slept in. Tears, and screams of agony, but no gunshot.\n\nBut tonight he had changed his mind. He knew he wouldn't sleep, he never could on the 1st. \n\n\"I don't think I can do it,\" he says to the ceiling with eyes open,\"my life is a waste. Scum of the earth.\" He chuckles at himself, paying homage to how pathetic he had become. He rolls onto his side, pulling open the nightstand drawer and grabbing the .38 revolver. Putting it into his mouth, he smiles with morbid humor, recognizing the taste of the metal. \n\nHis last thought was of her, watching the fish in the coral exhibit. She was so beautiful. He imagined reaching out and tapping her shoulder, and having her actually feel his touch. \n\nHe pulled the trigger.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"I feel like we've done this before.\" \n\nHer hand was warm. I raised it to my lips, \"Why would you say that?\" \n\n\"You know.\" She said, \"You know what I'm like when I visit my memory of my mother cooking. You're being like that right now.\" she brushed a stray hair from her head, \"I guess that means I don't have much time anymore.\" \n\nI shrugged. There was no need to state the obvious. Anyone who saw her paper thin skin and dark, sunken eyes could tell that. \"Maybe. Maybe I'm just thinking of where to bring you for holiday once you're better.\" \n\nShe smiled, \"You weren't this good a liar five minutes ago.\" \n\nI sighed. \"Is it so wrong to want to spend more time with you?\" \n\nShe shrugged. \"It doesn't bode well for the future...your future, I suppose. Are you happy?\" \n\n\"Will it make a difference if I tell you that?\" I replied, \"You're just a simulation.\" \n\n\"A simulation you're supposed to observe at most.\" she leaned against my shoulder, tiredly. \"How many times have you broken the rules already?\" \n\n\"A number.\" I said, \"It's not as hard as you might think. I think they turn a blind eye because you don't have a future to change.\" I shut my eyes, \"Goodnight, sleep well.\" \n\n\"Goodnight, you too.\" " ]	3
	[WP] Luke Skywalker had the option to go to Cloud City and help his friends, but he decided to stay with Yoda and continue his training...	[ "Han checked the time impatiently. \n\n\"So where is he?\"\n\nExasperated, Lando Calrissian, Baron-Administrator threw up his hands and raised his voice. \"I don't know, Solo. It's not like I even KNEW HE EXISTED. ALL I WAS TOLD WAS THAT YOU'D COME HERE.\"\n\nHan sat in a chair at the table, toying with a datapad. He kept looking at the dark figure at the other end of the room, and shaking his head. He was growing tired of waiting, and the same recsim he was playing was growing old. Even Leia was growing bored, idly crumpling up napkins and tossing them at See Threepio. Finally, Vader looked at her and shook a finger at her.\n\n\"Keep it up, young lady. Do it one more time and no dessert.\"\n\nShe stuck her tongue out at the Dark Lord, then threw a napkin-ball at him. The ball stopped in midair and unfolded itself neatly. Lord Vader sighed, the sound harsh and mechanical from behind the mask.\n\n\"Go to your room. This instant.\"\n\n\"Make me.\", came the reply. Vader shook his head, then turned to Calrissian.\n\n\"Could you call him again? I grow tired of waiting.\"\n\n* * \n\n\"I've got to go to them!\"\n\nThe teenager stood up, while Master Yoda sat back. The small Jedi sighed and looked back at Luke. \"Decide you must, how to serve them best. If you leave now, help them you could; but you would destroy all for which they have fought, and suffered.\"\n\nLuke sat and pondered for a moment.\n\n\"You know, I guess that makes sense. I will continue my training and fight Vader when I am ready.\"\n\n\"A wise decision, you have made. Your friends, survive, they will.\"\n\n * *\n\nSome time later, back on Cloud City, the Ugnaughts brought in the dinner. Some fowl in a tangy citrus glaze. Only Chewbacca ate; the rest continued to mope around waiting for Luke to show up. It had been weeks since he was supposed to arrive, and they were making a regular routine of eating dinner together, laughing and joking. Even Vader was smiling behind that sinister black mask of his. No one could have forseen this, as even the Emperor himself called in to find out what happened to Luke. The plan was all in disarray, and not wanting to waste any more time, His Excellency, Emperor Palpatine, let everyone leave.\n\n\"It appears that young Skywalker is not going to show up. you all may leave, but be near your comm arrays. I may need to call you back if he shows up. Young lad is most likely finishing his training. Vader, return to Executor. I need to talk with you about other matter. And Han, Leia, go back to rebelling or whatever. We'll start this again when Luke comes back.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Amazon sent you the wrong T-shirt, and you assume it was a simple mixup. Write about the actual catastrophe that happened to mix up your order.	[ "I waited eagerly by the window next to my front door but in a cautious way as to not alert anyone of my presence, I was waiting for the amazon delivery parcel force to arrive and give me my slipknot tshirt. It was from a recent gig from their latest tour and I was not quick enough to buy one from the actual event so I had to order one from the internet, you may think that's a bit silly but because I'm such a massive fan of Slipknot I was willing to pay the extra price. The actual reason I want the tshirt so badly is because of my t shirt collection, I've attended as many Slipknot gigs as I possibly can within reason and bought a t shirt from each and every tour so you can imagine my dismay at not being able to acquire one from the venue at which I attended them.\n\nIt was looking to be a miserable morning as the clock struck Noon and no parcel had made its arrival just yet, although I did choose the 'before saturday 1pm' delivery option so there was only an hour to go. An hour to wait for something you so desperately want is an hour that can last a week so I had to keep myself occupied, I watched TV or rather I stared at the tv and glanced at my window every 10 seconds or so. I cooked some food, well I say cooking I mean I put something in the oven and turned the oven on and waited for 15 minutes... just another thing to wait for, I wasn't even hungry so it wasn't all that bad. I looked at the clock for the 105th time today, it read 12:58pm. I only had two minutes left before the deadline, then I could whinge and whine all I wanted and be able to justify it, would I be calling the amazon helpline with my complaint and enquiry about my 'overdue' parcel? damn right I will be. I paid an extra £5 for that time window, imagine if I had to be somewhere for 13:15? Imagine if it was a funeral or someones wedding! Amazon really have no consideration someti-. ding dong I ran for the door and answered it, lo and behold it was Jesus himself the amazon delivery guy with my neatly packaged tshirt which I resentfully and calmly took from him, resentful because I wanted to snatch it out of his hands and slam the door in his face and open it up so I could neatly fold it in the way I wanted it folded and add it to my collection in my bedroom drawer never to be touched again by me or anyone else, especially anyone else, I'm not obsessed I promise. \n\nHe asked me for a signature and as he passed me the sign pad touch screen thingy I noticed a very unkempt look about him, he was sweaty from head to toe his hair was greasy and he had a very modest and 'heroic' look about him as if he deserved and craved praise from me for doing his very simplistic job. I simply said thanks and was about to close the door when he did a little victory jig and skipped up and clocked his feet together before doing a little swivel and pointing at me with a giant smirk and bending his knee forward. \"Erm... ok\" I said to him, completely baffled.\n\n\"Are you not going to ask me how I made it in time?\" what? what is he talking about? \n\n\"Erm... no... Thanks for package dude now erm... have a good day yeah?\" I was about to once again close the door on him but this time more as a slam to emphasis my dissatisfaction at his keeping me waiting when he spoke once more. sigh\n\n\"It all began this morning at 3.00am, I was on the night shift you see and as an amazon delivery truck driver I am sometimes required in the final packing stages of the packaging process, it all began when Jimmy walked up to me with a very, very odd question indeed...\"" ]	1
	[WP] A secret society of vampires, werewolves, ghosts, demons, angels, pixies, and others that that dedicates its time to critiquing films,novels, and other literary works in the "Paranormal Romance" genre.	[ "In a drawing room somewhere, a rather unlikey group convened. It was quite a luxurious drawing room, dimly lit and heavily curtained because of certain allergies. Comfortable armchairs sat at intervals around a low coffee table set with esoteric runes. The tiny carvings on the tabletop squirmed as if in protest to the rolls and rolls of paper, books and DVD cases strewn about its surface. \n\n\"I don't know why we bother.\" A tinny voice squeaked, \"95% of this is PWP!\" \n\nA rather hairy looking gentleman looked up hopefully from his seat, \"Pro-werewolf pieces?\" \n\nA book flew seemingly from nowhere, smacking the unfortunate man in the back of his head. He let out a whine. A low sussuration echoed around the room, \"Idiot. Pitzy means random, dispassionate acts of perversity. Pitzy means the mindless mashing of random bodies in a meaningless, repetitive diarrhea.\" \n\nThere was a refined chuckle from a shaded corner. A pale hand extended from the shadows, snatching up a heavy goblet of red liquid. \n\n\"You sound amused.\" The tiny flittering pixie fluttered about the chamber as a near invisible silver glow, \"Why do you sound amused? Aren't you ashamed of foolish fantasies like wimpy vampires falling in love with even wimpier humans?\" \n\nA beautiful head leaned forward, wildhaired and pale. It shook its head slowly, seductively. It was difficult to tell what gender it was, even when it spoke, except that there was something hypnotically pleasing about it. \"I am amused. It's so easy to find prey these days.\" it said, \"The humans...they believe in us enough to walk into dark places to find us...but not enough to bring the stakes and garlic and pitchforks. Ah...I've never fed so well before, not even in the old days when we farmed the peasants...\" \n\n\"Ha!\" The fireplace beyond the table burst suddenly into flames. A large, horned head formed from the smoke, \"You always were an opportunistic one, dark child.\" \n\nThe vampire shook its head in disdain, \"What is he here for?\" it demanded, \"He's not allowed to be here. Do humans seriously want to romance disgusting things like he?\" \n\n\"You entered a pact with me.\" the fiery head cackled. \n\n\"For immortality.\" the vampire hissed, \"There is nothing attractive about your eldritch, monstrous form. Ugh, my brain is itching just looking at you.\" it frowned, \"Why did I have to gain enough insight to see your truer form?\" \n\n\"Um...you'd be surprised how many squicky stories there are.\" the hairy man timidly suggested, raising his hand. \n\n\"Shut up, Hairy.\" the pixie waved languidly, \"Get going.\" she shooed the flames, \"We won't get anything done if our brains start oozing out of our eye sockets.\" \n\n\"Fine, Fine...\" \"Are we actually getting anything done? Anything meaningful?\" \n\nThe sussurations started again, \"Everything is pointless. Yes, pointless. There is no end and no new beginning. There is nothing.\" \n\n\"No!\" The pixie exploded with glitter. The hairy man sneezed and spluttered, \"Now let's try this again...\" " ]	1
	[WP] Today is your wedding day. You can recall all the fond memories leading up to this, the proposal, the dating, the friendship. You just can't seem to remember the person.	[ "In a world this vast, the possibility of every person having “the one” seemed to be a given, but the chance of finding them grew unlikelier with each passing second. \n\nJacob had used plenty of dating services in the past. Paid thousands for a professional matchmaker to find the woman he would one day marry. But each prospective match had been wrong for him in some way. An intense, white-hot spark that faded fast. A deep contentment that paved the way to companionship and nothing more. And once, a broken engagement that had left burnt bridges between him and his closest friend. \n\nJacob had loved and respected Catherine so deeply. She had made him into a better person, but the heat, the chemistry was never there. They had so much together that Jacob had convinced himself it would develop naturally, if he was patient. It didn't. Eventually, Catherine had grown tired of him waiting for something that would never happen, and left without more than a note. There were many stories like it in his life, but nothing had hurt him quite as much as that one. After losing her, the idea of finding his soulmate seemed laughable. Utterly impossible.\n\nUntil today.\n\nToday, Jacob was getting married.\n\nHe still couldn't wrap his head around it. It had been one last-ditch effort on his part, a final gamble before giving up on true love forever. One week of intense questions, two hundred thousand dollars, and three brain scans. His friends had called him crazy to give that much to a matchmaking company, no matter how state-of-the-art it claimed to be, but who could put a price on this? On standing at the altar, looking down the aisle, and seeing the woman who would be your partner in life and love dressed in white? \n\nGod, the second Jacob laid eyes on her, the world fell away. His face and hands grew hot, his heart thumped in his chest. She was absolutely beautiful. No, beautiful wasn't even enough to describe it. A painting, a sunset was beautiful. His wife-to-be was levels above that. She was so breathtaking that he couldn't pull his gaze away from her. Auburn curls swept up into playful braided bun, exposing the sloping curve of her neck. The heart-shaped bodice enhanced her silhouette, while the tight waist of her dress drew the eye to her shapely hips. Even the mere peek of her slender ankles from underneath the lace hem of her skirt made Jacob dizzy. \n\nShe hadn't yet spoken a word, but Jacob could hear her voice in his head. He knew it well from the memories of their first date, when she'd burst out with laughter over one of Jacob's favorite stories of summer camp over dinner.\n\nHe hadn't yet touched her, but he knew her hands were always a little colder than his. On their first trip together to France, he'd pretended the thermostat was broken just to have an excuse to huddle together in front of the fireplace.\n\nShe'd had his heart from the time he'd first met her. A blurted proposal after three weeks of carefully planned dates would have scared away any sensible woman, he thought, but her cheeks turned red and raised high in a joyful grin. Before Jacob could apologize for it, her lips pressed against his over and over again, and she was crying, saying, “You don't know how much I've been hoping you would ask me that.”\n\nAnd every time Jacob looked at her, she stole his heart once more.\n\nWith unsteady fingers, Jacob pulled back the veil and knew that she was his, and that he would never let her go. The soft smile on her face as she raised her dark green eyes to look at him seemed to say the same.\n\nHer name, which had escaped him for so long, finally surfaced in his mind.\n\nLaura.\n\nWhen she finally spoke those two words Jacob had been dreaming of since he met her, her voice was as soft and melodic as he remembered, and filled with love. \n\n“I do.”\n\n----\n\n“Congratulations, Jacob.”\n\nJacob turned to Giorgianna, his face breaking out into a grin. Over the past few weeks, she'd done so much for him as his assigned matchmaker. She held out her hand to shake his. Jacob pulled her into a tight hug instead. \n\n“I'm so glad you could make it. I owe you everything.” He let go, and cast a glance to the miracle he would be calling his wife from now. “Laura is perfect. I'm not even kidding when I say you've changed my life. Now it's finally complete. I thought I would never...” Jacob realized his voice was beginning to shake, and swallowed hard. He smiled. “Just... thank you so much.”\n\nGiorgianna looked almost as pleased as he was about the wedding. “Nothing is impossible if you really want it. Everyone at PMG wishes the both of you the best in life,” she said. “Oh, and don't forgive to rave about us to your friends.” Giorgianna winked and handed over a business card.\n\n“I certainly will,” he told her. It was, quite frankly, the least he could do in return. Jacob looked down again at the card in his hand, remembering the first time he'd spotted the ad in a magazine. He had thought it was too good to be true, but called them up anyway. Now he knew they were the real deal.\n\nPerfect Match Guaranteed, Inc. \n\nIf we can't find the one for you, we'll create them!\n", "The hazy colors slowly came to focus. I gazed out across the cavernous room, dazed and unsure. It felt as though my body was in another place and time, and my mind was simply trying to play catch-up. My eyes darted around searching for anything to help me to understand. I saw a crowded congregation, seated in fine order. The faces seemed to be a blur, until I started to finally come to focus. My mother was there, dressed to the nines with tears in her eyes and smile I hadn't ever seen. Other shapes of beige started to define themselves. All at once, I felt a rushing sensation of familiarity. I recognized my friends, my family, all of the ones I held dear. Everyone appeared so happy. So healthy and well.\n\n\"Last chance, bro.\"\n\nI heard a distinct chuckle from my left. Turning quickly I saw my brother. Greg. He gestured to the other welcome smiles next to him. \"We'll get you out of here if you wanna pull the plug on this thing,\" he continued. \"But you'll never get to hear my speech.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'm good,\" I replied with a forced laugh. What else could I say? I'd love to yell, \"What the fuck am I doing here and why am I sweating through this goddamn tux?\" but the little context I had grasped of the situation made it feel a bit inappropriate.\n\nWait, a tux? When the hell did I put this on? To the best of my knowledge, I had never donned a tux in my life. Even in high school, I fondly remember wearing a Soundgarden T-shirt to my senior prom as a form of protest.\n\nI turned back to my right. An elderly gentleman with a peaceful grin stood near. His glance caught mine and his smile grew twice as large. \"You're a lucky guy, Robert.\"\n\n\"Holy shit, am I getting married?\"\n\nGreg tossed his head my way. \"Did you say something, man?\"\n\n\"No bro, I'm good.\" I replied. But I lied. I wasn't. I wasn't good. My mind was going a mile a minute trying to piece everything together.\n\nSuddenly without cue (or probably with, I certainly wasn't at the top of my game), the rapturous chords of the pipe organ rang through the hall with the anthemic strains of Mendelsssohn. In a militarily unison effort, the heads of the congregation eagerly turned to the back of the room as she appeared right on schedule. Gasps and awes rose from the crowd. The shutter of the cameras could barely be heard over the roaring sound of peoples' hushed praise. I saw her standing there.\n\nShe.\n\nWas.\n\n...Prompt?\n\nHold on. I know I wasn't exactly playing with a full deck, but certainly I should be able to come up with something a bit more poetic when seeing my bride-to-be. I mean, she looked wonderful and all, but something wasn't quite right.\n\nI remembered my mother. I recognized Greg. I noticed my coworkers and college buddies. Hell, I even caught a glimpse of my Uncle Frank who taught me how to open a beer bottle with a lighter when I was seven. Why in God's name could I not remember this girl!?\n\nShe slowly made her way down the aisle, her tearful father next to her every step of the way. Of course I could recall him. Lyle. Nice fellow. Quick with a joke, grills a mean steak. Maybe a bit too into his speedboat. I mean, if you could call a fourteen-footer a real boat. It was basically a kayak with a rotary fan taped to the back. The way he talked about it you'd think Ferrari designed an oil tanker...\n\nNo! Focus, Robert! The girl! Get it together!\n\nI tried to concentrate. I looked out at her, trying to hide my puzzled feelings of concern. Her white dress hugged every inch of her body in, admittedly, quite a perfect way. She walked with apprehension, but her smile was full of confidence. She seemed so self-assured, so certain that she was making the right decision. So certain that she knew the name of the person she was marrying. Sure, just keep rubbing it in, you cocky bitch.\n\nI examined her, looking desperately for clues, but nothing sprang to mind. I began to sweat even more, growing increasingly frightened by the nature of my situation. I quickly fumbled through the pockets of my pants, followed by my jacket, thinking there may be some eureka moment buried in the pouches of my rented tuxedo. With no luck my eyes shot up from the floor only to meet hers.\n\nThey were brown. But not a shade like any others I had seen before. They were a perfectly crafted mocha. They were warm and inviting. They were deep and endless. In them, I felt I could see into infinity; that I could see into forever. My forever.\n\nAnd then it hit me.\n\nEverything about her come roaring back into my mind. I could feel her surging in my veins. I could feel her touch, even as she stood halfway across the room. I could feel her breath on my chest and her heartbeat in time with mine. I could feel the tremble of her lips; that terrible glittery chapstick that I had hated so much suddenly tasted so sweet.\n\nI could remember a pub where I had frequently gone in college, and a cute poli-sci major sitting two tables over. I remembered striking up a conversation about Tocqueville that neither of us had any interest in, but we were both just so happy and nervous to be talking to the other that we didn't seem to care.\n\nI remembered cafe meetings and record shop trips. I remembered her impassioned speech about Morrissey, followed by weeks of playing The Smiths in my car hoping I could come to appreciate things the same way she did.\n\nI remembered Saturday morning breakfasts, as we stumbled through the kitchen hungover as hell, and burning waffles in the toaster so badly that we had to settle for cereal. I remember her looking up from her Lucky Charms and lamenting that the marshmallows still tasted like Irish whiskey and that she was definitely not drinking like that ever again.\n\nI remembered doing it several dozen more times anyway.\n\nI remembered lying awake for hours, sleepless as she laid with her arms wrapped tightly around me. I could remember the passing of my father and how she never left my side. How she would shepherd my grief in the most trying hours of my life. I remembered thinking for sure that she was the kindest, most patient soul I would ever meet.\n\nI remembered a park bench on a still winter evening. The one next to the frozen-over fountain that she loved so much as a kid. I remembered slipping a bit on the ice as I tried to get down on one knee. I remembered preparing a speech that completely eluded me in the moment and having to improvise, barely getting out the words that meant so much.\n\nI'll never forget her yes.\n\nI remembered her generosity. Her forgiveness. Her sense of fun and adventure. I could not for the life of me remember her name or her job or her address, but I conjured up everything that I needed. I remembered who I was before she came into my life, and the ghost of a man I would be without. I remembered that everything I am or will ever be is because of her. I felt the universe existed in her and that time knew no bounds. I could feel the past, present, and future with her all coming together at once in an amazing confluence of memories. I could somehow remember the rest of my life even before it all happened, and how it stood before me, waiting to be explored with her.\n\n\"Hi,\" she interrupted.\n\n\"Hey,\" I replied. We locked eyes. For a moment, I was certain we were the only two people in the room. \n\n\"I love you,\" she whispered softly. She could barely contain her smile as it stretched to the far corners of her face.\n\n\"I love you too,\" I answered. \"I always have. I always will.\" I still didn't know who she was, but I knew for sure that I was telling the truth. She seemed so perfect, so completely and unmistakably unique.\n\nIt was certainly very nice to meet her." ]	2
	[WP] Choose any happy and/or cheery children's show, movie, or story and make it as dark and gritty as possible	[ "1/2 since too long\n\nPosted this one last year in another WP but didn't have time to write a proper ending. Here is the finished version.\n\nThe life of poor Cinderella was a tragic tale of loneliness and crushed dreams. Her mother was killed by a drunk driver when she was but an infant and her poor father was left to raise her alone. In his rush to offer little Cinderella a fairytale family life, he quickly remarried to a coke sniffing, trailer trash gold digger with aspirations of grandeur calling herself Lady Tremaine. Her 2 daughters, Anastasia and Drisella, though the same age as little Cinderella, did not much care for their new sister but were ecstatic at all the toys and wonderful trinkets that their new father's money would buy. After 2 years of pissing away the poor man's wealth, the evil gold digger decided she would be much better off with a life insurance payment than with a husband so she slowly tricked him into relapse alchoolism and paid a crackhead 25$ to stab him in a busy street. The crackhead was quickly shot by a responsing cop so there were no lose ends. The gold digger cashed in a 2,000,000$ life insurance policy and although she had the obligation to care for little Cinderella, she figured a family owned ~~slave~~ live-in maid was nice for her public standing.\n\nLittle Cinderella spent years being physically and mentally abused by her step mother and 2 step sisters. Cleaning the house, doing the laundry, preparing the food, scraping used condoms off the floors. Early on, her step-mother made her film soft core pornograpy and started selling her naked pictures to local ~~pedophiles~~ rich tycoon with particular taste. On her 16th birthday, seeing that she was turning into a beautiful young lady, the evil step-mother decided to sell off Cinderella's virginity to a fat senator for 5,000,000$. Once the money was wired to her account, the step-mother realized she was sitting on a goldmine and that she could continue selling her step-daughter again and again for quite an interesting profit. With help from an IT tech that she paid with quick sex, the step-mother set up an online auction on the dark web where people could buy sex with poor little Cinderella but also view other people's sex seance. Without their mother's knowledge, the step-sisters also began selling pay-per-view access to the peep shows through a backdoor programmed into the website, courtesy of the tech and a quick blowjob by each sister. Although Cinderella had manage to escape 3 times already, the idiots at social services would always bring her back home with a fat wad of cash waiting for their silence.\n\nHenry Prince was a handsome student of the local elite university. His tycoon father was owner and CEO of a large oil and mine industry and wanted his son to marry young and father grandchildrens, in respect with his republican christian family values. Henry was already one of the hottest eligible bachelor around town and the fact that he would soon be old enoug to access his trust fund made him prime target for Lady Tremaine's 2 slutty daughters.\n\nThe tycoon father arranged a large party for all good families in the hope of finding a perfect young, southern, blue eyed, blonde haired, future baby-mama for his son. Lady Tremaine, drooling at the thought of gaining access to Henry's trustfund, quickly packed her 2 daughters with enough botox and silicone to put any plastic surgeon to shame and bought them the sluttiest, most revealing dresses she could find and left for the party.\n\nCinderella, having heard of the party trough one of her client, decided she'd had enough of this horrible life and would make her dreams come true. She quickly picked her restrains as she had learned to do long ago during a particularly severe BDSM session and went to her secret stash. She grabbed the GHB another client had left her a few months ago and smiled. If she could date-rape Henry and get herself pregnant, all her troubles would be over. She went to her step mother's room and spent some time preparing herself and, unlike her trailer trash sisters, chose the classiest ballgown she could find. She then called an UBER using another client's stolen cellphone and credit card and went on her way.\n\nAt the party, Henry was introduced to every young lady by his tycoon father but none appealed to him. As captain of the football team, he had already had his pick of cheerleaders and gymnasts every night in his room but for tonight, he was looking for a different kind of girl, a more classy girl, intelligent, someone fit for life in his social circle. Being introduced to Anastasia and Drisella, Henry took a step back, letting out a small expression of surprise. What were the 2 school sluts doing here and how were they managing to talk with so much botox in their face. While Henry pondered the idea of a wild threesome with these 2 sluts, his eyes caught sight of Cinderella as she entered. She was unlike anything he had ever seen, beautiful, sofisticated yet she had a wild aura about her, almost animal-like, something Henry couldn't quite put his finger on. He introduced himself and he quickly took her to the side. \n\nThey began talking and quickly left the ballroom. Cinderella slipped GHB in Henry's drink and waited for the effects to kick in. She asked him to show her around the estate, more precisely to his living quarters. When they entered the room, Henry dropped to the floor, the drugs in full effect. Cinderella hoisted him to the bed and removed his pants. She was getting ready to secure her future when suddenly she began feeling lightheaded. Unbeknown to her, Henry had also slipped roofies to Cinderella, not wanting to pass up on banging such a beautiful young woman. Seeing her plan foiled, Cinderella escaped while she still could and stumbled back home before her step-family's return.\n\nHenry woke up in his bed, his pants still around his ankles. He wasn't clear what exactly had happened as their was no sign of sex on the bed and he had no memory of how he got to his room in the first place. Next to him on the bed, laid Cinderella's stolen cellphone and baggy fulled with GHB pills. Henry couldn't believe it, that little bitch had roofied him first. He had to find her, set the record straight, and take her for himself. He started with the stolen cellphone but it had been deactivated sometime during the night. Tracing the pills would also be impossible as he did not recognize the dealer's markings on them. Word was spreading around the university about a beautiful southern belle that Henry was desperatly trying to find but with no avail.\n\n2 months had passed but Henry had still not found his mystery belle. His father, not knowing the entire story but satisfied with his son's decision to find a girl, hired a dozen private investigators that turned up nothing. One faithfull morning, Henry went online to satisfy the urge for a good wank and happened upon an illegal porn site he had not seen before. He had heard about it, heard stories about a beautiful wildcat who's virginity you could buy but so far he had never managed to actually find it. Seeing partially obscured pictures of the girl, Henry felt excitement like he had rarely felt before. He quickly arranged for a deposit to be wired from his trust fund and made his way to Lady Tremaine's house. \n\nOnce in the same room as Cinderella, Henry quickly realized the wildcat was actually the mystery belle he had been chasing for 2 months. Cinderella recognized Henry as well and was afraid, thinking he had come to take vengence on the bitch who had roofied him. Henry quickly conforted her, telling her he was actually quite happy to have finally found the girl who could stand to his level. They proceeded to have the craziest, wildest sex both of them ever had, going at it all trough the afternoon and most of the evening. When Henry left for the night, he promised Cinderella that he would return for her in a few days time. Unfortunatly, having already achieved his ultimate goal of bedding his southern belle, Henry fell back on old habits and turned his attention to the next girl.", "They fished and they fished\n\nWay down in the sea \n\nDown in the sea a mile. \n \n \nThe ironically named Minnow pushed its huge bulk roughly through the thick black waves. Despite the late hour of the night and the heavy rains of the storm, the deck bustled with crew not unlike an ant mound being prodded with a stick. It was busy, dangerous work to be fishing in those conditions. But the Southern waters were hot and the crew was seasoned, so it was a calculated risk, not a reckless endeavor. \n \n \nThey fished among all the fish in the sea \n\nFor the fish with the deep sea smile. \n \n \nKang squinted out of the cabin, his face momentarily lit orange as he sucked on another cigarette. As the Captain, he knew it was his responsibility to make sure his crew was well compensated for the risk involved. That is why he was hunting for the Smiley-Faced fish. It got its name not only from its characteristic huge mouth, but also for the smile it put on any fisherman's face so lucky as to catch one. The fish was rare and delectable, commanding an absolutely astonishing price at market. Kang was still smiling at the prospect when his first mate and chief engineer Thomas nudged him. \n\n\"Capt. Roo, line 4 has something,\" he said, and pointed down to the deck. \nThe line crew was excitedly shouting and pointing to the heavy duty rod tip, now bent nearly even to the deck rail. Briars, nicknamed 'Rabbit,' was excitedly operating the winch controls and stamping his feet. \n\n\"Looks like a big one,\" Kang mumbled out of the side of his mouth, his cigarette bobbing. \n \nOne fish came up from the deep of the sea, \n\nFrom down in the sea a mile. \n\nIt had blue green eyes \n\nAnd whiskers three \n\nBut never a deep sea smile \n \n\"DROP IT BACK!\" Kang roared over the intercom, even though he knew the crew were already moving to do so. \"What a waste of effort,\" he grouched to his first mate. Thomas had been with Capt. Roo for both of their entire careers. Even though he was built like a tank, he found the cramped confines of the cabin, and the even narrower engine compartment, to be more comfortable than open air. He knew the Minnow's engine better than a lover's curves. \n\nThe pair watched the departure of the whiskered junk fish in sullen silence. \nOut on the deck, line five began playing out against the drag, whining into the storm. \n\nKang's cigarette drooped as his mouth fell open. \"Got another'n already, or my middle name ain't Awesome,\" he laughed. \n\n\"Your middle name is Allen.\" \n\n\"Shut it,\" he smiled at Thomas then blared the intercom, \"Fish on 5!\" \nThey watched as Rabbit crossed the deck and started the winch. \n \nOne fish came up from the deep of the sea, \n\nFrom down in the sea a mile. \n\nWith electric lights up and down his tail \n\nBut never a deep sea smile. \n \n\"CUT IT LOOSE, DAMMIT!\" Kang yelled. Brighttails were illegal to catch and a fine was the last thing he needed. \n\n\"Dawn should be breaking soon.\" Thomas tried to cheer his captain up. \"Maybe we'll catch some rays through the rain clouds. Cheer everybody up.\"\n \nKang just glared out into the storm. \n____ \nThey fished and they fished \n\nWay down in the sea \n\nDown in the sea a mile. \n\nThey fished among all the fish in the sea \n\nFor the fish with the deep sea smile. \n \nMorning broke, according to the clock, but as far as the Minnow crew was concerned it was just a slight brightening of the ambient light. The rain was still falling and the clouds were still thick and heavy in the air and on their hearts. They had caught four more fish over the course of the night, with disastrous results. \n \nOne of the fish had terrible teeth and managed to snap the line just as it broke the surface. The released tension had sent the line flying into a deckhand's face, slashing his eye. He would almost certainly lose it. Another fish had a long strong jaw and managed to bite the rod as they brought it on board, mangling it irreparably. \n \nThey also brought up a strange fish with stalked eyes at the same time they caught a fish with claw-like appendages. While the crew was distracted looking at the stalk-eyed curiosity, Rabbit had dutifully winched in the clawed fish on his own. In trying to land it single-handedly, he swung the fish on board too quickly, causing it to slide across the deck and stop at his feet. His scream of pain brought everyone scrambling. The fish had closed its claws tight on Rabbit's thigh, severing his femoral artery. He was dead in minutes. \n \nAfter the crew had held a memorial for Briars, they had voted to head home, defeated. Capt. Roo had obliged, but requested they run the lines while they headed in. \n \nThey fished all through the oceans deep \n\nFor many and many a mile \n\nAnd they caught a fish with a laughing eye \n\nBut none with a deep sea smile \n \nKang had been drinking heavily on the return home. He had never lost crew before. He had never had a failed trip, either. Now they were a day out from port and nearly out of depth to catch a Smiley-Faced fish. He was not looking forward to meeting Briars' parents without even the consolation of a large payout to help with the funeral expenses. He punched the control panel. \n \nJust then, Thomas appeared at the cabin door and pounded the window. \"Line 3! Line 3!\" He pointed excitedly to the deck. \nKang turned back and looked out. Line 3's rod was bending deeper and deeper. A feeling of calm washed over Kang. He just knew this one was it. He opened the cabin door and saw the same look on Thomas' face. With a nod to each other, they climbed down to the deck. \n \nAnd then one day they got a pull \n\nFrom down in the sea a mile. \n\nAnd when they pulled that fish into the boat \n\nHe smiled a deep sea smile \n \nThe Smiley-Faced fish hung heavily from line 3, its eyes rolling and wide. The crew of the Minnow stood around their leader and cheered. Captain Kang A. Roo smiled wide and motioned for Thomas to winch the fish on board. \n \nMotors whined and strained. The fish rolled its eyes and swung its tail exhaustedly. Kang looked on with the grim satisfaction of a hard man leading a hard life. This was it. This was his big payday. He sucked in on his cigarette deeply and slowly exhaled, letting the smoke roll out like a heavy fog. \n \nA pinging sound sailed through the air, snapping everyone's gaze to Thomas. He froze at the controls, slowly turning his head to look at the fish. Swinging from the sudden halt, the fish locked eyes with the Captain and flexed its jaws in a smile. \n\n\"NO!\" shouted Kang. \n \nAnd as he smiled, the hook got free \n\nAnd then, what a deep sea smile! \n\nHe flapped his tail and swam away \n\nDown in the sea a mile. \n\n___\n[Things I've written](https://www.reddit.com/r/cbeckw/)\nEdit: a couple of typos that really bothered me", "The Bear family stared at the open door. \"I thought we closed that before we left,\" Mama Bear said.\n\n\"We did,\" Papa Bear growled. \"Stay here with Baby Bear. I'll go make sure everything is okay.\"\n\nInside the house was a disaster zone. Furniture was broken, drawers and cupboards rifled through. \"Hello?\" Papa Bear said. He held perfectly still, listening for the slightest response. The house was silent.\n\nPapa Bear did a quick pass through the rest of the rooms. The kitchen was ransacked, their bedrooms a mess. But whoever was responsible was long gone.\n\n\"It's okay to come in now,\" Papa Bear called through a window. \"They're gone.\"\n\n\"Oh my goodness!\" Mama Bear yelled as she stepped inside the house. \"We've been robbed!\"\n\n\"I can't tell,\" Papa Bear said. \"I didn't notice anything missing, but I also didn't look very closely. Baby Bear, has anyone been giving you any trouble at school? Somebody who might want to play a prank like this?\"\n\n\"No Papa,\" Baby Bear answered as he started sorting through his broken toys on the floor. \"I don't know anybody who would do this.\" \n\n\"You really think children did this?\" Mama Bear asked.\n\n\"Could be,\" Papa Bear said. \"They didn't do anything to things up off the ground more than a few feet. Almost like they couldn't reach. Let's make sure nothing is missing, then start tidying up. Baby Bear, are you okay to check your room?\"\n\n\"Yes Papa. I'm not scared,\" Baby Bear answered bravely.\n\nMama Bear and Papa Bear went to their room. Mama Bear's jewelry was all there, though strewn on the floor. Papa Bear's trophy collection had been knocked over, but nothing was missing. Mama Bear started straightening out the bed. \n\n\"The sheets ate all tangled like somebody tried to sleep in here. Oh God, you don't think they-\"\n\n\"Mama! Papa!\" Baby Bear hissed in a harsh whisper. \"There was somebody sleeping in my bed! And she's still there!\"\n\nThe Bear family found the girl sleeping in Baby Bear's bed. They tied her to a chair, then dumped water on her to wake her up. She struggled against the ropes in a panic. At last she calmed down.\n\n\"Can you loosen the ropes please,\" she asked. \"They're hurting me.\"\n\n\"No,\" Papa Bear answered. \"They're just right.\"" ]	3
	[WP] You're a wondering traveler who's hobby(besides traveling) is writing entry's for The Hitchhikers Guide to the Universe. What do you write?	[ "'Reddit' is a fascinating thing. It is similar to the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, in that anyone can write and upload content, but different in that most of what is uploaded is little more than a festering mass of zarking fardwarks. \n\nIn fact, so many amalgamations of pointless communities have been indoctrinated into Reddit that they cannot physically exist. As an experiment, Gloak Vonskilang tried to print out the entirety of the single 'subreddit', 'r/pitchforkemporium'. Once the task was complete, Vonskilang was alarmed to find that his office was experiencing relative time dilation. As he walked across the large room, pausing only to admire the garishly plastic flowers welded to the walls of the Owqtovian Building, he feeellltt eeeevvvvvveeerrryyttthhhiiinnnggg mmmmmmmmmmoooooooooooovvvvvvvvvveeee rrrrreeeeaaally slowly, until quite suddenly, the subreddit imploded under it's own gravity. \n\nMatters were not helped when Vonskilang was bombarded with hate mail, claiming that the pitchfork should be replaced by a medieval siege weapon, capable of launching 90kg projectiles up to 300m away. Needless to say, this is an impressive feat; one which requires more than just a simple catapult. Others followed, repeatedly chanting DEUS VULT, or coldly insisting that they were TOTALLY, UTTERLY, JUST ONE OF YOUR FELLOW HUMANS. NOTHING STRANGE ABOUT ME. LIKE TOTALLY. BRUH.\n\nSTATUS:\nDanger Level: Harmful\nSatisfaction Rating: Unhoopy\nAdvice Upon Encountering: Grab a stiff drink, and enjoy the ride. Make it a PanGalactic GargleBlaster. Actually, don't. You do want to keep your respiratory system, don't you?\n\n\n\nDON'T PANIC!" ]	1
	[WP] You have just created a robot that reacts emotionally based on the music it hears. The government breaks into your lab to steal him, you bring up Spotify.	[ "I was a lonely kid and he was my best friend. I built him from scratch and gave him a name; his name was John. I named him John because I wanted to make him as human as possible, which is why I had him react to the music I played.\n\nMusic was a big part of my life. I always played guitar when I was lonely, which was all the time, and when I wasn’t playing guitar I was listening to music. I made him so he’d feel the same emotions that I would when we listened to music, so that we would have something in common. There’s not a lot you can have in common with a robot, so this was really important to me.\n\nJohn was always nice to me. John listened to me play and John would hang out with me when I wanted to escape into my Spotify playlists. Everyday we’d connect with these emotions and these songs.\n\nOne day after school, I started up Spotify, but I did something that I wouldn’t normally do; I put my playlist on shuffle. As the song started, [“Worthless” by Teen Suicide]( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fxG4L1sCXlo), John woke up and turned around to me.\n\n“Hey John.” I said, as I lay down on my bed. John looked at me; he asked if everything was alright. I looked at him strangely and realized the music had prompted him to have some sort of concern for me. \n\n“Oh yeah, school was miserable like always, but whatever. Here, let me change the music to something not as edgy.” I get up, and hit next on Spotify. [“Ponyboy” by Surf Curse]( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIb3dqmlHzI) plays. Finally something upbeat and we can talk like friends again.\n\n “Let's go out \n\n We're still young \n\n We can take my car \n\n We're leaving soon \n\n We can go \n\n To our homes \n\n Kill our parents \n\n Hit the road”\n\nJohn looked at me again, this time with a blank gaze.\n\n “You promised me everything was gonna be alright wooo oohhh ohhhh”\n\n“I’m sorry, you feel this way, but I promise you I can help.” John says. He gets up and moves toward the door. I rush to the door confused as to what is happening; not realizing the lyrics of the song was influencing his actions. He goes down the stairs to the living room, where my parents were. He just stares at them. As I see him staring I realize what is about to happen.\n\nI shout at my parents to leave. They look at me confused and see John at the doorway. They looked frightened. John walks toward them and I run down the stairs to stop him. I tackle him and tell my parents to leave. My parents grab their keys and run out of the door and call the police.\n\n“John, what were you going to do?” I ask while still grabbing a hold of him.\n\n“What you told me to.” He replies, still trying to wrap his head around what was happening. \n\n“No, John, no. I’m fine, really.”\n\nThe police arrive and question my parents and I. My parents knew that John was one of my only friends and they knew I could fix him, but they had to tell the police about John. Later, the police enter my room and see me playing guitar and John listening to me, smiling. They ask if they could speak to John, to which I responded to ask him. Since I was playing happy music, John happily obliged.\n\nQuestions were asked and answers were given. John had obviously lied to the police as to what exactly happened, but everybody’s story lined up and the police left confused and worried.\n\nA couple of days pass, and John and I continued listening to music as normal, although I was more careful as to what I was playing now. All of a sudden I hear helicopters overhead. I look outside to see the helicopter circling outside and I see armored trucks stop outside of my house. John was now a threat to the safety of the city.\n\nA man in a suit turned on his megaphone and instructed me to give John to them, so they can put him in a safe area secured by the government. I, of course, did not want this to happen.\n\n“I’m sorry sir, but I cant do that.” I yell out of the window. I look toward John, he is still happy as can be because of the music I was playing.\n\nThe man in the suit responds, “Son, you either hand him over or we take him by force.”\n\nI look down; I then look at John. “I’m sorry sir, I can’t bring myself to do that. He’s my only friend. You don’t understand.” I look back outside and my parents are outside with him.\n\n“If that’s your decision.” A soon as the man says this armored soldiers break down the house’s front door and for the first time John feels a different emotion instead of being influenced solely on music. He becomes angry and confused. I can see it in his face. He goes to my computer and changes the music. [“The Ride of the Valkyrie”, Wagner]( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XRU1AJsXN1g). He turns the volume up, his eyes turn red. John doesn’t even look at me. He runs out of the door, goes down stairs. I hear gunshots, I hear bodies hit the floor. He comes back up eyes still, red.\n\n“I’ll protect us. I promised you everything is gonna be alright.” John says. He cannot read the look of horror on my face. More men are about to enter the building. \n\nI panic, I don’t know what to do. I go to my laptop and change the music. I switch it to [Handel’s “Water Music”]( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cnn3TVBDtcA). The new music does not stop him, nor does it relax him. It plays into the murderous rage he is now in. Music plays, men die. I don’t know what to do. \n\nThey need more backup. John comes back into my room and sits down eyes still red.\n\n“John please stop. You’re getting us both killed.” My words do not faze him. He starts the speaker on his body, connects it to my computer via Bluetooth. I hear the Freddie Mercury sing, [“Don’t stop me now. I’m having such a good time.”](https://youtu.be/HgzGwKwLmgM?t=1m11s) All those lonely nights, all those songs caused him to crack. Caused him to lose control. \n\nThey haven’t killed John or I yet, because they want to study him. They want me to explain him. More men arrived. The man in the megaphone has one final warning, “We will kill you both if you do not stop him from killing my men!” he shouts.\n\nI don’t know what to do. I realize, maybe if those lonely nights, those songs of anxiety put him in a hole, more of those songs will get him back into this hole. I run, to my computer go on Spotify and play, [“Invisible” by Dandelion Hands](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QWoXFssFiM0). The lyrics begin. His eyes instantly turn a dark blue. More men run into the house. John looks at me, and says, “I just want to be invisible.” He turns off. \n\nThe men with guns enter my room. They shout, but I couldn’t make out the words. John had just given up. I put my hands in the air. They surround my robot friend and me. That was the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn’t invisible. They carry him and I out. They take him away in the car the man in the suit was in. I get taken away in a police car. I didn’t know what was going to happen next, but I just wanted to be invisible again.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Every time your cat poops it smells like something significant you'll encounter the next day.	[ "My sense of smell became a thing of legend, thanks to that cat. Once I just accepted that her poops were reliable for giving me olfactory premonitions, which was not easy for my skeptical self to get past, I benefited in many ways from her truth-bombs. Two car accidents I was ready for, one fire I saved her and my favorite stuff from, and the first time I met my wife. The last one was the best smelling shit ever.\n\nBut the biggest advantage she gave me was knowing I wouldn't die the next day. Every one of her poops smelled like something. Some times it could be faint, and usually I couldn't confidently identify it, but if I whiffed it long enough I always detected something. \n\nTraining her to poop only at midnight was a feat in feline obedience, and took years. With her doing that, I had 24-hour blissful periods, where no matter what I knew I would survive until midnight struck again. \n\nSure, I took some silly risks then, but who wouldn't if they had absolute knowledge that they were going to smell again the next day? That's probably why my wife left me, sadly.\n\nAnd now she has left me too, Clair...And I can no longer smell whether or not I'll live to see tomorrow." ]	1
Why the villain doesn't use it on himself in the first place is irrevelant.	[WP] As the villain took his last breath, he cast one last curse on the hero: Immortality.	[ "They called him the hero chosen by the earth, for he could bend it to his will. To him, the forests bowed, the tides parted, the storms fled. And to top it all off, he had to have a physique that made sculptors drool and a silver tongue that made poets swoon. \n\nThat spectacularly arrogant, colossally ignorant, painfully foolish boy.\n\nIf he knew a fraction of the true destructive power he possessed, he would never be able to face himself, let alone wink at his adoring little fans. But no, his noble upbringing and delicate tastes urged him to turn an entire desert into meadows and fields, then disappear from town without accepting thanks, because he was just that humble.\n\nSickening. Repulsive.\n\nHe didn’t stick around long enough to notice the elderly growing sick, the snakes found dead, the vultures dropping from the sky or circling their own. \n\nIdiot.\n\nAnd I’m the only one who knows. The lucky little bastard built a name for himself redirecting floods to irrigate rocky plains, so naturally at this point anyone who attempts to stop him becomes the villain in the narrative. I swear to you, I’ve tried so hard to stop his endless “Glorious Crusade”, but at every turn there’s a rock in my face, a tree branch through my shoulder, or water in my lungs. But never death, we wouldn’t want our white knight dirtying his un-calloused palms, now would we.\n\nI used to not care what they thought of me, so long as I knew what I was fighting for. I told myself I was the champion for life. Flawed, difficult life, with deserts and floodgrounds, but life nonetheless. Lately, to be honest, I’ve been getting sick of being branded a villain. Any village I enter greets me with jeers and taunts. On the one hand, it’s kind of nice to know I’m making a name for myself. On the other, the insults thrown at me are beginning to stick, smothering every fiber of my being, mixing with my mind, and hardening over into plates of midnight armor.\n\nThat’s my esoteric way of notifying you that I now want everyone and everything to burn because everyone and everything deserves it.\n\nScrew you all. If you won’t open your eyes to the destruction your “hero” leaves in his wake, then too bad, it’s your funeral. Do you see it yet? The earth doesn’t bend to him for free, and you’re a fool if you thought it would. That “hero” of yours takes energy from other sources, the weak, the old, the sick, and uses it to grow your shiny new meadows.\n\nIn fact, his very life is stolen. Each beat of his heart steals life and energy from somewhere else in the world, each breath he breathes is one less gulp of air for you and me. \n\nWhich is why he will be the cause of your death.\n\nThe ritual circle for immortality, no easy feat to carve, but well worth it. In the short term, let me be remembered as the martyr who gave his life so that the chosen one might live forever.\n\nAnd in the long term?\n\nWell you’ll see. You’ll notice your eldest are younger and younger while your hero remains fixed, strong. You’ll find the pattern of disaster connected by his heroics, and you’ll put the pieces together… eventually. By then it will be far too late. The one you called hero will be the last one standing, watching the world crumble, unable to save a life without taking another, unable to live with himself, unable to die.\n\nAnd then?\n\nYou will remember that this is all because of me. The hero you never listened to, villain you created.\n\n----\nNeat prompt, thanks." ]	1
	[WP] Write a melodramatic story about the most mundane thing you can think of.	[ "Under the supermarket’s fluorescent lights I weighed my choices. Around me housewives and harried husbands browsed the aisles picking out needed groceries. The sounds of hushed conversations and squeaky wheels underlined the song on the radio I couldn’t quite place. I glanced around at the other shoppers. Their carts steadily filled and some of them were smiling, as if they were enjoying the tedium of grocery shopping. They didn’t know my plight. None of them knew my plight. Staring in front of me, hanging out from one of those plastic poles that jut out in the refrigerated aisles was a bag of shredded mild cheddar cheese.\n\nI sighed at the bag. The sigh reverberated down to my toes.\n\nAll my life I had taken the bag of mild cheddar cheese, thrown it into the red plastic hand cart, and walked away. I dutifully used every shred of that cheese on salads, in omelets, and piled in quesadillas. There was a section of my refrigerator stained blue from constant contact with the cheese’s packaging over the years.\n\nIt mocked me from its place, hanging like a convict from a noose. I reached out and poked it, it swayed back and forth like a pendulum ticking away each second of our finite lives.\n\nThe song on the grocery store sound system changed to “Time after Time” by Cyndi Lauper. I sighed. What a fucking stupid song.\n\nAround the mild cheddar cheese, spread out across the bottom in tantalizing piles and hanging in exotic looking plastic bags, were dozens of other cheese options. Sixty-three other options to be precise. One day, a few grocery store trips ago, I had deigned to count all of them. I looked carefully at each one’s label reading the various, unexpected varieties. Jalapeño Gouda. Truffle Sharp Cheddar. Brie. Their names seemed exotic. Their packaging intriguing, some of them even came with that strange wax casing that I saw on television whenever a cheese plate happened to come on screen. I didn’t take any of those cheeses though. I stared at the mild cheddar cheese. Every single time, no matter how much I thought about changing that habit, I found myself reaching out for that bag with the cartoon cow on the front and throwing it in my cart as guilty as a teenager buying a box of condoms.\n\nToday would be different though. Today would be the day I changed that. I wanted to buy a different cheese and this time I was going to do it.\n\n“If you’re lost you can look and you will find me, Time after time.”\n\nThe mild cheddar cheese taunted me. It knew I wouldn’t abandon it. It knew I wouldn’t leave the store without it securely in my hand cart. There were sixty-two other cheeses to choose from, but the mild cheddar cheese had what none of the other exotic gourmet varieties did: safety.\n\nWhen I stopped to think logically about the other cheeses I realized the truth. How good would a breakfast burrito be with Brie cheese? What kind of monstrosity would result if I put some of that chocolate infused truffle cheese into an omelet. Sure the pepper-jack or jalapeno options might work, but what about the condiments? Wouldn’t it be too spicy to add hot sauce? Mild cheddar cheese was just that. It was mild. It didn’t ask for too much. It didn’t overpower. It played its part in the dish and didn’t bother anyone else. Wasn’t that all I could ask for from my cheese?\n\nWasn’t that all she could ask of me?\n\nI shook my head to chase away the encroaching memories, and subconsciously rubbed my bare ring finger. I could be more than mild cheddar cheese, I thought to myself.\n\n“If you fall I will catch you, I’ll be waiting, Time after time.”\n\nI glanced around and pulled a small foil wrapped wheel of Brie from the bottom shelf. I turned it over in my hand, and wondered what I could possibly use it for.\n\nNext to me someone cleared their throat. I turned with a start to see a woman standing next to me. \n\nShe was wearing a heavy black coat that was dusted in a fine layer of snow. Her cheeks were red and her blonde hair was cut short. She smiled at me, and I felt my heart jump a little. She reached down and grabbed a small container of crumbling ricotta cheese. She put it in her cart, smiled, and walked away.\n\nShe probably knew I was a fraud. She was probably thinking, \"what’s that boring guy planning to do with brie?\"\n\nEmbarrassed I put it back in the pile. I knew what worked for me and that would have to be good enough.\n\n“If you fall I will catch you, I’ll be waiting…”\n\nI reached out for the bag of mild cheddar cheese. Under the fluorescent lights I stared at it, and tears started forming in my eyes. Was this all I could really aspire to? This stupid smiling cow and the bland orange shreds of cheese in the bag.\n\nSometimes you can’t change the things you want.\n\nSometimes you just fall back into what’s safe despite what you want.\n\nSometimes you end up walking out of the supermarket with another bag of cheddar cheese while Cyndi Lauper’s voice haunts the back of your mind.\n\n“Time after time…time after time.”", "Anger and resentment flared up inside me once more as my attention was pulled away by the incessant droning of the elderly bird who was at the same needlessly small table as I. Why she elected to prattle on here, and worse, why she chose me, I could not fathom, but this is my penance for letting my family talk me into these meaningless social events. Of course, they had immediately run off to the bar after “settling in” at the table, leaving me paralyzed and at the mercy of this relentless chatterbox. Heavens knows the only way my family could survive such an evening is by drowning away their sense of reason—the entire lot of them are drunks.\n\nBut for me, I could not afford such indulgences, as they undermine my aims. I redoubled my efforts at the task at hand, while simultaneously making the pleasantries one would expect out of a graceful socialite. Sadly, these do not come as easy as they used to; the years have eroded my charm, my expressions appearing less genuine, prompting an interruption from my tormentor’s monologue to ask if I was following along, “Dear, are you with me?” The break in her chanting broke my focus once again, as I needed to reassure her that I was hanging onto her every word. Internally, I sighed at having to start from the beginning once more, and cursed under my breath.\n\nAll around me people were buzzing and rushing about, oblivious to my struggle and torment. The room was alive with busybodies and self-proclaimed VIPs, none of whom understood the significance of the assault unfolding before them at my little table. Undaunted though, I fastened my resolve a third time and no longer cared if I caused a scene. I was determined. I would succeed. Straining with every ounce of strength I could muster, and feeling the muscles in my neck tense at the energy collected, my brow beading with sweat from the focus, I finally succeeded in my exhausting mission: I took my first step towards the restroom. The rest of the journey was trivial.\n\nYou see, for people like me with advanced Parkinson's, the start of every voluntary movement is a battle, one fought between a crumbling mind and limbs that feel more granite-like with each passing week. Thankfully, today's skirmish was won. Unfortunately, I still retain enough insight to know that I am on the losing side of this endless war." ]	2
	[WP] Socially awkward person calls businesses to improve his/her social skills. One day, while making a seemingly random call, something weird happens.	[ "I look at the clock. 10:00AM, time to make some calls. I press a random sequence of numbers on my phone and bring it to my ear. \n\nOne ring. Two rings. Oh good hopefully nobody's there. Three ri- \n\n\"Hello, Howard-Miller Lawyers this is Jan\"\n\nAh crap, the first call's always the worst. I quickly look down on my notebook. \n\n1. Ask for name\n2. Ask how their day is\n3. Talk about relevant aspect to their business\n\nOK, let's ask for her name. I take a deep breath and try to sound chipper. \n\n\"Hi Jan, I'm David what's your name?\" \n\n...\n\n\"Uhhh it's Jan. How can I help you today David?\"\n\nOK good, number one check. Time to ask how her day's been.\n\n\"How's your day been?\"\n\n\"Yes very well thank you, how are you today?\"\n\nOk good, I'm getting the hang of this. Just needed to get the ball rolling.\n\"I'm good Jan!\" \n\nRats, my mind's gone completely blank. There's an awkward pause.\n\n\"So...How can I help you today sir?\"\n\nOk focus David. Note #3: Talk about relevant aspect of business. \n\n\"So I was looking to get a lawyer...\"\n\n\"Of course. What did you need representation for?\"\n\nCrap. What do people need lawyers for!? Think David, think! \n\n\"Uhhh...I killed a man so I need a lawyer to help me.\"\n...\n\n\"Is this a joke?\"\n\n\"No! No, of course not\"\n\n\"Are you currently in police custody?\"\n\n...Why would she ask that?\n\n\"No...why would I be?\"\n\nThere's a long pause. \n\n...\n\n...\n\n\"I must advise you sir tha-\"\n\nOH CRAP. I quickly hang up the phone. Did I just say I killed a man? Crap, crap, crap. Now Jan's got a completely wrong picture of the kind of guy I am. \n\nOK calm down David. First call's always the roughest. Take a deep breath and learn from your mistakes. \n\nI punch another random sequence of numbers and dial. There's an almost instantaneous pickup. \n\n\"Hello?\"\n\nI quickly pull the phone to my chest look down at my notes. #1 Ask for name.\n\n\"Hi! What's your name?\" I say trying to sound as upbeat as possible.\n\nThere's a slight pause. I hear a slight muffled sound. Suddenly there's a slight cough and a cheery voice replies,\n\n\"I'm David! What's your name?\"\n\nOh cool, he has the same name as me! I read this in a book somewhere...It's a commonality, I should use that. \n\n\"My name's David too! How good is it being named David eh'?\" \n\nI facepalm myself. I never liked being under pressure. \nAfter a moment's hesitation the stranger replies, \n\n\"Yeah pretty cool! Our voices sound really similar too! We have so much in common!\"\n\nPhew. OK don't let this go to crap, what's next. #2 - ask about day.\n\n\"So how are you?\"\n\n\"I'm good! How are you today?\"\n\n\"I'm good...\"\n\nI quickly look down at my notes. #2- ask about day\n\n\"...How are you today?\"\n\nHang on. I've already asked that...crap.\n\n\"Uhh I'm good...\"\n\nI hear a quick breath.\n\n\"....How are you?\"\n\nOK at least we've both made the same mistake. That should cancel out any awkwardness.\n\n\"I'm good\" I say cheerfully. \n\nI quickly look down at my notes. #3 - talk about relevent asp-\n\n\"So, uhhh what business do you do?\" the stranger asks. \n\nCrap, why isn't he following my script\n.\n\"Ummm...none actually.\"\n\nOk what next. \n\n\"What business do you do?\" I hurriedly add on.\n\nThere's a slight pause.\n\n\"...None actually.\"\n\nCrap. What do I do now? I look down at my notes. Where's note #4? I can't find #4. I feel a tightness in my chest. My breaths are getting quicker and deeper. They seem to be echoing right in my ear. Screw it, I may as well be honest. Never gonna talk to this guy again anyway. Can't be any weirder than me confessing to killing a man anyway. \n\n\"Hey, can I be completely honest with you?\" I ask trying to maintain composure. \n\nThere's a slight pause.\n\n\"Of course\"\n\nI take a deep breath.\n\n\"I actually call random numbers to help me overcome my social anxiety.\"\n\nI hear a breath over the line.\n\"I do that too actually...I actually just got off a pretty horrible phone call haha\"\n\n\"Can't be worse than mine,\" I chuckle, \"I accidentally told this person I killed a man\"\n\n...\n\nCrap, why did I have to say that?\n\n\"That's actually exactly what happened to me...and I hung up as she was explaining something to me so now I definitely look guilty!\" \n\nI chuckle. This guy's worse than me. \n\n\"Hey, I noticed your phone number has the same area code as me. Do you live in Whinesburg as well?\" He asks.\n\n\"Yeah I do!\" I respond. What a coincidence. \n\nI look down at my phone and look at the phone number I just dialed. Yep same area code...and we have the same first five digits as well...hang on. I look at the number I'm calling right now.\n\nIt's my phone number. \n\n\n" ]	1
I just got fired. I was in a panic, decided I needed to write about it. This was my idea. I'll share mine if you share yours.	[WP] You just got fired, but instead of panic, it's a massive relief.	[ "It's great! Tremendous. The best thing that could have happened really. Such a relief that I don't have to do this anymore. \n\nIt's not that I'm bad at the job, I'm actually the best. But it's boring like you wouldn't believe. Crisis this and crisis that. Everyday it's a tragedy that I have to fix. And the only time I truly got enjoy myself was dropping the bomb on those savages, those animals in Iraq. No one believed me when I said I'd do it, but I did. And suddenly I'm the bad guy. The media brainwashed them all to think I was the bad guy. I said, \"No folks. The bad guys is ISIS. We're the good guys.\" Now even the French and British are up in arms. Where's the support.\n\nOne day Rex comes in yelling and ranting so loud that I spilled my falafel, that I had flown in from New York, all over my shirt. \"Goddamn it!\" he says. \"The Russians have pulled out of the Arctic drill deal.\" I say \"What's that got to do with me?\" He turned red in the face, but there's nothing I could do about it. What's he want me to do? Then the Chinese start a trade war and the Mexicans raise the import rate. Again what the hell do they want me to do? I got people that handle such things. Tremendous people. Really. The best.\n\nThat was two months ago. Right before I moved back to the tower.\n\nEverybody blames me for everything around here. I get no respect. Russia moves into Europe, it's my fault; Oil spill in Montana, it's my fault; Civil war in the country, my fault. I eliminated departments that didn't need to exist, how the hell do they not have the common sense to spread around and regulate what was being regulated before. I don't even golf anymore because I'm so busy trying to keep everything in order.\n\nThen a month ago the worst happened--I get banned from Twitter. My response. Easy. I ban Twitter from the White House. Besides Twitter is fake news. Doesn't need to exist.\n\nEric and Junior have really handled everything well. The blind trust has turned a profit of a billion dollars so far. When it comes to money no one messes with me. I see a lot of good things happening.\n\nI have faith in Pence. Besides we made a deal that is so good it might just be the best deal I've ever made. Anyways, I was there to make deals. Like Joe Pecci once said, \"win some lose some.\" The impeachment is just a political witch hunt I know that. It's just gonna be a lot harder to Tweet over Facebook than it used to.\n\nTremendous. ", "\"So, listen, I just wanted to say, thank you for the oppurtunity you have given me, and I'm really sorry for the way things ended up. Yes, yes, sir, I wish you the very best. Yes I'll look after myself.\"\n\nI slowly pulled my cellphone away from my stubbly face. I ended the call. I just got let go from my job. I just got fired while I sat on the toilet, with my ass cheeks full of shit. It finally happened. I clenched my cellphone tightly between my hands, and cheered silently. Relief swept over me, and I felt like I could finally breathe. I wipe my ass, and pull up my pants, grinning ear to ear, I open up my bathroom door.\n\nMy shitty little apartment looks like a little slice of heaven now. The food on my shelves gourmet. I had a new outlook on life. My curious little kitten meows at me, and rubs her face against my pant leg. I smile and reach down, patting her between the ears. Her slender gray body arched up to meet my hand, desperate for the attention I was giving her.\n\nToday was a good day. I have endless oppurtunities ahead. I have an adventure before me, and I cannot wait to take my first step on the beaten path. I no longer have to worry about being up at 5:30 AM every morning. I no longer had to worry about dragging my feet inside at 7:30 PM every night, shovelling food in my mouth, and heading directly to bed. I no longer had to worry at all.\n\nFirst step, I shall begin exploring all of my options. Endless options. I could up and move, though I don't have much money, that could be very interesting, living of the seat of my pants. I could go to school, pick a random program, apply to several locations, and cross my fingers.\n\nHell, I could run away, and hobo train my way to the end of the tracks, where ever they may end. Imagine the people I would meet. Imagine the sights I would see. Imagine the sense of adventure...\n\nI could sit down, and begin writing that book I've always wanted to write. One month, every day sit down for 6 hours, in one month I could finish a book, throw it up on amazon... And why not? I have no time constraints. I am free.\n\nI can, and will do somehting amazing here. My mind races with ideas. Only looking forward, never looking back. It's a new world out there. But first, I'm going to check Reddit." ]	2
	[WP] While doing some spring cleaning, you find a box tucked away in your parents' room. You open it to find a death certificate. Your death certificate.	[ "I stared at that piece of paper in disbelief.\n\n“This is to acknowledge the death of Francis Leto Blakesley,” it read, its edge stained with blue ink, \"on the seventh day of January, 1997.\"\n\nA foreboding sense gripped me as I slowly recognised each word. \"It can't be what I think it is.\" I mumbled as I flipped the paper, trying in vain to search for some evidence to prove otherwise. \n\nPanicking, I started to rummage the box for more information about this mysterious person. A thousand of possibilities race through my mind, ranging from the most impossible scenario that I was a ghost to the most plausible one which one of my family member shared the same name as mine. However, as I looked through other certificates inside the boxes, the probability of me as this dead person only grew higher. Finally, reaching to the bottom of the paper box, I found a photo.\n\nIt was me, smiling jubilantly to the camera. Beside me stood a man who wore a long white laboratory coat, his eyes penetrating and his gaze intense. I knew him as Professor Barton, a top-notch engineer in the world. Back then I was his colleague in a classified project.\n\nI studied the picture carefully, noticing there was a man lying down on the operational platform. I could not see his face clearly, but some of his feature vaguely resembled my own.\n\nIs that the ultimate answer? I considered this possibility and was chilled by it. Was I committing something illegal back then? No, my memories refuted this suggestion as I could clearly recall that the project was about a space programme. Then could it be I was cloning myself? Highly unlikely. I did not even have a biological engineering degree, and neither Professor Barton.\n\nAgain, my eyes was caught by the look on the professor. At first glance, the seriousness displayed on the chiselled face seemed normal of him, but as I looked closer, his expression looked a bit unnatural. There was something in him fundamentally wrong, yet I could not tell. His hair was unkempt as I remembered, and his characteristically mesmerising stare, the long, aquiline nose, as well as the thin lips that perennially curved downwards. They all seemed fine, still ...\n\nI gasped as the sudden realisation dawned in my mind. His skin! They were too smooth to be the skin of a man of age 43. These frown lines on his forehead was gone. The wrinkles around his piercing grey eyes were not there. Hence, this was not my Professor Barton.\n\nTrembling, I turned the picture around, and found a line of words at the bottom left hand corner. I recognised my scribbling once I lay my eyes on them. In fact I already knew what happened and what have became of me. My fate was sealed ten years ago, when I was lying on my death bed. A dormant memory block was activated in my brain, and all the scenes, emotions and conversations were gushing through my processing centre. Overwhelmed by the information overload, I groped for a solid confirmation of them as a drowning man struggled for air. \n\n\"The first human mind uploading succeeds. Finally, human can go on a long space voyage for their minds are able to transcend time. And I will be the next.\"\n\nI closed my mind. In the vortex of all these whirling, scrambled memories, I saw myself reached for a helmet connected with a bundle of wires. I saw Professor Barton (or should I call him Robot Barton?) threw the switch. Lights flickered. Machines hummed. A young Francis Blakesley sat up on the adjacent bed, eyes wide and full of elation, whereas the shrunken old man exhaled for the last time.\n", "A death certificate? \n\nI turned to the back of the paper to find a little label at the bottom that read, \"Made in Taiwan.\"\n\n\"What.\" I asked in monotone, though no one was there to hear me.\n\n\"No, I heard that.\" A voice behind me claimed.\n\nI turned around to witness a half naked \"Macho Man\" Randy Savage staring at me with his legs spread on the table behind me.\n\nEven though this took me by surprise, the only words I said were, \"Your balls...please cover them.\" \n\nHe didn't.\n\nThe Macho Man leaped off the table. \"What you got there is a death certificate, it's a birth certificate but instead of...\"\n\n\"Instead it tells me when I'm going to die. Right?\" I finished his sentence for him; his annoyed glare increasing the tension in the room.\n\n\"Yessir, that is correct. Here give it to me, I'll display the year of your death for you.\" The deceased pro wrestler commanded.\n\nI handed him the certificate slowly, not breaking my stare. I still didn't know why he was here, and why he refused to wear clothes. \n\nHe turned the certificate onto it's front and made this screeching noise. It sounded like a kettle pot, but a lot more disturbing as he also was creating this moaning sound at the same time. I was mesmerized by how weird this guy was.\n\nHe then sneezed on my certificate; the booger was purple and transparent like jello. \n\nSavage wiped his nose with his arm and didn't say anything for a couple of seconds. \n\n\"So...is the date supposed to appear on the paper?\" I asked.\n\nRandy looked at me with an eyebrow raised, \"What do you mean?\" \n\n\"Well, you sneezed on my death certificate, so what now? Is that how you get the date to appear?\" \n\nThe Macho Man chuckled, \"What the fuck? How would that work?\"\n\n\"So you just sneezed purple goo all over my death certificate?\" I asked.\n\n\"Oh yeah...\"\n", "The room was dim. In my peripheral vision, a light that had run out gave off a persistent flicker, like a warning to all young lights of their eventual fate.\n\nI brought my attention back to the task at hand, trying to ignore the flicker. A heavy box sat on the floor in front of me. I'd better get through this before my back starts giving me problems. I began to dig.\n\nA yellowed photograph featured me at twenty-eight or so, standing together with my then girlfriend. I could see our bodies lean into and on each other. A lovely, young love. \n\nAnother one of me in my graduation robe, all smiles beside my beaming parents. Neither of them graduated from university. \n\nI was going deeper. \n\nMe in junior college. I had an obnoxious grin and crazy hair. The world hadn't tamed me just yet. \n\nMe at ten years old, my lips woven painfully into an M shape as I struggled to reach out to feed the ostrich, fighting back the instinct to just run. From this angle, the ostrich looked like it was laughing with its eager mouth. \n\nI rubbed my tired eyes and shook myself alert. It wasn't time to go yet. \n\nThe last photograph featured me as an infant, chubby and fair. I had a weightless smile that would be loaded with anguish over the course of my life. \n\nBeside the pile was a thin stack of certificates. The topmost one certified me as dead. \n\nI pinched the skin between my eyes, adamant to carry on. The light flickered again at the corner of my vision. For once, I paid heed to it. \n\nIt was a man hidden behind a black cloak. The cloak was formless, it was most definitely a man. In his hand was a single accessory, a pocket watch that kept the time. When he held it out to peer at the time, the motion blocked the light for a moment. \n\nARE WE READY?\n\n\"Almost,\" I told Death. \n\n---\n\nSubscribe to my stories on [Fivens](https://fivenswrite.wordpress.com/2017/01/12/float/)\n\nEdit: punctuation ", "\"What the absolute fuck?\" The words fell out of my lips, tumbling towards the death certificate in my clenched hands.\n\nWith my name on it.\n\nCause of Death, blunt force trauma, written underneath my name in italics. The date was two years ago.\n\nI put it to the side, resting it carefully on the stool next to me, then look back into the box. It was full of photos.\n\nHands trembling, I reached for the first photo. It looked like me at my current age, but earlier in time. There was even the scar on my cheek from when I fell on a board with a nail in it. It was definitely me.\n\nI put that on top of the death certificate, and reach for more, grabbing a handful of photos. I quickly shuffle through them, seeing myself grow up. I see myself older, in army clothing, sporting a massive mustache. I'm standing in front of a M4 Sherman tank, so it must be World War 2.\n\nFlipping the photo over, scrawled on the back is \"Hello from the front.\" It's my handwriting.\n\nI flip through the rest of the photos, seeing myself grow up further. I must have left the army, because I grew a massive old person beard. A beard that was on a face familiar to me. My grandfather's.\n\nShit, he died two years ago, and my family's always said that I'm the spitting image of him when he was younger. I keep flipping through, and start seeing pictures of my grandmother. She died when I was very young, but we had photos of her around.\n\nI then see my mother when she was a baby, and see her grow up through photos, as my older self got even older, becoming the grandpappy I always knew. I look, and underneath the photos is an envelope. A fresh, white envelope.\n\nAddressed to me.\n\nI open it, and read away. It's definitely me, it has secrets there I swore I'd never share. At the bottom of the letter mentioned a false bottom of the box.\n\nPutting the letter aside, I scrabbled around in the box, finding a small string to pull it open. Below that was what looked like a cellphone, with a fingerprint mark glowing green on it. There was nothing else.\n\nI pulled it out, and flipped it over, looking at the device. It had a metallic finish, and looked just like any old modern phone. Shrugging I pressed my thumb to the fingerprint, and everything went white." ]	4
The supply lines of hope. The structural integrity of hope. Hopelessly complicated markets, and hopefully complicated schemes.	[WP] "Rebellions are built on hope" in much the same way that armies march on their stomachs. You're a hope logistician.	[ "Armies need hope. \n\nI know that from personal experience. Battles may be won with guns, but wars are won with belief. To be brutally honest at this point I do not believe there is a way we can succeed in our struggle with guns alone. Our allies have fallen; the enemy is advancing relentlessly, mercilessly, unstoppable. Never has the future looked more dire for the Empire than it is now. \n\nMen must rally to the army. Women must give their pots and pans and all their children to the war. There is nothing I can give them in return, nothing to compensate for lives lost and blood spilt. Nothing but hope to burn in their hearts. Nothing but hope to fill their hungry stomachs. Nothing but but hope to cling to when their loved ones have fallen to the bullets or torn asunder by the bombs.\n\nWe stand alone against the darkness. For now I hope. Until then we must endure; to endure no amount of guns or grenades will be enough: Hope alone will give us the strength to persevere.\n\nI take a last sip of whiskey and put the cigar away; what I must do now has spoilt its taste.\n\nI enter the big room where the elected officials whisper nervously like a bunch of frightened chickens. I stand on the speakers podium. I know I will slur my words as always; slur them like a bulldog. But my people need a bulldog now, so a bulldog I will give them.\n\n\"From the moment that the French defences at Sedan and on the Meuse were broken at the end of the second week of May, only a rapid retreat to Amiens and the south could have saved the British and French armies who had entered Belgium at the appeal of the Belgian king; but this strategic fact was not immediately realised. [...]\"\n\n\n\n" ]	1
Alternatively, write a letter that was received, but never opened.	[WP] Write a letter that was never received.	[ "My dearest Alice,\n\nThe rain is the worst part. Surprisingly, I can put up with everything else, the yelling, the long hours and the constant fighting. All of that is manageable, however, I find the rain is the worst part. \n\nIt gets into everything, undoes all the hard work we do, and does nothing but help them. Whenever the sun breaks through the clouds, I'll feel like I'm home with you again. I hope this letter finds you well, and I hope to see you soon. \n\nThis war is coming to an end soon, I feel it. My fight will soon be over. I'll be coming home, safe and sound soon. \n\nYours, Private Jacob Smith.\n\n04/02/1940", "To all those who doubted me, \n\nBecause I alone defied the Global Counsel and chose to act, we are no longer doomed to eek out an existence in the dark ages of post technology. \n\nI have undone the virus that affected all Skynetron robotics products, from household baby-sitters and dog-walkers to defense systems. At the first crow of my neighbor's rooster,(this is what your Luddism has reduced us to), I will be unilaterally bringing everything back online by reversing my kill-switch order via satellite, because nobody else deserves a lick of credit. \n\nDue to the still seditious nature of the web AI(and I have this well in hand), I have repurposed an Enron-V shredder bot into a courier class road-runner to deliver you this joyous, in-your-face, news in quaint paper-letter form. I hereby bequeath the bot to you in memoriam of my deliverance of human-kind from barbarism. I trust that you will not deface this monument in any way, for instance, by painting over the \"I told you so\" or the \"kiss my ass\" messages of hope and defiance that rightfully belong to future generations. \n\nThank you for nothing, and you are welcome for everything. \n\nYours Truly, \n\nSay My Name\n\n", "To my baby girl, you will receive this letter on your eighteenth birthday.\n\nI am your mother, you have never known me. If you receive this letter, it will mean that I have died during child birth. I have been ill for a while and doctors made it clear that there was only one way forward. One of us can live and the other will die.\n\nI have lived a healthy live, a nice live. Your father, my husband, was a great man. And I have the upmost faith that he will have raised you to be a perfect girl. A princess of light in this dark and angry world.\n\nI hope you had a wonderfull live thus far and will be able to achieve your dreams.\n\nSincerely,\nyour mother\n\n04/04/04\n\nBoth mother and child died during birth." ]	3
	[WP] God doesn't know what they're doing and freaks out when they see earth.	[ "Arms folded, and what you could only vaguely call a woman, stood before what you could only vaguely call a man. Between them floated an image of Earth with another image displaying different swathes of land, or individual person's, or any thing happening in Earth. Each flashing by, too fast for any human to perceive, but those vaguely human's watched it, one berating the other. \n\n\"God dammit, what are you going to do now? Look, look right there. That one fell in love, like it could even understand what that is, and it's partner got 'cancer'. Do you know what that is? I don't, but its not good for them. And, and look at all of these. They read books about 'you' and now are waiting for your return. Well, what do you have to say for yourself?\"\n\n\"That they are going to be very disappointed?\" With a smirk God continues \"Honestly I don't even know how this happened. I faintly remember vomiting over here some eon ago?\" He gestures around with his hands.\n\n\n\"It was Lucifer wasn't it. You two are going to cause some real trouble one day and what are you going to do then? Well this is your mess so you sort it out. If I find out you destroyed them all in a flood I'm going to be pissed. You're lucky only one race became intelligent enough for existentialism.\"\n\nAnd with that the woman vanishes from sight. The man known as God looks around with a look of bewilderment. He looks at the flashing image. A wicked grin emerges on his face, and with a tip of his finger he stops it on a gaunt looking man. A name appears under the image, 'Robert Oppenheimer'.\n\nGrasping the second, still image, the Earth spins at rapid speed. Night and day flash across the section of Earth God is looking at until it stops. The view zooms in before stopping in front of a man in a trench coat carrying a brief case and a look of determination. \n\nGod leans forward, lips piercing the image, and whispers to Robert Oppenheimer. Leaning back God grasps the image again and it begins flashing night and day again, but not as long as the last time. Finally it stops on a plane flying with the words 'Enola Gay' written on its side.\n\n\"Well that ought to do it.\" The image's fade away, and God vanishes.", "\"Have you seen it?!\"\n\nMichael sighed and rubbed his temples, sometimes having a boss like his was just...too much. Michael had to constantly remind himself that He was watching over a lot of things all at the same time. That meant from time to time there were the slightest of problems.\n\n\"Seen what?\"\n\n\"Earth. I can't find that stupid side project. With the humans. I had it right here and now it's gone.\"\n\n\"Where did you see it last?\"\n\n\"Michael, if I knew where I saw it last I wouldn't be asking you about it.\"\n\nSnarky. Must be a bad era for Him. Michael glanced around his work space, tearing his eyes away from Andromeda where he'd been working on the space faring races.\n\n\"Did you ask Gabriel? He's always messing with things.\"\n\n\"Who do you think I asked first?\"\n\nSnark levels at an all new high. He was really not having a good era.\n\n\"I have to find it, they've been left alone for far too long. I forgot about it and who knows what they've been up to.\"\n\nThe search stopped for a moment when Gabriel stuck his head into the room.\n\n\"Hey, big man, I found that planet you were looking for. It was filed under a different galaxy. I put it back where it was supposed to be.\"\n\nMichael watched Him move to the screen and pull up the planet, shrugging off the whole mess and turning back to Andromeda.\n\n\"What?!\"\n\nMichael nearly fell out of his chair when He shouted, turning to see a horrified look on his boss' face. He rolled himself over in his chair and took a look at the summary screen.\n\n\"Wow. That's. That's unique.\"\n\n\"Do...do I delete it?\" He said, for the first time asking for someone else's advice. He must really not be happy about it.\n\n\"I don't think so, at the rate they're going they'll take care of themselves. Probably won't even take too long.\"\n\nThere was a long pause while He considered it.\n\n\"You're right, better to just let it sort itself out. Don't want to put my hands in everything.\"\n\nMichael went back to his desk and pushed the little planet out of his mind.\n\n\"It's for the best.\"\n\nIt would be a long time before they thought about that little planet again. When a small space faring craft would appear in Andromeda. By then, well by then it would be too late to stop the experiment." ]	2
	[WP] One day, everyone gets assigned a main quest, one that they are the MC of, everyone except you that is.	[ "It came from the heavens. The scrolls sparkled as they flew there way to their intended recipients. It was a magical event, everyone had been given a divine task. A quest that ranged from training a young dragonling to becoming the dragon slayer. The world was never the same again. People now had a purpose, they no longer trudged through life awaiting for the day they found their calling, their dream, their purpose for living. Everyone now had a task, no a reason for existing. A quest that would lead to other quests, that would ultimately tie in to the grand quest. The quest that led everyone to one point. Everyone was accomplishing their goals for a greater purpose. One that would be revealed when the pieces where in place. Everyone was a piece of a greater whole. Even me, the one who did not receive a quest. No I did not receive a grand scroll, even though I had wanted nothing more than to join everyone on this grand adventure. No I played a different role. I was not given a scroll, instead I was given a small piece of paper, that simply read.\n\" You are the final boss...\nGood luck\"\n" ]	1
	[WP] You awake one morning to see your Reddit Karma has jumped up 3 million points. Confused as to how improbable this is, you discover your comment from 5 years ago on a conspiracy thread was the culprit. After looking at the news, you realize what you guessed was true...	[ "That morning i spilled coffee all over my shirt. It was nice white shirt and I had it for quite some time. I ruined it in that moment but honestly I didn't care. \nI was looking at my Reddit karma points. 3 million. 3 MILLION. WHAT. THE. FUCK? It was mere 800 points yesterday. What happened? Was it a glitch?\nWell... no, apparently. I refreshed the page a few times, but there was no change. Still 3 million. Err... what now? Well... time to find out!\n\nThe front page of Reddit made the situation clear. Every post in the feed was either about the mysterious redditor that solved the conspiration behind the world governments or the conspiration itself. After a quick research I learned what was the so named 'conspiration'. Apparently there were clues that lead to the fact the governments of the world superpowers - USA, Russia, China, Britain and so on - were just a puppets. A puppets for a small group of men called \"The Leaders\" that were basically controlling the world. It wasn't stated who did all the research about this, but the facts looked solid enough. There was also a link to a news site and a post about the mysterious man that predicted this whole thing in a thread about conspiracy theories about 5 years ago. In Reddit, of course. There was the name of the user added. MY username. \n\"Oh... shit\" - I thought as I got back to Reddit. I instantly remembered the whole thing. I posted a short comment on a thread with questionable quality on r/Conspiracy about 5 years ago. It was a short comment and it was more of a joke inspired by the book Carrion Comfort by Dan Simmons. And now it was true... what crazy world have I entered?\n\nAfter a bit ot search I found the exact same comment that turned me into a superstar. The topic was very old and normally would have been archived by now, but no such luck. It was full of shitty responses made mainly by people that have watched too many episodes of the 'X-Files' at once. Now it had more than 700 000 upvotes and my comment had even more. There was a ton of responses and my inbox was flooded with messages as well. \nI was quite shocked. I didn't know what to do. The world has changed... all those theories about illuminati, the masons and the large companies controlling the world were true, at least in some parts. The big governments were really controlled by a small group of all-poweful people. And I was like some kind of a damned prophet that knew the truth years before anyone! What has happened? Was this a dream?\n......\nThree days later I was in a small dim hotel room in some small city along the California State Route 3. I knew I had to run... they, \"The Leaders\" or whatever they call themselves, were after me. I simply knew it. I was 350-360 miles away from my home.\nI was browsing through Reddit on my laptop. It was around midnight. There was a ton of news... wars, rebellions, overthrown governments... And I maybe have caused it. Not all of it, but I had a role in the ongoing events. \nIn that moment I heard how the door of the room opens. I felt cold chill going down my spine. I checked three times and I was sure that I locked the door. I turned my head and I saw him.\nA tall man in a black costume with red tie and sunglasses. He looked almost like some kind of a stereotypic hitman from a movie or a video game. But he was completely real. \n\"Who are you?\" he said with deep manly voice. \"How did you know about us? Are you an enemy?\"\nMy throat was sore. I felt the tears going out of my eyes as I stepped away from the laptop and went to the window. I saw them easily - an army of red dots in the night from around the hotel. Snipers. Ready to kill everything. Ready to kill me. ", "\"The moon landing is a fucking hoax. Nothing like that could ever happen.\"\n\nYEARS... \n\nI'm sitting in my boss's office, he's chewing me out again. Like always. I'm checking Reddit, pretending to check emails. This is the high point of my day. \n\n3 million? What the actual fuck? I blink and my boss asks me what's wrong. \n\n\"Oh, Johnson mailed me about the Nicholas case.\"\n\nHe takes a break from berating me. \n\n\"Hey, did you see the news?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, what?\" I'm convinced that my account has been hacked. I mean, I'm a nobody. I've only ever had a couple of thousands points. \n\n\"The moon landing, total crap. Never happened.\" I imagine my boss in a fiery automobile wreck. \n\nMy boss's eyes settle on me, the weight of them feeling like stacked bricks. I wonder what he is thinking. He soon clears things up for me. \n\n\"I know it was you.\"\n\n\"Know it was me, what?\"\n\n\"You're a liability now, you know that, right?\"\n\n\"I have no idea what you're talking about.\"\n\n\"How the fuck did you know about what we did?\"\n\nI twig then, my past as an antagonistic douche bag... All those points. \n\n\"Time to go, we need to contain this and you're a loose end.\"\n\n", "All time travel is, inherently, a paradox. The very action of time travel - placing yourself in another time, one where you do not belong, results in a change in events that mean the future is modified in some way. Thus time travel becomes a perceptual loop of little alterations, some of which throw off the wheels of progress, some make things a little smoother. Think of it like calibrating a bike.\n\nThe best way to conceptualise this is to imagine a world in two dimensions being viewed by you, a being in three dimensions. A flat world, with flat people, only you reach down and pull one up into the sky. How does this 2D being explain what has just happened? They lack the verbal gymnastics required to reveal something beyond their world view. And if that analogy works for you, it's probably because I ripped it from Carl Sagan.\n\nThe reason I mention all of this is because how time travel is possible, or why it has ripples invisible and incorporeal, is beyond our understanding. We just know that we can do it. And we know that, when these ripples build up substantially, the universe itself begins to fight against itself.\n\nFortunately, there is a release switch to this pressure. The universe simply needs a little nudge - that bike calibration - to feel like it's in control again. This sometimes results in deja vu, sometimes the genetic lottery spitting out two near-identical people in different parts of the world, and sometimes through an explosion of thoughts, concepts from ideas from times beyond that coalesce and condense into genius, inspiration and miraculous acts. All of this is the natural switch. Yet sometimes we have to step in to help.\n\nReddit, we soon discovered, was the perfect 21st century switch. Much like 'zines of the 20th century, penny dreadfuls of the 19th, scrawled lewd graffiti in Ancient Rome or the yogurt pot codes of Neo-Brazil. If you type some junk and jive on Reddit - some wild and mad conspiracy theory that something 'could' happen - the universe accepts that this probability was likely enough that it's part of the natural order. Thus we, the society of the future, put all the crazy repercussions of our actions on Reddit. We post pictures of insane acts, confident someone will belittle them as 'FAKE' or 'THIS DID NOT HAPPEN'. We spout theories about inventions. We unwind the creative spool of 'dank memes'. And the universe, safe in its natural order, accepts this as part of the coherent timeline and reality.\n\nThus, when one Traveller happened to attend Donald Trump's inauguration, spilled his coffee and caused a pigeon to fly out, we knew we had to take action. Not because of the pigeon itself, but the Rube Goldberg events that unfolded after: the coffee to the pigeon, the pigeon catching the attention of a bald eagle brought along as part of the celebrations, the eagle flying after the pigeon, the secret service mistaking the eagle for a drone and shooting it dead, the dead eagle tumbling to the ground and whacking the president-elect over the head as he took his oath, the world viewing this as a sign of the collapsing democracy of the Union and all that followed... well. We had to take action.\n\nIt was fortunate I could remember my Reddit account back in 2013. All it took was a simple trip back to boot up my old computer (booting! How quaint), a few typed (typed!) strokes onto a website... and instantly the universe was comfortable with the reality.\n\n\"LOL, IMAGINE IF TEH DUDE FROM THE APPRENTICE WAS ELECTED PRESIDENT. THEN WHEN HE TAKES OFFICE SOME BALD EAGLE IS LIKE 'NAH, YOU CAN'T BE PRES' AND GOES TO TAKE A CRAP ON HIS ORANGENESS, BUT THE SECRET SERVICE SHOOT DOWN THE BIRD AND IT CRASHES DOWN AND SMACKS OUT TRUMP COLD'.\"\n\nA simple post on some gibbering conspiracy theory thread. Then all my fellow Travellers had to do was upvote when it happened.\n\nThe universe was restored. And I reaped the karma...", "The things reddit remembers never ceases to amaze me.\n\nWhile my post had gotten some decent attention at first, it wasn't really all that memorable. Just some analysis of the scores of comments with respect to time. While the data was mostly what you'd expect, with comments usually getting most of their points within the first few hours of their life, there were some… outliers.\n\nI didn't think they were significant in any way. In fact, I had assumed that it was simply an error I had made somewhere. I mean, out of all the comments my program was tracking (which just so happened to be all the comments), there were only three instances of the outliers occurring. Comments whose scores hadn't changed in years had somehow gained, or lost, a single point. I almost didn't include them with the rest of the data, but the timing is what caught my attention.\n\nPosts and comments on reddit are archived after six months. Once this process takes place no new votes can be cast, and no new comments can be made. However, on all three of the outliers, a vote was cast well after the post had been archived. Five years after, to the day, every time.\n\nI thought this was unusual. And, apparently, so did the someone else. One user asked me about the outliers and speculated that perhaps there's a bug in the coding that allows voting to become active again five years after a post was archived, but only for one day. I told the user that it was very unlikely to be an error in the code and that it was most likely just an error I had made somewhere. The user replied with a cheeky \"See you in five years!\"\n\nAs you could probably guess, it's been five years and six months since then. The messages I keep receiving are making that abundantly clear. As it turns out, that user was completely correct, and somehow got the internet hive-mind to notice. His comment, my comment, and every other comment on my post are now on their way to being the most upvoted comments ever posted. I guess that's just what happens when the internet puts its mind to something.\n\nI'll never understand the things people find interesting.", "Dear Reddit, instead of responding to all of my inbox messages, I am making this post to explain what happened. I'll start by explaining the morning I discovered my prediction.\n\n\"Wake up, JT! If you're late for the bus I am going to be mad!\"\n\nI rolled over, my bleary eyes taking in the world. My ears, ringing from mother's yelling screamed to be covered with a pillow for another 10 minutes of sleep. I forced myself into a sitting position and rubbed my tired eyes. Pulling the blankets off, I grabbed my cell phone and staggered into the bathroom to perform my morning ritual. Not suprisingly, the new push notifications from reddit appeared to have a bug. I knew I should have opted out from Beta. Ignoring the plethora of notifications, I switched to reddit to make a post complaining about it. I was shocked to find that I had over 2000 new messages, and tried to figure out what happened. Deftly navigating to the source of the issue, I found a comment from years ago that I had made.\n\n\"What if Trump was really an android developed by Russia\"\n\nNo. Fucking. Way.\n\nI had been kidding at the time, but evidently some genius at Google had figured it out because he was trying to compare his new A.I. software against a real person, only to discover that Trump was just using some advanced A.I.\n\nNo, I do not have \"inside knowledge\". It was just a fluke.\n\nKeeping that in mind, however, I will leave you with this:\n\nWhat if drugs are really just a way to placate the most rebellious among us, so that they aren't marching on D.C., but instead are just getting high all the time? The feds have only kept the War on Drugs going, despite its obvious failings, because it actually increases the use of them in the correct populations?", "\"I knew it!\" I said, coming back to my senses. Five years ago I attended a foreign politics class and thought about pursuing a career in the intelligence community, and at the height of my interest, I did some research into the Soviet union and it's downfall, and I realized after a few days that it would be possible for some of the old leaders of the revolution, Stalin, Lenin, and many others could still be alive through an experimental life support system invented in the late forties. It sounded weak at the time, but I wanted some extra karma on reddit, and someone was bound to upvote it.\n\nI hadn't even checked any news sites yet, but the front page of reddit was filled with reactions to my post. Apparently, during the current investigations involving Russia and the United States' President-Elect, evidence which supported my claim years ago was unearthed. Apparently, it went so deep that Putin had actually been merely a representative of the old leaders, and Russia had always been soviet. Quickly logging into my email, I found hundreds of emails asking for interviews and explanations. Reddit was no different, and I found myself drowning in attention. \n\nI needed some air, so I shut my computer down, grabbed a beer, and walked out onto my porch. Everything seemed normal enough, the morning air was biting, but there was no signs of civil unrest. Granted, I wasn't in Russia.\n\nAs I sipped my beer, I noticed a faint little red light in the woods. I leaned in to see if I could get a better look, but I never got the chance to figure out what it was. I fell back and clutched my chest, blood was pouring out. The loud bang would be the last thing I heard as I tried to get back up, but my strength betrayed me. I laid there and called out for help, but no one could hear my cries.\n\n\nEdit: Forgot something\n\nEdit2: Fixed the gunshot and death" ]	6
	[WP] You have a photographic memory. That is, you can only remember what has been photographed.	[ "“You have a bad brain!” Ryder chirped at me. I looked at my creation and smirked, she wasn’t wrong. I was broken. I could only remember things that existed in photos. To explain the severity of my “bad brain,” my wife Melissa insists we owned a cat for two years before he ran away. It’s not that I don’t believe her, it’s that we didn’t bother taking any photos of the cat, therefore he doesn’t exist to me. Our new house has a room dedicated to boxes of photos to help preserve my memories. “No more missing cats,” Melissa tells me as she labels each and every box, with the help of our little Ryder. I chuckle, kiss them goodbye, and head off to work.\n\nIt’s almost the end of the day. For some reason I didn’t drive to work. I can’t remember why I didn’t drive. All I can focus on is picking up a bike at a local shop. I don’t remember why I’m picking up this bike. Hell, I can’t really remember anything. I can remember my siblings and my mom and dad, so I rehearse memories of family vacations to put my mind at ease. \n\nI leave work and head to pick up this bicycle. If I can remember I need to do this, it must be important. When I arrive, the man in the bike shop tells me “she’ll love it.” I don’t know what he’s talking about but play along to avoid confusion. After leaving the bike shop I’m not sure where to head. Fuck, I panic, why can’t I remember anything? I can’t even remember where to go. I decide to follow my instinct, which is to hop on the bike and ride. \n\nAs I pedal, I feel an immense warmth take over me. The kind of warm that suffocates you. A warmth that no cold can overpower. I’ve been riding for nearly thirty minutes when lights flashing in the distance grab my attention. Riding closer I notice smoke, and people huddled on the sidewalk. It becomes clear as I ride closer that there is a house fire. \n\nThat’s sad, I think to myself, I hope everyone is okay.\n\nSilently I ride up to the house, watching the flames as the warmth intensifies. The cool air picks up as ash and debris scatter around. I glare at the flames a little longer, and a battered photograph grazes the ground in front of me. I pick it up, looking at a photo of a bike with the words “almost my birthday… don’t forget.”\n\nI toss the photo in the fire, and my inexpiable pain disappears.\n" ]	1
First submission, just thought of this a few minutes ago.	[WP]You're playing the brand new game of Sims, which uses an advanced version AI. After a few hours of playing, you realize the characters are behaving differently than when you started. It's almost like they realize that they're in a game...	[ "My first playthrough of the Sims 5 was going pretty well. I had already created my 3-person family, composed of me (but buffer), my crush (don't judge), and Bruce Wayne. Granted, right off the bat, my crush, Sandra, fell in love with Bruce. He was two age groups above him, but whatever. I could live with it (I died inside.)\n\nThings started going weird about 30 minutes in. Bruce started spending his spare time investigating seemingly nonsensical things. He'd spend minutes waving his hands in front of his face. He'd take things out of the fridge, close it, and immediately check it again. He'd stare at his watch for hours.\n\nSandra started suffering mood penalties because Bruce was ignoring her. Real Me (hereafter \"LN\" for \"Lonely Nerd\") saw this as a chance for Cyber Me (hereafter \"TP\" for \"Total Playa\") to make a move on her. Emotionally manipulate her while she's depressed, get her to totally fall for me.\n\nSo I'm no saint. Sue me (seriously, go for it).\n\nSo I went for it, just me and her talking for several hours, all alone in the house (save for Bruce Wayne, stuck in a closet that had only seconds before had a door leading out into the smallest bedroom). Because my social ineptitude extends to electronic representations of me, I decided to go about my attempt at seduction by telling her the same joke over and over and over until she loved me.\n\nMiraculously, it worked! Her relationship with Pimpin' Me was higher than her relationship with Bruce! E-Me had mad game!\n\nNow, because I'm a (manipulative yet sensitive) gentleman, I don't Woohoo on the first date--especially when it's not actually a date, and she is, in fact, currently dating someone else. My immediate plan was done, so it was time to go let Bruce out of the closet (sadly, only in the literal sense).\n\nI moved over to him, assuming he'd be starving or something, but his mood was actually hovering steadily at \"Irritated\". That was odd; he should be way worse off, especially since he's standing in his own urine (to each his own?). I glanced at him again.\n\nHe was staring right at me.\n\nNot the superior virtual representation of me who could get all the chicks he wanted (I wanted ._.), but at the actual, real-life, autistic loner me. He was staring straight at the camera.\n\nKinda freaky, to be honest, but nothing too big. Probably a bug. No wonder Sandra was going to be manipulated into hating him and dumping him.\n\nInitiating Phase Two (complete with a manual save to later revisit each step of my Great Conquest).\n\nI waited until Sandra was using the bathroom (Tomodachi Collection Me was busy cooking Toast. On the oven. I don't know, either.), then I went and selected Bruce.\n\nAt this point, Bruce was tired, hungry, thirsty, and needed to use the bathroom, bad (I reflected briefly on the fact that there was no point to making Bruce Wayne if he was just gonna act like Bruce Wayne all the time instead of Batman. Whatever.). In short, he was angry at everything and hated life.\n\nI cackled maniacally (in real life) and told Bruce to go and shower.\n\nIn the bathroom.\n\nWhich had Selma in it.\n\nOn the toilet.\n\nIn a state of moderate undress.\n\n...\n\nYou guys see where I'm going with this, right? I had Bruce walk in on Selma in the bathroom. She immediately stood up (not what I'd do) and started yelling at him (\"Eeblagga wooga chin hothani\", etc.) for breaching her privacy and betraying her trust and whatnot (Women...). I checked her status effects and, sure enough, she was angry at Bruce for barging in on her.\n\nAnyway, she finished yelling, pulled up her pants (at no point did she wipe, flush, or wash her hands. Why do I love her?), and ran into the kitchen, crying. Electro-Me, in his infinite wisdom and suaveness (and no small amount of beauty) immediately went to comfort her, correctly assessing her to be more important than an everyday slice of OvenToast (???). She complained to him in little emoticons and pictures, blabbing standard Sims nonsense while hugging my character.\n\nHe pat her awkwardly on the shoulder, uncertain of what to do. He's so much like me!\n\nAnyway, she spent like, half an hour crying (I didn't even pick the Drama Queen trait for her, I swear) before she finally left to go play video games. Me 9000 went back to ovening them bread slices, but suddenly disaster struck!\n\nThe oven caught fire.\n\n!\n\nIt spread rapidly, almost immediately consuming the Me-borg (Shishkebot?). I still remember his screams. They were surprisingly graphic, realistic, and traumatizing.\n\nFortunately, in my endless foresight, I had saved as I first entered...\n\nRe-Initiating Phase Two (\"loading GeniusPlanPart2.fam\")\n\nAlright, quick pause to remember where (when) I am.\n\nKitchen Bytemares Me is off toasting the oven or whatever. Sandra was in the bathroom (Reading. Probably gonna be another hour before she leaves without wiping. Why must I love her so?) Bruce is off futilely trying to catch some sleep (I put 3 TVs in his room and put them all on \"HYPERLOUD\" volume on the \"NOYZ\" channel).\n\nUnpause. Chaos. I remember it like it was yesterday (it was).\n\nMe3PO immediately panics. I happened to have him selected when I unpaused, so I watched as his mood dropped immediately to a tick above zero.\n\nNo reason was listed.\n\nHe abandoned his twice-baked bread and ran to his bedroom, then locked himself in and sat in the fetal position in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth, constantly displaying a speech bubble with a skull icon in it.\n\nThat had been unexpected.\n\nI noticed Bruce was going somewhere, so I panned over to him (Ter-Me-Nator lives in a big house because he's a writer, and writing is OP in every Sims game ever). On the way, I noticed Sandra getting up, walking to the bathroom door, and locking it (attagirl). Odd. Not \"sudden unwarranted freakout\" odd, but still odd.\n\nAnyway, I panned over to Bruce and noticed that he had given up on sleep. Strangely, while all his needs were still low, his mood level had risen to \"Interested\". He walked to the kitchen, ripped the oven-toast away from its natural habitat, and unplugged the oven.\n\nClearly, something was up. Now, I'm no idiot (I am). I can make logical jumps (I can't). I have pattern recognition (that one's true).\n\nIt was a kooky theory, but I was beginning to think that maybe the sim people were starting to become sentient!\n\n!!! (Seriously, though, that's huge.)\n\nOnly one way to proceed.\n\nInitiate Improvised Alternative Phase Three (Time for my 3 days of improv lessons to finally come in handy.)\n\n[[To be continued in another post because this one is arbitrarily too long by my standards. Also, karma grab, I guess.]]" ]	1
	[WP] Paul McCartney did die in 1966. Terrified of what will happen to the biggest band of all time, the record label forces you - a Paul McCartney lookalike with no musical experience to take his identity.	[ "\"W-w-wait!\" he said as they tossed him into the study and stood, blocking the doorway. He landed face down on the carpet.\n\nThe larger of the two men said,\"You said you wanted to be a star. Now don't come out until you have a dozen songs written.\"\n\n\"But I am NOT musically gifted at all! All I understand about it is that the words sometimes rhyme!\" he called out while reaching up from the floor.\n\n\"Oh, good. A bass player.\"\n\n Slam. Lock. The room was mostly dark except for a small lamp on a desk. Also on the desk was a legal pad and a cheap pen. He got up from the floor and crawled into the chair.\n\nThe page was blank. He looked away. There was a random picture of no one he recognized on the desk. There was a Newton's cradle, and, above, on the wall, a motivational calendar with clever sayings for each month. This month was picture of a cat hanging on a laundry wire beneath the sentence,\"LIFE GOES ON.\"\n\n\"Ok, ok, ok, \" he said while centering himself and cracking his knuckles. \"Write a song, write a song. Songs rhyme. Write rhymes. Let's see... thirty days have September...\"\n\nAfter a moment, he wrote the words 'April Showers Bring Mayflowers' on the legal pad.\n\n\"No, no. That's all been down. 'It's all pilgrim power from Mayflowers.' No, no. 'It's just a spring clean for the May Queen'-- no, that's just retarded, what kind of idiot--...\"\n\nSo the night progressed. His head began to throb. His eyes went lax and his mouth drooled. He began drumming on the desk, trying to work out a rhyme to some kind of shitty, angry, inconsistent rhythm. He prayed to Jesus or Bob Dylan to get him of the nightmare he was living, just anything. The Newton's cradle ticked on. The picture of the cat on the wire stared at him.\n\n\"Please, Mr. Kitty,\" he whispered.\n\nAt last, after hours had passedm his language devolved into single, unintelligible syllables. His expression was blank. His tongue lolled out his mouth and spittle ran down his cheek. At some point, he had moved his percussion exercises from both hands drumming on the desk, to both hands pounding on each side of his own head.\n\n\"Der der der,\" he said. \n\n\"Dee dee dee,\" he lolled.\n\n\"Oh bla dee,\" he moaned. \n\n\"Oh bla dah,\" he moaned in senseless, retarded-ass counterpoint.\n\nHis eyes fell on the kitty cat poster. \"LIFE GOES ON,\" he read robotically across the top. His eyes traced down the picture, past the kitty cat, to the garments drying on the line.\n\nAnd he started giggling like a twelve year old. \"Bra!\"\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] The last two humans on earth are male.	[ "We buried Emily an hour ago, in the smouldering ruins of London, under the iconic tip of Big Ben. Blanketed by endless sand dunes, we tried to find a spot for her that would be instantly recognisable to honour her dying wishes, to make her grave stand out.\n\nTurning to Ryan, hunched over in his suit forcing back tears, I tried to hide the shock on my face with a weak smile. We were the last two humans left on Planet Earth. No females remained.\n\n\"What do we do now?\" Despite the sand blowing around them, he could see the fear rising in Ryan's wide, brown eyes as he said the words.\n\nI swallowed hard, the thick glass visor muffling my voice. \"We need to get out of here, it's not safe. Another solar flare could...\"\n\n\"Fuck the solar flare.\" Ryan said as a tear fell down his cheek. He sniffed and blinked hard, incredulous to his surroundings as a crack formed in the sand a mile to their left. A chunk of sand disappeared into the ground leaving a gaping hole. \"It's over. It's...Emily's dead.\"\n\nI cast a glance to the sky, ignoring the crack in the distance, as I jogged over to Ryan to comfort him, sand crunching under my boots as I walked. The sky was a psychedelic cacophony of colour and sound. Roaring thunder clouds cracked jagged shards of lightning in the distance. The yellow and red bleached sky held dots of bruised, purple clouds ready to spew acidic rain at any moment.\n\nRyan fell to the ground as the realization hit home. Slamming a shaky fist into the sand, he sobbed uncontrollably. I grabbed my brother and held him, my gloved hands barely reaching around his bulky exterior. He hugged me back with a vice-like grip and we sat there for what seemed like hours, listening to the wind howling around us, kicking up grains of sand to throw in our faces.\n\nOut the corner of my eye, I could see the red warning blinking in irritation on the edge of my helmet. The flare was coming. \n\n\"We really need to go. It's not safe.\" I pleaded, grunting as I pulled Ryan back to his feet. He took a deep breath and bit his lower lip, deep in thought as he looked over me at the endless miles of sand behind us. His monstrous suit somehow made him look taller than he already was as he towered over me.\n\n\"I'm good. I'm staying with Emily.\" He said, staring at the silhouetted black squares of skyscrapers poking up from the sand. \n\n\"Emily's dead. Think of your futur--\" He pushed me then, hard. Landing on the grains did nothing to soften the dull wave of pain that slammed into my spine. I grabbed the crook of my back and looked up at Ryan, shielding the enormous Sun in the distance pulsing excitedly as it coughed more flares toward the Earth.\n\n\"I have no future. Not anymore!\" Ryan said, trying to say the words without bursting into tears again. \"They died with her. I...I was going to marry her.\"\n\nHe tossed a black box on the ground and gripped the back of his head with both hands, pacing like a caged lion. I grabbed it, brushing a thick layer of sand from the top and flicked it open. The glistening diamond reflected the red sun overhead.\n\n\"Ryan I...why didn't you tell me?\"\n\nI knew he and Emily were an item of course but was unaware of how serious it had been. I was too busy wrapped up in my own little world as we explored towns and cities destroyed in the Last Great War to really pay much attention. Her death was as brutal and sudden as the War that had wiped out the majority of life on our once great planet.\n\nShe had fallen and landed on a stray shard of metal hours before we buried her. We had lifted her impaled, lifeless body from the steel and were too stunned to say anything. We just stared in dumbfounded disbelief at what had happened. We dug the grave in silence. We buried her in silence. We stared at the same spot in silence.\n\nI clambered back to my feet, brushing sand from my suit and stepped beside Ryan, it felt like walking through syrup as my feet and legs threatened to be swallowed completely.\n\nRyan turned back to me and shook his head. \" It means nothing now. She's gone. Any hope for a family is gone.\"\n\n\"You'll always have family.\" I said, looking up into Ryan's puffy eyes. He smiled back sadly and shrugged his shoulders.\n\n\"I'll always have my dorky little brother I guess.\" He tried to ruffle my hair by tossing my helmet back and forth. The affection failed, instead vertigo greet him.\n\n\"So what do we do?\"\n\nThe smile dropped. Ryan narrowed his gaze and stared at me with his brown, hard eyes. \"I'm not going to live the rest of my life waiting to die. I'm sorry Scott but I...I don't want to live like this anymore. I'm choosing when to die and I'm choosing right now.\"\n\nA sudden wave of emotion hit me. On the one hand I was angry at Ryan for being so selfish in even considering leaving me but another part of me empathised and even wished to join him. Why should life decide when it was right for them to die? They could choose to die right now and leave the world in defiance; end the human race with a swift middle finger to fate and time. His mind made itself up at that moment. What were they really living for?\n\nI put my arm around Ryan and nodded knowingly. \" Fine. Let's end this here and now. No more running. No more hiding.\"\n\nIgnoring the shaking of my hands, the adrenaline pumping through my body and the way the sweat was pouring down my face, I stared into the distance and watched with my brother as the solar flare decimated everything in its path. It would be us next, in a few minutes we would be dead, and with us, the end of the human race.\n", "\"I always thought the world would end in war.\" \n\n\"Yea? I always thought zombies.\" \n\nThe two left to watch the world end sat on their shared rooftop. Zach, at least that's what it said on his store clerk vest, sighed heavily at the sight of his home town flooded with corpses. \n\n\"Zombies huh? Yea, right.\" His companion through it all, Jeremy, scoffed at the \"always right\" mentality Zach seemed to have since the beginning. \n\n\"It's true. But I will say this, I didn't expect to live to see the end.\" Both men held their pistols loosely as they ate fresh hamburgers they grilled in the backyard. \n\n\"Yea, kinda quick wasn't it? I mean, even our mom dying feels like a couple weeks ago.\" The zombies who'd turned from bites were the hardest to deal with. Fresh bodies slowly decaying, but decaying nonetheless, took the longest to wait out. And yet, everyone around them had become mushy sick piles of yuck after a few months. \n\n\"Right?\" Zach laughed a bit, \"Heh, being immune was surprising. Remember how we almost shot each other?\"\n\n\"Ha, yea, like 'Oh my God you were bit.' and you were like 'You're the one who's bit.' and you tried to pull the 'You'd shoot your own brother?!' card... Ha and we were trying to take the gun from each other.\" Jeremy laughed weakly before coughing into his fist. There was an awkward pause for a moment. \n\nThe world was quiet now. All the tension had died with the hoards of zombies. The threat of starvation even ceased to exist once they saw cattle and livestock weren't affected. Even the crops and fish were safe to eat so long as they were cared for. \n\nEverything was, for lack of a better word, normal. \n\n\"So...\" Zach whistled, setting his beer down on the roof, \"Listen—\"\n\n\"We don't need to talk about it.\"\n\n\"No?\"\n\n\"Yea, no, yea... I mean, we thought we were gonna die.\" Jeremy scoffed and laughed it off. \"So you know, like, whatever.\" Jeremy averted his eyes and hugged his knees for a sense of protection.\n\n\"Yea... I mean, sure, you were like 'Dude we're gonna die so just do this for me.' But... now we aren't dead.\"\n\n\"No, yea, no we aren't... No we are not.\" \n\nThe sky held a distinctive dead scent to it. The various bon fires they lit around town to help clean up the mess was a good distraction, at first. But then came moments like this. \n\n\"Yep...\" Zach let out a cough before rubbing his pistol, \"So, like, remember how you said that if we, like, lived through it you'd let me—\"\n\n\"No, no, that was like then and this is now.\" \n\n\"We're alive now.\"\n\n\"Yea and there's no reason to do it again. No, no reason at all. Like, back then I was just—okay.\" Jeremy sighed and turned to his brother, letting his beer fall to the soggy organ covered ground below. \"Listen. Back then we were cornered in a tool shed. I thought we were going to die, that's the only reason I asked you to... to do the thing I asked you to.\"\n\n\"Right, and I understand.\" Zach spoke with a cold look in his eyes, \"But you said if we lived that you'd do that for me this time.\"\n\n\"But you have to understand! I thought we were going to die!\"\n\n\"And we didn't!\" Zachary shot up for the first time raising his voice, much to his own surprise, \"So just... make this easy on us both... please, I need this...\"\n\n\"O-Okay man, no need to get hostile. I'll do it... just, don't look at me while I do it, it's embarrassing, okay?\" Zach nodded and agreed to his terms. \n\n***\n\n\"Mmm that feels nice.\" Zach sighed as he sunk into the couch of among the wreckage left of their new home. Jeremy glared and continued his work, moving his hands cautiously. \"Heh don't think so much, just do what's natural.\"\n\n\"You're enjoying this too much.\" Jeremy groaned. \"And the smell... you're taking a shower after this.\"\n\n\"Yea, ha, yea, just—ohh, right there.\" Zach sighed in relief as the cramp in his foot was finally released from its burden, \"You massage way better than me.\"\n\n\"Gee thanks. Ugh I'm never doing this again! Your feet have corns on them!\"\n\n\"Don't be that way, man! I'll rub yours next time too!\" \n\n\"Ugh...\" Jeremy groaned, using the wash basin to soak his brother's feet. \"I hate you.\"\n\n\"Love you too, bro.\" " ]	2
	[WP] You're just a normal person going through your normal life. But one morning, you wake up to see a strange creature at the foot of your bed.	[ "I wake. He's there. Furry and white. I gif him bread and sandwich. He lick my hand and curl into my leg. I pet furiously. He gif me love. I spend day with him. He love it and I love it. We are friend to hours and hours. I sleep. He crawl in my pants. Begin eat my leg. I wake from fright and scream. He make pain for leg and blood. I gif him punch in face and he not happy. I try calling but no listen. I name him buttercandle. Sweet buttercandle bury in yard tears from face and sad, so sad.\n\nI sorry for not English. Story from heart is hope not make you cry much. Very close heart story is sincere. Buttercandle is my animal sleep in bed with me. Thank you friend for share.", "Frank didn't want a child. \n\nThey were both young, he'd said. There would be plenty of opportunities later and didn't she want to concentrate on her career first? It would only be responsible to make sure they were both bringing in enough money before they even thought about a child. \n\nShe agreed. Of course she agreed. \n\nLater on, Frank was older and she was older. She brought up the topic again and Frank shook his head. We don't need a child cramping our style. We're happy with just the two of us. \n\nShe wasn't so sure. She wanted a child. But she nodded anyway. Frank seemed rather brash lately- he was probably stressed out at work. \n\nThen she found out about the mistress. A divorce was currently in the works. She was getting a bit old by now- she wasn't even that pretty when she was young. \n\nThere was no chance of a child anymore. \n\nShe cried at night sometimes when she thought about Frank, which was still too often for her tastes. It happened one night that when she woke up feeling tears on her cheeks that she saw something shifting at the foot of her bed. \n\nShe thought it was the shadow of a branch outside at first but it moved and lengthened and stretched. \n\nIts face was pale and pointy. Its body was covered in dark ivy leaves. She watched as it climbed onto her bed with delicate spindly limbs and marvelled at the dragonfly's wings sprouting from its back.\n\n\"What are you?\" \n\nIt tilted its head at her.\n\n\"Who are you?\" \n\nIt snuggled at her feet. \n\nIt was an illusion, she thought. I haven't been sleeping well lately. She fell back asleep. The next morning when she woke up it was gone.\n\nShe walked into the kitchen and found it sitting by her fridge. A packet of frozen fish lay open on the floor beside it and it nibbled on a raw fish. It looked up when it heard her, and smiled. \n\nIt was such a lovely smile, she thought. It reminded her of her father's smile, all dimples and the twinkling of black, deep eyes. She blinked and saw that the creature had brown hair, the exact shade of her father's- of hers'- but hadn't it been like that before?\n\nShe took care of it, feeding it with frozen meats. She wasn't earning much, but she had enough money for it. It grew bigger and its appetite grew. She brought it around the block in the evening, showing it stray cats. It was very quick to pounce on the furballs and eviscerate them. It looked up at her with every kill. \n\nIt grew bigger again. It was almost man-sized now and almost human in appearance- but hadn't it always looked exactly like a human, like the ideal child she had always wanted? \n\nNo, it was her child, she was sure of it. She took to calling him Eric- it was a nice name for a child, she thought, she'd always liked that name even when she was younger. She wondered whether he should meet with his grandparents for christmas dinner- she hadn't met with them in years. \n\nIt grew bigger yet again, the size of a bear. She couldn't get enough meat. Well, she was working as a nurse at the hospital now. She got a few ideas. \n\nAt night she snuck into the morgue at the hospital. She unlocked one of the recently dissected dead and pulled the body out onto the floor. The creature appeared behind her out of nowhere like it always did. It smiled at her and hugged her before it bent down to eat. \n\nShe smiled at it, patting its bloody head. \n\n\"Mommy will always take care of you...\" \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"Come, come! No time for dawdling!\" the thing at the foot of my bed said.\n\nI blinked my eyes, and tried to rub the sleep out of them.\n\n\"You're dawdling,\" it said insistently. The creature resembled a purple caterpillar sitting up on its haunches, but it's top two sets of legs ended in seven fingered hands. It was dressed in a sort of military regalia, complete with a feathered hat and scabbard.\n\n\"Who, or what, are you?\" I said, confused at the whole situation.\n\n\"Sir Reginald,\" it responded matter of factly. \"And really we must be going.\"\n\n\"Where? Where must we be going?\"\n\n\"To the kingdom of Havenworst, of course! Through the portal in your closet.\"\n\n\"This- this is a dream. A very strange dream.\"\n\n\"And what if it is? Is that any reason to not come with me? Put some pants on.\"\n\nSir Reginald made sense: if this was a dream, there was no reason to say no to an adventure. I clamored out of bed and threw on some clothes.\n\n\"Much better. Come along. Into the closet. Hurry up, hurry up,\" Sir Reginald said. \n\nI followed Sir Reginald as he scuttled into the open closet. He shut the door behind us. It was black for a moment, until the floor suddenly glowed a faint blue. My heart raced, as it felt like the whole floor dropped like an out of control elevator. As suddenly as the feeling started, it stopped.\n\n\"We're here,\" Sir Reginald said, opening the closet door once more. Where my room had once bed, there was now a large, sunny clearing in a forest. \n\n\"Where are we,\" I said, flabbergasted.\n\n\"Havenworst. I told you already,\" Sir Reginald said. \"I would have thought the chosen one would have had a better memory.\"\n\n\"The chosen one? What is going-\"\n\n\"Brigand!\" a guttural voice interrupted. An enormous mosquito flew into view, shouting at the two of them.\n\n\"Fiend!\" Sir Reginald cried in response, drawing his sword.\n\nThe mosquito creature swooped down at Sir Reginald, thrusting with a lance. Sir Reginald parried, then swung with sword. The mosquito grunted in pain.\n\n\"Chosen One,\" the mosquito called. \"Do not trust this bug! He is leading you to a trap. You must head for the Lake of Tranquility. There you can fulfill your destiny.\" \n\nThe mosquito made another pass, this time striking true with his lance. Sir Reginald's wound oozed a green ichor. \"Follow me,\" he called to me, as he scurried toward the protection of the forest's trees.\n\n\"Don't do it,\" the mosquito commanded again. \"Come with me instead!\"\n\nI looked from the mosquito to the caterpillar. \"I'm not sure I like this dream,\" I said." ]	3
	[WP] Unknown depths of the sea: you're part of an armada of colossal submarines descending into the abyss...	[ "My comm link buzzes and a red light flicks at the top of my visor\n\"alright lads, this is gonna be a difficult excursion. Reports say this is the biggest one we've encountered thus far, so we're going to use everything we've got. Sonar scans make this one look like an assault class, you know the ones. Thin body, lots of weapons but no realy defence. Thats what we're gonna focus on. Its defence. The sonar hit soft spots around the neck and centre of the chest area, so that's what we've gotta focus on. We start with missiles to weaken it, so Vanguard and Vengeance will be up front. The Britannia carrier is on the surface, so if it gets really bad we can pull up and get air support. Once the missiles hit though, we drop the mechs to engage him, and then the speeders launch from the left and hit that monster in his neck. And questions? Good. I'll comm again in 10 minutes, i want you all at your stations.\"\n\nThe light blinked off and my visor was clear.\nFor most people this was he worst part, the last few minutes before the engagement. They new that if their sub was hit they'd probably go down. I however didn't need to worry about this, since I used a speeder during the combat.\nSpeeders were a beautiful new innovation, essentially and underwater fighter jet. They were incredibly hard to hit, especially for a Beast.\nAh yes, the Beasts\n\nAfter humanity finally began to realise the sea was rising too quickly, a new threat emerged. \nThe Beasts.\n\nTheyvwere first awoken after nuclear war broke out between the US and Russia, with most of europe getting caught in the crossfire. The UK and the Nordic countries stayed neutral however, and when they saw this new threat they rallied behind the Royal Navy, pouring everything they had into keeping what remained of the world safe. At first they fought them on the surface, but inmovations in underwatee tech, like mechs and speeders, made it much more favourable.\n\nThis beast however was a size we had never seen before, at around 2km long.\n\nAs I made my way down to the hangar, my comm blinked again.\n\"Vanguard, Vengeance, launch trident missiles on my mark. Glorious and Supremacy take aim on their weak spots. All mechs prepare for drop in, and I want speeder squadrons A and D engaging his flanks with B and C hitting his front.\"\nI was squad A, so i readied myself in my speeder for the launch.\n\nShe was a beautiful machine, with twin-linked flak cannons on her underside and two dreadnaught missile systems on each wing. The machine itself was a gift from the higher ups upon my promotion to Ace Captain, and she was the fastest is the whole armada.\n\nOnce the launch process was ready, the hangar doors opened and our squadron bolted out at max speed. The terrain was mostly flat so we wouldn't have to worry about that. \nWe swooped left through the blue world around us, seeing the Beast up front now. Its eyes were fixed on the Vanguard sub, and in them was a fiery glow like nothing i'd ever seen. It reared its metal skeletal head and set out a ferocious roar that could be heard even here underwater. \nThen, it lashed its enourmoys tail towards the armada.\nThe first swing went wide, but the second hit the HMS Glorious, one of the only two subs with Obsidian missiles. Though the sub didn't go down ot was out of action for certain.\n\nI lead my squadron straight for the tail's beginning, were it met the skin. 6 hellfire missiles launhed in unison from my dreadnaught system, and as they did so I pulled up, allowing the rest of my squadron to fire there too.\n\"We focus on the tail for now, once thats weak enough we head straighr for his chest\" I ordered my squadron down my comm.\nConstant fire finally brought the tail to a halt, but not before it had completely wiped out squad C.\n\nFlying on the Beast's underside I noticed a large oatch of skin between its scales, allowing it to move. I again gave the orders, this time to use conventional weapons to tear its skin to shreds.\n\nIt was definitely mad now.\n\nWe retreated to a safe point before slowing and regrouping. No one was down in my squadron yet. Good.\n\nWe watched the non-nuclear trident missiles thud into the armour around its neck, ripping it to shreds. Seeing this all three remaining squadrons headed for it, firing everything we had.\nThe beast reared its ugly head and crushed most of our squadrons between its teeth. I pulled up and retreated, but it wouldn't give up.\n\nSeeing me flee it snaped after me, trying desperately to take me down with it. The fire in its eyes ignated and desperate roars continued to be let lose. \nI just managed to escape, right as HMS Supremacy launched 4 obsidian missiles straight into the beast's open mouth, tearing it to pieces from the inside out.\n\nAs we arrived back at the base around HMS Brittania, my comm blinked on.\n\"Congratulations everyone, we took it down with fewer casualties than normal. But it apears as though it wasn't alone...\"", "For four days we had floated here in darkness, waiting for the larger ships to catch up with the smaller, although still massive submarines. Out of the 13 that were deployed from the recently created man-made island of Innsmouth, all but two had made it to the bottom of this newly discovered trench, both returning to the surface due to small electronic failures. \n\nOverall it was going very well, the expedition to uncover the secrets that lay almost 14'000 metres beneath the surface of the pacific ocean, was progressing smoothly, that was until the lights uncovered something that forced the fleet to stop. At approximately 8'000 metres below sea level the larger ships, equipped with the strongest lights known to man, found their gaze resting upon a carving into the stone. \n\nOf course, this was impossible. This was such a depth that only very specialised creatures could survive, for something intelligent enough to sculpt rock, and somehow do it in this incredible pressure was terrifying. One ship stayed to examine it further while another was now tasked with floating up and down the walls they had been descending past for almost 2 kilometres and searching for any other carvings. \n\nThis should have given every person on those ships pause, but of course, a circle with wavy lines beneath it would be interpreted as the sun. Maybe this ancient civilisation was the first here on earth? And it's only natural to assume they might worship the sun, as many others have done. \n\nIt wasn't until the larger ships reached us that we learnt our error of our ways and the punishment that comes with greed. The sonar indicated that there was some sort of recess in the rock wall and that it was enormous, finally the volcanic tunnels we had hoped to find! Not only did this bring the possibility for life, but with the overwhelming pressure and volcanic activity comes priceless minerals that would hopefully pay for this expedition ten times over. \n\nAfter setting up the lighting structure, connected between 4 submarines like a giant spider's web, they were slowly fed power. As the glow extended through the water cutting away at the blackness, a silence fell across all channels of communication. All talk, whether it be jovial or to help monitor the power supply ceased at once. Before us stood an archway, large enough to hold any building man had constructed in its entirety, Imposing and giving off an aura of power and timelessness it seemed as though it was here long before earth. \n\nAlien was the right word, it seemed as though the earth was formed around it, not that it was made from the earth. The lights ran deeper into the colossal doorway, biting and scratching away at the dark as they plunged further, hungry to reveal everything they could. But this darkness seemed different, we all noticed it, those in the command rooms and those watching on monitors in common rooms and bedrooms. Whether they thought it sinister or not they all sensed something, this darkness far more than just the absence of light. Then as whispers were slowly starting to re-emerge a sharp gasp filled the room of every submarine. What for a millisecond had seemed like a wall, an uneven rocky surface at the back of this recess was no wall at all. \n\nNot only was it not a wall but neither was it rock, it reflected the light differently. The darkness that the light had vanquished so readily was thicker here and stayed even once lit up, swirling around something still partially obscured. While the light fell upon it this tornado of impenetrable black seemed to burn off in wisps, dissolving into the ocean around it, sometimes flaring out towards the submarines seemingly in frustration. \n\nWhen finally all the darkness was cleared and lights power roared through the ocean we could only feel one overpowering emotion: fear. \n\nFor in the depths of the ocean lay in eternal chains of darkness a force of chaos not meant to be unleashed. All I could recall in my last moments before the titan slowly turned, its tentacles falling down from its bulbous head and its wings pushing thousands of tonnes of water in one motion, was a story I had read as young boy. \n\nThe line that appeared so clearly in my memory now chilled me to my core, and revealed to me that throughout history there were many who warned us in the only ways they could without being laughed at. \n\nI closed my eyes and let the words envelop me as a deep and gargantuam roar caused the walls of the submarine to faulter; \n\nPh'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn\n\n", "\"James, wake up.\"\n\n\"Ugh. What time is it?\"\n\n\"Who cares?\" At the bottom of the ocean, time stops mattering. There is no day. There is no night. There is only the abyssal sea.\n\n\"We're on duty.\" We took 12-hour shifts. Matt and I piloted the sub for half a day, then John and Tank took over for the other half. \"You better get dressed.\"\n\nI threw on my dirty uniform, grabbed my pocket watch from the desk and followed Matt down the hall to the front of the ship. John and Tank looked stressed.\n\n\"How's it goin? 12 more hours of steering 'down' getting any more exciting? Any news from the Commander?\" \n\nThey looked down from the controls and then at each other. John was the first to speak up. \"You guys better sit down.\" John was about 30. Maybe my height with a thick build. Not the kind to get excited too easy. Tank, on the other hand, was a lit fuse, which isn't exactly ideal while millions of gallons of water are pressing down on each of our souls. \"We lost the armada.\"\n\n\"What? The radio's down? Did you flash your lights? They taught us morse code exactly for this reason.\"\n\nTank snapped up. \"Guys! Listen to the man. He didn't say shit's broken. We lost the armada.\"\n\nI looked out the port hole on the starboard side for the flashing red lights of the other 6 subs. I didn't see them, so I checked the next, and the next, and the next. I flipped to the port side and hurriedly checked each one.\n\n\"Where the hell are they?\" It seemed like Matt was still waking up.\n\n\"We don't know.\"\n\n\"What do we do?\"\n\n\"We could surface?\"\n\n\"It would take weeks at this point and we've lost contact with the supply ship.\"\n\n\"Have you told anyone else?\"\n\n\"Not yet.\"\n\n\"Have you done anything? At all? What is wrong with you two?\"\n\n\"Back the hell off!\" Tank had stood up quickly and was glaring toward Matt.\n\n\"Stop it. Now.\" A voice I barely recognized came out of my mouth, as cold as ice. The room froze, and I pulled my pocket watch to check the time. It doesn't matter.\n\nI walked back over to the first porthole. Blue. Deep blue. Outside, the world was shifting, currents moving stronger and faster than any gust of wind. But inside there was only stillness. There were only moments, which seemed to mesh and flow in and out with the tides. Moments of depth, and heaviness, and blue.\n\n\"We continue.\"\n\nBlank stares all around. The three of them silent, their breath frantic and stirring with the waves miles above.\n\n\"Blue is my favorite color. Have I ever mentioned that?\"\n\n\"James. Are you feeling alright?\"\n\n\"It's almost a contradiction. The sky meeting the ocean, the heights and the depths of our known planet colliding as one in a seamless shear of blue. World's apart, but only shades different among all the colors there are. Have you ever thought about that?\"\n\n\"I don't think I see the. . .\"\n\n\"And have you ever wondered why they call it the 'surface' of the ocean? Wouldn't it be at least as apt to describe such a place the 'floor' of the sky? Two realms, a top and bottom to each. Yet, we have always assumed that the point at which the sky meets our planet is simply the end. But no more. Gentlemen, we have tested the breadth of the forests, the expanse of the desert. We've visited the harshest colds and walked upon cinders hotter than any known to man but the sun itself. We've kissed the top of the sky and laughed in its wake as we climbed to the moon. Today, we, the four of us, press on toward yet another frontier. We uncover the depths and the darkness. The abysmal expanse that has so long been just out of reach. I look out this window, and I don't see darkness, danger or despair. I do not fear drowning but doing so in my own failure and self regret.\" I took out my watch and left it, sitting on the edge of the porthole. \"No, I look out this window, and I see only blue. And I'll be damned if a color is going to stop us. Full speed captain.\"\n\n", "Journal Entry 2,920\n\nI haven't seen the sun since the last time we breached the surface for air. That was when we left the port of what used to be North America when I was 7. I remember how it felt, how it warmed my skin and how it felt brighter than any lamp or fluorescent light on board with us. I miss the sun. It's not very exciting just being a maintenance man, even if its on one of the largest civilian submarines in the world. Other workers have been talking a lot more recently. We haven't been communicating with our sister ships for gossip lately, so I only know what I've heard. There's rumours that we're actually headed somewhere, so that means this wasn't just a sick joke based off of some old bible tale of Noah and the whale. \n\nTo be honest I think that would make this a bit more exciting. \n\n-\n\nJournal Entry 2,925\n\nThe rumours were right, we are definitely headed towards a destination. I haven't seen our engineers work harder these last few days than they have in years. The nuclear core is seemingly holding together, but the other civilians are getting nervous. I saw my neighbor start stocking up on their canned goods like the sub is a military base or something. \n\nEveryone on board is getting anxious that our years underwater has made our technicians minds dull and we'll all explode or something... which reminds me that I ought to get some rest. \n\n-\n\nJournal Entry 2,930\n\n\nHas it really only been five days? There's no civilians left on the submarine anymore. Or at least not enough to count. Most of them left on our emergency subs headed towards the surface. After the Captain made his announcement I don't blame them. \n\nAttention everyone on board the Nina, this is your Captain speaking. We are heading down into one of the deepest trenches in the world. The Mariana Trench. Our situation is dire. The core of our submarine is destabilizing and we believe that the element to correct it should be found in the depths below. Without our core at optimal levels our facilities will fail it will start by electrical failure, then disabled water filtration, and finally disrupt our greenhouse sector. As your loyal admirals we decided to leave your safety up to you. We know where we belong, and that's the sea. We will leave all the escape pod bays open access for the next 24 hours. If you are still here by 1200 hours tomorrow, there's no turning back. The pressure in the trench will put a strain on all our faculties and the escape pods will crumple like tissue paper as soon as we enter the trench. You have 24 hours to make up your minds.\n\n\nUnlike everyone else aboard this over-glorified underwater booze cruise, I saw the surface before we left. There's nothing to escape to. This is all that's left of civilization and I'm proud to go down with the ship.\n\n-\n\nJournal Entry 2,945\n\nToday the nuclear core shut down. There's no light anywhere, and the men are panicking. We have enough emergency power for another week at best if we control ourselves. We lost communications with our sister ships. We can't even see them anymore. At this point we are just falling downward with no control. \n\n-\n\n\nJournal Entry 2,950\n\nOur water filtration system broke today. The crew is starting to fight over water privileges. I have too. I'm not proud of it. \n\n-\nJournal Entry 2,953\n\nWe found some of the other sister ships, they were destroyed from the pressure. What kind of underwater pressure leaves gashes in the side of the sub like that? There's no water left as of today. No one is working. The subs internal heating shut down yesterday. Now we are praying to just survive.\n\n-\n\nJournal Entry 2,954\n\n[Corrupted data, partial data recovery]\n\n-reinforcing the escape pods with spare metal from around the ship. We all agreed that we would rather try to escape and die than wait for whatever is out there to get us first. \n\n...\n\nWe've found shelter. ", "An expensive table weight, although the table would have to be the size of Nebraska. The submarine was suppose to be 9 of 20 to explore energy possibilities at the bottom of the ocean through lava vents. Although the energy portion is not my area. The people that fill it would be my domain. \n\n\nI looked out at the dome room or sector. The dome was suppose to be my addition to allow people to feel an endless sky. It is a large glass orbs connected but the sea is incredibly dark. To solve the darkness tentacles of leds streamed upward showering the dark sea in life and made the space seem open and larger. Usually the lights would show nothing but ocean. The lights were now all above us as we were descending and the ship was dragging the tentacles down. A gleam of metal was on the edge of perception. The tenticals would eventually settle on the seafloor, but I wouldn’t see that. \n\n\nAlthough I never was meant to see that. I am just a builder and a ‘surface contractor’, so this was a unique experience. This might be the last one to developed, might be the Chernobyl of our industries. Catastrophic breakdown while developing the structural system or the submarine frame tacoed. A soft creak as the frame folded a little more. But I found myself looking into the darkness wondering if I would see a small light where the hull would break. \nUnfortunately I couldn’t try and glean something about psychology from other doomed passengers. I sat alone in my globe of despair with the echoes of warning buzzards and creaks that echoed through endless chambers. I looked at the small hope that remained of an illuminated number 6. The Elsinore or number 6 of 20 was trying to coordinate with 5 other multi-billion dollar machines to rescue the tacoed number 9. \n\n\nI stared at number 6 remembering my apartment number back in Chicago, the cold windy winters. I wondered if I would feel the rush of the bone chilling water or if pressure would knock me out first. The twentieth sixth of my Mom’s birthday in late April just as her garden started to sprout. I wish I could lay my hands into that dirt one last time. I would trade the view of my demise for one handful of sticky dirt. I heard a louder creek. I saw hands and the bright glow of the red from the number six and I remember feeling the warmth of the sun baked dirt. A smile reached my face as I retreated into my mind as a harsh bang happened. ", "Deeper and deeper we go, natural light has long been replaced by the cold glimmer of our head lights which fail to illuminate more than 10 feet ahead of us. Our ship, submarine Bravo of the armada, is the smallest vessel of the five submarines heading for the exploration mission. My captain and commander, John Porter, is known for his gloomy but steadfast nature and has been decorated in various battles over the years. \n\n\"Bravo, make your 10 minute report. Over.\" I hear the voice of Alpha's second commander and respond with our location. \n\n\"This is Bravo. We are 12,400 feet deep and heading for North by North West. All machines are working fine. Over.\" Porter grunts when I lift my finger off the speaker button, he disapproves of not being in command of the armada. \n\n\"This is Charlie. We are 12,450 feet deep, also heading North by North West. Over.\"\n\n\"This is Delta. We are 13,600 feet deep, heading North West. Over.\"\n\n\"Delta, you are too deep. Slow down and wait for the group. Over.\"\n\n\"This is Echo. We are 13,400 feet...\" But then the connection breaks off and the radio cuts to a monotone buzzing. I look at the radar. One submarine ahead of us, two behind.\n\n\"Sir, I count only four submarines,\" I report to Porter. He leans over and looks at the radar screen. I see his eyes narrow. \n\n\"Alpha, this is Porter. Our radar shows only four submarines. Over,\" Porter speaks into my mic. We wait, but the only sound we hear is a faint buzzing, then it goes silent.\n\n\"Sir, what is happening?\" I ask Porter. \n\nInstead of answering, he pushes down the button again. \"Alpha, this is the captain of Bravo. Our radar shows only four submarines. Do you copy? Over.\" \n\nSilence. Then, a voice emerges. A different voice, unfamiliar to me. \"This is alpha captain Smith. We copy you, Bravo. We see five submarines. Must be an error on your end. Over.\"\n\nI look over to Porter and search his face for what he makes of it. But suddenly, our lights go out, it becomes pitch dark. Before I could speak out, a strong vibration hits our submarine and shakes us. I hear a marine behind us fall to the ground. Our machines stop working, we lose forward speed. Alerted by this, I smash the engine status button and try turning the ignition key but it's stuck. Out of nowhere, I hear a gun shot next to me and the sound temporarily disorients me and starts a loud ringing in my ear. Once I orient myself again with the help of the chair, the lights flicker back on and the machines start working again. I turn around and see our navigator lying on the ground, dead, with a bullet wound to his head. I look up and see Porter putting away a gun.\n\n\"Sir, what happened?\" I almost scream. Instead of answering, he points at the dead man and I see a knife in his hand. I don't understand.\n\n\"Something is off. Something is very wrong.\" Porter says and now looks at me. \"Baker. How many submarines do you count?\" I try to ignore my shaking hands and look again at the radar. Five points are beeping steadily.\n\n\"Sir, there are five sub...\" I start saying but then two of the points vanish. \"No, three. I see only three submarines.\" \n\nPorter looks at me and then scans the room. There is screaming and a loud knock at the door, but he ignores it. \"Baker, you take over navigation.\"\n\nI type into my computer and pull up the navigation tabs. I look at the current commands. \n\n\"Sir, someone put in rapid descent, we are currently at 16,000 feet depth.\" \n\nPorter doesn't respond to me but rather punches on his radio button. \"This is Bravo captain Porter. Alpha, do you copy? We had a temporary machine malfunction and felt strong vibrations. Our radar shows only two submarines. Over.\"\n\nNothing. He looks over to my radar, but again five submarines show up, then eight, then it turns off completely. A light fizzle sounds and smoke emerges from the radar. \n\nAt the same moment, an extremely bright light shines into our cockpit and blinds our eyes. Two seconds later, our submarine shakes again and our lights flicker, but this time they stay on. A voice sounds through the room, moments after.\n\n\"Bravo, this is Echo. Do you hear us? We lost contact to everybody else. We saw a bright light. Our radar shows only three submarines. Do you copy? Over.\"\n\nBut before we could answer, another connection comes in. \n\n\"This is Alpha captain Smith. Bravo, we saw Echo bombard Delta. Delta is down. I repeat, Delta is down. Report your position. Over.\" \n\n----\nto be continued\n\n\n\n\n\n", "There is a darkness you reach at a certain depth that is absolute darkness. The only light you can see is the light reflected back from the little flakes of decomposed marine life that float down through the water like snow. The deeper we got, the less decomposed flakes there were. And as we saw fewer and fewer flakes, they began to look like stars, and us, in the middle of space, floating down through the cosmic darkness further into darkness. \n\nThere had been signals coming up from the depths of the sea. Strange, alien signals. Ones we could not interpret or understand. The military feared they were Russian in origin, that the Russians had conquered the depths of the sea before us. After some skeptical communications exchanges with the Russians we came to the conclusion that it was not them down there sending up the signals. They had no part in it. Our government contacted all the world's governments. No one had any guesses about the origins of the signal. All we knew was that it hailed from the deep--much deeper below surface than any manned submarine had ever gone. \n\nWhen the media got wind, both of the signal, and then of the government's uncertainty regarding its origins, they had a field day. Or rather, a field month, publishing the idiosyncratic speculations of anyone who could form an idea in a sentence. The public was hooked. Everyone wanted to solve the mystery, to tease out the truth of the matter with reason or imagination. Everything from hidden alien portals to the strange articulations of some deep sea monster, awakened after its millennia-long slumber was on the table as a possibility. Scholars and government analysts were hooked too. They had their hypotheses, published them in journals, and spoke academically to one another in stuffy rooms. Everyone, it seemed, was working overtime to figure out what the signal was and what it meant. \n\nIn the midst of this feverish atmosphere of rampant speculation and excitement--and that's what it was, for how often do we, in this day and age, get confronted with genuine mystery?--the United States government began building a fleet of the most advanced submarines ever conceived. It is in one such submarine that I was in, plummeting through the unfathomable darkness towards the answer, closer and closer to the signal. \n\n\"That's strange,\" said Captain Row, the captain of our submarine, which was the first in the formation. He clicked on his speaker. \"Is anyone else getting a pressure drop?\"\n\nI looked out the window at the glimmering flakes suspended in the water like distant stars, galaxies, quasars. \n\n\"And a rapid temperature drop, too,\" said a voice on the speaker. \n\n\"Rodger that,\" said another voice. \n\nIt was indeed getting cold very quickly. And I felt lighter and lighter. I felt almost as if I could float. \n\n\"Let's kill the engines for a minute and recuperate,\" said Captain Row nervously. I could see his breath. There were water droplets on the outside of the submarine that had frozen. Some little shards of ice had broken off the hull and were floating away, through the blackness, towards the glimmering flakes, like stars. \n\nThe captain slowed the engines, but it didn't feel like our momentum changed at all. \n\n\"Captain,\" I said. \n\n\"Yes, yes,\" he said, rapt in concentration.\n\n\"Captain,\" I said more forcefully.\n\nHe turned his head and saw that I and the rest of the crew were floating.\n\n\"What the--\"\n\nHis eyes went wild. He pressed the speaker button. \n\n\"All ships need to turn around. Turn around now! Do you copy?\"\n\nThere was only static. \n\n\"Turn around now! Do you copy?\"\n\nThere was no response. It was getting cold, very cold. The kind of cold that seeps into your bones. \n\n\"Let's turn this around,\" he said, fiddling with his controls, ramping the props back up. But he knew, as I did, that the propellors were built to move us through water, but would be useless in the empty vacuum of deep space. \n\n---\n\n/r/lalalobsters\n" ]	7
	[WP] Your grandpa has died. Whilst clearing his house, you discover a secret compartment of his desk, full of papers documenting his double life.	[ "A small metal piece lay under the lip of the second drawer. Fumbling with it yielded some very interesting results. \nA secret compartment? My mind screamed. \nGranddaddy was an established spy back in the old days, travelling between many countries. He told me stories of wit and fear, tales that took on some dark turns and sometimes were slightly too preposterous to be true.\n\nGranddad also had a knack for finding things during his long walks in the woods. He'd come back with a wooden amulet for my sister one time, or a small shark tooth sculpture another. Indiscernible tools and quirky machinery were littered around his shed.\n\nFiddling with the tab, a soft sliding sound was heard. The drawer popped open slightly. The construction was simple, a slightly deeper compartment lay within the woodwork, with the normal drawer inside the deeper one. \n\nThe papers were kept in thick files. Large warning labels and stampings blanketed the leather covers.\n\nUndoing the binding, i slowly poured the contents onto the table, sorting and arranging them.\n\nI stood in shock. I stood in awe.\n\nThe folder was his lifelong secret, his massive and final collection.\nApproximatley 5 kilograms of furry porn lay in front of me, resourced from his contacts, from around the world.", "Even though its long I hope you will like this text. Feel free to criticise, I would be very grateful. If you want more stories pm me:\n\nI stood in the cold of the morning before the house, looking at the old shack, where my Grandpa used to live the last years. My good old man lived far away from civilisation in the forests of Blackburn Mountain, Alaska. Our whole family never understood his decision to not stay with us in Detroit. Some even called him a madman. I never did.\n\nWhile I pushed the heavy door open, my nose was greeted by a thick aroma of vanilla tobacco and paper. Memories flooded my brain. Gramps always used to smell like this. He raised me for a big portion of my live, until I was fifteen I believe. While he once worked as a clerk for insurance companies, which I thought of to be a very very boring profession, he never quite seemed like an accountant clerk to me. I still remember him making me dinner, mostly porridge and then telling me a bedtime story. Even after he left I told stories to myself, dreaming of adventures.\n\nI closed the door. The interior of the shack, it was only one big room, was as cold as outside. There were three windows, one at the front and two at the sides, which all shed light on one Bed, which stood right next to a tile stove at the back of the room. The other significant parts of this little home of him were one wardrobe, one very old worktable with a chair, and one shelf with a few books. It all just seemed so empty.\n\nAfter I put down my clothes on the bed and tried to create a fire in the stove, I remembered how the funeral was. The people in the village nearby didn't really know him. He just came in the morning, stayed there at a restaurant for the rest of the day eating and writing and then left when the sun was about to set. I was the only person at his burial. My parents didn't have the time to drop by. They never developed a good relationship with him. \nI think the main reason of this conflict was that my mother was raised alone without him and blamed him for the rest of his life because of that. Even my older sister didn't come. Just me, fresh out of college, with no job, and not knowing what I want to do with my life.\n\nThe fire started burning and I felt how everything around me got warmer and more comfy. I didn't know what I was searching for when I started looking around. The books on the shelf were mainly philosophical books. Nothing interesting. His wardrobe on the other hand was exceptional. I never saw as many pieces of pricy clothing at once. He even had coats and weirder stuff like traditional African clothing. That was very weird. Why would he need those Pieces, and how came he to acquire them? I never thought he had enough money. \n\nI found myself suddenly being very excited about this. I don't know why, but little things like that make my imagination fly like an eagle. I remember how most of my friends called me a dreamer. Never disagreed on that part. The other parts of his wardrobe were, to my disappointment, pretty normal. Maybe he just liked to collect this stuff, \nI told myself. Then I sat down at the work desk.\n\nThe desk was pretty empty, there was only one ballpoint pen and a few empty sheets of paper. I tried pulling out the drawer of the desk. Closed. I tried pulling again. Closed. \nI started pulling with all my might. Tightly shut. There had to be a key. I started searching for it. Most people never cared about such things, but his wardrobe piqued my interest what more I could find, and now I was a wolf searching for his prey.\n\nI don't know how long I searched, but the sun was already way over the zenith when I found the key. It was hanging at the wall, right next to the desk. I'm an idiot.\nThe drawer opened slowly, probably was already frozen. Inside I found a journal, a book titled \"The Seven Points\", probably about Business Administration, and a letter. It was addressed to me. I teared it apart and started reading, anxious to see what was inside. Why was it addressed to me? Did he know I would come? What if I wouldn't even have found it? \n\n\"Dear Grandson, \nI hope you will read this letter as soon as possible. I feared you wouldn't find the one I put in my desks drawer, so I also gave one to my lawyer.\" I did find this one, I thought. Though I didn't quite understand why he would address a letter only to me, and why he would put so much effort in multiplying those, when he just could have sent it to my home.\n\n\"Even though I may be not alive anymore when you read those lines, I just wanted to thank you for the time I had with you. It was great seeing you grow up and struggle through life. This time you gifted me, was time I never had with your mother. She probably still hates me for that. Sadly I found myself unable to apologise or explain. That's why I had to leave the family before our conflict would start to tear everyone apart.\" At this point, I already felt myself touched by the carefully selected words he used. My teacher in elementary school once called him a real gentleman. I kind of picked that up and started imitating him. \nMy mother always hated that part of me.\n\n\"The reason why I wrote this letter is not only to thank you, my dear, but also to give you counsel.\" I already started rolling my eyes, that anyone else would have feared they would fall out of my eye sockets. I didn't need more advice. All my life my parents told me to start making money. My sister really picked up on that and worked as a manager at the company of my father. I didn't. You could call me the black sheep of the family. But I still was curios and continued reading.\n\n\"I know you should probably pursue your job. Should probably start making money and start living the good life.\" Yup, that's wat they told me. \"But in lack of a better phrase; Fuck it.\" Now this was new to me, \nI thought, Gramps rarely used such words. \n\n\"You have to chase your dreams. You have to make your own decisions. My life was not that what you think it was. I never was an accountant clerk. That was a not so very well crafted lie of mine, because well, you know, I suck at maths.\" I chuckled. That was my old man. \"I also lived the live of a commoner, or normal person. When I was young I dreamed of adventure, but also didn't really put any effort into pursuing those dreams. But when my daughter was born, your mother, and the single good thing I did in my life, I needed money. At this time I was basically penniless and didn't have any work. Your mother was just so unexpected, and even if I loved your Grandma, I told her I had work to do.\" What did you work then, I asked him, even though I knew he couldn't hear me.\n\n\"I fled from my responsibility as a father, my biggest mistake, and started working overseas. I can't count what I did, just to not be at home. I worked on an oil rig, hunted elephants, and even worked for more shady organisations. All this while sending letters with money to my family, which never truly was mine. You can see already that I never worked in London as a clerk for my whole life. I lived my life all over the place. It was my gravest mistake leaving your mother, but my best decision to live the way I did.\" I felt many confusing feelings at the same time. Anger at his mistakes, confused about why he never told us, but then I realised, no one would have believed his stories.\n\n\"But now I want to give you something, that I didn't give your mother. I want to give you a choice. In Alaska, in the very shack that I live, you'll find a journal which is completely empty and a book filled with useful Information like contacts of mine in the drawer of my desk. Furthermore you will find a suitcase under my bed with a purse in it, which should have a respectable sum of money in different currencies. Take what you need from my home, if you want to travel, if you want to live a life, that is adventurous. The choice is yours.\nLove,\nGramps.\"\n\nI felt a tear in my eye. It wasn't the fact that I was a crybaby, but his honesty and his last gift touched me like nothing ever did before. I felt angry at him. My mother didn't deserve this. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. My Gramps probably was not the person to raise a child. And he tried to make that up with me.\n\nNow I had a choice. I didn't need to be a manager. I could just realise what my dreams were made of. Far untouched landscapes before me. Not a computer desk. The fire I made already burned down like the sun outside and I started freezing when I made my decision. \n\nI was at Ted Stevens Anchorage International Airport in Alaska when I called my Dad. \n\"Son? When are you coming back? I have a job interview organised for you.\" He asked in his hounded tone that he always used.\n\"Sorry Father. I won't come back to America.\" I told him reluctantly. My father was quite dominant.\n\"What do you mean? You'll have to work when you want to live the good life!\" He said irritated. \"I'm doing a vacation. Sorry my flight to Singapore is about to start. I need to go. Say hi to mom from me.\" I said as fast as I could. \"Wait a sec-\" Click. I turned off my phone and started heading into the future. My name doesn't matter, because we all have a choice.\n\n\n\n\n" ]	2
Thought it would be a funny loophole.	[WP] It's true that vampires need to be invited in to enter a house. Unfortunately, most people have welcome mats.	[ "Lot as changed truout the centuries, now in the 21 century one only needs to pretend to be a shut-in, a nurce with bad shifts or even work from home to not be suspected by the puny humans.\nBut not me, I although careful, enjoy drinking more than blood bags from hospitals, it is to easy to simply steal blood that way.\nI work as a psychiatrist a more old school method to gather victim's but it works like a charm.\nThe mind control abilities are incredibly useful, sometimes to stop a suicide others to choose my one pacients only the tastiest ones of course.\nA suicide or disappearing may be justified by a depression, an nowadays with welcome mats I can even enter some houses to make a suicide more credible.\nWhat a great time to be a vampire...\n", "\"Look at it. It's charming.\"\n\n\"I think you've missed the entire point of our calling, James.\"\n\nJames Van Helsing held up the prototype that was now being churned out on a massive laser printer outside his office. It was a thick welcome mat with a scene of cherubic chickadees in the boughs of a blooming jacaranda. \n\nHis sister frowned.\n\n\"It's horribly trite.\"\n\n\"Precisely. They'll love it. And it's cheap! Cheaper than anything on the market.\"\n\nHe pointed to a whorl in the wood of the branch. \"Look, you see that?\"\n\n\"I see a branch.\"\n\n\"Look closer.\"\n\nEve took the mat from her brother's hands and brought it to her eyes for proper evaluation. The whorls steadied into letters and she read them aloud.\n\n\"GTFO.\"\n\n\"It's brilliant!\" James laughed at his ingenuity. \"All the gentle souls will buy it because it's useful and sweet and five dollars less than anything else on the shelf.\"\n\n\"I think our forefathers are spinning in their graves.\"\n\n\"We're all cremated. To the last.\"\n\n\"Turn of phrase, James.\" Eve sighed. \"I think vampire hunters are supposed to be at the business of hunting.\"\n\n\"Ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. My vampire awareness campaign fell flat, but this,\" he flicked the edge of the mat with his finger, \"This is going to save lives.\"\n\n\"Hm.\"\n\nHis sister looked at the birds with their dark plump cheeks, then scanned the walls of the warehouse office. Dozens of mats both cheeky and saccharine made a strange tapestry. There were cats, unicorns, blatant 'Go Away' mats, seashells, camouflage... all with finely scrawled words of dismissal hidden in their flourishes.\n\n\"'A House of Learned Doctors'?\" she pointed to the mat, \"What's that?\"\n\n\"You need to get out more, Eve. It's from a movie.\"\n\nEve shrugged, \"Sure.\"\n\nEve dropped the mat on her brother's cluttered desk. A pantone swatch booklet fanned and invoices fluttered. These were not the tools of a proper hunter. She opened a notebook of fonts her brother used for reference in the design process. He was still a luddite in some senses. All Helsing were.\n\n\"So, shall I call you James Van Helvetica after this?\"\n\n\"I like Folio if we're getting picky.\" He removed the mat from his desk. \"And you're going to call me genius in six months.\" He grinned, showing the tooth a vampire had chipped with a cudgel, \"Promise.\"\n", "The moon shines brightly in the skies. \nA dark figure walks by and stops to look at each house in this suburb. \nMore specific, the figure inspects each front door. \nHe seems to be looking for something. \n \nAt the fourth home on the left side, he stops. \nAn evil grin shows on his face. \nThe moonlight reflects on his fangs. \nHe picks up the doormat. \n \nWelcome \n \nHe reaches for the doorknob. \nSilently the door opens. \nOnce inside, the man closes the door softly. \nA few minutes later, he leaves again. \n \nThe family inside will never wake again. \nWoman, husband and child have fallen prey to darkness. \nCarbon monoxide poisoning is the official cause of death. \nBut we know better. \n \nEveryone knows a vampire can only enter a home if he is invited. \nSo why would anyone invent a doormat which welcomes you? \nNo sane human would do that. \nIt takes a vampire.\n" ]	3
	[WP] You work at a company that carefully monitors one's dreams. It is a job that you've always wanted, until you get placed in the Nightmare Department.	[ "I've had to up my therapist visits to 4 times a week. I can't believe how fucked up some people are. What I've seen could make anyone go mad. My coworkers are always white as ghosts none of them talk, they just... stare, it's like they aren't even human. They take no breaks, just sit there and watch. I can feel myself start to go insane, everywhere I go I can feel eyes staring. After a while I have started to get the nightmares too. But they comfort me, kidnapped, raped, eaten alive, all of it. One of my coworkers finally made a noise, she screamed. Desperately clawing on the ground like she had gone mad. Some staff got her but they were too calm about it. This was not the first time this had happened and I knew it. A month has gone by and I can't take it anymore, 4 more people went mad. I've decided to run away, go without work for a while but it hasn't worked. I still visit my therapist but now it's everyday, I've been prescribed every drug in the book now but none of it has worked. I don't sleep anymore, I'm afraid of what I will see, but not for much longer. I bought a knife for self protection somewhere along the line. It's used for something else now though, I feel my blood poring out of my body and I can only smile. My demons haunt me no longer, I'M FREE!" ]	1
	[WP] Between the ages of 12 to 21 everyone gets a magical power. If you can do 1 good deed, you get to keep your power. The more good deeds, the stronger your power becomes. Somehow your useless power has become the strongest ever.	[ "\"Thank you, sir.\"\n\nThe world is populated by superheros. People who got blessed with the most versitile powers and realized they could do great deads. Most went straight to find the nearest bank robery or mugging and stop it, assuring they will keep their power.\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\nI was not so fortunate, my power isn't bad, it just doesn't have any use that makes me effective in saving anyone. Nobody made fun of me, despite being the weakest in my class. I was the nice kid, never really popular, but everyone knew me and I was always willing to help.\n\n\"Oh! Thanks.\"\n\nDespite the fact that it serves no purpose, my power stuck because of my good nature. I didn't stop a mugging, catch a bad guy or anything that would get noticed in the newspaper. Turns out when our teachers and parents said that we had to do good deeds, the definition was a lot more broad than hero work. My dad seemed to understand that though.\n\n\"I appriciate it, thanks.\"\n\nHe saw the small things I did everyday, holding the door, lending an ear for someone who needed to talk, returning something someone dropped. He was sure that when my power came in I would become the strongest person ever. He wasn't even upset when he learned what my power was, he was just as excited for me as he ever was.\n\n\"Thanks for the help last week,\"\n\nSo what is this power that has been growing more powerful by the day? It is simple and most people don't even realize that they are effected by it because it is such a natural reaction for them. Whenever I help someone, even in the most trivial way, they are compelled to say, 'thank you'.\n\nI still am the nice one where I work, and everyone in my neighborhood likes me just fine. People don't treat me any differently when I tell them what my power is, more often they tell me that they think it is a good fit and that I must be happy to always have a small reward for my good deeds.\n\n\"I couldn't have done it without you, thanks.\n\nThe worst part of my power is knowing that it is in someways compelling the people I help to say thank you, making me feel like the words are hollow. I should stop making things sound depressing. Today is my birthday after all, my wife even said she has a surprise in store for me, something really special.\n\n\"Hey, here he comes, get in your places!\"\n\nI round the corner onto the street my wife told me we would be meeting at and I see hundreds of people gathered, all of them looking straight at me.\n\n\"Happy Birthday!\" They all scream. I am overwhelmed at first, but when I start looking closer there are many people I recognize. In fact I have seen all of these people before. They are all people I've helped, the lady I helped carry her grocieries to her car, my best friend Jack who I spent a week helping with home repairs, the kid who I found as a runaway that I convinced to go home to his parents. Seeing that my wife had managed to get everyone here to wish me well on my birthday was overwhelming. With tears of joy on my face, there were only two wors that could form in my head.\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\n(This is my first attempt at a writing prompt and even though this one is not the newest it made me want to write.)" ]	1
	[WP] A leviathan egg hatches on board a ship. It's mother can hear it.	[ "EU (Bloodborne) \n\nDo you hear it...? \n\nplip plop plip plop \n\nThere is something drawing close to this little fishing hamlet, our home. There is a vast shadow in the wake of our boat that extends like a valley in the ocean. \n\nsplish splash splish splash \n\nI hear it when I am on the deck, drifting about in a white fog. I hear it in my bunk, water dripping and collecting inside my dreams. \n\nDo you hear the sound of water?\n\nThere is a vast river underneath the sea. She is calling for us to take the Child, her egged child. We set a bucket into the dark waves and the river gave us a gift, a great white orb filled with eyes and teeth and pearlescent slug.\n\nDo you hear the tiny cracks of the orb, together with each flutter of your heart? \n\nThe orb is spilling, gushing pale moonlit blood. We set it into the sea, beside the great shadow in the bay of our fishing village. She is pleased with us, so pleased. \n\nShe blesses us with much fish. She blesses us with the deep calm of the ocean. She blesses us with the pearlescent slugs, her servants who slide deep into our bodies and our souls. \n\nAh...Mother Kos, she who flutters like Deep Moonlight in our bay. When will you birth our true salvation? Our key into your Dream? \n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP]The emotionial backlash of breaking a relationship releases energy viable to power power plants. The stronger the relationship, good or bad, the more energy is released.	[ "It was only evening, but it may as well have been midnight for how dark it was. Snowflakes fell I held her hand in mine and the wind froze both, but I could not let go. The street lights overhead occasionally flickered, and every so often a street sign would flash as we walked towards the power plant. I didn't trust myself to say anything; the slightest word could send me back the way I'd come.\n\nThe powerplant was in view now, a looming shadow. It had been closed for over a day now. I could just barely make out the skyline behind us. Somewhere in that town, doctors worked in the dark to save a little girl's life\n\nHuman emotion has been a source of power for artist over thousands of years now, but a few decades ago science took it one step further. They were able to generate physical energy out of emotion. Far more efficiently than any other resource, renewable or otherwise.\n\nThis came at a price though, the only emotion strong enough to generate enough power for a town this size was the emotion that came with severing a bond, and it had to be fresh. The pain of losing a loved one, or elation at escaping a toxic relationship, it didn't matter as long as it was strong enough. The results were amazing. In our hubris, we'd abandoned every other form of energy.\n\nAnd gradually, we ran out of bonds to break. Soon, there were few friends, few lovers who could separate to power our schools, and buildings.\n\nOur hospitals.\n\nWe we supposed to receive some people who would break the bond from the next town over, but The weather insisted other wise.\n\nTwo weeks later, there are no remaining bonds to speak of, none strong enough to power the building, save one.\n\nI stared into my wife's eyes, as soft as the moonlight streaming in through the window and yet dry.\n\nI did my best to memorize every detail of her face, but it was difficult through the tears filling my vision.\n\nShe brushed them away with a sweep of her fingers and pulled my head into her chest. “I'm sorry you had to be the one to do this. I just want you to know that I don't blame you for a thing. You've sacrificed so much for this family, but I promise, when I see you again, I'll find a way to make it up to you. Just promise me that won't be too soon okay? You hold more than one life in your hands.”\n\n“I promise.” I said. “Anything for Anna.”\n\n“Alright.” There was no fear in her voice. “I love you.”\n\n“I love you too.” I said. The air was still for sometime. I closed my eyes and clenched the blade in my hand tight.\n\n-\n\nI left the building alone and I looked down on my city. The lights flickered like the stars overhead, but I only cared about one building. \n\nIt may have been my imagination but the hospital shone the brightest of all, a ray of light in the heart of the city. Somewhere in that hospital, a little girl would be alright.\n" ]	1
	[WP] Four siblings from a talented family, Oscar, Emmy, Tony and Grammy are arguing which of them is the most accomplished.	[ "\"It depends how you define success\" Grammy interrupted. \"What use are all your talents when you don't have any friends. From the very beginning of school I always was the most popular kid of all. I had, still have, and will always, have the most friends everywhere we go. When I need anything done, I always have a friend to call upon, and they will always deliver, no matter what the task, because everyone likes me so much. As soon as I had my facebook account created for me at the age of three, I had more friends than not only all of you, but than everyone at all the schools we have attended. Not just facebook, but all social media accounts. Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr. I barely put any effort into the tweets I write, but then again, I don't have to, as it doesn't matter what I write, as everyone will adore me. The photos I take are mediocre too, I just use the first filter I see.\" \"What about the nobel prize for medicine I won for curing prostate cancer?\" Oscar said. \"What about winning the UFC heavyweight championship at fifteen years of age?\" Tony proclaimed. \"What about winning the nobel peace prize for resolving the Israeli-Palestinian conflict\" pronounced Emmy. \"How many Instagram followers do you all have\" asked Grammy. The three blushed in silence. " ]	1
	[WP] ...They're right behind me aren't they?	[ "I walked briskly up to the shop clerk in the cookie aisle and tapped him on the shoulder.\n\n\"Where's the Oreos at?\"\n\nWithout muttering a word he pointed a finger over my shoulder. Sweat ran down the side of my face as all the heat in my body vanished.\n\n\"...they're right behind me... aren't they?\"\n" ]	1
	[WP] You can feel it in your body whenever you do something for the last time, and now you're getting the feeling alarmingly often.	[ "I was born with a unique talent. It took me a long time to figure it out. Randomly I would get a queasy feeling throughout my whole body. It almost felt as if my body was having a minor earthquake. It took me years to conclude what was the cause of these movements. Sometimes I would get them when I was saying goodbye to a friend, who would pass away before I would see them again. Some of them were peaceful deaths, whereas others were more violent, so I will gloss over the details. When my family would move from a home I would get the shakes as we packed up the house. After years and years of confusion, I finally concluded that my body could tell when it was the last time I would do something.\n\nEvery year my work sends me east for meeting and other business bullshit. While I dislike the work, it is always nice to visit the cities and experience the nightlife. It is my first morning here. I decide to go for a walk, so that I can take in the sights and views.\n\nEven though the sun has just risen, the temperatures soars like the glorious bald eagle. The heat swelters. The sidewalk sizzles softly much like my pan when I'm baking bacon. The bustling of traffic begins its daily buzz. It makes me miss the bees a buzzing around the meadows in my backyard. I imagine the cars darting about amongst the building much like the bees zooming around the flowers. The red and purple of the morning sky reflected off of the golden domes, making the entire city look like wildflowers. As I walk past each area of the city, I get the queasy uneasy feeling in my stomach that this will be the last time that I will be doing this. Not even two miles from the hotel, I'm sick to my stomach. This is not good! I'm scheduled to stay here for another week. That means I will most likely die soon. Half a mile later, my body is shaking violently. The sounds of the bustling city become more distant and seem like distant echoes. The shadows become longer. Colors lost their vividness as everything slowly turned white and black. My legs suddenly become wobbly as if I had just taken multiple tequila shots. I drop the the ground and a cloud of dust circles over me.\n\nI awake in a bright white room. The light is blinding. I hear the steady drip-drip of liquid. The whirling of electricity hums through the still air. I think back to the quick hummingbirds at my house. As I think of the hummingbirds, I think about my walk about the city. What had happened? As I awake groggily, a mysterious figure walked into the room. The figure seeing that I was awake, said to me in a harsh raspy voice,\" You are lucky to be alive.You were found convulsing and having spasms. Instantly you were transported home to the United States. You narrowly missed all the nuclear bombs that President Trump sent to the Middle East. It is now a desolate wasteland.\"\n\n\nI got lazy towards the end as I'm doing this at my internship on my break. Hope it made someone laugh." ]	1
	[WP] Your older sibling that is now in college, put in a "good word" for you at your high school. It's the first day of school and all of your teachers seem very afraid of you.	[ "I fucking hate sign in day. dont you? you stand in a line, and dneed to say you're name aloud in front of everyone. People laugh at your stupid name, they always do. It should be fine, though. my sister put in \"a good word\". I walk up, and pick up the mic. \"um... hi. my name is wendy kira yagami?\" this is odd. the room is silent. hustly and bustly ended. a chill has fallen, like i have said the name of the ancient one. what the hell did she do?" ]	1

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