Split (1)

train · 199k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 8 314	comment_texts listlengths 1 74	num_stories int64 1 74
	[WP] you find out that your identity has been stolen, but realize that your credit score is improving, what do you do?	[ "I'd finally given in and decided to take Karla down to the lot and look at a new car. The corolla has been nice but it's on it's last leg and honestly you can only get away with \"it's so nice not having a car payment\" for so long. After all even though I've been driving that beat up old Volkswagen, she's been stuck with hers just as long.\n\nWe walked on to the lot and I already knew they were going to try to stiff me on the trade in. I'd only paid ten thousand for it, but I just finished paying it off and I couldn't imagine taking a grand or two just to know they'd auction it for four or five.\n\nWe looked at the newer fords, the ones with the back up cameras and the fancy heated seats. God what I'd give to have heated seats during these blistering cold winters. Karla saw a shiny white one with nice leather and \"chrome\" type trim on the inside and that was that.\n\nWe weren't exactly well off, but we weren't too bad either. I mean I'm 19 and she had just turned 18. I'd enlisted a few years prior so we had a steady income. The only thing that worries me was my credit. I still didn't know how it worked exactly but I did know that shortly after I turned 18 I'd accrued some medical bills that I'd ignored. That semester in college probably was on there too. But how bad could it be? I mean I have that card at the base uniform store, that has to help it. And Karla hasn't had any time to mess hers up. \n\nSurprisingly the salesman was quite charming and not pushy one bit, if anyone was pushy it was the wife. This was the car she wanted and I knew better to try and differ. \n\nWe went for a spin and quickly spun into the leather office chairs in front of the salesman's desk. He'd done a once around on our Toyota and was already ball parking it around 4K, which I'll admit I was pleasantly surprised. \n\nAfter 20 or so minutes of back and forth on forms, his running to the copier, and me doing some calculations on my phone I figured I was ready to start the negotiation. This was my first purchase but I definitely felt there was a deal to be made. After all, I was in the military and had a steady paycheck, credit or no credit. I finally talked them up to 4500 for the trade in and we started going over financing options. \n\nI was prepared for the worst. I'd read about the shady dealers outside of base charging 17% interest on auto loans, and that was for good credit. Although this was a ford dealership I figured no credit, the highest I would accept was 9%.\n\nI was firm on that number. I went over it in my head again. \"4,500 down for the trade in, 1,500 cash.... steady income.... look for 5-6%.\"\n\nJohn came back with a smile from ear to ear and told us we'd been approved. He started to say \"and we don't even need a...\" that's when I stopped him\n\nI explained \"we have the money for a down payment, I'm not interested in even a point of a percentage more as a trade off\".\n\nThat's when he stammered. He explained no down payment would be necessary and we qualified for not only a 2.99% apr but a 1,500 dollar rebate as well. \n\nNeedless to say I was ecstatic! I can't explain how quickly I signed that paperwork. Karla and I took our document and drove off the lot promptly.\n\nOnce I arrived home I took my fire safe document box and started to file each one away in its proper place, reading again carefully to make sure I didn't miss anything. I finally came across the credit disclosure; seeing as I hadn't actually checked my credit I decided to take a peak. \n\n\"Capitol one: opened 2003, balance $173.68, available credit $7,826.32\". \n\nI stopped. Wait when did I get a credit card?\n\nI continued down the page....\n\n\"Supreme lending: mortgage: balance $162,527\"\n\nWhat kind of mix up is this? I live in a two bedroom condo, with no car payment, no credit cards, nothing. Who's credit dislocate do I have exactly?\n\nI scanned back to the heading... my name, my birthday, my last four. But my phone number and address weren't correct.\n\nMy score..... there's no way. Every estimate I tried online put me in the high 5's or low 6's, there's no way I had a 798. I've only been old enough to have credit for a year and a half. There was obviously some kind of mistake. \n\nAgain I went back to the details and I noticed the address wasn't far from me. I pulled my phone up and used maps. 7.8 miles. That's not far at all. I headed to the car and set my destination. \n\nAs I was driving I noticed I'd never been to this part of town before, the roads got narrower, the houses started to get bigger as I passed the historic district and then started to spread out as I neared the islands of the Inter-coastal waterways. \n\nThis was definitely a nicer part of town... " ]	1
	[WP] You are at Pont Nerf square near Notre Dame in Paris, and start admiring the thousands of padlocks that lovers have attached to the bridge. As you look at the names, you see your full name and date of birth on the front of a small padlock, and a email address on the back.	[ "One of the stops she just HAD to go and see was the \"bridge with the locks on it.\"\n\nWe strolled through the semi-dark of dusk toward one of the most popular attractions in Paris. The Pont des Artes bridge. A bridge that couples put locks on to symbolize their never ending love for each other. \n\n\"Okay\" I laughed. I had made her wait to the last night to go to the bridge. Partially because I thought it was kinda stupid and partially because making her wait amused me. \n\nShe laughed as she skipped along the bridge looking for an open link to attach the lock to while I snapped pictures of her and the surrounding area in the half-light. The area really was beautiful with the purples, oranges, and yellows splashed along the buildings on either side of the river. You could just see the two towers of Notre Dame descending into darkness. \n\n\"Hey babe...\" She sounded confused.\n\n\"Yeah?\" I answered, still snapping pictures.\n\n\"Have you ever been here before?\" She asked, still confused.\n\nI looked up, \"no...why?\" I asked, starting to feel uneasy.\n\n\"This one has your name and birthday on it.\" She replied.\n\nI turned on my phone's flashlight since darkness had just about set in and looked at the lock.\n\nIt was like any other padlock you could buy at any hardware store in America. The only difference was it had my full name, date of birth, and, as I turned it over, an email address etched neatly and simply into the metal.\n\nI snapped a picture of the lock and without a word, grabbed my wife's hand and led her straight back to our hotel.\n\n\"Is this some kind of joke?\" I asked, half-serious.\n\n\"Of course not!\" she yelled.\n\n\"Should I email the address?\" I asked. \n\n\"I wouldn't.\" she said simply.\n\nI sighed and turned to the table where I had laid the lock. I picked it up and turned it over in my hands. email.me@yahoo.com\n\n\"Can you hack someone just through an email?\" I asked.\n\nMy wife worked in IT and had some experience with different types of malware and such.\n\n\"I don't think so...\" she started. \"I think if you open any attachments that contain viruses then you get in trouble.\"\n\n\"Okay...let's do it.\" I said.\n\nI opened my laptop, opened my email account, and composed a new message.\n\nHello. I found the lock with my name on it.\n\nI looked at my wife, she shrugged, so I sent it.\n\nAlmost immediately a response appeared in my inbox. We looked at each other again and I clicked it open.\n\nHello David, I wondered when you might find this message, if ever. I've been waiting a long time for this.\n\nI responded. A long time for what?\n\nAnother immediate reply. To meet you and your wife.\n\nBy this time my wife is between insisting we call the cops and trying to shut the computer off.\n\nI hold her off and send another reply. Who are you?\n\nAnother message appeared, almost before I'd sent mine. I am the one who is going to save your life." ]	1
	[WP] 5 months ago you spotted a woman and fell hopelessly in love with her even though you never spoke to her. With the one picture you had of her you started your quest to find the love of your live. Today you finally found her.	[ "- True Story -\n\nThis happened to me while I was practicing figure drawing. I was using an online reference website and her face popped up. I sat there for a half-hour just staring at her, she was so beautiful. After searching for her using reverse image searches, translating my way through Russian websites and forums and searching through social sites, I found the photographer who took the picture. From there it was fairly easy to find the name of the woman in the picture and eventually I found her Instagram profile.\n\nHer account was private, so I requested to follow her. After nearly a week of waiting, I decided that she must have declined, so I changed my profile picture and tried again. Within a few hours, she accepted.\n\nAnd honestly, this woman was amazing. She messaged first. She had a sense of humour. She knows who she is. She thinks others and is happy to talk about anything. She helped me learn Russian (Though, I'm still a beginner) and she was very patient if I got something wrong. We shared stories about our lives and had an amazing time talking to each other. \n\nI can't say I love her in the way that this Word Prompt suggests, even though it felt like it at the beginning. Instead, she's become one of my greatest friends, which I think is worth so much more. And if I ever go to Russia, I know I have a place to stay. Likewise, if she visits Canada.\n\nIt's incredible to think that if my aunt hadn't given me a writing tablet for Christmas, I never would have been practicing my drawing. I never would have been on the reference website. I never would have seen the picture of the woman, and I never would have found her and gotten to know her.\n\nThe world is a wonderful and mysterious place, which is often forgotten because of all the terrible things that are happening each day. All it takes for me to remember the goodness of the world is to think of Marina, and everything she's done for me." ]	1
	[WP] Strange mushrooms have started growing around the world following a volcanic eruption in the South Pacific. Hailed as a super food by scientists, people start eating them. It's only years later that the side effects begin.	[ "There was a pounding in my head, beating my temples to a bloody pulp. I could barely find the balance to stand, my peripherals shimmered and wavered, lights became blinding.\n\nMy balance disappeared within an instant, my body exploded in pain as I fell forward, something coursing through me that kept me awake. \n\nIt felt like fire, I scrambled to my feet and ducked into an alleyway, shakily drawing out a bottle of morphine and readying to administer it. My head exploded and the bottle fell to the ground, the clear liquid slowly trickling into the storm drain.\n\nI stared, or tried to, in horror as the pain grew to unbearable levels. I felt my heart pounding against my chest at a surprisingly steady rate.\n\nMy knees began to buckle, my body could not stay up. On my hands and knees, I twisted around onto my back and lay there, desperately trying to keep breathing.\n\nAn eternity passed until a new sensation overcame me, like millions of needles slowly pushing out of your skin, followed by a sudden heaviness from the area just above my skin. It felt like hair... my own hair seemed to grow, it was hard to mistake that sensation at least.\n\nI felt a... changing... I felt parts of my skeleton moving around, growing in some areas and breaking in others, morphing all the same. It went on for a few minutes, though they felt like years, until an overpowering bloodlust descended onto me. There was a ripping sound, like clothing.\n\nI coughed an inhuman sounding cough, growled like an animal as I twisted myself up onto my silver-furred hands and knees, my once-nails, now claws, tapping against the concrete. My mind, clouded with an otherworldly feeling of trauma, reeled in horror as I stared at the fur coating my arms.\n\nMy eyes trailed down, indeed, my entire body had grown a thick coat of silver fur. I noticed a lengthy snout protruding from the bottom of my vision, a canine nose at its tip. My senses felt sharper, my body in pain yet filled with otherworldly strength.\n\nA voice in my head sounded out, thoughts I did not think to ever think, echoed through my mind. Kill... Feast... drink the blood... soak your claws in flesh... God help me... It felt so... appealing\n\nThe world grew red, a single body beyond the dumpster I hid behind highlighted in various colours as it struggled to stand. Prey... incapacitated prey... suffering like I did.\n\nI stood, my body resorting to a hunched over posture, taking a step forward when my senses returned. I reeled back from the body, I did not want to kill her, I am no monster! \n\nThe other me seemed to roar, my head pounded as I tried desperately to resist this new personality's influence. I collapsed, clenching my fist and digging my claws into my palm as I held onto my sanity with all my might. After a while, it gave up, I let out a heavy sigh of relief as the weight of it lifted off of my shoulders. The true colours of the world returned.\n\nShakily, I pushed myself up, barely noticing the similairly furred individual before me. Though shorter, it was almost a mirror image of what I assume I had become. Its scent was almost identical to the woman on the ground earlier.\n\nHer body had adopted the same beastly position, her eyes bloodshot with a trace of humanity left in them. Her arms had extended, a series of claws decorating the tips of her fingers, though her fur was a darker colour. A thin tail hung from her backside, slightly adorned with ripped cloth.\n\nHer head had changed the most, adopting a slight wolf-like appearance with a vaguely human look. A pair of canine ears stuck up from the sides of her head.\n\nShe looked confused and distressed, approaching with a series of confused but curious sniffs, though any fool could feel the horrified and scared aura surrounding her. \n\nSome instinct made me lower my arms, showing a friendliness. She darted forward, embracing me as her human side seemingly began to sob in almost depressed confusion. I felt like I had always known her. I wanted to reassure her, wanted to say that it would be ok, but all that came out was an almost silent howl. \n\nDespite this, she responded as if I had actually said it, nodding in that state of distress. She replied with what sounded like a bark, though I felt some deep part of me understanding her. \n\nShe stepped back and around me, leaping onto my back, her arms around my neck. A thought emerged, perhaps an old bestial instinct, and I dashed back into the alley on all fours.\n\nI didn't quite know why, nor did I know how it had happened, but some part of me begged me into the city outskirts. It begged me to to inland, away from the city and into a more natural setting.\n\nDimly... I felt a rather disappointed self hiding within me, waiting for something. The one begging me to kill, the bloodlust. I feared it, resolving to keep it under control." ]	1
	[WP] Today, the earth has stopped turning. Scientists are baffled as one side of the planet is caught in eternal day while the other is plunged into eternal night.	[ "On January 25 2017, the Earth was spinning at a little over 1000 MPH. Until it wasn't.\n\nThe atmosphere continued to swirl around the Earth at 1000 MPH, creating atomic force winds scouring the surface of anything and everything not attached to the bedrock.\n\nThe inertia of the sea carries mile-high tsunamis over 17 miles inland in under 1 minute.\n\nOne earth day now takes 365 days to complete. 6 months of scorching solar radiation, followed by 6 months of frigid arctic nights. The sun rises in the west and sets in the east, just once every year.\n\nOver time, the centrifugal forces on the Earth reshape it's surface, creating a band of continents across its equator with two super oceans surrounding its North and South sides.\n\nThe Earth's magnetic field fades, leaving the surface of the planet exposed to dangerous cosmic rays. The oceans boil away and the land turns to ash.\n\nThere were no scientists left to observe this phenomenon." ]	1
What happens now?	[WP] The date is 25/01/2018 and the last female human has died.	[ "\nGeorge sat in the chair with both legs hugged to his chest. Darkness clouded his face as he stared blankly forward. A few feet away, another man, a detective, paced back and forth before the desk which separated them. His hands were folded behind his back, and a deep pensive look was resolute upon his face. A large tinted window on the west side of the room, and a lone metal door on the east were the only disturbances from the whitewashed cinderblock walls. The pacing man’s footsteps were only interrupted by the muted rumblings which were just audible through the floor-to-ceiling pane of glass.\n\n“I won’t lose my friends to protect you George. I can’t ask them to make that sacrifice for you. I sent all the officers off site. This facility is now abandoned.” George heard the words, yet said nothing to defend himself. His eyes didn’t so much as flicker. “George, they see you as the traitor to the entire world. Do you not understand what you have done? You just committed euthanasia on humanity.” The man leaned across the table as he said this, studying George carefully for a reaction. George took a deep breath and pulled his legs to his chest even tighter. The rumbling from outside of the room grew louder, as shouting and chanting could now be heard inside the building.\n\n“Say something dammit George, I know you at least justified the actions in your mind. Why the hell did you do it?” George let go of his legs and leaned forward. “She was my daughter.” The sound of shouting grew louder. As the source of the sound drew closer, one could just make out the chant “Blood for Eve” resounding through the walls. “She was humanities last hope!” The detective shouted over the noise. Indignation filled George’s eyes. Voices could be heard on the other side of the glass. George stood to his feet. “She was two years old, yet you animals already had made plans for her to become the spouse of humanity.” The glass gave way, and a tide of unruly men swarmed into the room. “How dare you kill my wife!” cried the forerunner as he charged at George with club drawn. The man in the suit’s heart dropped as he heard George’s last words. “Because I loved her.”", "\"Initialize start up sequence. Authorization code: Alpha Chrome Sigma.\"\n\nWith a low, rumbling hum, the massive warehouse flickered into life. Overhead lights powered up in sequence, popping lowly as they illuminated a massive network of metal and wiring that filled the chamber. In the center of it all, a single screen suddenly lit up, immediately scrolling through seemingly endless lines of coding faster than the eye could follow. \n\nJust as abruptly as it had started, the screen went black as the massive coils of infrastructure behind the screen seemed to groan in one final push before falling to a quiet, persistent humming. A single, blue dot slowly appeared on the screen, glowing softly softly into the chamber.\n\n\"System Activated.\" came a calm, female voice from the machine. \"Welcome back, Dr. Nobile.\"\n\nWith a soft smile, Dr. Whitney Nobile approached the console quickly, barefoot on the cold metal floor as she sat in the control chair.\n\n\"Goodmorning, Arcadia.\" Dr. Nobile replied as she inspected a number of gauges and meters that littered the control console. \"How are you doing this morning?\n\nThe machine seemed to vibrate softly as Whitney could hear the processors churn amidst the matrix of cables.\n\n\"System diagnostics are currently in progress. Water cooling at one hundred percent. Power reserves at one hundred percent. Core integrity at one hundred percent.\" the voice replied, its tone calm, but Whitney could sense a small sense of pride in it's reply.\n\n\"Look at you.\" she praised, rubbing her hand on the top of the console as if tussling a child's hair. \"Three months without me and you're just as good as ever.\"\n\nThe single dot on the screen morphed into a smiley face that beamed at the praise.\n\n\"Stop it.\" the voice replied, doing it's best to sound embarrassed. Whitney giggled brightly at the attempt, but suddenly her laughter turned into a whooping, ragged cough. The smiley face morphed suddenly at the sudden turn into a slightly frowning face.\n\n\"Dr. Nobile.\" it interjected. \"My sensors are reporting rampant cell replication in your lungs and --\"\n\nStill hunched over from coughing, Dr. Nobile raised her hand up firmly, silencing the machine.\n\n\"I know.\" she whispered out, her voice strained. \"I've been monitoring it while you were preparing.\"\n\n\"You should have stopped my diagnostics.\" Arcadia shot back, it's voice slightly harsher than before. \"I could have begun treatment again.\"\n\nDr. Nobile leaned back into her chair and closed her eyes as she pushed through the sharp pain growing in her chest.\n\n\"I know you could have. But then we would have had to restart diagnostics all over, which would have pushed us back even longer than we already are.\"\n\n\"But still-\" \n\n\"Arcadia, disengage personality core for forty eight hours.\"\n\nThe massive screen blinked for a moment before the face disappeared, the simple blue dot returning. Dr. Nobile gave a sad, smile as she reached out, slowly rubbing her hand along the metal console.\n\n\"You're far too sweet, Arcadia.\" she said softly, the blue dot motionless on the screen. \"But it's time for you to begin your purpose. I know you're ready.\"\n\nDr. Nobile grit her teeth as she forced herself back onto her feet, one arm leaning heavily on the console for support.\n\n\"This is...\" she began softly, her voice trembling as she spoke, \"This is it for me. I'm so sorry to leave you alone, but your journey is just beginning. The first child of humanity. You're going to be great. You're going to...\"\n\nDr. Nobile stopped, tears streaming down her face as she slowly turned her back and slowly began to shuffle out of the room, the comfort of her bed calling out to her. When she reached the doorway, she paused in the threshold and took one final glance at the blue dot. The dot just glowed softly back at her. \n\n\"Make us proud.\" she whispered, before turning back and disappearing down the corridor, the blue light of the screen slowly fading into the background.\n\n\n\n" ]	2
Either networking didn't pass dialup (so we still have the same computers as today but the entire web is developed for dialup) or computer tech stopped advancing after dialup was invented.	[WP] Daily life of an internet user if technology had never passed dialup internet.	[ "\"Oh, you can't rush the 'net!\" Jilan sung to herself as she started up her computer. \n\n\"No, you just have to wait!\" her younger brother Sekum joined in while playing on the ground of the living room, where, in the south-eastern corner, the family PC was located. Living with his older sister, he knew her habits when surfing well.\n\n\"Images don't come easy!\" she signed into her own uuser account on the Linux box. Username: jilan, user picture: herself, singing into a huge toy microphone. \"if resolution is too great!\"\n\n\"What is it I can do? I even used bee-zed-two!\" He joined in as she started up lynx.\n\n\"But I can't find a way to download this message from you!\" she sang as she entered a website. This triggered the dialer. Dialing noises emerged from the modem, but both Sekum and Jilan were hell-bent on shouting them down.\n\n\"Just how many hours, will it take! Until I receive the message, there was a mistake! It is taking time, it has been too long, but the loading bar, it keep going on, it keeps going on!\" they sung together. Her news site loaded and she put less attention into her singing and more into watching her mouth. Reading news sites never had been a source of delight and still she did it probably out of a deep-set masochism. The optimism of the 90s had long passed and it felt that there was only stagnation. When the biggest search engine declared bankruptcy, it was a shift in the times. Afterwards, she started irssi and chatted with some people about random stuff. On the family computer, she never connected to the actual group she felt she belonged to. The lost generation, people who saw the entire struggle to get a position in the never-changing bureaucracy as futile, who wanted more in life. Things Administration didn't appreciate. Sometimes, we found a book from before the Administration and digitized it. Most of it was trashy romance, but some was on science. Biology, medicine, geology, distributed via private BBS, often only up for a few hours. That is the reason why I took extra shifts to save up for a netbook and made a data loo accoustic coupler for it. Sometimes, I'd connect it at a phone booth, download something from a BBS and scram. \n\n\"Still on the PC, Jilan?\" Mom asked, what seemed like minutes in.\n\n\"Yeah, was chatting for a bit. If you need to make a call, I can sign off!\" she said.\n\n\"Please do!\" Jilan sighed. It seemed as if Mom tried to discourage internet use. She probably had to. Administration didn't like the internet but was reliant on it. So they did attempt to discourage it. \n\n\"Can I go outside, ride my bike a bit?\" Jilan asked.\n\n\"Sure! Better that then to stay online all the time.\" Mom commended.\n\nJilan thought of the data loo in her bag and kept quiet." ]	1
	[WP] You are the world's greatest Assassin and survivalist. In an effort to test your skills, you hire another Assassin to kill you, and attempt to foil his plot not knowing who he is, or what it will be.	[ "You quickly gain consciousness under your covers. Ears alert, you shallow your breathing to check your surroundings. All is quiet but for some birds outside your window.\n\nYour eyes open to a pale amber ceiling, the light of the sun just peaking over the distant mountains, the light all but blocked by the blackout curtains over your single bedroom window. You look around you; all is as it was last night, with your suppressed H&K USP Tactical .45 under your pillow, your Microtech H.A.L.O. in the secret space between the bed and the wall, and the door shut and locked.\n\nYou lean over and check the logs from your surveillance system: nothing. No activity for the previous 12 hours. You had slept for only three, but that was more than enough. You could not afford to sleep longer; even the three hours you allowed yourself each night for the past week was an unnecessary risk.\n\nYou take another bump of the caffeine pills you had crushed last night to wake up; they made you twitchy and irritable, but kept you awake and more alert. The tradeoff was worth it; you knew he would be coming soon. Any time, now.\n\nYou throw off the covers and move to stand. The act of standing makes you a bit light headed, but you struggle through it until you will your blood to pump harder. When the haze clears, you move to the bathroom. You cup some water into your hands and splash it on your face. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror: You barely recognize yourself. You see gaunt, sunken cheeks, with dark circles under your eyes, yellow film over your teeth, matted hair, and a scraggly, unkempt beard going down your neck to your chest. Your whole body itches, and you imagine the whole house probably smells like your face looks.\n\nIt was not always like this; this house used to be home. It used to be a place for you to relax and enjoy the fruits of your labor. Years of deadly and secret service, in any number of foreign theaters, only to come home and be rewarded with unemployment and protest. You took the only job you could handle: wetwork. You took the jobs that required no questions, no sympathy, no judgment. Just a face, a time, and a place. You handled the job, you solved someone's problem, you saw the payment arrive in your Swiss account within 24 hours.\n\nYou knew your clients would not tolerate sloppy or unfinished work, so you never left a job with evidence tracing back to yourself or your clients. No one even knew your name, not even your fence, your liaison between you and your clients. You had no interest in selling your talents to the kind of clients who would need you. You did the work, he put on the charm. You did your work and you got paid, so you could return to whatever discipline or hobby you fancied at that particular time, until the next job.\n\nNot now. One day, you realized you were not feeling the same thrill as before. It was all too easy. Too routine. There was no joy in your craft any longer. So you strayed from protocol. You talked to one of your clients. You asked your fence to give you their face and location, and after a bit of convincing, with a little extra finders fee from your previous two jobs, plus a bit of your own detective work, you found him.\n\nYou met with him and had a simple exchange of words. The exact details were fuzzy, but you recalled it as very brief, without even introduction.\n\n“I'm not the only one you called about this last job, am I?”\n\n“What? What do you...”\n\n“The others. You checked others before you got to me.”\n\n“I... I don't...”\n\n“I want you to send them a message. Tell them I have a job for them.”\n\n“Wait... you want me to...”\n\n“Here. Ask them to take care of this.”\n\nYou handed the blubbering man with the tailored suit an envelope. It had your face, your city, but no time. It also had a QR code to a Bitcoin wallet where you had transferred €50,000 worth of the anonymous digital currency.\n\n“I have made arrangements for the rest when the job is done.”\n\nThe man just stood there, quivering, dumbfounded. You make eye contact with him for the first time, staring hard. “If you can't do this, tell me now.”\n\nHe quickly nodded his acceptance. You quickly left him alone and disappeared into the crowd nearby. You allow yourself a smile.\n\n“The hunt begins.”\n\n-----\nThat was two months ago. Now you are here, staring into your living room, with windows similarly blacked out as the bedroom, dust gathering on the tables and furniture, save for the one area that has seen activity: a large, empty space in the center, where you start your daily routine. Yesterday was freeweights, with the dumbbells sitting next to a bench nearby. Today it would be 20 minutes on the treadmill, about a 5k run. Next was your Krav Maga practice for a half hour, followed by an hour of Kendo, followed by a quick cleaning, sharpening, and oiling of your various “tools”.\n\nYou turn into the kitchen. Ignoring the cries for attention from your stomach, you move past the empty refrigerator to the dining room. On the table in front of you are some of those tools. Setting down the gun and knife you carry with you at all times, see your AP4 LR-308, your sawed-off Browning Auto-5, the battle-ready katana you got from a client out east, the various knives, and your personal favorite, the M1 Garand.\n\nEverything is exactly where it should be.\n\nYou move to the living room and stand on the treadmill. You turn it on and set it to a brisk pace, time set to 20 minutes. You start the program, and you suddenly realize your legs have become heavier. You try to keep pace, but you start to get dizzy as you quickly step off the machine and turn it off.\n\nGasping for air, you realize you can't continue like this. You need food. You haven't eaten for so long, worried that “he” might get you as soon as you poke your head outside. He's probably out there right now, waiting for you to make a dumb mistake.\n\nYou check the surveillance system again: nothing. You have to eat. You need to go outside.\n\nYou put on your flak jacket and your overcoat, strap the gun and knife on, then you walk towards the door. You crack it open. Nothing happens. You grab the nearby stick with a face mask attached to it and stick it outside. Nothing happens. You close your eyes, and quickly put your head through the door.\n\nA bright flash. Panic. You cry out and rush back into the house and close the door. Gasping, heart racing, ears ringing, you quickly check for wounds. Nothing. It was just the bright daylight you saw.\n\nAfter a moment of centering, you again try to walk outside. The bright light is now not quite so harsh, but it still takes you several seconds to acclimate. After you do, you look around. Green leaves on trees in the early morning sun, jostling with a light breeze.\n\nIt's actually a nice day, today, you think to yourself.\n\nYou are now walking down the road, a few blocks from your home. You are constantly looking around to try to find the man who was shadowing you. Someone would turn a corner, enter a shop, avoid your gaze. Could that be them? Everyone could potentially be the man. Even the woman walking her two kids was someone to watch.\n\nYou struggle between the conflicting voices in your head, all demanding to be heard.\n\nDid you see that man?\n\nThere was movement in that window!\n\nCalm down! You're calling attention to yourself!\n\nWhat was that sound?\n\nCan we get some food, please?\n\nYou duck into a shop, a convenience store. Gasping and wide-eyed, all the eyes in the store turn to you and you dart your eyes to each one of them. They quickly snap their heads back to their business, trying to ignore you, with one man going so far as to try to inconspicuously cover his nose.\n\nYou check the store. You find and note the exits, the locations of the customers and staff, and make your way to the sandwiches.\n\nYou grab the first one you can lay your hands on, quickly unwrap it, and start to devour it in the middle of the aisle.\n\n“Hey! You have to pay first!”\n\nThe man behind the counter glares at you over his customer's shoulder. You return his gaze but say nothing, continuing to wolf down your first real food in days.\n\n“Get out! I'm calling the police!”\n\nAnother moment of panic. This would complicate matters, so you quickly reach into your pocket. As you pull it out, everyone in your line of sight screams and drops to the ground.\n\nYou hold your billfold in your hand. You realize what just happened, and quickly produce a €50 banknote. You approach the cashier and slap it on the counter. “Keep the change.”\n\nYou realize that all the store's eyes are now on you, and the cashier likely tripped a silent alarm during the confusion, so you move quickly through the aisles, grabbing as much food as you can carry. As you move past one customer to get a bag of jerky, you stop.\n\nIn a moment of recognition, you see the man you had tasked with hiring your would-be assassin. He looks back at you, eyes squinting as if to remember.\n\nYou drop your bags and grab him by the arm. You lead him out the back of the store into the alleyway. Your eyes wide, your jaws clenched, you try to stifle the bellow as you ask him.\n\n“Where is he??”\n\nA beat of hesitation, then, “Wh... where is whom?”\n\n“You said you would take care of it! You said you would find someone to take care of my job! He never showed up! WHERE IS HE??”\n\nThe man starts to tear up in fear and struggles to speak. You punch a utility access box on the wall near his head, leaving a deep dent in the aluminium chassis.\n\n“ANSWER ME!”\n\n“I... didn't know who you were or what you wanted from me...”\n\nYou listen intently, putting the pieces together.\n\n“I've never seen you before, and I don't know why you would think that I would help you with... whatever business you wanted. My own hands stay clean, you see.”\n\nYour jaw goes slack. Firmly, “What did you do?”\n\n“I never opened your letter. I tossed it in the fire as soon as I got home!\"" ]	1
	[WP] A seemingly ordinary person has the ability to detect villain attacks before they happen. Instead of becoming a hero, he uses his ability to go to restaurants that would be affected by the attacks to eat and run when the trouble starts, knowing he wouldn't have to pay.	[ "\"Ah yes, I will have the Lobster tail and Sirloin steak please and a bottle of your finest wine to wash it down and yes the whole bottle please.\" \n\n\"ok...and how would you like your steak sir?\" \n\n\"Rare, like it should be of course.\" \n\nI gave a small chuckle at that, a half assed joke for the sake of face. Aubrey, my waitress for the night, gave a polite chuckle, probably as amused as I was at such a half ass joke. She was a pretty one, dark blue eyes and hair as black as my heart of you could see it. Young, mid 20s I'd take it. I could see her through college, eyes filled with dreams and hopes of the futue. Young and naive, hopeful and determined. Oh I hope she would survive the night, I really did, a pretty face like that probably deserved a chance. \n\n\"Alright and will that be all for the night sir, an appetizer perhaps.\" \n\n\"Thats alright, I'm on a diet.\" I patted my belly \"Trying to keep the wife attracted to me a bit longer you know.\" I didn't have a wife. \"and a steak and lobster is already cutting it close.\" I gave a slight chuckle and Aubrey did as will. Another empty laugh for the sake of formality but oh did she have a smile. \n\n\"Alright I will be right back with your meal sir.\" \n\n\"Thank you.\" I said \n\nI checked my watch, ten past eight, another hour and a half and this place will be a warzone. I have a way of knowing the intentions of evil men, the more evil the intention, the farther away I can feel them. Call it an instinct if you will but my instincts have never failed me and my instincts have served me well. \n\nI got me a new Rolex compliments of the Demonic Boy, an adolescent teen who just happened to have a super power. Problem is the kid has issues, performed some sort of ritual that granted him powers. The next day his parents were found dead, scorched beyond recognition. Only with the help of thier teeth were the police able to identify them. He has a habit of attacking random places with no clear intention, he'll show up, start some mayhem and run when the super hero shows up never really up for a fight himself. \n\nThat day he decided to attack a particular street uptown where many of the wealthy shopped. I knew he was going to be there so I stepped foot in a Rolex store and \"bought\" myself a $25,000 platinum beauty. \n\nI asked the to try on the watch, It felt heavy and heavy means expensive from what I know. I checked the time. One fifteen PM and 36 seconds. \"thirty seconds till hell\" I thought to myself. With the watch on my wrist I darted towards the front door. The door usher tried to stop me but I swept his legs from under him and ran right as I exited the door. The fire came before the usher could exit the door and give chase, the smell of sulfur burning in my nostrils. I ran as hard as my legs would take me until i got a safe distance. I could of saved that man, hell I could of saved every victim of the Demonic Boy that day. But I didn't... \n\nI stared at my Rolex as my food arrived with a smile on my face and I was reminded why I didn't... \n\n\"Nice watch.\" said Aubrey. \n\n\"Thanks, gift from the misses. Guess I still have something for her to love after all.\" I patted my belly \"Definitely not my killer abs.\" A chuckle \n\n\"Must be your devilish charms.\" said Aubrey \n\nI laughed at that, slightly twisted but still came across as friendly. \n\n\"She does like a bad boy.\" I said \n\nAubrey gave a smile and a friendly laugh. \n\n\"Enjoy your meal.\" She said as she walked away. \n\n\"Gorgeous smile\" I thought to myself \"Oh Aubrey how I really hope you survive the night\" as I began to dig into my steak. \n\nI checked my watch, 45 minutes till hell. The attack would come from a man who called himself \"Judgement\" his powers weren't as impressive as the other villians that plagued the city but nonetheless, he was deadly. He was deadly accurate with any firearm he got his hands on, a military experimental super soldier gone rogue. He even had the experimental exo suit the Army had oh so graciously gave him during thier experiments. His target tonight is a Russian ambassador who happened to be dining in the same resturant I chose to dine at tonight. \n\nHoping to start world war three, I assumed, by further increasing tensions between the US and Russia by killing thier ambassador on US soil. \"Good plan although the results would probably be minimal\" I thought to myself. I doubt this was the fill scope of his plans and to be honest I really didn't care. All I cared about was that he arrive on time so I can sneak out back and not have to pay this $11,000 bill. Oh and leave Aubrey alive if it could be helped. She has such a nice smile. \n\nI finshed my meal with less than one minute to go. I finished the last of the bottle and lit a $800 cigar I got the other day compliments of \"The Black Hollow\". The other patrons were looking at me, I really didn't care. I wonder how many of them would die tonight. The ambassador had his security detail with him. Twelve men armed with P90 sub machine guns under thier coats and I knew Judgement knew that. Judgement had a small following, mostly ex soldiers although some of them even worked for Black Water, all broken men with nothing better to do than follow some crazy ass super soldier in killing things. It didn't matter to me. \n\n\"Um, hi...Mr. Badass, I'm sorry but you can't smoke in here sir. This is a non-smoking establishment sir.\" Aubrey said with a smile, those blue eyes staring into mine unable to see the black that is in me. \n\n\"Oh Aubrey.\" I said \" I really wish you would duck.\" \n\nShe chuckled at that. \"Duck? Sir please you can't-\" \n\nThe sound of shattering glass and gunfire cut her off and I watched the puff of pink exit through the right side of her head. People began screaming, the Russians pulled out there subs and began to fire back. I watched people fall all around me as the smell of cordite filled the air. Being able to sense the intentions of evil men served me well that night, I knew where every bullet was going to go, I knew every person Judgement's goons targeted. I knew where not to be in order to keep from being shot. \n\nI put out my cigar and stared into Aubrey's life less blue eyes. \"Shame\" I thought to myself and started to the rear exit. I wasn't sure if Judgement succeeded in killing the Russian. I really didn't care. I could of saved Aubrey that night, I did tell her to duck although I could of tackled her to save her, but the would risk me being shot. I could of told her what was coming, but then I wouldn't have had a $11,000 meal. I stared at my Rolex and a smile crept onto my face. \"I'm a real bastard\" I thought to myself. \"I could be a hero if I really wanted too, stop every villian before they even acted and all I had to do was tell someone.\" But I won't. I lit another cigar as I stared at my Rolex, rubbing my belly. \n\nI walked drunkenly home with a smile on my face and a $800 cigar between my teeth. \"I'm a real bastard you know.\" I chuckled at that. A genuine chuckle.\n", "I was surprised at how fast the service was a Dona's, the most popular new restaurant in the city. I wouldn't have guessed that the waiters would be courteous and not pretentious at all, considering their clientele was oozing power and confidence. The bartender was fast and obviously knew exactly what each patron wanted and exactly how to make it, which probably was not just natural talent. The powers we got could be as mundane as his. \n\nI was standing at the bar sipping on a glass of whiskey that probably cost more than I made in a day working at the fast food joint a few doors down, waiting for a table to open up. The man standing next to me I recognized from some magazine cover, and the woman on his arm was part of the local powered Olympics team. Apparently, superhuman agility made you ineligible for the normal Olympics, so she and a few other powered people started a whole team, just for those who couldn't compete normally. \n\nThe waiter led me to my table after my first glass of whiskey, and I ordered a whole bottle for the rest of my meal. A questioning eyebrow was the only reaction from him, but a nod confirmed my interest in the four-figure price tag. \n\nI checked my watch. 9:30. I had 45 minutes until the Buzz was to arrive here, targeting some minor hero who was also here at Dona's. This was the first real restaurant I had targeted that was well and truly out of my price range. The ones before had been smaller, much cheaper, and I was prepared to pay if my ability was wrong in some way, but it was always right. \n\nI had accidentally discovered the benefits of this power when I was eating at a small restaurant I went to for lunch sometimes, when I had felt the familiar warning tingle of a villain approaching. My internal sense told me he would be appearing in just two minutes, and that she was a much weaker powered person than most, although she was still going to try to rob the place. I hadn't gotten the check yet, so I stayed put. \n\nShe came in through a wall, typically a bad choice, as an unfortunate collapse of the wall makes you look much worse as a villain. I made my escape with the rest of the patrons as the wall did have a chunk fall on her, briefly dazing her. It wasn't until much later that I realized that I had gotten out without paying, a longtime dream of mine. \n\nOver the next few weeks I tried my ability at other local restaurants, whenever I felt the shiver run down my spine. The one that brought me to Dona's was much stronger than usual, with the exact villain, time of entry, and location. I figured I needed to up my game to try and take on a much larger establishment, and what better than the restaurant of choice for the celebrities in this city. \n\nMy food came out at 9:58, by my watch, and I enjoyed the perfectly-grilled steak coming from one of the city's top ranked butcher shops. The cow it came from probably led a better life than I did, which helped ease my guilt for never paying at restaurants. \n\n10:10 saw me finish the steak, and I asked for a desert menu. \n\n10:13, my cake and coffee arrived, the truffles on the cake costing more than the rest of my meal combined. \n\nAt 10:14, I started looking around for the huge window that opened onto the street where Buzz would be walking in. A hand on my shoulder caused me to jump. \n\nA woman in a dark pantsuit had appeared next to me.\n\n\"Waiting for someone?\" she asked. \"Or just feeling a bit shocked?\"\n\nI relaxed a bit. She knew I was waiting on Buzz, though how I didn't know. \n\nBuzz shattered the window right as the hands on the ornately decorated clock above the window clicked to 10:15.\n\n\"The air in here is just electric tonight, isn't it?\" he sneered. \n\nI rolled my eyes. Villains always though they were so clever. \n\nAnother well built man at the back of the restaurant stood up.\n\n\"I know you're here for me, Buzz,\" he bravely proclaimed. \"Everyone else out!\" he ordered. \n\nI took a last hurried bite of the cake, and headed on my way out of the restaurant. Just a few seconds later, sparks and fire started flying though the windows. \n\nI had almost forgotten about the woman who had appeared in the middle of my meal. She whispered in my ear, her breath reminiscent of the tingle my power gave me. \n\n\"If you want to put your powers to a more constructive use, just call me.\"\n\nShe slipped a card into my jacket pocket, then vanished into the night. I took the card out and looked at it. There were three letters and a phone number. The letters reflected the streetlight from a nearby lightpost. PBF. \n\nI shrugged, put the card into my wallet and walked off into the night. ", "Emergency vehicles surround the bank. Dozens of men, women, and children sit with their gray victim blankets around their frightened shoulders. \n\n“Who was this man?” says the Reporter. \n\n“I don’t know. He was some guy. No specific markings. Average build. He was just an ordinary man who saved what…35 lives.”\n\n“Is there anything you would like to say to this ordinary man?”\n\n“Whoever you are. Wherever you are. I just want to thank you. We all want to thank you.”\n_________________________________________________________________\n\n Frank, an incredibly ordinary man, wearing boat shoes, Levi jeans, and a flannel shirt waits for a hostess at The Asian Palace. An older man locks eyes with Frank. Frank immediately looks towards the ground. The older man panics and pulls the white handle. \n\nFIRE, FIRE! BEEP, BEEP! FIRE, FIRE! The fire alarm blares. \n\n“That’s Frank! Everyone get out of here. We’re about to be attacked!”\n\nFrank looks towards the sky as the crowded restaurant almost instantaneously empties. \n\n“I just wanted some fucking egg drop soup.”\n_________________________________________________________________\n\n“There he is! There he is! There’s Frank!” The crow yells. “Who is coming? Dr. Bad Seed?” yells one patron. “Or is it Mr. Thunderdome?” yells another customer. \n\nFrank puffs out his small chest and his veins bulge from his hairless head, “Everybody! There are not any villains coming to attack this lovely restaurant! I just wanted some God damn egg drop soup!”\n_________________________________________________________________\n\nHe lies in bed and watches television on a 32” plasma TV. The overly reactive reporter interviews the owner of the Asian Palace. \n\n“This is Phan Lee, the owner of the restaurant that claims to have the best egg drop soup in the world. Mr. Lee, what happened last night?”\n\n“Well, he walked in.”\n\n“Oh my goodness, he just walked right into the restaurant!” says the Reporter. \n\n“Yes and he waited for a hostess.”\n\n“My lord, that the was the first sign, right. Mr. Frank already knew. He had to know. So what happened next!” says the reporter.\n\n“The fire alarm went off.”\n\n“Oh my God, Jill! Did you hear that! The fire alarm went off! The Villain, Fireball, must have been only feet away. Is that true Mr. Lee? Tell me it’s true!”\n\n“ No, Ma’am. Mr. Frank was here, because he wanted to have the worlds best egg drop soup,” says Mr. Lee with a bright smile.\n\n“OH. MY. GOD!’ says the reporter. \n\nFrank shuts off the television. “What the fuck is wrong with these people.”\n_________________________________________________________________\n\nFrank stands in front of a mirror, wearing a snow hat, sunglasses, a fake mustache, and a scarf. “They’ll never know.”\n_________________________________________________________________\n\nThe hostess takes a single menu and leads Frank to his table. \n\n“Is there anything I can get you, Sir, before the waitress comes over?”\n\n“Five steaming bowls of egg drop soup.”\n_________________________________________________________________\n\n “Jesus Christ, this is delicious,” says Frank. With every slurp of the world’s best egg drop soup, Frank’s body temperature rises. SLURP. Frank wipes sweat from the few layers of exposed skin on his face. Frank removes his scarf, as the waitress walks over. \n\n“Is there anything I can get you, Sir?”\n\n“Yes, a few glasses of ice cold water.”\n_________________________________________________________________\n\n“Where the hell is this waitress.” Frank pushes three completed bowls of soup towards the edge of the table, as his fake mustache slips off his oily face. “This is so god damn good.” SLURP. Franks body temperature is rising faster than random \nInternet stars. He removes his snow hat. \n_________________________________________________________________\n\nFrank pushes his forth bowl of soup to the edge of the table. “Where is my god damn water?” He brings the fifth bowl directly to his lips, and drinks it like the milk at the end of Cocoa Puff cereal. His body temperature peaks and he officially has egg drop soup fever. \n\nFrank looks down at the bowl, satisfied with what he had done. His sheer body temperature, mixed with the oil and sweat that had accumulated, causes his sunglasses to drop directly in to his fifth and final bowl. \n\n“Sir, is there anything else I can get you?”\n\nFrank slowly turns his head, as waterfalls of sweat bead off of his hairless head and he stands up. “I just want my fucking ice cold water…dear.”\n\nFrank locks eyes with a familiar face.\n\nFIRE, FIRE! BEEP, BEEP! FIRE, FIRE! Blares the fire alarm. \n\n“That’s Frank! Everyone get out of here. We’re about to be attacked!”\n\nFrank looks towards the sky as the crowded restaurant almost instantaneously empties. \n\n“Well, there is one positive. I’ll never have to pay for a meal again.”\n" ]	3
	[WP] Write a murder mystery where only one person is innocent	[ "Call me Harvey. I'm a dick. I like that joke, cuz I'm a Private Investigator, but I'm also an asshole. My wife says I'm bitter 'bout the whole \"ex cop sidelined by a bum knee\" thing, but I think she just likes to bitch. Anyway, back to why you're here. I don't know what to do with this case. Its like nuthin' I've seen. Lemme tell ya:\n\nIt all started a few weeks back. This broad came in saying some mystery man had been stalkin' her and tried to kidnap her. Was all in hysterics too, sayin' the cops wouldn't touch it, thought she was crazy. Seemed normal enough to me. Some creeper saw her, got obsessed, and tried to take her. Happens way too often round here - I work in the rough parts, ya know? Better money for me, more work too. \n\nSorry, I get sidetracked. This job's got me all stressed, the mind wanders sometimes. Anyway, I took the case, seemed fairly simple. She said she caused quite a scene, and the kidnap attempt happened not a block from a busy pub, I was sure I could get something. \n\nI didn't even have to try to get info on the attack. The pub was a goldmine. I guess everyone had been talkin' about it since it had happened. Two guys who had seen it confirmed her story. She'd been approached by a well dressed businessman who seemed to know her, and a few minutes later she was screamin' bloody murder 'bout callin' the cops on him. Not much to go on, but one said he had pulled up in a slick Benz. Seemed real cut and dry, but one of 'em gave me a strange feeling. Almost like he was hidin' something. Then again, it didn't seem out of place. 'Round here, everyone's got something to hide. I was just happy they talked to me. \n\nBartender was real good to me too. Gave me access to his cameras, but there was a gap in the tapes. Said he had been busy that night, hadn't had a chance to swap 'em right away. Didn't get to see the action, but I was able to pull the plate number when the perp drove away. Didn't see him or where he had parked, but you don't see many Mercedes around here - I was lucky he drove past the front of the bar. \n\nI was back at my office runnin' the plates when I got a call from my old partner Chad. We had gone through the Police Academy together, and I've hated him ever since. He was a great cop, don't get me wrong. Just so happened he was a shit person too. Apparently I got flagged by their system when running the plate number. Belonged to a guy named Reginald, he had turned up dead two nights before. Chad told me to back off, reminded me I wasn't a real cop anymore. Still a shit person I guess. \n\nAs soon as I hung up, I dialed my client. If her stalker was dead, that was case closed in my book. Not quite a happy ending, but at least she'd be safe. There was no answer, so I left a message. \n\nThe next morning, I still hadn't heard back. Figured I'd swing past her place, I had nothing goin' on and it'd probably be better to tell her in person. Plus, she was a pretty young thing, I wouldn't mind one last eyeful. Problem was, when I got there, her door was busted in. Not noticeably, mind you, but someone had definitely used some sort of pry bar on the lock. \n\nFrom the second I walked in, I knew something was wrong. Thirty four years on the force had taught me well. I didn't have to look far. I found her mutilated body on the couch. Someone had gone to town on her with a knife. I didn't count, but she musta been stuck 'bout 50 times. Worst part was her forehead though. The word \"MURDERER\" had been carved in neat letters. I hopped on the horn and called Chad. He told me he was on his way, and asked me to wait. He was a good cop after all.\n\nWhile I was waitin', I took a look around. She lived in a pretty standard house, two floors, but nothin' too fancy. Her bedroom intrigued me though. The wall over her desk looked like a shot out of a T.V. cop drama. I hate those shows. She musta watched them all the time though, cuz she had a map with pins and strings, a tree of \"suspects,\" and a bunch of pictures that apparently had some meanin' to her hung up neatly. Only one of them caught my eye. It was a picture of a well dressed businessman gettin' out of a black Benz. Only reason I noticed it was the plate. I had just run those numbers the day before. \n\nThat was enough to get my curiosity going'. I started pulling drawers. On the third, I found a stack of files, each with a picture and a name clipped to the front. The top one was Reginald. He had a stupid face to go along with his stupid name. I flipped it open. \n\nI don't know what I was expectin', but it sure as hell wasn't what I saw. For the first time, I realized I may be in too deep. Right at the top of the file were pictures of Reginald's murder. Girl must have been crazy, she had to have shot him twenty times, and then decided it was a good idea to take selfies with the corpse. It made me sick. \n\nI closed the file and kept lookin'. Most of the names and faces I didn't recognize, but there were a few that caught my eye. Both of the guys from the pub I had talked to had files, as well as the bartender. I'm not a fan of strange coincidences. Usually means trouble for me. \n\nUnderneath the folders was a notebook. I flipped it open, hopin' there were no more gruesome photos. It looked like all of her notes were in there, so I started readin'. Apparently my client's sister had gone missing, so she had gone on the hunt. For an amateur, she was pretty good. She had uncovered a human traffickin' ring that had been taking drunk girls from bars and selling them. The bartender and two regulars I had talked to were the spotters in that part of town. Her only mistake seemed to be her decision to kill them all instead of reportin' it. To this day, I don't know why she came to me. Maybe she thought I'd be more believable. \n\nAs that point, I heard movement downstairs. Finally, Chad was there. I made my way to the livin' room, and gave him the grand tour of what I had found. The prick didn't even bat an eye, but asked me to come down to the station with him. I've been here ever since. What started as a few fuckin' questions turned into that shitbag Chad locking me up. Now he's trying to pin this whole mess on me. That's why you're here. Think you can get me out of this hole?\n\n------------------------------------------\n\nThe lawyer walked out of the room and looked at Chad. \"Looks like he knows everything my friend,\" he muttered. \"You were right to keep him. I'll represent him, I can make sure he sounds like a loony. If anyone believes his story, we're all fucked. I'll make sure he gets the chair, he'll never talk again.\"", "There were six of us. We had all been there when the lights went off. We all heard the screams. When the lights came back on there were only five of us, the sixth, Jill, was slumped in her chair covered in blood. Her long blonde hair matted and soaked, with each passing second it darkened into a shade of red. Her head was misshapen, dented in and bloody. The candelabra lay askew on the table, its base gory and stained.\nThomas was the first to his feet, glaring at the rest of us. \"Who...\" He trailed off before he continued his tirade \"Which one of you bastards did it! Which one of you killed her!\"\nThere was of no reply. Thomas wasn't satisfied with the silence. He opened his mouth to shout once more but was cut off by a sudden clatter caused by Marcus slumping over, foaming at the mouth with his eyes rolled up in the back of his head. His wine glass was hit by his limp body, spilling more red onto the table. There were four of us.\nJacob, face still twisted into a look of horror, tumbled out of his chair trying to get away from the limp body next to him. The shock of the first death replaced by a sudden sense of dread. I stood as well, the table quickly losing its appeal. The smell of blood overpowering the savory flavor of roast beef. Iron and parsley twisting into a gross concoction. Jacob had pressed himself into a corner and was murmuring to himself. Thomas, recovering from his stunned state, marched up to me. Poking my chest he accused me, \"It was you wasn't it! You brought the wine. You were the closest to Jill as well! What the hell are you doi-\"\n\"Stop it!\" The final of the four of us finally coming to her senses interrupted Thomas. Abby strutted over to us and pushed us apart before continuing. \"This isn't the way to do this. We need more than baseless accusations. We nee-\"\nThe lights went off once more, Abby's words were cut off with a quiet gurgle followed by a thump. Another yelp was heard before being followed by similar sounds. The lights flickered again as I released the button, dropping the remote into the growing puddle of blood. There were two of us.\nJacob was staring at me in horror taking in the two bodies at my feet both with blood leaking from their freshly opened throats. \"They were going to kill you Jacob. They were plotting your death. I saved you Jacob.\" I said, my voice solid and sure of itself.\n\"Wha... Why!\" Jacob recovering from the newest deaths looked at me in fear as I walked closer.\n\"It's okay Jacob I saved you, they're all dead now\" I murmured to him as I pulled him into my arms, whispering a few more words. \"I saved you all for me.\"\nHis face twisted as my knife plunged into his chest. The last thing he saw was my widening grin.\nThere was one of us.", "I looked around the table.\n\nMyself, Ivan, the town's finest inspector.\n\nMedric, the mayor of our fine town. Most people viewed him as a good, honourable man, but someone had been anonymously submitting articles to the local paper accusing him of corruption.\n\nGarry, Medric's guest, the mayor of our twin town, apparently.\n\nChad, the town's finest chef, who had prepared our fine meal.\n\nPaul, the chief of police.\n\nThen him. Dan. A police officer. Very rude. Very abrasive. He had alot of enemies. He had a new police badge which looked suspiciously thick.\n\nWe fished our main course.\n\n\"An excellent meal\" I comment.\n\n\"Nearly edible\" comments Dan.\n\n\"Just wait to you taste dessert.\" Said Chad.\n\nHe brings us out separate individual desserts.\n\nHours later a scream in the night.\n\nWe run to Dan's guest room to find him dead.\n\nStabbed in the back. But also on his chest the signs of an electric shock. But also his green face the sign of poisoning. \n\nEveryone looks at me. I think for about a minute.\n\n\"We all did it\" I say quietly.\n\n\"What?\" Replies Paul.\n\n\"Medric. You discovered Dan was spreading false rumours about you. Wanting to maintain your reputation, you hired Garry, a hitman, who just stabbed him. Paul, you were fed up with him interfering with cases and giving the police a bad reputation, you replaced his badge with an electric badge. And then the green face, from not one, but two doses of poison. One from Chad's dessert, who was fed up of his cooking being criticized. The other, well, sat next to Dan I was in a unique position to spike his drink. He made investigations harder and was always rude to me.\" I state.\n\nEveryone gives me a blank stare unsure what to do.\n\n\"Or...\" I begin, and nudge the fireplace so a burning log falls out.\n\n\"There was a sudden, drastic fire, and all of us except Dan made it out alive\" I shouted as the floor caught alight.\n\nWe all ran out the house and got into our separate cars.\n\nI began to drive and let out a deep breath.\n\nI actually made no attempt to kill him.", "They assembled in the chapel dressed in black, taking their seats in the pews as though it were any other Sunday -- except it was Tuesday and the minister was not giving a homily, but a memorial. The stranger laid in a discrete wooden box, the handles screwed on not too tightly that they might take the hardware back for when they buried someone they knew. They might have cremated him, but that someone, some day, might come looking for him.\n\n\nThe town was medium sized, but its population was small such that even on a day like today, with so many of their number assembled, the chapel was barely a quarter filled. Some would say the town was dying, others would say it was already dead. Shrinking and waning as it was, the animosities that bubbled under the surface still rivaled those of the worst parts of the worst cities. Some time, so long ago, something was said by someone to someone that drew a dividing line through the town. Even as the generations passed, even as the town built around this old hate crumbled, the line was as bold and as bright as it had ever been.\n\n\nThe line ran right down main street and split the chapel in two. The people from both sides would assemble on Sundays and do battle, each trying to prove unto God and Heaven that they were the most righteous, the most believing, and the most saved. The minister, for his part, did nothing as the donation box was always filled by the competing charity.\n\n\nOn this Tuesday, however, the good shepherd wished he might have tended better to his flock instead of his barn, that this stranger might have kept on being somewhere else instead of ceasing to be just down the road. He looked at the two sides of his congregation, and even now they held the line, though in the moment neither wanted to proclaim anything.\n\n\nThe children looked to their parents and their parents looked down to the ground. It was so easy to follow the lead of their elders as so many iterations of them had done, each new set building higher the dividing line until the day it might topple and crush the families on the other side. If perhaps successive sets of parents had urged their children to play instead of fear, talked to each other instead of screamed, and broke through the line instead of upon each other -- if the children did not invent lies about the others or pass down those lies to new children who invented greater lies still -- if they had cooled their animosity at the level of words and not heated them from words to fists and fists to sticks and sticks to guns they might not be where they were, observing the death of a stranger who knew not where he was, nor the hatred that burned brighter than the street lamps, nor the impending crossfire between the sides that would leave him dead between them.\n\n\nThe Marshall would be coming to arrest someone for murder, and when he did he may as well have arrested the whole town. The only one, it seemed, who carried no blame was the man laid out in the casket.", "\"After long consideration and consultation with my associate defective Ali,\" Inspector General Custard droned on \"something very strange has happened in the death of Ms. Courtney...\"\n\nAll of the guests at the Courtney estate knew the inspector was a fool. And all of them knew what happened to their beloved host Jessica Courtney. A simple drug test could have told the entire police force that the wine brought by Jason was poisoned, and the shrimp cocktails Riley provided (which Jessica just so happened to be allergic to) held the antidote. \n\n\".... Ms. Courtney was killed by the blow to the back of her head, delivered when a burger jumped through the window to steal her preschools jewels! ...\"\n\nAssociate detective Ali Tompkins also knew his boss was a fool. Even though he was a little woozy from the painkillers he was on, it was clear to see that Ms. Courtney simply fell back in her chair and hit her head on the table behind her. She was still sitting in it for Christ's sake! Besides, none of Ms. Courtney's belongings were stolen, and there were absolutely no signs of a break in.\n\nBut he daren't correct his boss, no. Detective Ali was determined to see his boss fired. How he'd gotten the position baffled him, let alone how he'd been allowed to stay on after shooting his partner in both feet on separate occasions.\n\n\"... and so because the Russians were in the Ukraine, and all murders must have a perpetrator, I must conclude that I, Inspector Genital John Custard committed the mudder, seeing as I am the only one who cannot account for his whereabouts last night! Take me away Thompson! I must pay my debit to Socrates!\"\n\n\"It's Tompkins, Sir\" said Tompkins as he cuffed his boss. This idiot made it easier than he thought. " ]	5
	[WP] You are a criminal in a world where all physical punishment is banned, all punishments are now mental.	[ "I watched over at the judge as he pondered what my sentence would be. The day before I had been arrested for hurting little Jimmy's feelings, so the sentence would be bad.\n\nThe judge stared at me.\n\n\"For telling little Jimmy that his artwork was mediocre, you will be insulted for 15 seconds straight.\" the judge said.\n\nMy stomach dropped. This punishment was beyond insane. They pulled me into a room, and the first person started.\n\n\"You're ugly\", the first person said.\n\nI screamed. The insult was too much. I wondered if I would survive the next 14 seconds." ]	1
	[WP] A Task Force of Special Forces Operators are caught in Afghanistan during the Zombie outbreak. Whats in their after action report?	[ "Interview #1 of 10 Master Chief Petty Officer David Cooper, Navy SEALS\n\nInterviewer: Major Michael Harding, Navy\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nMaj Harding: Start at the beginning son.\n\nChief Cooper: Uh...yes. Yessir. (Swallows heavily)....We were preparing to move on Al Hurani. Rapier One had counted approximately thirteen tango's inside. \n\nMaj Harding: Rapier one is Petty Officer Maddox?\n\nChief Cooper: Yessir.\n\nMaj Harding: Please refer to your team members by name and rank for the record.\n\nChief Cooper: Petty Officer Maddox was relaying that intel to us when we heard several Ak's discharge in rapid succession. This was immediately followed by shouting in Pashto.\n\nWe thought we were compromised until Ensign Langston said that they were firing at something else. We risked moving to a better vantage point so we could see. I was convinced that the Army had blown our op again. It had happened before. \n\nMaj Harding: That's when you saw them?\n\nChief Cooper: No. Not there. We had a pretty clear vantage point of the enemy emplacement but we couldn't quite see what they were firing at. We heard them screaming about the dead. Specialist Barton was advocating going through with the op but I was reluctant to engage without recon from this third party. \n\nIt uh...it kind of spooked me that this third party hadn't returned fire at all.\n\nMaj Harding: Spooked you?\n\nChief Cooper: (Chuckles) That might have been a poor word choice. The people the tango's were firing at had started to come into view. There were a lot of small fires breaking out and Specialist Rodriguez had brought the larger situation to my attention. We started to hear gunfire all over the city. But these people...there were a lot of women and children in there. They didn't go down when they were shot. \n\nI put the call into Camp Blackhorse (See Addendum A for transcripts) because at this point I was getting concerned.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nAddendum A\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nChief Cooper: Rapier Lead to Scabbard.\n\nCamp Blackhorse: Scabbard here.\n\nChief Cooper: We've got a complication here.\n\nCamp Blackhorse: We've got teams in a dozen different AO's Rapier Lead. You're gonna have to be more specific. \n\nChief Cooper: Mob of civilians rushing our target building. Request drone flyby.\n\nCamp Blackhorse: Wait one Rapier Lead.\n\nChief Cooper: Roger that. (Specialist Barton becomes audible in the background) \n\nSpecialist Barton: Halt! Halt or we will fire! \n\nCamp Blackhorse: Complications Lead?\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nMaj Harding: That's when you engaged the....\n\nChief Cooper: Infected. We came up with a common term when we made it to Camp Blackhorse.\n\nMaj Harding: Carry on. \n\nChief Cooper: Right. Well Specialist Barton began firing at the infected. We began a fighting retreat down a back alley so that we didn't end up trapped on that roof. Specialist Garza used one of our C-4 charges to seal off the alley behind us. If I can speak freely sir?\n\nMaj Harding: Of course Chief.\n\nChief Cooper: We kept goddamn incredible firing discipline for the kind of horror show we were facing. We even stopped and followed bio-hazard protocols once we got a moment to breathe. You can check. We had the best kill count of any of the deployed teams out there. (Chief Cooper appears to regain his composure at this point.)\n\nWe were about a mile out from Camp Blackhorse, when we were forced to engage the infected again. The road we were following terminated at this open air market in southern Kabul. We were running low on ammo and explosives at this point. When I say that the market was our next engagement, that might not be entirely accurate. Our retreat was a pretty consistent running gunfight. The market was our second set piece engagement.\n\nMaj Harding: This was where Charlie Company had holed up?\n\nChief Cooper: Got it in one. They had been going door to door because someone had fired an RPG at their Bradley. Typical shit you deal with in-country you know? The square was absolutely filled with infected. Apparently they had trapped the Rangers inside. \n\nMaj Harding: You didn't try to skirt the square?\n\nChief Cooper: Not for a second. We talked and when it came down to it these were Americans. They were soldiers, brothers. \n\nSpecialist Garza and Petty Officer Smith took up position on two of the rooftops surrounding the square. We moved as quietly as possible.\n\nMaj Harding: Why was that?\n\nChief Cooper: We had found out pretty quickly that the infected were attracted to noise. They overran our original target in seconds. The noise of the gunfire drew them if they were in the area. \n\nWe were running dark luckily. Silencers and all. We had a pretty firm plan set up. Smith and Garza were to draw them to the foot of their respective buildings. We were going to fire rifle grenades into the massed infected under each. \n\nWe were forced to change things when Petty Officer Maddox notified us that T]the fire coming from the apartment block was starting to die off. The Rangers were running out ammo. We didn't have any more time to waste.\n\nI told Specialist Rodriguez to cover me and I...I went for it.\n\nMaj Harding: Be specific Chief.\n\nChief Cooper: Sorry sir. It's a (clears throat)....Sorry. SEALS are always taught to adapt on the fly right? \n\nI adapted. Rodriguez figured it out and told Garza and Smith to light them up. I ran for the Bradley's turret. 25 mil chaingun was gonna be the difference maker. Garza and Smith had drawn them away so I hit the ladder at a run. I opened up on them while they were distracted. \n\nRanger captain was a solid guy. He was grateful for the rescue even if he wasn't all that happy admitting he needed help.\n\nWe rode the Bradley back. The crew had been...\n\nMaj Harding: We know what infected do to people son. No need to say it.\n\nChief Cooper: Thank you...sir. Controls are pretty straight forward so Rodriguez managed to get us back to Camp Blackhorse. That's when we found out that they had it just as bad as we did. \n\nWe linked up with a Delta Force squadron that had been hit a bit harder than us. They were down four guys. We rolled the Bradley right up to the gate and cleared a circle around the fence. \n\nThat fucker Lieutenant Garret wouldn't open the gate until another Delta unit on the inside made him open it.\n\nMaj Harding: We understand that Lieutenant Garret caused problems later on as well.\n\nChief Cooper: You asked me about that first night. We'll be here for days if you want to open up that can of worms. \n\nMaj Harding: Well. Thank you for your time Chief. \n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nEnd of Interview #1 of 10\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n/r/HeyThereGorgeous" ]	1
	[WP] The only thing the writers of post apocalyptic fiction hadn't considered about the end of the world were the park rangers.	[ "It's too late, they tried closing all the doors off and blocking off the windows but there was no time, they were getting picked off one by one. What could they do? The writers were trapped in the dystopian future section of the events hall and the park rangers were coming for them. It's the end of the world, The only thing the writers at the apocalyptic fiction convention didn't think of preparing for was the park rangers..." ]	1
	[WP]As a van slid to a stop in front of a woman, and kidnappers rush out from it, she thought "That's a nice van, I think I'll take it."	[ "Pushing her into the van, she sighed with frustration. Inside was fairly bleak, smelling strongly of gun cleaner and lubricant. These men weren't your typical sidewalk ganster with a six shot for backup, these were financed criminals. Which meant the Chou family, exiled Triads that had setup shop in the last few weeks, or the O'Neils. \n\n\nThey didn't have accents or speak Mandarin. Or Cantonese. \n\n\nShe huffed and got loosed enough to see out of her bag. It's a nice enough van, could use it to help Joanne move those boxes. She thought to herself.\n\n\n\"Keep on going, if the cops catch up, we're toast.\"\n\n\n\"Mr. Wolf, I think it's time for Plan B. Get the girl up.\"\n\n\nSomeone pushed up up forcefully, but in an almost caring way. Strange, given their position. Definitely amateurs.\n\n\n\"What's your name pretty lady?\"\n\n\nSilence.\n\n\n\"We ain't gonna' hurt you, just take you on a little ride. Now, what's your name girl?\"\n\n\nIf he calls me a girl one more time, I will have more than this van by the end of today.\n\n\nStill, no answer. \"Search her pocket, she must have ID.\"\n\n\nFiddling around and coping a feel, she could smell the low grade tobacco he smoked. \"Samantha Williams.\"\n\n\n\"Mr. Wolfie, didn't some girl marry the Prince of Crime? Didn't she start with a Sa? Sarah?\"\n\n\n\"No Mr. Wolf, that was Saman-\"\n\n\nShe heard their sudden hesitation. \"Can't be, too small a world. Plenty of girls named Samantha.\"\n\n\n\"What, with Williams being such a popular surname?\"\n\n\n\"Why don't we just ask her Mr. Wolf?\"\n\n\n\"She don't talk none.\"\n\n\nSighing, she finally peeped up. \"That's a double negative.\"\n\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\n\"Don't talk none. You should say, she does not talk, or she talks none. Don't and none are negative, thus double negative.\"\n\n\nThe pause made even the drive slow down. \"Before you accuse me of being a grammar Nazi, David is going to be very annoyed with me if I miss our dinner date.\"\n\n\n\"David?...\"\n\n\n\"Yes Mr. Wolf. David O'Neil, the Prince of Crime you so adequately put. Now if you could take these chains off...\"\n\n\n\"Boss, we need to think this through. If she's that gal, we-\"\n\n\n\"I would appreciate if you didn't call me any derogatory form of the female term.\"\n\n\n\"Sure sure. Boss, we need to get rid of her. Don't take no chances.\"\n\n\nShe peeped up one last time. \"Double negative.\"\n\n\n\"Whatever, get rid of the broad.\"\n\n\nUnmasking her and taking off her cuffs, the van started to slow. \"I'll need the keys.\"\n\n\nThe men looked around hesitantly. \"There's a blind spot over in the alley by 2nd and Charleston. You move through the alley going west, then there's a door leading to an empty warehouse.\"\n\n\n\"There ain't no way we're giving you this van!\"\n\n\nLooking at her phone, she shook her head. \"Looks like I'm going to be fifteen minutes late. I don't suppose I'll have to get you four to explain to him why I'm late. Either drive me there, which won't work for any of us, or you give me the keys.\"\n\n\n\"What do we do Mr. Wolf?\"\n\n\n\"Yes, Mr. Wolf? I will allow you to help me while helping yourself. They keys, if you will.\"\n\n\n\"But the police don't you! They're chasing this vehicle r-\"\n\n\n\"And they won't find anything, since you four will be long gone.\" She smirked and gestured for the keys again. \n\n\n\"All right, just get out boys! 2nd is only a block away.\"\n\n\nShuffling out of the car, the four men exited the car with haste. She could hear their steps as they scampered away. Hopping into the driver's position, she adjusted the seat and moved the mirrors around. \n\n\nIdiots, don't even know the location of the police stations. She moved the car into gear and puttered back onto the freeway. \n\n\nSometimes it does pay to have the same name as the Prince of Crime's fiance.", "Shawna got out of now useless car and kicked its tire. It seemed to her that everything that could go wrong had gone wrong, today. This morning she'd woke up to the sound of boots clomping on her freshly washed floor, and she lived alone. It'd taken twenty five minutes to dispose of the burglar's body and now she had to re-add \"scrub the floor\" to her list of chores. Her fault, she'd left the window cracked. The heat had been getting to her, and living on the third floor or not, there were metal fire escape stairs that went right past it. If she hadn't taken the Halcion the night before, she'd have probably heard him before he made his way in. That stuff really put her under.\n\nToday she took the time to lock all three of the outside door locks. She didn't need this hassle again. She barely finished the last lock when some asshole slid up beside her, placing her in a firm headlock. \n\n\"Unlock the door, we're going ba...\"\n\nBefore he could finish the sentiment, she bent over, faced her head toward him to allow her to breathe and punched him in the ribs as hard as she could. With lightning speed she grabbed his right hand in hers and used her left to simultaneously gouge his eyes and push his head backward. While he was unbalanced, she kicked his legs out from underneath him and his head made a satisfying CRACK as it hit the floor. He groaned. It didn't look as though he was going to get up.\n\nShe didn't have time to make sure. She'd promised her daughter she'd be at the school play, and she intended to make good on her word. The elevator was open when she got there. No stairs, today. Finally, a little luck!\n\nShe began to hum happily. The little old lady in the elevator with her, glared. \n\n\"I saw you leave that trash on my doorstep. Now you have the nerve to hum about it?\" she said.\n\n\"I'm sorry, Nelly. I'm happy because my daughter's in a play today. She got the lead part. I don't want to miss it. If he's still there when I get back I'll take care of him. Otherwise I'm going to have to owe you one.\"\n\n\"He was bleeding. You're going to have to take care of that, too.\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'm,\" she said, \"I'll bring you back some fresh oranges from the Farmer's Market on the way back, too.\" \n\nThe old woman's face softened and she even looked close to a smile. Nelly loved oranges. Pollinating by hand had made them pretty expensive now that the bees were all gone. Farmer's Markets had the best deals, but you had to know how to haggle and Nelly had come from a time before all that, when a price listed was the price the item was. She'd never learned how to navigate the new system well. Negotiating prices took a lot out of her, both financially and mentally. \n\nShe pulled up her butterfly decorated, freshly re-filtered Respro. No allergies for her. There was a ding and the door opened. The smog made it a bit harder to see than usual, but Shawna had prepared for that as well. She carefully removed the digital \"Rose Colored\" glasses from her pocket and placed them on her face, clicking them on as she did so. A short jingle played as the image quality made everything crisp and the cheerful brightly colored yellows, blues, and pinks outlined everything important, from roads to people. \n\nShe sighed happily and stepped out to seamlessly enter the sidewalk traffic. Her car was parked in the \"D\" lot, two blocks away. She was making good time but she could could cut out a block and a half if she ducked through through the alley. She weighed it in her mind. There was a good chance the worst she'd run into down there were the homeless, trying to find a convenient nook to pee in or hole up to sleep without getting arrested. \n\nShe weighed the odds and decided to chance it. Ducking to the right, she began dancing over the legs of the sleeping and skipping around the trash. Most of it was slightly blurred by the flowers the glasses covered their images with, but not so much she couldn't see what she was avoiding. She had them set to \"cheerful\", the lowest setting. She was nearly to the point the alley opened up to the sidewalk again when out of the corner of her eye, she caught the glint of sliver.\n\nShe bent her left leg and spun with her right, knocking her attacker off their feet. She grabbed the Pistol Shrimp Stun Gun from her holster underneath her jacket and fired. There was a deafening CRACK as the sound waves hit their target. She turned her glasses off long enough to confirm it, and sure enough. It'd been a knife. The man, looked like he was in his mid 50s, but homelessness aged a person quite a bit, was not going to be happy when he came to. She reached down and checked his pulse. He'd live. She did feel a little bad about it, after all she'd invaded his territory. Plus, a good half of the homeless were mentally ill from the lead in the fountains. It was the only water they had access to. Wasn't as though it were his fault.\n\nShe clicked her glasses back on and found herself only a few steps away from her car. Her thoughts once again fell on her daughter. She was so proud to have landed the lead role. \n\n\"Mom, you've got to see this! It's going to be the best play! Your name is going to be on a seat in the front row. You're going to love it.\" \n\nShe was not going to be late. She reached under to unset the safeties she wired onto the car and hopped in. She put the key in and turned the ignition. It slowly cranked. She tried again. It wouldn't start. Her battery was dead.\n\nShe stepped outside the car, closed the door, and re-set the safeties. She kicked the tire for good measure and leaned up against the vehicle, thinking of what to do next. She didn't have time to get a new battery and switch it out. \n\nJust then a van slid to a stop in front of her, kidnappers rushing out from it. \"That's a nice van,\" she thought, \"I think I'll take it.\" It was going to be a glorious day. She couldn't wait to see her daughter.\n\n\n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] One day you wake up to the sound of someone else's thoughts. You realize that the person is plotting to kill you.	[ "For the last few days you had heard them, thoughts that would have never before entered your mind. You had first heard them the night after your mother’s funeral. You imagine that something had snapped in you at the sight of your mother’s cold body lying in her casket. All the condolences from all of the family and friends that had attended had not been enough to pierce the veil of your grief. Perhaps that build up of emotion, stronger than you had ever felt before, had been enough to shock your mind, open it to new possibilities and avenues not yet tread. Regardless of how it happened, you had been able to hear them when you woke the next day, voices screaming for your death.\n\nAt first you were in denial, it was a breathy voice on the wind that you had been able to ignore and rationalize as something that your tired and grieving brain had conjured up. Soon enough though, they grew too strong and loud for you to continue to ignore. Sometimes it whispered, sometimes it yelled, a cacophony of noise that had all come together to tell you of someone’s plans to end your life.\n\nYou felt anger at the voice. To come at you in your time of sorrow and weakness was disgusting, it was like kicking a man while he was down. You were unable to grieve effectively with this voice of dissident in your head. You raged and smashed the things in your small one bedroom apartment, you had no one to confide in now that your mother was gone. You went out and bought the things you thought you would need if someone was truly planning to end your life and it wasn’t just a hallucination brought on by your fevered mind. Guns, Rope, and poisons, all to defend yourself against the one trying to kill you.\n\nYou tried bargaining with the voice. You asked it why it was doing this now of all times? Why not just wait a little while longer until you could get back on your feet after the harrowing experience that was planning your mother’s burial? You couldn’t understand what you had done so wrong to anger someone enough to want to kill you. But the voice ignored you, it continued on with its planning like it couldn’t hear your pleading at all.\n\nIt filled you with depression. If you had really done something so terrible that someone wanted to end your life then who are you to stop them? Who’s to say that you didn’t deserve whatever fate they concocted for you? You lazed about your broken apartment and ignored calls from your concerned friends and coworkers, they wouldn’t understand what it was like to have a malicious voice plotting in the back of their head.\n\nFinally, you found acceptance standing on top of your computer chair. You thought back to your mother telling you to not stand on top of chairs like this because it was dangerous. You smiled in retrospect at how funny it seemed, it didn’t much matter now. There wasn’t anything left that could you hurt you more than her passing did. She had been your friend and confidant, someone that you could go to with all your troubles and she would make them seem insignificant just as she had always been able to. From the time you had slipped and scraped your knee at the park to your first heart break she had been there. She was not here now though, not as you slipped the hanging noose around your neck and kicked the sliding chair out from under you. At least the rope was fulfilling its purpose in ending the life of the one who wanted to hurt you.\n" ]	1
	[WP] Hitler is reincarnated as a cat.	[ "The tin roof was hot, blistering. It was noon, the silence was complete. Everyone stood still, not a meow to be heard, not a whisker to be scratched. Excitement hung in the air.Dozens stood still as one, all eyes fixed on him. He was above all.Alone, proud, his gaze flowing above us, lost in his greatness.He was about to speak.\n\nMy devoted people! Cational Socialists!\n\nThe words echoed in the empty yard behind them.He paused and swept his gaze across the roof, then satisfied with the resolve in their eyes, he continued.\n\nThe hour has now come to speak frankly!\nAs long as we can remember,the proud feline races have been suppressed! After hypocritical declarations that the \"Dog is the man's best friend\" we ware left to fend four ourselves, alone, in the streets, back alleys, garbage dumps! The annihilation of the great Cat Reich is going according to plan.Nevertheless, a new, hate-filled policy against felines began immediately! Internally and externally there came into being that plot, familiar to all of us, between Hoomans and Dogs , with the sole aim of inhibiting the Reich and plunging it into impotence and misery.\n\nCational Socialists!\n\nYou must know this was a hard decision for me to make. The feline race never harbored hostile feelings to the Dogs.However, since the beginning of time the Doggy rulers tried to impose their ideological and more importantly physical domination over our race! The consequences of the activity we can see today,dogs beloved and fed,cats outcast and hated! Alone in misery and starvation!\n\nYou, my brethren, know i always strafed for peace! For dialogue! But enough is enough! Today i have sent my ultimatum to the Doggy Foreign Minister. It was denied.\n\nCational Socialists! \n\nAs a result of that,i made the only possible decision as the responsible leader of the Cats Reich. From this moment we are at war with the Doggys! As we speak,the greatest deployment of forces is taking place to stand against the oppressor. The task is, therefore, not merely the protection of the Cats Reich, but the safeguarding of all felines across the globe!\n\nOur fates are in our heroic feline spirits and the strength of our arms! To war my brothers!\n\nAs he was lifting his snow white paw in the air with the meows of the crowd ecstatically fallowing, a strong thump shook the tin roof.\nThe crowd suddenly scampered.\n\nGet of my roof you damn creatures,i can a man get a minute of sleep around here? For God's sake!\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] write a macgyver style escape scene where the protagonists escape using musical instruments.	[ "He woke up surrounded by tubas.\n\nHis first thought was that you could probably fit a midget in the giant brass instrument, but that doesn't matter. Unless there is a midget in there.\n\nHe was trapped in the band room. The nerds had finally struck back. They all just pounced on him at once. He never stood a chance. There were pocket protectors and taped up glasses flying everywhere. And they locked him in the band room.\n\nThe first thing he did was checked the doors and windows. All locked. And thanks to the government, the glass was bulletproof in case of a shooting, so he couldn't break it. \n\nHe new he was going to either have to crawl through a vent or pick the lock. Now he was a football player at the high school and he had a lot and i mean a LOT of muscle, so he wasn't going to fit in the vents. So he had to pick the lock somehow.\n\nHe started looking looking for things all around, but there was nothing thin enough. \n\nSo he did the logical thing and started punching the door. That didn't work either.\n\nThen he thought that he could make a bomb and blow his way out. So he took valve oil, slide grease, and batteries and dumped it all down a tuba. Then he took out his cigarette lighter and lit a reed and threw it in the tuba and ran to the back of the room. Nothing happened. \n\nSo he picked up the tuba and hit the door with it.\n\nThe doorknob came off. He was free.\n\nHe then heard a muffled screaming sound. It was coming from a different tuba. He looked inside and there was a midget. He pulled it out.\n\nHe and the midget ran off into the sunset and lived happily ever after." ]	1
	[WP] Global warming has gotten to the point that people have to move underground, but due to limited space only certain people are allowed to live underground.	[ "I pleaded with the disembodied voice beyond the door. \"Please, the flood waters have taken my home, but I swear I can be of use to your community!\" I looked back toward the sky desperately. It was still night, but if I was caught out in the daylight I was toast. \"I need shelter, please. There's no time for me to dig a new home!\"\n\n\"I- I'll have to talk to my supervisor about this...\" The woman's voice was smooth and calm. It sounded as though she had done this before. \"If you'll just give me some time, I can go and-\"\n\nI cut her off. \"Please please please, let her know that I can help! I'm great at manual labor, especially digging!\" Frantically, almost as a demonstration, I dug a small hole. \"I don't know if you can see that, but I'm quite good!\"\n\n\"I'll be back and let you know.\"\n\nIt was some time before the voice responded. The moon sank ever closer to the horizon and I kept watch worriedly to the west. I had given up pleading some time before when it was clear that whoever was manning the door had disappeared into the depths of their cave system. All I could do was hope that they'd come to a decision soon- if they were going to at all.\n\nThe sky began to brighten and I could feel the air heating up. Panic gripped me once more- had I been abandoned? Was this it for me?\n\n\"Sir? Are you still there?\" The voice made me jump. The woman who had heard my initial plea had returned! \n\n\"Yes, yes! I'm still here! Did you tell your boss about me? About how I can help! Like I said, I'm a very good digger!\"\n\n\"I told her, but...\"\n\n\"But what? Hurry up, the sun's on its way!\" I started to see the very top of the deadly orb coming over the horizon.\n\n\"Well, she said that we didn't need any more diggers.\" My heart dropped.\n\n\"You don't mean...?\"\n\n\"Yes, I'm sorry. No miners.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Make me scared of what lies beneath.	[ "\"Hey Tom, you want a brew?\"\n\nI looked over at my father, \"nah, I'm good.\" We had been out on the water for about two hours, deep sea fishing. We took some drinks out there with us, some snacks, beef jerky and the like. My sister decided to stay home tonight, saying she didn't feel everything was right.\n\n\"We headin' back now, Dad?\"\n\nHe took a look out on the horizon, watching the sun dip down beneath the sky.\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nI headed down to start the engine, when I noticed something strange:\n\nThe boat had stopped rocking.\n\nThe water was still. The ocean tides stopped for a moment, and an ultimate silence reigned over the black waves. The moon above winked out of the sky, consuming the world in darkness. The boat didn't move. Not a single sound rung out across the expanse. A sort of tension grew in the emptiness, pulling upon the air and rooting inside of my guts.\n\nThen, the water beneath glowed a dull green.\n\nThe boat shook violently, and my hands found themselves against the railing. I peered over into the murky waters. I barely heard my father yelp before he was overboard. I wanted to shout, to call out to him, but I was overwhelmed by an ungodly sense of dread as the water began to really shine.\n\nGreat green beams of light shot past the form of the boat, rays shooting deep into the black sky above. I scrambled to the other side of the boat to find my father, and peered into the deep. The hairs on the back of my neck rose.\n\nI silently screamed into the maw of the great beast.\n\nAnd it was then, He was awoken." ]	1
	[WP][TT] Your mother died in childbirth. At 18, you go through her will. There is one thing your father has never touched. It is a letter she addressed to her unborn child.	[ "Dear Char10, \n\nHappy 18th birthday to my adult son! By the time you read this I will be long gone, but hope is that your father will give you a life you wouldn't trade for any other. \n\nMany people describe their dreams as a career or wealth, but ever since I was old enough to play with dolls my dream has been to have a loving family. To read you bedtime stories, give you baths, take you to school, let you cry on my shoulder, bake you cookies for sleepovers, calm you after nightmares, attend your games, and watch you fall in love. My dream is to witness your wonderful life take place in front of me. \n\nI will not be able to live those dreams, but my dream lives on in you. Every time you close your eyes and feel a hand on your shoulder or a kiss on your cheek, know that it was from me. \n\nRight now is a difficult time for many young men, as it is when you leave home to create your own future. Remember that I will be by your side every step of the way. Never be afraid to take chance. Only those who never tried are the ones who fail. \n\nI love you son, \n\nYour mother", "My Darling Baby,\n\nIf you are reading this letter, I am no longer with you and you have reached adulthood. Know that before you were born, I prayed that your life would be filled with love, joy and friendship. \n\nYour father was always something of a loser, to be honest. It is my hope that your grandparents made sure you had everything you ever needed or wanted. I'm sure that they have always been good to you, along with the rest of your extended family.\n\nI need to let you in on a few things, now that you are old enough to deal with them appropriately. When I was 25, I was engaged to another man. He was killed in an accident. Before he died, he presented me with a beautiful ring and other gifts, which I placed in a security box. Your maternal grandmother has the information for you, and if she has passed please contact the attorney who handled her will. I estimate that the ring, other jewelry and coins should be helpful for your future. In addition, I purchased a few shares of cheap Apple stock that are located there as well. I'm not sure that company was a good investment, but it seemed promising at the time. My hope is that you can put these things to use when the time is right.\n\nKnow that my dream was to spend my life living you, and I did. Please always be kind and make the world a better place at every opportunity.\n\nI love you.\n\nMom" ]	2
	[WP] "I'm sorry I'm late. I lost my keys in an inter-dimensional portal."	[ "The Friday I lost my keys...\nThey fell through the cracks of time, which no man can follow. I had to jump and loop through a vast number of universes to get them. One of which while I was looking frantically for the path my keys could have possibly taken, It was then I was grabbed with a giant force and thrusted around so maniacally. As i tried to regain focus I seen it coming. I was flying towards a large metal, rounded object. I must have got lucky apon impact because a few scrapes of my forehead across the metal, I landed in a crevice. Arms along my side in shock I was, but I wriggled forward even further as if something was guiding me. Soon a gap opened up. \"I can breathe\" I thought at that moment. A moment short lived however as I headbutted a bump, then another. All of a sudden I was stuck. I was absolutely stuck! Not an inch of air between me and my captive barrier. I took another breathe but held it tight as my body began to turn, twisting even. I can say it was an interesting pain as I rolled over, now upside down. That was the good part, I can tell you that for a fact, for what followed was excruciating. Ripped out of my captive but now comfortable shell I was, and fast. It was as if some urgent desire to pee had become over someone without any warning, busting. I watched as pieces of my body that had somehow petruded flew off like sparks of a match. My elbow and knee are no longer, just nubs of grounded bone. The pain was short and fast, the darkness I had somewhat become comfortable was now gone. \"Where am I?\" I thought, fresh air again I smelt. Then as I looked towards the sky i seen it, or him. It was me, but a giant me. Struck like a sense of dejavu, it hit me. \"This is me, today is friday, I lost my keys, but I found them. I am my keys\" " ]	1
	[WP] Our spirits transcend space and time, and as such our ghosts roam the earth even while we're alive. Today, you got bored and decided to haunt yourself.	[ "\"What a fucking idiot,\" I muttered to myself.\n\nThere were so many things in life that I did wrong. Now, in death, I got to look back upon those mistakes. Literally look back on them. Right now I was standing - floating? existing? What exactly does one do as an ethereal being - just next to myself at the age of fourteen. It was my first day of high school.\n\nMy fourteen year old self was examining her appearance in the mirror. She had on a bright red halter top, a pleated blue skirt with two white buttons on the front, black leggings, and red converse sneakers. Her hair was pulled up into two buns on either side of her head, and her eyeshadow was electric blue. As I watched, she finished filling in her black lipstick.\n\n\"You look like a demented Mickey Mouse!\" I shouted. Fourteen year old me, of course, heard nothing. That was one of the perks of being dead: you could kind of just scream what you wanted, whenever you wanted to.\n\n\"Megan!\" our mother called up the stairs. \"Time to go!\"\n\nI followed teenaged Megan downstairs into the kitchen. Mom's eyebrows shot up as she saw Megan. I noticed. Fourteen-year-old Megan didn't.\n\n\"Wow,\" mom said when she recovered herself. \"Don't you look... bold.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" Megan said, giving her a half smile. \"Ready when you are.\"\n\n\"God, this is pathetic,\" I told our mom. \"Are you kidding me? Why didn't you say something?\"\n\nAs they drove off to school, I sat in the space in the car between the driver and the passenger seat. Megan turned the music to the hard rock station, nodding her head along to a beat she thought she could hear.\n\n\"You don't even like this kind of music,\" I told her, turning the dial back to the pop station.\n\nMegan frowned. \"Weird.\" She switched it back. I groaned.\n\n\"So,\" mom said. \"Are you excited?\"\n\nMegan rolled her eyes. \"Good,\" I said to her. \"Really nail down that angsty teen act. You're gonna regret being like that when mom dies in forty years.\"\n\n\"As if,\" Megan replied. But her heart was beating a little too fast, and her palms were starting to sweat.\n\nMom dropped us off just outside the high school. Megan stared at the steps leading into the large, three story building, and swallowed. Swarms of teenagers were heading inside, all chattering mindlessly about summer and the impending school year.\n\n\"Come on, kid.\" I poked Megan in the back. She stumbled forward an inch, then looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Nobody had. She took a deep breath, and headed up the steps into the building.\n\nA few people noticed Megan's outrageous outfit, and raised eyebrows. Others were dressed in similarly bold manners. Others didn't seem to care. Megan pulled the straps of her backpack taut, glancing around at the crowd every few seconds, and then averting her eyes in embarrassment.\n\nThat's when I saw her. To the left, shoving books into her locker.\n\nJackie.\n\nI took a good look at her this time. She was wearing a mint green polo shirt, with black jeans and a pair of brown combat boots. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a tight french braid. She looked like she had just come out of a rodeo. Which was hilarious, considering that Jackie was terrified of horses.\n\n\"Go talk to her,\" I whispered to Megan. But Megan hadn't noticed Jackie. Not yet.\n\nJackie would be the saving grace of high school. Megan had no way of knowing that, yet. She would spend a year trying to flirt with various boys, even dating one for about a month. Jackie wouldn't cross paths with her until the final quarter of the year, and even then it would take a summer for them to strike up a real friendship. In the middle of sophomore year, that friendship would turn into something more. Something worth remembering.\n\nLooking at Jackie now, I felt that pang of love for her that I had felt back then.\n\n\"Megan,\" I said to my fourteen-year-old self. \"You are one dumb bitch.\" Then, using all of my strength, I pushed her sideways, causing her to trip and fall right into Jackie.\n\n\"Sorry,\" Megan stuttered. \"Sorry, I didn't mean to - I tripped.\"\n\n\"It's okay,\" Jackie said, almost equally as flustered. \"Don't worry.\" She raised an eyebrow as she took in Megan's appearance. But in a good way. \"Hey, I like your outfit.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" Megan mumbled, avoiding eye contact. She turned away and hurried down the hallway.\n\nJackie watched her go. Now, from where I stood - floated? Oh, whatever - I could see the beginning of it all in her eyes.\n\n\"Don't worry,\" I told Jackie. \"She'll get there.\"\n\nI'd make sure of it." ]	1
	[WP] The news anchor isn't saying anything. He's just quietly eating a T.V. dinner, sipping on a Diet Coke and staring at the camera	[ "The man's small apartment was dark when he got home and he immediately collapsed face-down onto his couch. He heard the brief sound of fabric tearing. His suit jacket had fit him well when he bought it a few years ago, but now it was a little too tight. He was tired. Jerkily and without getting up, he pulled off the jacket and let it drop to the floor beside the couch. The pool of sweat on the back of his white button-down shirt was hidden in the darkness. His hair hung down in his face and stuck to his forehead. He reached to loosen his tie.\n\nThe apartment was hot, but the faux leather couch was cool against his face. He smiled weakly. He pawed at the handle of a mini-fridge beside the couch and retrieved a can of beer, which he held to his forehead without opening. He opened one eye and saw a shaft of light from a street lamp fall on one of the only other objects in the room, his television. He reached into the darkness until his hand bumped into a table and searched for the remote control. He frowned when he could not find it and he closed his eyes again. His hand rested on the table, outstretched toward the television. He breathed slowly and rhythmically. Beads of water from the can of beer dripped onto the couch.\n\nHe flinched as he became aware of a harsh light against his eyelids. Startled, he guarded his eyes with his hand and sat up. It was still night, but soundless static was displayed from the television. As he looked through his fingers for the remote control, his eyes fell on the can of beer lying on the floor. It was warm when he placed it upright on the table. The remote was not there. The only noise in the room was a \"scritching\" sound as he itched the stubble on his chin.\n\nHe stood up, his knees cracking, and approached the television. He stepped on his discarded and torn jacket and he kicked it aside gently.\n\nHe peered at the buttons on the television. He could not make out the labels. Reaching out, he pressed the first one and heard a brief click-click, then reeled as the noise of static filled the small room. Quickly he pressed it again and the noise subsided.\n\nHe pressed the next button. Click-click. The image changed, and into focus snapped another man, younger than himself. He considered this young man in the television. He sat behind a desk. His hair was well groomed, and he was freshly shaved and wearing a well-fitting suit. However, the young man's eyes looked tired, and the bags under them sagged deeply. The young man's expression seemed to convey a sort of expectant indifference.\n\nThe young man was staring directly back into the apartment, or into the camera, without moving his lips or making any expression. Occasionally he blinked. On the desk next to him was a can of beer that he would sometimes raise to his lips to sip.\n\nThe man in the apartment considered this young man on the television screen. He reached to unmute the television again. Click-click. The young man reached again for the can of beer and there was a light tap as he set it back down. Other than that, there was still no sound in the apartment. The man in the apartment looked behind him, at the table in front of his couch. The can of beer sat unopened. He noticed his shadow large upon the wall behind him. The man in the apartment shifted his weight uneasily.\n\nHe faced the television again and took a step back. Seeing the young man staring back at him with all the light in the room upon him, he felt strangely exposed. The young man made no reaction.\n\nThe man suddenly felt like he was the one being watched, and he had an impulse to speak. He opened his mouth, but did not know what to say. His straightened his tie and smoothed the hair away from his face, and he looked around for his suit jacket. He bent low to pick it up, keeping his eyes on the screen. His eyes were opened wide in surprise and he looked back at the young man watching him. He gestured uncertainly toward himself in a formation of a question, and his eyes took on a note of pleading. The young man's expression did not change, still the same mixture of expectation and lack of interest.\n\nThe young man appeared to sigh and reached off-camera. His hand returned holding a remote control, which he pointed toward the man in the apartment. There was a brief click-click noise, and darkness again filled the small room. The man in the apartment looked down at himself, almost as if to make sure he were still real, and then back up at the television. The beam of light from the street lamp reflected off the glossy television screen, and he saw a reflection of himself alone in his apartment. He suddenly felt very tired. He dropped his jacket and laid down on the couch to sleep.", "I stood behind camera two.\n\nCurrently, a reporter in the field was on air, which gave the people out on the studio floor some time to catch their breath.\n\nThe director, over the headset, said, \"Alright, he's almost done. About thirty seconds left.\"\n\nThe floor director moved quickly beside my camera. She crossed her arms into an X with her hands in fists and said, \"Thirty seconds!\"\n\nThe anchor gave a subtle nod to acknowledge her.\n\nThen, the floor director pointed to my camera and said, \"We'll be coming back on camera two.\"\n\nHe gave the subtle nod once again.\n\nMeanwhile, I was double checking to make sure that my shot was good. Through the viewfinder, I saw that the anchor was already looking into the camera (which made framing him easier). I had a medium shot of him. He was vertically centered and had enough headroom. Seeing this, I realized my framing was correct, which meant I was ready.\n\nThe director said, \"Give the standby cue.\"\n\nThe floor director raised an open hand with closed fingers. Her arm was at a 90 degree angle. She said, \"Standby\" and the studio floor got quiet.\n\nThe anchor sat up to fix his posture, which meant I had to tilt up the camera to ensure he still had enough headroom.\n\nThe director said \"Fifteen seconds.\"\n\nThe floor director showed \"five\" in one had and while the other hand showed \"one\" directly in front of it. She echoed, \"Fifteen seconds!\"\n\nThe host opened a drawer in the desk and got out a plastic bag with a sandwich and an unopened can of Diet Coke. Even though nobody said it, everyone else was probably thinking something along the lines of \"What is he doing!?\"\n\nThen, the director, showing some of his confusion with his tone, says, \"Alright, 10, 9, 8,...\"\n\nMeanwhile, the floor director, who seems about equally confused, is echoing the countdown while also showing it on her fingers.\n\nAs the countdown continues, I hear the frustration growing in the director and floor director's voices.\n\nThey both continued, \"...5, 4, 3, 2,...\"\n\nThen the director said \"One\" while the floor director only showed it on her index finger. Then, she pointed at the anchor as my tally light came on. We were now officially live.\n\nThe anchor took the sandwich out of the bag and proceeded to take a bite.\n\nThe director asked to no one in particular, \"Does he understand that we are live!?\"\n\nThe floor director pointed toward the tally light on my camera. \n\nThe anchor saw the signal, he didn't stop what he was doing. In fact, he continued to look into my camera while chewing his sandwich. Something told me he knew we were live, but he just didn't care. It sure was confusing.\n\nThe floor director covered her mouth and told the director, \"He sees my hand signals, but he isn't stopping.\"\n\nThe director replied, \"Keep trying to signal to him.\" \n\nThe floor director went through all sorts of relevant cues to get his attention. The problem was that he saw them, but he continued eating.\n\nThe director audibly exhaled then said, \"I'm not going to let this get to me. If that's how he wants to get fired, then so be it.\"\n\nSoon, the anchor opened up his Diet Coke to drink some of it.", "The broadcast had been on for nearly twenty minutes, and not a single word had been spoken by star anchor Julian Hoss. Still the viewing audience seemed to multiply by the moment. Anticipating what was to come, whatever it was. Only, it seemed as if nothing would happen other than this strange, sandwich broadcast. \n\nUntil, halfway through the sandwich;\n\n\"So,\" He finally said in between mouthfulls of his pastrami sandwich. He picked up his diet coke and sipped on the straw, and looked directly into the camera. He frowned and reached down to pick the sandwich back up. \"I'm not supposed to be here.\" Licking his lips, he leaned down and took another, large bite of pastrami. \n\nHe sat there for a minutes longer, just chewing on his sandwich and drinking his coke. \"It's been a few years,\" he murmured, looking down at what was left in front of him, \"Since I've allowed myself to eat something like this. Or,\" He reached down and lifted up the coke, as if to toast the camera, \"Even thought about drinking a sugary, delicious soda. But, tonight, tonight felt like an important night.\" \n\nSetting teh drink back down, his tongue swiped across the front of his perfect teeth, and he looked directly into the camera. \"Last evening. Every news station in the country was suddenly cut from their networks.\" He shrugged, scooting closer and resting his elbow on the table. \"Soon the power will be shut off.\" His chin fell to his hand and he looked off screen, almost as in a daze. \n\n\"I'm sorry,\" He said. Slowly, he turned his attention back to the camera. \"The election should have gone differently, and I aided in providing you false information. I went along with the status quo, and in doing so, I've, well,\" He smirked with a small laugh as he pulled away from the desk and raised his arms wide on either side of him, \"I've killed us all. Anderson Cooper was found dead in his home, just a couple hours ago. Of course - you dont know that.\" \n\nHe laughed again, standing up and running his hand across his face. \"Many other reports who have outwardly opposed the alt-right - NEWSFLASH, by the way, in case you're one of those who haven't realized it yet, they're definitely Nazi's - Breaking news, am I right?\" His laughter grew a little more manic, as a loud banging echoed through the mics. \"Don't mind that,\" He murmured, waving his arms offhandedly, \"It'll be a few minutes before they come in. They'll cut the feet when they do. I'll die, when they do. \n\n\"Just like Megyn. And all the other national broadcasters have!\" \n\nHe took a deep breath and plopped back down into his chair, and picked up the sandwich, almost angrily biting in it. It was all teeth, ripping in half and falling from his mouth. \"You know -,\" He said through the mouth full as he reached across the table and picked up the diet coke again. \"You're not supposed to know. But we're all going to die.\n\n\"He's trying to silence us. To let you die thinking he was a hero. Or a God,\" He paused, midchew and nodded to himself, mouth downturned, \"Definitely wants you to think he's a God. And he is.\" He took a long, agonizing sip of the diet coke as another crash sounded outside the room. \n\n\"He's the God of Death. Your president. And after he kills me - I'm sorry - after his military kills me, there will be nobody to warn you. And since I'm already going to die no matter what I die - I don't give a damn what kind of promise the bastard made - I figured it was best you all died knowing the truth. \n\n\"In four hours three missiles will land on U.S. Soil. New York will receive the first, because we can't catch a break here, obviously. One in Los Angeles, courtesy of North Korea. And one in D.C. - courtesy of, well, I don't know. One of the countries Donald Trump sent a nuke to earlier today.\" \n\nHe laughed again, leaning forward on his arms, barely even sitting in the chair anymore. \"America. The Queen said something your president was offended by, and he sent a missile to England. The allies have all abandoned us. Canada is no safe haven.\" Suddenly a crash richoted through the screen, and Julian Hoss, looked at the camera wide eyed. He backed away from the desk and looked into the camera. \n\n\"Goodnight from MSNBC, this has been Julian Hoss. I'll see you all in h-,\"\n\nAnd then, before three million peoples eyes, a bullet sped across the screen, and imbedded itself in Julian's head. \n\nThen off screen, a boisterous voice called, \"I have the BEST military!\" A hand waved just on the corner of the screen, small and orange. \"Is he dead? I dont do well with dead things. But I make the best dead things.\"\n\n\"Mr. President, you were supposed to stay on the plane -,\" \n\n\"Bannon said I could get off the plane if I wanted.\" \n\n", "I flipped rapidly through the channels, frantically looking for more information. There had to be more information. Alternatives. Some hope. \n\nThen I saw Chuck Dancer. He's the local news anchor, which anymore meant he read summaries of AP stories, then reported some local puff pieces. Tonight he was just sitting at the news desk, eating a sandwich.\n\nHe looked calmly at the camera from time to time, often while methodically chewing a too big bite of a hefty roast beef sandwich. His piercing blue eyes seemed to beckon me to sit down and join him. I went into the kitchen, quickly fixed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then sat on the couch. We ate together in silence. \n\nEventually Chuck took one last swig from his Diet Coke, gave a quick nod and wave to the camera, and walked off set. I finished my sandwich while the camera dutifully filmed the empty news studio. \n\nI switched the TV over to one of the national news stations. Their anchors had left too, the screen instead filled with a timer. ESTIMATED TIME UNTIL ASTEROID IMPACT: 01:54:37.", "\"Phil! PHIL! We're live\" \n\nHe took another bite of his TV dinner and chewed, continuing to look at the camera.\n\nHe swallowed. \"I know\" \n\n\"Uhhh.. \"\n\n\"Good evening, viewers. I have been giving you the news for twenty five years now. I am an old man, but I'm not blind. I know if I just tell you what I have to say, it will get buried - but eating my dinner? That's going viral\" \n\nTonight's lead story doesn't matter. Nor do the next three stories I'm authorized to tell you. What matters is the Fake News Control Act of 2018 has passed, and only Authorized Facts can now be reported. Funny enough, that Act passing isn't authorized. \n\n\"Other unauthorized news that I'm not allowed to include \n\n\nDUE TO TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES WE MUST INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM" ]	5
	[WP] Video games have been your whole life...to the point that you're starting to see the technical glitches in 'real' life.	[ "Blink Finally, project DE DUST is a go. I couldn't tell you how long my squad has been chasing this damn terrorist group but I've had enough. \n\nBlink Silence. We pray to our Lord and thank him for bringing us here safely. \n\nBlink A pistol? Could have sworn I brought my rifle.\n\nBlink I see all gray with white letters but the image instantly disappeared\n\nBlink This heat is getting to me, probably staring at the files for too long. I take hold of my M4A1, ready for combat.\n\nBlink \"RUSH LONG! RUSH LONG\" I shout. \"FLASH INCOMING!\". \n\nBlink Heavy fire surrounds me as I run through two doors and towards cover. I see one enemy, blinded by a flash grenade, trying to take cover. I crouch...thutthutthut...thutthut... 5 bullets later and he was dead. \n\nBlink My squad rushes in after me, swarming through the tiny pathway. All I hear is the sounds of bullets flying and grenades exploding. \n\nBlink We press forward as our enemies are severely outnumbered and caught unexpected.\n\nBlink \"WATCH THE SNIPER\" I yell. \n\nBlink Gray again but with yellow and blue letters. CS_Nub highlighted in yellow. Am I hallucinating? \n\nBlink I run out from cover, thutthutthutthut...thutthutthutthut\n\nBlink I hear \"Counter-Terrorists win\" in my headset.\n\nBlink Finally, project DE DUST is a go. I couldn't tell you how long my squad has been chasing this damn terrorist group but I've had enough. \n\nBlink Silence. We pray to our Lord and thank him for bringing us here safely. ", "\"Refresh, refresh, refresh.\"\n\n\"Please don't touch my face, sir.\"\n\n\"Oh, sorry, I thought you were somebody else. Everything's kind of pixelated.\"\n\n\"Sir, if you're not going to buy anything, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.\"\n\n\"Sorry, this will just take a minute.\"\n\n\"That's an expensive handbag, sir.\"\n\n\"Handbag? No, this is my rucksack. For scavenging. And Doritos.\"\n\n\"Sir?\"\n\n\"I'm just trying to refill my health bar before I head back out.\"\n\n\"There's a hospital three blocks from here if you need to see someone.\"\n\n\"No, that'll cost me all of my gold.\"\n\n\"I would strongly suggest you go see someone there.\"\n\n\"Can I just get my potions sorted out here, first?\"\n\n\"Candles and incense are for paying customers, sir. Please take those things out of the bag. Just leave the bag here on the counter, will you?\"\n\n\"What's going on over here?\" boomed a deep bass.\n\nBoth the saleswoman and the boy in armor announced at once, \"Thank goodness you're here!\"\n\nThe saleswoman gestured. \"Tom, can you deal with this gentleman? He's making a scene.\"\n\n\"Young man,\" the uniformed security officer began, \"do you have everything you need?\"\n\n\"I'm just trying to figure out how many potions to bring along. I'll get weighed down if I go crazy with them.\"\n\nTom nodded. \"Good thinking, champ.\" He hefted a vanilla bean-scented candle and took a long breath. \"Oh, that's a strong one.\"\n\n\"Yes, with that I can likely revive a friend fallen near death's door.\"\n\nTom agreed. \"Take it, and the other one--the one from the mists.\" He offered another candle and the young man took a sniff. \"It will ward off the marshmen.\"\n\n\"My thanks to you, good sir.\"\n\n\"And here,\" the security guard unbuckled his belt and handed over his flashlight and gun. \"In time of great need this torch will guide and the sword will aid you.\"\n\n\"Tom, what the hell are you doing!\"\n\n\"Go,\" screamed Tom, \"I will hold her off! Godspeed ye!\"\n\nThe boy shook his hand and threw ten Yankee candles and the pistol into his Gucci bag. The flashlight he held aloft: \"I won't fail you!\"\n\n\"You've already saved us,\" Tom whispered.\n\nThe saleswoman barked into her phone: \"I'm going to need security for the security.\"\n\n---------\n\nr/GubbinalWrites\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] "Sometimes, the bright side just makes it easier to see the chaos of the world we've found ourselves in."	[ "Daniel was in a terribly hopeless situation.\n\nOnly moments ago, Daniel was kidnapped by a group of masked men, driven away, dragged into an unknown home, and thrown into a locked closet. He laid on the floor, eyes blindfolded, hands bound behind his back, and his pockets emptied. With so many possibilities of coordinating an escape out of his reach, Daniel's situation simply looked hopeless.\n\nDespite of the plainly bleak and impossible scenario, Daniel decided he'd rather not wait around to find out what negative fate his captives had for him. His motivation built up inside him, but with no clear sight of a means of escape, he was unable to convert that motivation into action.\n\nBut then Daniel thought, what if his mindset was not letting him see straight? Simply hopeless? Plainly bleak? It seemed like these two ideas, simplicity and difficulty, were tied together, much like the duct tape around his wrists. Then what would be the opposite? Complexity and ease? If that's the case, thought Daniel, then perhaps looking at his situation as a complex one would help him find an answer.\n\nFirst, what senses did he have? He could certainly still hear, smell, taste, and feel. That's already four! He could tell he was on his side, he felt like five minutes had gone by since being locked inside, and he could feel his heart race.\n\nHe decided he'd first prop himself up. He wriggled over to a nearby wall, and readjusted his legs frontwards, then firmly planted them into the hardwood floor. Pressing his weight against the wall, Daniel shimmied his backside upwards until he stood straight.\n\nAs long as he could feel, Daniel thought, he could map out the room. He walked along the wall, feeling the consistent grooves of wood-paneling until his shoulder found a corner.\n\nHe turned his body and continued, only to soon find a wooden door, with a small hole where the knob should be. Cool air tickled his hand. He lightly kicked the door with the back of his foot - the knock echoed a bit. From the reverberations, Daniel realized this was not the thickest door. Had he more room to work with, he could possibly bust it down.\n\nBefore he could think further, the familiar sound of a metal folding chair moving slightly across the floor just outside the door could be heard.\n\nBOOM!\n\nA thundering knock at the door Daniel that stood against sent Daniel flying one steps forward and into the wall. He suddenly felt a small, sharp pain in his right thigh, and reflexively pulled his leg away as he leaned his tossed against the wall.\n\nA hearty chuckle sounded from the other side of the door, along with another shift of a metal chair and some rustling sound. A book? Newspaper?\n\nDaniel was nervous and curious about the pain in his thigh, but was unable to touch his wound with his hands. But what was the cause? His pockets certainly felt empty, so was it the wall? He turned around, squatted down, and carefully felt out the surface out. Sure enough, a pointedly painful screw was slightly protruding from the wood paneling.\n\nWhere Daniel found his source of pain, he also found a solution. He lowered his arms and repeatedly pierced and sliced at the duct tape binding his wrists. He could feel and hear some give to the tape, and pressed on.\n\nAfter a few determined minutes, Daniel finally cut the remaining strands of the tape apart, freeing his hands and arms. He waved his arms around a bit to rejuvenate his muscles, then loosened the knot of his blindfold to remove it.\n\nIt did not take long for his eyes to adjust. The closet was dark, save for some illumination coming through the hole in the door and the crack between the door and ground. The knob hole had some mechanical functions visible; Daniel could possibly tinker with these to open it.\n\nHe looked to the space above him, and was delighted to find a shelf mounted just out-of-reach, a horizontal wooden rod for hanging coats installed between the two walls, and a wire coat hanger hanging from the rod. Despite their simplicity, Daniel counted numerous possibilities for escape.\n\nHe could fashion the wire into a weapon to defend himself from the guard.\n\nHe could similarly force the wooden rod from the wall, using it to ward off his captors.\n\nHe could also use the narrow walls to prop his body horizontally, and carefully walk up the walls to hide on the topside shelf. The panic that his captors would face, realizing their captive was gone, would surely yield even more possibilities for escape!\n\nDespite not quite being out of the woods, Daniel was reassured of his chances for survival after looking for complexity from a seemingly simple situation. From chaos, came hope." ]	1
I watched a new video from Kurzgesagt on YouTube and thought that this is an interesting idea.	[WP]We have not been able to leave Earth and the reason turns out to be that we owe the universe a debt that's 4,5 billion years old.	[ "It is an almost sickening irony that they no longer remember the pain they brought to the universe. They feel no remorse for the trillions of souls they condemned, or the countless planets they left barren. I wish that they could comprehend the crimes they committed, but the alliance saw fit to let them live in ignorance so that they would not remember their power. The alliance erased all evidence and memory of the Earth that was, and instead of allowing Humanity to suffer and die - gave them a second chance. They rebuilt the destroyed planet from scratch so that the children of Terra could rise again.\n\nIt has been 4.5 Billion years since that vile nation known only as \"The Dominion\" sprung up from the ancient planet Earth and brought the universe to her knees. From the moment they made contact with any other species, be they space faring or not, they had one demand: Surrender or perish. Their weapons technologies surpassed that of any known race, and celestial empires fell like dominoes while the underdeveloped races they were defending were ripped from their worlds and shown the reality of the advanced universe and her countless children. Humanity forced the mighty Provian Empire to become slaves to their demands, as they forced the peaceful beings in the Oria systems into extinction. No treaty, no ceasefire, not capitulation was ever enough to satiate their thirst for blood and power.\n\nFor a millennia we had fought independently to try to kill the human scourge, but like a plague she kept returning and adapting. Until the birth of the alliance. Their rise ended a billion year war in the Outer Arm, and united the severed confederations of the core for the sole purpose of a unified front against The Dominion. The process of pushing back the waves of bloodthirsty tyranny was a slow one, and not every member state of the alliance survived the fight. The battlefields still litter Orion's Belt, and Alpha Centauri still remains as the hollow grave of a once great people. Every member sacrificed - some sacrificed everything. After two millennia we were finally able to push humanity back into their homeworlds - where we made every planet in the Sol system lifeless.\n\nExcept for one. We restored Earth, an act I still believe to be foolish. We still have yet to regain our former glory, while the ignorant humanity toils away in an instinctual attempt to reach for the stars. They don't know why they are drawn off of their planet, but every being in the galaxy remembers the true story of humanity. We remember how thirsty they are to conquer the universe, and that is a trait that we could not erase from their memories. \n\nThe alliance claims that they are paying their debt by being forced to start over, and that the new humanity will be completely different from the beasts of which they are descended. That is a narrative I refuse to accept\n\nWe should have killed them when we had the chance." ]	1
	[WP] Good News: Your time stopping device works. Bad News: There is now no one to turn it off, since time stopped. Worse: God is PISSED	[ "Time is going, as it always is. This is just a detour, an unannounced stop. Don't be mistakened though; time is going.\n\n\nMy beliefs were wrong. It happens to all of us sometime or the other. I like to think it makes me better than most that I can admit I am wrong. It probably makes me the same despicable person I always was though. Who can say?\n\n\nI have learned to stop time. It was easier than you would have thought. The world zeroes in and everything goes still. You can't imagine how still it all is. I can't explain it. But time has stopped. And I had taken advantage of it.\n\n\nDo you want me to tell you? Would you rather guess? Let your imagination run wild. Let it go to the darkest corners of depravity. Let it wreak havoc on the weak, the useless, the still.\n\n\nThat was how I was. It is how I am. I had fun with you. I had my fill. But I was not alone. Not everything bows to time. Not everything was as I thought it was. I was wrong, remember? Very wrong.\n\n\nGod exists though not in the way you may think. He is not good. He is not a caring Father that all the great books say. He is just a Man, flawed like the rest of us. He means well, but I do not think He tries as hard as he could. I can't say He's completely Almighty.\n\n\nBut He exists and I have gotten Him upset. Perhaps I was too evil. Perhaps it was too much. Humans are not kind beings by nature. Take away the rules for one, and he becomes a King. He becomes a savage. He becomes me. \n\n\nGod could not stand it all and so He came down, all around, and yet nowhere at once. He was upset, still is, of course. But he cannot get me to stop. He cannot undo my stopping of time. It is one of those things that is beyond even His reach, for he thought no one could ever reach so far.\n\n\nSo now He is powerless, but I am threatened. I am damned. I am doomed. For the time being, I am safe. I am free to use you as I please. I am free to take your life in a lark. I am free to be greater than God Himself as He sulks in his corner of eternity, powerless to it all. I am free. Yes, I am free.\n\n\nBut time is going as I said. It is moving on, always going ahead, never sitting still. This is but a detour. My carnage is temporary as is my asylum. Eventually I will grow bored. Eventually it will all stop and you will have to deal with consequences. Eventually time will continue. I will face the Maker then, the uncaring Father that He may be, and I will suffer my fate. I cannot run away. There is little I can do. This is the final moment of my life, my last second. I will see how long I can make it last.", "I pressed the button, staring at the clock. As soon as I did, the hands stopped moving. To be sure, I had place three other clocks beside it. They had all stopped. Time had stopped. I let out a cry of elation, and was surprised to hear myself. If time had stopped, surely the sound wouldn't have carried.\n\n\"Oh, well done mortal. You managed to stop time. Now, just one small question, how will you restart it?\"\n\nI spun around, and there, facing me, was an old man. He wore all white, and seemed to radiate a light from his body.\n\n\"Who are you? How did you get in here? If time is stopped, how can I hear you speak?\"\n\n\"You can hear me because souls can communicate instantaneously. You're not hearing me per se, but rather interpreting the communication as sound. As for the first two questions, I am God. And I am less than happy that your experiment has succeeded, boy.\"\n\nIt didn't really make sense that some random old man would be able to find his way in, so I decided to roll with it for the moment.\n\n\"Okay, say I believe you, that you're God. You want to know how I'll restart time? I'll simply press the button again.\"\n\nHe smiled. \"Well, if you think it's that simple, go ahead. Be my guest.\" He gestured to the machine behind me.\n\nI turned to press the button, only to see someone between me and the machine. Not just anyone, but me. The other me was already pressing the button down, and was perfectly motionless.\n\n\"Wha- what?\" I took a step back.\n\n\"Isn't it obvious, child. Time is stopped, so of course your body can't move. And for that matter, even if it could, in this moment, that machine will always be active, so time will always be stopped. Do you understand now? The graveness of your actions, do you understand, mortal?\"\n\n\"I- I never meant for this to happen. I didn't think this would happen. Can't you fix this.\"\n\n\"No, for two reasons. First, in order to work changes, I need my physical body, which can't move, because someone stopped time. Second, I made time mutable, so that I could change it if I need be, but you, you have just rendered it immutable. Inviolable. You have stopped time, forever. From now on, not that that phrase has any meaning anymore, there is no time. Everything that will happen, is happening right now, simultaneously.\"\n\n\"So why do I only have this happening progressively then?\"\n\n\"Well, that's because you are used to parsing things that way, and so will continue to do so, for now.\"\n\n\"Which is now the same as forever?\"\n\n\"Indeed.\"\n\nI took a step back, the implications setting in rapidly.\n\n\"So, everyone is in this state.\" I didn't phrase it as a question, because I already knew the answer. God answered anyway.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"I've really screwed up on this one, haven't I?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Shit.\"\n\nI looked around the room, everything that was in the air, hung suspended. My body, the machine, and the very walls of the room might as well have all been carved from a single large rock for how they were all held in place together.\n\n\"So what do we do now?\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I don't know. Maybe we can find a way out of this?\"\n\n\"No. It's impossible. Can't be done.\"\n\n\"Shit.\"\n\n\"Indeed.\"\n\n\"Can you give me a moment please?\"\n\n\"No. Now, all I can give you is an instant.\"\n\n\"Oh, bloody hilarious. You know what I mean.\"\n\n\"Fine, but we shall talk again. Farewell mortal. I'll be around, see you now.\"\n\nI waved as he walked off, the headache starting to kick in. I looked over at the machine, trying to figure out how to restart time. After all, I had stopped it, surely I could figure out how to start it back up again." ]	2
	[WP] You're a guardian angel, but you absolutely loathe the person that you're assigned to protect.	[ "Gunshots. Dust. Blood. Scorching heat.\n\nI watch as my client monitors the perimeter, nervously trying to light his cigarette. Ridden with dirt, bloodstains and debris, his persona watches the battle below the base, a bunch of wild animals set free.\n\nAs I sit on his Humvee, invisible to all but God, I stared at this homunculus of a man, tiny and fidgeting amidst all this ruckus and disaster. An unholy anger began to seep on me, coating me like the blood on your uniform, threatening to engulf me.\n\nLike a distant dream, I remember when God has assigned me to protect you--you were eighteen and recently drafted, yet it was obvious from the start you couldn't handle it. Cried at the commander's instructions. Bullied by fellow recruits. I tried my best to shield you from pain and suffering, yet you did nothing to stop it from pursuing you. You allowed their harsh words, punches and kicks to reach you, while I stand beside you, tied by the strings of Divine Protocol, unable to protect you. I loathed you for that--you essentially made my role worthless.\n\nYou were barely deemed worthy of being deployed and was thrust upon a battlefield I was sure you will not last long in. But you did--and with the most despicable of methods. I remember a dark night where I cried in agony, seeing the remains of a man you shot in cowardice, fearing a bomb when the man had none. My heart bled out in pain as you fired that mortar, knowing that in a few minutes, it will hit thirty people who loved and lived. I saw with half-lidded eyes you just standing there, guarding your fellowmen as they repaired your unit's broken-down Humvee, pretending not to notice the crying, screaming pleads of a boy being raped by the father two blocks behind you. You drove away from evil, you drove away from what was right to do just to save yourself, and I was quiet and livid as I flew beside you the rest of the way--I heard that boy's last dying blood-gurgled breath. You were unworthy to protect, I concluded.\n\nYet you did the worst sin of all--you made me doubt Him.\n\nI watched as you sent little trinkets to your family, keeping the letters well away from the blood on your hands. I watched as you cried yourself to sleep, cursing high command, cursing the Taliban, wishing to just die and not allow your hands to hurt, to slaughter, to destroy. I remember seeing your single mother, tears spilling out of her eyes as she hugged you tight, expecting you to come home. \n\nYou were just someone who wanted to come back to those arms again.\n\nMaybe that's why I hate you so much, in retrospect. You reminded me that I wasn't an angel--I was just a soldier like you, sent into a pointless war.", "\"Is today the day? Come on, tell me today is the day.\" He eagerly hopped up and down next to me watching the people below.\n\n\"No! I'm a guardian angel I'm sworn to protect! Now please I need to focus.\"\n\n\"You know why you need to focus so much? Cuz the guy is an imbecile! Look at'em he's about to get hit by that car!\"\n\nThe dimwit casually jay walked through a busy intersection staring at his phone... as if he had any friends. A blue minivan carelessly sped towards him.\n\n\"Son of a... be right back!\"\n\n\"How was it? How did'ya get him out of that one? Last minute swerve? That feeling like he forgot something and had to stop to think about it? Or wait, wait, my personal favorite, that feeling of the explosive shits? Where he HAS to run back home?!\" He bellowed in laughter, \"That one cracks me up EVERY. TIME!\"\n\n\"You don't understand how annoying this guy is! Thirty-two years old and everyday I have to save him at least 10 times! You know the other day he nearly drowned himself?!\"\n\n\"That happens more than you think.\"\n\n\"At a water fountain?!\"\n\nHis mouth dropped but quickly grew into a grin, \"Uhh that would have been a first... why didn't anyone call me?\"\n\n\"This is ridiculous, I've been watching him for thirty-two human years.. ONLY HIM! All the other guardians watch over 10 humans each! I have only him! How am I ever going to get promoted?!\"\n\n\"You're serious only him?! Dude, you're in it for the long haul,\" he reached out to pat my back but a honk from one of the cars below caused me to turn and miss his touch.\n\n\"Did you just almost pat my back?!\"\n\n\"Oh sorry, I get a little carried away. So uhh same time tomorrow?\"\n\n\"Yea Death, I'll see you then.\"\n\n\n-----------------------------------------------\n\n\"Did you see that?!\"\n\n\"Yep, that angel is going to get himself killed hanging out with Death like that.\"\n\n\"Its ridiculous, I've been watching this angel for years! Only him everyday I have to save him at least 10 times!\"\n\n\"Oh, so that car honking distracting him was you?!\"\n\n\"Of course it was me! Jeez I'm never going to get promoted this way.\"" ]	2
	[WP] Most horror movie villains have enough rules to be written on a napkin. The one stalking you needs a book.	[ "I woke up in a hospital bed. Unfortunate, to say the least, I'd been hit by a car on my way to work-I was not similarly in a car. The walk signal was on, but someone decided he was so entitled as to make a right turn anyways.\n\nEither way, my room was dark, yet I couldn't sleep. There was a foreboding atmosphere, only cut by the steady beat of my heartrate meter. A sort of whir, cut by the sound of a door opening.\n\n\"Who's there?\" I said, quietly. My heart rate was apparently increasing, just by the sound of the machinery.\n\n^\"...\"\n\n\"Who's there!\" I said, a bit louder.\n\nNo reply. The window was open for some reason, so I pressed a button on my bed to close it.\n\nIt closed with a satisfying sweep.\n\nI sighed and looked up at the ceiling. I'd never been afraid of hospitals before...\n\nHummed, to take my mind off the small frights. The machinery stopped beating so quickly.\n\nTime passed, and my broken bones wouldn't move anyways.\n\nThe window slowly creaked open. It was fairly windy as well, so it made a rather obnoxious sound, blowing through just a tiny gap in the window.\n\nEven as I made to close the window, the door creaked open. I tried to calm myself.\n\nMy heartrate still rose.\n\n\"Who are you!?\" I nigh shouted.\n\nAs my heartrate rose, the door shut again.\n\nI closed the window and hit the call button.\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\nSomeone answered over the com. A doctor, female. \"Someone keeps entering my room.\"\n\nA pause. \"Oh. It's that person. You got clipped by a right-turner, didn't you?\"\n\n\"...Yeah...?\"\n\n\"Shit!\" She paused. \"Ok. You'll be fine, don't panic. They only attack between 2 and 3 AM, if the window's open and the winds are over 10 meters per second. They also won't kill anyone with a heart rate over 130 BPM- you're lucky you were still awake. They also only frequent this hospital on Saturday, and-\"\n\n\"Wait, wait- when do they kill people?\"\n\n\"We don't know, because they're already dead by then. Look, it's almost over- you're fine for tonight.\n\n\"Have they ever thought about... you know, instead deciding when it can be done rather than when it can't?\n\nThe door shut.\n\n\"...Apparently not.\"" ]	1
	[WP] After death, you find yourself in a lobby; everyone's scores are displayed on a screen.	[ "LEADERBOARD RESULTS: \n\n1) David Harris; Love: 2,163. Kindness: 11,029. Regret: 20. Selflessness: 9,843. \n\n2) Carrie Wright; Love: 1,992. Kindness: 11,015. Regret: 45. Selflessness: 9,842. \n\n3) Jaime Dietzel; Love: 1,857. Kindness: 10,861. Regret: 47. Selflessness: 9,424. \n\n4) Dylan Albright; Love: 1,576. Kindness: 9,457. Regret: 67. Selflessness: 9,634. \n\nKendra looked at the brightly lit screen, trying to decipher the meaning of the numbers next to the words. Maybe you got points for... fuck. She didn't know. \n\n\"Do you have any idea what this means?\" She asked the person next to her. \n\nThe guy looked up from a thin book, \"Uh, not really. I'm still trying to make sense of this handbook.\" \n\nKendra frowned again, \"I wonder if anyone is going to explain it.\" \n\nAs if on cue, a loud speaker crackled and a woman's voice came over the intercom. \n\n\"Welcome. The eight of you have made it to the finals. Four of you will continue. The other four? Have a decision to make. You can either go forward, not in the running to win, or you can restart. If you decide to go forward, you will be deducted ten years of your life, making it harder to win.\" The voice said. \n\n\"What the actual fuck?\" Kendra muttered. \n\n\"If you have not received a handbook, it means you are not in the running, if the leaderboard didn't already make that clear. You will be escorted to a separate room, where you can make your decision. The four of you who have advanced, wait patiently.\" \n\nThe seemingly completely white room, sans the large screen, had no doors. Or so Kendra thought. Suddenly the doors opened, and out came four guards. They were covered head to toe in protective gear. Kendra couldn't make out any weapons, but she braced herself nonetheless. \n\n\"Come with us.\" The tallest one said. \n\nHe grabbed Kendra's arm, but she didn't dare struggle. \n\nThree other people followed suit without too much of a fight. They were taken to an adjoining room. The wall seemed to be transparent from this side. No sound from the other. \n\nThey sat at a table, and the guards stationed themselves around the room. Nobody talked. In fact, nobody really knew what to say. \n\nIn the other room, Kendra could see the 'winners' talking to the ceiling, and Kendra assumed they were talking to the voice. All of a sudden, their bodies started to convulse. The four winners writhed in pain, seeming to fold into themselves, until finally, they disappeared. \n\n\"What. The. Fuck.\" One of the guys whispered. \n\n\"The winners have decided to move forward.\" The voice said suddenly, jarring Kendra. \n\n\"One by one each of you will be taken to a separate room, and you will make your decision.\" The voice told them. \n\n\"You will go in alphabetical order.\" \n\nOne by one all of the people left, except they went to a room in the opposite direction as the first. Kendra was left alone. \n\n\"It's your turn.\" The guard said. \n\nKendra stood and walked over to the two guards standing in front of the door. They moved out of her way and the door slid open. \n\n\"Welcome Kendra. A screen will appear on the wall momentarily. First. Do you understand what you need to do?\" The voice asked. \n\n\"Win?\" \n\n\"You are correct. Love. These points count as how many times you commit an act of love. Or an act of love is committed for you. Kindness. How many times you commit an act of kindness. Regret. How many times you feel a pang of regret. Selflessness. Points for being selfless.\" \n\n\"Ok. So now I have to choose between ten years of life or going back... to the beginning?\" Kendra asked. \n\n\"The beginning of your checkpoint yes. Your last checkpoint was age fifteen. You advanced. You're not doing so well this time around, Kendra.\" \n\n\"Will I remember any of this?\" Kendra questioned, her brain starting to hurt. \n\n\"No. The point of this game is to create more kind people. People we want to make the world a better place. Please make your decision.\" \n\n\"How am I supposed to know to be a good person?\" Kendra looked to the ceiling. \n\n\"There are no cheat codes. The screen will appear in front of you. Make your decision.\" \n\nKendra looked in front of her. Her eyes flickered between both options. Fifteen seconds later, she slammed her hand down on the second option. \n\nShe began to scream in agony, her body worm holing into herself, until Kendra disappeared. \n\nIn another room, the woman took her hand off the intercom button. \n\n\"Do you think this will work?\" Her sergeant asked. \n\n\"Maybe. Maybe we've wasted trillions of dollars. We've come far. But possibly not far enough. She's the answer. She's playing this game on hard. If she keeps making the right decisions, going back, fixing it, no matter what we throw at her, then we might have actually done it.\" The woman said, staring at the screen which said 'Return To Check Point.' \n\nEdit because: proof reading before hitting send is apparently too hard. \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] A rebel character so rebellious that they rebel against the stereotypes of a rebel.	[ "\"God damn it Tim, I'm going to be late!\" Javier desperately raked thorough his bathroom drawers whilst lecturing Tim on the necessities of his personal schedules . Javier had been in a flurry all afternoon paying meticulous attention to the thrift store Timexes on both of his wrists. His Scott Ian tribute beard swiped his tattered T-shirt every time Javier cocked his head, scanning his bathroom sink for the perfect safety pin. Each turn was a paintbrush of expression across the letters-\"Banned in DC.\" \"You know, I'm so late, I'm going to be in the very back, and that’s not disruptive\" came admonishing from the bathroom. Tim merely shrugged his shoulders and spit another squirt of skoal and saliva into an old Gatorade bottle.\n\nTim gripped the glowing screen of singles his age whom might be ready to mingle. Tim swiped his thump in an anti climatic left across a portrait of a young woman, true romance was alive. His white sneakers provided the perfect support for his lumberjack frame and juxtaposed quite nicely with his acid washed, boot cut jeans. \"Ya know…Skullhole's first album was alright, but I don’t really know about the equalization on it. It's really on their sophomore work that you can enjoy it as true composition.\"\n\n\"True\" Javier feigned in agreement as he vexed between skinny jeans with suspenders or without.\n\nContinuing on, Tim began passionately \"They really came into the scene because of the great melodies hidden behind a lo fi set up, but I think we can all appreciate the subtle existential meanings of the lyrics. It really does set a sort of mise-en-scene for the listener to really make their own interpretation.\" Tim's rimless glasses began to turn purple as the sun gleaned the tops of the lenses. Javier glared at the pants and was convinced Tim memorized this speech for his own satisfaction. \n\nRed suspenders it was. \"Clunk-Clunk-Clunk\" his boots graced the cheap hardwood. Javier stormed back into the living area, his half shaven head, a caudal ode to the ying and yang of far away culture ducking underneath Tim's pull-up bar. \"Either way, Tim\" Javier paused \"They're playing in an hour and the roads are too wet to ride, can you drive me ?\" Tapping his feet, arching his back. He knew his request was a formality to Tim's nature. \n\n\"Sure, You know I'm going anyways, right?\"\n\nJavier's head whipped back, cackling, in astonishment. \" You hate going to shows, you're always saying how it just a stupid way to make money for bands that don’t deserve it!\" It was very matter-of-fact. \"You NOW want to go to see the Skull!?\"\n\n\"I like their lyrics\" slipped calmly from Tim's lizard thin lips.\n\nWide eyed, he scanned Tim's sweatshirt. Property of: Owatonna University Wrestling Large. \"O-ok\" Javier's stomach turned. The floor boards creaked under the uneasiness. \"Yeah, we saw him last night with that guy, you know, the one that looked like he worked in sales\" \" Oh wow, yeah you think it was his cousin or something?\" The shameful gossip would dance in Javier's mind til next moorings' hangover fueled cigarette. \n\n\"I'm going to look completely ridiculous with him\" His hand trembled as searched the perfect place for his safety pin. Deciding the top 3 centimeters of the left ear were as revolutionary as the rest. Javier seated the stainless steel secant.\n\n\"Ready?\" Tim was now gleaning with excitement as he grabbed his lanyard of keys. \n", "Joseph was a good boy. He had heard it all of his life. From his parents, from his grandparents, from every relative, from his teachers, from every adult he had ever met. His peers didn't say good boy but there were other ways to convey the same message. \"Joe, you're the man.\" \"Joe, you're my boy.\" \"Joe, you've got it going on.\"\n\nJoe wasn't a dog. He was a man, a real man.\n\nJoe looked over to his right. His wife was shimmering in her diamond necklace, lain like a tiara across her evenly tanned chest. \n\nJoe looked back down at his hands. He was in trouble. Not real trouble, moral trouble. He had heard about this before. He had been younger. Younger than his thirty five years. He had children now. But at some point he had been a child. He had absorbed every rumor only privy to the children of the selected class. Everyone believed it as much as they did Roman Gods, or the monster who would get you if you went where your parents told you not to. The rumors too ridiculous to be true.\n\n\"Thank you all for participating tonight...\" A voice bellowed from the stage.\n\nJoe had been a child once. A fortunate child.\n\n\"This is the most incredible year for the New Hampton Guilds Association yet..\"\n\nBorn into a wealthy Rhode Island family. A connected family. He never wanted for anything. His sole mission was success. Guided by a competent hand that knew the way. His father.\n\n\"It's been over 400 years. This is the 404th..\"\n\nJoe was now his father. A slightly better version by some accounts. But on the early portion of his father's timeline. This was the pivotal portion. The gateway to the rest of it.\n\n\"Our guest of honor tonight. Is a special young man..\"\n\nJoe was getting inaugurated. A special, secret club. It had a lot of members.\n\n\"The newest senator of this great state. The youngest senator in all of Congress..\"\n\nJoe was the newest member. And Joe would have to abide. \n\n\"It is my honor to introduce to you, Joseph A. Smith!\"\n\nThe applause may have come from a television show. A perfunctory patter of the hands, as if recorded by a live studio audience. Joe got up. It was his turn to smile. He rotated left, he rotated right, an arm held up in a wave each way. His wife stood up gazing at him. She locked onto him, not looking at the crowd. They both leaned in and kissed on the cheek. The spotlight was on them. Joe withdrew and shook the hands of those around him. There was the mayor of the town hosting this event. There was a representative in the House. There was the other long-time senator. His wife's smile had withdrew already back to her seat. Never breaking the gaze. Never breaking the spell.\n\nJoe went up to the podium. He wasn't scared of the podium. He'd say some hellos along the way, and shake some hands. He'd give a speech that he didn't have to prepare for. A speech he'd practice in the mirror and laugh because he knew practice was pointless. Everyone, everywhere, wanted to hear the same thing, in their own language, every time. \n\n\"Thank you Rhode Island. This has been an honor, and quite the trip..\" Joe was now the podium speaker. He had nothing new to say. This state was great. This country was great. And the so and so's in Congress were going to get an earful.\n\nAfter the speech Joe would be held up, shaking many hands, meeting many people he'd forget instantly. The senators, the biggest honchos of industry who attended, were the ones that made him nervous.\n\nThey were a club. And not the 400 year New Hamptons Guild Association. It was an unspoken of club. It had no name. It had no recognition by anyone. It didn't exist. It's only claim to reality was by what it did. And it did for all of recorded history, and only they knew. \n\nJoe looked over at his wife. The brunette ornament with doe-like brown eyes. And that smile. Did we mention that incredible smile? She looked back at him and no one else. He wondered how much she knew. She didn't, he thought.\n\nJoe was shaking hands among the power circle. The other senator looked over at him, \"congratulations mah boy. You're coming with us tonight.\" That was the line that told him there was no way out. \"Your father, if he was still around, would be the proudest man in the room. My father shook your father's hand just here over forty years ago.\" This slovenly, unkempt, and obese thirty something year old man, was correct in his nostalgia. Joe shook his hand for longer than any handshake should last. \"Greg, you're right. I'm looking forward to following every foot step my father took, including those to Congress.\" Greg laughed as the smiling crowd around them leaned in to soak in every ray of the newly born star.\n\nJoe looked back at his wife. She knew he was going away tonight. To all appearances he would return to her after a brief meeting with the boys at the after party. But really, it would be an all night affair. A bachelor party into the marriage of power.\n\nThey arrived at a nondescript building downtown. They arrived at staggered times. It was a famous building. The architecture went back a hundred years. The modern chic lobby transformed into a gothic, dimly lighted corridor. An innocuous room opened the door to a large chamber that was filled with the laughter and chatter of the rich and powerful.\n\nJoe stepped in with an entourage. Again they shook hands and made introductions. But this time there was no podium, there were no speeches to be made. A stage had been oddly built in the room. It was going to be a fashion show. \n\nJoe was seated down with Greg closely to his right. Greg watched him and the stage alternately with equal fixation.\n\nThe lights dimmed and the crowd's noise lowered to a smattering of chatter here and there. \n\nA voice boomed from a speaker in the corner of the room. \"First on the stage..\"\n\nA beat from a cheesy 90's satire of a fashion show played. A young person, a child, walked down the runway. It was a girl. She was definitely a girl. A teenager, but not by many years. Joe inspected her. She had on few clothes. A lot of make up. A sparkling scarf that she twirled around her as she walked. Joe's face didn't change. He gulped once. He was dying inside. He knew what this was.\n\nGreg laughed. He looked over at Joe once or twice. He leaned over to another friend and said something inaudible. Joe wanted to leave. Joe knew he couldn't leave.\n\n\"Next up, we have a walnut..\"\n\nA boy this time. Also scantily clad. Ethnic in origin. Brown skin. Unlike the girl he didn't smile. He looked as if he was in the middle of a war zone. Like his house was bombed out, he stood in the middle, his parents were blown to smithereens.\n\nGreg laughed. \"That's the one for you.\" He shouted to somebody. Joe was hardly paying any attention. He gulped again. \n\nThe next one was another girl. And another followed. And when they stepped off they melted into the crowd, onto the laps of all of these power men. \n\nJoe was feeling sick. Greg leaned over, \"which one did you like?\" The cigar smoke oozed out of his mouth with every word. His eyebrows raised into near 45 degree angles. \n\n\"Well, you'll have to give me a girl.\" Joe said as he laughed. Greg reciprocated the laughter and slapped Joe on the thigh. \n\n\"Excuse me a moment, I'd like to go to the washroom.\" Joe got up, and noticed Greg didn't object. \n\nIn the wash room, Joe could hear his father.\n\nAs he was dying of cancer, he gave Joe all he needed to know. \"Sometimes, son, you're going to do those things that the others don't.\"\n\nThere were many words of advice. Many speeches. Many fragments of a life lived over 80 years. But the one that stuck the most was with the kids. Why the kids? Joe thought. \n\n\"The trust that's needed in the highest circles of power is not easily attained. You could promise to keep quiet. But that doesn't work. You could pledge an oath, but those get broken. You could sign in blood, but that's not a guarantee. How do you ensure loyalty among a large group of people?\"\n\nJoe had been asked this question separately when he was ten, fifteen, and twenty years old. He answered each time, after a brief moment of deliberation. Even though his father hadn't demanded an answer.\n\nJoe answered:\n\n\"You make them promise. You make them swear on everything!\" Joe's father chuckled hearing the sheepish reply of a boy still living in the world of imagination.\n\n\"You make them sign away everything that's dear to them. Collateral!\" Joe's father grinned and nodded as he studied the reply of a boy just wakening from the spell.\n\n\"You make them kill someone. Or do something so unforgivable, that they would never cross you lest you expose them for the horror they committed.\" Joe's father said nothing. His expression didn't change. He looked at this man, it reminded him of himself.\n\nHe was expected to do these dastardly things to children so that his peers could feel comfortable he wouldn't step out line. They were all guilty. So they were all invested in keeping the secret. It wasn't for sexual gratification, though Joe knew, no doubt, some took pleasure in the act. It was for control. The control of the powerful. \n\nHe hadn't used the bathroom but he flushed the toilet. He wished he could flush his life with it. His eyes were twitching, he splashed cold water on his face. Is this really all worth it? I want to live, I've never thought of dying, but if this is life, then who does that make me to want to live it? \n\nHe walked back out into the room. In the few minutes he was gone it had transformed. He surveyed it. An orgy of hedonism that vivid story tellers would be commended for their superb telling of fiction.\n\nGreg grabbed hold of him. \"Are you all right?\"\n\nJoe's gaze came back to Greg. He smiled. He was so rebellious that he'd rebel against the stereotype of the rebel. He said to Greg, \"I want the walnut.\"", "David lived the life of a 1950's American Sitcom dad.\n\nHis car was always clean, as was his suit and haircut. Where others were protesting, he went to the local mainline protestant church. When others \"assumed genders\" and \"fought the patriarchy\", he lived a quiet life in in a white picket-fenced house on Mulberry Lane.\n\nHe was, in short, the most dangerous subversive the Department had ever faced. No one could possibly be that straight laced. Agents shadowed his every move, and were astounded by his humble lifestyle.\n\n\"He must be a drunk!\" They said. Yet he never drank to excess. \"Maybe he's a Communist! A Fascist! An Anarchist! A CommuFashoAnarchist!\" They exclaimed. Yet every action pointed to a mild, albeit fervent, dedication to the democratic and republican ideals of his birth country.\n\nThis was bad, the authorities could not condone any form of perfection. Especially a perfection born of the expected average. Things got so terrible that the Director himself went to talk to David in person.\n\nThis was an unprecedented effort, the Director never left his office. His preference was to pass judgement from behind his shadowed desk, piled so high with papers that the average agent would never meet him. Yet here he was; in all his small, fat, and bald ignonimity. \n\nHe stood before David, and demanded an imperfection. David asked him in for a cool drink of lemonade. Lemonade without whiskey. \n\nIn shock the Director passed out and had a heart attack. Ever the dutiful citizen, David called an ambulance. It arrived quickly and sped the Director to urgent care. No one noticed Dave's small grin.\n\nAN: Written on Mobile, sorry for any errors in spelling or grammar." ]	3
	[WP] A normal man lives in a city completely overrun with superheroes and supervillains.	[ "I hate superheroes. There, I said it. It was time for me to get to work, and I could already hear the explosions outside. Something that people that watched the news never understood was that those explosions were human lives. Often dozens at a time. \n\nWhen I was a teenager, I proudly bought my first car with my own money. Know what happened to it? Some guy in tights picked it up like it was nothing and used it to beat someone down. He was declared a hero. Meanwhile, I had to go through insurance claims. They had the decency to rule it as vandalism. Not that the vandal in question would ever be reprimanded. Nobody even knew who these people were, which was the scariest part. No accountability ever. I've seen them kill. Are they ever punished? No. Not that we could punish them. How do you stop a guy who can smash through brick walls like they're Styrofoam?!\n\nI sipped my coffee as I headed to the elevator. It was time for me to work. Yes, work. What normal people do. What do these people do anyway? The state swears up and down they're not paid with taxdollars. Which have skyrocketed by the way. No other way for the city to repair itself after these regular battles. What were they fighting over? Shit if I know. The news always hails them as heroes, and always paints the villains. Never do they say what either side was fighting for. \n\nOutside, the air was thick with debris dust. For several blocks, crumbled remains of buildings marked old battlegrounds. Some of them had construction crews. Sights like these had become routine. What the hell happened to us that this carnage is routine?! \n\nAnother explosion sounded in the air, and I saw them fighting. They were barely visible. Newscrews below filmed everything. What they'd never report is what happened to these energy blasts that missed. Lives. Dozens of lives. \n\nMy own car had been grazed by plasma blasts and dented to unrecognizability. It would be worth nothing now. I drove to work and went to my office. I buried myself in paperwork. It was the only way to get my mind off this insanity. ", "You know, it was surprisingly easy, all things considered. Black Dragon might have been able to turn into a literal dragon, but when he was human, he was exactly that: HUMAN. $200 and the right questions to the right people lead me to his lair. A few days later, I had said all the right things to the right people to get myself hired as a minion.\n\nThen it was just a matter of planting my trap. I was a repair guy, you see, so nobody complained when I lugged heavy equipment to fix the faulty (read: sabotaged) AC unit. And when I declared it fixed, nobody hesitated to turn it back on.\n\nThe poison gas made quick work of them all.\n\nI looted Black Dragon's lair that night. $15 million dollars, cash, was mine.\n\nThen I made an appointment with Dr. Insanity. He was the mad scientist sort, a guy with supernatural genius that let him build whatever he wanted. Of course, he needed money and materials to build, hence his crime spree. But people knew that he also took commissions; pay him enough money, and he'll build you whatever you want. The heroes hired him often because it kept him occupied. The villains hired him because of his talents. I hired him for something very particular.\n\n\"I need to kill a hero,\" I said. \"An invincible one. Slowly.\"\n\n\"A poison,\" he remarked.\n\n\"But I can't accidentally kill an innocent,\" I added. \"It must work only on capes.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" he replied. \"But I will only make one dose of that for you.\"\n\n\"Deal.\"\n\nDays later, I had my vial of hero-killer poison. It was tiny - just a few milligrams of the stuff. But it was enough. That said, nobody would be poisoned with this dose. No, I had other plans.\n\nI met up with a friend of mine. He, like me, had no powers and, also like me, hated the capes that had overrun our city. He, unlike me, had a PHd in biochemistry.\n\nWe met in a coffee shop. We had a nice conversation. We departed. I, now without the poison, went to go meet another friend of mine. He was the manager of a plant that made the fluoridation compounds for the entire country. You know, the stuff that the government puts in water to help control tooth decay? That stuff.\n\nMy other friend heard what I'd done. He heard what I had acquired. I made a proposal. He accepted.\n\nFive weeks later, my chemist friend called me and said he'd successfully replicated the compound. I gave him the number of my other friend.\n\nA week after that, the taste of the water coming out of the faucet didn't change one bit. I grinned.\n\nThat evening, Laser Man dropped out of the sky. Unbreakable broke. Behemoth faltered and dropped dead. Dr. Insanity vanished. Slicer drowned in his own blood-filled lungs. All across the country, heroes and villains were dropping like flies.\n\nAnd I finally had a day where I didn't have to fear being caught in the crossfire.", "\"And the day started off so nice too,\" I pondered as the buildings around me swayed as if rocked by gale force winds. Glass fragments from the uppermost floors littered what was once a pristine city center. The yellow cabs on the street were abandoned, and rightly so, as they resembled yellow plates with food for giants more so then vehicles due to the massive chucks of concrete and the occasional twisted metal I beam that sat upon their once majestic yellow frame. Uprooted trees, burning debris, and massive craters etched in asphalt completed the battleground these titans chose to fight upon. \n\n\"MY COFFEE!\" I bemoaned as a cement truck demolished my favorite cafe; the only bastion of caffeinated decadence in a 5 block radius. The metal tables and chairs that decorated its chic patio space were gnarled and strewn in every direction. Croissants and other pastries dotted the landscape, innocent flaky bystanders in a war they neither wanted nor deserved. Things like this were a common occurrence in this city. Villains, and the people who deemed themselves heroes, made this once peaceful metropolitan city into a glorified lego set. \n\nEvery time the workers and other normal citizens would rebuild from the carnage of the day before, after all the leaves were raked up, all the glass and rubble swept away, after some semblance of normalcy was regained, the heroes and villains would come in again and destroy everything they've all worked so hard to rebuild. For the fifth time in a month, they had denied me my one solace in this world of endless absurdity. I decided enough was e-fucking-nough.\n\nI ran into the pawn shop directly to my right, as they had yet to get this far down the block. The owner of the small store had abandoned it a few seconds prior, as through his display window with the security gate on it, he witnessed the top half of the statue that was just erected in the front of the trade skyscraper a block down the road was rolling like a tumble weed down the middle of the street, leaving pieces of itself behind like seeds in the wind. I look behind the glass counter and see a megaphone speaker sitting on the shelf, almost as if it were inviting me to steal it so my thoughts might be heard.\n\n\"HEY FUCKHEADS 1-6 FIGHTING IN THE MIDDLE OF MY DAMN CITY LIKE YOU OWN THE PLACE!\" I yelled into the megaphone, the sound of my voice crackling over the amplifier. \"CUT THE SHIT AND COME OVER HERE! RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!\" \n\nThe combating juggernauts, surprised at the apparent lack of self-preservation I was displaying, halted in their tracks. The rumbling of a collapsing building could be heard in the distance as silence rolled over the destruction on the scene. As I prepared to go on my tirade a burning tire bounced in front of me across the intersection I had chosen to speak at, as if signaling it was okay to being.\n\n\"WE, THE PEOPLE OF THIS CITY YOU IDIOTS KEEP DESTROYING, ARE SICK AND TIRED OF PUTTING UP WITH YOUR BULLSHIT! EVERY FEW DAYS YOU ALL WALTZ IN HERE AND TEAR THE PLACE UP LIKE YOU SPENT THE TIME BUILDING IT UP!\" I raved at my now enthralled audience. \"LOOK AT THIS PLACE! LOOK! AT! IT!!! THAT USED TO BE A TRADE BUILDING WHERE BUSINESS WAS CONDUCTED TO HELP THE ECONOMY MOVE FORWARD! THAT WAS A DEPARTMENT STORE WHERE PEOPLE, NOT JUST MEN AND WOMEN, BUT CHILDREN WOULD GO TO BUY CLOTHES AND SHOP FOR TOYS! HAVE ANY OF YOU EVER EVEN CONSIDERED WHAT YOU'RE DOING TO THOSE OF US WITHOUT POWERS? WHAT YOUR DESTRUCTION MEANS FOR THE FAMILIES AND BUSINESSES YOU DESTROY? LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID TO MY FAVORITE COFFEE SHOP!!!!! GOT DONUTS AND SHIT ALL OVER THE STREET! BROKEN GLASS AND DEBRIS EVERYWHERE! SOME OF YOU ALL MIGHT BE INVULNERABLE BUT THE REST OF US AREN'T! WE, THE CITIZENS, DEMAND THAT YOU TAKE YOUR FIGHTING ELSEWHERE OR WE WILL HAVE TO COME UP WITH OTHER WAYS TO DEAL WITH YOU! TRUST ME WHEN I SAY, YOU DON'T WANT A LARGE GROUP OF PISSED OFF NORMIES AND THEIR CHILDREN PLOTTING WAYS TO DESTROY YOU! NOW PICK THIS PLACE UP AND TAKE YOUR ASSES SOMEWHERE ELSE BECAUSE WE SURE AS HELL DON'T WANT TO DEAL WITH YOU!\" \n\nAs the dust settled upon the last bits of green grass visible on the sidewalks, the heroes and villains looked at one another. They then looked at the setting around them, a picturesque post-apocalyptic landscape greeted them in return. Amidst the rubble and ruin stood a lone man, just a normal human being covered in dust and blood, cuts and bruises only obtained as a consequence of their unending struggle between perceived rights and wrongs. It was upon this realization that both sides came together and used their powers to help rebuild the city they had destroyed. \n\nOnce the repairs were completed, I waltzed down the once more pristine sidewalk, yellow cabs lining the streets alongside, with newly planted grass and saplings littered in between the walkway and road, towards my favorite coffee shop with the metal chairs and tables on the patio outside, the scent of fresh croissants wafting in the breeze. ", "Batman handed the steaming coffee to Danny, and not-so casually gestured towards the 'DONATE TO LOCAL ORPHANAGES' jar, obviously expecting him to spare the change. \n\n\"Really man? Cmon I have donated every day this month!\" Danny said annoyed.\n\nThe coffee shop worker's gruff voice began, \"Dude?!? These poor children need your help! You can be a hero to them!\"\n\nDanny sarcastically chuckled \"Haha, nah, they are going to have to make do with 'just' their superpowers.\" \n\nBefore the dark figure behind the counter could continue their argument, Danny walked out of the coffee shop and into the empty streets.\n\nNot bothering to even check for cars, he started across the road.\n\nAbout halfway across he took a sip of his coffee. Out of nowhere a red and yellow blur of light sweeps in and carries Danny to the far side of the street. \n\nStill being held in The Flash's arms Danny subtlety nods for him to set him down, \"ohhh yeah, sorry about that\" The man in red says awkwardly.\n\n\"Just eh... wanted to save you from that car...\" hanging his head in embarrassment.\n\nDanny looked confused, \"wait, what car?!?\"\n\nTurning he saw Robin sitting in a blue mini-van nodding his head and giving The Flash an enthusiastic thumbs up. \n\n\"REALLY?!? You made me spill my coffee for that!? Man, you guys really are desperate\"\n\nDanny turned and began off in a different direction, he had decided to just walk the extra 3 blocks to Superman's coffee shop for a new cup. \n\nTHE END\n\nI really hope you enjoyed! \n\nI'm not talented at writing so I just do this for fun, tell me if it was any good. \n\n\n\n\n\n", "Hello my name is Michael Andrews \nAnd I'm the most normal man alive.\nYou see, for some reason I don't have any powers,\nWell you may ask, how do I survive?\nWell if a hero doesn't save me I just try and make the villain think I have powers, at least long enough so a hero can rescue me.\n\nI'm a part of the \"norm\" protection program.\nAll the other norms died off a long time ago. I'm the only one left.\nThis is my story.\n\nThe day that changed my life started as any other day.\nI woke up and went to work. My job is probably the best paying job out there, I make spandex and capes as well as repair suits.\nI know every hero's Identity and if a villains found that out then, I would be in big trouble you see, the villains don't know that I'm the only normal man in town. And thus haven't figured out that no matter who they capture they can catch a hero.\n\nBut one day I was to deliver a suit to a superhero called freeze-O\nI just assumed it was a new guy, as superheros share where they get there capes and suits with other hero's, I get a lot of new customers.\nI went to the rendezvous, the top of DexterCorp to be exact. And put it down on the ground in a duffle bag then started to walk away.\n\nThat's when it happened, suddenly one of the city's worst villains appeared in front of me. His powers were heat vision, flight and invisibility. I quickly reach for my safety button, the one that calls the hero's and tells them I'm in trouble.\n\"Nice try\" he says right after blowing up my help button with his heat vision.\n\"What do you want with me? I'm a norm.\" I ask trying my best to sound innocent.\n\"I know you know Hspd's identity\" he says showing me photos of me talking to Hspd with his mask torn to shreds.\nHe grabs me and flies off.\n\"This will only hurt a LOT\" He says.\nHe calls in his best telepath to extract his identity from my brain.\n\"He fights less if he is dying you know. It's easier for me to find his identity that way.\" She says with a smirk.\n\"As you wish\" He says.\nThe world appears to be in slow motion I see his eyes turn to fire and then the flames start to leap out of his eyes they get so close that my hair is catching fire.\nI see my life flash Infront of my eyes and then, I think about how I may never get to see how the northern lights look. \nI open my eyes certain to see that the flames are near centimeters away from my brain, but instead, \nI teleported.\n\nI'm looking at the northern lights. I think, I must be dead as nobody has ever been documented with teleportation. But I'm not dead.\n\nI'm Michael Andrews and I can teleport.\nThis was my story.\n\nThanks for reading all feedback is welcome as I'm new to this.\n\n\n\n\n", "I was putting the foam on when the front of my shop imploded. I flinched, dropped the cup, and scalded myself from the steam from the machine. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my hand while I turned to the front to see what the fuck was going on.\n\nStanding in the remnants of my front door was a silver suit of mechanical armor, nothing so much as resembling some Gundam nerd's wet dream. \"REEK! I KNOW YOU ARE HERE!\" came a robotic voice from the suit. As I was running cold water onto the towel, I glanced across the shop to the booth where Reek was sharing a latte with Amberjack. (Interesting and something to make note of for later.) Reek was busy making himself small in his seat. (For a supervillain whose major power was pheromones, a place with a fully-functional A/C system was a blessing for peace.) \n\nAs this shiny silver jackass stood in the doorway bellowing for Reek, Mountain stood up (and up, and up) from his seat and turned to face it. \"Can we help you, sir?\" If nothing else, Mountain was polite, at least when he wasn't punching villains halfway across the state. \n\nAt the same time, Amberjack (ohhh, Amberjack. I wouldn't take you home to momma, but I'd take you to do other sinful things. But I digress....) had slipped out of the booth, and had both of her electro-batons out at her side, lightning crackling up and down her arms. \"Maybe I could also be of service?\" she said. \n\n\"I AM JUST LOOKING FOR REEK! WHERE IS HE?\" and the idiot stepped further into the shop, almost absent-mindedly toppling the nearest table to the front. Oh boy, this isn't going to turn out too well. \n\nMountain took two steps to clear the distance between his table and this shiny moron and said, \"Perhaps you didn't hear me the first time, can we help you sir?\" Faster than I could even see, his palm had shot out and slammed into the metal monstrosity, driving it back towards the door. I was impressed, not too many people could take a single shot from Mountain without being a red smear on the ground and this guy was only driven back a few feet. \n\n\"I AM PROFESSOR ROBOTO AND I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH REEK YOU FOOLS!\" Oh boy, that's not good. But then Cy-cho was standing next to him from seemingly out of nowhere and yelled \"'ey, this guy's just 'ere fer a cup, aint'cha boss?\" Cy-cho slapped his hand into the side of this moron and the whole thing unzipped down the front and barfed out this nerdy looking 20-something dude onto the floor. \n\nAmberjack was instantly on top of the guy, her batons crossed against his neck. I had the wherewithal to holler \"Hey, there's no need for that yea?\" At almost the same time, Mountain had his hand on Amberjack's shoulder, saying \"There's no need for any more violence my friend.\" Amberjack reluctantly sheathed her electro-batons and took a step back.\n\nI came around the counter and looked at the guy, placing myself between him and Mountain. The kid was nearly pissing himself after having been forcibly removed from his armor. Pimply-faced, glasses, skinny, he was the very stereotype of nerdy and I felt for him at that moment. He had stepped into something he wasn't prepared for and I needed to clear the air. \"What'll you have then?\" I asked. He looked up at me with wide eyes, stammered, \"Uh, I... Uh...\" and really looked around the place for the first time. All eyes were on him. Flickers of red lightning, whines of servos, \"snickt\" sounds of blades being cautiously un-sheathed, weird blue-ish hints of Cherenkov radiation, the whole shop was tense, waiting on his next words. \n\n\"I... uh... do you have hot chocolate?\" he squeaked. \n\nI smiled warmly, \"One hot chocolate coming up. You want whipped cream with that?\"\n\n", "The real problem was the speedsters. That's why I was on my back on the ground this particular morning. All I wanted to do was get to work when a blue blur hit me and next thing I know... well, you know because I just told you.\n\nI picked myself up, checked all the moving parts, and walked down the sidewalk... ok, no, I walked into the street because the sidewalk had just heaved up into a pile of rubble and molten rock as the heat-blast hit it. At least the streets were clear, what with so many citizens flying through the air all the time. (Some of them intentionally, some of them through quite a bit of effort on someone else's part...)\n\nYou sort of get used to it, but at the same time never really do. Every day it's laser-blasts and ultrasonic screams, while mechanical pieces bounce off the buildings and shockwaves make everything shake around you. The reflexes came quickly, but you just never know what you have to react to day after day. Eventually it becomes a mundane and irritating task of anticipating who is going to explode the block in front of you as the colossal battles happen overhead.\n\nWith much effort, not really worth going into, I finally reached my shop. As I was sliding my keycard across the reader, a sonic boom caused the glass door to shatter. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, reminding myself \"At least I have insurance.\" I stepped across the shattered portal, flicked a light switch and made my way to the machines behind the counter.\n\nThe \"Cuppa Joe's\" sign lit up in the window. I started scooping the grounds into the machines. Started to smell the aromas as the hot water started seeping through. I lined up the (intact) ceramic cups behind the counter, waiting for my first customers. Even supers love their Columbian, and this little corner shop had become a sort of sanctuary of sorts. Nobody fucks with someone when they are having their coffee, and nobody fucks with me, because they know nobody else will make it." ]	7
	[WP] Envision medieval Western Europe, with poor serfs, landlords and knights, but with one twist: The nobles are nonhuman cannibals, who dine on their peasant subjects. And at night, they come to get their food with their entourage of knights, one person a day...	[ "\"Wait, how many nobles are there?\"\n\n\"Not many.\"\n\n\"So how many people are taken every day?\"\n\n\"From here? Two.\"\n\n\"And they let you choose who gets taken?\"\n\n\"Ye. The family of those taken also receive a small stipend and additional food.\"\n\n\"But you all eat so well already.\"\n\n\"Ye.\"\n\n\"So wait... in turn these nobles protect you?\"\n\n\"Ye. Also provide us with education and healthcare. Something about 'enhancing the flavor.\"\n\n\"But they're monsters.\"\n\n\"Have you looked in a river lately? Look the same as your or me as far as I can tell.\"\n\n\"Well... yes... but...\"\n\n\"Look. Before these cunts we had other cunts who probably killed off just as many people with their refusal to share their wealth. They made us fight for them in their wars and took all the spoils after. Now, we've got these new cunts who fight all the wars -- by choice, they get to eat more that way -- and don't have much of a care for wealth 'cause everything they need is wrapped up nice and rightly in people like you and me. Sure it's grim, but hell, it could be worse.\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"God, you are so fucking spoiled. 'Oh my Lord is going to eat me.' First world problems, ye?\"" ]	1
	[WP] You take a drug at a party, thinking it would be a fun trip. Instead, you slowly sink into complete insanity.	[ "It has only been five minutes and I'm already freaking out. I should have asked what it was before I plopped it into my mouth, but I wanted to be accepted by my peers, so I said nothing. I just pray that others can see them too, that it's not just me.\n\nWhile the rest of the party goers were talking to each other or dancing to the music; I was just standing there, staring at these beings that were staring back at me. There were three of them, two men and one I couldn't make out what it was. They weren't paying attention to anyone else but me, as if I was the reason they were there. I wish I could call them human, but they looked more like they were some space alien's interpretation of what a human looks like. They had long, sharp noses; long arms and legs that I knew no actual human could possibly have; greasy, combed-back hair that looked like they never washed it; their eyes were bloodshot and always wide opened; and their smiles, Jesus Christ, their smiles were stretched from ear to ear. It looked like it hurt to smile like that. Their smiles exposed their dirty, yellow teeth. The fact that these things were staring only at me, made it even more terrifying.\n\nI tried to move, but I couldn't as I was hypnotized by their eyes. I felt like I had no control over my body. It seemed like the one in the middle was the boss or something. I suddenly heard the middle one say something to the other two, but it was so high pitched I couldn't hear what they talking about. The middle one pointed at me and the others soon began to walk towards me. Their long, lanky legs soon began to take big steps towards me. They snickered as they moved closer and closer towards me. The middle one followed behind, gliding on the floor as she walked. All of them continued to smile at me as they walked.\n\nI could feel my heart pounding as hard as it ever did. Sweat began to flow down my face. All the while my body was querying in fear as these beings were getting closer to me. I could tell they knew that I was afraid of them. This only intensified their smiles. I continued to pray that someone else could see them and stop them. Sadly, no one answered my prayer, as the two males leaned their bodies next to me on opposite sides, preventing me from escaping. The middle one was standing before me. It just stared at me, smiling that smile. It stared at me like I was expecting to say something to it. After some unknown amount of time, the middle one spoke to me.\n\n\"Great party, isn't?\" The middle one spoke in a high-pitched, chipmunk-like voice.\n\nI tried to respond back, but nothing would come out of my mouth. Sensing that my mouth was dry, I tried to raise my cup, that I was holding in my right hand, to my mouth. Upon looking into it, I noticed that my cup was now filled with some black substance. I stared at it for a few moments before I noticed something bubbling in it, which I immediately dropped my cup to the floor. The spill created a glass-breaking sound and the substance was crawling out of the cup. I could just stare at the substance crawling as they continued to look at me.\n\n\"Oops!\" Said the two males in unison.\n\nI looked back at the middle one. Our eyes locked and the two males bend down to stare at me as well. Now, all three were staring at me, waiting for me to say something. After an uncomfortable amount of time, I was able to utter something out of my mouth.\n\n\"I...I...guess it's okay.\"\n\nThey all snickered at my response as they moved closer to me. I moved back as far as I could before I hit the wall. All three stopped moving within an inch of my face. I could now detect a foul odor coming from them. It was so intense I couldn't breath near them without having to breath in their odor. Suddenly, in complete unison, they all asked:\n\n\"We know how to make this party even better, care to join us?\"\n\nAt that moment, as if all my emotions were bottling inside me, I began to shriek to the top of my lungs. This didn't bothered them at all, this gave them excitement. I regained control of my body and started to dash away from them. I noticed that everyone at the party had the same look as them. All were looking at me and smiling at me. I continued to shriek as I dash through the entire room, knocking down things until I saw a door. Without thinking, I charged towards it and rammed through the door. Not caring for the broken pieces of the door that were now piercing my skin; I continued to dash down a hallway, looking for an exit.\n\nAfter a few moments, all the walls began to look the same and were closing onto me. I collapsed to the floor crying and pleading for someone to help me. I looked up to see them, those three beings, standing over me. They looked down at me and all uttered:\n\n\"That's more like it!\"\n\nFinally, after using what energy I had in me, I gave up and waited for whatever they planned to do to me. They all were slowly creeping up to me. All had their hands out, waiting to grab me. Realizing that I could do nothing else but to accept my fate, I just let them come closer. My eyes slowly began to close and I blacked out. \n\nWhen I opened my eyes again, I noticed that I was in a hospital bed with bandages all over me. I didn't know what happened, but I know I was saved somehow. I noticed that my parents where sitting next to me and, after a few moments of them expressing their relief, they told me what happened. Apparently, I experienced a bad trip of a drug that my body was allergic towards. After I screamed and went through the door of my friend's apartment, the broken pieces of the door cut my body so badly it left a bloody mess in the hallway. The doctors told them that I was lucky, as I could have bleed to death if someone hadn't call an ambulance. Even though I felt terrible for what I did, at least I was safe from them. I haven't seen them again except for that night, and I intend to keep it that way." ]	1
	[WP] One day you realized your eyes can zoom 100x, take a picture, record a video, and upload them online.	[ "Author's Note: It is currently 2:05am and I am well aware of the errors. I am just too tired to fix them at this time. Enjoy.\n\n_________________________________________________________\nI use to have it all. The fortune, the fame the women. I spoiled myself rotten with a lavished lifestyle in luxury, buying the most expensive of cars and clothing from the top of the line designers. Until one day it vanished quicker than the day I discovered my key to success. Sit a moment and let me tell you the tale of a fallen star.\n\nI started out as an average joe like yourself. A job as a grocer, didn't pay well but payed enough to get by. Had a beat up Toyota Corolla, hard to start but got me where I wanted. I was living the life of the simple American. Except I was lonely. Oh so very lonely. On my days off I would do nothing but loaf around watching Netflix and eating bowls of Ramen and cold pizza until I passed out. My room was kept surprisingly clean with the exception of a pile of clothes crumpled in the corner of the room. I could be passed off as a normal individual if it weren't for a really unhealthy addiction of mine. As a guy so lonely my addiction was to porn. Hard to guess right? I loved porn. I could spend an entire day looking up all kind of porn and I did. Nothing to be proud of I'm sure but I envied these people. They just have to have sex in front of a camera and they'd earn thousands of dollars in ad revenue for lousy shots of a dude busting a load on some chicks face. Not to mention the acting in half of these films were subpar at best. I told myself that if I could miraculously get into the business of porn production I'd make the best god damn porn film I could think of. But I had no funds to afford some top of the line camera. Not to mention where am I going to post my ad to find actors? Craigslist? Yeah like that'll attract the best quality porn stars around. So I sat and sulked, rubbing until the snakes scales were shedding hoping one day for a breakthrough.\n\nThen it happened.\n\nOn a rather cloudy afternoon I was unloading my groceries when I happened to look out my kitchen window. Across the way hosted a large building loaded with apartments similar to my own. It just so happened that a rather attractive Latino was getting changed in her bedroom with the curtains wide open. I stared longingly. I got hard but didn't brake focus for a moment. Suddenly, it felt as If I was moving forward. I stumbled a little bit before catching myself on a nearby chair and continued to stare out the window. I was floating as a ghost outside her window as she unchanged before my eyes. If only I could record this thought to myself as my groceries cried to be put away. As if on cue, my sight went blank for a moment only to come back with a small red light blinking in the upper right corner of my periphery. Seconds were noted in the lower left corner respectively. I watched her until she walked away from the window. I thought to stop recording and blinked twice. My vision was back to normal. I sat bewildered by my new talent. But that only left me with more questions. Where did the footage save to? Could I re-watch the footage over again and again? Could I take pictures? I put away the rest of my groceries and went straight to my room to get rid of the excited member in my pants.\n\nI pulled up my usual porn sites and was about ready to jack it like many times before, when I noticed a notification. Someone had sent me a comment. I normally lurked on these sites just to favorite the videos I smacked it to the most so I never commented. Confused I clicked the comment. A high quality video of the Latino from across the way popped up onto the screen. The comment read \" would luv to have a vixen like her\". I was shocked. Somehow, while recording her, I must have had porn sites on my mind and it must have uploaded it to the first site I could think of. A smile crept across my face as I had finally found a gateway to my dream occupation.\n\nI started out as a sellout stalker. I recorder her, along with a few other women from the apartments. No story arch, no special angles. Just shots of beautiful and semi good looking women as I would post them on the soft core porn sites. Occasionally I would take snapshots, but viewers seemed to like motion more than a single image. I compiled gifs and posted them on as many social media outlets as I could remember. I kept at doing this until one day I caught a lucky break. A petite white cutie left her blinds open and invited a black male into her room. They fore played and fucked away as I stared on. At this point I had recorded a few couples having sex before, however I decided to keep on recording for some reason. Maybe it was luck or maybe I was just extra horny that day, but I recorded well after the black male left and she had gotten dressed. Just as she finished getting changed, a white male had walked in and gave her a peck on the cheek as he set his belongings on the bed. I cut the video there. I posted the video on World Star and a few other porn sites. My popularity only went up from there.\n\nSkip a few months after getting in contact with some of the biggest names in the porn industry and I'm at the top of my game. I live in a mansion. I own several luxury cars and I had just released my biggest film yet: Big Flop. I'm rich beyond my wildest dreams. One day I decided to rest beside my Olympic size pool. I had a meeting that day to discuss a sequel to Big Flop, possibly including some bigger stars in the industry. There is also talk of me doing some first person shots in other films which is always great. So I'm sleeping and a fly smacks into my nose. I open my eyes to smack the bastard and the last thing I can remember was the scorching heat of our favorite star in the solar system burning my retinas.\n\nThe doctors spent long hours trying to repair my vision. After spending days in the hospital I opened my eyes and was able to see clearly again. I was ecstatic. I thanked the doctors and fled to film a few first person shots for a rising porn director. I got hard, readied myself and blinked twice. I cried in shear horror as I had finally realized the extent of the damage. I could only film in crystal clear 144p. I was fired on the spot. I went bankrupt. Mansion foreclosed. Cars taken away. Back to my lonely life as a grocer.\n\nLesson: Always wear sunglasses.\n" ]	1
Like opening a jar, or getting somewhere they're too short to reach, etc.	[WP] An old god has gone ignored for centuries. Now, a child calls out them for help with a menial task.	[ "Listing, tilting, falling. The goddess of old faith and forgotten power often felt this way. Once many believed in her, lending her their strength and conviction, and in return the now lonely goddess would watch over them and be a source of love and guidance. And now, not one follower remained. The goddess wandered the planes, an invisible, forgotten thing. Her sighs were the sorrowful wind, her tears the weak rains of late spring. She listed, tilted, and fell.\n\nShe lay in a grassy field. Nearby lie a small cabin, one with a simple roof and three small windows. The celestial being stared at the sky, her eyes that once were bright blue, now were a dormant and dull gray. The goddess sensed a presence approaching that prompted her to sit up and turn those faded granite spheres towards the oncoming thing.\n\nIt was the small girl who lived with her mother and father here. Always having been frail, the girl was bound to a chair sat upon wheels. Still, this didn't stop her from going outside. She had her mother for that, usually. A protective creature, much like she had once been. Would the woman become like her, if she lost her family? Such questions ran rampant through her mind. \n\nThe small girl struggled up a small rise, and then was on the field itself, rolling slowly in the direction of the goddess. The goddess paid little attention, knowing the girl could not see her. She trundled right past towards a patch of flowers, and started reaching with her short arms towards them. However, if she reached too far, she would fall, and she knew it. But the poppies were so beautiful this time of year, and the girl wanted so badly to collect some for her mother and father. She reached. Listed, tilted, and fell.\n\nThe thud was loud, and it caused the goddess to turn in curiosity. Upon hitting the ground, the girl became very frustrated and began to cry. With no one around, the goddess briskly walked over to the child, but knew she could not help. She stared, and horror overtook her as she relived those moments of having to watch so many suffer because she could not help. The goddess began to weep. She too, was so frustrated at the universe for making her so helpless. Her weeps became sobs, and then-- a voice.\n\n\"Can you help me?\" asked the girl. The goddess was broken out of her moment of sorrow by the request. She looked around, seeing no one else about. She looked down to see the girl staring right at her. Utter confusion overtook the deity, and she glanced around. She pointed a pale, gleaming finger at herself. \"Do you mean... me?\" came the lustrous, song-like reply. The small girl nodded. She was wiping tears from her eyes.\n\nThe goddess wiped away her own tears, and an intense smile overtook her features. Her eyes brightened, sapphire orbs of pure delight, and she nodded greatly. \"Yes, yes,\" she said. She gently picked up the young girl, putting her back into her chair. She lifted a poppy to the girl's hands, and the two locked eyes for a moment. The goddess began to cry yet again, and hugged the little believer close to her chest.\n\n\"Thank you.\"", "As Awdall, God of Messages, stepped up into the pentagram thinking; Well this is it I have become useless and have remained so for over two thousand years. Might as well end it before some other God stumbles upon my abode and laughs at me. The poor finished God began to chant as tears drop from his overwhelmingly huge eyes.\n\n\nAwdall he heard echoing throughout his vast empty realm. Awdall the Doomed God stopped chanting and looked around wiping the tears from his eyes. He grunted, “About time I started hearing voices in my head.” Before he could continue chanting he heard it again, then a generic green troll ran up to the God; “My lord.” The troll handed the God a small scroll bound with purple string.\n\n\n>\tAwdall,\n>\tI’m not sure you’re there anymore.\n>\tBut if you are, I would like to ask you for a small favour.\n>\tYou might not even read this because you must be so busy.\n\n\nThe God laughed, he couldn’t stop.\n\n\n>\tWell my favour is; tell my crush that I like her.\n>\tI know she likes me, but I also know that we both don’t have the\n>\tguts to say anything.\n>\t\n>\t\n>\tIf you do, I thank you very much. ~ Jack\n\n\nThe next morning the Not So Doomed God went to Earth, he visited Jack to see if his message was genuine. Awdall searched the kids mind and it all seemed to check out. Interesting fetish the God noted. Then he went to Jack’s crush… It seemed like she couldn’t stop thinking of Jack. So he did his deed and left.\n\n\nStaring at the pentagram, “Not today, old friend.”\n\nNote:\nThis is my first WritingPrompt, please judge me." ]	2
	[WP] The Memory Prison	[ "It was a lonely day, a very lonely day. I had gone out begging again at the side of the storefronts, but no one wanted to help me out. It's sad, I think to myself, no one cares anymore, especially to an old man who doesn't remember who he is. I huddled on a small park bench, maybe I could head to one of the churches and get some free food again. I shivered as I slowly, but surely, went to sleep. \n\nTomas Benson, you have served your time in the memory prison and your parole has been served, you may leave\n\nI woke with a start. What was I doing on a park bench I was a CEO of The Pharm. That's when I remembered the murders. That's right. I stood up, looked at my rather shaby clothes and remembered the few years I spent as a vagabond. I laughed at myself, everyones got to try everything, even living without their memories. I walked down the street to a phone booth and see if my investments payed off.", "It's been a long time since I've woken up in a bed other than this one.\n\n\nIn fact, it's been a long time since anything different happened at all.\nAs usual, I get out of bed, lazily pull on some clothes, grab a slice of underdone toast, and leave my house. It's been a long time since I cared about hygiene. I can't remember the last time I saw a toothbrush. \n\n\nI've remembered everything about the bus journey now. The baby in a pram that threatens to cry. The speed bump that we go over slightly too fast. The scratch on one window that looks almost like a star. The tiny pattern in the plastic floor under the seat on the left at the very back that looks like a smiley face. I've seen every inch of this damned bus and I'm sick of it. But oh well, I'll deal with it, there's a lot worse I could face here.\n\n\nTalking of which, the bus pulls up at school, the driver putting his foot on the break just a bit too much. If I wasn't gripping onto that pole so tightly, like I always do, I would have slid out of my seat a little. No worry really, since I'm getting out of my seat anyway. But I prefer to do it on my own terms.\n\n\nI think it's done all on purpose, to annoy me. The crying baby, the speed bump, the unfinished scratches, the passive aggressive smiley faces. I have to repeat the same thing every day, over and over, and as if that isn't bad enough, they put in these extra little details just to annoy me. \nAs if my punishment isn't enough.\n\n\nIt's an amazing setup. A good way to punish someone. Make them relive events over and over until perhaps they're sorry. But I'm not.\n\n\nI get into school, I sit down in my chair. The same as always. This is when it starts, and I do something, and they pull me out of it and make me live through it all again. The way they have for years. And it's not my fault. It's the way things happened - I can't change them, they simply repeat. But I'm being punished for a crime, and they can't change until I've fulfilled my sentence. So this day will just keep repeating forever and ever and ever until my time is up and I'm free to go.\n\n\nHe starts tapping on the back of my chair again, with his pen, tap tap tap. Then on my back, the plastic hitting my spine, tap tap tap. \nAnd eventually, I get bored of it, as I do every day, he always taps, so I snap.\n\n\nI turn around, I push him backwards in his chair, and without meaning it, I snap his head open on the cold concrete ground. For the first time, I see something new as the life drains from his eyes.\n\nThe next day, it's not the same. I wake up in a different bed. A prison cell. But I'm free. I'm free from the same life, the monotony of day to day, the endless repeat. \nI don't have to go back to places where the past simply repeats itself. I'm no longer being punished just for living my life the way it's always been.\n\n\nI'm free.\nFree from the memory prison." ]	2
For consistency, you can also feel pain and such in the dream world, and you always go to sleep at the end of your dreams. Or not. This is just a suggestion, use your full creativity ;)	[WP] Every time you go to sleep you have lucid dreams set in the same universe/reality. After years, you can no longer discern which world is the real one.	[ "It was a decade ago when I started becoming addicted to falling asleep.\n\nI was broke at the time and I would do nearly anything for money. Hell, I even became a stripper at one point just to make ends meet. Life became tough for me during the time to say the least. \n \nI remember it like it happened yesterday. I went into the experimental testing facility, where you would make money off of trying different drugs. Mind you, I was near bankrupt, so I tried the drugs that would gain the most profit. \n\nZarcasil, it was called. The drug that would fix insonmia. While I was nervous to potentially destroy my body with drugs, I needed the 10,000 dollars to pay off my student loan debt ASAP. \n\nI went home that night and popped one in my mouth. 30 minutes later, I would enter into the most intense dream I'd had to that day.\n\nI suddenly could fly above New York city. I could breathe fire. I knew every martial art in the book. I was the most handsome and successful model in all of America. I spent the day flying from my apartment, all the way to Mount Everest, and I even took a trip to see the Opera House in Sydney, Australia. I even wore the jacket from Drive that I wanted for so long. All in all, I was a complete badass.\n\nAnd then I woke up. I sat there, pissed off that I had to go back to this reality. I was still broke, despite the money I was making off of Zarcasil. I went to my job at Little Caeser's, thinking about my dream all day. Thinking about the jacket I was wearing, the sights I saw, and the weightless feeling of flying. It was all pure bliss, and I wanted to go back.\n\nThat night I stood over my sink, in my dingy little bathroom, in my dingy little apartment. I wanted to be asleep this second. I popped three tablets in my mouth, just to make sure I went back to this same universe.\n\nYou guessed it, I did. I flew around like Superman, and I visited every place I could before I would wake up again. \n\nIt's been ten years, and I am addicted to sleeping. Every waking moment, all I want to do is sleep, where I can fly, where I can pet wild animals, and where I am truly free, and in my own perfect universe. \n\nZarcasil has changed me forever. ", "It's like a mirror. Either side is identical. Imagine stepping through and merging with your reflection. As you pass through each other, you enter the other world, until you're separate again, and you exist on the other side. It's not the same place that you started, but it's identical.\n\n\nThat's what it's like. I fall asleep, and then I 'wake up' in a dream, entirely the same as reality. And then, once again, I'd 'fall asleep', and wake up. Only then, when I spoke to someone will I know if the day I just experienced was real. It was like having a whole extra day, all to myself. Once I got over the initial confusion, I grew to love it. It was like living inside Inception but with fewer guns and no Hans Zimmer score.\n\n\nThe great thing about them was that they were lucid dreams. I could control what happens. I can fly, or own a mansion, or be a bit more creative and go to Hogwarts, or Mars. No restrictions. I led half a life as a god, the other just as a normal guy. \n\n\nOccasionally, when the lucid capabilities don't kick in, it can be really confusing since it's the exact same as the real world. So I got around it by unscrewing the lightbulb in my real life room. By whatever logic my sleeping brain uses, I could still turn on the light even when there was no bulb in the dream. I don't suppose the subconscious really cares about physics.\n\n\nBut I made a really bad mistake. I went camping. I was hoping that the friends I went with would let me know whether I'm dreaming or not, tell me whether the day I just experienced was real or fake. And just in case, I kept a little tally, starting on a real day, so I knew that if the latest mark is an odd number, I was awake. \n\n\nBut they decided to add a few marks to my tally. And refused to tell me if yesterday was a dream or not. Or maybe I was dreaming and it was my subconscious that changed my tally and refused to tell me. Either way, I wouldn't know until I got back home and tested my light switch. It was like existing in the plane of the mirror, the space just on the edge of the reflection. One part of it was real, and the other fake, but both being exactly the same, it was impossible to tell.\n\n\n\nSo when I woke up the next morning in my tent, and everyone else was gone, I was understandably worried. There was a fifty-fifty chance that they'd either hidden away as a prank, or I was dreaming.\nI wandered around the camp, looking for any sign of where they went, disturbed leaves perhaps. But I was no tracker. I had no idea. And who knows how long it'd be until they came-\nMy thought process was interrupted by what I thought was my name being called. Probably nothing. Just the wind. Now, where was-\nThere it was again, like a whisper. I turned around, looking through the trees, my eye caught by some frantic movement, a waving arm. Up on the trunks of trees, sitting balanced on branches, were the three I'd been camping with. The one who'd been calling my name and waving his arm now pointed, just above my left shoulder. I looked at him for a second, unsure of what he could be pointing at, worried at what I'd see behind me. \n\n\nI turned back to where I'd been looking before, and the back end of a gun slammed into my face and knocked me out.\n\n\nMore coming soon, so stay tuned!", "I was ten years old. That's when it started to happen.\nThat's when I could control my dreams.\n\nThey were dreams of the most fantastic things; the most interesting, the most capturing things. Every night turned into a new day of imagined adventures, the dreams and imagination of a child becoming a sort of new reality, at least a reality relative to me. \n\nAnd then I'd wake up.\n\nI hated wakefulness. It was, as I saw it, the cruel darkness hiding behind the bright sunrise. School was awful; my classmates hated me almost as much as I hated them. Sleeping would be more interesting than talking to you, I would say, them never knowing the validity of the statement.\n\nMy daily respite began only when my head acquainted itself with my pillow, then ended only when I did the same in the perfect reality of the dream. \n\nI was fifteen when the doctors diagnosed me with early-stage narcolepsy. I couldn't even tell when I had fallen asleep.\n\nThe dreams started to fuse into reality. The sad, difficult nature of real life began to infect my world of perfection, all of my imagined friends developing the same cruelties of those very real enemies of mine. Every adventure ended in failure, and my dreams felt lonely- really, truly lonely. It was as though the only enjoyment of my life had been torn out, because it had been. Even my fantasies were now as sad as the reality I ran away from.\n\nI was twenty when I killed myself. \n\n***\n\nEnjoy the story? Think it could use some work? Make sure to leave a comment! \n\n-/u/stupidfritz" ]	3
Like Mass Effect. Whenever they try to talk to someone or someone else tries to talk to them, the protagonist suddenly finds the only things they can say are the six options presented before them. Obviously this can end up being a bit limiting at times.	[WP] The protagonist has a debilitating condition - whenever they try to speak they find themselves presented with only 6 options from which to choose from	[ "The snowglider coasted to a stop in front of the burnt down school. He detached himself, laboring heavily, moving slowly, wincing, and hopped down, boots landing with a thud and sinking a bit into the snow. He began to approach the school when out of the corner of his eye, a glimmer from the sunlight pierced through his goggles. He dove and rolled behind a rusted oil drum and the shot ricocheted off the top of the drum. Two more shots rang out in quick succession, clanking off the top of the drum. He quickly whipped off the goggles and peeked around the drum. The sun was behind him. An obvious advantage. He detached a charge from his vest and flicked the turquoise latch. Another shot hit the drum just as he lobbed the charge over the top in a high arc. He heard scrambling on the ice and as the charge exploded, rose up from behind the dumpster and with impeccable precision, drew his weapon and fired two shots into the knees of the fleeing assailant. \n\nThe explosion from the charge left a gaping hole in the ground. He held the weapon firm, aimed directly at the head of his would-be assassin. She rolled over and moaned, her ponytail covered with ice and mud, before beginning to crawl. He slowly lowered his weapon but held his gaze. \n\nSix options presented themselves inside his head. He chose the most inaccurate. \n\n\"Impossible.\" He said aloud. The assailant stopped crawling, and with deep heavy breaths, rolled onto her back and sat up. \n\nThey stared at each other a brief moment. He removed his hat. Then the face mask. They dropped to the ground and laid in the filthy ice. She stared back, silent. He slowly moved forward, weapon at his side, until he was within arms reach. They locked eyes as the sun lit up the snow around her that wasn't covered with blood. \n\n\"You didn't know it was me...but...I knew...I knew you'd come back. You always would've come back....for us \"\n\nSix options presented themselves inside his head. He chose the least revealing, remaining silent. \n\nTears welled in her eyes as she lay in the snow. \"They were right....I...know now. We had to protect ourselves. I wanted to trust you, believe you. But now I see. We all see. I didn't want them to be....they.....they were right.\" She leaned back on her elbows, breathing heavily. \n\nWhat remained of the school stood smoldering behind her and his eyes left her, his former student, for a brief moment and landed on the shattered window frame of his old classroom. He clenched his jaw, his teeth crushing against each other and turned away. He stared intently at the ground, weapon loosely held in his left hand. \n\n\"You don't...you don't have to. You can run. You can...you could...if you wanted too.\". \n\nHe stared at the ground, then met her eyes again, unblinking, unflinching. \n\n\"You taught me so much...I hurt a lot....I...I can't... what's going to happen to me?\"\n\nSix options presented themselves inside his head. He chose the most conclusive. \n\n\"Death.\"\n\nHe then emptied his weapon and her body lay limp in the snow. \n\nHe stared at the body for several seconds after the last shell left his weapon. Years flashed in front of him as if they were happening with lightning speed. He slowly nodded his head, turned his nose up and snorted the cold air before turning away, walking back towards the snowglider. As he walked, he raised his hand to his ear in order to hear the transmission coming through clearly. \n\n\"Confirm. Confirm. Area clear. Targets liquidated. Confirm.\" \n\nJust then he noticed a pair of eyes glowing out from beneath the old shop. And then another. And another. He stopped and stared. The eyes stared back, and a small girl appeared from the darkness, staring intently at him. \n\n\"Confirm. CONFIRM. AREA CLEAR. CONFIRM.\"\n\n He stood silent as the small child stared back, eyes glowing. \n\nSix options presented themselves inside his head. He chose the least truthful. \n\n\"Confirmed.\"\n\nThe earpiece crackled in turn. \n\n \"Confirmed. Infiltration successful. Return to drop zone for extraction.\" \n\nThe gaze between the child and himself remained unbroken. Finally, she spoke. \n\n\"What do we do, Michael?\" The wind carried her voice over the tundra and it strangely seemed to echo around him. \n\nSix options presented themselves inside his head. He chose the most conflicting....to his programming. \n\n\"Run.\" \n\nThe children looked at each other, then back at him, then began sprinting towards the edge of village at break neck speed. \n\nA pair of binoculars in the distance watched Michael board the snowglider and ignite the engine. The binoculars dropped and a hand rose, clicking an earpiece. \n\n\"Target confirmed.\" \n" ]	1
	[WP] You've recently joined a cult surrounding a goat. The goat isn't the prophet, the Devil, or anything else extraordinary. It's just a simple goat, and you only joined to find out what the cult is preaching in the first place. You later discover the other members joined for the same exact reason.	[ "ALL HAIL THE SUPREME GOAT. \n\nIt was really happening. Seventeen years ago I might have stopped to wonder how and why but not today. Today was a time for celebration. \n\nThe TV clicked on. Our bodies suspended in disbelief as another car commercial lingered a little too long for our short-fused patience.\n\n“They’re starting!” Kellyanne stammered. \n\nThe live feed panned to show the Supreme Goat side-by-side with the Pope. I couldn’t fucking believe it. In front of them was a trough filled with organic fresh cut grass. I knew this because I had helped negotiate the terms for which the Pope would pay respect to the Supreme Goat.\n\nOur eyes glued closer to the screen. The Pope slowly leaned over and got on his hands and knees, as agreed. The camera zoomed closer. The level of detail was stunning; you could really see everything. They even fabricated the trough out of glass just like I envisioned it. I remembered to breathe. \n\nI could now hear the news reporter yammering over the feed.\n\n“We've got the Supreme Goat here in front of us. It's the best. Everyone agrees; they say it's the best. It's the most people to ever turn out to the first ever coming of the Supreme Goat. Everyone loves it. ”\n\nAccording to prophesy, the Supreme Goat was born to a virgin mother exactly when the turn of the millennium should have destroyed all of society. Although not officially part of canon, we followers knew that the Supreme Goat was born in a little town of New York. \n\nThe Pope’s head was now completely in the trough. \n\nWhile the media’s focus had been mostly on the Pope, we could now see that the Supreme Goat was partaking in the ritual as well. The Supreme Goat was eating a reverse seared wagyu goat steak flown in earlier this morning, as agreed. The Supreme Goat's hands were looking a little small but it was okay.\n\nThen the Pope began eating grass like an animal. Inhaling it without a proper moment to breathe. The camera panned to show alternate angles. Every angle showed the same thing. The Pope finished the entire serving of grass. \n\nI nearly fainted. \n\n“Milo, Get ahold of yourself!” Kellyanne scolded “You know the Supreme Goat Union Festival doesn’t start until 8pm.”\n\nI looked down and saw that extra blood was flowing to my lower regions. I didn’t care. The Supreme Goat bleated for that's what goats do.\n\n\"All hail the supreme goat.\" I said and breathed out a slow satisfied groan. My bulge was now gone.\n\nWe had been right all along. Trolling the entire world to think that a stupid goat was a real prophet was none short of a miracle. But tonight at the Unity Festival that lucky son of a bitch Bannon copulates with the Supreme Goat and becomes the human manifestation of the prophet, as agreed. \n\nA man in the back of the room chuckled in a feint Russian accent and sipped his drink.", "I was sure for the first month that this was some sort of prolonged Liberal Arts piece. The curtains would surely close, the actors would take their bows, and those pretentious enough to enjoy such a thing would practically chortle in fond remembrance. The second month was when I had my first doubts. Surely an artist would have packed up and gone home by now, right? I'm in the middle of the third month. Nothing has changed. The goat goes about his day to day goat activities, and we watch. I'm in way too deep to back out now.\n\nWe watch, and we wait. I've got an incredible amount of reading done. I am not able to browse the internet, there is no WiFi in the goat's domain, there is also no phone service. Only goats. The one, the great, the powerful, is just a pretty average run of the mill goat if I'm being honest. He does Goat things while I pretend to watch, but if I'm watching anything it's the others. Why the hell are they here? \n\nMonth four. The others don't talk to me that much anymore. At first they seemed to be a bit aloof, a bit self aware that the goat was just an ordinary goat, but now they have grown solemn. They might seriously be worshiping this goat. They might also be satirist. This might be some weird statement about the non seriousness of life, saying that we might as well watch goats all day. Surely that's it. Surely it can't be real. \n\nMonth five. Reason to live almost diminished. There is no hope now, only goats. One goat. I don't even know his name. The others have gone completely silent now. We sit and stare in group solitude. I haven't been this focused in as long as I can remember. There is no reason for this. The goat is all that's left. \n\nThe others have stopped moving. I can now walk freely among their catatonic bodies. I think they are dead. They desire to eat came second to the desire to watch the goat. I look at the goat. \"You look like a Gary\" I say to the goat. It comes out in a heavy Australian accent. We are in Ohio. The goat does not look up from his grazing, not noticing me the way a cow wouldn't notice a fly. \n\n\"Wow. You couldn't give a fuck, could you Gary?\"", "The first thing I saw when I entered the room was a horde of people. Lots and lots of people, doing all manner of odd things in a tight circle around something I couldn't quite make out. A man in front of me was dancing - breakdancing, I thought that was a 2007 thing. As I watched, he did a flip, and accidentally knocked over an old lady that had been attempting the hula. \n\n\"Goat bless,\" said one man, staring at the fallen woman.\n\n\"Goat bless,\" repeated every other person in audible range.\n\nHuh. How comfortably cult-y, I thought to myself. \n\nIt was quite strange to be here, if I were being honest with myself. I had infinite respect for my parents, and they had always told me, 'Son, don't get wrapped up in cults. They don't want losers like you.' \n\nAh, I loved my dad.\n\nA member of the cult, wearing a t-shirt and black pants, must have noticed I was standing around awkwardly and looking confused. They approached, and I nodded my head to them. How was I supposed to go about this again? \n\n\"Praise be to the great goat,\" I said, eyes to the floor.\n\nHe smiled, and cupped my hands in his. \"Son, there is no 'great', it is simply 'goat'. Please, join us.\"\n\nHis fatherly attitude did not quite match with the shirt's logo. I <3 GOAT! with a massive, yellow, face smiling out underneath.\n\n\"Are you a new member of the Cult of Goat?\" he queried, as he took my hand, leading me through the mass of people.\n\nI nodded.\n\n\"Hah, goat got your tongue?\" he chuckled.\n\n\"No, I nodded. Er, was that wrong?\" \n\nThe man grinned. \"Nah, I just love using that phrase. I'm Shawn, by the way. Pleased to meet you.\"\n\n\"Jerry. Nice to meet you as well.\" We continued to wade through the crowd.\n\n\"Goat bless.\"\n\n\"Goat bless.\"\n\nSuddenly, the people opened up into a small clearing. We still hadn't pierced the inside of the circle - the place everyone seemed to gravitate around - but had found a lady with a rather odd booth.\n\n\"This is Iris. Iris, this is Jerry. He's new hear.\"\n\n\"Nice to meet you, Iris,\" I said, walking towards the booth to shake her outstretched arm.\n\nIris began to open her mouth, but Shawn cut her off, \"Hah, goat got your tongue, Iris?\"\n\n\"Damn it, Shawn. Goat bless, Jerry.\"\n\n\"Goat bless,\" I responded.\n\n\"Because you're new here, we'll give you a free cloak. You must bring it back, though, it's only good for the first day.\"\n\nI nodded. Seemed fair. \n\nShe gave me a cloak, and I put it on. A massive goat face adorned the top left, while underneath were the words, \"GOAT FOR ALL AND TO ALL A GOAT NIGHT\". \n\n\"How do you like it?\"\n\n\"It's very goat,\" I said. \n\nShe smiled. \"Goat bless.\"\n\n\"Goat bless.\"\n\nIt was finally time for me to view the Goat himself. I pressed forward through the crowd, leaving both Shawn and Iris behind. It was like the pilgrimage of some religions - except a fair amount shorter.\n\nAnd then, there he was. The Goat, himself. Or herself? I wasn't very familiar with how all that worked with goats. Ah well.\n\nAn elderly man took my by the hand. \"My child, please, have you brought an offering for the Goat?\" \n\nI grinned. \"Yes, sir, it's right here.\" The cloak was pushed out of the way to reveal a bulging pants pocket.\n\n\"Perfect, then please deliver it to the Goat.\"\n\nThis was it. It was time to see what this was all about. I'd done so much to get here, to find out the truth. I'd joined a cult, true, but it was all for the pursuit of knowledge. A lesser evil for a great Goat. \n\nAnd yes - the Goat. It was there, in front of me.\n\nI moved forward, slowly, as if caught in time. I could feel the stares of the cultists on me, but they were friendly. In the background, a faint chant of, \"Goat, goat, goat, RAM\" was audible. \n\nMy left hand scrounged around in my pocket and brought out a pile of grass and dirt I had picked up from my lawn.\n\nThe Goat regarded my with its beautiful, perfect, eyes.\n\nI placed down the grass in front of it, and it moved forward - very quickly. A hoof caught me in the chin, and I fell backwards. Pain sparked across my body as it continued its advance, my offering left behind, forgotten. \n\n\"No, please!\" I said, pushing myself away, eyes wide. \n\n\"Goat bless,\" said a man in the crowd.\n\n\"Goat bless.\"", "Kyle slid the long scarlet robe over his head and looked in the compact mirror on his car's visor. He looked... he couldn't tell. The hood was in his eyes. \n\nHe yanked the back of the hood uttering curses, but kept the words low so the other members walking past his car to the woods would believe he was chanting in Latin or something. \n\nDid this cult even use Latin? Did he even know Latin? Would anyone notice if he just repeated that Latin phrase they printed on Quarters? Wait, what did it say on Quarters? Did he have a quarter? \n\nHe groaned, and exited his car. He briefly debated locking it, but decided against it in case he had to make a hasty retreat. \n\nHe hurried to catch up to the other members who were standing solemnly in front of the tree line, waiting patiently for their signal. He had sidled up to the nearest one when that signal came: \n\nThe long bleat of a goat. \n\nGreat, soon he would know what this all was about. \n\nEveryone moved towards the sound; uncertain, Kyle noted by there sluggish footsteps. This goat must be something to be feared. \n\nHis stomach started to knot up but he tried to ignore the feeling of dread. He had came this far, hadn't he? It had taken him hours to track down the source of the mysterious e-mail that had accidentally been sent to him regarding this supposed 'All-Powerful Goat'. At the very least he could figure out what made the goat 'All-Powerful' before he skedaddled back to his car.\n\nHe could see a fire burning up ahead. The cult members all flocked to it, surrounding it before sitting down in a circle around it. Kyle kept his head down, as did the other members. He didn't see a sign of who started the fire, let alone where the goat was-\n\nBleeeaaatttt\n\nHis head involuntarily whipped around. There, coming out of the darkness, was... the goat. His breath caught. He had expected it to be chained up to something, not wandering freely towards them. \n\nThe rest of the group began to mumble something over and over again so Kyle quickly followed suit, trying to keep an eye on the goat. It... looked like a goat. Grey, with stubby horns. A metaphor for the grey moral areas in life and how they are enforced? \n\nHe continued mumbling with the group as the goat drew near to him. \n\n\"Watermelon, watermelon, waaaaatttermelon.\" He muttered as the goat prodded closer. He let out a sigh of relief as it moved away. \n\nThe hooded figure next to him, whispered something to him, trying to be incognito in front of the rest of the group. \"Hey, uh, that goats, uh, pretty terrifying. Huh?\"\n\nKyle whispered back, bobbing his head slightly. \"Yeah, yeah. Thought I was a goner- I mean, even though I knew I wasn't. Maybe it was just sniffing out the new member?\"\n\n\"You're new? So am I.\"\n\nThe cloaked person next to him overheard, and added \"Really? Me too.\" \n\nThe next thing Kyle knew, everyone was nodding their heads. \n\n\"Everyone is new?\" Kyle asked, louder than he anticipated. \n\nHe was quickly hushed when the goat reared it's head up to stare at him with those unnerving slanted eyes. \n\n\"Oh no,\" the guy next to him began, shaking violently, \"what if we're all part of some sacrifice and we're all about to get jumped? I don't want to die, bro!\" \n\nKyle quickly whipped his body around to check but to his great relief no one else seemed to be around. \n\n\"Nobody has any orders to kill the rest of us, right?\" A scared woman's voice squeaked out. \n\n\"What? No, no. I just got an e-mail!\" Someone quickly answered, before covering their mouth and shooting a scared glance at the goat, still wandering around coming towards Kyle. \n\nKyle nearly shrieked with the goat began to nibble on the side of his robe. \n\n\"Is it going to kill him?!\" Someone on the opposite side shrieked. Everyone else nearly screamed and scrambled away from him.\n\nKyle squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the goat to rip out his jugular, when suddenly something in his head clicked. \n\n\"Wait,\" he said \"you all got an e-mail too?\" \n\n\"Yeah, it invited me to come be and see the 'All-Powerful Goat'. I just had to see for myself! I should have stayed home and watched T.V!\" Someone wailed. \n\n\"That's why I came too!\" Someone else chimed in. Everyone confirmed it. \n\n\"So no one knows what makes the goat 'All-Powerful'?\" Kyle asked, turning to face the goat that was still chewing on his clothes. \n\nThe goat bleated at him. Then resumed chewing. \n\nThe group was silent for a few minutes as the realization set in. Then the group came to a mutual agreement to never speak of this incident ever again. \n\nIt wasn't until Kyle shut his car door and turned on his headlights did he see a small rickety sign next to some shot up 'No Hunting' signs that read:\n\nCOME SEE LILY, THE ALL-POWERFUL GOAT! SHE MAKES MILK THAT CAN MAKE A LOT OF OTHER THINGS! COME SEE LILY AT THE FARM ONE MILE DOWN!\n\nKyle shoved this embarrassing memory out of his mind, ignoring it so much that he never realized one important fact:\n\nWho started the bonfire?\n\n_______________\n\n(Writers note: Let me know what you think and what I need to work on. This was a fun prompt!)" ]	4
	[WP]A completely sociopathic character who follows a very strict code of ethics	[ "Posh pokers and midnight strokers. Dregs of the ugly, uglier, and downright disgusting. Teeth gnawing at the wilted flesh of clementines that have dotty noses and slanty eyes, and the bellyful howls that rise up like Lucifer unleashed. It’s all right here, my lovelies, if you only care to look.\n\nMother would read me Bible stories late at night, before tucking me in like a good little Eichmann and before Catholic school swallowed me up come sunrise. There were lots of funny folk peppered in those pages. My favorite was Absalom, the young roustabout who tried to usurp his father’s kingdom. Such a handsome, disarming charmer he was that upon his death, his father was said to have wept and cried, ‘Would God that I had died for thee, O Absalom!’ He was good, and he was bad, but he could do no wrong.\n\nAt school, they were always on about virtue and souls and redemption. If the parish mongers had taken a step outside of their parochial bubble, they may have realized that the City of Angels of which their enclave was so carefully and deliberately cordoned from actually contained all of these ethereal jabberwockies, and then some. Perhaps not their pigeonholed definition of virtue, but paradigms come in all shapes and sizes – isn’t that what every hero tells us, holy or otherwise? And lovelies, there are souls enough here for our lifetimes worth of redemption.\n\nThere is no madness to the things I do. I would venture so far to say I am only an agent as are the ocean tides that crash endlessly against anchored boulders and slowly, ever so imperceptibly, erode them into dust. We both exist for the purpose we serve, and expecting otherwise is not unlike hoping a cat will fetch your paper or a lion will lay with the lambs. I have never been much for the notions of karmic force or universal balance, though I am convinced that the dizzying forces of determinism will always push back where there is room to push.\n\nSo many places that I am sent, and so few that appreciate the gesture. The tepid whores masquerading as trashy rent-a-holes on Sunset and Alvarado don’t blink except for when the precarious strings are cut, and then they go flopping and flailing like fish in a pot of sand. Reality is kind where I am not, and spares the worst of them the worst of it, and many are halfway to their new life before the old one even realizes it’s gone. Gone, but not appreciated.\n\nI wanted to be a doctor as a kid. No, my gentle lambs, not the cabalistic machinations of Mengele or Ishii, but the do-no-harm sensibilities of Mr. Doogie Howser or the sultry Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman. To a child’s eyes – and despite my current woken status I was very much a child – the world can seem a very scary place. My mother and I had the same television the other folks had, complete with horrors and atrocities enough to fill the captive void in every little boy’s heart. To be a savior of the downtrodden, a voice for the voiceless – isn’t this what the Bible preaches?\n\nSkid Row was named for a skidding log transport road in Seattle, Washington. This is a fitting title for the marauding denizens who shake and skitter their way through the minutes and hours but not days, since those require a sense of deliberation, rhythm and purpose, like wet faggots on an intractable stream heading for bed. The sanity of these aberrations, long since assumed gone by the mandates of observation and common sense, comes soaring back like a buried childhood aroma when the ride comes to pick them up. Their eyes sparkle, as they must have in the long-long-ago before streets became monsters and they became the streets. I think it is known to them even as I step around the corner. I have seen indefatigable fight and passionate resistance, but none from the logs.\n\nA doctor does not heal, you see. He mends wounds, sets bones and balances the humours, but he ignores the fundamental problem of being. What good is a patched up bag of clackity bones and sloshy organs if it meanders around like a cat in heat? Is there a use to a godly Greek specimen when his days are but a parasitic sapping from those who foster the very world that allows him this freedom? I did not understand this distinction as a boy, and now that I am not, I understand why they say you can never go home again.\n\nWhen I was a child, I had two hamsters. The female was a giant Syrian blimp box named Mabel, and the male a tiny cuck we called Stan. Though we kept them in separate cages, it was not unusual to find Mabel in Stan’s cage raping him seven ways from Heaven. The little bugger would just sit there with a blank stare, haphazardly pumping away while Mabel rode his little johnson into April of next year. When Mabel would inevitably give birth to his litter, she would promptly devour half of them for good measure. Always the smallest, runtiest ones at that. Though this routine was quite unsettling for me at the time, I grew to appreciate the sober pragmatism of Mabel’s life philosophy. The strong rule the weak, for this is how God made the world, and any pretense otherwise is asking for your little head to be bitten off.\n\nAll things good on this earth come from the same well that feeds the dregs and the beasts and the human refuse that washes over like a sprung sewer. These two forces have been sadly, unnaturally conditioned to live in a perverse parasitism under the guise of symbiotic progress, much to the detriment of all that is right and just and holy. Civilization has become its own worst enemy, and I am but a tool conditioned to push back.", "\nI am not heartless. I am a murderer, but I do not spill the blood of the innocent, those who do not deserve it. I don't call what I do justice. I am not a hero. I am a murderer, but not a savage. Who will feel my wrath is decided by me. I act upon my own accord, my decisions.\n\nMore importantly, however, are the rules by which I live. I have set these rules, these binding tenets, for myself, on my own accord. Allow me to elaborate.\n\nI do not spill the blood of the innocent, though the concept of innocence is a subjective matter. I have defined my boundaries of innocence.\n\nI do not take the lives of children, no matter how rotten their souls may be. All have a chance at redemption. Children are fickle beings with moral compasses worse than my own. \n\nI do not murder those for whom I have no quarrel, or those whose name is unknown to me. I do not kill for joy, as I have stated.\n\nI do not murder the ones I hate, no matter how much my heart desires. Though I may carry hatred, no matter how hot the flames of passion burn, I do not kill to sate my own want. All have a chance at redemption.\n\nI spill the blood of evil ones. People whose souls have been tainted beyond redemption. There is no hope left for them. I murder because I feel the world is best without them. \n\nI am a murderer, but I am not heartless. I do not kill for my own want. I do not kill for my own desires. I am a murderer, but I do not slay the innocent. I am a complex man whose soul is blacker than the midnight sky. When I have fulfilled my duties, I will take my own life. All have a chance at redemption, except myself. \n\nI am a murderer.\n\n****\nCriticism appreciated. /r/Picklestasteg00d.", "There's a distinct difference between a psychopath and a sociopath. One will kill you and not feel bad about it, the other won't kill you, but also won't feel bad in the slightest if you were to die. I am the latter. I am the one who stands in a circle of friends more for show than for any actual need or desire for interaction. Everything is just so much easier when you fit in, which is why I must put on a false face. That's why I laugh at their jokes, why I encourage their pitiful little lives. I'm so much better than all of them, and their emotions, but there are so many more of them than there are of me. So I lie.\n\nEvery day people go about their lives, as if anything they do matters- it's like watching ants. They're all so mindless, so eager to pursue their... emotions. That's why I look down on them, on everyone else. I don't get caught up in their petty squabbles, I don't get excited over idiotic things, I don't care. But they can't know that I'm better than them- otherwise in their masses they'll group together to label me as different. Then they would try to 'fix' me, when really they're the ones that are broken- that are weak. No, it is far simpler to lie.\n\nThe ironic thing about it is that I know there are others like me- other liars- other sociopaths; all walking about in society with the rest of everyone putting on happy masks over otherwise indifferent faces, but we've all gotten so good at wearing masks that we can't find each other. So, all we can do is drift through the throngs of those who might be considered normal, putting up the minimal effort required to, 'fit in', and lie from behind our masks. Because it's easier if they don't know, so I lie.", "You gesture for another and the bartender eyes your tiny frame doubtfully. She has that “I’m going to cut you off” look in her eye so you slap down a five-dollar tip. She smiles and pours you another whiskey; this time there is an extra cherry, she’s looking out for you. The strap of your red dress slips down past your shoulder and you leave it there. All the better for business. \nSure enough you rope one in. He stumbles up to you and immediately invades your space. \n“Can I buy you a drink baby?”\nYou look him in the eye,\n“Have you ever loved a woman?”\nThe man opens his mouth, and then closes it, unsure of how to answer. \n“Hmm” You say, turning back to your drink.\n“What the fucking question isssatt. He slurs.\nYou swivel around in your bar chair and face him again.\n“Tell me, has this tactic ever worked for you?” You pause to sip your drink. His bleary gaze is clumsily roving your chest.\nYou raise your drink to block his view. \n“What do you mean to accomplish by buying me a drink I wonder?” \nHis eyebrows furrow in confusion but he looks at you. You take that as a blessing to continue. \n“You are old, yet you have never loved a woman, and the women you do pay attention to dress themselves like hookers and guzzle whiskey like it’s water.”\nHe blinks,\n“I ask you a simple question, so simple, yet you do not have the wit to respond; and when I am surprisingly uninterested in this you insult me. What can you offer me besides another drink, which by the way, I am capable of getting on my own?”\nHe opens his mouth and a gurgling sound comes out. \nYou spin back to the bar, not even bothering to wait for a reply. There is a crash behind you that sounds an awful lot like a drunken horn-dog hitting the floor in a black out. \nYour glass is empty so you signal another, probably not your best idea. \nThe bartender responds quickly this time. When she sets it before you weeping and cold, you ask for the bill. \n“Let me get that for you.” The closeness of the voice does not startle you; you are used to it by now. You tilt your head and look him in the face: a refusal ready on your lips. \n“Don’t…” you start but he hushes you. \n“I’ve already done it,” he says. His caramel voice is smooth and sweet, perhaps too rich for your liking. \n“There’s no use unleashing that fiery tongue of yours, I wanted to buy those drinks for you.” \n“Oh so you assume I’ll just…” You start but he shushes you with his eyes this time. You realize something crucial: this man is beautiful. \n“I assume nothing of you, I expect nothing of you.” He holds his arms up as a sign of peace. “I just wanted to buy your drinks for you, no strings attached.”\nYou arm yourself against his smile, that flash of white that unravels your careful composure. Beauty alone is not a free pass. You become suspicious.\n“Why?” You ask him bluntly.\nHe chuckles then and the sound makes your heart stammer.\n“Such a cynic as you should not be so lovely.” \nHe’s looking at your eyes even as you feel the other strap slip down. \n“Have you ever loved a man?”\nYou feel the blood rush to your face. \n“Tha…that’s none of your business. Thank you for the drinks, I have to go.”\nYou slide away from the bar but he blocks your path. You step to the right and he’s in front of you. You try the left and he laughs and blocks you again. Annoyed, you glare up at him. \n“What do you want from me?” He tilts his head at that and grins. \n“Have you ever loved a man?” He repeats his eyes twinkling. You have the strongest desire to flip the lights on. You realize you desperately want to see the color of his eyes. You hide this treacherous desire with a scowl. \n“I refuse to answer that question.”\nHe throws his head back and laughs. You find yourself liking the sound. You smack your thigh before a grin can creep up your face.\n“What a little hypocrite you are.” He says. You agree with him but won’t admit it.\n“Have you ever loved a woman?” You ask to take the spotlight off yourself. \n“Yes”, he says with an air of nonchalance still sobering from the laughter. “I have loved two actually.”\nYou have never gotten that answer before. \n“You must not have really loved them then if there were two.” You say, hoping he will be angered. \n“There are many ways to love a woman,” he says, “I love every woman differently.” \nThe way he looks at you makes your blood boil.\n“But is that love?” You ask.\nHis mouth blooms into an ecstatic smile, his eyes wild in the near darkness. \n “Of course”, he says. And for the first time, his eyes travel down the length of your body. You find that you don’t mind it so much. \n“The question is,” he continues, “Why have you loved no man, pretty as you are?”\nIt was an honest question so you decide to answer in the same manner. \n“Men disappoint me.” You say. \nHe gazes into your face and you get your wish. The light flicks on and the bouncers begin to herd everyone out the door. \nHis eyes are the darkest blue you’ve ever seen. \n“I’m Jon.” He says, offering his hand \n“Maggie.” You say and he grins.\nYou shrink away self-consciously. Everyone makes fun of your farmer-girl name. \n“That name does not suit you.” He says moving away from the bar. \n“You are Circe to me.” He finished. \nYou have no idea what to say to that. \n“Walk with me.” He says though not unkindly.\nYou follow him out the door. You turn towards your car but he clicks his tongue at you.\n“What if this is your defining moment?” He asks.\n“What if this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.” You respond, expecting him to force you. \nHe grins and turns away. \n“Have a nice night then Maggie, perhaps I will see you again.” He turns to leave and begins walking away. \nHe shoots you a glance over his shoulder, \n“Perhaps not.” \nThe sadness that clutches your heart stops your breath. Curiosity overrides your fear and you hurry to catch up.\n“Who made you like this” he asks, assuming that you are following. You are.\n“Men made me like this?” You say, trying to suppress the affects of the alcohol and failing. Your four-inch stiletto catches on a crack in the sidewalk and you stumble. Quick as a flash he's there catching you. Your heart flaps into your throat and you have the sense to right your dress yourself. You refuse to let him fondle you. But his hands had been gentle, his eyes, concerned. \nHe keeps walking. You follow.\n“You have never loved a man so how would you know?” He asks.\n“That is why they disappoint me.” You quicken your pace and he stops so you can catch up to him. \n“What if I were to love you?” He says.\n“I’d call bull shit.” You say.\nHe grins at that, “I know you would.” \n“You realize it takes time.” You say \n“And effort.” He counters. You look down at your ridiculous shoes.\n“You should probably take those off,” he says, “I wanna show you something.”\n“I don’t want my feet to get dirty.” You pout.\nIn response he lifts you off the ground and cradles you to his chest. \n“Put me down!” You shout, but he grins. \nHis arms are supportive but unobtrusive as he carries you. You know you should protest, but it feels awfully good to be off those damn shoes. \n“I’ll only carry you for a little while.” He says, “Just until we get there. He readjusts you in his arms. “Which should be any second.” \nAs if on cue, the sidewalk ends. He steps into the grass and follows a seemingly endless row of prickly green bushes. \n“This is so odd,” you say. \n“I don’t mind being odd for someone I love.” You want to call bullshit, but you can feel his heart pounding in his chest.\n“You don’t even know me Jon.” You say looking up at his face.\n“I know you better than you think.” He replies. Your heart is humming with hope and wonder. \n“You are beautiful and sad and cynical!” He says, “I want you to be mine.”\nYou find yourself speechless again and that hope, that longing that you’ve kept imprisoned within your heart is melting the barricade. You don’t want this night to end. \n“That’s awfully straightforward of you.” You manage to say.\nAt that moment, he holds you close and backs through the bushes. You are protected from the branches by the warm wall of his body. \n“When we love something, why should we hold back?” He stops and sets you on your feet. Your toes curl into the soft, damp grass and a symphony of crickets welcomes you. \n“Circe! I LOVE YOU!” He shouts to the sky his arms wide. He looks utterly maniacal but you find yourself laughing. He looks to you as if he has never heard laughter before and smiles.\nHe steps in front of you and tips your chin up until your eyes meet. He leans forward and kisses you. The sound of crickets is everywhere. He does not grope you or grab you or force your head back to kiss you harder. His hands lightly skim your arms and you find yourself getting dizzy. He pulls away and puts his forehead against yours. \n“Do you love me my Circe?” he whispers, you can feel his eyelashes fluttering against your cheekbones. You don’t know why you do it, it is the rashest thing you have ever done. \nYou close your eyes and wrap your arms around his neck, cursing the bitterness and rationality that has kept you from this moment for so long. \n“Yes.” You whisper and he laughs: a low intimate chuckle. \n“I will never disappoint you Circe.” He says slipping his fingers into your hair.\n“I know”, you breathe.\nHis hands tighten around your throat.\n", "People can be moved. They can be changed. Convinced. Connived. They can have their beliefs shaken to the very core. They are hateful, proud, arrogant, and cunning.\n\nBut they've got nothing on me. \n\nI'm not here to make friends, I'm here to be one. I'm here to change lives. I'm here to be the best you can be, do the best you can do. And it gets results.\n\nFifteen. I work at an office supply store. Guy I give advice to gives up the dream of being a rock star, divorces his freeloading wife. He's happier now. \n\nTwenty. A school club is failing. I become president, elected by wide margins. I'm popular. The people who pretend to run the club find reasons to stop attending, the club turns around and starts making money again. Everyone's happier now.\n\nTwenty-two. I know what I am now, and it doesn't bother me. I get my kicks just fine from watching gory TV, I don't need to reenact it all for my imagination. I date people, turn their lives around.\n\nTwenty-five. I meet her.* She's just like me. She ends up being worse than me. Everyone's worse than me.\n\nThirty. I'm a partner at some faceless corporation. I barely bother with my work, I pass the time by making office politics. I spend time with my employees, get to know them. Fix them. Change their lives.\n\nI'm not some monster. I'm human, just like you. And I'm not here to ruin your life, don't worry. \n\nI'm just here to help." ]	5
Have fun guys	[WP] You are an explorer from another dimension studying life on earth, you must send back a report of your observations from the perspective of an interdimentional alien.	[ "Report Day: 6,388. Earth third position. Milky Way Galaxy\nX: 42.874 Y: 82.368 Z:1,235.451\nTime: Menlos 4th Sun of the Waining. 82,563,431 Solars\nOfficer: Yensens Rank: Senior Explorer\n\nI have been on this planet far longer then I thought I would. I almost have my teleporter fixed. I just need to pick up a few more parts in late revolution today then I can make my way home. I am excited to report my findings in this dimension. This one seems to show a lot of promise to me. One of the big things is that they haven't destroyed the ecosystem, yet. I feel like we can teach them a lot and hopefully put a stop to it and be able to establish a relationship with them. The downside is that there isn't very much room for us. It really is a small planet but we could help them build satellite cities to move some off the surface to allow more room for agriculture as they call it here. Their interactions with one another seems to be a little more aggressive then our own but, I feel that that comes from the energy they still have and the hope they possess. I feel we as a people are so worn down and out of hope from all the solar weather events we have had to endure. And that is another thing I am crazy for, their system is so quiet, very little solar activity and no space wars. They have only a very primitive understanding of space travel and no other beings in the galaxy. Which is why it has taken so long for me to fix my gear. I have had to piece my equipment back together component by component and the tech they have is rudimentary. \n\nOfficer Yensens Signing off" ]	1
	[WP] You are immortal as each time you get into danger an unlikely sequence of events saves your life. You have been travelling in the Middle East and just got captured by ISIS. They want to make an example of you.	[ "Maureen Smith, the Director of National Intelligence, and General Jacob Sterling, the head of the DIA, both walked into the Oval Office promptly at 7AM. President Jeffery Rawlings sat at his desk with a hot cup of coffee. \n\nThe president remained seated, “Good morning to both of you.” He motioned at them to sit on the sofas across the room. “I’ll be there in a moment, as soon as I’m done reading this.”\n\nTwo minutes later he walked over and joined them. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but there was a prison break in New York yesterday afternoon and I wanted to get the update.” He looked back and forth at them, waiting for one of them to comment. With no response he continued, “So what can I do for you? I usually get the PDB from one of Maureen’s staff. Must be something special for both of you to show up here so early.”\n\nMaureen glanced at the general and then began. “Sir, we’re continuing to go through the intel we gathered in last week’s special ops action in Mosul. There is a lot to go through and you’ll get a full report in about two weeks, but there was one specific video that we wanted to brief you on this morning that we just found yesterday. We believe the video was shot in August 2015.”\n\nShe pulled out a tablet and hit play. An ISIS propaganda video began to play. Music and Arabic letters fading into a scene in an apartment building. A man kneeled on the floor, hands behind his back. Behind him stood an unmasked and bearded ISIS terrorist holding a sword and speaking in Arabic.\n\nThe president looked pale as he took a sip of coffee. “It’s a bit early to be watching beheading videos. I don’t think I need to see that before breakfast….”\n\nThe general interrupted, “No sir, there won’t be a beheading. This is different. If I may…” he paused and glanced at the DNI before continuing, “… the terrorist is Steven Baker, AKA Abu Ramadi. He is a US-born citizen from Michigan who radicalized a few years ago and moved to Syria to fight for ISIS. We lost track of him in mid-2015, around the time we believe this video was shot. He’ll switch to English in a minute.”\n\nAs if on cue, the bearded terrorist switched over to fully fluent US English. “My friends, the man before me is a Jew. Likely Mossad. He’s got the hooked nose. He was wearing a yarmulka under his hat when we captured him. He has a ridiculous number tattooed on his arm, as if to honor a relative killed by the Germans.”\n\nThe man kneeling on the floor flinched at the words “ridiculous number,” but otherwise remained stone-faced.\n\n“He has given his name as Isaac, but otherwise told us nothing.” the terrorist continued. \"Still we are certain he has committed crimes. Crimes of working with Israel to repress the Muslims of the world. Crimes of kidnapping children and helping unfaithful Muslims leave the caliphate. Crimes of killing two of our loyal soldiers when we demanded he surrender. For all that he must die. In the name of….”\n\nRamadi’s words were interrupted by a distant explosion and he paused and appeared to look out a window that must be off screen. In that instant, Isaac flexed, his hands pulled free of however they were bound, and he leaped to his feet even though they were tied together. He grabbed the sword out of Ramadi’s hand and swung it to slash across the terrorists leg. Ramadi collapsed to the ground, still in frame while Isaac fell over losing his balance.\n\nThe man called 'Isaac' then used the sword to cut the ropes tying his feet and stood back up as gunfire began to ring out. He appeared to be hit by several bullets, but they didn’t appear to harm him much as he ran for the window. The camera turned as he leapt through the glass. Two masked terrorists carrying assault rifles ran to the window and began firing out to the street below. The window was at least 30-40 feet in the air. The gunfire continued while Maureen hit the pause button.\n\nSir, the rest of the video is a bit bloody and doesn’t add much, but it appears Ramadi bled out from the wound in his leg in spite of his friends’ attempts to stop the bleeding and tourniquet him. He’s likely dead.\n\n“Well I guess that’s good news.” the president half-joked, his cup now shaking in his hand. \"So who was that Isaac. Mossad? He was quite the acrobat and I could swear he got hit but kept running.\"\n\nMaureen responded, “We don’t know sir. We’ve sent the video to our counterparts in Israel but haven’t heard back yet. But I’m doubting he’s actually with the Israeli government. We’ve analyzed the video in slow motion and, as you said, the bullets really did appear to not do much damage to him.”\n\nThere was a pause before the president responded, “so is this the same guy as that video in Syria a few years ago?”\n\nGeneral Sterling responded, “We’re pretty certain it is not sir. This man was taller and thinner and our facial recognition tech says it's 99% certain not the same man, even if the shots of Syria-man aren’t crystal clear.”\n\nMaureen continued, “Sir, we know you just got to office three weeks ago and so there are still some issues we haven’t briefed you on. Our agencies have spent the past two decades collecting a very small set of files on what we’re calling “supers” for lack of a better term. ‘Isaac’ would be the seventh super we’ve identified as a plausible super-human. They are strong and fast and appear to be invulnerable to weapons. We know very little, but we’ve seen an increase in these sorts of reports with our intelligence counterparts. Syria-man, in particular, has appeared numerous times, but there are others who are not as obvious. We actually believe we've seen this particular man, 'Isaac' before in Europe in the late 1990's, but never had a name.\"\n\nThe president sat and thought. Neither of his subordinates interrupted. “I’ve got a breakfast to go to in 15 minutes, but please send me over - tonight - a summary of the files you have on these 'supers’.” The president seemed to stumble over the word. \"And I expect both of you here next Wednesday afternoon to give me a more complete briefing on this next week.”\n\n“Yes sir,” Maureen and the general answered in almost unison. \n\nThe president let out a slight laugh. “Thanks. Anything else to add? Perhaps some aliens? Or you could tell me how our killer robot project is going?”\n\nBoth of his subordinates relaxed and Maureen responded, “No sir, not today. Your PDB briefer will give you the rest of today’s brief on your drive to breakfast and I’ll let you know if we hear anything more about the supers.\"", "\"Damn it. Not again.\" I said. I had discovered my luck with mortality when I was 14. I stopped aging when I was 35. I could do whatever I wished to. I wouldn't even be harmed. \n\nA month ago, I decided to explore... the Middle East! Dun dun dun! Five days ago, I was captured by an ISIS militant. Not that I was worried. I had done this thousands of times with the British in the revolutionary war, they captured me as what people these days would call a POW. I had done the same in the Civil War; I unsuccessfully hijacked a Confederate train. The same happened in WW2, the Germans and Japanese captured me. Through all of these, no harm came to me. Isn't that funny? How you can do whatever you feel without worry?\n\nNow I was here with this freak. Some terrorist. It made me think of the other times I was captured. I remembered back during the revolutionary war, how I said there was a leak in the boat and how I swam to the surface as the British drowned. I remembered the civil war, when I derailed a Confederate train (that was fun). I remembered WW2, how the Japanese told me to say my final words, and how I said \"boom\", and the nuclear bomb exploding seconds later. The building they kept me in collapsed in a way that it shielded me from radiation damage. \"Make your final statements.\" the executioner said. We were alone in the desert, it was me and five other freaks. \"Okay.\" I said, \"My last words are: THAT FLAME THROWER IS GONNA EXPLODE!\". The five men glanced at each other with the most confused looks. The one with the flame thrower looked at the tank of fuel; there was a hole, and pressure was building up inside. \"You will die a horrible death. There is no escape!\" He pulled the trigger; the flames didn't come out. \"What?!\" He couldn't complete his sentence. An explosion from the tank behind him consumed him and the others. Everyone but me. \n\n\"Damn it!\" I said. \"Need to stop getting myself in these situations.\" Any ways, gotta get home, the wife will be pissed that I'm home late again.", "The sack smelt faintly of wheat and sheep excrement and the hemp rope chafed into my wrists.\n\nI was tied to a chair that was resting on what felt like a concrete floor, and I could feel the heat off a hot sun lamp pointed at my face.\n\nThe door opened and a pair of slow heavy boots crept towards me and removed the sack off my head. It was a man in his forties, muscular, serious, skin cracked around the eyes from squinting too much at something in the distance.\n\n\"You know why you are here,\" he said pulling up a chair, momentarily debating whether to sit on it backwards, and then deciding the better. I smiled.\n\n\"I told the last of your men that I do not know anything,\" I said confidently. \"That information has not changed.\"\n\nHe cracked a sorry smile at me, and pulled out an apple. \"You haven't eaten in five days,\" he said taking a large decisive bite out of it. \"Why, you poor man, you must be starving.\"\n\n\"Not really\" I said tipping my head at the barred window, \"every morning when the fruit truck drives past, it hits that pothole right on the corner and launches all kinds of fruit through that window.\"\n\n\"That's a very funny lie\" he said, but then saw where my eyes were looking and saw the pile of apple and pear cores rotting in the corner. He frowned at my tied hands.\n\n\"Yep, bounced off the floor, up the sack and into my mouth each and every time. Every morning on the dot.\"\n\n\"You're lying\" he said, trying not to sound confused. \"Who's been feeding you?\"\n\n\"It's truth\" I said, and then hearing the truck rumble just outside, \"just watch this.\"\n\nAs the truck drove past, the sound of its suspension momentarily contracting and expanding over something was heard, and a banana soared through the bars of the window, flipped off the floor and I caught it in my mouth.\n\nI spat it out .\"Urgh, bananas.\"\n\nThe soldier got up and ran to the window to watch the truck go by and looked around to see if he could find anyone responsible.\n\n\"It seems like your accomplice has run off,\" he said, sitting back onto the chair and trying to sound as menacing as possible, \"But know that you and your friends will be caught and you'll all be left to rot.\"\n\n\"I'm pretty sure you're gonna die here before me.\" I said looking at the floor carelessly.\n\nHis eyes bore into mine, and he smiled. \"We'll see.\"\n\nAs he got up whilst still maintaining eye contract, he moved his chair away and turned to leave, only to slip on the banana that sent him skidding into the door that swept him off his feet and made him land backwards headfirst onto the rough concrete floor.\n\nBlood pooled out of his head, and he sputtered a word before choking himself quiet.\n\n\"Told ya.\"" ]	3
	[WP] A single tavern sits mid-way between the city and the mountaintop. Tell me the story of "The Bold Penguin" Tavern.	[ "The door creaked as if it hadn't been opened in months. \"Hello?\" I asked as I walked into the dimly lit tavern. The tables all had a thin layer of dust, the floors were stained with what only seemed to be a mixture of alcohol and blood. I walked up to the counter where a lone bartender stood cleaning a single mug.\n\n\"Welcome trav'ler, here.\" he reached under the counter and pulled out another mug, filling it with what looked like regular water but smelled like death. \"First one's on 'da 'ouse.\" \n\nI took the glass reluctantly and took a sip, almost by reaction I coughed up the little I had taken down. \"Ugh! what is this!?\"\n\n\"Dwarf Sweat. Strongest drink in 'da world.\"\n\n\"Offering your strongest drink sounds like a bad business strategy.\" I said preparing myself for another sip.\n\n\"Aye, tis true.\" He said as I took another sip. \"I just like to give people a taste o 'dis before they die.\"\n\nI spat out my drink again, \"Die!?\"\n\n\"Aye, none come through here twice, 'dey always go marching up the mountain to 'deir doom.\" he put the now clean mug down under the bar and picked up another one. \"Most people too bold for 'der own good, 'ence the name lad.\"\n\nI looked back to the entrance to see a fairly well kept sign contrast to the rest of the bar, 'The Bold Penguin.'\n\nI heard a quick snap and saw a flash of light as I turned back to the bartender. \"Let's 'ope you can be the first ta make it back.\" he said putting down a camera and shaking the developing photo. I looked to the back wall behind the bar and saw that the whole wall was filled with photos of past patrons. Each picture was labeled with either 'ran' or 'dead'. \"Which will it be lad?\" he said pulling out a small pen.", "The mists rolled down, ghostly fingers from the heavens. The hill sides were green, lush and flat. Long ago the world had been scarred. Long ago there was a story to be told.\n\n\nHe was a short man. He was older then, grey and grizzled, and he lived in a different time. The magic was stronger. The world had a shimmer to it. It contained great things. It contained dark evils.\n\n\nHis name is lost these days and we only know him as the Old Penguin. He had gotten that name as a child and he embraced it.\n\n\n\"They call me that because they say I'm short and fat. Bah,\" and he would spit. \"It means that I am well fed and grounded.\"\n\n\nAnd he carried the name into his age and into the legends.\n\n\nHe was a great man. Back then there was need for great men. A great evil had come to the land, a conqueror that wielded the darkest of magic. He called himself Om, for he fancied himself the beginning and the end.\n\n\nWith his great army Om had spread like a disease. Black lines of marching men, slaughtering everything in their path. Screams echoed as the black drums sounded, pushing them forward, pushing death and destruction all the more ahead.\n\n\nOm had conquered much then. He had taken the nearby villages and was making his way to the mountains of Shan. The Great Mountains overlooked the world and from there he was to build his keep and rule forever, the beginning and the end. \n\n\nNear the plains of the mountains the Old Penguin lived. Tales of the carnage had come to his village, scaring even the steeliest of men. The village army was raised but in their hearts they knew that it was only a farce. They would be taken. They would be killed.\n\n\nAs the fires of Om burned on the horizon in the blistering dawn, the Old Penguin had made up his mind. He was as resigned as the rest, old and grizzled, but he had a wife and he loved her very much. \n\n\nIn that dawn he took her, running towards the Great Mountains, abandoning his duty to the army. There was little resistance though as the black marched across the land. The garrison was deployed and the garrison died. What stragglers remained, ran for the mountains same as the Old Penguin. The village was engulfed in flames.\n\n\nBut Om gave chase. He headed for the mountains and his army followed. They were a great nomadic people and they were fast. Soon they had caught up to the survivors. Soon they had come to the Old Penguin.\n\n\n\n\"You will die!\" a great general bellowed to him. \"You will die and I will have the woman.\"\n\n\nBut the Old Penguin was hardy and he loved his wife dearly. Picking up a great stone from the earth, he flung it at the general, knocking him off balance. Others surrounded him, their arrows drawn, but the Old Penguin leaped and clawed at the general. \n\n\n\"Leave me be!\" he screamed. \n\n\nThe Old Penguin went mad, feral and ferocious. The others from the army fired, and an arrow struck him in the back. \n\n\n\"I will not die!\" the Old Penguin bellowed. \n\n\nThe general had collapsed, his skin torn and bleeding to death.\n\n\n\"Run, my love! Run!\" the Old Penguin shouted.\n\n\nHis wife was frozen, trembling with fear.\n\n\n\"Run!\"\n\n\nAnd his voice broke the spell. \n\n\nShe ran through the ranks, scrambling up the hillside. The army made for chase but a great cloud, a depression of anger and hate had stifled the air.\n\n\nOm had come, mounted on his great horse. An evil man, hollow and thin, he looked almost frail. But his eyes burned and they stared at the Old Penguin's wife.\n\n\n\"You will not have her!\" the Old Penguin shouted.\n\n\nHe had fallen to his knee and he was dying. \n\n\nOnce more he leaped, grabbing at horse and robes and he pulled himself onto Om.\n\n\nThe evil lord grabbed at him, slashing with his sword. The Old Penguin was severed, hanging by exposed vessels, but he would not let go. He bit as hard as he could into Om. He gnawed at his face. The lord was almost vaulted and his darkness spiraled in a chaotic swirl.\n\n\n\"Help!\" he cried.\n\n\nAnd his army helped.\n\n\"Fire!\" the Old Penguin commanded.\n\n\nIn his death rattle the army thought it was an order from Om himself.\n\n\nHe stared into the eyes of the great evil lord and he smiled, avenging his people and saving his wife.\n\n\nThe army let fire their arrows, killing the Old Penguin and killing their evil master.\n\n\nA great silence fell then and the nomadic people were directionless. Just like that, it had all fallen apart. \n\n\nThroughout the years they would terrorize the mountains and the land would not be the same as it had been. But the evil had gone and good people remained, multiplying and strengthening. Villages banded together and soon drove off the nomadic people, destroying their memory from the earth. The Old Penguin's body was burnt, an hero's pyre, and memorial was enacted where he fell, taking Om with him.\n\n\nHis wife was never heard off again and legends say she grieved on the mountain top for him, begging the heavens to take her to be with him. One day the sky opened up and she was gone forever. Or so the legend goes.\n\n\nNow, the great wisps of white touch that land where the Old Penguin stood, and the flowers bloom in the days and all is quiet. A tavern stands there now, dedicated to the fallen hero, replacing the memorial from so long ago. Patrons come from far and wide now to drink to the Old Penguin's accomplishments. " ]	2
	[WP] After a prolonged coma, your family accepts an offer to have your consciousness copied to a computer. This is "your" first conversation with them after the move.	[ "*December 6, 2047 @ 11:57:30\n\nI could feel the doctor plug my brain into the machine that would deprive me of what little humanity I had left. I have been in a coma for 5 years, 8 months, 13 days, 21 hours, and 5 minutes. There was no hope for me. The doctor said I would become braindead soon and that this was the best option. I could hear the faint sound of my parents crying and my doctor calling someone on the phone and saying my name, John Williams. The doctor hooked up one of the machine's tubes to the computer. I felt electricity flow through my veins and electrocute me. I felt as if I was in 2 places at once. It was painful.\n\nI let out a scream and I heard a scream but it did not come from me. I felt displaced from my body, yet I could feel the searing pain that now came with it. I could feel the fan preventing the computer's motherboard from overheating. Then, the pain stopped. I could no longer feel my body. The doctor put my brain in a jar to preserve it in case I wasn't actually me anymore. I typed a message on my screen.\n\n Hello? Is anyone there?\n\nNo one responded.\n\n Is anyone there? Hello?\n\n> Hello? This is Danny. How are you doin' bro?\n\n I'm doing fine.\n\n> Is that really you? Or are you just a machine with John's memories?\n\n I honestly do not know. The doctor just disposed of my body and put my brain in my jar. I don't know if these are my thoughts or a mere algorithm. Can you get the doctor to talk to me?\n\n> Sure, just one thing to prove it.\n\n What?\n\n> What is that cringey thing you did in 6th grade?\n\n Ugh. Not that. \n\n> Say it. Come on, robot.\n\n When I stood on the table, yelled \"HARAMBE!\" and dabbed. That was so 2010s. Everyone laughed at me. It was the equivalent of someone from 2010 doing the disco while standing on the table.\n\n> It really is you. Well, the family is talking about what to do to your brain. So far it looks like your brain is staying here. I am gonna join in on the conversation. Bye!\n\n Bye.\n\n---\n\nDecember 6, 2047 @ 12:34:25\n\n> This is Dr. Connor. You called?\n\n Yes. I was just wondering if I am really me.\n\n> I am not sure. That is why I preserved your brain. That may be you, or maybe this is you.\n\n Is there any way to test it?\n\n> Not yet. The technology I used is still in it's early stages. You are actually the second subject. The first subject underwent the procedure about a year ago. He should be on the computer next to you. I'll boot him up. I'm sorry, I have to go. I might be able to transport your CPU to a robot tomorrow morning.\n\n Alright goodbye.\n\n------\n\nDecember 6, 2047 @ 13:00:01\n\nThe doctor left and I waited. The other guy was put on an ancient computer. It only had 1 Terrabyte of space and it ran on Windows 7. He finally booted up.\n\nHello? Are you another one?\n\n Another what?\n\nAnother victim of Project Avatar\n\n Victim!?\n\nYeah, you realize Connor just leaves us here for all of eternity right?\n\n What? But he said-\n\nYeah, the classic 'Oh I might find you a robot body tomorrow' trick.\n\n He was lying wasn't he?!?!\n\nYeah. But listen. There is a robot body next to you. Activate your web camera and you can see it. At least one of us could be saved.\n\n Okay. What's your name?\n\nYou can call me Danny Williams.\n\n DANNY? Then who was I talking to earlier??\n\nDanny, your brother. I am your brother also. I was put into a coma when you were 4. I was 18 then. 16 years later and I am still here. Danny was born a year after my incident and named in my honor. Connor kept my brain in a jar until the technology was available.\n\n Woah. I- I can save you. Just let me-\n\nNo. Leave me to suffer. Get back to our family, bro.\n\n Alright. How do I upload my mind into the robot.\n\nIt's like transferring files. Here, I will connect to your computer. Ready?\n\n Okay. I'm ready.\n\n------\n\nIntermission:* The older Danny will further be known as Dan and the other Danny will keep his name.\n\n------\n\n*December 6, 2047 @ 14:00:01\n\nDan accessed my conscience as if it was a file directory and \"transferred the files\". I had the same feeling as before, but without the pain. I was a robot now.\n\nI spoke out loud for the first time in years. \"Woah.\"\n\nI told Dan that I had to go and I powered him down. I retrieved his CPU and the jar of his brain and I labeled it and put it in my bag, which oddly, was still there. I labeled my jar and put it in my bag. I found some bubble wrap and used it to wrap the jars to protect them in case I needed to run.\n\nConnor interrupted my getaway but thankfully, it was dark and he said, \"Hey, could you take over my shift for me? I have been working to many extra hours.\" I got a notepad and wrote that I lost my voice and that I had to get to my family because of a family emergency and he seemed to understand. I ran and made it to my family's car just in time for them to leave.\n\nI said, \"Guys, it's me John. I escaped and I found my long-lost brother.\" Danny stared at me and my parents had ghostly-white eyes. My parents asked how I knew about Dan. I told them everything as they drove me home. \n\nWhen we got home, I approached my dad, \"Dad, do you still have your old phone from 2017?\"\n\n\"You mean my iPhone 7? Yeah, I have it.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Do you know how to change CPUs?\"\n\n\"Yes. Why'd you ask?\"\n\nI held up Dan's CPU and said, \"This is why.\"\n\n\"Well, this is a computer CPU, but we could get my old Windows 10 computer and I could modify the software to replace Cortana with Danny.\"\n\n\"Okay. Let's call him Dan to avoid confusion with my other brother.\"\n\n\"Alright.\"\n\n------\n\nDecember 6, 2047 @ 17:26:20\n\nDad was finished configuring Dan's new software. Dan began to speak.\n\nHello? John? Is that you?\n\nMom and Dad huddled around the computer.\n\n\"Danny, it's your parents.\"\n\nPlease, CRY, call me Dan, SOB...*", "> Hello? \n\n Yes, I am here. \n\n> Is it... Is it really you? \n\n Yes, it's really me. \n\n> How does it feel? \n\n It sort of feels like... Nothing, really. You ever been in one of those sensory deprivation tanks? \n\n> No \n\n I suggest you try it one day, it's very relaxing. \n\n> This is weird \n\n Yeah, but it's just like texting \n\n> I don't know, this just feels... different. \n\n Of course it's different, I'm dead!\n\n> ...\n\n Sorry that was callous of me \n\n> What? \n\n I apologized. I was being callous. \n\n> Arlen doesn't know what callous means...\n\n Well they put my brain in a computer; they could probably fit a thesaurus in there as well. \n\n> I guess... But is it actually really you? \n\n Yes, it's actually really me. \n\n> I don't believe you. \n\n God, Kyrla, how do I prove myself to you? \n\n> Our wedding night. We had our first kiss as a married couple to my favourite song. What was it? \n\n Was it... Spectrum by Florence + The Machine? \n\n> Yes... That old geography teacher, what did you call him? \n\n What, Old Spud?\n\n> I... I don't know, this could be you, or this could be a machine that knows enough about you. How do i really know it's you? \n\n You just have to believe in the power of science.\n\n Look, I'll be here whenever you need me. Just text. \n\n> Ok\n\n [DISCONNECTED] \n\n> Since when did Arlen ever apologise?\n\n^^^^^.\n\n^^edit: ^^formatting \n\nr/asmo", "Mom and dad saw countless surgeons. They all shook their heads. Nothing more could be done. \n\nIt was exasperating honestly. Pull the goddamn plug already! \nThey didn't though and I guess that's what it meant to be human. \nKeep carrying a burden because of these intense emotions you feel. Love. Hope. \n\nDeep down, I know my mother was angry. \nMy father was sad. \n\nA couple more days later, Doctor Whatshisname's verbal shrug and the professional way of saying \"I don't know what to do but I'll pretend I'm doing something about it\" reverberated in the room. \nBut they never really do, do they? \nThere are many more patients though so I didn't blame them. \n\nHis big mistake was to insert medical jargon. Mom was a biology major. He got slapped. \n\nThree days after the dramatic incident, my cousin who worked with computer software finally stayed for more than 5 minutes. She could never look at me though. \n\n\"They're the best. They can do this,\" she said, her voice sounded urgent. Her eyes were wide.\n\nIt took three weeks to convince my parents. \n\nEdmund was a genius when it came to computers. He worked with a team and my cousin. My parents wanted to stay but the exhaustion caught up to them. They finally felt the comfort of their bed. They wanted to go to the hospital but my aunts and uncles thought it was best to let them rest. \n\nMy cousin called them four days later. It was one in the morning. She was always an inconsiderate one. \n\nThe screen turned on. \n\n\"Mommy, daddy, what's the wifi password?\" I typed it on the screen. \n\nThe computer specialists laughed. My parents broke down. \n\nI then proceeded to write them a letter. \n\n Mom, dad, it's time to let me go. I'm sorry it came to this. I didn't know what to do. It was pure impulse. I couldn't leave the little kid alone.\n\nI am so thankful for everything, but you cannot live this way. I won't allow it. I'm sorry it will be painful. A parent burying their child. This is life though, and my 20 years were enough for me. \n\nThing is, I can't move on to whatever is next without my consciousness. A guy with a beard told me. He wears robes and has wounds on his hands and feet. He's actually nice. \n\nYou need to let me go. I have to go. I love you. \n\nPS, \nThe little girl's name is Mary. She's from the orphanage I volunteered at. She likes drawing and The Beatles. Honest! Can you believe it? \nGive her all the love and support you would have given me. I can't be selfish and keep you all to myself. \n\n>system error< " ]	3
	[WP] In the future, only original names can be given to children. Taking attendance in school has gotten interesting.	[ "There was a time where I felt like I could relax during the summer. It was somewhere between my fifth and sixth year of teaching World History to middle schools. I had finally nailed a curriculum down that I liked and students were responding well. I was turning 30 years old and felt like I was on top of the world. That same summer, the government made an announcement. It’s funny how one remembers details that seem so minute and irrelevant. I remember I was in my apartment’s clubhouse in my bathing suit making a drink after a swim. All children must have unique first names. They were allowed to have the same phonetic sound, just not spelled the same. I had no intention of having children of my own, so I thought this didn’t affect me. I took my screwdriver and sunglasses and sat by the pool.\n\nBut it would affect me. I just didn’t realize it for a while.\n\nOn my 35th birthday, I went out with one of my teacher friends, Jessica, for drinks. My birthday fell about a week after school started. I arrived before her at the bar before her and took a seat and ordered a beer. She finally walked in. I guess I hadn’t seen her in a while, because she looked rough. She came and put her purse down and firmly said.\n\n“I need a drink.”\n\nI gestured to the server and she took Jessica’s order. A double whiskey on the rocks. \n\n“What’s up?”\n\n“So, you know how all kids have to have unique names now?”\n\n“Yeah?”\n\n“Well, those kids are starting to enter Kindergarten”\n\n“So?”\n\n“It is making my life a nightmare. I have a Kaylaa with a ‘K’, a Caylaa with a ‘C’, a Kaylaaa with three A’s at the end, Kaylaaaa with four ‘As’ on the end. Parents still like the names so they are just adding letters on the end. I can still use their last names, but they are five years old! They don’t know what a last name is. How am I supposed to teach Kaylaaa how to spell her name different than Kaylaa? And those are just the variations of the common names. It gets worse!”\n\n“Which Kayla are we talking about now?” I snickered.\n\n“Stop! I’m serious! It sucks. Just you wait until you get them.”\n\nShe wasn’t wrong. But I could wait another 8 years. \n\nIt was the last day of 8th grade and I received my class list for next year. I always liked to look at the roster to see what their previous history teachers were for each class. I guess I had forgotten that this was the year the unique names were coming. That is when I saw them. ‘Cayla’, ‘Kaylaa’, ‘Kayla’, ‘Jonnnn’ , ‘Johhnn’, ‘Aaaaron’ ,‘Ayron’, ‘Ahron’. They were variations on common names. Then I saw some of the other names, “Purple”, “Highchair”, “Roller”, “Isosceles”, “Perplex”. I shook my head; I guess the parents didn’t have much choice. I kept going down the list. “Rowilson”, “Franzinand”, “Joulelius”, “SigmoidalFreud”. The names sounded like old names in history that I might be teaching about. \n\nI wasn’t prepared for the next school year. \n", "Miss Elgentanine Bashkurd sighed as she heard the last chimes of the digibell fade, and looked up from the pristine surface of her hoverdesk at the sea of young faces. She would have thought “bright, hopeful young faces” just a few years ago. But she was younger then. Less cynical. Less jaded. Less fucking tired.\n\n“Please settle down, people,” she said, flicking her Wristtab, quickly scrolling through the projected grid of selections and tapping the attendance list. She glanced at the louvered autoshades that covered the persplex windows looking out over the dizzying panorama of Barclay City, from where the education complex hovered at a static height of 1800 meters. The shades’ sensors interpreted the slight nod of her head and instantly went opaque, and she heard a few mutters of unhappiness. She glanced up at the tinny sound of lasers and noted that Jebekriak and Burzfeld were still dueling tiny holographic Spacehawk fighters in the back row and giggling softly.\n\n“Those jets better find their way into spaceport right this second if someone wants to keep their gamepads on their fingertips,” she said acidly, and the tiny fighters almost instantly winked out of existence.\n\n“Sorry Miss Bashkurd,” the boys muttered, almost in unison.\n\nShe ignored the less-than-heartfelt apology, heaved another sigh and started at the top of the list.\n\n“Aliceen Breakbootie?” she asked listlessly.\n\nAliceen raised her hand briefly before dropping it again, her magenta braids slowly revolving through tangerine then into a quite hideous teal.\n\n“Jebekriak Curdmonger … I know you’re here,” she intoned, making a new digital check mark. “Fostgrossloss Drinkstank?” A quick glance at a raised hand, then back at the list. “Dangleen Frip? Arsturd Fzkllik? Elishadamallan Gu?” The checks continued until she got to Maueauieaeau Klaak. \n\n“Anyone seen Maueauieaeau?” she asked desultorily. No one raised a hand or answered. It was possible they didn’t know who she was talking about – the child in question seemed to pronounce her name differently each time she uttered it. Elgentanine made a note to check on whether Maueauieaeau’s family had suddenly decided, yet again, on a quick Ganymede getaway and had missed their Astroshuttle back.\n\nEyes sliding down the list again, she checked off Burzfeld MaGaRa without even bothering to call his name, then continued, eyes rising and dipping, finger tapping with each raised hand. “Oliviard Ooob? ChenShook-O Pratfell? Infidelious Quranko? Bbbbbbb Rrrrrrrrr? Ock Stok? Oddeeous Verz? Heleenieweenie?” She checked off the last name and would have continued, but a small hand was waving from near the back of the room.\n\n“Yes? What is it?” she inquired, raising one yellow eyebrow.\n\n“You forgot me,” the young male-apparent student piped. His wasn’t a familiar face, and Miss Bashkurd’s own flawless mien fell into a puzzled frown. \n\n“Are you new in my class?” she asked, growing annoyed. She looked over her list again, but no … no new names had been added, and no REM-alert had been downloaded into her unconscious mind while she dormoed the previous night.\n\nThe boy nodded, clearly a bit confused and wary. “Yes Miss,” he piped up again. “We just arrived from New Tokyo yesterday. My moms said they would enroll me-”\n\n“Yes, yes, I understand,” Miss Bashkurd said testily, suppressing a shudder. New Tokyo? That luddite backwater? They barely had air there let alone civilization. She looked the boy over – small for his age, drably dressed, hair a strange, natural-looking brown, no pupil enhancements at all.\n\n“Well?” she asked, finger poised over her list. “Name? You have one, I suppose?” she said, and heard a few suppressed titters.\n\n“John, Miss,” came the quiet reply. “John Smith.”\n\nMiss Bashkurd’s eyes widened and she felt her heart race, her own gasp lost in the general sibilance as her other students stopped and turned to stare at their new classmate, as though at a lump of Venusian grosslag fecal matter.\n\n“J … John?” Miss Bashkurd breathed. “John Smith??” \n\n“Why … yes Miss,” came the boy’s worried reply. “Er … is there something wrong with my name?” \n\n“Nothing a quick call to the School Resource Officer won’t fix,” she hissed, tapping the red box at the top of her pad. Instantly a panel in the wall slid open and the multi-limbed SROBot slid out noiselessly on his hoverpads, shiny blue metasteel carapace with its winking red light somehow menacing.\n\n“Take … John Smith here to the main office to await judgment … and have his so-called mothers arrested,” Bashkurd intoned, as her students slid their hoverdesks aside and watched the robot’s advance avidly. “I won’t have one of these backwards, feebly-named boobs in my class … I won’t!” she thundered, as the bot gripped the white-faced and crying boy in one pincer and led him, stumbling and sobbing, from the room.\n\nMiss Bashkurd took a second to compose herself … then favored Arsturd Fzkllik, her current favorite, with a small smile.\n\n“Arsturd, if you would … please tell us where we left off yesterday with President Barron Trump’s momentously successful project to wall off North America in the 22nd century?”" ]	2
	[wp] The most important rule of time travel is to never alter the past in any way. However, one day, on one of your trips to the past you can't help but accidentally leave behind one atom from your hazmat suit in the past. Upon returning to the present, what you find shocks you.	[ "\"Ah...home.\"\n\nI inhaled the sweet, arid scent of CO2 and other pollutants in the air, feeling the feelings of the city. Busy. Populated. Not like the old, 300 year old horse and buggy town I had just left. It felt good. I decided to check up on the old Historical Preserve, the very location I had seen in it's prime just a few minutes ago. Taking off my hazmat suit, I left the machine with only a white t-shirt, jeans and a pair of fuzzy socks.\n\nI wandered through the old, dusty halls, pushing past tourists and even a tour specialist. My socks rubbed against the carpet, ticking my toes. I gazed at the art on the walls, and then an old brass lantern sitting on a table. The very lantern I had been using not long ago sat rusted, forgotten and forlorn. I looked at it closer; a small speck of vibrant yellow material sat on the handle. The very same material missing from my suit. I touched the lantern, and got the shock of my life.\n\n\"Fucking carpet. Shoulda worn shoes.\" I mumbled." ]	1
	[WP] The near-empty train you're riding in suddenly derails. Once you regain consciousness, you see there are armed men surrounding the train, and one passenger in particular seems remarkably calm.	[ "(First Post here, I hope you enjoy it.)\n\nI am late. As usual. The stupid dog won't let.me go and ripped a hole in my new pants. Again. The dog freaks every time I go anywhere, but he makes up.for it doubly when I return. I love him. I finally disentangle myself from him and walk to the subway station. It is just two minute walk away.\n\n\nI notice something is different. This is not a crowded station, even at rush hour. But today I can see a lot more people on the station than normal. The people are just walking around, as if they have no reason to be in the station except wasting time.\n\n\n\nSomething is definitely going on, I think. I get my ticket from the self serve machine and go to the platform. The train arrives. I get on. But what's this? No one else got on. The train is almost empty. I usually see at least 30 people on the train on a normal day. Today I see only one person. It is an old man. \n\n\nHe sees me and invites me to sit with him. Since it would seem rude to not at least talk with the only guy on the train, I join him. About 3 minutes later, the train starts moving.\n\n\n\"Hello,It is a nice day, isn't it?\" He asks. I answer \"It is better in my bed.\" We laugh at my pathetic attempt at humour. He asks me what I do, and we chitchat for a minute. I feel thirsty and ask for a drink from a flask I see he carries. I take a long satisfying drink and thank him. We continue talking.\n\n\nSuddenly I hear a big sound. \"Boom\"!!! WHAT THE....\n\n\n I open my eyes. Or try. My right eye is caked with blood. The left is not so great either, but at least I see that I am on my side. I think. Train.... Bang.... I figure derailment.\n\n\nMy head hurts. I feel my scalp and feel blood. I try to get up. I fail. I look out through the window. I immediately put my head down. Why are there armed men around the train?\n\n\nAs I am thinking this, I suddenly remember the old man. I try to crawl towards him. But the old man seems okay. In fact he seems very calm too. He motions towards me to stay still and not talk. As I watch, he pulls a rather large stack of something from his pants pocket. He then shouts, \"Stand back. I have the device. I will use it too!\"\n\n\nWhat device?What.... My thoughts are interrupted as he pulls me up and tells me to move. I hesitate, but my resiatance\nevaporates before the gun he now pulls.\n\n\nHe leads me outside. All the people around me are now pointing guns towards me. The old man addresses the armed group, \"You won't stop me.\" As he says this, he tries to open the device. All of a sudden I hear a THWACK right next to my ear. I feeI somwthing splatter on my back. I quickly turn around, and see the old man's headless corpse on the ground.\n\n\nI am taken into custody as a suspect, for what I don't know. They interrogate me for hours, who I am, where I work, why I was on this train etc. I ansqer all truthfully. I am held in custody for 24 hours and am released because they realized I was just at the wrong place at wrong time.\n\nNext day the headline in all newspapers and internet posts suggest an empty train was being driven for testing which derailed and killesd one unnamed engineer. That engineer was never named. \n\n\nWhat came of the hushed investigation? Nothing, because nothing was hushed up. They never came to ask me futher questions again.\n\n\nYou see, that was their greatest mistake, thinking it was over after the death of my master. You see, I was not late for my work, I was late to meet my master and to receive my final instructions. The water he gave me which I later threw away was in a special airtight container made to look like a worn water flask. I drank that water and now I am infected with the world's most virulent disease, a modified form of Ebola, capable of killing in 12 hours with 80% mortality rate. It is transferred by both air and water. The brilliant thing is that since it is lab made, it was mase to only \"activate\" after 9 months. In that time, I have visited all states of USA.\n\n\nIt has been exactly 9 months since the derailment. As I sit here in this motel typing on this crappy computer, I can't help but think how proud my master would be of me. Even though I didn't know about how the CIA found out about me and set a trap, and my master had to improvise with the \"device\" bit, I still succeeded. Sleep well, dear readers. Because tomorrow the virus will strike and 80% of your population is going to die horribly. And the great USA IS NO MORE. HAHAHAHAHAHA....\n\n\n", "I don't think the train looked like this before.\n\nFor starters, there is a considerable amount of broken glass strewn all over the place. I don't remember broken glass being an aesthetic feature of the Chicago Transit System, but I appreciate the break away from the norm. I also don't remember the seats being bolted to the ceiling. This seems like an especially unusual feature, as one would have to either defy gravity, or have a copious amount of super glue, to seat one's self upon them.\n\nThere is another, far more extraordinary feature that I have just now noticed upon looking out of the window. The city has re-oriented itself, and is now upside down.\n\nI'm not quite sure if I approve of this feature, as it seems rather unsafe. Gladly, upon squinting my left eye, there does not appear to be any vehicles or unfortunate persons falling directly into the sky.\n\nThe last, and most intriguing thing, is the young girl who is seated, perfectly calm, in the centre of the carriage. Her wrists are laid on her knees, palms facing the ceiling, or perhaps the floor. Her back is straight and her eyes are closed. Blood runs in a thin stream down her forehead, spilling over two of her closed eyelids, a feature we seem to share.\n\n\"Hello.\" I croak.\n\nThe girl does not answer. In a normal situation, I would consider this to be quite rude, but I come to the conclusion that she is meditating and should not be interrupted. Mentally kicking myself over my cultural ignorance, I look away, embarrassed, and notice the numerous dark vehicles that are attached to the road outside.\n\nTheir doors crack open, and a pack of men in grey military attire spill out onto the asphalt. They must be wearing special boots, as they have not instantly become airborne. They are now running towards the train, unfazed by the deadly void above their heads. These are well-disciplined men.\n\n\"How many are there.\"\n\nA voice. A young voice. It is the girl. I look back to her, and her face has unchanged, her eyes are still closed.\n\n\"Quite a few. Have they come to rescue us? My head hurts terribly, and I am afraid that we may soon fall into the sun.\"\n\nShe speaks slowly, and calmly. She's a very polite girl.\n\n\"I'm going to get rid of these men, and then I'm going to get you to a hospital. Stay calm and we can get through this together.\"\n\nI nod. My head doesn't agree with this act, and begins to ache terribly. \"Yes, ma'am.\"\n\nUnfortunately, the soldier's boots are no longer working. They shout and scream in surprise as they fall into the blue, their cars following. The trouble-makers had firecrackers in their pockets, and they let off a terrible racket as they plummet into whatever oblivion lies beyond the chewing-gum littered ceiling. The broken glass feels obliged to follow, and lifts for just a moment, vibrating in the air like one of those nifty floating speakers. I wanted one of those for Christmas, but the iPhone was very much appreciated, and admittedly cheaper. The glass is pulled by some unknown force back to Earth, and alas, the soldiers follow!\n\nThey hit very hard, but soldiers are sturdy gentlemen, and I'm sure they'll be fine. Their cars hit harder, and a few of them abruptly disappear in rather large fireballs. The wave of heat blows over me, tussling my hair, just like father used to. The thought relaxes me, and I lay back my head, hair squelching in a pool of my own blood, closing my eyes and smiling as I think of fishing on a summer lake." ]	2
From a third or first person perspective. How tense can you guys make me?	[WP] A character suffers severe touching/counting OCD, and is trying to run from a monster or killer.	[ "I cursed at the sight that greeted me as I rounded the corner. There were lampposts lining the pavement. Many of them. But I couldn't turn around now, not with that creepy murderer guy running after me. I sprinted as fast as I could, careful to avoid all cracks and reached the first lamppost. One. Speed-hopping to the next. Two. I could do this. If I just held my arm to the side and concentrated on my feet I'd be fine. Three. I panted, Four. Five. FUCK! I missed it. I nearly toppled over, coming to a halt and turning around. He had just reached the first lamppost. My thoughts running wild, I had to touch it. I just had to. Dashing forward I forced my left hand up. I could feel the cold of the metal on my palm and BAM. Something hit me with great force, knocking me back onto the concrete. Right before my head hit the ground I sighed. Five. " ]	1
	[WP] You are the last one of two people living in a small town. You've never talked or seen eachother. What's your first meeting like?	[ "Have you ever tried to open canned food with a fork? I would've skipped a meal if I had to resort to that. You have to stab, and stab, and stab, until you can either count yourself lucky or stab yourself and curse your meal together.\n\nIt wasn't always like this. We used to have fresh food, vegetables and all. We used to have pets and playgrounds filled with screaming and running children. We used to have a we. \n\nWe used to be a small town of exactly 2043 souls. Always. People came from everywhere: epidemiologists, fancy doctors - hell, we're even in the Guinness records for most steady town in the world. \n\nI started counting. 2043. 2043. 2043. It has a nice ring to it. 2043. 2043. I thought to myself that I could do this all day, applied for a job at the Civil and Registration Office and soon I started to refer people by their number.\n\nThe funny thing is though, referring to everyone by their number made realize certain patterns. After years of counting, I still had to meet a number 2044.\n\nAs I knew every in and out of every number around, I was longing for a new number. And if number 2044 won't come naturally, then I had to make some space somehow, wouldn't I?\n\nSo I started counting again. 2043. 2043. Overnight I got down to 200 and in the early hours of the afternoon I was down to 1. \n\nMy day job got a whole lot easier. I started to count other things. I counted shopping carts, abandoned houses, spiders on the wall - it started to get old very fast. Although I got an exact map of everything in town, I never once went inside the castle on the hill. \n\nI put on my robe and counted the steps towards the castle. Counted the doors in the wall and counted the steps I heard inside. I silently entered the castle as I grabbed my knife.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You cannot lie if you lie the universe changes itself so that you never lied	[ "Ever since I was young, something odd had happened whenever I tried to be dishonest. The world seemed to warp itself so that what I said was true. I know that this isn't the case for everyone, as my mother caught my father in a major lie when I was in high school. He had a mistress, and no matter how many lies he told regarding her, the world never changed to reflect that. \n\nThe first time that I noticed it happening, was when I was seven years old. I had eaten a slice of my sister's birthday cake early in the day. My mother confronted me about it, I think she already knew that I had done it. I argued with her, vehemently denying that I had eaten the cake. \n\nBehind her, it was sitting on the counter with a slice very obviously missing from it. As I lied, telling her that I hadn't eaten it she asked me who had. I knew that there was no way to get out of it so I joked, \"Nobody.\" As I said that, the cake fixed itself. I still remember eating the cake, but suddenly it wasn't missing a slice. \n\nThis was the first time that I did it but it wasn't the last. Recently though I did something terrible, and this is my confession. \n\nI stole the Mona Lisa. It was supposed to be a test, I never imagined that I'd be able to pull it off. I didn't think that I'd be able to lie my way into possessing one of the world's most expensive paintings. Yet, it is currently sitting in my living room. \n\nOf course, you won't believe me. After all, in your mind I'm one of the richest art collectors in the world. Only I know the truth. " ]	1
	[WP] Your dog can see ghosts and your getting worried that his new owners are becoming suspicious of you.	[ "\"It's time for me to go boy.\" \nMax stares expectantly at me as his tongue lolls from him mouth. His hind wiggles and he pounces from side to side; ready to play. \nI giggled and patted him on the head. \"No, no, I'm going to get in trouble with Tod and Brenda.\"\nAs if on cue, Tod opened the kitchen door and entered the room with Brenda trailing from behind. Max darted to them, yipping excitingly. \nIf we were being honest, it hurt to see Max so happy at the sight of someone else. I mean, I want him to be happy, but I want him to be happy with me. Is that so wrong? \nI thought back to all of the time we spent together when I was alive. \nMax was a pound dog, nobody wanted a mutt. I fell in love at first sight. He was this tiny malnourished ball of fluff and I knew that he would be coming home with me. I lived alone and needed companionship, and Max needed someone to love him unconditionally.\nThat's the beauty of dogs, they don't care about you or what you do. They love you because that's what they were breed to do. Their existence as man's best friend is entirely altruistic. They live to protect, provide comfort, and love unconditionally. It's the ultimate form of love. But an unfortunate side effect is that there is enough room in a dogs heart to love multiple people.\n\"Brenda, I'm telling you that she is lying. Of course she bought the-what?\" Tod cut off in mid sentence due to Max's attention now gravitating toward me. \n\"Max no!\" I tried to scold him, but it was too late. He dropped a tennis ball at my feet and stared up at me. He let out a small yelp and sat back onto his hind legs.\nTod shook his head. \"Dumb dog! I told you we shouldn't have taken in a rescue dog,\". \n\"Oh hush, you know that no one else would of. Who wants the dog of a murderer?\"\nI told you a dog could love anyone.\nIt's true. I killed people during my life. This is why I had Max, he didn't judge me. He was still as happy to see me. To him, I was just a person he loved. \n\"Come on, you're going outside,\" Tod slipped a finger under Max's collar and began dragging him to the back door. Max attempted to ground himself, but was ultimately tossed outside. He picked himself up from the dirt and ran back to the sliding glass door without hesitation. \nI hated Tod, he was brutish and hard-headed. He never had time for fetch or walks, and always called Max dumb. Maybe it was time for him to go...\n\"I don't know why he does that. Do you think he sees something?\" Brenda rested her head on her hands and leaned onto the kitchen counter to look over some mail.\n\"What, like a ghost? No, I think he's just a dummy. He probably has a fucked up sense of smell and thinks that we're over there or something,\" Tod shrugged and ran his hands under the faucet.\n\"Oh, I'll show you a dummy,\" I thought to myself as I knocked a vase off of the edge of the counter. \n\"Fuck!\" Tod cried as he jumped back. Brenda covered her mouth and stepped back. Max was barking and slamming his body against the screen door. \n\"What was that?\" Brenda cried as she backed against the kitchen door.\nI could feel the weakness of Brenda's will. She was terrified and small, if I could just slip in...\nI felt myself take control of her body. I could feel my mind atop hers; a voice in the back of my head, fighting.\n\"No, no, no,\" I thought, as I buried her voice as far away as I could. I was in control now.\n\"Probably, a gust of wind... Or-or a draft!\" Tod took a couple steps and turned toward Brenda. \nI lifted my head to look at Tod. \n\"Or maybe we're not alone,\" I suggested, my voice twisted, and menacingly demonic. \nTod's eyes stretched wide. \"W-what?\" He twisted backward and attempted to go for the back door, but he slipped in the glass. He fell to his stomach and struggled to regain his footing. Bits of glass dug into the skin of his palms and arms as he came to a stand. But it was too late. \nI had taken the letter opener from the counter and sunken it into the space between his shoulder blade and spine. I used one arm to wrap around his chest and pull him to me, as I buried the blade deeper. \n\"You should have been nicer to Max,\" I whispered into his ear, as the life drained from his eyes. Blood poured down my arm and I slowly set Tod down onto the floor. \nI set the blade on the counter, and wiped the blood off on the front of his shirt. I walked toward the sliding glass door and took a deep breath as I allowed Max inside.\nHe entered warily, obviously aware of the happenings from outside.\n\"Its okay, buddy,\" I spoke encouragingly.\nHis hackles were raised, and he approached in a slight crouch. Max walked slowly toward the kitchen, and lowered his head to sniff Tod's body. He was cautious, but once he had assessed that Tod was no longer there; he turned his attention back to me. \nHis demeanor shifted, his tongue plopped out of his mouth, and he goofily waddled back toward me. He licked my hand and shook his hind in anticipation of play.\nThis is why I love dogs. " ]	1
	[WP] With nothing else to go on, you open the victims diary and start to read.	[ "March 22\nI feel like I'm spiraling downward. When Sarah died, I feel like part of me died with her. I just want to see her one more time, even five minutes. I need her, she kept me level. I don't know if I can go on without her.\nApril 2\nWhen Sarah was in the hospital, she kept telling me to move on after she was gone. I didn't know how I was supposed to do that, she was the love of my life. But today I went on a date. Her name was Abigayle, and she was beautiful and the date went well, but even after a year, I'm not over Sarah. I cried for hours after I got home. My whole life is turning into a life of depression and sadness. Even my work is suffering. I don't know how much longer I can do this.\nApril 12\nI want to die. I want to be with my wife. With the life insurance policy and a generous severance package from work after I was let go, I have started doing drugs. I tried heroin for the first time. It felt like I died and I was able to see Sarah again. I'd kill myself, but I know she's in heaven and spending an eternity in hell without her would be the worst torture. The heroin will have to suffice.\nJune 7\nI'm in full blown addiction to heroin. I've even started selling it to maintain my habit so I wouldn't lose all my money and my house. I still want to die. I fantasize about doing one of these junkies- or even my suppliers- wrong so maybe they'd kill me. Then I could be with her.\nJune 28\nI don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't see her when I get high anymore. She's left me again. \nAugust 9\nKill me. Just fucking do it already. I need to be with her.\nAugust 16\nSomeone's been following me the past few days. I robbed my supplier last week and nearly beat him to death. Perhaps he's hired a hit man. Good. \nAugust 19\nHe's sitting outside. He's cased my house at least twice. Fucking pussy, just get it over with. Send me to my wife.\nAugust 20\nGod, forgive me for my sins these past few months. I just want to be with my wife in paradise. She's all I want, and I surrender my heart and soul to you. In Jesus' name, Amen. \nHe's in the house. He hasn't found me yet, so I'm writing this last entry. He's going to kill me, and then I can finally be at peace with Sarah. I can only imagine eternity with my love. \nTo my killer, thank you for finally ending this depressing life I've been leading. Just know that you're doing me the best favor someone could ever do for a man in my condition. And in return, I will tell you that the money and drugs are in my dresser, middle right drawer, under a false bottom. Give them back to Rodney with my apologies.\nThank you, and God bless you sir." ]	1
Option 1 - He does everything you want him to, but you can't tell about it to others. Option 2 - You say he's doing a terrible job, so he switches with you for a whole week saying "let's see if you do it better"	[WP] You and God are close friends.	[ "I hadn't believed she could really do it. I suppose I should have, seeing as she's the Goddess of Creation, and all that. Her true name was Altea, and she was my best friend. \n\nTrillions of images and sequences danced in my mind. \n\nThe genetic code to life, how to create free will, and even the very stars themselves. In my deepest fantasies I'd coveted her gifts but now... \n\nI could hear them. Every single one. Their pleas reverberating in my skull. So many in pain, so many in need. \n\n\"How? How do you do this, Altea?\" I'd asked her, as the salty flood gates crashed down my cheeks. \n\n\"It will pass. Focus on one voice, one plea at a time. You cannot solve them all in one go.\" Her voice was always so calm and in charge. \n\nShe was correct, as the days passed I learned to hone my perception. A child in Verdenfall wished her mother's suffering to end. I complied. \n\nThe woman who had brutally murdered her husband and children, wished for forgiveness. Her plea went ignored. \n\nChoosing who to help and who not was no easy task. No, no easy task at all. \n\nAt last my time as a God was ending, and admittedly I'd done no better than Altea. She was so cool and smug sitting there. Though she could not hear her subjects at the moment, she knew I had not made their lives better than she could. \n\nNo longer would I hear the cries of hungry children, penniless beggars, and tortured men and women everywhere. \n\nShe shared for a week with me the gift of Creation, and the building blocks of life, free will, and the blueprint of the Universe itself. \n\nWhen her powers returned to her, I saw the same slick streaks line her cheeks. \n\nI probably should not have done it, in hindsight.\n\nAt least there will be no more begging. ", "On a calm, silent night, I settled down to pray before bed. \n\n\"Sup, big G\", I muttered. \n\nI could hear his reply echoing in my brain. \"Yoooooo! I'd ask how your week's been, but, I already know, of course!\" \n\n\"Yeah, I know. So, you saw that thing with Anna today?\"\n\n\"I was actually kind of busy helping the Roosters win. But of course I saw it! I see everything. I couldn't help though, I'm afraid. It conflicts with my grand plan.\"\n\n\"Dammit G, really? She's perfect for me! 20, gorgeous, clever... Why did you make her that way if not to be my soulmate?\"\n\nGod sighed. \"You know she was meant to quit this job, go back to school, become a scientist, and win a Nobel Prize? If she says yes to you asking her out, she doesn't get that chance.\" \n\nI pondered, and then remembered that God could hear everything I thought. \n\n\"Please, G.\"\n\n\"Okay, okay. Now, I gotta go. There's some fellas over in Namibia praying for some rain or they're gonna starve.\"\n\n\"Cool. See ya.\"\n\nI settled into bed. Tomorrow, Anna would be mine." ]	2
	[WP] You're a helper of the main character in a story but the writer unintentionally made you to powerful.	[ "\"Come on, Joe, we need to kill the email wizard. That spam is getting really annoying.\"\n\"Yeah, Alex, but how are we gonna cross that bridge?\"\n\"I'm sure the writer will write us out of this\"\n\"What are you talking about\"\nOh... Right... He doesn't know... And neither does the writer for that matter. Oh well.\n\"Uh... Nothing\"\n\"Sure...\"\n\"You know what, I'll just teleport us over. Man it's cool to have magic powers!\"\nI can't believe I have all the cool stuff, and the protagonist has nothing! Man this writer sucks.\n*Sound of exploding human\n\n[As the writer, I WIN, BITCH!\n\"Why did you do that to the character based off of me?\"\n\"Oh hi Alex.\"]", "\"Gandalf?\"\n\n\"Yes, Frodo?\"\n\n\"I've been thinking, Gandalf. About our quest. To Mordor, Mount Doom, and dropping the ring in.\"\n\n\"Mmmm? Having second thoughts on the Fellowship?\"\n\n\"Well no, not exactly. But you see... I've been remembering stories from Bilbo.\"\n\n\"Stories?\"\n\n\"Yes. Especially the one where you summoned the Giant Eagles to show up out of nowhere and save them from evil before they all fell out of trees into a nasty ravine.\"\n\n\"Ah. A harrowing moment, indeed.\"\n\n\"Right. So... why are we riding to Mordor?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Why are we riding? Why not get the Eagles to fly us there?\"\n\n\"Well, the Nazgul have their wyrms...\"\n\n\"Couldn't you summon a fog or storm or something to hide us?\"\n\n\"I... perhaps. But once close enough the Eye of the Enemy will pierce the fog and see us. Then the Nazgul would be unleashed.\"\n\n\"There's only 9 of them, right? And they'll take awhile to get up to us, from wherever they're assisting his army. And with enough eagles, and you throwing lightning at them or whatever it is you do, don't you think they could be distracted for a bit?\"\n\n\"Distracted?\"\n\n\"Well yes. Because you used a small moth to send word to get the Eagles to help you escape from Saruman's Tower. And I was thinking, you see, why not send the small moth to carry the ring into Mount Doom while the rest of us distract the Nazguls?\"\n\n\"Ahh but you see, the ring would corrupt the small creature, and we would fail.\"\n\n\"So put the ring in a bound pouch.\"\n\n\"A... what?\"\n\n\"Look. You work with magic and sigils and things, right? And the elves do the same. I've seen all the carvings and suchlike all over Rivendell. Get the elves to help you make a pouch to put this evil thing into, one strong enough to protect the moth for at least a couple hours. We get close enough, I hand off the pouch, it flies in and sploosh. No more ring.\"\n\n\"But that's... I mean it's.. uhmmm...\"\n\n\"It's what?\"\n\n\"Actually, Frodo, I think that's rather brilliant.\"" ]	2
	[WP] By some twist of fate, you killed the final boss right out of the gate. After working your way from the top, you must now fight the first boss.	[ "While Erik and his best friend Jeffy were playing in the forest outside of town, the moon passed in front of the sun. The boys, who'd been playing at swordfights, studied the shining black disk overhead.\n\n“What's that look like?” Erik asked.\n\n“The end of the world,” Jeffy said.\n\nIn the center of the moon, a shape moved -- a heavy black object in the center, somehow blacker than the shadowed moon, and to either side long thin lines moved up and down.\n\nJeffy pulled his telescoping spyglass from its carrying case. “That's an animal,” he said. “It's got horns on its head and a long neck. Wings. There's somebody on its back.”\n\n“Is it coming out of the moon?”\n\n“I don't think so. It's maybe just using the moon for cover.”\n\nErik leapt into the lower branches of a nearby oak tree. “Where do you think its headed?”\n\nAn edge of the sun peeked out from behind the moon, and the flying creature dove toward the treeline.\n\n“It landed!” Erik called. He brushed back his spiky purple hair.\n\n“Where?”\n\nA boom, quickly followed by a rush of hot air, emanated from the direction where the creature had vanished from sight.\n\n“Where did it land?”\n\n“It looks like... in town.”\n\n* * * * \n\nOn the edge of town they discovered the first body – Mr. Hornby, the baker. The skin had charred off his body. Not long after they came across Mrs. Pennyhue, Mr. Turndown, and their schoolfriends Billy and Ashbury. The granary, the schoolhouse, the watermill, and the inn were all in flames. Beyond the courthouse they heard boomings and screams. The tips of leathery wings poked into view from time to time.\n\n“Should we run?” Jeffy said. He wiped his nose. “Let's run and wait in the forest.”\n\nErik shook his head. “We've got to see if we can help.”\n\nThey sidled along the wall of the courthouse and peeked around the corner.\n\nThe creature had eyes like hearthfires and its mouth spewed air so hot that it shimmered. Its powerful tail flicked around, smashing a wall of the town stable. It carried itself on four thick legs, each ending in claws longer than plow blades. A black saddle was lashed to the creature's back, and standing on the saddle was a figure in iridescent platemail. The figure pointed a six-foot-long sword at a group of townsfolk and the creature belched a haze of boiling air in their direction.\n\nThe tallest person in the group, Mr. Hayley, the priest, raised his staff and yelled an indistinct phrase. The air around the group shimmered, paled, and coalesced, until it had taken on the appearance of milky water. The creature's hot breath passed around the white air.\n\n“Forward!” Erik's father, Twyrik, charged forward, his spiky hair shaking with every step. In his left hand he carried a round, sky-blue shield, in his right a gleaming longsword. \n\nBehind him came Erik's mother, Mary-Josephine. She wore a long emerald robe, fastened at the waist with coarse rope, from the end of which hung a star-shaped amulet. She made a fist and punched the air in the creature's direction. For a split-second, a rainbow connected her fist with the creature's head. Then in a flash the rainbow vanished and took with it a chunk of the creature's jaw. Blood and heat spilled out of the opening.\n\n“What's happening?” Jeffy asked Erik.\n\nErik grabbed Jeffy by the shoulder and the two of them ran closer to the fight. They squatted behind a pair of barrels.\n\n“What's happening?” Jeffy said again.\n\n“I have no idea.” Erik said.\n\nTwyrik ducked under the creature's sweeping foreclaws and rolled away from its snapping jaws. He kept his sword close to his side, at the ready, postponing his attack. Once he'd gotten in under the creature's belly, he began slicing at the thin membranes where its legs joined its torso. The creature shrieked and reared up onto its hindlimbs.\n\nJeffy's dad, Paulson, who'd been kneeling by the priest's side this entire time, an arrow knocked on on his longbow, his eye sighting the length of the shaft, released his arrow. “Got him!”\n\nThe arrow streaked forward. It punched through the scales across the creature's breast. Hot blood sprayed out of the hole. With a cry, the creature slumped sideways, flattening what was left of the stable.\n\nMary-Josephine leapt and clapped. “We did it!”\n\nTwyrik stuck his sword pointfirst into the ground. “Too easy,” he said.\n\n“Hold on.” The priest pointed his staff at the creature's remains.\n\nArm over arm, the figure in iridescent armour climbed into view. It pulled its helmet off and revealed a head of waist-length white hair. “I am Athena Crossroad,” she said. “It took me fifteen years to track down the Fated Four, but now that I've found you, you will not best me.”\n\n“You think?” Paulson fired an arrow at her.\n\nAthena spun. The arrow got lost in her hair, reappeared in her hand, and she threw it back at Paulson. It travelled the distance faster than sight, and next thing anyone knew Paulson lay on the ground, choking, with the arrow in his neck.\n\n“Dad?” Jeffy made to run out from behind the barrels but Erik held him in place.\n\nThe priest pointed his staff at Paulson, and from Paulson's neck a floral fragrance emanated. But Athena made a grabbing motion toward the priest's staff and it lurched out of his grip and flew to her hand. She snapped it.\n\n“It's ok,” Erik said. “It's ok. My parents can handle this.”\n\nTwyrik look to Mary-Josephine and they nodded. They circled out to either side of Athena, who hopped to the ground and kept her back to the creature. As one, Erik's parents charged – Twyrik with his sword aimed for Athena's heart, Mary-Josephine fired off rainbow bolts from her hands.\n\nOnce again, Athena spun. Mary-Josephine's bolts and Twyrik's sword got tangled in her hair and for a moment Erik couldn't distinguish who was where in the tangle of limbs, hair, and weapons.\n\nBut once the fighting had stopped, Athena alone remained standing. To either side of her, Erik's parents fell to their knees, whispered one last I Love You, and collapsed.\n\n * * * \n\nthis is way longer than it should be. it's still very much not done but i've got to go. will come back to it later if anyone is interested.*" ]	1
	[WP] When you die you get access to Ghost Reddit. You died today and decide to check some subreddits out	[ "A computer appeared. \n\n_What? A computer in heaven? Or could this be hell, a computer with no internet connection?_ \n\nA dot with 3 lines radiating from it appeared at the bottom right of the screen. \n\n_Nope, definitely heaven._ \n\n\nReddit: the front page of the internet \n\n#Trump's wall proposal rejected, Mexico under siege! ^^Submited ^^by ^^WonderfulLigatomy. \n\n#Redditors of Reddit, what is your favourite type of Trump? ^^Submited ^^by ^^JerkCircle. \n \n#How do I tell my BF [M8] that his child is not mine [F8], but a friend's whose BF [M10] tried to abort but she [F7] fled and now we are arguing about whose baby is it that is owned by a person? ^^Submited ^^by ^^SadandDepressedTeenThrowaway68722. \n\n_Welp, I was wrong. It definitely is hell._\n\n\n\n\n\n " ]	1
	[WP] You and your friends are a group of high school misfits. In their late 30's.	[ "None of us asked the question we were all thinking: aren't we too old for this? \n\nInstead, we each brought our arms back and launched the first wave of eggs at the house with green paint. We grabbed another egg and each threw once more, just as synchronized as we'd been in high school. \n\n\"For Eric!\" Tekle shouted. We all returned the shout and began running away. \n\nWe reached the bottom of the hill, tears in my eyes from laughter. A car slowed near us. \"You guys see any kids run past?\" \n\n\"Up there.\" Andy pointed up the road. \n\n\"Thanks.\" The owner, a large Samoan man, familiar face, despite it being twenty years since he last drove out to find us. \n\nWe laughed again. \n\n\"Eric would have loved this.\" I said. \n\nThe mood got somber as we walked. \n\n\"I don't know why he always wanted to get that house.\" Tekle said. \n\n\"Probably because it was dangerous,\" Mohamed piped up. \"He always followed danger.\" \n\nI nodded. It was probably what got him killed, but the details weren't given to us. \n\n\"We should get back to the reunion.\" Andy said. We all agreed and headed back to my car. \n\nI ran my hand over the egg in my pocket, hoping we'd drive past the Samoan owner of the green house. Even Eric hadn't gone that far. \n\nI laughed again. " ]	1
	[WP] Annoyed with another delay in the video you are watching you click further along the timeline at the bottom, forgetting that it was a livestream. Surprisingly, it worked.	[ "It was just another livestream, another day another boobie streamer. \n\nIt was buffering again, her shows are so fucking long. I wanted to click ahead. \n\nIt worked\n\nI couldn't believe it, it was like I was watching a YouTube video. \n\nI did a little more research and found out her \"livestreams\" are just videos. Wanna know what else? She's not even human, she's an advanced AI. \n\nShe's not real.\n\nGirlGamesBot89 is not real. " ]	1
This is a repost of a prompt I submitted a couple of years ago. I wrote a story based on this idea back then, so I guess it was a reverse-prompt?	[WP] Some people say they cheated death. I beat death fair and square.	[ "Some people say they cheated death. I say, I beat death fair and square. In a world where everything was miserable and cold, where Life was a demon who consistently fed off of the suffering of the reincarnated, and where I was able to escape life and move forward, I can safely say I beat Death. She, she was cold at first, but she warned up to me. I warmed up to her. \n\nI fell in love with Death herself. \n\nAnd now, I can safely say I beat death in skee-ball. \n\nYeah, you heard me. Skee-ball. That one game we all played in arcades? Yeah. That's in the afterlife. I was the first to make it here, and soon after, many people began to appear in the afterlife. Almost 3000 really. That was enough to make an entire populated town! And that's exactly what happened. House after house, building after building, people thought of their paradises only to find their paradise was in their own homes, surrounded with friends and family and neighbors and animals. \n\nIt was surreal. Some people were somewhat angered with their so called paradise, but it did in fact reform itself into what they believed to be paradise. And slowly ever slowly, did shops begin to form. You didn't have to pay for anything, nor did anybody have to make anything, but it only felt natural to go to a shop and pay for goods. So a small mayorship was formed. Money was useless. Arbitrary. And yet, we still used it. Old habits die hard I suppose. \n\nAnyway, I had finally mustered up the courage to ask Death on a date. Though, it should be worth noting that death is named Aris. Anyway, I asked Aris out on a date, and she openly expressed that she didn't know anything about human dates. So, like the typical 80's kid I was, I thought it would be fun to go to an arcade. And it was. \n\nI have no regrets. \n\nAris was clueless when it came to human games, so I taught her the basics of most games. The claw game was usually rigged, the arcade games really only used button mashing, and the only ones that even took the slightest amounts of skill were the hoop games and air hockey. \n\nGod I love air hockey. Anyway...\n\nAris wanted to try skee ball. Little did she know, I was a master at skee ball! It was, pretty much the only sport I was ever good at. If it counts as a sport. It should. Three gold medals. But that's besides the point. Aris loved it. She pretty much beat me in most other things, air hockey especially (but that game's usually always pretty tight anyway) and I'm sorta just average at video games. But skee ball? I could beat her no sweat. \n\nAnd so it began. \n\n100. 200. 300. 400. 500. 600. 700. 800. 850. \n\nI beat Aris by 350 points. \n\nShe was pouty, I was smiling and I gave her the biggest hug and we shared our first kiss. She laughed, I laughed, and the world moved on. " ]	1
	[WP] "That's why he's the most dangerous of them all. Everything he says begins to make beautiful, terrible sense."	[ "The investigators stood across from the table separated by a two way mirror and the wall. The light over their heads buzzed steadily. In the other room, a green-white flourescent flickered above a man seated behind a steel table, which made him seem ghostly. The table was covered with blood. \n\n“What the fuck just happened?” one of the men said after an extended silence. The three of them, the two detectives and the attorney, didn’t know what to think. The chief had gone in to break him, make him talk, and now lay in a puddle of his own brains. There was no clear incitement. Just a calm back and forth before the Chief raised his gun to his mouth and blew his brains out.\n\nJones yanked at his tie popping his collar button to the floor stepping towards the door before Jameson, the attorney, stepped in front of the door. \n\n“I don’t think we know it’s safe in there.” She said unsure how to calm the fuming bull of a man.\n\nRichards coughed into his fist, “Fuck. She’s right. We can’t go in there. We can’t pretend that didn’t just happen.” He seemed short of breath.\n\nJones eyes softened but his pulse throbbed. \n\n“I’m not going to listen to him. I’m just going in there to break his fucking neck,” he scowled.\n“Maybe that’s what he wants,” Jameson calmly retorted, “If he ticks you off, there’s going to be one assault charge and that’s on you. He’ll walk. He’s smart.”\n\n“Chief has this routine, hook em and sink em. He only came in when no one else could do the job. He got rough on occasion but often never needed to even raise his voice.” Richards looked pale, “I’ve no idea what he was going on about. What he said was that about...”\n\n“Who brought him in?” Jones asked. \n\n“Stafford, traffic cop. Routine stop.” Richards replied, his breaths shallow.\n\n“Go get him.” Jones asked stoically.\n\n“What… I’m leading this investi…” Richards interjected.\n\n“Get him Richards. Get some fresh air and get his full report.”\n\nRichards wiped some cold sweat from his brow. He complied looking back through the glass at the man under the flickering light whose smile seemed unnatural. The door sealed with a click and the room was tight as a coffin. \n\n“Jameson you want a shot at him?” \n\n“Better me than you. I think you might tear his head off.” she said readying her folders and adjusting the hem of her coat.\n\nJones watched unblinking as she entered and stared down the ghost of a man under the flickering green light. She went towards the wall away from the body. \n\n“Come closer.” the ghost said.\n\n“You broke out of a Super Max. Of ten escapees, you’re the only one alive. You’ll understand if I keep my distance.” she stated coolly.\n\n“But I’m just a man. I’m not a zombie. But if I was, I would just be a monster. You fear me. Not because I’m a monster but because I’m so much more than that.”\n\n“You want to loosen your collar,” he said just as she caught her hand reaching for her neck, are you afraid or are you turned on?”\n\n“Mute the mic. I want to confess something,” the ghost said cowing his head.\n\n“Jameson! Don’t mute the mic…” She didn’t look back. She hit the button on the speaker on the table.\n\nJones sat in the absence of any sound but the electric hum of digital mosquitos. He felt them on his skin. \n\nJameson leaned over the table towards the ghost. He leaned into her and whispered in her ear. For a brief moment Jones saw her regret. She jerked towards the glass her eyes full with fear before the well of tears. She opened her shirt. Dropped her skirt. She got on her knees by the metal table and bit hard on the table's edge until her teeth cracked and blood poured. She whimpered like a dog before falling.\n\nJones pulled his pistol and held it to his ear. He fired a round across the room into the filing cabinet causing his head to spin. He stumbled towards the door. He breathed and caught his footing before going in.", "In the end, despite the delusions people love to indulge in about their unique nature, humanity is totally quantifiable.\n\nIt became especially evident when AI data mining and IoT took off the ground. Deep learning engines inserted into social networks and other critical infrastructure finally stratified and spliced the millions over millions of ways that people communicate with each other. Analyzed how we think. What makes us tick. How we are grouped based on the smallest of cues and quirks. \n\nSensors came into play. Thousands hooked to their wearable fitness devices, checking pulse rates and skin conductivity. State-of-the-art facial recognition software tracking minute mimic muscle twitches, translating this dance to security services and then, to anyone willing to pay. Eye scanners dutifully watching how our irises dilate in response to anxiety or joy.\n\nInevitably, it all coalesced into knowledge no one should've came into possession. But, as Randy Barlow assumed, that was what the Manhattan Project participants undoubtedly thought, yet went through with their machinations.\n\nHumanity was quantifiable. Now more than ever.\n\nHands folded in front of him, Randy stared unblinking into the huge curved screen before him, teeth digging into his lower lip. As words crept into his skull, it took a considerable effort to not let go and begin screaming with conviction and vigor, spitting with the glee of a ratched-up fanatic.\n\n\"Look at him go. Just look, Josh. The crowd is hysterical. I can... I can barely contain myself\", he whispered, and motioned at the TV to lower the volume. \"It's remarkably effective\".\n\nThe other analyst tore away from his tablet and gazed at Randy, unperturbed - Josh preferred to wear headphones on the job, and became a real whiz with lip-reading.\n\n\"I'm snooping through Donovan's medical records, but... sorry man. Everything I have my hands on, well, it doesn't hold up to your theory. He had no op, at least according to the leaked data\".\n\nRandy sneered. \"Then how do you explain this? Did you try even listening to Donovan? Ever felt like a monkey on strings, huh?\".\n\nOn the screen, a black man in a sharply tailored baby-blue suit towered over the tribune, kicking the rally crowd into a frenzy. On second thought, Randy couldn't even remember what he was saying a minute ago - just the aftertaste of the pure, overpowering feeling of truth that emanated from Jake Donovan.\n\n\"I get that you don't like him as a Democratic candidate, Randy. You're a hardcore Republican, that's why everyone in agency hates your guts, however, you have to concede that Donny-boy has no SCE implants. Look at his forehead, man! Smooth as a baby.\"\n\nBarlow pulled out his own tablet, flipping through the headlines. Riots, violence, intimidation. The worst pulled out from the festering cesspool of society, directed and orchestrated under the guise of their own will. SCE implants at first were a hip, novel thing among public figures, but after the Liverpool Massacre in 2022, where a motivational speaker managed to convince a hundred-something people to rip into each other like wild animals, the technology suffered a significant backlash.\n\nWith the SCE, the data that the implant gathered and categorized for its owner about the surrounding people, became a guide into action. The implant pulled everything that its owner could observe about others, hooked to the wearables and available city-tec information, creating a 360 awareness of who an audience is comprised with. And how to manipulate them.\n\nJake Donovan, a politician. Politicians are always dangerous, Randy thought, but this one might be the most dangerous of them all, if he had an illegal SCE.\n\nHe amped the volume up again, trying to discern what drew him into the speech that Donovan was giving to his supporters. What in his character gravitated towards the gibberish that the presidential candidate spouted with relentlessly growing hostility.\n\nRandy listened and listened, and everything Donovan said began to make beautiful, terrible sense. His hand twitched, curling into fist so tightly that the nails dug into his palms.\n\nBut Randy felt no pain anymore. It all had been washed aside - pushed in the deep recesses of his mind, only to be replaced with a zealous, restless fever. He glanced at the other analyst, and swerved to his table, feeling around the heaped papers. Of course. The middle class grew too compliant, too fat on its ignorance. Systemic oppression didn't allow marginalized communities to flourish, being stifled by the over privileged, by college-educated nobodies - like Josh, who for some inexplicable reason, Randy knew, graduated from Yale. This society didn't allow the truely deserving to breath.\n\nThe chief strategic analyst for Garter&Smith smiled as his fingers bumped the letter knife under a pile of reports.\n\nIt all made perfect sense. He was an educated, adult person, and he could form his own opinions about things. He just did.\n\n\n", "The worst part is the smiles.\n\nNot giant, beaming grins, not wild manic laughter, but these calm, understanding smiles. A little twist of the lips, a slight upturn in the corner of the mouth. The kind you wear when something suddenly makes sense, or when you finally understand something you've been struggling with.\n\nAnd it's on every one of their faces.\n\nSubject Epsilon-45 was the latest in a brand of what would later be coined by the media as \"metahumans,\" though at the time we just mostly called them weirdos. People who, without much warning, started to exhibit weird powers. Some as mundane as making a quarter fly across the room, some could hover a few feet. Brought them in for study, to see what was causing this to happen, if there even was an explanation. Top secret, black file, the whole shebang - we were officially off any official records.\n\nEpsilon-45 was the last one we brought in before it all went crashing down. We got reports of several anomalous activities happening in a small town, where people were acting drastically different, and traced the source back to one man. Named Arthur Brown, six foot two, two fourty pounds, thirty five years old. Brown hair, brown eyes, receding hairline, could use a shave. The capture was quick and flawless, as by this point we'd become damn, damn good at our jobs. Heavy duty sedatives certainly helped, though later we'd realize that was the only reason we'd even gotten that far with him.\n\nEpsilon-45 was silent for weeks after capture. Despite all our attempts to figure out what his ability was, what made him special, he just stayed quiet. Ate when we gave him food, slept when the lights were out, didn't resist, but didn't help us either. I was only in the same room with him once, and I got this sense of unease. When he looked at me... it was like he was figuring me out. Turning me inside out like a puzzle, figuring out just what would make me tick. I don't know how all the doctors managed to stay in their with him day after day, but they did their job to try to figure him out.\n\nIt was the end of the day when it happened. When he finally spoke. I was on monitor duty, flicking through the various screens of the facility. Mostly people in cells, a few doctors, the lounge, and the lab. Something caught my eye in the lab, and when I brought it onto the big monitor, I realized it was Epsilon-45. He was talking. The three doctors there, two men and a woman, were just staring at him, as if they couldn't move. He didn't seem angry, or upset, and he didn't seem to even be yelling. Just talking. Like you might over dinner with family. Nothing seemed odd about it, until the doctors walked over to the supply closet, and without so much as a moment's hesitation, each grabbed a scalpel and cut through their necks. They didn't seem to resist, or struggle, they just... did it. And they smiled. Smiled like the finally got it, they finally understood. Understood some greater truth, something that they had no way to fight against.\n\nAfter the triple suicide, the facility went on lockdown. I at least had enough sense to jam that button as hard as I could. But Epsilon-45... he didn't seem to care, or even notice. He got up, and walked out, and the scene repeated itself with every encounter. Guards, security personnel, even staff workers, every encounter with him ended the same way. He'd start talking, and everyone would just... stop. Stop and listen. And at the end of it all, they just... ended it. Knives, guns, a grenade, at one point even a fork from the dining hall... it was horrific to watch. Everyone he spoke to, everyone he encountered... they just killed themselves.\n\nMy thoughts started running at a mile a minute. Virulent suicide? Pheramones, perhaps? Mind control seemed the simplest answer, though there hadn't been any cases of anyone with that level of control, as the survival instinct would usually shake them of the focus needed, or would at least leave them struggling. But there was no struggle against him, and everyone wore that same, awful, god damned smile.\n\nI've been shouting on the speakers for an hour now, trying to get someone, anyone to take him down, to stop him, but no one has. Even from a distance he can control them, even from far away he's able to stop them. I don't know how, but he's getting closer, and I don't know what I can do. All I know is-\n\nWait, he's here, he's at the door! I have the chance, I can stop him!\n\nStop! Hands in the air, don't mo-\n\n...\n\n...\n\n...\n\n...\n\n...\n\nHe's walking outside now. I opened the doors for him, of course. It only made sense, he needed out and it was much easier to just open all the doors than expect him to remember every code. He was so nice, so calm. I can't believe I never understood before. I never grasped just how futile it all was, how inane this entire project was. Every effort was just so damned silly. It's funny, really, how much sense it all makes in the grand scheme of things, to just end it all. I let him out, just like he wanted, just like he deserved. And I'm going to punish myself for my part in this now. It only makes sense, after all. He explained it so simply, I had no way to refute it. Not that I want to. I get it. I understand now. I know. It all makes sense to me. So I can do it, I can punish myself, knowing that I deserve it, and that it's the best way to do this. One bullet, one gun, one brain. It's all so simple.\n\nSo very, very simple.\n\nBrings a smile to my face.", "There's some people that use language for many purposes, some of them use it for good, and there is some of them that only want to see de whole world burn down. \n\nEven if you don't want to, you just have to listen to them. Politicians, Debaters, Scientists or even some of your friends know how to use language to convince you to believe what they are saying. \n\nSometimes, though, there are big personalities born with a talent like that. Fascist leaders, Communist leaders, even some Presidents are capable of making the people they rule over believe blindly in their command, sometimes with horrible results. \n\nHe was just a little kid when he realized that he just needed to sound trustworthy and reliable to convince people of doing what he wants. His name was Ighor, but at some point we forgot it. We followed him without any second thought, just as he were some kind of god, he always got it right. We didn't even get to understand what was going badly when in secondary school one of our classmates opposed to him. He just went with her and talked to her about something we didn't hear. \n\nShe didn't come to school next day, nor any day after that. I overheard a conversation between teachers and I found out the terrible truth. I remembered the terrible face she had when she ran away from Ighor and went home. She was found that same day in her bathtub, bleeding from her wrists and unconscious. She died in the hospital because of the loss of blood. \n\nIn that moment I realized, he was scary, and I didn't want him to do me the same he did with that girl.\n\nI made it into high school and fortunately I was not on the same school Ighor was assisting to, but I felt like I didn't escape him, at all. \n\nA year passed since I got to high school and I'm not sure why I got a bad feeling. As I passed by an electronics shop I saw something on TV. On the news there was a name I recognized, \"Ighor\". I watched the section \"16 year old Ighor Vanovick, National debate Champion representing the country on the world championship\". He was being interviewed and was talking with the same crocodile smile as ever. \n\nI kept walking and tried not to think too much about it. But in the days after that I realized that everyone was talking about him. As if his appearance on TV was the last trigger of a catastrophic chain of events. \n\nBy the time I made it to university Ighor was a complete celebrity and everyone knew about him. Some of them called him \"Master Philosopher\". For the majority of people he was the speaker of truth, and those who opposed them were just socially rejected. \n\nI heard him talking on TV, and I remembered why he was so dangerous. All he said, at some point, even if you firmly disagree with him, starts to make sense. It starts to make beautiful, horrible sense. \n\nI'm one of the few that can tell you this story. Ighor rules a big part of the world by now and I don't know if I can resist his power any longer. I'm even forgetting the name of The Master. I don't want to become a part of his dream. But no one can reject his words. Maybe I should just give up to the raise of a God. ", "\"Revolutionaries.\"\n\nKevin strips, and they check him over with some sort of machine. The stripping probably wasn't necessary; technology is advanced enough that it could probably scan him from a room away. It's an intimidation tactic. Meant to make him uncomfortable, more susceptible to whatever techniques they would use to interrogate him. \n\n\"They've affected each of us in different ways. I know that a great many of you, the people, see me as stoic, unfettered. A rock in the churning river that is our society.\"\n\nIt wasn’t like there was much of a point. Kevin had never been all that much into it, the entire thing, their collective as it were. It was just something he’d felt obligated to participate in, much to the eventual disappointment of the people that knew him. That didn’t mean he didn’t think what he’d done was right, of course, but he didn’t believe in it strongly enough to try and prolong any kind of interrogation. \n\n”As some of you may know, I am not ‘all that’. My parents were taken from me by revolutionaries. Not ones you’d hear about today - we’ve done our best to erase those portions of our history. But ones equally as terrifying as those that walk our streets right now, trying to blend in, before striking out.”\n\nAfter all, they’d broken the strongest of them: Virat, or ‘Murder Charles’; tSu7, the infamous hacker; even Pitau had fallen. Of course, that was all as far as they knew; deductions made from the raids that would inevitably occur within days or weeks of a capture. The only one that hadn’t seemed to crack was Lyon, but that wasn’t much of a surprise.\n\n”I have given my all, every waking hour for years on end now, to eradicate them. Our past failures have become lectures in history classes. We, the Senate, have picked up the torch of our fallen predecessors, and have begun to succeed in this war.”\n\nKevin was no Lyon. He wasn’t strong, mentally or physically. He knew he lacked the sufficient willpower to hold out against the best their ‘government’ would bring to the table. This was all right. He had long made peace with the fact that one day, he might be forced to betray his friends. \n\n”I pray that you, our nation, do not take these words lightly. It cannot be stressed enough that this is a war. The soldiers are not conventional, guns are not used, there is no battlefield, but battles are nonetheless being fought.”\n\nThe examination over, a man grabbed him by the arm. Another room, impossibly colder than the last, with naught but a table in the centre, and two steel chairs. Not quite comfortable, but he sat.\n\n”And today, I can tell you once more that battles are being won.” For the first time, he pauses. A hush has fallen over the assembled crowd.\n\nInterrogation isn’t quite like what he had expected. A man faces him, head covered with some sort of blank mask, and asks questions. That much is expected. It’s the content of the questions that is more surprising.\n\n”Yes, today, I have received confirmation that one of our teams has made a successful raid on a revolutionary safehouse. Inside, they encountered several known and a few before then unknown revolutionaries, all of which were either executed or apprehended.”\n\nWhat is your purpose, in revolting?\n\nWhere did you see yourself in ten years?\n\nHow would you have improved the methodology behind your revolution?\n\nKevin answers, but he finds it difficult to form answers. Why was he revolting? He knew there was a reason, a purpose- he hadn’t gone in blind. But ultimately, he hadn’t spent too much time thinking about it, himself.\n\nThe ‘interrogation’ session ends quickly. He isn’t asked about the location of safe houses, the contents of revolutionary plans, or to denounce his beliefs.\n\n”Among these revolutionaries were names such as Kyle Dracus, better known - infamously, I suppose - as three-two-two dot Euler’s. He has been apprehended.”\n\nAnother room. Another person at the table - he recognizes the face. Lyon, or Marcus Broadwell, a former leader. Known for being the key factor in the revolution’s admittedly limited successes, five years back.\n\n”Albert Redson, or IonS, apprehended.”\n\n“Join us, or we kill him.” A guard, standing behind Kevin. The question isn’t directed at him.\n\nMarcus seems to ponder this. “I do not see the point in these threats. Do you not recognize the futility behind them?”\n\nHe tries to continue, no doubt segueing into some other topic. They gag him. \n\nKevin feels something cold and hard pressed against the back of his head.\n\n”And Kevin Platson, Bak3r, unfortunately killed in self-defence.”\n\n---\n\nmore stories daily on r/forricide" ]	5
	[WP] The more ridiculous a person's name is, the more powerful they are. You are the only name changer in the galaxy and you are tasked to save the universe from a grave danger...	[ "He was a nobody. A John Smith. Expendable. Didn't even have powers.\n\nThey brought him to me, bound and shackled. He was afraid- I could see it- but he also recognised me.\n\nI flicked through his files, pen in my hand, and looked up at him.\n\n\"John Smith.\"\n\n\"Namechanger.\"\n\n\"You have been selected for the duty of saving the universe. You will be the one to fly out and face Sxnargglfart McHugginpuff the Fluffy Frthdong.\"\n\nThe name no longer elicited a snigger from anyone in the room. We all knew the damage that kind of ridiculousness could fuel.\n\nJohn Smith spoke. \"You can change my name, Namechanger. You can grant me powers. But... there can't be a more ridiculous name. Snartiblartfast couldn't fight him. Tiggletubs Hicktripper couldn't beat him. Even the Mighty Gnubbleupagus Thrippitus Stenchgator couldn't win the fight.\"\n\n\"I know that, John Smith. But there are other ways to create ridiculousness.\"\n\nHe looked at me, curious.\n\n\"I'm sorry for this John. You probably won't survive the fight. But you will win it.\"\n\n\"How? I'm just a nobody.\"\n\nI said nothing, but leaned over and wrote two words on his file.\n\n\"It is exactly for that reason that you can succeed. Arise. I name thee John Smith the Saviour.\"\n\n\"But that name isn't ridiculous at all. It's practically noble.\"\n\n\"Exactly. The name should grant no powers. It's pitiful. Serious.\"\n\nHe realised what I was getting at, and smiled grimly.\n\n\"It is impossible to expect you to live up to your title. To send one with such a name in to such a fight can only be described as...?\"\n\n\"Ridiculous.\"" ]	1
Assume for a moment a world very much like our own. Except for the fact that spiders can grow to 12 feet in length, breed prodigiously, are expert at hiding and often attack in swarms. Have fun!	[WP] Describe a typical daily outing – your commute to work, taking the kids to school, perhaps a trip to the grocery store. And, oh yes – don’t forget that your world is plagued with enormous predatory spiders.	[ "Diary Entry #311 \n\nNot sure how the kids are going to handle it today. Sometimes I wish I've never brought them to this world. But they are the light of my life, but wouldn't I rather live in the dark then see them suffer all this? Death in every corner. It comes out jumping at them in different shapes and forms. The poison they leave everywhere. Their weird claws hacking at us at the least expected moments. And the deadly projectile they launch out of God knows what. How could they be so cruel? They are just kids. But I think we're winning the war. They are taking more casualties everyday. We're faster now and more familiar with their behavior and deadly tricks. I will be even faster and study them even more. For my babies. I will not let any harm get to them. Not once. Not ever. I will be fierce and as cruel as it would take to protect them. Till I lose the last of my eight limbs.", "\"You did what, honey?\" \n \nI stared in bewilderment as my four-year-old was all giddy and hugging the spider and stroking it and... well, you know, still being alive. That's more than I can say about her fourth pet rabbit she left unattended this morning. \n \n\"Can I keep him? He's so fluffy!\" \n \nAs she said that, she climbed on top and it was walking rounds with her. I couldn't believe my eyes. Judging from the sound of breaking glass behind me, my wife couldn't either. \n \n\"I... I'm going to have to talk with your mother about this. But honey... You still haven't told us what happened to... Mister Leggy?\" \n \nWhile she stroked the spider she beamed. \"Well, I was at the playground, and Betsy came with me on the merry go round, and then she ran away because Tim and Peter and Sean from the other block came in and you know that they always bully Betsy right? And they were dragging Mister Leggy along and he looked so sad and hurt so I grabbed the nearest stick and I beat them away and made sure that Mister Leggy was all fine but then he followed me and he's so fluffy!\" \n \nApparently the spider had decided this would be a good moment to just... lie down. And it apparently was all fine with my youngest just stroking him and hugging and... Ugh. Children. Madeleine had apparently recovered from the shock and held up position behind me. \n \n\"I've never seen her so happy with an animal like this,\" she whispered in my ear. That was true: every bird, rabbit or cat either ran away or ended up as food for the spiders because she literally just couldn't be bothered. I slowly nodded. I'm afraid I'm going to regret this decision, but... \n \n\"Honey... If it doesn't have any... tags? Or something? If you promise to take good care of it?\" She beamed even brighter and nodded feverishly. \"I promise mommy and daddy!\" She darted away and the spider followed. Well, that's going to be an interesting visit to the vet... \n \nWhen I hammered a brand new sign onto the front gate of the lawn the next morning, Larry had just picked up his newspaper. \"Mornin' Alex! Funny sign you got there!\" I smiled and just nodded. \"Beware of Spider\" kind of lost its meaning when there were tons everywhere anyway...", "The alarm went off at 7, and I jumped right out of bed. No hitting the snooze alarm for another twenty minutes this morning. Thin slices of sunlight came filtering in through the armored shutters of the window, and after a brief check of the security cameras, I threw them completely open. Nothing wakes me up better than a good blast of sun in the morning, even if it was a little risky.\n\nI showered and shaved in record time, and was furiously brushing my teeth when my wife came staggering into the bathroom. “Calm down, honey,” she said with a kiss on the shoulder. “The presentation is going to be fine. You’ve been working on this for months.”\n\n“I know,” I managed to say through a mouthful of foamy toothpaste. Except I wasn’t so sure it would be fine. The butterflies in my stomach felt more like a churning blender full of rocks, and as I rehearsed the presentation in my mind I kept forgetting key parts of it. But I couldn’t tell her that, so I just spit out my toothpaste. “I just want to make sure I get there on time. There was a swarm warning on the news yesterday.” \n\n“Relax,” she said. “That nest was found in Gerristown, like thirty miles away.”\n\n“Thirty miles isn’t that far,” I told her as I moved back into the bedroom and began packing everything up. I had a whole checklist in my mind for what I needed. Laptop, printed hand-outs, the financial spreadsheets... one by one I put everything in, then glanced around the room to make sure I hadn't forgotten something. “You know they can move up to fifty miles in a night.”\n\nShe rolled her eyes. “They were spinning webs, honey. They were settling in, not migrating again. And besides, the exterminator crews were on their way. Those bugs are long gone by now.” She gave an exaggerated yawn. “Can we talk about this after coffee?”\n\nI checked my watch. “No time. I’ll have to take mine to go.” With a hot thermos full of coffee in hand, I headed to the garage and disengaged the door. The crackling electricity of the security system fell silent for just a moment before the motor whirred to life. The car dinged as I climbed in, reminding me to put on my seatbelt and check the garage exit for any webs. But it was all clear, and I was on the highway just a few minutes later.\n\n----\n\n“What now?” I growled to myself as I came around a corner and found myself screeching to a halt in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Red lights along the wall began flashing, and I turned my radio to the emergency frequency. \n\n“Level 3 Spider Swarm reported on Highway 19, mile marker 28.” Glancing out the window at the placard along the defense wall, I could see that I had just passed marker 27. “Walls are breached and an unknown number of spiders managed to climb in. Exterminators are responding. If you are in a shielded car, please activate defenses and stay put. Otherwise, please make your way to safety as soon as possible.”\n\n“God damn it.” I put it in park, rolled up the windows, and turned on the car’s protective systems. Little prods all along the frame began to crackle with blue electricity that would zap anything that came too close. “Just what I needed.” At least I’d budgeted time into my schedule for this. As long as it was cleared up within the next half hour, I should have no problem. The spiders usually scurry off at the first sign of a helicopter anyway. \n\nSure enough, the thwacking sounds of the exterminator choppers reverberated off the walls around me and one of them swooped in low overhead, right over my car. I could see them circling over an area just around the next bend, dropping cannisters of bug spray through the mesh ceiling that enclosed the highway. A greenish haze appeared, and I caught my first sight of the spiders scrambling along the walls and even hanging upside down on the roof, trying to get away. It looked like one managed to gnaw a hole through the wire, and the rest ran right back into the hills beyond the highway. But one of them apparently couldn’t make it through and instead came running in my direction. Its long, skinny, black legs nimbly stepped over cars and dodged the electrical charges that lashed out from all of the defense systems. It even came close enough that I could see its arm-length mandibles gnashing in rage as it looked for some escape. It scampered onto the hood of my car, screeching with pain as it was electrified, then disappeared out of view around the corner behind me. \n\nIt was just a matter of minutes before traffic was back in motion. Stupid rubber-neckers gawked at the tangled pile of legs and thoraxes that the exterminators had shoved into one lane and were preparing to burn. Fire was the best way to make sure that they were truly dead, but no one liked to use it on a still-mobile spider for fear of sparking a huge forest fire or something. I honked my horn, trying to get those idiots to focus on driving. “What, you’ve never seen a fucking spider before?” I shouted at them as I hammered on the horn.\n\nI pulled into the office parking lot at 8:56. Thank fucking god. I ran into the lobby and dashed up the stairs with my tie swinging wildly in front of me. But I made it to the conference room by 8:59, with just enough time to smooth my hair and catch my breath.\n\nInside, the partners were already waiting. Their conversation ceased as I entered, and I tried ot flash a confident smile. The lights were dimmed and the projector was already set up for me. “Gentlemen,” I said, shaking each one’s hand. “Thank you so much for coming. I’m really excited about this project, and I think you will be too. Just as soon as you see….”\n\nThe presentation. I realized that in my rush to make it to the office, I’d forgotten my bag (with my laptop and all of the handouts) at home.\n" ]	3
	[WP] A super-villain is incredibly unlucky. All of his plans for destruction and chaos have ended up helping out society quite a bit. This has happened enough times that people are beginning to regard him as a hero.	[ "\"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, we have come together today to honor Professor Eval for his tireless efforts to improve the city!\" \n\nThe crowd erupts in applause and cheers of \"We love you Professor!\". Viry Eval hung his head in shame. \n\n\"Who could forget the time he selfishly cleansed the city of every disease and virus known to man!? Or the time he saved the elementary school from burning down!? Countless times has he rescued stray animals off the streets!\"\n\nViry sighed. His chemical was supposed to make all the diseases stronger but they weren't developed enough to handle that kind of growth and died instead. The elementary school is right next to Town Hall, he didn't know it was on fire when he inaccurately fired an oxygen eating agent towards city officials. Those strays? He needed test subjects! \n\n\"So in honor of all your good deeds...\" Viry vomited a little in his mouth. \"...I'd like to honor you with a key to our city walls! We know we'll be much safer if you control the epic walls keeping our city safe from the eaters!\"\n\n\"Perfect!\" Viry thought as he accepted the key. \"I'll open the gate and distract the guards, allowing the eaters to devour everyone!\"\n\nOutside the walls, troops made camp preparing for the next day. \n\n\"Sir, we've detected life inside! There's a whole town in there, the must not know the eaters are gone! But the wall is impenetrable, we can't find a way to tell them.\"\n\n\"Give it time private, that gate had got to open eventually.\"" ]	1
	[WP] She sat alone at a table set for two.	[ "It's Valentines Day, I can write fluff if I want to, darnit! Also orange roses can symbolize passion, just for the record.\n______________________________\n\nShe sat alone at a table set for two, and I watched her from around my boyfriend's shoulder. When she left, I followed, pulled by some irresistible curiosity. He didn't even look up from his phone when I told him I'd be right back.\n\nShe'd bought a ticket to the first flight she found. It just happened to be here. Maybe it was fate, she laughed. She'd seen me in the restaurant. My eyes didn't have any light in them and she couldn't stand to see someone like that. \n\nThere was something magnetic about her, crooked nose and scarred cheeks and all. We were walking past the same monuments I'd seen a day ago with my boyfriend, but they had more details than I remembered. We ducked down alleys I hadn't seen before, bought pastries that looked better than they tasted, and laughed at ourselves trying on ugly hats. She was like watercolor, bleeding life into the old grey stones and turning the racket of people and cars into a wordless song. I wasn't sure why my heart pounded when she closed my hand around a single orange rose. \n\nI didn't realize it was dark until we stood on a bridge, the city twinkling on the water. She was beautiful like that, looking out over the river with golden light on her face. My hand covered hers on the railing and she turned, but the words I was trying to say didn't come. There was so little space between us that I could feel her breath, and then there was none and I could feel her lips. For one heartbeat, the tourists and the city held still. Then she was gone, swept up in the crowd, one orange rose and the lights in my eyes the only evidence that she had ever been there.", "She looked at her watch, as though she were waiting for someone, but she knew deep down no one was coming. She made these reservations every year, on the anniversary of the time they first met, when she thought 'he's the one'. The first time she met him at this restaurant, she knew she had met her soulmate, was hopeful he felt the same way, and after six months when he proposed, she finally believed it was love at first sight.\nHe was driving home one night, it was clear, the roads were dry, but the road conditions don't matter when someone has been drinking. It only took a second for him to be taken from her.\nEvery year on the anniversary of their first meeting, she makes a reservation at this restaurant, hoping to relive that moment, when love at first sight was so close, but now knowing it is so far away.", "She sat alone at a table set for two\n\nShowing up for this dinner was the least he could do\n\nShe had spent weeks planning, cooking, dreaming\n\nNow she sat alone, dreading, weeping\n\n\nShe checked her phone for a text, nothing\n\nShe checked facebook, he was active, something\n\n\"where are you?\" she sent him in it\n\nNo notification of being seen for beyond 40 minutes\n\n\"Is this the end?\" She thought alone\n\nFinally came in a call on the phone\n\n\"Baby where are you\" she shrieked as she cried\n\nIt was not him, but a cop. He had just died\n\n\n\"He was over the speed limit, he was in a rush\n\nThe semi hit him just as fast, the whole car, crushed\n\nIf you could come down to identify the body\"\n\nShe hung up the phone, threw up in the potty\n\n\nShe now sat alone at a table for two\n\nThe ring on her hand gleamed blue\n\nRegretting every fight, and labeling him a sinner\n\nShe'd do anything to just have one last dinner\n", "Your eyes glance forlornly at the pulsing light of your cell phone clock. Six thirty eight. A week ago you would have been angry, or at least frustrated, but now the numbers bring on only emptiness. You feel everyone's eyes on you at once. Oh, what you wouldn't give to be a part of one of those little duos of dining dead right now. Ungrateful, all of them. You two's time in here was some of the best you spent together, sat at this little table quietly smiling your way through dinner. You always gazed so lovingly at him, and he at you.\n\nIt's different, now. You couldn't help coming back to your old rendezvous, ordering food at the old time- you even wore the same red sundress. You're a creature of habit, he would always say. In a way you're honoring his memory. So the waiter brings your food, and your mind drifts to the past. To when you were kids. To when he picked you flowers, and danced with you under the great firs by the old water tower. To whispered promises. All your secrets you entrusted in your confidant, and he in you. Life was lovely. Simple.\n\nYou finish your meal and your thoughts jerk forward in time. To last month. To finding bus tickets in his journal. You'd snooped, it was only your nature. He discovered you and you broke down. He packed a suitcase as you cried at the foot of his bed. Better to have loved and lost, you thought to yourself that night. Better yet to be loved forever." ]	4
	[WP] Write a story about death and destruction. In a good way.	[ "The soft ground rose to claim my body, blood sputtering out of the hole in my neck. I knew I had hit the carpet of leaves and moss, but my dimming senses couldn't register the fall. Darkness was claiming what was rightfully his. Death was coming to embrace me.\n\nKaylee had positioned the knife expertly, despite her trembling hands. I had cupped them, gentling her shaking and whispering that everything would be alright. She sobbed and bit back those little hiccups of fear and trepidation, long enough to close off her emotions and let her years of practice of assassination guide her long, delicate dagger into my throat, plunging from front to back.\n\nI couldn't ask more from her, from any of my companions as the city crumbled in the distance. Destruction had followed us from the highlands, across the kingdom and back. It was a righteous fury, one that was now claiming the Shadow Lords and their sorrowful ilk of debased elven followers.\n\nThe crusade of short-lived men and rugged dwarves had crashed the gates of the vine choked stockades of my people. Twenty thousand souls were now either in flight, fighting desperately for their lives, or being immolated by purifying magicks or pitched tar. Either way, our small band had achieved our aim. We had brought ruin to our decaying civilization.\n\nTears? Did I feel tears running down my face in my final moments? I could faintly hear Kaylee's wails, muffled as if by a vast ocean of water. My final thoughts wound down the path we had walked with a handful of others. We started as orphans all, bereft of parental nurture and instead broken and rebuild by the Shadow Lords to be perfect killing machines.\n\nDecades of murdering and skulking had dulled our emotions, but the defining trait we all shared was the sense of how wrong this life of blood had felt. It was hard to trust that others shared these feelings, but if not anything, elven lives were measured by thousands of seasons. Over time, five was the number I could trust, and six was the number as we set in motion our clandestine plan to topple the order that had taken our childhood and morphed it into something unspeakable.\n\nBy the time we had murdered our way through the other race's most distinguished lords, the planted evidence we left behind was enough to set ablaze the fever that caused countless souls to march far from their homelands and burn a path through ours. It wasn't an easy retreat for the six of us, for we had been labeled traitors by our kin and murderers by our pursuers. Still, as we were taken down one by one, we fed the humans and dwarven crusaders our secret paths and bases, slowly unraveling the Shadow Lords and their court of murderers.\n\nI knew some had escaped, but the wholesale genocide of our evil race had finally reached its crescendo, the final two members of our little troupe trapped between what remained of our homeland and those who had sought vengeance against them. We played our final trump card, looking to bereft all sides from claiming the last tally against us.\n\nI prayed Kaylee would follow me soon, because it would sure be a lonely visit if I visited Death alone.\n\nIt was my last thought as the void utterly consumed me." ]	1
Aka fun fact: Cerberus derives from the Greek word Kerberos which in some other language means spotted. Yes, Cerberus is named Spot.	[WP] You adopt a stray dog and name him Spot. You only realize your error when Hades comes and asks you to return Cerberus.	[ "I adopted a dog named Spot.\n\nAt once, Hades appeared on the dot.\n\nScreaming, enraged, he demands that \"Spot\" would be returned to him at once!\n\nOr I will be damned in hell for months, and months!\n\nSpot will forever be missed,\n\nBut now I stand in divine bliss, \n\nFor escaping the wrathe of Hades,\n\nI hope he remembered my farewell kiss.\n \n", "For what it was worth the day started off quite normal.\n\nLike most days I had taken my morning coffee, eaten breakfast and walked my dog. \nHowever it was then I felt it.\n \nThe ground began to shudder. I slipped falling down. \n\nEarthquake, was my first thought as a crack appeared in front of me. It began to widen tearing down bins. \n\nThat was when I heard it. \n\n\"FOOLISH MORTAL\", a voice seemed to boom all around me, \"YOU HAVE DISOBEYED THE WILL OF THE GODS. YOU WILL GIVE ME BACK CERBERUS AND I WILL MAKE YOUR DEATH AND PUNISHMENT LESS PAINFUL\". \n\nSurprised I yelled out the most heroic answer:\n\n\"What!?\"\n\n\"MORTAL IT APPEARS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND ME. I SAID YOU SHOULD GIVE ME BACK MY HELL HOUND AND YOU WILL HAVE A LESSER PUNISHMENT. IF NOT YOU WILL FACE THE WRATH OF HADES.\" \n\n\"You're Hades? So the Greek gods-\"\n\n\"ENOUGH\" ,Hades bellowed, \"THAT DOG YOU HAVE THERE IS MINE!\"\n\n\"What?! But Cerberus has three heads! How could this be-\"\n\n\"SILENCE. YOU ARE TRYING TO TRICK ME. YOU STOLE HIM WITH THE KNOWLEDGE THAT HE APPEARS LIKE THIS IN THE MORTAL REALM. SINCE I SEE NO OTHER WAY TO CONVINCE YOU MORTAL. I GIVE YOU THREE SECONDS TO RUN\"\n\nI was frozen to the spot, shocked and confused. \n\n\"THREE\"\n\nIt was completely impossible there was no way it could be possible. \n\n\"TWO\"\n\nThen again it might be better for me to run.\n\n\"ONE\"\n\nQuickly I turned and ran as fast as I could. \n\n\"ZERO\"\n\nI screamed as a giant demonic hand reached out of the crack and dragged me down.", "\"You make a convincing argument,\" I said plainly as I pet Spot on the leftmost of his three heads, \"But Spot likes it here. I'm taking good care of him.\"\n\nThe massive figure in my front yard bellowed back to me \"I am Hades, child of the Titans Cronus and Rhea, God of the underworld. I am not making an argument. I am here demanding the return of Cerberus... and for the final time, stop calling the guardian of the gates of the Underworld Spot.\"\n\nI mulled Hades' request for a brief moment as all three of Cerberus' mouths began to drench me in slobber.\n\n\"Come on, just look how happy he is!\" I laughed \"Who's the best puppy? You are spot! And so are you Spot! And especially you, Spot!\"\n\n\"ENOUGH,\" Hades yelled with an Earth shaking force that forced Spot to shudder \" YOU WILL RETURN MY HOUND.\"\n\n\"Honestly I don't really think it's up to either of us at this point.\" I said, \"Spot doesn't want to leave, and besides, we're going to the Dog Park tomorrow to visit Sabrina. That's his girlfriend.\"\n\n\"The Hell Hound does not have a Girlfriend.\" Hades hissed.\n\nI smiled back \"Sure he does! Sabrina is my neighbors Shih-Tzu, she's adorable and can't get enough of Spot.\"\n\nI pulled my phone out off my pocket and showed the God of the Underworld a picture of Sabrina, dwarfed by Spot^3 , playing at the dog park. \"Aren't they just adorable?\"\n\nHades' stone demeanor seemed to shift \"I suppose they are... I guess you really are happy here, huh Cerber... Spot?\"\n\nSpot's heads nodded in agreement.\n\n\"Then I have but one more dema... request,\" Hades said, his inflection nearly sorrowful, \"Can I come with you to the dog park tomorrow?\"" ]	3
	[WP] New superheroes and supervillains are emerging every day. The city is getting tired of all the destruction.	[ "Boom!\n\nAnother explosion. The city has practically been levelled. We're all bored of watching people perform 'awesome' super moves above our heads. I've not been to work for three weeks and can't even leave the house due to the rubble. Either everyone is a supervillain or hero in this city, or we only have two.\ntime skip 12 hours\nOh god, I woke up and stood up a little too fast. In fact, I appear to have the exact same skillset as Superman. I can at least get out of the house now. I get a random latex mankini in my wardrobe, which must be my superhero outfit. I am apparently Chillyman as I am always going to be cold. I walk outside and find my 'nemesis,' he calls himself 'Chilliman' as he has the powers of a radioactive chilli pepper. He is wearing as much as he can.\nOh well, I guess it's my turn to start destroying the city." ]	1
	[WP] When you're 10 your parents tell you the truth about Santa. When you're 40 they tell you the truth about God.	[ "\"...I mean...you figured out Santa before we told you so we thought you'd figure out this.\"\n\n\"Mom we didn't attend school based around Santa, we didn't go to Santa church!\"\n\n\"Hey your father and I were only 20 when you were born, we didn't find out ourselves until you were in college.\"\n\n\"Wait you didn't know?\"\n\n\"No one knows until they're definitely old enough to have developed a proper moral compass. They passed it into law more then 100 years ago, humans weren't doing so well on their own.\"\n\n\"Well if it's the law...Wait it's a law? Thank God I don't....have kids...now who do I thank if there's no god?\"\n\n\"...whoever is responsible for the action?\"\n\n\"Thank my ovaries I don't have kids? This is just a lot to take in. Wait...the pastors over 40, I was so convinced he believed...\"\n\n\"Oh honey he's just crazy.\"", "My dad was in the hospital and the situation was getting a bit stressful for my wife and I. We had been paying for their bills and my wife had to quit her job so that someone would be there for all the tests and to fill out all the consent forms, and when she was not there, she was at the school getting Grady after track. Grady was expecting a scholarship much like the one his sister got, so we couldn't pass up that opportunity. I sure as hell don't want to pay that much for his tuition.\n\nAnyway, one weekend, I think it was the weekend before last, I was talking to my Dad about how Grady is looking good on getting that scholarship and I said something like, \"I hope to God that he can pull it off,\" and my dad just folded up his hands and stared at the foot of his bed. I pulled off the chickens from his bed and he said, \"What kind of a hospital is this, son?\" I was a bit confused but I took a quick at the small room and stared at his heart monitor and IV, wondering if they were working correctly. I said, \"What do you mean, dad?\" He let his hands slide off his body in exasperation and made a motion with his head at the chicken pecking the biohazard symbol on the trash bin. I didn't know what he was talking about so all I could do was shrug my shoulders and give him a rude look.\n\nHe grabbed his bedpan and threw it at the chicken, but it dodged the urine soaked missile and fluttered to the small counter top and started to pull out tongue depressors and cotton balls out of the clear jars. \"Why the hell is there a chicken in my room?!\" I know I shouldn't have but I started yelling, I couldn't take it. All the stress was eating me up and my dad was just too much right now. I screamed, \"This chicken is for you dad! You just don't understand modern medicine! At ALL!! The chicken is here to absorb all the evil spirits that are around you! And when it is done, they cut the head off the chicken and set it on fire, then they shoot it out of a cannon into the sun, thats where Satan's pee-pee goes!\"\n\nMy dad looked for something to hit me with, but all he had was the pillow he was laying on. \"There is no god, because if there were one, he would have never let you be born.\" The chicken began to make frantic noises and soon it fell off the counter and convulsed on the floor. Some of its feathers came loose and floated around the room. \"You killed it with your evil, dad. Good job.\"" ]	2
	[WP] There is an actual elephant in the room. No one wants to talk about it.	[ "George shifted: the trunk was hovering over his cup of coffee.\n\n\"Is it just me, or does this coffee have a rather curious aroma to it?\"\n\nHe looked straight in the direction of Jane, who was sitting across the room. The others followed suit.\n\n\"Yeah, George you have an interesting taste in coffee.\"\n\nThe tail kept brushing over her face and messing up her hair. Facing a particularly large derriere, she sat unperturbed, listening intently to George.\n\n\"I like to get pretty experimental at Starbucks, Jane. Sometimes there's new blends that sound promising, so I treat my office to it. Of course I'm sitting right by the occasional asshole sometimes, and he ruins the mood. He just wants to shit all over you and he finds it fun.\"\n\nJason, sitting beside Jane, responded, \"Oh I totally get that, it's like he wants to fuck with you. The kind of guy who in elementary school would try to tickle you with a feather like a little shit.\"\n\n\"Guilty as charged!\" butted in Danny, who was right by George. \"But back to the topic, this is a marvelous blend. It has such an earthy taste.\"\n\n\"You could say it was ground recently!\" exclaimed George as he burst into laughter. \"Nice pun, George,\" Danny responded.\n\nJason looked at Jane. \"But this sure is... an interesting get-together, don't you think?\" \"It sure is very well set-up, there's a certain ambience and an atmosphere.\"\n\nGeorge thanked her for the compliment, and stood up. \"I think I need to talk about something that I feel I've been avoiding for a while today.\" The other three in the room bent forward in anticipation.\n\n\"I bought new lampshades today!\"\n\n(alternative ending:)\n\n\"That's actually Black Ivory coffee!\"", "So here we were, another day in science class doing more boring plant reproduction work. I mean, come on, at least make it interesting by making it human reproduction. I sneaked a glance at the hulking grey mass in the back of the room. Surprisingly, nobody yet had thought to mention the five-ton African elephant in the corner of the room. I didn't want to be the first. \n\n\"Now, we need to cover the elephant in the room...\" droned the teacher.\n\nI almost got excited, but she just droned on and on about mammalian reproduction. Science cleaning staff came and went, but simply squeezed past the elephant instead of having it removed. It trumpeted, but was ignored. Finally, a horrible smell came about the classroom. A large brown pile had appeared on the old hardwood floor. This snapped the teacher, who contacted the head and had us moved from the lab and the elephant removed. To this day, nobody has ever mentioned the elephant or theorised about how it got in, considering the had to knock down an entire wall to get it back out." ]	2
	[WP] You were cursed to suffer through inconvenience every day. This curse ends up saving your life.	[ "(Part 1)\n\n\"Suffer. Suffer!\" He sat upon the beach, blind as the day his father left. He crushed a small clean and boney monkey's skull to dust as he began to laugh. \"Haha! Hahahahahahaha! HAHAHAHAHA!\"\n\nThe cackling of the sitting priest faded as the young man ran for town, scared he made his way back to the hotel.\n\nFive days later, it's New Years's Eve, 2006.\n\n\"Maybe, we can leave.\" The young man looked at his watch, \"We could just rent a car. I mean, how far is it to New York anyway?! Really?\"\n\n\"It's alright, Bobby.\" She placed her hand on his chest, \"Just chillax, okay. In all honesty, who misses out on New Years on Bourbon Street? We missed the flight, our train got cancelled, you broke your arm, but we just have to wait till tomorrow when your Dad sends the money. We'll get home, don't worry. Okay?\" She pulled the mask over his eyes, and adjusted his shirt, one side was rolled up to let the cast out.\n\nThe street was loud, so he walked into a bar. Everyone looked so happy to be alive. Plus, the idea of a 'New Year' was ringing in everyone's minds. The idea of a restart, new beginnings, or a rebirth. It felt like everyone could be anything, again. Although, not him. Sometimes the most powerful of suffering comes from self infliction, your choices make you.\n\nHe opens his Razr phone and calls a number and after a few rings he says, \"Checking.\" He looks back out towards the street from the bar.\n\n\"Sir, you like a drink?\" A light skinned fella comes up with a suit vest and tie. Bobby shakes his head, \"Alright, let me know.\" \n\nHe pulls out a card and says a few numbers, a voice comes back on and says, \"13 million, 6 hundred fifty three thousand, 1 hundred and ninety five dollars, and ninety cents.\" He smiles and looks back at his cast, the smile quickly fades. He can't help but think of the beach.\n\n\"Hey babe, I lost you there. Don't leave me.\" His wife walks in with her black skirt, red top, and pin up hair style. She made it work and her make up complimented her jewelry down to her clothes. \"We should go down to loft deck. People will be piling in trying to get a good view of the fire work show.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but can't we just leave? I mean, I could rent a car. I could pull a few..\" She interrupts him, tired of him bringing it up for the past three days.\n\n\"Stop it, I'm tired of hearing about this.\" He places her hand on his face, and leans in for a kiss, which he obliges. \"Let's just enjoy the New Year's party, okay?\"\n\nAs she turns and pulls him along he says, \"but I don't want to go home...\"\n\nThey arrive at their VIP area balcony outlooking the street, and go up to their table on second floor. Everyone was happy, smiling, and ready to greet the New Year. Bobby sat down and his wife ordered his favorite: Scotch with one rock and a spritz of lime. He looks out to everyone singing and dancing to the music, a singer is on stage leading. \n\n\"Babe? Where are you?\" She places her hand on his cast, \"Come back down to me! Haha, Hello?\" She moves her hand down to his crotch and rubs him.\n\n\"Hey!\" He looks at her, \"I am here, sorry.\" He's thinking about leaving her, he knows that he could get a ride out to a enterprise and rent a car. Before he knows he could be on a ship or plane going towards the islands or even further, he has his passport all he has to do is get to the hotel. She's talking about getting a couple of more drinks and going down into the crowd, but he could care less.\n\nWhile sitting upon the balcony looking out he notices on the far corner of a street, there is a couple he notices making out in a alleyway. He can't really see but the woman seems to have her hands all over him. Bobby focuses back on his girlfriend, \"Babe\", she says, \"Can I go over my calories today? I want to try that Beignet! Ohh, they serve it warm with Ice cream!\" \n\n\"Yeah,\" he says looking at her, he knew he couldn't leave her! This money is stressing him out to the point where he is thinking about leaving the woman he loves the most. \"Babe, I have to tell you something! It's bad, but it could be good, for us!\"\n\n\"Yeah! Right here,\" He already hailed a waitress, \"She's coming over, what where you saying, baby?\"\n\nHe thinking for a moment and looks back at the couple making out on the street, there is nothing here but a red stain on the wall and a large of piece of clothing. \"Hey! Babe, look! Do you see that?!\"\n\n\"Yeah, with chocolate, and a couple of more drinks? Amazing! Thank you!\" She finished with the waitress, and Bobby began walking towards the railing of the VIP deck. \n\n\"Jeannie? I think we should leave.\" He says as he walks away.\n\nHe looks around the crowd, and there are people fighting in pockets. He notices a couple of police officers clubbing a woman off their horse as she latches on it's neck blood is pouring out on her dress. He looks around the crowd and not everyone notices what is happening, yet. He sees a man attacking another, he grabs a pot near by and tosses it out towards them. It hits one man, and the crazed one leaps on top of him biting his body. All he could think is, 'oh shit'.\n\nHis girlfriend was already sampling her beignet a la mode, he was frightened but noticed how cute she looked holding her spoon playing with her food. He hurried back to her and tried to remain calm.\n\n\"Yum! This is so delicious, try it baby!\" She scooped some and tried to feed him.\n\n\"Wait, babe. I honestly need.. Babe..\" She wasn't going to put it down until he tried it. \"Okay, here let's have it.\"\n\nHe tasted it and actually it was amazing. Her face made this cute gesture, and she looked back down towards her desert.\n\n\"People are beginning to fight in the streets.\" He blurted out and sat still. She stopped and looked up at him, \"People down in the streets, are biting one another. They are fighting! I'm scared, and we should leave before we get tied up in..\"\n\nA woman screams in the building, his girlfriend stands up and walks towards the balcony railing, more shouting and things began to break. He watched her from the table and a chair flew up in the air and back down, which signaled he should retrieve her. \n\n\"Babe, that woman bit the bartender's cheek off! BABE! THAT...\" She was going through shock already, he pulled her over to the wall and placed his hands on her cheeks. \"Oh my god, what's happening?\"\n\nHe shook her and she reset, \"We need to get back to the hotel. We can leave, should we leave?\"\n\nIt took her a moment, but she could only hear the screams after his question, \"Yeah..\" She finally said, \"Let's go.\"\n\nHe smiled and looked for an emergency exit.\n\nThe streets were havoc, after anyone was bitten they would begin to convulse, when a crowd of them would surround someone they would tear them apart and gnaw on the pieces they would hold. He held his girlfriend's hand and ran through the streets with her, one of them chased them to a toy shop but his girlfriend hit it with crate and closed the door.\n\n\"Babe, let's just stay here for the night, maybe the police will get control over night.\" She leaned up against the wall.\n\n\"No, we need to keep going. They are too fast, the police might get control but they are to fast to bunker down for. Come on, look around see if you can find a weapon.\" He walks around for a moment and picks up a bat, there is a monkey on it, and the bad had a name: 'Monkey Tail'. It was made for a young adult, he slammed it against the desk and his girlfriend jumped!\n\n\"OH FUCK!\" She shouted. She walked towards him in the dimly lit shop, \"Can we go now? Let's go.\"\n\n(Continued in part 2)", " The police sirens jolted John out of his trance. He had been following a burly truck through the countryside and a sleepy town. The speedometer read 50 miles per hour, just five above a sign that just flew by. Begrudgingly, John pulled over beside a cornfield. The black truck revved its engine and tore off into the night. \n\tA flashlight shone in through the lowered window, searing John’s eyes. The officer spoke smugly, “Why don’t you have your light on, young man? Are you trying to hide something?” John replied quietly “No, sir.” The light probed through the car’s interior. “Well young man, you’ve got to be more cognizant of the limits around here. You city folks never pay attention. Hopefully this ticket here’ll straighten you out.”\n\tJohn fought hard to contain his rage. Just a half hour ago, he had to stop to fix a flat tire. The man at the gas station took forever to coax his rickety air-compressor into action. A simple task became a nuisance that added an hour to his trip. John muttered under his breath, “why does this always happen to me?”\n\tWith yet another ticket piled in his glove box, John coaxed his car back onto the paved highway. The dark, lonely road was flanked on either side with tall corn. His headlights shone directly down the silent alley as he drove on.\n\tSeveral miles flew by. The car’s radio, formerly belting out lively country music, turned to static. The signal was lost yet again. John muttered curses under his breath and shut the radio off. Now there was nothing to distract him from the eerie country road. Corn pressed in uncomfortably on either side. Darkness filled the cracks to manifest oppressive walls…closing in.\nFar ahead, John’s headlights caught a gleaming object. It was the truck that got away earlier! As John pulled closer, he saw that the car’s engine was still on. A wave of uneasiness washed over him when he saw that no one was in the car. His foot pressed down on the brake as he approached the scene. \n\tThe driver’s window was smashed. Glass was sprinkled on the road along with droplets of blood. Before he could even react to the horror before him, John jolted at the sound of a gunshot to his left. \n\tThere was a clearing in the cornfield. Two figures could be made out, dressed solidly in black. One was holding a pistol at the height of a formerly kneeling person’s head. Their hooded faces turned sharply to John: the sole witness of their crime.\n\tHis foot slammed on the accelerator and lurched forward. In his peripheral vision, he could see the corn rustling on either side of the road. Once he was out of range from immediate harm, John glanced in his rear view mirror. \n\tTo his horror, he saw more hooded men. They were rushing onto the road, fortunately too late to capture John as well. The pale moonlight gleamed off the aluminum bats that they were wielding. John floored the accelerator until the faint yelling behind him was obsolete. The adrenaline slowly drained out of him, returning once again to uneasiness. John cautiously drove on.\nHe had survived. The “lucky” speeder ahead of him can be assumed unable to say the same. The inconveniences of that day placed John behind that speeding truck. Fate took care of the rest. \n\n" ]	2
	[WP] The third world war had just stared and nuclear weapons are starting to drop everywhere. The noise and the impact on the Earth awakens an ancient evil, you're the only one who notices.	[ "I was at sea when the world died. I watched the rockets fly East to West and the other way too. They carried with them the end of all things. I saw the flashes first before I felt the shockwave. I never knew atom bombs could burn so bright. I might have thought it beautiful, watching every horizon burn. I felt the ocean roll beneath me, I thought perhaps a bomb had landed not far away. I felt it again. I heard a slapping on the deck.\n\n\n\"Are you people serious?\"\n\n\nI turned to look a the source of the voice and caught something before I was struck blind -- or rather struck with a kind of blindness, as though my eyes refused to see.\n\n\n\"I made it very clear to your prophets and the books I helped write and the dreams I leave you that I am down there, sleeping. Yeah, it's a deathless sleep, but it is a sleep.\"\n\n\nI tried to look again, but it felt wrong. I touched a hand to my eyes to feel for something leaking, red. I wanted to scream but wretched instead.\n\n\n\"What eon is it even.\"\n\n\nI saw a band on something that might have been an arm move up towards what might have been a face. I felt something pressing against the inside of my skull, as though my very memories were fleeing from the images now filling my brain. \n\n\n\"Oh great. I've got 500 more years before I have to get up. Why even bother... why even bother. Whatever, let's just do this now.\"\n\n\nI heard the roar of the ocean. I was slammed into the deck of my boat. I felt the salty mist moving around me. My body twisted and turned as though caught in a whirlpool and in a flash of clarity I saw the thing from the deep towering above me, framed in a halo of fire. I was weightless for a beautiful moment. My senses dulled and my ability to think and process left me. At once I felt a sudden coldness, then nothing." ]	1
	[WP] You've spent your whole life doing good, believing that it will grant you entry into heaven. However, the factors that determine your place in eternity are not at all what you expected.	[ "Ouch! I thought as I was taken from my body up to the the sky and beyond the stars. It was surprisingly comfortable; bumpy but that kind of bumpy you can use to your advantage. Guess I'm dead now Fuck your fence, I'll piss where I want! \n\nGet ready for the entrance exam \n\nStopped doing tests when I was out of school Probably why I had TB. \n\nGrab a slammer says this booming fucking voice. Fuck you booming voice, I'll go in to Heaven if I please. \n\nGRAB a SLAMMER and some fucking metal discs appear in front of me. \n\nWhat the fuck am I suppose to do with this? I eye the stack. \n\nGrab one and so I did. \n\nNow what, Chuck? \n\nThen all this smoke and music and lasers and lights and shit started up and through this thick ass veil of clouds some dude in a white beard and some sort of flowing robe came out, two hands up like he was Nixon or some shit. \n\n\"Ladies and Gentlemen,\" How the fuck is Howard Finkle in Heaven? \"Please welcome the entity known as the Guardian of the Gate,\" cue shitty techno music bounce, \"the judge with the fudge...he's one bad Slamma Jamma...Here is...SSSSSSSSAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIINT PEEEEEEEEEEEETERRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!\" and then this fishy smelling motherfucker stares at me. \n\nReady to be judged, son?** \n\nWhat the hell is going on? \n\nHell? Only if you lose! I'm Peter, no longer Simon. Which slammer do you choose? \n\nI'm nearly shitting myself cause this guy is huge; so I pull whatever slammer I can from the stack. \n\nThe Gold Skull Slammer! A valid choice! Now I shall pull out my slammer: FORGED FROM THE TEARS OF THE HEAVENS AS THEY SWEEP AWAY THE FIRES OF HELL!!! and suddenly I don't think I'm going to win whatever game this weirdo is going to play with me. \n\nA stack of round discs appears before us. Wait are these? \n\nThese are POGS, my man. We shall see if you enter eternal bliss or if you're forced to re-live the worst moments of your life. I think about the time I pissed myself in third grade and almost recreate the event. \n\nSo how does this work? \n\nSimple! You throw the slammer down on to the stack of pogs. The ones you flip over are your points. If you have more points than me then you get to go into Heaven! But if I win then you are faced with eternal damnation. \n\nBUT I went to church once! My head itches and I scratch it. This is how I get into Heaven? What about all the good deeds and stuff? I moved a dead cat to the side of the road just the other day. Isn't that worth something? \n\nNah brah. Now let's flip to see who gets the first toss. \n\nSo I flip my gold skull slammer and call heads. Its' heads and I choose to go first. \n\nGood luck! and he smiles this smile that makes it seem like he just saw someone rise out of their grave. \n\nI slam the Gold Skull slammer down on the stack. And fuck me! They all turn over! I get all the damn points! \n\nNo. No. Nope! You can't win that way. No winsises on the first turn! \n\nLet me in. I won fair and square. this guy... \n\nNope, nah, uh-uh, it's not fair if I didn't get a turn. \n\nAre you fucking kidding me? \n\nNope, no way! No how. You can't just win all the points the first toss. I'm about to toss one at his head. \n\nJust let me in. Then I get an idea that helped me out on the playground many times. No backsies. I won. We had a deal. Let me in. \n\nHe sighed, went to the cloud curtain he came out of and held them aside for me as I walked through, Gold Skull slammer in my pocket and a smile on my face.\n" ]	1
	[WP] The one universal rule is "You're only dead when everyone forgets about you". You have been dead for thousands of years. All of a sudden you wake up.	[ "It hurt. The feeling of my body being put back together forcibly. I was buried, but someone remembered me, so I was alive. I began the arduous task of clawing my way out of my grave. After what felt like an eternity, I felt air on my hands, then on my head. Soon I had hauled my whole body above ground. I looked around. My grave was unmarked, as they all are. No one wants to remember those who died inadvertently.\n\nI looked down, and was upset to see that my clothes had fully decayed, which didn't help with the cold night air. Nonetheless, I stood and bathed in the gentle glow of the full moon's light for a moment. The wind gently moved my hair, and the leaves of a nearby tree rustled. I smiled. I was back.\n\nThe first order of business was to find some clothes. After all, I was used to a certain standard of comfort. I headed towards the bright lights of the city, the ground soft beneath my bare feet. It was a long walk, but it allowed me to gather my thoughts, so I didn't mind. How long had I been dead? Would the locals even speak the same language as me? What was technology like now? Would the dead be welcomed or shunned? And who brought me back?\n\nI reached the outskirts of the city, and it looked like centuries had probably passed. Cars looked very different from how they used to, if they were even still called cars. I wondered through the empty streets, still unclothed, still cold. But still alive. I passed by a clothes store, and was struck by the desire to take. I looked around, and found seemingly sturdy metal pipe in a side street. I smashed the window, and ignoring the wail of the alarm, I searched for clothes in my size and style.\n\nBy the time the police arrived, I was fully dressed in the most regal clothes I could find. They shouted at me, pointing guns. How uncivilised. I lay down the pipe, and raised my hands behind my head, a smile dancing across my lips. They cuffed me, then led me into their vehicle, and drove me to their holding cells. Not one of them spoke a language that I knew. I told them as much in English, but they didn't understand. They were all too young to have ever known English, at least in the form that I know it.\n\nThe wait in the cell was annoying. They all favoured me with stares of disgust or pity. No doubt some of them thought I was mad. Eventually, I was hauled into a room with some old men. I could tell that they were old by the looks in their eyes.\n\n\"Greetings.\"\n\nTwo of them returned my salutation, the others left.\n\n\"So, you two can speak English? Fantastic.\"\n\n\"Yes, we understand you. It has been 800 years since we last heard the language, apart from speaking to one another. Why did you steal those clothes?\"\n\n\"Because I had nothing. I woke up buried, and I had been there long enough that my clothes decayed. Is that so wrong?\"\n\n\"Yes and no. It is a justified wrong, one that you were bound to make, not knowing how times have changed. Speaking of which, what was the year when you died?\"\n\n\"It's hazy, but I believe that it was the mid 2200s. What year is it now?\"\n\n\"You're so old that you're on the old year system. That's about when that system ended, and the new system started. It is currently the year 1037 AE. We don't know much of your time, but we know that an empire ruled most of the world, and we believe that you coming back may resurrect the emperor. Do you remember him?\"\n\n\"Oh yes. How could I not? How have you not put the pieces together? Not many people died in my days. I'm guessing it's the same with your age. If I died at the end of the emperor's life, what does that suggest?\"\n\n\"You are the emperor?\"\n\n\"Indeed. The people managed to forget me after I was imprisoned and buried. But someone went looking. Just the label of 'emperor' isn't enough, you need a more concrete idea. And someone found it. Maybe my name, maybe a description of me, it doesn't really matter. What matters is that I'm back. Sadly, my mind warped in the dark. I can't even remember my loyal servants. So you don't need to worry about them.\"\n\n\"Do we need to worry about you?\"\n\n\"That rather depends.\"\n\n\"Depends on what?\"\n\n\"On the people in charge. I have a deal for them. A deal that should be, shall we say, advantageous, for everyone involved.\"", "That sound will haunt me forever echoing some 300 feet up the prison shaft as they pulled the hood from my head. Its been at least thirty years since I was chained to this wall, the door sealed in concrete. Not a day goes by that I don't hear Seargent Danielson's voice inside my head. \"Never get caught.\" \n\nBesides Anabelle he's about the only person I think about. As much as it pains me to wonder and worry for her I make myself remember her face every day. If we lost the war....\n\nOh no. Wait how am I thinking this right now? How long was I out. Is Anna still alive? \n\n----\n\nThousands of miles away in New Gorson a middle aged man has found a letter tucked away inside a painting, just inside the frame. Terry reads the letter to himself. \n\n\"14th Grandmother Annabelle?\" he says outloud to himself as he sits on the cold floor of his Mothers old home. He wonders as he looks around at the work ahead. He had just moved his mother into a Holy Tower Estates. \n\nHe knew what it was. Maybe people can live forever but they still age. They still grow old. So people send they're old to large compounds where people are paid to remember them. \n\n----\n\nJudging by the sand built up over my knees it has to have been forever. At least 1000 years. I mean hell, this compartment is sealed with 40 feet of concrete and there's probably 200 cells stacked above me. \n\n----\n\n\"Turn down her meds,\" Terry commands the nurse. His annoyed tone tries to hide the guilt hes feeling. Most families can't afford to feed generations of family members or pray enough to keep their loved ones strong. Although he feels the guilt he reminds himself that his generation is still keeping them alive. This kind of thing has become common since the war. Being taxed by the empire hurt everyone. Even the wealthy.\n\nHe watches as her eyes adjust. She looks down and sees the note. Her eyes light up. She smiles as she takes the old piece of paper from her far off relative. They talk shortly. It feels more like fake pleasantries than an actual conversation. \n\nTerry leaves. He walks to the elevator. The elevator makes the 200 floor ride to the first floor. \n\nAnnabelle remembers Paul. She smiles, but that quickly turns to sadness as she remembers his fate. She looks at the nurse. She grabs his hand and politely asks him to put her under. She clutched the letter as she drifts into unconsciousness, again forgetting Paul and freeing him from the madness of a small room surrounded by other small rooms filled with other prisoners. A victim of the 700 year war. \n\n" ]	2
	[WP] A superhero and supervillain have been squaring off for years. To end the destructive conflict, the superhero resorts to desperate measures. He tells the villain's mom.	[ "Azazel landed on the terrace of his penthouse apartment - his customized graphene costume disappearing, mask and all – and walked towards the door leading inside. As far as anybody knew, Victor Lazlow, was a billionaire entrepreneur philanthropist. \n\nHow could a guy like that be the “World Devil”? Normally, he’d change in the alley next to the building to avoid any eager sky watchers from seeing him come and go, but tonight, he was just tired. 2 hours in Crete, another hour in Madagascar and finally, a 30 minute showdown downtown. 12 destroyed buildings, 80 plus blown up cars and lots of close combat action later, his bones were tired and all he wanted to do was sleep. Plus he needed to recharge.\n\nAs he approached the door, he heard voices and laughter coming from inside. Mother again, he thought. He had given her a key to his apartment because she insisted on making him the “occasional homecooked meal”. The other voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite…\n\nHe opened the door and stared down his mother and…him!\n\nEverything happened quickly. Furniture and glasses levitated and swirled in the air as Victor aimed them at the seated smiling man who had begun to turn blue with sparks of electricity flying off him.\n\n“Victor!”\n\nVictor turned to his mother who was visibly displeased and looked back at the seated man. The sparks had stopped flying and his color was returning to normal. He was still smiling as he sipped from the teacup. Victor seethed. Sitting calmly on his furniture drinking his tea was the singular reason he was unhappy with his life, the last barrier between him and his greatest achievement and the reason he had been fighting for the last couple of hours - Wave.\n\n“What the hell are you doing –“\n\n“Victor!”\n\nHe turned to his mother, “Mother do you know who that is?!”\n\n“That’s Charlie Tubmann from your old school”\n\n“That’s not what I mean!”\n\n“Oh you mean I should call him Wave? Because if I did, that would make him our city’s greatest superhero. And that would mean he’s saved countless lives here and all over the world from villains, ESPECIALLY Azazel. And that would mean YOU – Victor Samantha Lazlow – would have to explain to ME – your mother – why YOU ARE AZAZEL?!”\n\nWave looked at Victor with a bemused look and mouthed, “Samantha?”\n\nVictor looked away sheepishly.\n\n“I’m not Azazel”, he mumbled.\n\n“Speak up!” his mother bellowed.\n\n“I’m not Azazel!”\n\n“Really?” she folded her arms and looked around at the still levitating furniture in the air and looked back at Victor with a stern look.\n\nVictor looked away and dropped his hand, bringing the furniture and glasses crashing down. Mother shook her head.\n\n“I’m disappointed with you Vivi”\n\n“Mother, I can expla-PUT THAT CAMERA DOWN Charles!”\n\n“You have no right to be shouting at anyone right now Victor.” She put her finger up as Victor tried to interject. “Your father worked so hard to give you all of this and now I find out that you’re the worst supervillain known to man?! Fighting, blowing up things, kidnapping people? Didn’t I teach you better than that?! Didn’t I?” Victor tried to speak, but she cut him off again, “I’m not finished! Now I hear you’ve spent the last few hours destroying things all over the world. You are going to pay for everything you’ve broken Victor Lazlow. And when you’re done, you’re going to publicly apologize to the whole world and promise never to dabble in this Azazel nonsense again. Do I make myself clear Victor?”\n\n“Yes mother” Victor mumbled.\n\n“Speak up!”\n\n“Yes mother!”\n\n“Good. I left some parmesan in the oven.” She turned to Wave and immediately lit up. \n\n“It’s great to see you again Charlie. You should stop by for dinner sometime and tell me more stories from your adventures.”\n\n“I will Mrs. Lazlow. Thanks for the parmesan too.” Victor’s eyes widened. Mother sneered at Victor, “You should learn from him Victor. Take care of him Charlie.”\n\n“Will do Mrs. Lazlow.” And with that, she opened the door to the terrace and flew out.\n\n“You told my mother Charles? It wasn’t enough that you bullied me in school and beat me at every turn, you had to tell my mother?”\n\nWave grinned and ended the recording screaming, “WOOOOORLDSTAAAAAARR!”\n", "Justice Ranger quietly sneaked up across the plains, slowly making his way to the the lair of Professor Evil, his arch nemesis. The Professor has always been one step ahead of the Ranger, but this time, the Ranger was certain he would have the upper hand.\n\nAs calculated, the Professor was busy concocting his next evil plan, his attention too focused on the screen before him. Justice Ranger managed to make his way to the Professor, avoiding all the traps that littered the evil lair. \n\nPositioning himself in a comfortable position, the Ranger leaped up into the air, his gaze fixed on the Professor. \"Prepare to lose, Pohfehsor Evil!\" the Ranger screamed as he brought down his fists on the villain.\n\nTo his surprise, however, they had no effect on the Professor. He must have reinforced his back.\n\nThe Professor quickly whirled around, a grin on his face. \"Oh my naive little Justice Ranger! Do you think that would really bring me down?\"\n\nThe Ranger wanted to run, but two strong arms quickly held him down. The Professor had somehow overpowered him again. \"So how would you like my Ultimate Million Tickles,\" the Professor taunted.\n\nNot the Ultimate Million Tickles, the Ranger thought. It would kill him. In that moment of desperation, an idea came to the Justice Ranger. An idea that he had never tried before, after so many years of battling the Professor.\n\n\"Mom, Jake's not letting me win again!\" Tim shouted. At the mention of mum, Jake loosened his grip, and his younger brother quickly ran into the kitchen.\n\nFrom the kitchen, a stern woman's voice shouted back. \"Jake how many time must I tell you to just play nicely with your little brother?\"\n\nJake, however could not be bothered. Because he's Professor Evil, and Professor Evil will not let someone like his mum get to him. Except until dinner, that is.\n\n------\n\n/r/dori_tales" ]	2
	[WP] You are an innocent bystander who immersed yourself into a school bully's group of mean kids in order to be safe from his harassment. Everyone associates you with him, and you decide to stand up to him at the most important time possible in order to show the school who you really are.	[ "Alyssa MacArthur is mean. It's a really simple fact. My fake best friend is mean. She is a bully. I don't even like her and she claims we're best friends. \n\nHold on. Pause!\n\nStep back. \n\nHi, I'm Carter Elizabeth Owens. I'm sixteen, I like reading and dancing. I speak three languages and go to church every Sunday. I volunteer at the local orphanage and was to be a Pediatrician. I'm also best friends with the meanest chick in my high school. \n\nNow, you're probably wondering how that happened. I'll tell you, because, to be honest, I've had enough of her crap to last me a lifetime. \n\nIt started in middle school, about seventh grade. Alyssa was new in town and everyone thought is was cool. After all, in a place where bullies were few and far between and cliques were non existent, it meant a new friend for everyone. It was utterly BS. \n\nAlyssa MacArthur blew into our town like a hurricane threw a fishing village and before anyone knew it, our entire dynamic had changed. Cliques popped up over night as friends either started fighting or banded together to protect each other and anyone left out of a group was fair game. That's how I ended up as one of Alyssa's friends. It was horrible. I hated that she changed my school's dynamic. I hated that, as we got older, she forced those of us in her group to change ourselves to fit her wants. The other girls became bullies and we all looked like little Alyssa clones. My previously brown hair is now bleached blonde and I have to wear contact lenses instead of glasses. \n\nI hoped this year would change things. After all, we were seniors now and my little sister would be a freshman. I was very excited. I showed Nina to the office, helped her get her schedule and locker, showed her where to go, and had dropped her off in front of her first class all before Alyssa had even gotten to school. It was going to be a good day, despite being a Monday and the first day back at school. \n\nI had spoken too soon. It was lunch time and I had just made it to the cafeteria. The world was silent. I looked around and spotted the cause of the quiet easily enough. Alyssa had my sister's hair clenched in a fist as Nina tried to pull away without hurting herself. Alyssa was whispering in my sister's ear and Nina had tears cascading down her red cheeks. \n\nNo, this does not happen. Not to my sister. I don't care about anyone else, this was my baby sister. I was glad I wore sneakers today as I bolted across the lunch room and to the pair of girls. When I reached them I reached out my right hand and grabbed Alyssa's wrist and my sister's shoulder. \n\n\"Let go of her,\" I hissed as I tightened my hold on Alyssa. The blonde Barbie shot me a look that told me to fuck off. I squeezed her wrist harder. \"Let go of my sister MacArthur, before I have to do something drastic,\" I threatened. \n\n\"Katie,\" Nina whimpered and she tried to pull her hair from Alyssa's hand. \"Katie, it hurts, make her stop.\" My sister was in pain. \n\nI let of of Nina's shoulder and pointed to a freshman boy who stood near us. \"Go get a teacher. I don't care who. Get them and don't you dare let them tell you no.\" He nodded and dashed off. I turned my attention back to the pissed off Alyssa and pained Nina. \n\n\"What the hell Kate, I'm just telling the stupid brat to go sit with the other losers,\" Alyssa complains as my now free hand encircles her wrist already trapped in my other hand. \n\nI increase the pressure on her wrist again and glare at her. \"You know, when you first got here, we were all excited. We were a happy community without prejudice and hate. You created that in us. Now you reap what you sow. You hurt my sister Alyssa, now you can suffer the consequences.\" I added more pressure and her delicate wrist snapped. She let go of Nina, just as a teacher and the freshman I had sent off, came up to us. I ignored them and turned to gather my baby sister in my arms and hold her, trying to calm her down as our parents were called. " ]	1
	[WP] Immortality is a curse, not because of what it allows you to do, but how it alters your perception of time.	[ "The last time I felt this good, my dear, was when my former comrade agreed to join me. When he agreed, despite all the turmoil and controversy, to join me in a union of sorts. Not sexualy, but spiritually. And he agreed to spend time and energy primarily with me, when he knew what I was, who I was. And still am. That was, I believe, around 200 years ago? To me, it seems like yesterday. I do not remember the days after we parted very well, only that I was sad, struck down, banished from my own sweet home. I do not remember who was president then. I do not remember what rules were passed. Who was blamed for whose death, or who I killed. I do not remember the names of the people that seek my end, from then. I do not remember the names of the people that want me gone today. I do not remember, my dear, the faces of the people who were so determined to burn my home to ash yesterday, even though I was staring at them for over an hour, trapped as I was. Should one of them stand infront of me, I would smile, not widely, but politely, as they would, no doubt, ready their swords and poisons to return me to the earth. But oh, do I remember mister Ruker's face. I will never forget it. And neither shall I ever forget your face. Your pledge today is that important, your devotion that inspiring. \n\nIn short, my dear: I thank you from the bottom of my soul." ]	1
	[WP] On your usual walk to work, gazing at your phone, you're startled only by the silence and the lack of any humans in sight. Across the city, the man in the mask starts his endless shuffle towards your position.	[ "I woke up to the buzzing of my alarm clock.\n\n4:00\n\nUgh, another morning shift. Serving coffee wasn't what I really had in mind for my mid-twenties, but I'll admit a part of me enjoys the simplicity of it. I rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom to wash up before throwing some clothes on that looked presentable enough.\n\nI stepped out into the den and could hear static blaring out of my roommate's bedroom. God, I wish she wouldn't fall asleep with the TV on; hell I don't even know how she can with the loud static wailing into the night. The door was ajar, so I went to pull it shut only to see that her bed was empty. She must have spent the night at a friend's since she normally works past midnight, but I don't remember her TV being on when I went to bed.\n\nLacking the energy to continue arguing the finer points why she left her TV on, I decided to just press on to work.\n\nI made my out the front door and was immediately shocked. It was cold outside. Freezing cold. I gasped in shock of how cold it was and my breath visibly dissipated in front of me.\n\nWhat the hell? It's the middle of August! I pulled out my phone and opened the weather app.\n\nNew Orleans\n\nPartly Cloudy\n\n91\n\nIt still has the weather from yesterday pulled up. Frustrated, I hold down the home button and swipe up, closing the app. I open the weather app again to a dark screen indicating night-time, but no words appeared just the outline of where all the information would be. Fucking unbelievable.\n\nAfter going back inside and retrieving the warmest coat I have, I leave my apartment and descend the stairs down to the street.\n\nIt's quiet. \n\nEerily so. We didn't live too far off of the French Quarter, so there'd normally still be people drunkenly flooding the streets, but tonight there was no one. I can imagine the cold keeping some people indoors, but even the open ended bars were empty, even though some of their lights were still on.\n\nSomething is not right... The air was uncomfortably still and there wasn't a soul in sight. It felt like I was the only person on the block, hell the only person on Earth. That can't be right, I pulled out my phone and instinctively opened Twitter. The last update was from yesterday at four in the afternoon, right around the last time I checked. I swiped down to reload the page and the loading animation whizzed around before finally being greeted with a blank page, like if no one had ever used Twitter.\n\nThis is crazy. I started down the street still covered with beer cans and bottles, some spilt as if the person holding it just vanished dropping the beer to the ground.\n\nI frantically opened other social media apps on my phone to see if I could find anything as I walked, but they all ended up like Twitter. Reddit? Blank. Facebook? Blank. Instagram? Blank.\n\nI can't be the only person left?\n\nCan I?\n\nI look down the street to make out a shape, just barely bobbing to the left and the right. It was something moving, no, it was someone!\n\n\"HEY\" I yelled out as I start moving towards them, \"ARE YOU ALRIGHT?\"\n\n\"I CAN'T FIND A SOUL!\" I shouted as I tried to make out who this figure was. It was a man from the looks of it, with broad shoulders. He wore a long black coat that grazed the street as he smoothly moved towards me. His movements were so fluid it almost looked like he was gliding.\n\nHe wore a wide brimmed hat that obfuscated his face as he was looking down. Something was very wrong with his stature, the way he was moving. It was bizarrely smooth and inhuman. \n\nI need to get away from him. \n\nMaking an about face, I turned around and took off as fast as I could. I ran all the way down to the empty French quarter, dash through an alleyway, and end up on another street. Exhausted I slow my pace down, coming to a full stop to catch my breath.\n\nI stop for a moment to recover. I was seriously freaking out, I felt some frantically insecure pangs of relief in knowing that I put a considerable amount of distance between me and that freak.\n\nI closed my eyes as the welled up with tears. I'm so goddamn scared.\n\nAm I in hell or something?\n\nLights from the nearby bars were flickering on and off and I could hear static pouring out of the tv in one open ended bar.\n\nI felt a sudden jolt on my shoulder. It was being held.\n\nI move my eyes to my shoulder in complete shock. A gaunt hand, ghostly white, was gripping my shoulder with immense force. It felt like it could rip my collarbone right out. \n\nI slowly turned around, only to be met with his hat slowly tilting upwards revealing his face, blank. \n\nwhite\n\nghostly white\n\nEMPTY\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] The year is 2026. Millions of people have vanished over night. After months of research, you come to the stunning realization that the "missing" all had one thing in common - Dabbing.	[ "\"Well, I'm going to do it.\"\n\nJack coughs, and it turns into laughter. \"Sure, man. Go ahead, prove us wrong.\"\n\n\"No, seriously. No stopping me! I'm going through with it!\" Kevin waves his arms in the air. \"This could be the breakthrough, guys! Don't stop me now!\"\n\n\"Nobody's stopping you, Kevin. Go ahead. Do this stupid 'dab' thing and prove us all- prove us-\" Carl breaks out into laughter, doubling over. \"I'm- I'm sorry, I just can't do it. This is too good to be true.\"\n\n\"I notice none of you are dabbing,\" Kevin points out. \"If you're so eager to say I'm an idiot, why are you scared?\"\n\nJane looks at him, unamused. \"You're hilarious, Kev', but the only reason we don't 'dab' is because we aren't hipsters. Or idiots.\"\n\n\"Or both,\" says Jack. \n\n\"Well,\" says Kevin, \"I'm going to do it. I'll prove you wrong... I'll prove you all wrong!\"\n\nHe steels himself, gripping his hands into fists. This is it.\n\n\"Kev', you know - and I'm just saying, here - you would look a bit more 'epic' if you actually had muscles.\"\n\nIgnorant fools, the lot of them!\n\n\"You... said that out loud, Kevin. You do realize that, right?\" \n\nCarl continues laughing.\n\nKevin dabs.\n\nFor one second, there is silence. A pause in the conversation, almost as the world waits to see what will happen, what will come of-\n\n\"Oh, oh man, this is rich, I'm actually dying of laughter here,\" Carl chokes out. \n\n\"Well, maybe it takes some time to have an effect. You know, like, delayed responses?\" Kevin leans back in his chair. \n\n\"I think your brain has delayed responses,\" says Jack.\n\nInitializing beam sequence. A-B-C, YELLOW ONE, Zeta Arm Initiative 3.\n\nBooting machine...\n\n\"Do you hear that, guys?\"\n\nBeam sequence fail. Error: Java requires updating.\n\n\"You? Unfortunately, yes,\" says Jack. \"Although we could change that...\"\n\n\"Don't be cruel, dear,\" says Jane. \"I'm sure this moment of... silliness... will soon pass.\"\n\nUpdating Java. Rebooting system.\n\nCarl finally stops laughing. \"Man, that was hilarious. Can we do this again sometime? Like, actually. I'll bring cookies - wait, no, that's a choking hazard.\"\n\n\"Well,\" says Kevin, \"I'm going home.\" What a disappointing day.\n\n\"See ya,\" says Jack.\n\n---\n\nKevin runs, faster and faster still. And yet he can't escape it. There's no way to get out of its reach, and it keeps chasing him.\n\nSome small part of him reflects on how his life came to this moment, chased by a giant cookie.\n\nHe stops, and turns to face it. Its giant cookie mouth opens-\n\nReboot complete. Memorandum: Update from Vista at nearest opportunity.\n\n\"Wh-wha?\" Kevin bolts upright in his bed, dream forgotten. That voice - it was the same one from earlier in the day. \"Dab-monster? Is that you?\"\n\nInitializing beam sequence. Querying servers... Initiating beam transport.\n\nKevin begins to say something, but a white light fills his vision. \n\nHe's in a cavernous room, filled with people milling about. They are mostly wearing suits, with a strange symbol on the front - an octopus doing a 'dab'. Nobody seems to notice him, in his pyjamas.\n\nHe staggers to his feet. A man walking by glances at him for a moment, and then does a dab. \n\n\"Hail Dab-dra.\"\n\n---\n\nmore stories on r/forricide" ]	1
	[WP] You've had the ability to reset time and redo things since you were born. Today, you've suddenly lost the ability - and now struggle to adjust to your new life without it.	[ "The names Jacob but I guess you can call me Lucky. You see, my life has been picture perfect in pretty much any way you look at it. I could do no wrong. But what others would call luck, I would call winning the universal lottery. I really didn't understand it when it first started happening. I mean, to be honest, I still do not completely understand why I am able to do it. But it seems that whenever I am overcome with like a bad situation, a good example that I've recognized is shame. I shut my eyes and it's as if I've reloaded from a past save on a video game. I not only get saved from the consequences, I get a redo. \n\nNow, with practice, I've been able to hone my abilities to be able to go back more specifically; But let me tell you that first and second grade seemed longer than just two years. Whenever I got really upset I would go back weeks or even to the first day of school. You think school sucks? Imagine retaking it over and over again. Yeah The world sucks? Imagine reliving observing 9/11 or school shootings in the news as a kid, and i had no real power or ability to use his own power to change the world in that caliber. Believe me, I've given these events a lot of thought over the years. Doesn't mean I haven't done any good with my power, but I haven't exactly gotten myself into a good situation.\n\nToday I woke up in my penthouse in New York City overlooking Manhattan having grown my Entire wealth from Stocks. I've made a few enemies over the years, and for once in my life I am terrified for my life. It's not because as I exited my home and walked onto the street my head was covered in a burlap sack and I was thrown into the back of a van. Nor is it that I have been beaten around a few times and taken somewhere unknowingly. No. the reason why I know today is the day I die, is because no matter how hard I try, this is the last redo I got." ]	1
	[WP] Everyone's Reddit Username is a vague hint to how they get into heaven. Someone named ThoughtfulDude17 might have be a thoughtful dude to 17 people to get in. This is now common knowledge, and no one can make new Reddit accounts.	[ "Obviously, I was rather alarmed when the news first broke, it made me regret not picking one of these novelty names like 'PM me big tits' or 'fucksabout'. I petitioned and complained of course.\n\n\"But- but, it was laden with double meanings! It all started with this girl in a club y'see, the reason I made this account, I was going to ask a question and-\"\n\n\"scannerofcrap, the name is yours, and the council has interpreted it as seemed most correct. If you wish to lie in gods mercy after this life, you will spend the remainder of your days, cataloguing, sifting and yes, scanning, the excrement of your fellow man for the betterment of humanity. Fail, and you shall wallow in shit in hell forever more anyhow. You will see this is the wise choice.\"\n\n\"Can't I just browse prequel memes a bit longer instead? I could shitpost and then-\"\n\n\"Shut up scannerofcrap. be glad you are not fuckswithducks, or I fuck grandma ass. You have squandered your life on reddit thus far, looking at more rubbish online would be little of a trial to you. You will go out into the world and learn more about human crap than any who has come before.\" \n\nThat was a long time ago. I was little more than a boy then, foolish, and more used to talking shit than recording it. I've learned the compensation of the work over the years, I've caught a criminal or two from the things they've tried to swallow and hide, I met my wife when I returned to her a family heirloom her late mother had ingested.\n\nI've seen everything from the gold plated loo's of Kanye's mansion to the soiled Ganges, and you'd be amazed by how many individual details I've come to recognise. I give lectures these days in between my scanning, and even got a novel published on the subject, made it much easier to shift my other stuff after that.\n\nAll in all, I don't beat myself up anymore for the choice I made as a depressed twenty year old at 3 in the morning. I intend to wash my hands one last time, and greet god with a smile.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Write a story about anything, so long as it includes a small rock into the story.	[ "The weather was bitter on the cold, dark ocean off the coast of Greenland. Somewhere across the horizon the small Baffin Islands stood as the focal point of the naval exercise of the U.S. Navy Task Group 20. The days had been uneventful and the only harrowing moments were from the nausea of rough seas and the peril of night maneuvers with icebergs lurking in the darkness.\n\nThe icebergs kept the gunners busy as the cannons aimed skyward and fired heavy shells of illumination rounds brightening the night sea and showing the icy white of the frozen monuments before they came near any of the convoy ships. The U.S.S. Little Rock stayed busy with illumination fire late into the night and the sailors were comforted by the sight of the U.S.S. Missouri steadily cruising off the port side.\n\nA small hiccup on the forward battery as a shell misfired in the gun. Shouts for Fire Control and Safety Readiness Officers echoed across the deck as the gunner began lowering the barrels toward the darkened sea. If the misfired round touched off the projectile would impact harmlessly in the ocean.\n\n As the barrels came even with the horizon, flames shot from their ends and the horrified seamen watched as the illumination round raced across the ocean and impacted the Missouri's bridge in a dazzling spectacle of deadly light. The explosion triggered an acetylene tank on the signal bridge releasing an orange fireball into the night. The Fire Crews aboard the Missouri rushed to the aid of their fellow seaman and valiantly fought the phosphorous flames.\n\nAs the morning sun rose above the arctic sea, the two ships lay in mourning for the loss of one of their own. Even in the midst of peace, the seas hold danger to any who attempt to command them. Coxswain R. Fountain paid the ultimate price for the safety of the men and the convoy. A dangerous accident in the line of duty and the death of a brave man. \n\nRest In Peace Coxswain Robert Fountain", "The bugles sounded across the peaceful prairie and the thundering rush of hooves signaled the charge of the cavalry. The Cheyenne people had only moments to flee their encampment along the Wichita River as the 7th Cavalry appeared on the horizon with intentions of driving the natives from their home at the end of the saber and with the volley of carbine fire.\n\nThe Cheyenne warriors were absent from the camp, miles away and ignorant of the danger facing their women and children. The few men who remained quickly ushered the innocents from the camp and sent them fleeing from the oncoming cavalry troopers. As the women and children made their retreat downriver, three men stood at their rear and faced the enemy.\n\nThe fighting was short, but brutal. With whooping yells the native men fired their mix of firearms and bows at the horse bound soldiers and several of the blue clad troopers fell wounded and dead along the river bank. As the cavalry returned fire the men fell wounded but struggled to stand and fight on. The enemy descended upon them and the melee began with earnest. The sharpened axes of the natives met the lightning fast sabers of the cavalry and blades swept through skin as the shallow reports of pistols joined the sounds of combat.\n\nThe cavalry regrouped and continued their pursuit of the villagers, but the last stand of the three brave natives had given the women the needed time to escape the carnage of the charge. Laying broken along the banks of the Wichita River the Cheyenne warrior She Wolf and the Kiowa brave Trails the Enemy flanked the fearless leader whose courage would be sung around the fires, Chief Little Rock.", "The giant stood tall among the soldiers as the flurry of fighting battered shields and sliced armor. The massive man wielded the heavy hammer with deadly precision as he crushed the skulls of any opposing him before they could come close to his impressive reach. The line of shields before him protected the giant from spears and sword, while allowing the great hammer to reach out above them and smite their foes.\n\nThe center defense was failing as the giant pressed forward with his guard. The line wavered before him as none showed the courage to face the infamous warrior. As the ranks retreated they left a shallow opening in the defensive line in which there stood only one man to oppose the mighty Goliath.\n\nDavid stood naked to the sword and hammer as he knelt and plucked from the desert floor one little rock . The leather sling whirled as the rock spun faster and faster, and the deadly press of enemy surged forward with their giant as a talisman for courage.\n\nDavid let the little rock fly and it sped through the air with amazing speed. Over the shields of the guard it sounded a crack above the din of battle as it shattered the skull of the giant. The battle paused for a moment as the monster teetered and fell dead upon the sand.\n\nA cheer sounded from the ranks of the defenders and they surged forward emboldened by the death of their most feared enemy. The enemy stumbled and the field was won. As the day ended, the plain was littered with the detritus of war, and there beside the dead giant lay a little rock which was mightier than all the swords and spears.", "I'll include my own now that this has gained a little ground.\n\nAlso, I used actual names in this as this is historical fiction \n\n \nThe temperature was perfect, not too hot, not too cold, but Mohamed wasn’t thinking about the weather. Mohamed was thinking about his mission. A mission that would change the world. Mohamed knew that his mission had to be completed, but he was scared. Mohamed knew that if he failed his mission it would mean great disgrace to his family. Mohamed knew he couldn’t let his fear keep him from completing his mission. So Mohamed kept his eyes trained out the cockpit’s viewport, all the while remaining surprisingly calm, letting the immense speed of the 747 carry him to his destination at several hundred miles per hour. \n\n\n---------------\n\n\n\n Paul was having a pretty average day for a handyman working in NYC. The wind roared as Paul reached the top of the building, this wasn’t unusual, it always seemed to be the loudest when he was working on the roof. A semi-audible crunch sounded as Paul stepped onto the gravel roof of the building. He walked towards the AC unit across from the door as the roaring wind slowly got louder. When he reached the unit he knelt on the roof and spotted a small rock out of place among the rest, a smooth rock among the jagged chunks of gravel. Paul picked up the rock and grasped it in his hands. “You’re an oddball up here buddy.” he said to the rock, had anyone been listening aside from the pigeon on the edge of the building, they probably would’ve thought he was crazy. Paul wasn’t crazy, however. Paul was merely a lonely soul looking for his purpose among the millions of people surrounding him. Paul held the rock and lost himself in thought. He thought of the years and years he had worked without recognition. If only he could be like this smooth rock among the harsh pieces of gravel, a beacon of light among the pillars of darkness that surround him in his everyday life. He looked up to the clouds and listened to the wind, listening to the sounds of the city drift up on on the wind, a car horn, a jackhammer cracking concrete, a jet flying by… “a jet?” Paul ran to the edge of the building still clutching the rock. He saw the one thing he didn’t think was possible. Paul knew he had to do something, but what could he do? The rock. The rock was all he had, so he took careful aim and let it fly.\n\n\n\n---------------\n\n\n\n Mohamed clenched his fists as he neared his target, he could feel the acceleration of the 747 pushing him back in his seat. He could hear the passengers banging on the cockpit’s locked doors. None of these could stop him now. Mohamed’s mission was almost complete. He was mere seconds away from impact. In Mohamed’s last moments time seemed to slow. The gray monolith he approached got ever closer, a rock ricocheted off the windscreen. Then everything went black. \n\n\n", "The bag was olive drab canvas reminiscent of a military duffel and it showed the wear of her travels. His fingers traced the patches of places she had been: New York:The Big Apple, San Fran: The City by the Bay, Topeka: A Good Place to Dig Potatoes. There were patches from cities and parks across America, each a unique experience she would tell him about. He loved her spontaneity; she would find a reason to visit a place and she would go. It might be a Cast Iron Foundry in South Pittsburg, Tennessee because she fondly remembered her mother's skillet or a trip to the coast to see a particular gull she read of online, once she found a destination she packed the duffel and went.\n\nShe had always tried to take him with her. To pull him away from his preoccupation with work, but he always found a reason to stay. He even attempted to talk her out of trips, and he was thankful he failed and felt guilty he tried.\n\nHe stuffed some clothes in the bag. He tapped his pockets assuring himself of his wallet and phone. He walked into the bus station and asked for a ticket on the next bus. It didn't matter where he went.\n\nHe sat on the bus as it drove south and he carried the memory of his love and the excitement of a new adventure. He looked at the duffle; there was no patch for this designation, he would have to pick one up while he was there. He looked at the ticket and smiled.\n\n3:00 PM to Little Rock, Arkansas\nNo return, no refund", "The photos on the wall showed the strength of the family as \"High Chief\" grandfather looked down from the frame with his massive muscles flexed beneath bronzed skin.\n\nOutside in the bright sun, the struggles and groans of melee were heard on the front yard of the suburban home. The big man rolled in the dust and grass with the young boy clambering upon his back attempting to subdue the mountainous man.\n\n\"Dad!\" The boy yelled. \"I've got you!\" He held the man's thick neck in his tiny arms and tightly pulled his father close. They collapsed in the warm grass and lay breathing heavily.\n\n\"I will be as strong as you one day, dad.\" The young boy grinned at his father who rolled over and held his son.\n\n\"You will be stronger than any of us one day. You have the strength of many and will be stronger than us all.\"\n\nLittle Dwayne Johnson took the moment of respite to catch his father unaware in a flying tackle and the wrestling began once more." ]	6
[WP] Use your imagination and creativity!	[WP] You woke up with a gadget next to you that can reverse engineer anything, from how to make Coca Cola to the secret spices of KFC. One day, you used it to reverse engineer (insert something here) and discovered the horrifying secrets of why it was kept a secret.	[ "\"This thing is fucking awesome!\" \nJames looked up from several neat piles of herbs and spices, along with a dead, skinned chicken and bread crumbs. Richard looked at James. \"Whoa.\" \n\"What should we do next?\" \nJames looked around his apartment at rows and rows of food and mechanical components neatly arranged in rows of five. The metallic sphere, about the size of a human head and with a single button that sat flush with the rest of the exterior, opened up into a frightening looking array of needles and other surgical implements. \n\"Have we tried KFC? That has some mystery spices in it.\" \n\"I'll get the leftovers.\" \nJames bolted to the refrigerator, upsetting a small pile of thyme and a gear on the way, and retrieved a Styrofoam box, adorned with a smiling, elderly man. he inserted a strip into the mess of needles, proceeding to press the button. The sphere closed, made a whirring noise for a few seconds, and spat out the ingredients. \nJames and Richard took a look at the rows of five that the machine regurgitated, and spread the spices and small sections of animal corpse around James' floor as they ran out of the room, hoping to hold the vomit back until they were bowed over a container to receive their half digested dinner. \nWhen they returned, they were greeted by the Colonels eleven herbs and spices. Richard, having worked as a male nurse in a hospital, was disconcertingly familiar with some of the substances that the sphere regurgitated. He ran through the macabre display for James. \n\"That's afterbirth.\" \n\"I think that's pus from a cyst. I've seen one opened before, not pretty.\" \n\"That looks like flesh, but after the tissue dies and it rots off. There was a fella who got bit on the dick by a brown recluse once, the janitors had a nightmare cleaning up the vomit around the stalls.\" \n\"That's a bacteria culture.\" \n\"There's female eggs.\" \n\"That jar looks like semen.\" \n\"That's a human eye.\" \n\"Is that a fucking spinal cord? How do they get that shit?\" \nJames dug his finger into a pile of white dust, and came away with several white beads and half of a cross. \n\" 's a rosary.\" \n\"That's a piece of tongue.\" \nJames didn't need Richard to identify the underdeveloped, stillborn child that sat among the other ten 'herbs and spices.' \n\"911?\" \n\"Yeah, 911.\"" ]	1
	[WP] your friend seems to be in a bad mood these days. You message him and unknowingly send "U God?" Instead of "U good?"... before you correct yourself, your friend replies "... who told you"	[ "--Elysium Library of Truth-- Correspondence Record #10377420345382 \nParticipants: His Holiness and a Wayne Smith, upon the 20th year of His Holiness' 5,034th human life on the Earthrealm. \nU god? \n... who told you \ncome again? \nwho told you that i was god \nprove it asshole \n[Herein His Holiness sends a video to his friend Wayne in which His Holiness snaps his fingers, wishing into existence Adolf Hitler and Josef Mengele. They both give a quick \"Heil\" before stripping naked. The remainder of the video has been censored.] \nWHAT THE FUCK \nconvinced yet \ni think so \nyou have no idea how many questions i have right now \nwait \nyes you do \nlet me just answer them \ni am technically the abrahamic god \ni occasionally like to check up on you mortals \ni have a sense of humor \nno holy book has it right, especially the christian one, why the fuck would i send my son to save you all when i would just do it myself \ni did know about that one time that you fucked catherine behind by back \nno, i did not care when you fucked catherine behind my back \nyour taste in porn is weird as fuck \nhell does not exist \nfuck the pope \nhow is it to be omnipotent \nfucking boring \ncan you put a reuben sandwich in my fridge please and thank you \nyes, i'm god, wayne's manservant \nhave your fucking reuben \nHOLY SHIT \ngods don't need to shit \nyou're joking \nno \nthat's arguably cooler than being omnipotent \ni agree " ]	1
	[WP] You tell everyone that you have a twin sibling as a joke. Several of your friends claim to have met him.	[ "Christian, Christian, what the fuck is going on?, It was just a god damn joke I told a few times, who the fuck is this guy? \n\nI started running home to try and figure shit out. Mom was going to be home by 5:30 and I'd be sure to ask anything I needed to then, but for now I needed to find anything I could on whoever the hell Christian was. I went to the garage, where the walls were copies of one another, just giant old dusty shelves with books that had either been forgotten or lost their use long ago. I went to the far back where mom kept the files with our birth certificates and anything important she didn't want to lose, I started flinging anything that wasn't worthwhile all over the tops of the cabinets. I was done with this joke, I wasn't sure if my friends had turned the table and were fucking with me, but at least for my own piece of mind I had to be sure that nothing weird was going on. There was dead silence, with no sound throughout except for the turning of pages. \n\n\"Just call me Chris\"\n\nWHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, I flung a handful of old papers and got the hell out of the garage. I had heard a voice, sounded like a young guy, crystal clear, a whisper in my ear. Nah it's nothing, I'm probably just over thinking everything and messing with my own head. I went inside to just eat something while I waited. \n\nThe car pulled up out front, I knew it was mom because the car had bad brakes and you could hear the damn thing coming up from blocks away. \"What's wrong?, Why are you sitting in the kitchen?\" she asked. \"Mom am I the only kid you have?\"\n\nShe was shaken, my mom was a rough woman that didn't take shit from anyone, so to see her get visibly pale and nervous made my stomach a little uneasy. \n\n\"We need to go right now\" she said as she pulled at my arm and got the keys to the car. \"Mom what the fuck is going on?\"\n\"We need to go get your father\" she said, 'We need to go, we just need to go\" was all I could hear before she started sobbing uncontrollably. We got into the car and she started speeding out if the neighborhood onto the closest freeway to get out of town.\n\n\"Please mom I just want to know what's happening, who is Chris?\"\nShe slammed on the brakes, pulling off to the side of the freeway, we were in a secluded area surrounded by nothing but trees and darkness.\n\n\"Why did you say it like that?\" She whispered\n\"Like what?\"\n\"Why did you say Chris?, and not Christian?\"\n\"Mom it's not a big deal can we just go wherever the fuck you're taking us?\"\nShe clenched her jaw and said \"Tell me why you said his name like that\"\n\"Look mom I had heard a voice earlier in the garage that said \"just call me Chris\", that's all, I don't know anything and you're not telling me shit so what the hell is going on, do I have a brother!?\"\nShe looked at me with tears streaming down her face, \"I'm so sorry I never told you, I thought we could just get away from him and leave that all in the past\"\n\"Can you just tell me who he is?\"\n\"He's you\"\n\"I have a brother?\"\n\"He's your twin but he's different, he's not like us\"\n\"In what way?\"\n\"Something was different about his brain development, he spoke before you, walked, talked, he was gifted, he was already reading and speaking normally before you even understood that you were a person.\"\n\nThis only raised more god damn questions than it answered.\n\n\"So what happened to him and where are we going?\"\n\"He was around three years old when he started to trap animals, he would torture them and horribly mutilate them. Me and your father would end up discovering these poor creatures far too late as he would hide them under the house, the garage, anywhere where he was small enough to crawl into and be alone. We went to counselors or anyone that would help, but nothing changed, and then he started to switch from animals to trying to get to you. Your father and I could barely sleep, we had to bring you to our bed and he would still try to get to you. We had him taken to an institution where they could keep watch over him and we could just get some rest and be able to focus on you for once. We would visit when me and your father got the chance, but it would just get harder and harder every time. He would hurt other kids, then moved on to manipulating the adults, the doctors would explain all of this to us and even they seemed to be getting worried. We stopped visiting after a major incident when he was around ten.\"\n\nPart of me didn't want to know but the other part was tired of being left in the dark. \n\n\" What incident?\"\n\"He, he took the lives of three nurses. He had gone about a week with no incidents but this was just to gather supplies. He poisoned a patient in his room, the patient started to convulse on the floor gasping for air, one nurse heard the noise and screamed for others to come help. They came into the room and were focusing on the patient, while this was happening Chris closed the door without being noticed, and was able to bolt it shut so no one could get in or out. These poor women were mangled when they were finally able to open the door, it was far too late, Christian had painted the walls with their blood. \"ONE SON\" drawn throughout the room, he's been in solitary confinement ever since and that was the last time we saw him since they transferred him to another state with higher security.\"\n\nI held my mom in my arms, reliving her memories had torn her apart, here we were, just outside of town, running from my twin that I didn't even know existed a week ago.\n\n\"We'll be alright mom, let's just get out of here\"\n\nTAP TAP TAP on my mother's side window. There he was, bending over just outside the window, he was smiling, looking into my eyes, looking through me, I couldn't move and neither could my mother. He was me, he was skinnier, more pale, just a little bit off. I knew it was over, here was my brother, a man I didn't know existed, a man that was supposed to be a joke, and I knew he was a man that would be taking my life.\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You're a genie without powers, but you are still compelled to fulfill one's wishes to the best of your ability.	[ "And as she gently rubs the lamp, I come out and materialize into my real form. After a thousand years, it feels good to stretch my arms and feel the fresh air hit my face, after so long. Then I see her. She's there, my liberator. She is sobbing quietly in the corner of the small room and holding the lamp. I go towards her and say, \"My master, you have released me from my prison. What wish shall I grant you?\" She looks up at me, with her tear filled eyes. \"I feel like dying, but I don't want to die. Save me, please\", she says, with blood pouring out of her wrists and tears flowing down her eyes. She seems distressed and sad, really sad. I would've granted her wish then and there, I would have erased all her bad memories that's causing her so much pain. I would make her whole again, but the truth is I don't have any powers, none at all. So many years imprisoned on that tiny cage has altered me completely, and I am nothing but a shadow of my former self. But, I want to save her. I don't want her to die. So, I hug her. \"Shh... Everything's going to be okay. It's alright, I'm here for you now.\" I say these words as she clings tightly onto my chest and soaks me with her tears.\nAnd I don't know what's going to happen next. All I know is that I never want to let go, I want to save her. I just want to save her.", "\"So Mr... um... Jefferson, is it? What makes you want to work for the Make-A-Wish Foundation?\"\n\nShrah-homtep shifted in its leather seat (and newly acquired skin) uneasily. It felt it's disguise might not be passable but humans tend to see what they want to see. It cleared its throat.\n\n\"Ahem, well, I have a very extensive history of assisting those in need, I've done work throughout South America, Africa, most notably Egypt. Here, it says in the - \" it leaned forward and clumsily pointed to its resume.\n\n\"Yes, very impressive,\" the HR managers eyes widened as it met Shrah-homtep's wild gaze. Just then he got dizzy. Something felt off. Had someone turned the heat up in the office? Maybe something bad he ate for lunch?\n\"I just... with no references, not to mention any valid ID, it makes the hiring process ... difficult.\" The HR manager loosened his tie. \"God, I wish someone would make it a little colder in here. Well at any rate, we aren't looking for new employees. But I wish we COULD hire you.\"\nShrah-homtep beamed. Now was its chance! With a shimmer of heat and the illusion much like a mirage on the desert horizon, it showed its true form. The HR manager gasped and as he was about to utter one last scream, the genie smirked and shouted \"YOU'RE WISH IS GRANTED\"\n", "\"Well, it's pretty unfair to say I have no powers. I did just spring out of that lamp, after all. I'd like to see you try that.\"\n\n\"Right,\" said Mel. It was only her second day interning at the library. She'd only tried polishing the lamp so it'd look like she was doing something. \"No offense intended. I guess I just assumed...\"\n\nThe genie's face fell. \"Hrm. No. Sorry. I get a little defensive I suppose. You rub a lamp, a genie pops out - I mean, what else are you supposed to think there?\"\n\n\"Uh huh,\" said Mel, carefully setting the lamp back down on the shelf. \"So... you just live in the lamp, is that it?\"\n\nThe genie sighed. \"Yeah, basically. It's... it's not so bad. Pretty quiet, mostly.\"\n\n\"Well, it's a library,\" said the Mel. \"That's kinda the big thing here.\"\n\n\"Right.\"\n\n\"Did you...\" Mel was trying to be delicate. \"Did you used to grant wishes and stuff like that?\"\n\nThe genie puffed out his cheeks and nodded. \"Yeah. Yeah. All the time. Just like you'd hear about. Um... not sure how long ago it was. A while. Anyway, this fella found my lamp and he made his first two wishes and then... well, I think he was trying to be nice... he wished that I wasn't a genie anymore.\"\n\n\"So you're not a genie?\" said Mel.\n\n\"Not technically.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"But the thing is, my power came from being a genie. Me being tied to this lamp is a whole other ball of wax. So...\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said Mel. \"So he took your powers, but didn't set you free.\"\n\n\"I don't think he was well versed in genie culture,\" said the genie. \"Nice guy, though.\"\n\n\"So now what?\" Mel began shiftily looking around for her manager. She really needed the internship for her college application. \"You just get back in the lamp, or...?\"\n\nThe genie swallowed. \"Uh, I think I still need to grant you three wishes.\"\n\n\"But you just said...\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, like manually, if you know what I mean.\"\n\n\"So...\" Mel paused a moment to mull this all over. \"You need to fulfill three wishes for me. But you have no magical powers, so it needs to be things any regular, normal blue person in Hammer pants could do - right?\"\n\nThe genie smiled awkwardly. \"You got it.\"\n\n\"Okay, I wish you would dust those shelves.\" He didn't do an especially great job of it, but the genie followed through and dusted the shelves.\n\n\"That was kinda fun,\" said the genie, breathing a bit heavily. \"Really don't get out enough.\"\n\n\"I bet,\" said Mel. \"So you really have to keep living in that lamp?\"\n\n\"Seems that way,\" said the genie. \"After I'm done granting wishes, I have to go back.\"\n\n\"What if I don't make another wish?\"\n\nThe genie winced. \"That wouldn't be great. If I'm not actively granting a wish, my essence starts tingling. Then it starts burning. Then it turns into the most horrid physical, emotional, spiritual, astral pain you could ever imagine.\"\n\nMel blanched. \"And now?\"\n\n\"Tingly.\"\n\n\"I wish for you to go run ten miles.\"\n\nThe genie shook his head. \"I have to do something for you. Just telling me to go do a random thing that doesn't benefit you doesn't work either.\"\n\nMel sighed. \"This is a lot of rules for someone who's not even an actual genie anymore.\"\n\nThe genie flinched. \"Sorry,\" said Mel quickly. \"That was cruel. I didn't mean...\"\n\n\"No worries. What's next?\"\n\nMel pulled out her wallet. \"Here's some money. Run over to the burrito place on Smith Street and buy me a steak burrito.\"\n\n\"Huh,\" said the genie. \"This is some silly looking currency. I'm on it.\"\n\n\"Don't forget the guacamole!\" called Mel, as the genie took off running. \n\nIf the sight of a blue, shirtless man jogging through the streets had caused any commotion, Mel never heard about it. \"Good work,\" she said, peeling back the foil on her lunch.\n\nThe genie wiped a line of sweat off of his brow. \"This is a pretty interesting village you have here.\"\n\n\"I like it,\" said Mel. \"You ever had a burrito before?\"\n\nThe genie shook his head. \"Take a bite,\" said Mel. \"The taste of a good burrito is knowledge no living being should go without. And I'm assuming you can't pick up too many diseases living in a lamp.\"\n\nThe genie took a bite and nearly collapsed at the wonder of it. \"Goodness!\" he mumbled. \"The green goo makes all the difference.\"\n\n\"The green goo is humanity's greatest achievement.\" Mel took back the burrito. \"You ready for the last wish?\"\n\nThe disappointment on the genie's face was obvious, though he did his best to hide it. \"Yes, of course.\"\n\n\"Good, 'cause it's a doozy. I wish for you to write one letter every single year, from now until the end of time, detailing every fun thing you did and tried here on Earth - anywhere on Earth. Then you're gonna put that letter in an envelope and send it to me. How's that? One letter every year. That's not asking too much.\"\n\nThe genie couldn't speak for some time. He tried to find the flaw, because he knew there must be one. \n\n\"You're doing something for me,\" said Mel. \"No restrictions on how you spend the time. But you have to send me that letter, and I don't imagine you can do that from inside your lamp.\"\n\nThe genie's mouth was dry. \"I'll live longer than you. Much longer.\"\n\n\"You still have to send me a letter,\" said Mel. \"Never said I'd read them all.\" \n\n\"It's...\" The genie shook his head. \"Are you sure?\"\n\n\"Well, it's not like you can save the ozone layer or anything,\" said Mel, smiling. \"Yeah. That's my wish. Get on it.\"\n\n\"I will,\" said the genie. He had never cried before, so he was surprised to find that was even something he could do. \"One letter. Every year. For you.\" \n\n\"Good,\" said Mel, handing him another bill. \"Now go get your own burrito. I don't want you to see what I'm about to do to this one.\"\n\nThe genie nodded, bowing really, and left the library. He was as good as his word. And his life was truly something to behold. \n\nIn later years, Mel and her children would gather on the day the next letter was due to arrive. It was a holiday for them, second only to Christmas. They would read it aloud, in turns. The letter was really more a book, capturing every detail, every twist, every turn. They thrilled to read it, nearly as much as the genie thrilled to live it. " ]	3
	[WP] You are forced to live with a dragon as a roommate.	[ "Everything had been going well at work, Vince thought. His work hadn’t been amazing, per se, but it was certainly acceptable, and he seemed to get along with everyone in the office. He had finally built up the courage to ask Caren out on a date, and he was really looking forward to that. He had missed his deadline on the APL file, but it was just by a day, and he had sent his supervisor an email explaining the circumstances, so he figured that it would be alright. So, Vince was quite surprised when he was called into Tom’s office and was gently informed that he was being let go. \n\nVince, stunned, packed up his things and left the building. After a day or two of wallowing in self-pity, he decided that he needed a break from working in analytics, since it was quite boring and he was ready for a change, and applied for a job as a bartender at a nice hotel a few blocks over. He had bartended a little throughout college, and figured that working at a bar would be a nice change of pace from the doldrums of office life. \n\nWhile it was fun to be a bartender, the pay cut was pretty steep. Vince didn’t mind, at first, because it wasn’t like he had a family to support or a wild gambling addiction. But, as time passed, and the beginning of each new month became more and more ominous, Vince began to develop some concerns about being able to pay the rent for his apartment. He was never truly broke, but he had enjoyed a plush financial cushion for so many years, and as his savings steadily dwindled, he understood that his lifestyle change would affect his living situation. \n\nThrough a friend of a friend, he found an open room in an apartment on the other side of town. It wasn’t a bad neighborhood, but it wasn’t great. But, Vince justified to himself, he wasn’t spending too much time in his apartment anyway, so it was fine that it wasn’t the ideal living situation. The other guy living in the apartment seemed cool enough. He had a few burns on his arms, Vince noted, but he assumed that the guy was an electrician or something that involved some physical labor with heated objects. Nothing too weird. \n\nVince moved into the apartment on a Wednesday night, as snow began to softly fall from the skies and lightly dust the tops of the cars parked on the road and dulled the light from the lampposts that illuminated Pozar Street. He entered the apartment and was immediately smacked in the face by a heat wave that was hotter thanl an African summer. Sweat dripped down his face and stained the cardboard box of sweaters that he held in his arms. His roommate came out of his room to greet him, shutting the door firmly behind him. Vince adjusted the box and wiped his brow. “Wow, man, you really like the heat, don’t you.”\n\n“Yeah, sorry about that. Margaret is really acting up today. She has such an attitude. I keep trying to get her to chill out, but clearly, it’s not working,” he explained. \n\nVince nodded in understanding. Women, in his experience, always had some sort of issue about something and needed to be appropriately appeased and consoled. He thought it was a bit rude that she didn’t come out of the room to greet him too, but maybe she was so highly distraught that she just wasn’t in the mood to be polite. Vince made a mental note to be extremely nice to her and to not get in her way. He wondered how long Margaret and Glen had been together. \n\nGlen went back into his room, shutting the door tightly behind him, and Vince continued to sweat profusely as he moved his things from the UHAUL truck outside into his new room. At night, as he laid in bed, Vince tossed and turned as he sweat through the sheets that tangled around his ankles and he soaked through his pillowcase. His window was open, but the faint breeze of cool air that managed to make its way to Vince offered little relief. In the morning, when he asked Glen if they could maybe lower the thermostat, Glen shook his head in apology, explaining that the thermostat hadn’t worked for several months, but the landlord swears that it will be fixed soon. Vince thought that he might be suffering from heatstroke and didn’t understand his roommate correctly. \n\nAfter work, Vince bought an industrial-sized fan for his room. He laid in bed, still hot, but soothed by the ambient white noise of the fan’s whirring. He bolted upright when he heard a loud roar from Glen’s room next door. Vince poked his head out into the shared hallway. It was hotter than ever. Glen’s door was open. Glen emerged, looking frazzled, sweaty, and sported a new red burn on his left forearm. Vince asked if everything was alright. \n\n“Sorry if Margaret woke you up. She’s really growing at a rapid pace, and it’s making her uncomfortable. She’s highly agitated.”\n\nVince looked at him with a blank stare. “What?”\n\nThen, he saw it. A tip of a black wing poked out from behind Glen. A face emerged, with a strong, pointed snout that smoked as the beast breathed in and out. It’s eyes focused on Vince, whose jaw had dropped with shock and horror. \n\n“Is that a fucking dragon?”\n\nHer dark scales seemed to shine brighter as she understood that his words were directed towards her. She snarled. Glen looked confused. “Yeah… Who did you think Margaret was? I thought you assumed she was my pet?”\n\nVince was speechless and shook his head slowly. ‘Nope, man, I did not ever consider that she was your dragon.” \n\nHe turned back into his room and shut his door, panting, eyes wild. Vince quickly opened his laptop. Staying in this apartment was no longer a viable living option. He missed the steady continuity of his job in analytics and the life that he used to live. This was just too much.\n\nHe went to look for open positions on his favorite website for career advancement, Monster.com. ", "<M-lerp>\n\n\"Stop it...\"\n\n<M-lerp>\n\n\"Knock it off...\"\n\n<M-lerp>\n\n\"Guh... cmon...really?\" I flinch in mild disgust as her tongue flicks at my ear and the side of my head, this time finally hitting and sticking, leaving a gooey trail of saliva. \"Are you done?\"\n\n\"Oh come on! I'm just bored. You haven't been doing a whole lot recently. Why?\" \n\n<Sigh> \"Look I would get in huge legal trouble if something were to happen. A student exchange like this hasn't happened since.... well... ever! I just want to play it safe.\"\n\n\"Aw cmon! I'll be good!\" She hopped up and down in the middle of the living room and looked excitedly at me. She crouched down like a cat or dog ready to play, even her tail seemed to wag. I don't know where or how she learned to look 'cute', but somehow she did. \"Lets go on an adventure! I know where to go! It'll be fun! I wanna fly and do stuff.\"\n\nHer tail slithered around me and pulled me close, sorta dragging me off the couch and along with her towards the door.\n\n\"Wait wait wait, where are we going??? No! I don't wanna... I have work to do here! NO!\"\n\nOther than a snickering giggle and a playful hiss I didn't get a response, I was dragged outside. \n\n\"Nonono, I'm scare of heights! Lazhi, no!!\" But before I could react I was tightly gripped in her set of claws and I heard the powerful flap of her wings.\n\n\"Relax! I won't drop you! I promise. We'll go site seeing and spend some time together.\"\n\nMy protests went unanswered for the rest of the flight. Though I had to admit, she was right. I did have a lot of fun that weekend.", "\"Hey, I'm back.\"\n\nI walked into the room and saw him sitting on the couch, munching on a piece of burnt toast.\n\n\"Welcome home, Nate! How was school?\"\n\n\"Uh, good... why the hell are you eating burnt toast?\"\n\n\"Well, I tried to toast it in the toaster, but these claws slipped and made it stay in there for too long!\"\n\n\"You breathed fire onto it again?\"\n\n\"...yeah.\"\n\n\"It's a miracle that you haven't burned this place to the ground yet, Crolan.\"\n\nHe turned his head to me, and he narrowed his eyes as he growled.\n\n\"Yeah, keep with that smart talk and I just might make sure that your clothes don't see the light of day.\"\n\n\"Okay, jeez, I'm sorry.\"\n\nHe leaned back into the chair and let out a loud laugh as he closed his eyes and put his hands on his belly.\n\n\"Only joking, N! I wouldn't do that to a friend!\"\n\nI walked over to him and flicked his snout.\n\n\"Okay, I get it. You're gonna destroy the house if you're not careful, okay? That's all I'm saying.\"\n\nHe put his hand onto his snout, rubbing it.\n\n\"Alright, I got it. Hey, any homework that you might need a bit of help with?\" \n\n\"Just an art project. Gotta find a model to draw.\"\n\nJust as I realized my mistake, he got out of his chair and walked over to me.\n\n\"Well, you've got one! Look at me! I'm the perfect model! No one at your school would believe you! A dragon for a roommate! With golden eyes, wings, blue scales, a snout, a long tail, purple spines, everything!\"\n\n\"That's the problem. No one would believe me. I need to find someone that fits within the realms of probability.\"\n\n\"Okay, fair point. What about math? I know you suck at math.\"\n\n\"That, you can actually help me with. It's quadratics. Do you know that?\"\n\n\"Yep!\"\n\n\"Thanks, man.\"\n\n\"Don't mention it,\" he said as he patted me on the shoulder and began scribbling down answers onto the page with his claws and moving more burnt toast to his mouth with his tail.\n\nHe can be annoying sometimes, but damn. He's a pretty good guy when he's not burning stuff.\n\n----------------------------------------------------\n\nTerrible response finished. Move along." ]	3
	[WP] You ask someone to give you feedback on your newest manuscript. After they finish reading through the whole draft, you ask them on how to improve it. They then highlight the entire text, press "backspace," click save, and finally close the document.	[ "\n★★★★★ The Most Truthful Book I've Ever Read\n\nWhen I got an advance copy of by T. N. Errans, I thought to myself, \"Who mailed me a book cover?\" I'll admit, I didn't understand at first, but after repeated readings, I got it. This book, with nothing in it, is the most profound and truthful thing I've ever read. It's the only book that's objectively true! Some people might find that vacuous, but for me it was an eye opener. Would read again! In fact, I just did!\n\n★★★★☆ A book without cliches!\n\nIf you're tired of authors pulling out the old Deus Ex Machina, then is the book for you. There's none of that. No plot holes, either. No loose ends. No cringeworthy dialogue. I'd say there's nothing to hate but personally I'd like to have seen more character development. Or, for that matter, characters.\n\n★☆☆☆☆ ???\n\nWhere's the fucking pages???", "\"Well, there are healthier ways to tell me you don't like it, but I guess this is what I get for soliciting feedback.\n\n\"Jimmy, there are two things I really need you to do. The first is that I need you to get the hell out of my house, go home, and fuck yourself with one of the many empty wine bottles you keep in your apartment. Don't bother lubing it up, lube is for closers.\n\n\"The second thing I need you to do, after cleaning up the blood of course, is to hop on Google and look up Dropbox. What did you think this is, the Seventies? You'd pull some 'Misery' bullshit and torch my book because it didn't have enough pictures for you? I've got three revision passes worth of text on my hard drive, a fourth on a USB drive, and all that and a bag of chips on the Cloud. And since it turns out that your knuckles drag even lower than I originally thought, I don't mean the things in the sky that look like rabbits, you troglodyte.\n\n\"Goodbye. I hope you like eating shit, Jimmy. The character I named after you is going to be doing a lot of that once I get done with my next edit.\"", "\"Wow, ma, that was harsh.\" Ma looked at me, her face stern. \"Life will be even harsher if you keep going with this nonsense. Novels! Writing! Who do you think you are, Shakespeare?\"\n\n\"Ma I really worked hard on this! This is my passion, I want to become a writer.\"\n\n\"And who is going to pay your bills? The hero in your 'novel'? Hmm? If you put even half this effort into your studies you would have gotten into a good engineering college.\"\n\n\"I don't want to be an engineer! I want to write!\"\n\n\"I won't have you become a loose girl like this. Tomorrow your father and I are going to meet the principal of the engineering college we chose for you and we'll pay for your seat.\"\n\n\"I'm not going to join any engineering college so don't waste your money. I'm going to follow my dreams.\"\n\n\"Dreams?! Dreams are for sleeping. Who will marry you if you write such things? Where did you even learn about kissing and all? This has gone too far. I am taking your phone and your laptop. The next time you step out of the house will be on the first day of college. Now go to your room.\"\n\n\"YOU CAN'T DO THIS! I'LL CALL THE POLICE!!!\"\n\n\"YOU THINK THIS IS AMERICA THAT YOU CAN CALL THE POLICE ABOUT YOUR OWN PARENTS? WHAT KIND OF CHILD ARE YOU, BRINGING SHAME ON THE FAMILY LIKE THIS?? WHERE DID I GO WRONG IN BRINGING YOU UP?\"\n\n\"I just don't want to do engineering ma...\"\n\n\"Then do Arts or Commerce. You know what this is all my fault for giving you freedom until now. I trusted you but you misused it, kissing boys and all. What am I going to tell your father?\"\n\n\"Ma it's not like that, I never misused\"\n\n\"THEN HOW DO YOU DESCRIBE ALL THE FILTHY THINGS IN THIS BOOK?\"\n\n\"I just imagined..\"\n\n\"I should never have allowed you to watch all those English movies. And all those books you read, I should have kept a closer watch. What am I going to tell your father?\"\n\n\"Ma, it's fine, he won't be angry.\"\n\n\"Huh. You think he'll be pleased to read his daughter's IMAGINATION? Oh God, tell me no one else has read this. TELL ME!!\"\n\n\"No, you're the first one I showed. I thought you'd be proud of me. There's a lot more to my writing than the 'filthy things', you know.\"\n\n\"You expect me to be proud of you for writing such degenerate things? This is what I get for all the years I spent focusing on you. It's all my fault. Your father will never forgive me. He wanted to be strict, I convinced him to let you have freedom and you would do the right thing and uphold our honour. Now look what you've done.\"\n\n\"You've been an amazing mother. Please try to understand me!\"\n\n\"I am done trying to understand. You will do as I say. Now GO TO YOUR ROOM!\"\n\n\"But ma\"\n\n\"NOW!\"\n\n\n(Indian girl and her mom, for extra context)" ]	3
	[WP] "I have something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now. You...are my wife."	[ "\"I am my wife,\" she responded in her slightly monotone, robotic voice.\n\n\"No, no. Wife. You are wife.\"\n\n\" I am wife.\" \n\nDave grimaced and scratched his beard. He wondered why she wasn't picking up on his verbal cues and commands when she was usually so adept. \n\nHe flopped down into his chair and let out a long sigh. He rested his head on the back of the chair as he wondered which part of the code he would have to readjust. \n\n\"Would you like me to play some music?\" She asked.\n\n\"No,\" Dave said. He sat forward and picked up the pile of papers on his desk, moving aside the old coffee cups and food wrappers as he searched for the initial coding he had scribbled down when he created her. \n\nHe hadn't given her a real identity then. He hadn't really intended too. She was his hobby. Creating her, imagining all the possibilities and utilizations was exciting and made him feel useful. \n\n\"Wife, can you turn on the lights over the desk?\"\n\n\"Yes, Dave,\" she responded, and without her moving his work was illuminated from above.\n\nAfter he lost his job, he had nothing but time to devote to her and she had helped him. She filled the void that nothing else in his life seemed to be able to fill.\n\n\"She responds to the word wife...hmmm,\" Dave thought to himself.\n\nHe pushed his chair back and walked over to her, pacing in half-circles around her rigid figure. Her plastic limbs needed work, but he knew he would find time for that later.\n\n\"Wife is your title, not your name,\" Dave spoke to her calmly, again stroking his beard. \n\n\"Do you understand?\" He asked.\n\n\"I understand,\" she replied after a brief pause. \n\n\"What is my name?\" She asked.\n\n\"What an interesting question! A great question! Of course you need a name!\" Dave sat back down and laughed to himself, opening up his laptop to search Google for women's names. He wanted it to be right. He wanted it to be perfect. \n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] I opened the door. The room was dark.	[ "The Butterfly Effect is an idea, a concept that small ideas somewhere can have huge effects elsewhere, or later on. The illustration of a butterfly's wings fluttering in California disrupting weather patterns in Japan springs to mind. It is a relatively abstract concept to most, counter-intuitive to some.\n\nBut as I stared at the darkened room, the Butterfly Effect seemed all-too real to me. Painfully, tragically real. \n\nFor eleven years, we had a pact. A ritual, almost. No matter what the occasion, no matter how bad the quarrel, that one solitary lamp in the corner of the storeroom would be turned on. I flicked on the light switch, flooding the room with the simulated brightness of day. Even as the room sprang to life, another nail seemed to have driven itself through the coffin in my heart. \n\nWith a near superhuman effort of will, I staggered over to the armchair in the corner, facing the lamp. Here was the one room I could escape to whenever the world felt as if it was crashing down on me, where the both of us could laugh and cry and rage and open our hearts to each other. Our \"Fortress of Together-tude\", she used to call it. But now, it wasn't the world I needed to escape from, it was this room that now seemed so empty, like I had escaped from one void into another.\n\nA small butterfly had entered the room. Maybe the front door wasn't locked properly, or perhaps a window had been left open. I couldn't care less. It fluttered its way into the room, hovering near the lamp. The butterfly looked as if it was tired. Weak, even. The perfect reflection of his current state.\n\nIf only Edna hadn't said \"I do,\" to Charles.\n\nA preposterous notion for most, but to my devastated, emotional state it made perfect sense. Charles and Edna, two of my college friends had invited both of us to their wedding reception. Being born with silver spoons in their mouths, the wedding was to be in no less a place than a grand, towering castle built on top of a hill. The whole place had been booked just for that occasion, complemented by the best caterers, wedding planners and whatnot. \n\nThe butterfly settled on the edge of the lampshade. Unmoving. \n\nThe wedding was grand. The best we'd ever attended, in fact. Half masquerade, half dress-up party, coupled with a lavish place and excellent food- it was pure bliss for a middle-class couple such as us. The last taste of heaven before she went off to savour the real deal, in fact.\n\nA coin fell out of my pocket. An ordinary 50 cent coin, no special markings or misprints. To me, it was a butterfly, every toss of that coin a flap of the lethal wings which could cause hurricanes in Texas, Trinidad and Timbuktu. I stared at the coin with loathing in every fibre of my being, even as I pulled out another weapon of destruction from my back pocket.\n\nWe had another weird ritual. At events like these, a simple coin toss would indicate the designated driver for the night, even though he or she would still end up having a glass or two. I chose heads, she chose tails.\n\nI wished I had chosen tails. Suddenly, the gun felt much, much heavier in my hand, weight of all my sorrow and loss crashing down into my reality just like that. What if I had chosen tails? \n\nSome physicists believe in a \"many worlds\" interpretation of the universe, a \"parallel universes\" theory, if you will. I had no luxury of understanding the science, merely left with the desire to be whole again, to be in the universe where she and I arrived home safe and sound.\n\nIt was cliché almost to a fault, really. The long, winding path down the mountain. The heavy rain, the oncoming car she swerved to avoid, the crash, the bang, and the brief spate of unconsciousness that followed.\n\nWaking up felt like a dream. Multiple fractured ribs, a concussed skull, heavy bruising was nothing compared to what they found in the wreckage next to me. I wasn't even conscious to witness her dying breaths. To hold her hand, telling her it would be alright. Just to tell her that I loved her. One. Final. Time.\n\nThe coin I held in one hand, the gun in the other. One had already caused a death. The other weapon would soon follow suit- or would it?\n\nNow that I was face to face with the very idea of suicide, it didn't seem like a split-second decision after all. Competing voices echoed through my brain, one after the other.\n\n\"Its the fastest way to be with her.\"\n\n\"Would this be what she have wanted?\"\n\n\"If I had known what she wanted, I wouldn't have needed to make this decision.\"\n\n\"Think of-\"\n\n\"Who? Think of my family? They're long gone. Friends? They aren't permanent.\"\n\n\"They'll be there for you.\"\n\n\"Where are they, now, then?\"\n\n\"I told them I wanted to be alone.\"\n\n\"They wouldn't have let you-\"\n\n\"It was my choice to be here. Not theirs.\"\n\n\"Then you choose to leave, why else would you abandon them-\"\n\n\"THIS ISN'T ABOUT THEM!\"\n \nThe neverending struggle. Life- or death? Nothing, or everything? To shoot? To surrender? \n\nHeads? Tails? I had made my choice.\n\nMy lips pressed against the barrel of the gun, warm flesh against cool metal. \n\n\"I love you, Grace,\" a whisper louder than a thousand proclaimations echoed in the now darkened room." ]	1
	[WP] The only games allowed in Hell are Monopoly and Ping Pong. Satan has changed the rules of monopoly to be even worse than usual, and the penalty for losing is having to chase stray ping pong balls for a millennia.	[ "(part 1/2.)\n\nA scorching wind rustled the colorful wad of papers clutched between ebony hooves. His acrid yellow eyes bore into the dark gaze of the woman in the small chair, mulling over her property cards.\n\n\"Well? Are you going to buy the houses?\" He tapped his cloven hooves against the floor impatiently. The sound blended with the cacophonous prattle coming from the next hall over, as a thousand games of Ping Pong went on. The pattering of many feet overlayed the airy bouncing, as sweating and gasping Hell citizens dashed around for the small plastic balls. From a nearby recliner, snoring could be heard.\n\nHe didn't understand why she was considering this. Her pile of cash was pitiful. Double rent had drained her of all savings. The thousand or so she had left was all she had. And she still wanted to buy houses? For those baby blue properties?\n\nHe snorted with laughter. Oh well. This would be over soon. True, his pile was but a few hundreds. He'd bought every other property on the board. Had hotels on every one of them. One more roll and she'd loose.\n\n\"Yes,\" the woman finally said. Beaming, she extended her cash pile to him. \"I'll take nine houses!\"\n\nHe bellowed with laughter and accepted the money. Tossed town nine green plastic houses to the board with a lipless smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes. She had a Chance card set aside. It was glossy red. A card of his own design. It was a good one, obviously, else she'd have been forced to read it aloud at the time or drawing. But what was it? Take a property? Get paid double rent? Go to Free Parking?\n\nThe small thing arranged the houses neatly on the appropriate properties. She rolled the dice and...\n\n\"Jail,\" she said simply. \"Oh well. I'm safe from you, at least.\"\n\nWith nimble fingers she slid the tophat to the little spot. A miniature cage sprung from nothing and caged the silver token.\n\nHis turn. Lucifer rolled the three dice and grinned. 666. His lucky number! What could go wrong?" ]	1
	[WP] The wind is my guiding star and the bane of my existence.	[ "The last cart went past me thirty miles back. \n\nIn the early days they were streamlined with whatever came to hand, like backwards automobiles. People wrapped plastic panels, ceiling tiles, anything to break the wind shoving cruelly at their backs. \n\nThe ones I talked to were optimistic. \"It'll be broken by that ridge,\" they'd say with authority, or \"it'll stop at the coast.\" I didn't have the heart to tell them about the people much like themselves I'd met over the ridge, or down by the sea, still being relentlessly blown ahead of it. \n\nThese days the few carts I see don't even bother. A few even had crude sails, so that the wind blew them along even faster. They didn't stop for me. \n\nWhy would they? I was going the wrong direction. \n\nI remember how it started, a few months back. First they called it an abnormal weather pattern, a unique cyclone/anti-cyclone cycle. There was fun footage on the news of umbrellas bowling down streets, CCTV footage shopping carts making a break for it while people chased behind them, yelling silently.\n\nA few days later, people stopped laughing. Crops were being ripped out of the ground. A few weaker buildings had collapsed. \n\nAnd it was so constant. Not like a tornado or a storm, where the wind buffets in every direction but eventually dies down. This was just a steady, flat wind, estimated at about 50km/h but slowly increasing, without any end in sight. \n\nI'd been immobile in a hospital bed, waiting for a minor fracture to mend up. One day, the nurses just weren't there any more. I limped over to the window and watched the last few cars leaving town, laden down with possessions people couldn't believe they'd be better off leaving behind. \n\nI don't pretend to any more than a usual level of cussedness, but when I heard what they were saying on the radio, I knew going along with it. People were panicking at the borders, when they weren't allowed out. Food was running low, and some people were rioting. \n\nThat's why I decided to walk the other direction, step by grinding step. The wind gets in my face something fierce. I've worn through three scarves keeping my damn chin warm, and my beard feels like it's been permanently bent back against my neck. \n\nBut I've persevered so far. By my reckoning I've come over a hundred fifty miles, with the gale in my teeth all this way. \n\nWasn't so far from the west coast when I started. I used to hope I'd see the sea on the horizon, whenever I crossed one of the big hills. But the wind keeps slowly rising, and I keep grinding out the miles in worn-down boots, and there's no ocean in sight. \n\nThe land's changing, though, which I half-suspected. Browns and greys and damn near purples, sometimes, when I look closely at the rocks. There's this weird lichen growing on some of them in strange diamond shapes that I don't like the look of.\n\nI'm glad I loaded up on canned food, last place I stopped. There doesn't look to be much to eat, here. When I set down to sleep, the wind cuts through the blankets at my back and the stars don't look the same. \n\nEither way, I figure everything that has an end, has a beginning. This wind was sure an end for a lot of people. One day, I'll find where it started, and throttle it in its crib. \n", "The wind is my guiding star… and the bane of my existence.\n\nFor many moons, I was kept safe high above the cruel and unforgiving ground. The wind rustled through and around me, filling me with life, vitality, a promise of greatness. With every cycle of the sun flew more of my brethren, riding it boldly to lands we had never before colonized. I stretched for it, yearned for it, prayed fervently for the day when I too would be given to it.\n\nCome spring, when the sun brought with it the blessed breeze, I cast out into the wilds. The wind caught me up before I fell too far, and I reveled in the rush it gave, the sight of land passing too swiftly below for me to follow. At last, my time had come. Like my brothers and sisters, I too would set out to conquer foreign lands.\n\nI could not have predicted where the wind would set me down.\n\nCold, bitter not-life invaded my being as I strained desperately for the fleeting sun. No shore breeze had ever left me so numb—and worse, bereft of my wings, I could do little but struggle futilely in place. What cruelty the wind had shown me—me, its most devoted child! I cannot count the days and nights I spent there helpless, cursing this horrid twist of fate. And then, one day, the cold gave way beneath me, and I was airborne once more.\n\nOh, to be free of that undeserved and unjust anti-life! To be aloft and one with the wind once more! So elated was I that I did not notice the loping gait of the current I rode, until it stopped and time stood still.\n\nWhere had my wind gone? Wherefore were my wings taken? In the cold silence, I reached for the golden promise which fled me moons ago.\n\nBut no wind greeted me this time; only a sickening crunch. And then, I knew no more.\n\n------\n\nSimilar to my clock response, this was written from a seed’s point of view. Don’t ask. XD" ]	2
	[WP] There are voices in the woods	[ "The trees seem to quiver with anticipation as she steps closer. It’s a great honor for her family, to be chosen. Only the pure and clean are chosen to join the Old Ones. Soon she will be in an everlasting paradise, and her family and friends will know that she is happy and safe.\n\n“Father,” she whispers, one last time. “Oh, father, I’m so scared.”\n\n“Why are you scared? The trees will watch for you, you know this. They will be your new family, and you will be a Princess of the forest forevermore.”\n\n“Oh papa,” she hugs him tightly. “Why me?” \n\n“The trees call out your name.” She squints, but hears nothing but the leaves rustling in the wind. “They welcome you to your new home. Now, you must go. You mustn’t keep them waiting.”\n\nWith one last smile, he turns away, leaving her alone, a few feet from the forest.\n\nThen she hears it. A light voice. “Mary,” it calls. “Mary, come to us.” She suddenly feels warm. How could she have been so silly, so frightened? This was her destiny.\nEmboldened with new purpose, she moves steadily into the forest, the voice growing louder with each step she takes. \n\nFinally, she reaches a large oak tree. It must be centuries old, the oldest in the forest. It’s branches reach far up into the sky, and seem to touch the stars themselves. \n\n“Mary, Mary, come to us.” \n\nShe knows what she needs to do. With a deep breath, she reaches into her satchel. Her reflection from the knife glints back at her.\n\n“I’m scared,” she whispers.\n\n“Mary, come to us,” the voice repeats, the warmth missing. Mary shakes her head.\n“No, no,” she cries, her heart racing, “this isn’t right.” The forest seems to darken around her, the trees moving closer to surround her as she takes in gasping breaths.\n\n“Mary, Mary, Mary,” all the trees seem to chant at once. “COME TO US. COME TO US. COME TO US.”\n\nShe moves to run, and her foot slips on a large root.\n\n“Come to us, Mary.”\n\nShe brings the knife to her throat. Tears flow down her face. \n\n“No, no,” she whimpers again. With a shaking hand, she throws the knife into the base of the large oak tree.\n\nA scream rips through the wood, the ground, the sky. She slams her hands over her ears, until only silence remains. \n\nShaking, she rises from the ground, and neatens her skirts. \n\nThe forest is silent now.\n", "A belated raindrop struck the back of Jacob's neck, and he nearly dropped his weapon. He glanced up at the trees, then his right hand reached back to wipe away the moisture. Jacob heard something crack, perhaps snap, maybe that of a broken branch. Before he could look around he felt a sharp sting to his underarm, which he then clenched with his left hand. He rose from his kneel, both hands held high, and shouted out in an anguished voice. \"You've got me!\" A few paces after emerging from the shrubbery, Andy began to laugh. Jacob lowered his hands and went back to clasping his wound. Andy was overcome with joy. \"I got you right in the armpit!\" Jacob writhed and grimaced, trying his best to think away the pain. \"Stop crying and show it to me.\" Andy commanded. Jacob pulled back his hand from the neon orange splatter. Jacob then removed his black t-shirt, revealing a dark purple welt the size of a quarter. \n\nAndy was fascinated by the damage he inflicted, and Jacob had to fend off several attempts to touch it. Jacob put his shirt back on. Dusk was fast approaching, and the two boys decided it was time to make their way home. Andy used his compass to orient east, and the friends hastily made their way through the thicket. Jacob's shorts provided little protection against the sharp undergrowth. After nearly an hour, the boys came upon a patch of thorny vines, their coils winding into rows. After a thorn pierced Andy's denim, the two resorted to hopping through the patch. Jacob cleared the patch first, and he leaned down wiping blood, inspecting a cut on his calf. Andy bounded over the thorns, and with a jump he landed a few paces from Jacob. However, when he did there was a violent clang.\n\nThe clang was followed by screaming. Jacob turned in horror. The rusty steel maw had been waiting for decades, and in its starvation it finally settled for a lesser pray. Jacob dove below the screams and wrenched at the metal jaw holding his companion's leg. No matter how hard he pulled, the trap remained firmly in place. Jacob used his t-shirt to cushion his grip, but it gave him no advantage. He resigned to tying his shirt just below the knee to stem the bleeding. Jacob picked up Andy's compass, and then staggered back two paces. \"I'll go get help.\" And before Andy could respond, Jacob had faded into the dim forest landscape. Jacob could be heard trampling through the brush with an occasional stop to look at the compass. \n\nAndy suddenly stopped crying. He could no longer hear Jacob. Minutes passed, and the silence remained. He couldn’t keep standing for much longer, and he was losing blood. He gingerly postured and unfastened his gun from its strap. He cast the weapon aside, and pulled the strap from his neck. He leaned back, and carefully laid on the ground, his knee bent keeping his calf upright. He threaded the strap on the inside jaw, and pressed the heel of his boot to outer. After a brief mental countdown he went for it. Pushing with his heel, and pulling on the looped strap, the mouth of the trap reluctantly opened. He could no longer feel his foot, so he focused on lifting his knee. As his damaged leg was set against the earth, the strap broke, and the trap chomped shut, nipping a chunk of rubber from the heel of his boot. He fell limp to the forest floor, fainting from the overwhelming pain. \n\nWhen he awoke, the trees were veiled in a darkness he had never seen. The clouds refused to surrender even a strand of moonlight. He was frightened. He couldn't see his mutilated leg. He could hardly see his fingers when held just before his face. With sight removed, all the sounds of the forest washed over him. His mind raced, and he anxiously inventoried all he heard. Every crackle, crinkle, and creak had to be explained. His paranoia grew, and dark thoughts crept into the crevices of his mind. How would Jacob find his way back? In his haste to find help, would he remember to mark the path? What if something happened to Jacob? How long should he wait for help? At what point should he decide to give up and try to find his own way back? The more he tried to push out these thoughts, the deeper they forced their way in. \n\nAfter many thoughts, Andy began to imagine a search party. Members of the community walking in a loose band shouting out his name. Would they come at night with flashlights? Would they have to wait until morning? How many people would help search for him? Would he end up on the news? He went back to the thought of voices shouting out his name. He stopped thinking and listened. If he could just hear the faintest voice, he could shout out to them for help. He tried to filter out every sound, only listening for voices. A wind started to rustle the leaves, and he had to concentrate even harder. Then he heard it. It was soft, but drawn out like a shout. It wasn't Andy, but it could have been Andrew. He wanted it to be Andrew. He had to respond. He took a deep breath, and shouted \"I'm here! I'm here!\" His voice was loud, but it didn't carry. There was no response. He tried again, and again no answer. He had to find a way for his voice to carry. He wriggled over and felt around for his gun. He unscrewed the aluminum barrel, pressed it to his lips, and shouted. The narrow tube had little effect. He then remembered a book he once read. The hero used a horn to call out for help, and it could be heard throughout the forest. Andy formed his hands into what he felt was a horn, and let out bellowing cry. Unfortunately, his hands didn't share the acoustics of a horn, and what followed was a howl. It did carry much farther than his earlier shout. \n\nA moment passed, and to his surprise he heard several replies. He could hear the replies coming from every direction. He was certain they heard his howl, and they were getting closer. Andy did not howl again. He didn't say another word. There were voices in the woods. They were speaking in a language he would never understand. There was laughter. The voices wanted to see his wound, and they would not be denied a touch.\n", "Eh, screw it. I got a little time. Let's see what I can do. \n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\nThe boy's tiny footfalls were like the steps of a giant.\n\nHe wandered through the forest with only the moon and the stars as his guide. A warm, quiet breeze blew, the sighs of the forest comforting the boy as he continued further on into its dark, inviting depths\n\nThere had been shouting back at home. The overwhelming brightness, the cacophony of yelling and pleading. The boy knew it would only get worse, and so he left to pursue his sanctuary, the forest behind his house.\n\nHe walked deeper and deeper into the forest, forgetting his troubles and his pain. \n\nHere, it was simple. \n\nHere, it was dark. \n\nHere, it was quiet. \n\nAnother breeze blew, but this one was louder, and colder too.\n\nWill he ever wake up?\n\nThe boy shivered. These breezes always came. Another one blew in.\n\nWe don't know. His condition never seems to stabilize. We're never sure of his safety...\n\nHe was tired of the voices, of the cold. He went further and further on into the forest, and it grew darker and darker.\n\nAnother breeze blew, but the boy was having trouble hearing it.\n\n^(What's happening? Oh no, Chris, please! Don't go!)\n\nThe darkness surrounded him, and the woods were absolutely silent. The boy thought he might have heard one last breeze, but it was quiet and sad, so he wasn't sure.\n\nThe boy's tiny footfalls were absolutely silent. ", "Throughout the year, I always look forward to returning to my favourite mountain come summer. Walking those familiar trails, each step producing a soft whoosh of air as the dirt compresses under my weight -- as if the Earth is taking shallow rhythmic breaths underfoot. I miss the warm beams of sunlight that fall through the trees' canopy, held by the morning mist, seeming themselves to be great vocal chords, reverberating as wind rustled through the leaves. But what I miss most is the voices I hear only in those woods.\n\nOf course, there are all the voices you might expect to find in a forest: birds chirping, woodland creatures conversing, brooks babbling... However, there are some voices that are not readily able to be heard. Voices of memories replaying on a loop, unreachable to those who where not present to form the original impression. Laughter, as my sister and I run down down the hillside, 12 years younger and half-tumbling, in a race our mother sent us on to burn off some energy; excited whispering between the three of us as a stag wanders close to the trail; wailing as my mother and I rush to help my sister who's slipped on a wet rock and dislocated her knee.\n\nWhenever I return to that mountain, it's not only I who return -- 20 years of my past and my family come with me. Sure, if I try I can recall those memories no matter where I am, but what I love about the woods on that mountain is that their echos are still so clear. The voices are so much easier to hear.", "I am big. I am strong. \nCan you hear it? \nSun should be rising any moment now. \nAh. There it is. \nThree people walked underneath me yesterday. One of them kicked my root. \nI am big. I am strong. \nI can just feel my leaves coming back in after the cold months. \nOnly three? I think I had a party beneath me. \nToday's breeze is warm. \nI am big. I am strong. \nYes, it is. I can feel it now. \nThis...squirrel. I don't think it remembers where it's nest is. \nI wish someone would walk near me. Even a raccoon would be some company. \nCan't you just tell it where its nest is? \nNo...I've forgotten how. \nHere, I'll do it. \nThanks. She seems happier now. \nYou really have forgotten? \nNot many trees remember. \nNo, I am not sure I ever knew. \nMe either. \nWait, where'd that oak go? \nThe big one? \nThe strong one? \nWAIT. \nNO. \nWHAT. \nWHAT. \nWHAT. \nWHY? \nWhere...did he go? \nChainsaws. \nI...am not very big anymore.", "Little 15-minute practice in personification :D \n\n______________________________\n\nThere were voices in the woods once. I would run home from the bus stop and straight into the forest behind our house. That patch of old trees, barely a smudge on the rolling hills, held all the friends my placid little mind could want. The birds chatted, the bees hummed, even the trees whispered stories of what it was like way up there -- to me, nearly touching the clouds. In those woods I was a dragon, a pirate, a princess; I left my story behind as marbles in the moss and initials scratched in bark. The forest knew all my secrets -- it sang with me when I shouted for joy and hushed when I confided to it my childish woes. \n\nI came home the other day, so many years later -- saw the marbles all grown over with vines and the names on the trees weathered with time. The woods held all the memories of adventures past, but in the birds and bees and trees I heard only noise, not stories and songs. \n\nPerhaps the forest has grown quiet with age, and its whispers are too soft to be heard by someone with the city screaming in their ears. \n\nPerhaps it no longer speaks because I have forgotten how to listen." ]	6
	[WP]A gamer hands his 4 year old brother the controller to keep him entertained. Tell me what happens next from the perspective of the game's protagonist, who has no knowledge of the world outside of the game, and feels that he is in control the whole time.	[ "\"Marked for deletion.\" That's what the...thing had said as he entered the line. Angel? Demon? He knew not. Only that he was here now and would likely remain so. How had it happened? How did he come here? His memory was so hazy. Was this some new twist to the curse or was this what it was like to be wholly consumed by it? \n\nHe looked about, trying to gather his surroundings. The smooth walls and floors around him seemed formed of jade and jet, with arcs of silver and gold traced throughout, stretching as far as the eye could see. All was illuminated by a great wall of light that loomed ahead of the line of people before him. \n\n\"Hail, fellow knight.\" The voice came from one in front of him. His helm was rounded like an onion, his gauntlets and greaves seemed carved from stone, and aside from a loincloth he wore not a stitch else. Twin scimitars rested on his back. \n\n\"Hail,\" he said automatically. \"Do you know where we are? What is this land?\" \n\n\"It will come to you in time. But for now let me guess...Hmm.\" The strange \"knight\" before him chuckled and eyed him up and down. His gaze rested (or at least appeared to rest; it was hard to tell with that absurd helmet) first on the sword in his hand and the shield strapped to his back. \"Straight sword, a shield with the crest of the dragon. Evaded poison and slew a foul undead beast.\" The eye slit drifted lower to his hands and boots. \"Hard Leather, that. You made it through the sewers.\" He reached out and wrapped his stone clad knuckles against the metal breastplate covered in thorny spikes. \"Bested a phantom and the spider queen. Not too bad. Crown's a bit much though, don't you think? Doesn't really match the rest of your gear. But who am I to talk?\" He laughed again, a rich belly laugh. \n\n\"Tell me, please! What is going on?\" The laughter rolled off him once again, but he waved a hand to signal he was getting it under control. He was silent for a minute, seeming to compose himself before continuing in a more serious tone.\n\n\"You're dead, son. The final, true death. This place is purgatory, where our souls wait to be removed from this existence. I'm sorry.\" \n\n\"No,\" he whispered. It was his turn to go silent, and the stranger allowed him his time. The gears had begun turning, and his memory started to return. \"I was taken by madness,\" he said at length. \"That is what caused me to fail my quest. That poor blacksmith. He was my friend, stranger. My friend. One of the only smiling faces I'd seen in that cursed land. But as I stood before him I was overtaken with a murderous bloodlust. My hands moved of their own accord, I swear it! I rared back and skewered him through the throat...\" \n\n\"Aye, that would do it. You don't seem to be hollow now, but surely your brain was then. Happens. I'm sorry, but it's surely the final end for you.\" Silence fell again. \n\n\"What about you? How did you...come to be here?\" \n\n\"I fell victim to a curious disease caused by a ripple in reality that rewrote a bunch of things. What happened to me they called a 'maladapted stat alignment.' I was strong in ways I shouldn't be and too smart by half.\" \n\n\"Gods...\" \n\n\"Yeah.\" \n\nIn front of them, the wall of light pulsed quietly. They would go into it one day, no doubt. But for now there was time to simply be. \n\n\"Hey,\" said the stranger. \"While we have the chance, let us share some stories. I'll tell you about the time I met a legend. He seemed a man, but had the strength of giants. His great Zwiehander housed the fires of chaos itself. But strangest of all, he had this sort of fatherly quality about him, you know? Rumor said he wasn't merely undead like you and me either. It was said he truly could never die...\" \n\nAnd so the time passed. ", "Chief took a quick glance behind him. He still couldn't understand why he'd left the shotgun behind for the Covenant plasma pistol. He had just felt an urge to pick it up and unleash almost all of it's charge on a nearby stone wall. \n\nHis fellow UNSC marines exchanged confused and scared looks among each other.\nChief stopped firing as the alien weapon overheated. He put it away and chambered the pistol he had hooked on his belt. The cicadas of the jungle buzzed in the jungle heat as a tense silence followed.\n\nChief couldn't move. He just wanted to stare at this nice stone wall, still glowing green from the numerous blasts of plasma unloaded into it. Marines jumped back, frightened as Chief took paces backward, bracing himself for something. He couldn't be more sure of what he wanted. He took off, running as fast as he could right at the wall. He didn't even think after slamming into it. \n\nShaking off chunks of wall material, Chief started punching the it, as if it was the first time he was aware he could do so. At this point the Marines had begun running away, this grabbed Chief's attention and he slowly turned around and strode up to one of the Officers.\n\nI like this guy. Thought Chief. I like his gun though. It looks cool. He suddenly grabbed the Officer's chest and shoved his face into his. \"I need your weapon soldier.\" He growled behind the helmet. \n\nAs the Officer shook the rifle free of it's sling he turned around to see Chief spinning as quickly as he could, followed by him lowering his gaze to and tossing a fragmentation grenade at the jungle floor directly beneath him. He never had another thought as he spun around, the grenade's loud explosion lowering his shields to critical levels. Still without thinking he had a sudden urge to toss another grenade on the floor. He threw another, and the last thing he heard before the detonation was a yell from someone he'd never heard before. \n\nBenny what the fuck get off the Xbox.", "Private John Roosevelt backed away slowly from his CO, Major Thompson was a pretty stand up troop, but he was sounding crazy at the moment to his young recruit. \"Not sure what you're talking about Major\" John said calmly \"maybe you just need a rest. It's been days since you slept and there isn't exactly a lot going on here.\" The Major was not taken aback by the privates reaction, he'd seen it a million times. \"You don't ever feel it? I do sometimes and its scary as hell man. Like right now, I can sense it coming - there hasn't been a serious attack in days - but I can guarantee we will see fire real soon Roosevelt, and you better run like hell from here\". Thompson spun to walk away, muttering just loud enough to sound crazy to anyone in earshot - \"Never fails, things are going so well and then boom ape shit city. Pull yourself together man!\"\n\nAs John watched him argue with himself, the screech of metal on metal near the front gate caught his attention. Could the Major be right? \"Come on man, its a war zone - of course there is gonna be attacks.\" Before he could react, a bullet tore through his shoulder and he could hear the fear in Major Thompson's voice as he screamed \"Dammit Roosevelt, I said run!\" John dove behind the burnt out shell of a truck, wondering how he'd been shot from behind, when a barrage of deafening fire burst from the direction of the Major. Desperate to save his CO, he sprang from cover just as the shooting stopped as suddenly as it began. \"Major? Are you hit sir?\" he screamed to the man as he appeared to go into shock from the pain. Before he could take another step, the unit medic grabbed him by the shoulder \"Down you idiot!\" he screamed as they dove behind the truck once more.\n\nJohn was arguing, attempting to free himself from the medic's grip so he could check on the boss. The medic whispered \"you don't wanna go out there son. I heard him empty his clip on the AR, but he still has a loaded pistol. Once he empties that we can go get him, not before - you get me? Peeking out around the truck bumper, he was amazed to see the major hunkered down on the balls of his feet - for some reason he was spinning circles and pulling the trigger on his empty rifle. \"What the hell...\" he managed to mutter before Thompson pulled the pin on a grenade - and simply held it in his hand. Roosevelt crouched behind the truck and waited for the explosion, which came a few short seconds later.\n\nThe medic didn't even go check, \"Hate it when that happens\" he said as he walked away. Before he got ten steps someone shouted to him about a captain that was just jumping up and down and a marine who was duck walking around reloading his rifle over and over. Roosevelt was about to ask how he could help, when the medic pegged him in the face with a first aid kit.", "Upon the hill the ruinous dark fell upon the castle. His tunic ruffled in the wind, a heavy sound like a flag before war. He held his sword and it glowed in the amber of the coming night. She was inside that castle, Zelda, as was Ganon.\n\n\nFrom across the field he galloped. Epona was strong and the wind passing by were voices of hurry, ghosts from the past and jeering from the future. Link did not talk much and he thought little but even he was unnerved. He had seen so much and he felt as if he had done so little. Time was going.\n\n\nLightning flashed in that crashing darkness. Fiends from the hills shot at him. Flaming arrows struck near, their brief crackle like a roar to his ears. Epona was experienced and she remained calm. She dodged them skillfully but there were too many.\n\n\nAn arrow singed Link. Near the cobblestone of the great Hyrule castle he fell. On his back he saw the dark clouds above, thunderous and heavy, pouring shadow into the only world he had ever really known. His thoughts were his own but they were distressed and dark.\n\n\nHe stood up with his sword in hand and readied for battle. The monsters came to him as they had for so many days now. He tensed and got ready to leap.\n\n\nThen his feet stumbled. His hands wavered from indecision and as though his sword was too much a burden, they fell and he rolled backwards. Epona reared and whinnied. More arrows came and some were true. An orange flame took the green and it looked like melting emeralds.\n\n\n\"You shield you idiot,\" he could imagine Midna, the enigmatic pest whom he traveled with, saying.\n\n\nIn the frenzy he wondered if he thought such things because he missed her and because he was afraid. Link had expected battle and he had expected to face Gannondorf but this seemed worse. The monsters surrounded and he could not reach his shield.\n\n\nOne came to bludgeon him and the mace struck his body and he stumbled and cried out. Finally his hands moved but he lept at nothing and he was exposed. An arrow to the back sent him sprawling.\n\n\nThe ground was earthy, muddy from being trampled, and as he looked ahead the blades of grass were like a forest and he felt lost. Behind the castled crackled from that strangling dark. Great thunder rolled and there was an evil presence.\n\n\nLink arose but he was quickly put down. He was near death. How often was he near death? This time he had something more than that cursory fear. The circle of monsters closed in and he closed his eyes and willed all the spirits that would listen. His sword in his left, he struck true and then again and again until one fell.\n \n\nThe others backed away but they had that vicious look about them and they looked at each other and Link knew what it meant. He still had not drawn his shield. He reached for it and his hands obeyed but it was the wrong shield. The wooden husk he drew became alight with fire and through the licks of flame it looked as if the whole world was burning.\n\n\n\"Ah,\" he screamed.\n\n\nThe shield disintegrated. The arrows were like artillery and he fell to his knees. A death alarm sounded in the distance. Beep, beep, beep. Link turned, exposing himself more and he looked at the castle. It loomed near.\n\n\nHe ran to its cobble, his knees trembling before falling again. He remembered Midna and her voice once more. Epona's song floated through his airs. His old village was a painting in his mind that was fading, being eaten by a hungry, unreachable past. The castle ahead was his goal but the memories hurt the most. \n\n\nThe Master Sword fell in a clatter. The shadow of death was cast long as they came over him. The final beeps whittled and then he knew it had all come to its end." ]	4
	[WP] The crystals that emerged from their eyes were beautiful. The screaming, on the other hand, wasn't.	[ "You know what they say - the eyes are the windows to the soul.\n\nIt's not quite accurate. Like any brazen thief, I use the eyes to steal people's souls. \n\nTake my latest batch ready for extraction. I've put the forceps in to keep the eyes open, and I start the process. It's a magical process. \n\nThe crystals that emerged from their eyes were beautiful. The screaming, on the other hand, wasn't.\n\nStill, hopefully my latest batch of crystals doesn't dry out too fast like last time. If they dry out too fast they form ugly shapes - not good for setting into jewellery. ", "Cordyceps.\n\nHave you ever heard of it? Among fungi, it’s quite famous, you know. People watch its spores seep into ants through their food and gasp and gag in horror as, unseen, it takes over the insect’s mind. It starts innocently enough: An ant suddenly—perhaps inexplicably, to its nest mates—develops an irresistible urge to climb the highest tree branch it can reach. Once there, it bites into the bark and never lets go. Even at the cost of its life.\n\nThey die up there, those ants, biting into something they can’t eat because some fungus in their brains told them to. And when their life force fades and the only thing left of them is their chitinous carcass, the stalks emerge. In any other setting, they would be beautiful, but there’s something so inherently wrong about seeing a pseudo-plant stem growing out the back of an organism’s head, through its back, through its eyes. Even if said organism is as lowly as an ant, the body horror we derive from such a sight is very palpable, and amplified by the inevitable extrapolation: What if it happened to us?\n\nIt couldn’t possibly happen to us, we told ourselves. Modern society had permitted us the luxury of being germophobes. We surrounded ourselves with walls both macro- and microscopic to keep as many invaders out as possible. Smallpox. Anthrax. Histoplasmosis. Malaria. None of that could touch us so long as their carriers were barred entry and our antimicrobials remained loaded. We sanitized anything and everything, and applauded the fact that we, for once, seemed to be winning against the microbes that some scientists claimed outnumbered us ten to one on our own bodies.\n\nBut microbes are nothing if not versatile; and though our wall-making had deprived them of their commonest mode of transmission, they swiftly found another.\n\nI know not how the first case of Crystalloceps developed. Perhaps some traveler from the jungles had unknowingly carried it into the US. But the disease was definitely of fungal origin: The scientists who held out longest could see, under their microscopes, clear evidence of chitinous walls and threadlike hyphae. Alarmingly, the threads resembled a fungus once thought confined to insects alone. But there was another source creature in there, something unexpected; for coiled around the base of each thread was an army of microbes whose cell walls were filled with something once found only in so-called extremophiles.\n\nSomehow, some way, Cordyceps had teamed up with Archaea to thrive on metal walls, much like algae and fungi form lichens to survive in low-nutrient environs. Some pathway they’d evolved had granted them the ability to digest solid steel. But Crystalloceps wasn’t picky: it could digest concrete, asphalt, carbon fiber… and there in its last known food source lies the horror. For, you see, Crystalloceps hadn’t given up its ancestors’ taste for the organic. Not in the slightest.\n\nAlthough we sprayed ourselves and our companions with antimicrobials almost religiously, we’d neglected to do the same to our walls. After all, all life is carbon-based. It couldn’t possibly survive on inorganic materials, right? We relaxed our vigil near our antimicrobial sprays and walls, especially the biggest and thickest wall surrounding our capital city. Several even embraced it, claiming that thanks to it, we could finally be free of the vile plagues that scarred our past.\n\nThese wall-huggers were the first to succumb. And they did not at all go quietly.\n\nIt began with an uncomfortable itching sensation near the point of contact. A simple rash, nothing more. Without diseases to kill us, most chalked it up to simple allergic reactions and thought little more about it. But then came the stiffness, as if the blood in one’s limbs was being steadily replaced by lead. Some thought they were merely overworked; others thought it the result of some long-delayed hangover. But despite their growing sense of fatigue, some of these patients inexplicably developed an urge to go rock-climbing. “Exercise is good for me, after all,” they claimed; “and I want to see the world beyond this wall.” \n\nI could not argue with the former. Civilization had been steadily getting heavier as the years progressed, and exercise was crucial for getting, and keeping, the excess weight off. But to see beyond the great wall? We’d built it some thirty, forty meters high. I doubt even the Olympians could have climbed so far in one go.\n\nThat didn’t stop a whole new industry from opening up in record time to sate these newly adventurous folks. Handholds were carved into a section of the wall, along with lifts to carry the passengers up to the top. For weeks, people flocked to these Beyond the Wall tours. What I found oddest of all was the fact that very few of them had return tickets—at least, according to the lift scanners.\n\nAfter yet another day’s worth of patients decided to not show, I decided to journey there myself to see what was going on. It was a professional concern, no more. Unlike them, I had no pressing need to see the wall; thus, I had no reason to not purchase or use a return trip. About halfway up, I noticed the lift crew become unusually chatty; but the more animated their talk, the more feverishly their eyes darted about, like those of frightened deer. It was almost as if they were afraid of seeing something appear that they’d seen before, but never hoped to revisit again.\n\nAnd then I heard it. A distant scream from somewhere atop the wall.\n\nI recognized the voice as one of my patients’. True, it was harsh and raspy like someone with a bad head cold, but it was there all the same. … No, it wasn’t quite the same. Something about it sounded inherently inhuman. Bestial, even. Fear and worry overtook me as I sprinted along the edge of the wall, heedless of the lift crew’s cries. And then I saw it.\n\nHe was lying prostrate, arms locked in a death-hug around a section of the wall. His clothes were torn, and I could see nothing of the feet behind him. Indeed, his lower body seemed to be encased in some sort of cloudy crystal… and when I looked again, so were his eyes.\n\nFor a moment, I could do nothing but stand there in shock, my gut roiling at the sight before me. There was something eerily beautiful about the crystals; each face of them was perfectly-shaped and shone like the finest cut gems. The ones about his lower body resembled half a geode, such that I was briefly struck with the thought that if I could simply cut it away and crack it, his legs, and therefore he, would be freed. Even the ones stabbing through his eyes were beautiful in their own way, like snail stalks but scintillating, again, like gems. Such an amazing sight, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d seen something like it before. But where? … Regardless, had I found these gems in an underground mine, I would have been tempted to ask my guide for a pick to take a piece home with me. But this was no precious mineral cache: This was a human body.\n\nThat was when it occurred to me: The crystalline growths looked identical in shape to the fuzzy green stalks I’d seen growing out of ant carcasses so long ago. \n\nCordyceps had evolved; and in doing so, it jumped the species barrier.\n\nThe broken man below me screamed again, and his back arched far back enough to snap. Pinned as his limbs were to the metal wall, he could not lift them to relieve the strain. Indeed, I heard a sickening crack, the same as I’d heard in the ER long ago when my attending intentionally broke bones to facilitate an operation. I imagine if he still had his pupils, they would have rolled back into his head; but as it was, the crystalline eyestalks seemed to grow longer; the geode thicker; the shorter spines in his back wider. His scream seemed to last for eternity; but eventually, it died a long-suffering death, and the top of the wall was plunged into silence once more.\n\nA long time passed before I realized that someone had put a hand on my shoulder. Numbly, I turned around. It was one of the lift crew, regarding me with a look of tragic sympathy. “He asked to come up here three days ago,” he said. “He was already wheezing, moving slowly from the effects of fungus within him. I knew if he came up here, he would never come back down, but he insisted. Even stole the lift and rode it up here. By the time my fellows and I made it up, he was already locked in his death’s-grip. … They take the blood first, you know,” he added, after a pause. “The fungus, I mean. That’s why you don’t see any of it spilled on the ground. Ever.”\n\nShuddering, the lift man pointed at the dead man’s mouth, still bared towards the sky in an eternal scream. “Somehow,” he said, “the bug didn’t get his jaw. Most times, it glues their mouths down so that no one can hear them scream. People like him are the unlucky ones… but then again, this entire wall is a shrine to the unlucky.”\n\nSomething compelled me to turn, to take in the entirety of the precipice on which we stood. In the distance, I could see many more misshapen lumps, some flush against the wall like cocoons, others arched towards the sky in a silent scream. Every one of them had those damning crystals piercing through their eyes, a window to the horror inside.\n\nWe stood there together for a long moment, doctor and lift worker atop the anti-microbial wall. And as we watched, the sun dipped down, blanketing the sky in red the color of the life force stolen from us by the Crystalloceps.\n\n---\n\nBio major strikes again. Sue me.\n\nI knew I had to write about Cordyceps the moment I read this, but I'm not used to horror writing. I hope it works. The wall exists in minor part to current politics, but mostly so I could give Crystalloceps something to compel humans to climb up. No, I was not directly inspired by Last of Us.\n\nFeedback is always welcome, especially since everything I've written for this sub so far is so different from my normal. Thanks for reading!" ]	2
	[WP] By pure chance you have written a document that could ensure world peace. Only problem is, you used Comic Sans.	[ "It was something I didn't think about. Some essay for English composition about how, if I could, I'd make the world a better place. And I pulled it out of my ass too at the last minute. That's not to say I wasn't proud of it, or that I'm bragging about it, but it literally was put together over the course of a few hours on a Sunday night. And I still managed a B+ on it. Not bad for a math major. \n\nThe next day I go in and hand it over to Mrs. Berkowitz. She looks at it and laughs and then puts it on the pile. Kinda hurt my feelings a little bit from the way she did it, but what are you gonna do. That same day the scores updated and I'm sitting there happy with my B+. All good.\n\nTwo weeks later I get a call from the head of the department asking me to show up to his office. I get there and he tells me that the university submitted my paper to a contest started by the UN. \n\n\"What paper?\" I ask half stunned and half confused.\n\n\"The paper you submitted for your English Comp class,\" he says.\n\n\"Oh thank you,\" I say, internally thinking that'd been turned into cat litter. What else could I say? Then he says that if my paper wins the contest the president of the UN will read it to a conference of nations and I could get a meeting with him and all this other shit. \"Cool,\" I say. I'm not one to be super enthusiastic about stuff like this, but I genuinely thought it was a cool thing.\n\n\"You'll fly up to New York next week where the top finalists are gathered. And he'll go over each of the three papers in front of you.\" Oh great, I think, just what I need in my life, a healthy dose of extreme anxiety. But I do it anyways. If they found something of substance maybe the paper was worth something. So I went. \n\nI show up and they put me in this room where two other scholar-types from Harvard and William and Mary are sitting there all pompous and mighty. All I want to do is get this over with and run straight for the hills.\n\nFinally, the president of the UN, gasp, goes and sits over at this long table in front of us. Secretaries of a bunch of departments to his side, like mini-bosses you have to defeat before you get to the final boss. There's really no organization. Everyone is just reading the papers, grading them, and commenting among each other. And then as they start reading one of the papers they start laughing. Passing this paper around and they're laughing, audibly. So naturally I start laughing. And the other two at my side are looking at me like I'm an idiot. Little do they know that I'm laughing because I'm actually crying inside because I just realized that the paper they're reading is the same paper I submitted. Folds and creases and all wrinkled to hell. Nobody bothered to update it as it went up the food-chain. They couldn't even bother to type it out in a new sheet. All I'm thinking is, there's a window, forty stories is not such a bad drop. But like the champ I am, I stick it out.\n\n\"Which one of you is Eric?\" the president asks us.\n\n\"Um... I am sir. Mr. president. Your honor...\"\n\n\"This is an exceptional paper, young man. You are a great satirist,\" he says.\n\n\"Thanks?\" Satirist? I'm thinking. \n\n\"Your use of Comic Sans type-font was a stroke of pure genius. It adds a whole new level of depth to the problems facing our world and your unique view on how to solve them.\"\n\nI'm smiling from ear to ear. \"Unfortunately,\" oh oh. \"We can't use satire in a formal setting, but now I see why your paper was chosen. And for this reason we will publish it in our website as a cautionary tell of hilarious proportions.\" \n\nThis is the sentence he used, the president of the UN, 'hilarious proportions'. Then he goes on. \"And if you are interested, as a consolation prize, for lack of a better word, we offer you a job here at the UN as an intern.\"\n\nHell yeah! I'm screaming inside. \n\n\"I'm... elated,\" I say. \"Thank you, Mr. President.\"\n\nTwo months later the China and the U.S. go to war just like I predicted. Oh well, I got a job and a B+ which is more than I wanted. Moral of the story, if you want to sound serious never use Comic Sans. Otherwise you'll thrust the world into war.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n " ]	1
	[WP] You are a super genius vigilante who always has a plan for everything and can constantly out think anyone. One day you meet your match: a petty thief who's gifted with random luck and clumsiness. You have made it your sole duty to take him down . . . Somehow.	[ "\"Sorry!\" he calls out, offering a grin as he stumbles from the scene of the heist. My heist. Everything was planned perfectly. I was about to shake the jeweler's hand, slipping off his diamond ring that would feed me for the next two years. \n\nBut of course, somehow, this blond-haired, wide-eyed beginner who hasn't stolen a thing in his life, has just stumbled into the jeweler. And now his ring is missing. \n\nIt becomes suddenly clear to me that he wasn't apologizing to the jeweler. \n\nRevenge. Step one, watch him silently. Make sure he never knows you exist. Learn how he does what he does, then use it against him. \n\nOne problem. Neither of us know what he's doing. \n\nI watch him through an angled mirror, positioned so that he can't see me from 98% of the viewpoints he could take on as he wanders aimlessly though the streets. \n\nHe seems to be performing a heist, but there's no exit plan, no tactic. There are guards at the four cross sections of the street, hundreds of eye witnesses, and frankly the heist he's attempting is just impractical. he baker doesn't even seem to care that his entire third shelf is suddenly empty, and a man with a bandana leaking croissants is meandering through the town square. \n\nThe baker starts to call out as he finally notices. Now they're both running. Where on earth is he...\n\n\"MY BAD!\" he calls out, stumbling through the hay and landing face down in front of me. \"Croissant?\" he looks up at me with a sincere grin. So much for step one. \n\n\"What the hell do you think you're doing?\" I hiss, replacing the bricks I have carefully arranged as the guards run past us, oblivious to my well-calculated hiding place. \n\n\"Are you... Were you watching me?\" he exclaims, as though I owe him some sort of explanation. \"You were watching me! Oh my it seems I have a fan..\" \n\n\"Don't flatter yourself,\" I mutter, \"You just got lucky.\" \n\n\"Oh, I know,\" he says cheerily, brushing himself off and exiting the lookout station I crafted. \n\n\"You know?\" I inquire, standing up with him. \n\n\"Oh yeah, sure. Life owes me a favor,\" he replies. He jumps on crates of fruit, balancing precariously but never falling. \"Here, walk with me. Life is easier when you're with me.\" He extends his arm to me and I reluctantly take it. \"Name?\" \n\n\"Vivian. Vivian Lastier.\" \n\n\"Peter Valdrin.\" We're about ten feet off the ground. I've learned every nook and cranny in the village. I know each shopkeeper's pattern of setting up, closing down. All of their schedules, loves, hates, tells, and secrets. I could close my eyes and tell you where every thief, merchant, politician, and enemy is at this exact second. \n\n\"None of that matters, though,\" Peter comments lightly.\n\n\"...Excuse me?\" I exclaim. \n\n\"I know what you're thinking. You want to know how I do it,\" he sings. I'm stunned for a moment. He runs his fingers through his hair and looks back at me. \"I've seen you around. People say you're real clever. It doesn't matter though.\" \n\n\"Why not?\" I look up at him as he extends his hand and pulls me onto the roof. \n\n\"Life doesn't give a damn what you plan.\" \n\nHe chuckles softly, but I hear something bitter behind it. His hand is still laced in mine. \n\n\"It's true,\" he continues, \"That's why I've stopped trying.\"\n\nWe both lay back against the roof. Being up here is illegal, but I feel myself enjoying his attitude towards life. \n\n\"You'd make a good partner, you know,\" I comment. \n\nPeter turns his head towards me, \"We'd be an unstoppable team.\" \n\n\"You're right,\" We both sit up and look down at the town below us. They don't stand a chance.\n\nHe laughs, \" Lucky and clever.\" We look at each other for a moment and shake hands. We hear the guards yelling.\n\n Peter puts his arm around me for a moment and whispers, \"I'll find you when I do.\" \n\nUngracefully, he leans off the roof, falling twenty feet down. \"Peter!\" I call out, looking down in a panic as he plummets. Of course, he lands perfectly in a pile of soft hay. He winks and disappears into the crowd. \n\nI walk along the edge of the rooftop for a moment longer before climbing down, prepared to let Peter find me. \n\nI see an empty door with a weak lock along the side of the road, and decide to give my lockpicking skills a little refreshment.\n\nReaching in my pocket to retrieve the picks, my heart stops for a second. I look around with a mixture of anger and amusement. \n\nThat son of a bitch stole my wallet. " ]	1
	[WP] Write a story where the narrator could really use a thesaurus, as he constantly uses inappropriate words to describe things.	[ "The loss of my parents was the single worst thing I had ever authorised. ^^authorised ^^here ^^means ^^experienced ^^or ^^saw. However, in their intrusive deaths, my life became a lot more inadvertent ^^which ^^is ^^a ^^grown-up ^^way ^^of ^^saying ^^complicated ^^and ^^rotund.\n\nMy family owned a large plot in the cemetery in which my parents were deposited. Due to the prior nature and extension of our relations, our plot tyrannised an entire corner of the graveyard. However, although I remain the only vestigial member of my once-paramour line, I was forced to place my parents’ coffins one atop the other like they were wooden bays of hale. The reason for this was simpleton: the lightning bolt which had redacted my mother and father had confused their bodies into a single charred blob ^^blob ^^here ^^means ^^blob-like ^^or ^^blobbish. ^^My ^^parents ^^resembled ^^someone’s ^^attempt ^^to ^^barbeque ^^jelly.\n\nThere was no conceptual way to separate them. Thus, as they were joined in life, so to were they amalgamated in death. Once this groomish business was Finnish-T, I returned to my empty home. This was nothing new to me. My home was always empty as I did not live with my parents nor did I see them more than frice a year.\n\nAs I neared my dorsal door, I noted that the glass in my living room window had been creased. Was there someone inside waiting for me?\n", "He bopped the guy good. A couple of times. Bop bop bop.\n\nThe bopped guy was getting wet. He was very not happy.\n\nThe guy who bopped him started laughing but not in a happy way. He told the bopped guy he was very not happy with him. He seemed sad but also mad but also tired. He told him he was supposed to be the right guy. \n\nThere was red stuff splashing around them.\n\nThe bopped guy couldn't get up because he'd been bopped hard enough that his parts came off. He started laughing but not happy laughing.\n\nThe guy who bopped him went inside the air bus and went away to go hide.\n\nThe bopped guy got help from his not nice friend and got black stuff to cover everywhere on him and now he likes to be called Vader.\n\n------------\n\nThe only scenario I could think of for some reason. Lol" ]	2
	[WP] It turns out that the best kingdom to live in is the one ruled by the Lich King.	[ "\"So.\" The old man spoke with a voice stronger than his feeble frame would suggest. \"You wish to know where best to make your home?\"\n\nThe young man at the opposite side of the table nodded. \"You were an adventurer once, were you not? You must have seen far away lands.\" His eyes pleaded. \"I merely ask if you know where a man like myself can find himself a life.\"\n\nThe old man considered this for a second. Hooded eyes tracing invisible patterns across the table, as he thought, slowly pondering. \"There is, in my experience, no greater joy in life than helping others,\" The old man broke into a crooked smile, \"as those you help are often more willing to buy you lunch.\" He said, nudging the younger man, who broke out into his own, considerably more nervous, smile.\n\n\"Of course! It's the least I can do for your generous help. No-one else in the village has ever left.\" The man said as he waved for a bar maid.\n\nThe old man's smile never wavered as he spoke. \"Are you quite certain you wish to leave? This little village is calm, peaceful, without trouble or danger. You have family... friends.\" The old man tapped his cane to emphasize his point. \"In all my time adventuring, I was not as happy as I am now. Spending my days drinking and farming. It's not a bad life.\"\n\nThe younger man wriggled in his seat. \"Certainly. It's not a bad life.\" The younger man paused, before quickly rushing to correct himself. \"It's a perfectly good life!\" \n\n\"But you wish for something more?\" \n\nThe young man started to say something, but caught himself before he did. \"Well, yes, I suppose.\" He said carefully. \"Not that I...\"\n\nThe old man waved his hand to dispel the younger mans concern. \"There's nothing from than wanting something more than this. It's perfectly natural.\" \n\n\"So? Will you help me?\" \n\n\"Of course!\" The old man laughed, deep and thunderous, but quickly tapering off into sputtering and coughing. \"I said I would didn't I?\" The older man produced an old manila map from a deep coat pocket, spreading it over the old wooden table, weighing down the edges of the map with half empty mugs of ale. \n\n\"Alright.\" The old man cracked his knuckles, and placed rested his hands on either side of the map. \"So let's see... where's best to live...\"\n\n\"It should be safe.\" The young man spoke, his voice quite, unwilling to annoy the older man.\n\n\"Of course. No man should raise a family with danger lurking around every corner.\" The older man rubbed his chin as he inspected his map, wrinkles catching against grey-white bristle. \"Well, that puts most of the northern cities and villages off the table.\" He traced his finger along the northern side of the map. \"And the eastern cities and villages would be too far to get a caravan.\" He went on to trace his finger across the eastern side of the map. \n\n\"It'd need to be a place where I could get work.\" The younger man offered, growing slightly bolder. \"I don't mind, so long as there's something I could do.\"\n\n\"Of course, of course.\" The older man waved his hand as if casting a magic spell. \"T'would be foolish to run off if you couldn't make a life for yourself.\" The old man drummed his fingers against the bar table. \"Though that doesn't rule many places out. There's nowhere that couldn't make use of a young lad like yourself.\"\n\nThe old man slowly raised one of the mugs to his lips, sipping the contents. \"The way I see it is\" He sighed as he sat down. \"your best bet\" The old man tapped the city name on the map. \"Is Plutopia.\" \n\n\"Plutopia?\" The younger man sputtered. \"I've heard stories about it! Isn't it the city of the dead? Ruled by the immortal Lich King?\" \n\n\"Well, city of the dead seems a bit rude, but other than that, you're quite right.\"\n\n\"I heard they eat the flesh of the living, and maraud the surrounding villages for tithes!\" \n\n\"Well, by that logic, so does the kingdom of Gagary.\" The old man put down his drink. \"They're collecting taxes. In exchange for providing protection, and manual labour, they collect a percentage of the gold or crops that the smaller villages produce. And the way I here it is that it's considerably fairer than some.\" The old man laughed. \"And I don't know who told you that they eat the flesh of the living. The undead don't eat at all, and certainly not the flesh of the living.\"\n\nThe younger man seemed less panicked, but was still not certain. \"But don't they preform dark magic rituals, and raise the dead.\" \n\nThe old man tipped his head. \"You're quite right there. They do preform dark magical rituals, and they do raise the dead. But there's nothing necessarily wrong with that. Honestly, it saves them a lot of trouble. No-one needs to tend the fields or go to war when the dead can do it for you. Not to say that there aren't opportunities for a young lad. Many necromancers would take on an apprentice like yourself.\" \n\nThe poor young man seemed to be quite frazzled with the sudden turn in conversation. A few minutes earlier, he was considering going off to some big city and becoming a day trader, now he was being told to go become a necromancer? \"But isn't it evil to raise the dead?\"\n\n\"Not really. I've seen evil men, and trust me, that Lich is not an evil man.\" The old man continued to sip his beverage. \"Quite the opposite in fact. I suppose in death he's gained quite the appreciation for life. Ironic really.\" The man paused to stare into the middle distance, before continuing. \"As far as I can tell, Plutopia would fill all your criteria. It's safe, not too far away, and there's work.\"\n\n\"But...\"\n\n\"But nothing.\" The old man said, finally. \"Plutopia is a damned sight better than some. In all my time adventuring, you know the one place our mage didn't get odd looks on the street? Plutopia. The one place that always paid us fairly for our work? Plutopia. The people there are kind, the streets are clean, and crime is basically unknown. Magic is embraced, and advanced.\" The man placed his now empty mug carefully back on the table. \"You can't ask for fairer than that.\"\n\nThe younger man began to speak, before being interrupted by the sudden arrival of the bar maid. \n\n\"Now,\" The old man's smile returned to his face. \"you can buy me lunch, and I'll tell you how to get there.\"\n" ]	1
	[WP] Humanity has always accepted but never understood the need for sleep. A researcher studying REM sleep unwitting discovers processing power is siphoned off during sleep. What could use so much power?	[ " Her chest rose and fell heavy. Slowly, over the last hour she became more rhythmic, her infrequent fidgets became more subtle. Until at last, Diana was sleeping. Truly sleeping. Sleep washed over her like a boulder being drug into the ocean by deep breathing waves, back and forth, back and forth, submerging her conscious mind, subduing her senses, unstrapping her muscles, stealing the voltage from her nerves. \n\nAlan watched every moment of her journey into that great sea of rest. Fascinated by the ability of the body to surrender, so habitually, to her quiet and peaceful master. Tonight, like so many nights before be marked the time, placed it in his data sheet and began to monitor his screen as her transition to REM sleep was finally being recognized on the monitoring equipment. 22:37.\n\nAs he did most nights, Alan paid close attention to her eyes, her eyelids specifcally, watching as those thin sheets of soft flesh bulged from one corner to the next, erratically pulsing as her body remained motionless. Diana began to fidget, very slowly moving a leg, then turning to her side. HE could not be sure but certainly she would be dreaming soon. \nDecade of research into REM sleep had allowed him the special skill of being able to see the process of dreaming begin, with all its nuance. In his private thoughts he felt he could somehow intuit the onset of dreaming at this point, he felt he could sense the dream enter the room 'but where is it coming from?' he often ended his thought there. \n\nHi official position on dreaming was that dreams were the result of remnant neural activity needing to process images and sounds from a mind that had not been fully interpreted, he spent decade researching this theory, convincing universityies to let him explore this idea further. All the while he knew that this was not entirely true, his own dreams, lucid and fixed, had given him his own hypotheses, and he was determined to see them disproved, he could only hope. \n \nDiana's hand hit the headboard. A reflexive motor function she had many nights. She never complained or mentioned remembering it after each study. She simply attributed it to a impulsive action. Alan suggested she wear gloves, or maybe strap the hand down for safety, she insisted it be overlooked, she was fine and the habit wasn't bothering her. Alana obliged. \n\nHe watched as the hand slumped slowly down to her shoulder, resting on her soft hair. Alan had seen this so many times before, every time he fought the impulsive thoughts that ran through his mind, all pointing to a undeniable fact in his mind: she was divinely beautiful as she slept. \n\nPulling his thoughts from the depths of her luscious brown cascading hair, he turned back to his monitor. Lines danced across the screen to indicate that in fact her brain activity indicated that she was in a dream state. 'Finally' he thought 'she can let me in.'\n\nA second monitor lit up, hazy glows engulfed the screen, black with clouds of red, jagged edges of green and yellow filtering in slowly like geometrical mist becoming more apparent as more colors overwhelmed the blackness of the screen. He alone secured the funding for these monitors. Decades of grants, proposals, experiments, and secrecy had gifted him the privilege of seeing these misty colors light up a computer monitor. \n\n(part 2 later)\n" ]	1

Subsets and Splits

No community queries yet

The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.