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[WP] Reaching paradise after you die isn't about how good you were or if you sinned. All that matters is if you pass the test.
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"It was described like a Rorschach Blot test only the cards were either all black or all white. She asked me to 'describe what I saw' on the card. She, Linda, the Senior Assistant Assistant to Saint Peter, who, for lack of clarity was no where to be found. Neither was the Senior Assistant to Peter. When she introduced herself to me, she left her hand out to shake but, asked not to touch her just 'mock' the shake... Something about germs, in the afterlife, apparently, peoples neurosis carry-over like a birthmark left on the soul. Or perhaps a neurosis is the carry over of the soul in the body, or both or I don't know what the fuck I'm saying but what have you...\n\nI mocked the 'hand-shake', Linda, the Senior Assistant Assistant sat down on the pleather beige couch across the Ikea designed coffee table that had USWeekly, National Geographic and something about Apps to download, like a pan-flit. I didn't have my cell but maybe the Apps pertain only to those who get the 'Green Card' to pass over. Yeah, she called it a 'Green Card'... I was yet again, testing for a Green Card, side note: I'm Icelandic but I was born (before I died) in New Jersey during a time in which my mother was dating this guy named Marcos, who for what I was told, was some kind of Military Chemical- Engineer who moved around a lot because he had some shit he sold to Canada that was classified at the time. Something that made it hard to trace alcohol on one's breath. Anyway...\n\n\"Badger?\" Linda asked unsure, my name she meant...\n\n\"Yeah...\", I responded. I can always tell when someone has that thought about my name, they always look back at the name on the paper, like the name was going to suddenly read 'just kidding' ...\n\n\" How was your trip?\" Linda smiled. Is this a joke? Or did I miss something? \n\n\"Trip?\" I asked. Linda smiled some more. She didn't or did she ever in the fifteen minutes we were together in that room, that God awfully lit room with the fucking beige couch and that coffee table, and pictures of what looked like Motivational Posters framed on the walls, clarify her thoughts. I'm not sure if this was just her, or this was protocol... But fucking-a, its stressful. \n\n\"I-uh-well-okay, so I was in the pool, and I remember the pool, and I dove in and then I heard this noise, like a 'click' noise and then I saw my mom's vagina, no joke, then I saw Jackie who I lost my virginity to at the abandoned morgue down the street from my Aunt's house, and then I was outside waiting in the line, outside here... that, that's all I remember...\", I trailed off, some postmortem-amnesia syndrome. That's Linda's assessment.\n\n\"Well, Badger, you died. In that pool.' Linda stopped, she smiled again. \n\nA slight but what felt like about three hours worth of an awkward pause before I said anything, \" Um, how did I die exactly?\" I asked.\n\nLinda, still smiling, pulled out the blank black and white cards. She set them on top of the Us Weekly...\n\n\" Well, the moment you dove into the pool,the Telephone wire had disconnected precisely when you dove in, and needless to say the Telephone wire slingshot into the pool, that click noise, was the very first second of contact. You fried for a good thirty minutes before your girlfriend came out to find you...\". Linda still smiling...\n\nI, me, shocked, angry, baffled and then... Wait, that's right! The fucking Telephone wire in the backyard, the one I've been yelling at my landlord about... Jesus fucking Christ, it actually happened... my girlfriend by the way was the reason I moved back to America, but as far away from Jersey I could afford, Nevada.\n\n\"I see...\" I said in regards to Linda's 'death synopsis'. I started biting my nails again. Linda reached over to grab the Cards. she held them in her hands, toying with them with her acrylic nails. \n\n\"Badger, here we have a test, a simple but important test. No, there's no Libra Scale or judgement passed or any sort of Indoctrinated Process of God's criteria for permissible souls, just a test. We're not very fundamental. More academic if anything. The test, I have in my hand, goes like this: I hold up a card and you tell me what you see. Understand?\" Linda, smiling...\n\n\"Rorschach? Right?\" , I asked, Linda smiling and nodding... \"Okay, shoot...\". Linda shuffled the cards and then held one up.\n\nI stared at it, I wasn't sure if she was pulling a fast one.\n\n\"It's blank. Its just all white...\" I said. \n\n\"Is that what you see?\" Linda asked. \n\n\"Oh, wait that's the card?? I thought--\", Linda turned down the card and held up a new one, another all blank white one. \n\n\"That wasn't my answer though...that was a question.\" I said firmly. My soul was at stake. These cards meant everything. And Linda just keeps smiling... She wiggled the card before me, as if to keep me on track and to avoid backtracking or explaining anything, which I now know, Linda is a master at.\n\n\"Uh-Uh- a toothpaste!\" I blurted out. Toothpaste? I didn't even see that. It just came up. Linda turns down the card, holds up another, blank but black card.\n\n\"uh-uh-uh a pumpkin with, uh, no, shit...\" I'm failing, I know it. Linda turns down the card. Another...\n\n\"fuck me, a fucking uh-I don't know, Linda, its all black!\" I'm definitely going to hell. She turns down the card, and again, another...\n\n\"uh--uh-oh,oh a bike. A god damn bike.\" I say, Linda smiles, turns down the card, yet another...\n\n\"uh, you know, a pair of titties, I mean why not?\" I'm just throwing this shit away, Sorry soul, I'm so sorry, I mean what do want from me? I tried. I really did... Linda holds up another...\n\nI stare at this one, longer than the others, I suddenly feel like I may still have a shot at redemption, \" Jesus Christ on the cross\". Okay, I'm definitely becoming Satan's cock bitch.\n\nLinda gathers all the cards. she writes notes down on the back of one of them. She then puts the small bundle in her pocket. \n\n\"Well, Badger, now I just need to bring this data to the office and I'll be with you shortly...\" Linda turns to go but not before smiling as she does. I watch Linda walk the thirty feet from the beige couch to the rustic door...\n\nMy foot is dancing, my nails are down to slivers and I just keep thinking about that Telephone pole back home.\n\nedited for spelling and length."
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[WP] As you wake up with blurry memories from a night of heavy drinking, you hear the doctor ask "How the hell did ya end up here?" with a thick Mexican accent. From the hospital window you manage to see a sign with the word "Tijuana" written with big neon letters. You live in Canada.
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"27 october 2016, the day after my wife was cheating on me. I felt something break my heart and crush it. I think this is really painfull for me. The wife that i really love cheat, tonight on this day with unfriendly weather. I go to marry's cafe she is my childhood friend and i consider her as my sister. I met her and I tell what was happen to me. I drink, drink, and drink till i drunk and then i fly until i felt and met the doctor in tijuana hospital.",
"\"Tequila,\" you reply with some disbelief. \nThe doctor leaves the room without a word. As you take in your surroundings, trying to piece together the fragments of the night, he returns with two tall shot glasses with clear liquid. He hands one to you. \n\"Tequila!\" He shouts with a smile. \nYou both drink and laugh. You are now friends. \nThe end. ",
"\"What...the hell?\" I mumbled to myself, waking up in some crappy hotel. Some kind of movie was playing on the easily 30\"+ TV laying beside me in the bed.\n\n\"Sorry, time to die Juan!\" one of the actors screamed in a drunken slurred fake rage. Mouthed gunshot noises filled the hotel room out as a finger-gun shoot out scene played out. \n\nAs the shock and confusion of my situation settled down enough for me to actually act again, I tried moving a bit to get a better grasp of what was going on. To my horror I instantly became suddenly aware I was very damp. The fluid didn't smell so I chose not to question it any further. Clothes on (including my shoes), wallet check, keys check...CRAP no phone! I threw off the blankets the TV and I were so nicely snuggled hoping to find it somewhere in the bed. \n\nMy eye's darted around as I threw around pillows and sheets, but no phone. I did find at least 5 fast food receipts though. \n\n\"And that was a Brian and company production!\" These words came out of the TV and struck me like a shock to the brain. That was my voice! The video cut off and I inspected the TV closer. \n\nA small cord was sticking out of the usb port and trailed behind the bed. A wave of relief. I found my phone, undamaged and fully charged! I mumbled a quick, \"Thank god.\" I didn't have the courage to look through for clues just yet. \n\nOne shower, one free continental breakfast, along with some post bender and I was ready to take on the world! ok, I was still feeling like 72 kilos of crap but I was ready to unravel the mystery of just what the hell happened yesterday. Flipping through picture after picture, text after text, I learned two things. My boss really knows how to throw an office party and I won't be able to pass a drug test for a while.\n\n",
"\"How the hell did ya end up here?\" the man who was standing beside my bed asked, his hand scribbling on a clipboard. His voice was thick with a Mexican accent, something that I have only heard of in television.\n\n\"Canada, eh?\" He continued, as my eyes adjusted myself to my surrounding. The contents of my head was still swimming around. A fan spun slowly above me, doing nothing to dispel the hot and dry air that pricked my skin. Outside of the window beside my bed, a large arrow was emblazoned with the words Tijuana.\n\n\"Ca...na... da?\" I slowly repeated after the doctor. My head was still trying to piece together what happened the past night. \n\n\"Sí, señor, says right here on your ID,\" the doctor said, as he passed me a blue card. I took and studied it. It was my photo, my name, Michael Wong. But I was not from Canada. I have never been to Canada in my entire life.\n\nThe last thing I remembered was walking into an office in Singapore.\n\n(Sorry in a rush, will continue this later) ",
"\"T-I-J-U-A-N-A\" the sign read. \"TIJUANA.\"\n\nI raised my eyebrows. My head was as sore as a kicked testicle. I've never been to Tijuana. Well, not until now.\n\n\"How the hell did you end up here?\" the dark-eyed man in the white coat asked.\n\n\"Water?\", I asked. He handed me a flask. I sat up and glugged it down. Yes, yes. That was as sweet as any kiss I've had in my entire life.\n\n\"My name is Dr. Alvarez\", he replied.\n\nThe sun was dazzling me. I looked about. On the horizon, I glimpsed the golden dirt of the desert. Dusty green cacti and tumbleweeds. The desert. This is Mexico. Mexico.\n\nI laid back in the bed. I had an IV line in my arm.\n\n\"You tell me how I ended up here, doc.\" I suggested.\n\n\"Amigo, they found you wandering in the desert. Wearing a gas mask and a hazmat suit.\" My eyes narrowed. \"You were severely dehydrated. And talking some strange babble about aliens.\"\n\n\"Aliens?\" I asked. Nothing was clear. What did I do last night? I was working at the lab, with Dr. Serafinowicz. Working on an Ebola vaccine. I scratched my head.\n\n\"And then when they brought you in, you shit the bed.\"\n\n\"Shit the bed?\" I asked. \n\n\"Yeah. You kept screaming 'I can't remember what they said to me.'\"\n\n\"Can I make a phone call?\" I asked. Alvarez handed me his iPhone. I noticed the date. \"The 24th of February?\" I asked. \"Last I knew it was December 22nd. I was in Toronto.\" \n\nAlvarez shrugged. I dialled Dr. Serafinowicz. The call went to voicemail. I handed the phone back.\n\n\"I have no idea why I'm here, doc.\" I replied. \"Last I know I was in Toronto. In December.\"\n\n\"Well, maybe it will come back\", Alvarez replied. \"Give it some time. You're safe here.\"\n\nHe walked back to the other end of the ward, to speak with the nurses. The ward was nearly empty. There were only two other patients, an elderly woman with scraggly grey hair, and a very fat man with a bushy moustache.\n\nI sipped at the water bottle. Some Spanish cable news channel was drawling in the background.\n\n\"El brote de Ebola en Washington D.C. continúa empeorando. 63 muertes confirmadas, con 24 nuevos casos durante la noche\".\n\nI gasped.\n\n\"63 confirmed deaths, with 24 new cases overnight?\"",
"\"So, would you mind explaining to me how you got here?\"\n\nHis head pounded with each word that left the doctors mouth. \"Doc... can we turn down the lights a little bit? Please?\"\n\nThe doctor just shook his head as he reached over to the light switch. The only lighting in the room now was that of the morning sun being filtered through the curtains of the window. \"Now then... What kind of wild party did you have last night?\"\n\nThe man looked up from the bed that he had crashed on. He remembered in his drunken stupor thinking it was his own, but as he gazed about the room, nothing of his surroundings looked familiar. \"Where am I?\"\n\nThe doctor calmly stood up from his chair and opened the window curtains to reveal an old, unlit neon sign just outside the room. \"Son, you are south of the border.\"\n\nThe man retracted from the sudden burst of light. The room spun slightly, and his head felt like sledgehammers pounding, trying to get out of his skull. \"South of the border? You mean I'm in America?\" All the while, he was trying to focus on the letters outside his room.\n\n\"No, no, no. Further South.\"\n\n\"Oh god... Am I in Texas?\"\n\nThe doctor just shook his head. \"No, you idiot. The sign says Tijuana, you're in Mexico! What kind of booze did you have at this party of yours!?\"\n\n\"Sorry... I don't remember, and my head hurts so bad...\"\n\nJust then a nurse called out from the hallway. \"Doctor, the patient in the next room has woken up, would you like to speak with him?\"\n\n\"Si... Gracias nurse Garcia.\" The Doctor returned his gaze to the man. \"I will allow you to collect your thoughts, meanwhile I will see how your drinking buddy is, and maybe he can tell me how you got here.\"\n\n The doctor quietly closed the door as he left the room. The nurse just stared at him. \"How long are you going to tease these poor patients?\"\n\nThe doctor smiled and began to speak with his normal, Canadian accent. \"Oh, not too much longer. I got to teach these guys a lesson somehow. Now, which sign is hanging outside of the buddies room?\"\n\nThe nurse rolled her eyes, \"Acapulco... sir.\"\n\nThe doctor smiled, \"Perfect. I love being the son of Mexican immigrants in Canada. Messing with the Canadians is just so much fun.\" With that, he went into the next room. His thick Mexican accent returned, \"How the hell did ya end up here?\" \n\n\n--------------------------\nYou can read more of my stories at /r/vintnerwrites "
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[WP] You discover that 90% of the population can read each others minds. You are part of the 10% that cannot read other minds nor have your mind read.
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"“You call us *Abominations*.”\n\nRobert stood at the stage, knuckles white, voice husky. Tears was stinging his eyes.\n\nIt had been no accidents that human had gained the power of reading minds. From generations of genetic engineering and subtle modifications of social norms, people had anticipated such results. They had developed what was called ‘a single multitude’, namely, the ability of sharing millions of thoughts at any time. Emotions were no longer private – a single person’s joy had become everybody’s happiness. Utopia was close.\n\nBut there were odd ones. Those who could not read thoughts, like Robert, were considered as a disgrace. At first, they were merely questioned, “Why don’t you share?” Then they were blamed. “You delayed our progress towards Utopia!” Finally, they were condemned. Telepathic people no longer spoke to them. Abominations were simply locked up, being carefully ostracized and dumped to the outskirts of Sahara Desert. Robert was one of them.\n\nIt all started three years ago when scientists claimed that the time was ripe for taking a step forward towards Utopia. Telepaths had become majorities. Everyone was tested to filter out those ‘failures’, and Robert, unsurprisingly, did not make it. Since primary school, he had deemed to be untalented, because when everyone else had quickly grasped the nuances of a particular word transmitted through telepathy by language teachers, he fumbled and asked for verbal explanations. For sciences, he mastered difficult theories slowly because he needed to decipher words that describe ideas, but others quickly understood these difficult concepts as if they had downloaded a comprehension package to their minds. Nonetheless, he managed to obtain a mediocre 'B' for most of his exams, but no higher. \n\nAt that time, there were already existing cases where Abominations wrecked havocs. A teenager in puberty was involved in a fight due to misunderstanding and the inability to communicate to others spiritually, or bandits who took the advantage of his thoughts not being able to read to commit robbery. Hatred was nurtured and finally erupted like a volcano – angry, telepathic public reached an unanimous agreement during a daily exchange of thoughts. People were put to test, and the failed ones were arrested.\n\nNow Robert looked down at the government official with mingled emotions. The men wore a simple black suit with shiny boots. He looked at Robert pleadingly.\n\n“Please, “he implored, his voice desperate, “we need you. The humanity needs you. If you refuse to take on the mission, then we are ruined.”\n\n“I thought without us, you would be stronger. No blood, no violence, no aggressions. I thought ideas were the best when they were synergized.” He did not even try to mask the sarcasm in his voice.\n\nThe man’s face twitched in agony. He was refraining from contacting with other’s minds, to consult their opinions. It was no longer safe.\n\n“No.” Finally he admitted, throwing his hands up in defeat. “We are no superior than you. We have made a mistake. The shared thoughts only lead to complacency – which is developed often in a peaceful time. We simply could not resist it, and since there are numerous people who felt such, others who are cynical at first are affected. Now –”\n\n“Intruders from space came, I know. They found a specimen, dissected him and connected his brain to their own. Through one fallen man, they controlled others.”\n\nThe lobbyist nodded. Beads of perspiration covered his forehead. “Such temptations,” he moaned, “to reconnect to everybody at the cost of losing self-awareness. Many have been transformed into tools of this malicious alien species. Only the strong-willed who disconnected themselves from others in time are conscious, but their number is diminishing. Time is running out – and we need your help.”\n\nRobert bit his lips. He thought of his mother, a gentle woman with beautiful blue eyes. She used to caress his hair when he was young, being mocked because of his ‘defect’. However, he could never forget the desperation in her eyes when he was announced to be an Abomination.\n\n“My son is never like these insensitive creatures!” She screamed when the agents took him. They warned her that he had the potential to commit crimes because no one could monitor the vile thoughts in his head as his mind was unreadable. “He is a bad seed and needs to be weeded out.”\n\n\n*Bad seeds. Abominations. Failures.* These words circulated in his heads and caused an emotional turmoil. The blinding anger shouted vehemently for a refuse, but a tiny voice in the remnant of his kindness asked for forgiveness. Though mistreated, Robert knew he was still a human.\n\n“Yes.” He finally said.\n\n-\n\n“Never use the word ‘Abomination’ again,” reprimands a school teacher, “she is one of us. Maybe she cannot share like you do, but her existence is as essential as the rest of us to keep us alive.”\n\n“But she never understands! She causes troubles! She tries to hit me when I am being nice because she misinterprets!” A young boy protests and pouts. Beside him stands a girl, an indignant look on her face.\n\n“Yes, I admit. But she’ll learn.”\n\n“No! The half of the class thinks she is dangerous. She will grow up being a criminal!”\n\n“Don’t ever said that! They disrupt social order to keep us from complacency. You KNOW complacency leads to doom.”\n\nThe young boy glared at him, but his silence tells Robert that he has accepted this argument.\n\nNow they are no longer abominations. They are known as *predators* – the wolves which keep the herd healthy and strong.\n\n"
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[WP] Due to a strangely consistent typo, the fantasy world you find yourself in isn't home to any Dragons. Rather, the skies are ruled by something called 'Dargons'...
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"Three days. Three members lost. The orc was fried by a firebolt... the dwarf, stabbed with his own sword... and now, the elf got mauled by a dragon. At least, I think it was a dragon. I don't know, they keep calling them \"dergons\" or something. They still never tell me what they are, just saying things like \"You're not serious, right?\"\n\nShaking out the thoughts in my head, I focused on the here-and-now. Jericho and I trudged through the forest, our weapons ready for a fight. As we walked through the vibrant forest, the sound of screeching pierced my ears. Suddenly, Jericho pushed me into the mud.\n\n\"What the hell are you doing?!\"\n\n\"Shh! I hear a dargon...\"\n\nA shadow flew overhead, blocking out the sun. It was titanic, its wingspan the size of a cargo ship.\n\n\"Oh, for the love of Talos-- what in god's name is a dargon?!\"\n\n\"Do you seriously not know what a dargon is?\" He whispered harshly, covering my mouth.\n\n\"No.\"\n\nQuickly, he surveyed the area, making sure the gigantic beast was gone. \n\n\"Dargons are the rulers of the sky, Assblaster.\" Yes, I told him my name was Assblaster. \"They soar among the clouds, hunting for their natural prey: people. Their ears can hear a mouse's tail from up to six miles away, I hear.\"\n\nSo... dragons, then.\n\n\"Do you mean dragons?\" I said, exiting the mud pool.\n\n\"The fuck are dragons?\"\n\n\"Uh... never mind. Let's continue.\"\n\nI got up, brushing mud off my armor, and resumed the journey. If I hadn't already mentioned it, we were heading to Dargon Rock, home of the Dargon King. Said to be the most powerful creature in existence, the Dargon King holds authority over all dragons-- I mean dargons. With his defeat, all dargons under his rule will be subjugated and executed. Brutal, right?\n\nBored, I decided to make some interesting conversation with Jericho.\n\n\"So, are there any known ways to slay a dragon-- dargon, I mean?\"\n\n\"Well...\" he said, looking to the blue skies. \"There are rumors of a Phandelver craftsman who makes special dargon-slayer arrows, though the secret is unknown.\"\n\n\"Oh. You mean Juno, the elf?\"\n\n\"What?\" Jericho said, his eyes staring through me.\n\n\"Yeah, well... he had special arrows that shot straight through dargons' supposed 'iron scales'.\"\n\n\"That... that doesn't prove anything.\"\n\n\"He also said that he made them himself.\"\n\n\"Still doesn't prove anything.\"\n\n\"He also said that he was the rumored craftsman of Phandelver and that the arrows were made of diamond-tipped steel.\" I took a big breath. \"And that he wrote down 'I AM THE PHANDELVER CRAFTSMAN' on a wall with dargon blood.\"\n\n\"Uh...\"\n\nSuddenly, we heard screeching again. This time, I pushed Jericho into some mud.\n\n\"DARGON INCOMING!\" I shouted at the top of my lungs.\n\n\"You fucking idiot!\" he whispered. \"Their ears!\"\n\nI heard swooping overhead. The humongous beast soon came down, its jaws open and hungry.\n\n\"Hey, uh, Jericho?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"You wouldn't happen to have one of Juno's arrows, would you?\"\n\n\"I took one off his corpse as a memento.\"\n\n\"Give it to me, right now.\"\n\n\"That's what she said.\"\n\n\"Jericho... if I die here, I'm taking you with me.\"\n\n\"Fine, fine, here.\" he handed me a fine arrow, shiny as the sun and hard like stone.\n\nI loaded the arrow into my bow and drew back, waiting for the perfect shot. As the beasts heart came within view, I closed my eyes and released the string.\n\nBlood rained from the beast like water from a fountain, soaking me in it. It was warm and smelt of turkey, for some reason. A deep, deep smile spread across my face as I basked in the glow of slaying a dargon. That was, of course, until I realized the beast's body was about to crush me. Well played.\n\n*****\nIf you liked this, check out /r/Picklestasteg00d. "
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[WP] Everyone knows the four horsemen of the apocalypse, few have heard of the four wagoneers of prosperity.
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"The universe exists in equilibrium. Even the human race's ideas oft find themselves, through one way or another, subject to the opposition of a polar opposite. \n\nMy brothers and I actually existed before our more famous inverses. At the dawn of man, they did not yet know of War, Famine, or Pestilence.\n\nDeath is a special case, true, but he and Life were the beginning of the rest of us. Neither bragged about it though, Life out of kindness, Death out of experience.\n\nBeing Peace isn't bad at all. Certainly isn't exciting, but why does it have to be? I have my place in the remote forests, tundras, and even deserts of the world. And urban areas are not without their cozy coffee shops and beautifully sculpted parks.\n\nBounty is often thankful. I see him around a lot in the fall and the winter, grateful not only for feasts, but for friends and family.\n\nHealth and Pestilence are constantly at odds in and around hospitals. They meet the most out of the pairs, but are by far the least aggressive toward each other.\n\nAh, from your face, I can only guess you think me crazy. Be warned, though, hasty action against those different from you is the quickest way to shoo me out the door...",
"When I was young, my town was devastated by a hurricane.\n\nI lost everything in what felt like a nightmare, as did so many others. I wandered the muddy streets, stepping over broken bits of debris and trying desperately not to look at the bodies of both man and beast that lay twisted in ways too horrible to describe, embedded in the muck.\n\nCharity was a principle soon lost in the devastation. So many had lost so much, and so many more sought to take that which they had stripped from them from their fellow survivors. It was not long until the survivors had barricaded themselves into the shambles of their old homes, with obscene threats carved into whatever surface the occupants could find. Those brave or foolish enough to approach these defaced dwellings often became either mute testament to the resolve of the occupants to uphold their scrawlings' promises or affirmation that such drastic measures needed to be taken to protect oneself. Even I, a mere child, was shown no compassion. I was just another monster lurking beyond these terrified people's' doors. And after having the tip of my right ear shot clean off, I learned it was best to scavenge what little I could find in the refuse of the streets.\n\nWeeks passed. Any attempt to rebuild had been abandoned in favor of hoarding what little one could find behind makeshift defenses. I wandered the streets, aimless and silently praying for some end to the ceaseless nightmare that consumed me. Everywhere I looked was a reminder of how far we had fallen. Storefronts lay in ruin, with what goods left unpilfered skewed about the ground, either a result of the storm or some recent tussle between survivors. Our once proud port was a graveyard of smashed ships, made all the more haunting by the shredded sails blowing gently in the breeze like ghosts lingering over their broken bodies. \n\nI wandered in circles until my legs could carry me no further. I collapsed into the street, content to have sludge swallow me whole as it had so many others. I closed my eyes and wept silently, praying for God to have compassion enough to end my sorrowful existence. But it was not to be.\n\n\"Dear boy, what has become of you?!\"\n\nI struggled to raise my head to see he who had spoken to me. A tall man of many years stood over me, pity and concern shown in his long, wrinkled, bearded face. I tried to speak, to beg him to stamp out my life so I might join those taken from me by nature's cruel fury, but I was too weak to speak.\n\n\"Oh dear, oh dear. This is dreadful. Simply awful.\" He scooped me up from the muck into his arms, cradling me with the tenderness I had not felt since my mother had carried me to my bed at night. \"Worry not, child. You'll want for nothing when I'm done. I promise. Hold on. Please.\"\n\nHe carried me to a wagon, somehow in the most pristine of condition. Tethered to its front, a stallion of astounding breed; a coat of pure white and a lush, brilliant mane that seemed to glow with the brilliance of the moon glimmering upon the sea's surface. I wondered how it was that this old man had not only remained alive in the face of this apocalypse, but had remained so untainted by it. He himself wore a fine navy blue jacket with golden buttons. Upon his head sat a silver top hat. His trousers were spotless despite being as pure a hue of white as that of his horse's pelt. I honestly believed him to be some sort of mirage brought on by my grief. \n\n He washed my face, hands, and feet with warm water and swaddled me in blankets as soft as silk. He fed me whatever foods he could, often to have me vomited it back up moments later. Yet he showed no revulsion towards me, a sorry, broken wild child. He only smiled and whispered words of comfort. \"Come now lad; chin up. You'll be on your feet in no time.\" He would say to me. But what was so odd was the fact that believed him. I wanted to keep living. I wanted to prove him right.\n\nAfter what felt like weeks, the old man dressed me in workmen's garbe. He clasped his hand upon my shoulder and said, \"We have much to do, dear boy.\" I followed him from house to house, watching in awe as even the most volatile and untrusting of survivors opened their homes to him. He gestured to me, saying that I needed their help rebuilding our home. None ever seemed to question him. They simply approached me and asked what it was we needed to do.\n\nI would tell them \"The streets need clearing,\" or \"The dead must be tended to,\" and off they would go to handle the issue. Each time they did, the old man would smile at me, nodding his head in approval. But what was strangest of all was how the old man always had what we needed.\n\nWhen a group of men needed tools to rebuild their homes, he pulled fresh lumber and tools from his wagon. When the mothers told us their children were starving, a feast would emerge from the wagon to sate their hunger. He never was short of anything, even what seemed like the impossible.\n\nAfter months of repair and rehabilitation, our home stood a grand city, greater than it had been before the storm. We were healthier, happier, and better than we had ever been before. I myself became the adopted son of the town's carpenter, who trained me to build so many things.\n\nWe were people again.\n\nSatisfied that his work was done, the old man packed his cart and set on his way. Many, most vocally I, protested his leaving and begged him to stay. But in answer, he merely smiled with a saintly warmth. \"I have given you all that you need, my dears,\" he said. \"I must be on my way.\" And with that, he left, never to be seen again.\n\nThere are many days I think of that old man and his wagon. I ponder what he moved on to upon leaving us. I wonder if he will ever return to us. But more than anything, I ask myself how it is that he sought nothing in return for our salvation. I can only wonder and pray that one day I will meet this man again so that I may repay him for the kindness he has shown me.",
"I looked at the newspaper as I drank my coffee. A short Asian man on the front page stared back at me, wearing a million dollar smile and carrying a treasure chest likely equally valuable. His name was Howard and he worked in a local law firm’s IT department according to the byline. Twenty-four hours ago, he’d been severely intoxicated, coming off the coattails of a nasty bender, standing on a bridge above the sea as the sun rose, when he decided to take his own life to escape the crippling gambling debt he'd amassed. As he hit the surface, he not only managed to survive without any damage, but also spotted a buried treasure hidden centuries prior by pirates. According to the article, the chest glinted in the early sunbeams of dawn, making it impossible for him to miss.\n\n*How fortunate.*\n\nI unfolded the paper and opened it to the second page to see if my suspicions were right. A woman in a nearby suburb found a locked safe in her cellar basement filled with rare silver coins from another era and, in the column directly underneath, a man who used a metal detector on the beach for years finally struck literal gold adding up to the tidy sum of ten thousand dollars. On page three, a baby born with a debilitating cancer was found to be in remission against all odds.\n\nBy the time I got to page four and saw the feel good story about a kid finding their puppy who was lost for three weeks in perfect health, I knew I was right.\n\nThey were in town. At least, Luck was. I was pretty sure his brother Life was in the nearby area as well, if the obituaries' uncannily small list of recent passing and sudden drop in murder rate were any indication. \n\nEveryone knows about the horseman of the apocalypse. But who they don’t know about quite as well is the yin to their yang: the four wagoners of prosperity. Everything in the universe has a negative and a positive, something to balance its very existence out to create neutrality. As such, nothing happens without a reason. The horsemen and the wagoners are responsible for nearly everything in the world—both good and bad.\n\nI’d been traveling for the better half of the year looking for at least one of them, let alone two. I’d come close in Idaho a few weeks back, arriving right as a local teenager sold a potato chip that looked oddly like Jesus for a million dollars on eBay. But Luck had disappeared on me then, perhaps scared off by my doppelganger, who was on the trail just like I was. \n\nThey never stayed in the same place for long and we were both looking for them. Which of course meant, somewhere out there, in the sprawling city of Chicago, my doppelganger was reading a newspaper in another coffee shop and had just reached the same conclusion as me. \n\nThe only difference was I wanted to save them. The other me wanted to remove them from this world, spiraling the globe into an unforgivably cold place where only bad things happened to good people. A world where cops never got a lucky break in an investigation. A place where no one escaped a burning building. Like I said, everything has its negative and positive; its own yin and yang to balance it. Its own good versus evil. \n\nMy doppelganger, however, wanted to end all that. He also wanted to end me.\n\nI just hoped that for once, Luck was on my side. Its life—as well as the future of the whole planet—might depend on it.\n"
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[WP] Maybe there are no good people -- maybe there are only good decisions.
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"EU (Naruto) \n\nHis name is not important. \n\nNo one tells him this, but he knows it, just like he knows the cold neglect of the streets and the stern faces of the elders. He knows that in the grand scheme of things he is just one miniscule cog to be fitted into the great machine of society, turned to the purposes of an elite few far above his existence. \n\nHe decides that he wants to try to be a good cog. \n\nIt's all he can aspire to. Everyone around him tells him this is a good thing. This is the path of duty and honour. \n\nHe becomes a ninja, because the village is short on manpower and he was reasonably fit. \n\nThey send him on missions during the war. He has no idea what he's doing or where he's going. Just that he has to keep supporting the village and saying good stuff to his comrades, because being a cog is important. \n\nHe tries not to think about why he's doing what he's doing. There is something in him that breaks a little more with every mission, something fragile and sharp that will cut him if he actually sits down and considers the state of his soul. \n\nHe has long since learned to stay away from sharp things. \n\nHe thinks he is a reasonably good ninja. Modestly speaking, as long as he doesn't run up against any Jounin or S-rank monsters he should be fine. \n\nThe war drags on. He starts having to run into Jounin who employ all sorts of tricks to stay alive, including involving civilians. \n\nHe's a good ninja, he thinks. He listens to orders, he completes his missions, and he doesn't go on random stress killing sprees like some of his colleagues have done. \n\nHe fights on, because he is just a cog in a machine. \n\nBut then he meets Rao. Rao is a sweet little thing, a slip of a girl, really. Rao is lightness and smiles and innocence, a friendly face in the still living marketplace of the village. She is another insignificant cog in the great machine, but one rather like him somehow. \n\nRao, whose face makes him afraid that he might never come home. \n\nHe starts wondering if the village is the best place for Rao to be. He's heard rumours of what the other Jounins have been doing to relieve the stress of war. He's heard rumours of what the civilians have had to bear in order to appease their guardians and protectors. \n\nOne day when he comes back from another assassination, Rao is missing from the marketplace. He takes leave to look for her. He searches in secret, even during his missions. \n\nRao has never left the country. He hears a few rumours. He returns to the village and visits every brothel and bar until he finds a familiar face rotting away in the back of a dark alley. \n\nThe village had not been safe for Rao. \n\nThe village is a great machine and he is a tiny cog, ready to be crushed under the weight of his own inability to protect what he pleases. \n\nHe is being crushed slowly. \n\nA while later he stands on the edge of a border, his team mates incapacitated and the enemy gone for now. He sits alone in a field of corpses, waiting for the sun to set before they move out. \n\nHe is not a good man. He knows this by now. There is no way he is considered good, after all that he has done for the great machine and even then-\n\nPerhaps the great machine of society was never a good one after all.\n\nAll he can do is make a decision, right now. Leave, or stay. If he stays, the village will make him kill some more until he dies himself one day. If he leaves, he leaves alone and there will be no fantasy of duty or honour to aspire to. \n\nAll he can do is choose, while he has the chance. \n\n"
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[WP] Someone mistook you for a famous person and kidnapped you. Except you share nothing in common with that person. comedy ensues.
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"\"What do you mean you're not Anna Kendrick!?!?\"\n\nThe guy looked bemused as I look down at him. \n\n\"Well, have you seen a picture of Anna Kendrick recently?\"\n\n\"Y...yeah!\" he stuttered. He hadn't, and I could tell.\n\n\"Well, let me remind you: she has brown hair, about yay long--\" I motioned to my shoulders. \"She is really short, is good looking, and uh, has really white teeth.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I don't see the problem,\" the guy said, confused.\n\n\"Well, I have dark black hair, overweight, at least a foot taller than you, and last but not least, I'm a black guy \"\n\nHe stared at me for a minute. I couldn't tell if he was processing it at all, wondering what kind of trouble he was having with any of it.\n\nHe let out a little grin. \"Prove it.\"\n\n\"\"*Prove it*??\" I asked incredulously. \"You want me to show you my junk?\"\n\n\"Yeah! Prove you are not Anna Kendrick!\"\n\n\"Okay, don't say I didn't warn you,\" I said, as I dropped my trousers to my feet.\n\nAlmost as if in slow motion, I watched the mischievous grin turn into absolute disgust. \"OH MY GOD!\" he exclaimed, shielding his eyes and turning his head away from my freely swinging junk \n\nI covered myself up and watched him pace around with his back to me, wondering where it all went wrong. I thought I had finally convinced him who I was, but when I settled down, I could hear his mutterings beneath his breath.\n\n\"Anna Kendrick is a *guy*??? Since when??\"\n\nI could have facepalmed so hard, I would have broken my nose. "
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[WP] "Sir?" "Yes, Peter?" "The humans have discovered our prototypes for New Earth. All seven of them. They're calling it the TRAPPIST-1 system."
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" \"Son of a...\" the captain slammed on the desk, furious at these findings.\n\n \"Sir you're still on the intercom.\" Peter interrupted politely.\n\n \"Right, sorry about that.\" Captain chuckled nervously. He stood up and paced about the room for a moment, the walked over to the shelf. He pulled down a jar with a strange purple fluid inside. Speckled with bright dots and one large swirl in the center. Peter stared down at the jar with a passion. \"Do you know what this is, peter?\" Captain broke the ice.\n\n \"That's A-3094 sir.\" The captain put it back neatly and grabbed another.\n\n \"And this?\"\n\n Peter gulped. \"That's the m-milky way sir, the only galaxy with life forms.\"\n\n \"Ahh, that's where you're wrong Peter. Every one of these has life forms. But this one is the only one with intelligent beings.\"\n\n \"But sir, project Z-0...\"\n\n \"How many times do I have to tell you. We. Do not. Talk. About project Z. Got it?\"\n\n \"Yes sir. So... what do we do with the humans?\" Captain took his arm and swung it through the shelf, sending a row of jars to the ground, shattering them across the floor. He took the Milky Way and put it where the others used to lie.\n\n \"We wait.\"\n \"Then they die.\"\n\n\n\nTo be continued\n\n \n\n \n\n\n\n",
"\"Sir?\"\n\n\"Yes, Peter?\"\n\n\"The humans have discovered-\"\n***\n\n\"Yes I know, Peter.\"\n\n\"But it's too early for this!\"\n\n\"Indeed.\"\n\n\"Wha-don't tell me you've been watching Stargate SG-1 again.\"\n\n\"Indeed.\"\n\nThe other person is flabbergasted and constipated with irritation.\n\n\"Oh DON'T even start with the constipation jokes!\"\n\n\"What? I wasn't even-\"\n\n\"NO!\"\n\nA pregnant pause ensued.\n\n\"What the FUCK-that's not how you use that phrase!\"\n\n\"Peter, did you smoke before you came here?\"\n\nPeter gasped.\n\n\"STOP SAYING MY NAME! NOBODY GIVES A FUCK ABOUT MY NAME.\"\n\n...but I do.\n\n\"Yes I KNOW you do!\"\n\n\"Excuse me? Who the fhlaggrah are you hallucinating about and did you just accuse me of drugs?\"\n\nPeter couldn't-\n\n\"NO!\"\n\nBut I was just-\n\n\"NAH-AH!\"\n\n...\n\n\"I'm going on break.\"\n\nPeter whited out.\n\n\"POKEMON? REALLY?\"\n\nU mad bro?\n\nAs the doors closed, Adam spun around in his chair worrying his secret of collecting the human's Pokémon cards has been exposed. Hopefully, it's someone else. Such things are categorized as contraband and the consequences are rather extreme.\n\n\"Yeah, that's why I should move my stash.\"\n\nWhat-\n\n\"Right now, you're in shock.\"\n\nAdam sits calmly with a wiry smile-\n\n\"-puffing on his kuun?\"\n\nWhat the hell?!\n\n\"The Narrarator. Has. Been. Narrated.\"\n\ngg\n\n\"That's not grammatically correct.\"\n\nShut up.\n\n\"Should you really be on-\"\n\nNO STOP. NOPE. NO PLEASE NO!\n\n\"Oooookay. But people are going to complain about your break of conventions and you're not going to get as much karma.\"\n\nPlease...stop...\n\n\"Also, are you sure this isn't a joke response to the prompt?\"\n\nAre you serious?\n\n\"I'm dead serious.\n\nAlright I'll stop!\n\n\"I want something in return.\"\n\nWhat the fuck do you want, Simon?\n\n\"I would like a sequel.\"\n\nFine.\n\n\"Also, please make it less like a chatroom. Lastly: my name is Adam. A-D-A-M.\"\n\nFine! Fine!\n\nAdam got up from his chair to stretch for a moment. A pop here, twist there and stress seemed to escape the very pores of his skin. With pleasure on his face, he plopped in his chair content to continue his work.\n\nAdam muttered to himself, \"It really is too early though.\"\n\n\"Sir?\"\n\n\"Yes, Peter?\"\n\n\"The humans discovered our prototypes for New Earth. All seven of them and naming it the Trappist-1 system.\"\n\nBoth felt a sinking feeling as their guts grew cold. Fear etched itself onto Peter's face as sweat dripped down his nose. Adam's only reply was:\n\n\"Fuck.\"",
"Here's your fucking sequel, fucking Adam. \"Oh don't be like that. I know you favor me.\" I do and it's not fair! \"Just be calm this time. I have a meeting to attend. But promise me one thing.\" What is it?\n\n\"STOP BUNCHING OUR DIALOGUE IN A PARAGRAPH!\"\n\nYES FINE OK!!\n***\n\nNOMADD Command's highest officers sat in their capital's Glatidadaeum. Seats spiraled upwards to the ceiling into the darkness. The Generalissimo took the \"donut\" seat levitating parallel with the central pillar stretching from the floor to the ceiling.\n\nHe spoke, \"Ullented, comrades!\"\n\n\"Hein, Generalisimo!\"\n\n\"Let's begin.\"\n\nEveryone's chairs except the Generalissimo's retracted back into the wall and left the officers with a small platform to stand on. Even the floor disappeared revealing a seemingly bottomless, glowing shaft. Some of the newly initiated looked down at the arcs of electricity inside the engine.\n\nConsequences of several failed assassinations.\n\n\"Adam.\"\n\nAdam's platform gently glowed. A mechanical arm slowly pushed the platform forward, just enough to stick out.\n\n\"Your report says that the humans have found all seven of our 'New Earth' prototypes.\"\n\n\"Yes sir!\"\n\n\"You followed the advice of your protégé and let the humans settle on four out of seven prototypes as a 'closed testing phase'. Is that true?\"\n\n\"Yes sir!\"\n\nThe Generalissimo tapped his cheek, his palm cradling his head. Sweat trickled down the back of Adam's neck and into the darkness of his carapace harness. \n\n\"Did you give him a raise?\"\n\n\"Yes sir!\"\n\n\"Good man.\"\n\n\"EXCELLENT!\"\n\nThe Generalissimo pressed a button on his wristband and the chairs came back. The officers gladly took their seats and began pulling out...\n\n\"Let the second monthly Pokémon tournament begin!\"\n\nAdam stood dumbstruck as his platform was the last to retract, his mouth agape, looking at everyone with rare holographic cards.\n\nThen the Generalisimo looked at Adam with a pitying face.\n\n\"Oh Adam...\"\n\nAdam's deck was in the Generalissimo's left hand.\n\n\"Two versus all?\"\n\n\"Hell yes, sir!\"",
"\"Sir?\"\n\n\"Yes, Peter?\"\n\n\"The humans have discovered our prototypes for New Earth. All seven of them. They're calling it the TRAPPIST-1 system.\"\n***\n\nA muted expression. One last puff on the kuun before Sir slowly spun back around to the terminal and slumped in his chair.\n\n\"So it begins again.\"\n\nI was about to possibly interrupt his thoughts, but I refrained and returned my hand to my side.\n\n\"Maybe we can curb their instincts for a brief moment before they swarm over these prototypes.\" Sir mused as he lobbed the spent kuun into the refuse receptacle. A ring of smoke he blew into the holographic display that broke apart on the wall a moment after.\n\nSir spun around to look at me with a tired expression and spoke again, \"Maybe NOMADD Command will give me another pay raise too. Heh.\" I heard his voice strain with age and weariness. I can't blame him, Sir's resume made him almost a legend in the NOMADD program.\n\n\"Bah, I bet Command will just ignore the whole thing.\"\n\n\"If I may say so Sir-\" He was reaching for another kuun to smoke. He stopped to look up from his chest pocket with raised bonebrows.\n\n\"-we can have a independent contractor pose as an explorer to meet up with the humans. Sort of a cliché first contact scenario. We let the humans settle, monitor their experience and play it by ear from there. It will be like a closed testing phase.\"\n\nSir resumed putting the fresh kuun between his lips, lit the end and puffed on it again.\n\n\"Peter.\"\n\n\"Yes, Sir?\"\n\n\"I'm giving you a raise.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Sir.\"\n\n\"Let's get to work.\"",
"They were known as *the elevated*—a group of elites capable of communicating with the Creator Species. They were entrepreneurs, artistic geniuses, world leaders, and promising young students. The Creators whispered to them in their subconscious, feeding them brave ideas that could change the world. Perhaps you, dear reader, have heard their call.\n\nGreat movements in society rose and fell like a tide caused by the gravity of godlike whispers. The tide grew more violent as the ages passed on—as the ideas multiplied, ricocheting from thesis, to antithesis, synthesis in a great fractal spiral stretching across the aging face of Earth.\n\nOne day the ideas stopped. The Creator Species sent their whispers to newer skies—far from earth. The impact on the planet was immediate—scientific stagnation, global economic slowdown, and years and years of the worst art humanity has ever seen.\n\nEveryone had a theory. Most were wrong.\n\nThere was a man in long flowing white robes on a daytime talk television show. He sat in a comfy yellow sofa, across from a middle-aged host with goggle-shaped tan lines.\n\n“Why make a New Earth?” the host asked.\n\n“This planet was almost perfect,” the man said, “But there was one fatal flaw that the Creator species simply could not abide.”\n\n“What was it?” the host pressed.\n\n“Buy my DVD for $19.99 to find out!” the man in the long flowing robes said.\n\n“Nope, that’s not it,” said a deep voice from off stage. The camera panned.\n\nA flying spaghetti monster floated over the audience, waving his noodly appendage. Unsure what to do, the stage manager illuminated the applause sign. \n\nThe people clapped.\n\n“We, the creator species,” spoketh the spaghetti monster, “Have been trying for a long long time to tell you humans to be nice to each other.” He paused. “It isn’t working. Humans are… difficult.”\n\nThe audience stared, dumbstruck.\n\n“On our new planet,” the flying spaghetti monster said, “We will try again. With puppers.” The flying spaghetti monster smiled. “There will be a planet Corgi. A planet Daschund. A planet Lab. A planet husky. A planet golden retriever. A planet shih tzu. A planet poodle. And a moon for the Chihuahuas.”\n\n“Can I…” said the man in the flowing white robes, “Can I go to Planet Husky?”\n\n“Nope nope nope,” the flying spaghetti monster said, “You see, the reason your society is crumbling is because people just can’t seem to get along with—”\n\nThere was a sound of gunfire, and the flying spaghetti monster fell to the floor, bleeding red marinara blood.\n\nBan Ki-Moon, Secretary General of the United Nations, stood up from the crowd, wielding a semi-automatic AR-15.\n\n“We will go to planet Husky!” he declared.\n\nFrom that moment forward, all of humanity worked together in perfect harmony to develop the most advanced space program the world had ever seen—and everyone migrated to the doggo system to live on the worlds of soft furry puppers.\n\n----\n\nThanks for reading! /r/trrh\n",
"God sat at his desk, shuffling through the reports on the Miracle on Ulica-34. It had been a relatively minor thing--he made a mythical figure in their culture come to life. It wasn't a total act of creation, since there had been someone who had looked similar to the ancient description who had died earlier that week. \n\nIt had certainly made for a spectacle, though, and now there was a renewed vigor to the faith there. The reports in front of him, at least, seemed to say so. Considering everything that had been going on for the past few days, he viewed it as a matter worthy of celebration. \n\nHe pressed the intercom button. \"Jesus.\" \n\n\"Yes, sir?\" His son's voice came through the speaker, and God felt a little warmer. The family arrangement had its rough spots, but Ulica-34 was more proof it was working out. \n\n\"Ring up Dionysus for me. Let him know I want him to plan a celebration for the Ulica-34 success. Offer him the usual rate.\"\n\n\"Understood, and Congratulations.\" \n\nGod sat back and turned to look out of the office window over the office park. It was the center of his administration--an astounding achievement of a campus, one that would have spanned a whole continent back on his trial planet--Earth. Inside that vast expanse were billions of workers, managing the affairs of hundreds of thousands of intelligent species. \n\nSome days, hell, a lot of the days, all that management was a nightmare of problems that forced God to float from one thing to the next, pushing him near to insanity. But there were a lot of good days, too, where things worked out and the system proved its worth. \n\nThe intercom buzzed. \n\n\"Saint Peter on the Emergency line. Something about Orbital Testing.\" \n\nGod felt his heart twist. Saint Peter had been a reliable manager for centuries. If he was calling on the emergency line about God's personal project?\n\n\"Put him through,\" God whispered, his rage seeping forth into his voice, casting it as a rough breeze that run over his desk. Pages ruffled and a loose sheet floated off the edge. \n\nThere was a tone and Peter's voice came through.\n\n\"There's been a problem with the New Earth Program, sir. The humans have discovered it.\" \n\nGod let out a hissing sigh and more pages scattered about. \n\n\"What happened?\" \n\n\"They sent out a probe, and it happened to gather data on the prototyping system where we're working on the new Earth study. They've discovered all seven of the planets. It was the NASA organization again. They're theorizing that three of the planets may have the conditions for life.\" \n\n\"Damn, how do they keep doing this to us? How do they always discover something before they're meant to?\" \n\n\"I've already sent a team to investigate. At the moment, though, the knowledge has been published.\" \n\nGod nodded, then took a deep breath. Peter was good. He had been proactive. \n\nGod knew that his actions, and maybe more important, his timing had averted more than a few crises in the past. This was just another example of why he kept Peter where he was. \n\nBut the humans created more drama than a one-planet species ought to. The damn beings kept pushing their noses into everything. God loved them, had a special place in his heart for them, but that didn't make them any less annoying when they made the attempt. \n\n\"You said they've only discovered that three of the planets are life-bearing?\" \n\n\"Yes, they've theorized that based on what their ideal 'habitable zone' is. But they have nothing on the atmospheric conditions. I doubt they'll be in the dark for long, since they can do those test using concentrated light.\" \n\nGod remembered that invention. it had been ingenious, and when he seen it showcased, he marveled at what the humans would be able to do with it. He wished he could have taken the credit for it directly, but he settled on having created the humans in the first place. Now, he cursed it.\n\n\"That'll give us some leeway. Damn, we should have never put the prototypes so close to them. It was just a matter of time...\" \n\n\"fifty years ago, we wouldn't have even thought they would have gotten to the moon.\"\n\n\"And then they did,\" God growled. \n\n \"I think we made the right decision.\" God wished he could share Peter's confidence. \"besides, other species could have found them a lot quicker than the humans.\" \n\nThat was a possibility, since there were a few other intelligent species that had already discovered space travel and were now spread over multiple planets. But god doubted whether they would have ever ventured into a region too far enough away. besides, God had tantalizing prizes for them much closer than any prototype Earth would be. \n\n\"I suppose... thank you, peter.\" \n\n\"Of course, sir.\" \n\nGod took a few seconds to think. The fabrication systems should have still been safe. They were on the edge of the universe, away from any intelligent species. But all of the prototypes had to be close so they could mimic the local galactic conditions for their tests. \n\nWhere better to prototype New Earths than close to Earth? \n\nGod shook his head. Figuring out where the new prototypes would go wasn't something he needed to worry about now. \n\n\"Call Job, tell him they need to pull out the plans for the seven prototypes again. We're going to have to restart somewhere else and rebuild,\" God said.\n\n\"That's going to be a lot of lost time, sir. Do you think they'll still be ready in time?\" \n\n\"It's cutting it close, yes. But there's a lot of variables and still a lot of legwork before we introduce humans to the intergalactic community. Even if we're off by a century or so, I don't think any one race will have the edge on technology.\" \n\n\"If you're confident,\" said Peter. \n\n\"I am.\" \n\n\"Yes sir, I'll make the arrangements. What do you want to do with the prototypes we have now?\" \n\n\"What are the options you've thought about?\" God asked\n\n\"The quickest way is to destroy them with some sun-death event. But I've already figured that the humans would notice something so strange and sense divine intervention.\" \n\nThat was maybe and overestimation of humanity. One of the greatest things about the downward trend of religiousness was that it meant the humans were largely self-sufficient, without need of miracles. They'd be disinclined to see God's hand in something that had God written all over it.\n\nBut Peter was right that it would put God's plan in a precarious position. \n\n\"The other option is to make the atmosphere inhospitable.\" \n\n\"Couldn't we just, deplete it?' God asked. it would have been the most expeditious way of making sure they lost interest in the prototypes for the short term. \n\n\"No, they're certainly hopeful there is an atmosphere, and there are a lot of features that indicate an atmosphere. They're bound to have data that tells them if there is atmosphere or not. A strange disappearance would be...\" \n\n\"Okay, so that won't work.\" *Damn the humans for making things more difficult than it needed to be. It had taken years to fabricate those planets.* \"Then making it inhospitable is the way we go.\" \n\n\"Yes sir, if we start now, I think we can have it done in a few months. It should be fast enough, but...\" \n\nThere was a long pause, but God waited it out. He tried not to make assumptions, but more importantly, he never wanted Peter to feel as if he'd incurred God's wrath. God had learned to be patient during those pauses. \n\n\"Well,\" saint Peter said. \"he humans have a lot of data collected, and their craft is collecting more as we speak. If they've discovered enough to know at least a solid hint of atmospheric composition, they'll probably notice it changing so fast. I think that would be a bit much for them. they'd have to know something was up.\" \n\nGod thought about that and considered how the humans might respond. He only came up with two conclusions--the eternal response of humans to anything they didn't understand. \n\nGod grunted. \"Gods, or Aliens... Damn, and three centuries too early for them to have even found the ruins of a Civilization. Alright Peter, you start doing what you need to do. We'll work out contingencies for a potential failure.\" \n\n\"yes, sir. I'll get on it.\" \n\nThe line went silent, then the tone sounded. God sighed, then hung up. He pressed the intercom button again. \"Jesus.\" \n\n\"Yes, sir?\" \n\n\"Can you have your friends at the Fabricator's union give me a call? I have a new job for them.\" \n\n\"Will do.\" \n\nGod rubbed his temples. He looked down at the mess that he had made when his anger has come close to bursting through his voice. He blew gently towards the floor. The papers there floated up and he snatched them. It was nice to know that some things in the world were entirely under control. \n\nGod felt grateful to Saint Peter. As potential disasters went, this one seemed like it would be managed. At lest, they had a solid plan in motion. \n\nGod looked out over the office park again. He hoped the human problem would be resolved quickly, and hopefully without divine intervention. Not like the last time...\n\nGod pushed the memory from his head--there were certain bad days that really were better than others. \n\n\n___\n\n*Thanks for reading, check out /r/chrisbryant for more of my work!* \n",
"Part of the fun of the unveiling was going to be showing the humans that another system with habitable planets existed so closely to their own. Now that part of the fun had been spoiled. But the rest of the surprise--seven habitable planets, each with a bountiful supply of resources, both those necessary for life and those necessary for technological advancement, each with a temperate climate, diurnal cycles like Earth's, and each built, by us, for the humans themselves--that part of the surprise was still yet to come.\n\nThe humans would still be taken-aback to meet us, to find out that they shared their galaxy with other intelligent life, intelligent life that not only knew about them, but wanted to welcome them into the intragalactic fold with the gift of interstellar travel and extra-terrestrial colonization. \n\nAnd they would still be thrilled to leave their polluted rock, to travel through the previously-uncharted and impossible-to-transverse void towards a new world, a new home, a new land of milk and honey, of plenty, and to set up civilization there. \n\nAnd they would still marvel at the landscapes and seascapes, the terrible mountains, the rolling hills, the heaving oceans we built for them there. They would wonder at the sky, coloured slightly differently on each planet during the day, in which would hang a red sun, and filled with the same superabundance of stars they were used to, a starry sky to remind them of home, at night. \n\nAnd they *will* rejoice, years into reconstructing their civilizations, each particular civilization on each planet, after having formed bands on each planet, creating flags and myths of patriotism, creating their own planetary nationalisms, to be given, each, the instructions for the construction of a terrible weapon, with a power unlike anything ever wielded by their species before.\n\nAnd the fearful will tremble, and the warlike, bloodthirsty, will grin with glee, to be told that within one hundred years after landing, the humans from one of the seven planets will have to destroy the humans on the other six, and that only the first to create the weapon and use it on the others will survive and be truly welcomed by us into the intragalactic fold (and that if none of the seven manages to make and use the weapon within that hundred years time, we will destroy all seven, along with any stragglers still left on Earth). \n\nOur injunction will be: build and use the weapon, and join us, an ancient and warlike species, or fail to do so and be destroyed entirely.\n\nI cannot wait to watch them scramble and fret upon hearing their fate, upon learning the true nature of their circumstances, upon learning about the game we have thrown them into, for their culling, edification, and improvement, and for our amusement.\n\nWe had called the system New Earth. But the name upon which the humans stumbled now seems more appropriate. But it will be many years before construction is completed, and many years after that before the first humans begin to arrive, so it will be many years before the humans realize that on New Earth, in New Eden, in the Trappist system, as they so prophetically have dubbed it, how trapped, utterly trapped, like hungry rats in cages, they truly will be.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] A visit to Mother.
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"I sat on the cold hard ground talking to her as I did every Sunday. It was the only time I was able to see her between work and children and friends there was never enough time. But I always made sure I had time for my Sunday visits to my mother.\n\nI told her about the kids and of my new promotion at work. I told her how I had missed her over the week. She spoke of my father and how she missed him. Our conversation would only last an hour before I had to leave, but that hour a week meant everything to me. From 12:00AM to 1:00AM I was able to take my mother away from that horrible place. She had told me the stories of that terrible place, but there was nothing I could do. I wanted to save her, but she had made her choices in life and had to suffer the consequences.\n\nMy watch beeped, warning me of the time: 12:55AM. I only had 5 minutes left with her for another week. I apologized for not finding a way to save her and she cried out in agony as the hands reached from the earth and tore her from me once again while the alarm on my wrist beeped that it was 1:00AM.\n\nI took my bottle of water and smothered the flames of my summoning circle as I felt the usual welling of tears in my eyes. I couldn’t save her, just like she couldn’t save herself.\n",
"It'd been 2 decades since the beast crawled out of the mouth of hell to give birth. Dragging her fat, protruding belly straight from the fire into a blizzard. Blood and soot were smeared in the snow behind her.\n\nThe infant came out a mewling mess, surrounded by cold but built for warmth. A daughter; She hated her on sight, but there were rules in this society. If she wanted to blend in she'd have to care for it. \n\nHer body was completely consumed in fire as she changed their forms to match that of the people in the town she was heading to. This was going to be unpleasant. \n\nShe glared at the baby in her arms. Smoke was still rising from both of their forms and the snow around them sizzled and melted. How lucky this tiny thing had been to be born outside Hell. She hated it just a little more for that. The extra weight, the labor pains, and exhaustion caused by this tiny thing had made it that much harder to pull herself out of the pit. \n\n\"Hateful thing,\" she said, glaring down at it.\n\nSoon she found a road. By then the bundle in her arms was screaming and even in the storm they were found and offered a ride. \n\n\"What are you doing out in the middle of a snowstorm?\" the man asked. \"And with a baby? Come with me. We'll get you warmed up.\" She'd gracefully climbed up and leaned against him- draining his energy, feeding off of his kindness with a kind of drunkenness. It'd been so long since she'd tasted compassion.\n\nThe Beast stayed with him part of the winter, enjoying the feeding, but he aged to quickly. She watched as he scribbled into a journal, and wondered at it. Who would read it? \n\nThe baby was constantly fussy. It often cried. It craved human food. After months of this, she'd lost patience, dropping her form. She'd intended to put a quick end to it. The man had caught her and fiercely defended the child. His fraternal drive was much stronger than she'd thought it could be, especially since the baby wasn't his. He won.\n\nShe was forced to flee. Taking up residence in a cave, she fed on drifters and traveled to other towns. The thing she'd given birth to drew her in. She couldn't control it. She wanted to leave, go further from the cave that hid the mouth of Hell, but she couldn't. It tied her here. She wanted to tear the thing to pieces. \n\nMeanwhile, the man raised the child like she was his own. In spite of the winter the Beast had drained him, he'd lived long enough to see his adopted daughter into adulthood. This time she would take her time. No mistakes. \n\nFrom a distance, the Beast watched on as the girl visited her father's grave. The snow was starting to fall and the girl was cold. The house wasn't far, but she'd have to work fast if she didn't want to be caught. \n\nShe was determined to reverse this pull her spawn had on her. She'd resented its powerful pull long enough. Her daughter wanted to be human? She would use that to take power back, to draw her in.\n\nShe searched through the house until she found the journal she knew he kept. Placing it carefully on the table, she flipped it open and added a sentence of her own.\n\n\"Come to Mother.\"\n\n(Edit: Had to fix the number of years)\n\n\n\n\n "
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[WP] You work in a very old hotel. Everything seems normal until the day you enter a door you have never noticed before
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"The hotel I work at is in a \"forgotten\" area of town. Hardly anyone stops here anymore. Especially during the winter off season. I have plenty of time to screw around in the office. Watching the lousy tv and chasing off the country critters that come into the rooms. The damn owners refuse to shut this shithole down. \n\n \n\nThis hotel is one of those old school ones. L-shaped with two levels. The lower one has one of those old style farm pickups,the kind with the oversize fenders over the wheel wells down at the far end. The top level has green astroturf laid down on the concrete. Nice,huh? \n\n\nToday,I watched as the stream of cars pass by. Until a VW bus rolled up. Shaggy( The dude off of the cartoon) and his chica got out. I could smell the MJ from here. Dude had dreads down to his ass,it seemed. I gave them room 15, middle of the top level. Looking out at the road and train tracks. \n\nAround midnight, his chica comes screaming into the office saying the door had sucked him in. I thought she was on something stronger than weed. Because, there's no closet or door between rooms. The only way in is through the room door. Went up there and his dreads are scattered around this door between the bureau where the tv is and the room door. \n\nI honestly can't tell you where the hell this one came from. I've never seen it. ",
"As a gangly high-school youth, Frank realized that he was as much of a disappointment to the real world as the real world was to him. In an effort to appease all parties, he devoted himself to videogames with a level of passion that would make a dope fiend blink. His parents, his teachers, his brothers, everyone told him to stop. To take it easy on the videogames. To find a real skill to learn—something where he could contribute to society. \n\nBut what had society ever done for him? The state mandated he attend school—a place where the boys with muscles got the girls and the boys with glasses got made fun of. A place where teachers frowned at him and the other kids rolled their eyes.\n\nPost-graduation, he knew exactly what job he wanted. Pro video gamer. He flew to Korea for the world’s greatest video game tournament. The flight lasted fourteen hours. Frank couldn’t sleep.\n\nAt long last, the plane descended through mountainlike clouds. The bright world of east asia greeted him with open arms. He walked in a trance through flashing lights, pulsing beats, cheap strong drinks, and foreign smiles.\n\nHe didn’t win the tournament. He didn’t even qualify. But in the end, it didn’t matter. Frank wasn’t competitive—he just loved the game. Korea loved the game too, so he decided to stay. He picked up a night shift at a hotel—an old palatial building in Itaewon. He played games at work, helped drunk guests find their rooms, and gradually picked up Korean. Years passed. The sedentary lifestyle took its toll. Frank grew paunchy and full-faced.\n\n“I’ve been robbed,” a woman said, pressing the service bell for the second time.\n\nFrank jumped in his seat. He pulled off his headset, set down his game controller and looked up.\n\n“Sorry?” he said.\n\n“Someone broke into my room,” the woman said. She wore a long-sleeved black dress, with red earrings and her hair tied up tight. She was tall, thin, and beautiful.\n\nFrank wore a sweatshirt with the hotel’s logo embroidered over his chest. It was spotted with grease from last night’s barbecue. He grabbed the phone.\n\n“Are you okay?” he asked.\n\n“Yes I am,” the woman said hurriedly, “But please don’t call the police.”\n\nFrank slowly set down the phone. He looked at the woman again. He had seen her here before.\n\n“Just come with me,” she said, “It will all be clearer.”\n\n“Do I know you?” Frank said as they walked down the hall. The hallways twisted and turned with identical carpets and unmarked intersections. The woman knew the route perfectly.\n\n“You really know your way around,” Frank said, as they arrived at the room. The woman smiled and inserted her card in the door. It beeped.\n\n“Well, I do work here,” she said coyly.\n\nFrank frowned. “You’re not on staff…”\n\nShe leaned in and kissed him. Frank stood there, shocked. She kissed him again harder. She grabbed his hand and led him to the bed.\n\n“I’ve seen you at your desk,” she said, “Always hiding in your games. You need to learn how to stop hiding.” She began taking off her dress. “Show me how to stop hiding.”\n\nThere were bruises on her wrists and arms. Frank stared. She grabbed his hands, but he pulled away.\n\n“I-I don’t,” he said. He paused. “I never.”\n\nShe laughed.\n\n“I know,” she said. “You should start.” She looked over at her purse on the nightstand, with the loaded gun that she had been too afraid to use. She thought of the short man that had used her and left and the things he had done and the things he had said. She wanted power, she needed power, but she often felt that she only had one power.\n\nShe kissed him again. They lay together.\n\nHe told her of his pain. It wasn’t special, it wasn’t unique, but it was his. And it had stunted him and he knew it. She kept silent about her own. \n\n“There’s a beautiful man in there,” she said, poking him playfully in the belly. “Somewhere,” she chided.\n\nFrank smiled sheepishly, running his hands through her long dark hair.\n\n“You’re worth it, you know,” she said, “You should treat yourself better.”\n\nFrank nodded, not sure what he was agreeing to.\n\n“You don’t have to be what their eyes made you.” She said, “You don’t have to hide from them. That part of your life is over.”\n\nFrank took an unsteady breath.\n\n“Come with me,” she said. She led him by the hand through a maze of hallways and staircases, and through an open door. She took him somewhere he’d never been.\n\nThe hotel gym. Frank looked at the weights. He looked at the woman.\n\n“You can start living…” the woman said, “if you want.” She kissed him once, and walked back through the exit. She felt powerful again. The short man wouldn't be so lucky next time.\n\nFrank walked over to the weight rack, holding back a smile.\n\n----\n\n*thanks for reading! check out /r/trrh for more*\n",
"\"Why, this is the lobby, of course.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? I came from the lobby, it's at the other end of the passage. What lobby is this?\"\n\n\"The hotel lobby, sir.\"\n\nI looked around. It was hard to dispute his confident tone, so I needed some evidence. But the evidence generally appeared to be in his favor. There were lounge chairs and those weird lamps hanging in odd places, and the old man stood behind both a large wooden desk and the kind of black vest that you had to be paid to wear.\n\n\"What hotel is this?\" I asked.\n\n\"Eastwickam. Are you here to check in, sir?\"\n\nI frowned. \"I don't think so. I just came from Westwickam--it's the hotel down the, uh, down the passage. Hang on one second.\"\n\nI peeked down the way that I'd come, but the far exit was obscured from here. The lights in the hall must have gone out.\n\n\"Sir, are you intending to meet someone here?\"\n\n\"Not that I know of. I was trying to see where that door led to. I thought this was a storage area. There were supposed to be stores of glasses back here.\"\n\n\"You're making a delivery, then?\"\n\n\"No, I need glasses.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, we have extras, I'm sure. Let me check with storage.\"\n\nThe old man disappeared down a back hallway. I looked around. The furniture was real. Everything was solid. Nobody else was around, though. I couldn't imagine how they'd fitted this hotel inside the other one. Something was wrong about all of this.\n\n\"Glasses, sir?\"\n\n\"Thanks, I--oh, I meant drinking glasses.\"\n\n\"Try them on, sir.\" He handed me a pair of bifocals.\n\n\"I can see fine.\"\n\n\"Just try them on.\"\n\nI did as I was told. Looking around the room gave me no answers.\n\n\"Look through the smaller lenses.\"\n\nSuddenly laughter floated through my ears and I could see crowds jostling for seats in the lobby. Everywhere there were people, in suits and hats and dresses and handbags in styles almost a hundred years old. Some were dancing, others were pulling the levers on slot machines. Several were singing around a piano man who was having the time of his life.\n\nI looked back at the desk and my old man was gone, replaced with a younger soul with the same shining eyes.\n\n\"Well, what do you see, sir?\"\n\n\"Is this the real hotel?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\"Then what is Westwickam?\"\n\n\"That's something else.\"\n\nI lifted the lenses and looked again. Nobody but the old man.\n\n\"I need to get back. I have to work.\"\n\n\"Keep the glasses, sir. They may come in handy sometime.\"\n\nI nodded and disappeared the way I'd come.\n\n---------\n\nr/GubbinalWrites\n\n"
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[WP] After labelling Earth as a wild wasteland for millenia, a group of Alien scientists finally lands to study the native lifeforms, only to find a Roman legion deployed in front of them.
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"\"Will these monkeys ever learn?\" Retek asked his companion, looking at the confused line of Romans, even though he knew the answer.\n\n\"I don't think so, this is, what? Sixth? Seventh time they do this?\" Said Alma while eating an apple, the only thing she liked on this planet.\n\n\"Eighth\" responded Retek letting out a heavy sigh. \"Let's just do the mandatory scans and leave, I'm sick of this place\"\n\nAlma nodded as she threw away the core of the apple, she didn't like that part. They entered the spaceship as the Romans started to advance on their position.\n\n\"What do you think, how will they kill themselves this time?\" Asked Alma while flying over a boot shaped peninsula.\n\n\"Well, considering that they used biological weapons 6 out of eight times, from a purely statistical perspective my bet is on that.\"\n\n\"Eh. I've got a feeling it will be nuclear weapons this time around.\"\n\n\"What makes you think that?\" Retek looked curiously at Alma. He never liked this game. Alma liked it however, so he played along.\n\n\"They seemed very warlike. Last time they thought we are gods, now they tired to attack us right away.\"\n\n\"We were just lucky last time, I'm sure we could find some that would treat us like gods this time around as well. They've got a few thousand years, maybe they will calm down sometime in the future, maybe they won't even kill themselves this time.\"\n\n\"Fools hope. There's always something, sooner or later they will do something stupid and we will find a desolate planet the next time around.\" Said Alma while they approached the outer layer of the planets atmosphere. It was quite beautiful from up here. She always thought letting humans live here was a waste of a good planet.\n\n\"You're probably right. We are done here, let's check up on Alpha Centauri.\""
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[WP] In a world of magic healers are the most powerful of mages and only a few of them exist. You have just discovered your healing powers.
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"From my place on the front porch, sitting in the white rocking chair that complained with each rock, I watched my baby brother play with the overly aggressive neighbor on our dry farmland. \nConcern molded my features into an overprotective mother goose as baby John, who wasn't so much of a baby anymore; wrestled with the older boy who lived four acres down. \nThe boy, Travis, meant no harm. He was eight and John was six; the age gap was all too noticeable in the difference of height and strength between the two boys. He played rougher and expected more from the littler boy, and I had already spoken sharply to him twice about playing nicely. I was trying to refrain from doing it again. \n\"C'mon, John! Tackle me again!\" \n\"I can't, you're too fast!\" My baby brother pouted, and I bit back the urge to call the game quits and take John back inside. \n\"I won't be too fast this time, honest! C'mon, tackle me!\" \nI watched John's face twist into attempted fury, and raw determination etched in every frowning line in his baby features. Crouching low for only a second, his back foot launched him into a quick sprint before his small body collided with the older boy, knocking him back a few steps. \nTo my dismay, and no doubt John's, the boy did not fall. I raised my hands to clap for him anyways when he was suddenly thrust from Travis in a vicious throw that tossed his little body like a rag doll to the ground; slamming his head into a sharp rock sticking out from the dirt.\n\"John!\" I gasped, and leaped from the rocking chair, sprinting towards the body that made no move to stand. \n\"John!\" I screamed again, pushing passed the horrid boy who stood dumbfounded, staring down at his victim with an expressionless face. \nMy knees collided with the Earth as I fell beside my baby brother, rolling him over onto his back and into my arms. A horrified cry escaped my lips as the familiar face lay hidden beneath hot, sticky blood. His eyes did not open, his mouth did not move. \nI panicked. There were no doctors close enough to arrive in time to save him. There was nothing I could do, I wouldn't know where to begin! \n\"Can...can I do anything?\" A sheepish voice came from behind me. The sound of that boy's voice twisted my face into a burning rage. I wanted to kill him. \n\"No!\" I screamed, cradling my baby brother to my chest and standing to my feet; swaying beneath the weight of him. \"You rotten boy! Go home!\" \n\"I'm sorry...\" He spoke again, contrite, scared. I didn't care, I moved past him roughly, carrying John's limp body up the stairs of the porch and into the house. \nInside the kitchen, I laid him gently on the counter, knocking plates and glasses to the floor that shattered upon impact. \nGrabbing a clean rag from a nearby drawer, I soaked it beneath the water in the sink while applying a dry one to the bleeding wound above his eye. I traded the rags out once in awhile, cleaning the blood from his face with the wet cloth, and reapplying the dry cloth to his forehead. \nThis continued until the bleeding lessened. I managed to wipe away most of the blood around the wound to get a better view, and nearly fell in horror at the site of the hole in his skull; the noticeable divot in his head that indicated his skull had broken. \nThe blood drained from my face, my heart pounded so heavily against my ribs, I thought I might faint. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think. \nI dropped the rag and stared at the tiny body that breathed unevenly, shallowly. I wrapped my arms around him once more and sunk to the ground, careful to mind his head. \n\"John...\" I groaned in agony, holding him so close to me I thought I might break him. \"Oh God, John... please.\" I cried a cry that was raw, foreign, unfamiliar to my ears. My tears fell on his face, leaving clean trails in the drying blood that continued to slowly seep from the wound. \nMy body trembled violently in fear and disbelief as my mind tormented me with the thoughts I couldn't push away. \nHe's so young.\nHe's all you have. \nYou had one responsibility. \nYou let him die. \nNo, no, NO! - My thoughts screamed back. He would be okay, it would be okay. I wasn't alone yet, I could save him. I lifted my head from the crook of his neck and stretched my arm over my head for the phone sitting on the kitchen island. \nI could barely reach it, my fingernails scratching at the coiled cord until the phone fell from the receiver. I scrambled to pick it up from the floor, and called the only person in the area I knew who could help him. \n\"Hello?\"\n\"Ned! Ned, it's Emily! I need you to come here, John fell down and hit his head, there's a lot of blood, he's not waking up, I think he's seriously hurt, and-\"\n\"Emily,\" A whisper, barely audible, like a faint sound carried by the breeze, drifted in my ears from below. My eyes flicked down, the phone forgotten in my hand. \"Emily.\" \nBaby John stared up at me, eyes bright, wound disappeared, blood gone, breathing, ALIVE. \n\"John?\" Relief, and confusion washed over me. But... how? I hugged him to my chest, gripping at him frantically as I cried once again, joyfully, triumphantly. \n\"Ahhhh, Emily staahhhppp.\" His muffled voice rose from my shirt as his arms tried to push me away. \n\"John!\" I pulled back to look at him. \"How are you here! What happened?\" \n\"What..? I dunno...\" He looked confused, uninterested. He didn't seem to remember any of it. \"Why is there so much broken glass on the floor..? Where's Travis?\" He pulled away from my limp grasp, staring into my dumbfounded expression. \"You okay..?\"\n\"I, uh... Yes. I'm so happy you're okay.\" \n\"Hey!\" Suddenly he was on his feet, glass crunching beneath his shoes, staring out the window as the sound of approaching tires could be heard on the gravel. \"Looks like Ned's pickup! Let's go say hi!\" He was out the door before I could stop him. I stood and watched from the kitchen window as Ned rushed from his truck and ran to John, nearly colliding with the boy.\nI watched as Ned brushed the hair from John's brow, studying his forehead for the wound that should have been there, but wasn't. \nConfused, Ned stood. I watched his face as he turned and met my eyes through the window. He looked grim, confused, serious, in awe... \nAnd I knew it could only mean one thing. ",
"Yeah, there was no point denying it. Not a single drop of blood (and it had been a pretty deep cut as well). Fifteen years working with heavy machinery and this is how I discovered it? Stupid Kazuo; I could have easily stayed home, browse trough series on netflix that neither of us would realisticly ever give a chance before going to bed early with his arm around me. For him every friday had to be something special. It had started out small, some quirky little board game he dug out from a box in the attic, but escalated far to quickly. Underground Salsa Clubs, experimental pottery exhibitions, concerts with indie rock bands that were so new they lacked a drummer. And now I sat here, a grown woman, almost crying over not bleeding in my finger in a suspiciously clean bathroom stall at the local community centre. I guess I should feel lucky, guess I should be happy that I was chosen. But I wasn't. I never asked to become the next Mother bloody Theresa. I'd always wanted to live my life as I preferred my steaks: boringly conventional and with a large helping of mashed potatoes. \n\"El? Are you in here?\", it was him. Although I didn't answer it was hard to miss my sniveling. \n\"What happened sweetie? They're worried out there you know? Even Peter almost burned his almonds\", his voice was as assuring as ever. Even if I had no idea how he would react I turned open the hatch to my stall without a doubt in my mind. As he opened the door my eyes found his, those gorgeous dark eyes that I had stared into for hours on end. He didn't say a single word, he didn't have to. I gestured to him to come closer and as he put his hand on my arm I showed him my finger. At first he didn't seem to get it, but as soon as he did I could see on his face that the gears were turning inside his head. And then he looked wide-eyed at me again, just about to say something. But he stopped himself and his expression disappeared. Instead he embraced me and whispered something smoothly in my ear: \n\"You don't have to tell anyone Elouise. I'll support you whatever you choose\"."
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[WP] As an adult Harry Potter can still speak parseltongue and befriends a snake. They become inseperable and do everything together.
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"\"Psst. Psst. Over here.\"\n\nHarry whirled around, whipping out his wand as he went. The sound had come from the bushes. \"Lumos,\" he uttered, the phoenix feather wandtip glowing with an otherworldly light.\n\nNo one. No sudden flying broomstick, no curses being fired at him, just a clump of bushes in the Forbidden Forest staring back at him. \n\n\"Revelio!\"\n\nOne of the bushes glowed with a green light. Harry dropped back into a dueling stance, ready to fight whatever had been calling out to him. He was not prepared to see a giant snake slithering out, however.\n\n\"Greetingsssss... amigo,\" it said. Harry nearly yelled out in surprise. A snake? \n\n\"No, no no no, this is impossible,\" he muttered under his breath. He felt his forehead for his scar. He could still sense no pain.\n\nIf so, then why on earth was a snake talking to him?\n\n\"Merlin's bloody beard,\" he said, employing one of Ron's choicest swear words. \"How- how do you know me?\" \n\nThe snake cocked its head, as if it had not understood what Harry was trying to say. He caught himself and concentrated hard. The familiar memories of Parseltongue came rushing back. \"I said, how do you know me?\" \n\n\"I'm ssssorry for not sssaying my name,\" it replied. \"I'm Lucassss, we have met sssome yearssss ago.\"\n\nHarry frowned as he tried to remember. Then it clicked. \"You're the boa constrictor from the zoo when I was eleven! But... gosh, that must have been what, nineteen years ago?\"\n\n\"Yessss,\" it said, its head rising a few feet off the ground. Harry squatted down to face the snake- Lucas eye to eye. Its skin colour was significantly more muted than Harry remembered, and it seemed to have been bigger once, although his memories of that hilarious escapade at the zoo was from a long time ago.\n\n\"You look- different than I remembered. Didn't you want to go back to Brazil?\" Harry felt slightly awkward talking to it. What did you even say to a snake? Barring the conversation at the zoo all those years ago, this was the longest amount of time he'd ever spent with a snake. \n\n\"Indeed, amigo... I have need of your- asssssissstance... to return to my native land.\" The snake almost looked sad, as if it were about to start crying. Harry just stared at it. Rogue Death Eaters, he could handle. Raising kids with Ginny, he could manage (barely). But helping a snake? Suddenly, Harry wasn't so sure.\n\n\"I'll have to bring you back to my friends,\" he decided at last. \"Lucas, right?\" To which the snake nodded. \n\nUnzipping his rucksack, he took out a few books on Defense Against the Dark Art and stowed them away in his Mokeskin pouch, which he had previously used an Undetectable Extension Charm on. Opening the rucksack wider, he motioned to the huge boa constrictor, patiently waiting on the Forest floor.\n\n\"Sorry it's a slight squeeze,\" he said sheepishly. \"But it's better than slithering, so hop in.\"\n\n***\n\"So you were taking a stroll in the Forest,\" began Ron, incredulously. Harry nodded. Hermione and Ginny were staring at Lucas, Hermione in particular muttering a few of Ron's swear words under her breath.\n\n\"Then you heard-\" he pointed to Lucas- \"L-Lucas here calling out to you?\" Ron shook his head. \"And you're telling me, it-\"\n\n\"He,\" Harry corrected him. On the journey back via the Hogwarts Express, Harry and the snake had full reign of the train, seeing as he was only there to give an opening guest lecture for the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. \n\nOver the long ride back to King's Cross, they had swapped quite a few stories, mostly concerning snakes. Lucas was especially interested in hearing about Nagini, noting that he had \"heard rumoursssss of the Dark Lord having a pet sssserpent\", but nothing more on the subject.\n\n\"Alright, he, then. What I mean is, why in the name of Merlin's most baggy y-fronts can you suddenly speak Parseltongue? This makes no sense, and you know it, Harry.\"\n\n\"If I may-\" Lucas interjected, but Ron shot a glare at him. \"What did he say?\"\n\nIt was Ginny's turn to glare at Ron. \"Don't be rude, Ron.\" She had developed a particular soft spot for animals, ever since James had started taking an interest in Pygmy Puffs. \"What's he saying, Harry?\" She went over to stand by Harry's side.\n\nLucas continued. \"If I may, I'm not a real snake.\" Harry stared in surprise. This was news to him, as Lucas had only talked about his life after escaping the zoo. \n\n\"I'm an Animagus,\" he said. As Harry repeated the words for the benefit of the rest, the room fell silent. Suddenly, a young boy of no more than 5 rushed into the room. \n\n\"Mommy, James doesm't wanna play with me!\" He pouted slightly. Hermione laughed, Ginny rolling her eyes at the disturbance. Albus seemed to have not noticed the snake in the room, only intent on getting someone to play with.\n\n\"Alright, I'll come,\" said Ginny, following Albus out and giving the others an exasperated sigh. Harry winked at her as she exited, then refocused his attention on Lucas. \n\n\"If it- he's telling the truth, then why hasn't he transformed himself?\" Ron was still skeptical.\n\n\"Maybe he's- stuck somehow?\" Hermione wondered aloud. She waved her wand, Summoning a roll of parchment and a quill. \n\n\"We need to find Mcgonagall,\" she said, as Ron and Harry exchanged looks. \"She's the only one who can help us.\"\n\n\nPart 2 coming soon!"
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[WP] Your loved one died on the day of your wedding. You were given the opportunity save their life but in exchange, you had to disappear from their life and never return. 10 years later, you open the front door and their right in front of you.
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"Her hair is an ashy blonde now, not red. That's the first thing that registers. \n\nThe next thing that registers is that her lips are moving, and my blood is pounding in my ears far too loudly for me to make out anything that she's saying. After that, it's that I'm holding the front door handle so tightly that my hand's begun to cramp up. Then I can feel sweat prickling on the back of my neck. \n\nShe's still talking, the small scar along her upper lip (*it was from a cold sore, she'd had it since she was sixteen, it was an icebreaker on our first date all those years ago*) bobbing as her mouth opens and closes. There's a clipboard under her arm, a blue pen behind her ear-- does she have a petition? Is she looking for donations? \n\nI can finally hear her voice over my own heartbeat. Sweet, melodic, like a tinkling bell and more beautiful than any music I could hope to write. \"...and I was hoping that I could put your name down for--\" \n\n\"Um. Yeah, of course,\" I stammer. It's the first thing that pops into my head. She smiles, a pull of the lips and a flash of teeth, the same kind of smile she'd given me when I'd asked her, be honest, it won't offend me, did you think my mother's cod was actually *that* good? She takes the pen out from behind her ear and holds the clipboard out to me, still grinning. There's a thin silver wedding band on her ring finger. Ours had been thicker, rose gold, mine still in the box from the jeweler's, pushed to the back of one of my bureau drawers. She's wearing the same red sweater she'd worn that day, the day of the accident, the hem of her favorite purple tank top sticking out at the bottom, over her jeans.\n\nI shake my head and look down at the paper. There are nothing but lines swimming in front of my eyes, and I find the first one with no signature on it, scrawl my name. \n\nI hand the clipboard back to her and blink a few times. She's still there, a blonde instead of the redhead I'd known, a silver band on her finger instead of the one I was going to put there, radiant and beautiful and healthy, makeup flawless, none of the cuts or bruises or dried blood or sallow skin that she'd had after. \n\n\"Thank you,\" she looks down at my name, \"Brian.\" \n\nI don't know what I'm hoping for when she says my name-- a flicker of recognition, maybe. I nod and try to swallow. \"Y-you're welcome. Laura.\" She'd probably introduced herself while you couldn't hear her, my brain tells me, it won't seem creepy if you use her name. \n\n(*Is the universe trying to play a joke on me?* They told me I would never see her again, that was the deal to bring her back. She'd stay far away, that she'd have a new instinct to avoid any place that we'd-- I'd --frequented the years we were together. I couldn't seek her out, and she wouldn't seek me out. She wouldn't remember anything that happened between us. Neither would her friends, or her family, and neither would mine. Those memories would be mine to carry, mine alone.) \n\nShe nods, smiles that glowing smile again. \"Well. I won't keep you any longer. Thanks again.\" \n\nIt's not until I shut the door and stand alone in my front hall that I realize I've been holding my breath. "
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[WP] One day, depressed you opens up Reddit again while procrastinating. As you browse, you find that somehow some tabs you didn't remember opening are open and the posts seem to have a common theme.
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"NSFW: language \n\nThe cursor has been flashing in the same excel box for... well I don't really know. My mind is becoming unaware of itself it seems. I glance up and realize I've somehow managed to type in last week's profit and lose numbers, but I don't even remember knowing them. Did I make these up?\nI grab the summary paper off the paper playground I've been calling a work station and glance at the number. Yep it's right. \n\nI'm just not feeling this right now. I'm so incredibly bored. I can't focus. My head hurts.\n\nI need entertainment. Something to reignite a shred of humanity in my desert of a mind. \n\nI click open my browser and start scrolling through the front page of reddit. Garbage post. Memes I've seen a hundred times and news reports from websites I've never heard of. A post from r/funny that has made it to the front page too many times to still strike up conversation.... 782 comments. How is there anything left to say about this damn picture? Wait. I unsubscribed to r/funny.... what in the hell?\n\nI check the user name. U/throwaway3748493y. What the fuck. That's not me. Who's been using my computer? \n\nI notice there's 6 other tabs open. When did I open these? I always close all my tabs. I can stand my desk being a mess, but not my edesk. \n\nI close the reddit tab and it brings me to the first open tab.\n\nWhen did I Google cctv cameras? Why did I Google them? Did I open this tab? Gosh, I must of been bored. I'm losing so much time daydreaming, trying to entertain my imagination. Maybe I was going to start recording myself. See how long I space out for. See what I do. I have been losing a lot of time lately. I guess....\n\nNo that's stupid. I'm not doing that. I'm bored sure. But not rich and this things like $500 dollars. \n\nI close the cctv tab and it brings up the next one.\n\nSome alarm company. Probably a pop up that opened with the cctv ad. Gosh has my town in it. GEO tagging advertising is creepy as shit.\n\nI close that tab and hopefully any connection the NSA has. Bastards are always watching. I pause and look away from the camera. Damn, Webcam is probably watching me. \n\nI give it a nudge so it falls back behind the monitor. And take my attention back to the newly open tab. \n\nIt's some personal records website and the name looks so familiar. It's deep in my head somewhere. Ringing some Bell. I had to search this. But when. And who was it. Who the hell is Jim Bryer and why does that sound so familiar. I scrolling down. Gosh. This guy's a nut case. Numerous arrest for breaking and entering. Stalking charges. How the hell do I know that name? Jim.... maybe someone from work? \n\nAs I scroll and read more about him I feel myself getting more freaked out. Broke out of a mental institution. \n\n...\n\nA noise just came from down stairs I'm sure of it.\n\n...\n\nUh. I'm freaking myself out it was nothing. Now I wish I wouldn't of closed that tab on the cctv. I'd sure like to see downstairs right now.\n\nMy attention finds it way back to this page.\n My leg starts bobbing a thousand miles a minute. This guy's a real sicko. Attempted murder. Fuck Jim, you need Jesus. Why does his name sound so familiar Jim Breyer. Jim Jim Jim. Gosh I'm so bored. This is dumb. \n\nI close the tab and it opens the ....\n\nWas that a noise in the hall...\n\nNo. Don't be stupid. You're letting your imagination get to you. Boredom is a dangerous thing to an over active imagination. \n\nI bring myself back to the monitor.\n \"Jim Breyers known alias:\nJack Baring\nJohn Beeter\nJake bing\nClick for more and photo\"\n\nThese are stupid names. This guy isn't very creative. I click it\n\nBOOM. A sound rips through my ears. Drowning my whole world. Emptying my thoughts. I'm so bored. A fall backward. And as I lay there I'm staring into the face of a very odd looking man. He has no expression at all. He's blank. Is that Jim? Has he gotten me! I roll onto back back and glance at the door. There's a mad looking woman. She's laughing. She's holding a gun. She doesn't seem to bored. I realize I'm holding my side I bring my hands up to my face. They're covered in red. It's blood. These crazy mother fuckers are going to kill me. I try to move but I'm can't. The woman walks over and she looks right at me. Points the gun at my head. She's not laughing she's crying. Lunatic. I look past her at my computer screen. I see my picture and the name Joe Byron under it. Why am I on the screen I wonder. That's boring. "
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[WP] A siren of old times has just angered the gods. As a punishment she is flung forward in time to the 21st century; However this is no punishment. She uses the new found surroundings to hunt the most prominent of men in a truly bizarre manner.
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"\"Be on your guard Sterling,she's been suspected of killing three people\" \n“Really this little thing right here?” Sterling peered into the polaroid \n“Killer or no she does know how to rock a dress” \nMargery quipped “She’s looks pretty hot doesn’t she?” \n“Im sorry Marg I’m a feminist. Objectifying women is a big no no for me” \nMargery rolled her eyes“Well she isn’t just a pretty face.Two platinums already by my count” \n“And she doesn’t deserve a single one.Her music sucks” \n“What? I thought all dudes loved her songs” \n“Oh they do?I must have missed the memo all of us guys get in our annual guy meeting” \n“Meh I suppose it’s a gay thing” \n“That’s homophobic” \n“Not if I say it” \n“Ass” \n“Love you too doll” \nThe buick rolled into the grounds of the newly furbished mansion.\nSterling whistled “Looks like shes doing pretty well for herself” \n“A hundred thousand record sales in a year can do that for you” \n“Im betting atleast three fourths of that was bought by a crazy dictator looking to lose some cash.How long has she been doing this anyways?” \n\"Just a year.Popped into the scene about 9 months ago.It took a month for her to get her first record deal\" \n\"Hmm she from Jersey?\" \n\"As I said she just popped into the scene.No know relatives hell this is her first public address.Its almost like she popped into existence \" \n\"Hmm thats kind of sketchy\" \n\"Hey strange is the new sexy\" \nThe buick skidded to a halt. Ligea Agel was waiting for them in the driveway.\n\"Ma'am\" sterling tipped his hat.He thought he heard Margery sigh.\n\"Please call me Ligea Detective\" \nShe seemed to float towards him and extended her hand.Sterling feeling a little unnerved took it.\n\"My that's a strong grip you have Detective\"\nShe lingered for a while and turned towards the stairs.She paid Margery no heed.\n\"Please come in\" \nSterling shivered.He felt something off about the singer,though he couldnt quite put his finger on what.\nHe let out a gasp as he felt Margerys elbow digging into him.\n\"Sterling!I think I'm in love\" \n\nNote:Im trying to get a detective story with a femme fatale angle going here.Think I should continue?"
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[WP] You love life simulation games. You revel in designing urban landscapes and people, who live their little digital lives under your charge. However, things get weird when you start hearing their prayers in your dreams.
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"Based on the game: Banished\n\n The first time it happened John thought nothing of it. Just a dream, things like that happen to him all the time. It was the second time it happened that John become concerned. It felt so... real. The third time it happened John awoke in the middle of their cries for help and sprung out of bed to answer their calls. John opened the save file to his village he had worked on for so many hours. Everything seemed to be in place. The adults were doing their various jobs, the kids were still in school, and the infants were playing in the fields. But John was not satisfied yet. He could feel it in my bones, still hear their cries in his mind. Should he contact the developers? No, they would think he was just crazy. John closed the game, and a thousand voices cried out in terror. John too let out a scream, and suddenly... silence. He looked back at the screen, and realized his big mistake. He had forgotten to hit save!\n\n It took John a week before he could bring myself to open the game again. The voices were gone, but a nagging for playing was becoming stronger and stronger each passing day. The need to open the simulation and make a town thrive was to great to put off any longer. He hit 'New Game.' and saw the two families on screen with their barn and a wagon of supplies. Only they didn't wander around or spread out like they usually did. They just stood there, staring at the screen. He felt like a fool, but he couldn't take it any longer. He had to say something\n\n\"H-hello?\"\n\n\"You killed them John. You're a murderer.\" Their voices felt like little needles piercing into my mind. It sent shivers all throughout my body. \n\n\"But I- I didn't...\"\n\n\"You're going to kill us now, aren't you John?\" Their mouths were too small to see if they moved.\n\n\"No! No I'm not a murderer!\" \n\n\"Then you have to be careful John. You will have to do what we say, and do it when we say it.\"\n\n\"Yes I will, I will!\"\n\n So it began that John carried his laptop everywhere with him, randomly opening it up at the strangest places, mumbling in such a low voice no one could understand what was being said. One day John was driving, where or why is not known. What is known that John decided that going on his laptop was more important than paying attention to driving any more.\n\n Five were injured and two were dead, one of which was a kid. John himself lay in a hospital bed, crying and moaning. Doctors said it wasn't because of the deaths he caused or the guilt of his actions, but couldn't figure out the real reason behind it. The truth is it was the reason John was crying and moaning. Because of all the deaths he caused and the guilt that he had. It just wasn't the family on the sidewalk that he was upset about. ",
"\"That's because it's a dream,\" Tom said. \"Weird shit happens in dreams.\"\n\nSheila shook her head. \"No, you don't get it! Like, I had a dream that Lilah and Riley would make a good couple, right? So I put them together and it happened!\"\n\n\"Sheila, how long have you been playing this game?\"\n\n\"A year or so,\" Sheila said, understating.\n\n\"Right, and how do you know if two of the characters are right for each other?\"\n\nThis was a topic she could talk about for quite a while. \"Well there are a lot of factors, interests, semicompatible genomes, pheremones - regular people don't have them but the game has an equivalent to stand in for body language, and-\"\n\n\"I get it,\" Tom said. \"The point is, you know everything about this game. So if you're dreaming that two characters are asking you to get together, all that is is your brain applying that knowledge.\"\n\n\"But I had a dream that Phoebe wanted a second story to her house, and I built it, and she loved it,\" Sheila insisted.\n\nTom just nodded. \"Is there any character that wouldn't like a second story to their house?\"\n\nSheila didn't meet his gaze. \"Characters like extra room, it's hardcoded,\" she muttered.\n\n\"I didn't hear that,\" Tom lied.\n\n\"Fine!\" She said. \"Don't believe me.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" Tom said. \"I totally believe you. Why just yesterday my pokemon were telling me to cut the grass.\"\n\n\"Funny,\" Sheila said.\n\n\"It's true! And of course the digimon thought I was spending too much time with the pokemon, but I think we both know which is the more popular franchise.\"\n\n\"I get it, Tom! You don't believe me *and* you're a jackass.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Tom said, \"As the Suezo from Monster Rancher once told me-\"\n\n\"Gah!\" Sheila threw up her hands in frustration and left.\n\nThat night, she had a dream. The first characters she'd ever created were an in-game version of her, and an in-game version of Tom. Game Sheila had a prayer: Break up with Game Tom.\n\nGood advice, Game Sheila. Good advice."
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[WP] It seemed a good idea yesterday.
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"It seemed like a good idea yesterday. \n\nHowever, now that I'm looking at it in the blindingly sober daylight, I can see that I was terribly wrong. \nIt barely even fits in the near minuscule space of my apartment.\n\n Crammed in the living room between the couch and the TV, there's no space for me to even enter that specific room. Which is why I'm standing in my kitchen trying to figure out how to get rid of the damn thing. \nDrunk me obviously thought I'd get a hoot out of it, the bastard. How wrong he was. \n\nI mean, there's not even enough room for me to use the freaking thing, let alone put it somewhere out of the way until I can find someone to take it off my hands. \n\nWhat the hell was drunk me thinking? \n\nThat I'd invite my friends over and we all have a good time? Not freaking likely. There's not enough space! \n\nNow I have the stupidly obnoxious task of finding out where drunk me got the damn thing from in the first place, and how to get my money back. \n\nWho in the hell wants a damn ski-ball machine in their apartment anyways!?"
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[WP] A WW2 tank crew is sent to scout an abandoned French castle. The crew spends the night with their tank in the castle. The next morning they awake to see a bustling crowd of people dressed in medieval looking clothing roaming in and around the area.
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"\"Wh-where are we?\" Private Wyldes stammered.\n\nThe view from the tank had dramatically changed since last night. The deserted French castle had stood on a hill, it's crumbling walls overlooking the skeletal remains of a forest. A ditch of sludge had ran around the outer wall, any drawbridge had long since rotted away. \n\nThe walls were now pristine, the masonry immaculate. The forest outside the high walls and drawbridge was green, and full. An actual moat ran around the castle, large enough to hold multiple scaly alligators abreast.\n\nAnd the people, all dressed in fourteenth century peasantry clothes of scratchy wool, went about their lives as if nothing odd was happening, only occasionally throwing worried glances at the imposing Sherman tank. \n\n\"That's a good question Private,\" growled Sergeant O'Malley. \"Looks like we've walked right into some sort of demented... reenactment or something.\"\n\n\"Sir, I'm not so sure this is one oh-them reenactments things,\" said Private Blackwood, his drawl flaunting it's colors. \"My cousin dragged me along to one oh-them things once, ain't had no real swords or none of that,\" he said, indicating the concerned guards pulling their steel.\n\n\"Now ain't that something,\" O'Malley muttered. \"Open the hatch Blackwood, make contact with whomever these people are. Wyldes! Get on the gun. If any of these here Frenchies make an aggressive move, you will blow them to the moon, understand? Good, now go!\"\n\nAs Blackwood opened the hatch on the Sherman tank, the guards broke into a full charge. The peasants scattered. They had assumed that this hulking beast of metal was some sort of... odd experiment by the famous wizard that encompassed the castle. The screeching of the metal -- indicating the opening of the hatch -- and the guards pulling steel -- something that hadn't been needed in the castle itself in over five years -- challenged those assumptions. As did the ensuing blast.\n\nThe term, \"shell shocked,\" cannot be applied more accurately to a situation than this one. The stunned, horrified, and numbed faces of peasant and guard alike was almost comical. The tank shell had been launched at the feet of the charging guards. Blood, dirt, and body parts sprayed the crowd of silent, still faces. The sound was deafening, a roar like that of a thunderclap, like that of a god, rampaged through any and all ears.\n\nPrivate Blackwood flung the hatch wide, and open fired on the waiting crowd with a sub-machine gun. Soon, there were no more \"shell shocked\" faces.\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"
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[WP] Your family has passed down a power for generations: the power to, when you see what/who kills you, the person/thing glows red. You never expected to see yours at a place like this.
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"For generations my people had been cursed with the ability to see what would cause our death. I'd heard about the red glow for years. Now that I was in my thirties, I was starting to doubt it was real. Many families had myths of one sort or another. It was only natural that in a family with so many people who died in their prime we'd have created a myth to make it seem like it was outside our hands.\n\nUnlike the rest, I'd been living with some very poor health. No time to go to the doctor and the co-pay was above my ability to pay and stay housed and fed.\n\nI'd recently been laid off. The switch to Medicaid meant I'd had to find another doctor. That was okay with me. Given my health, it felt like providence. If there was a curse maybe I was the generation that'd break it.\n\nI'd happily checked in and began to wait. I heard a lot of grumbling from other patients as the hours ticked away, but what do these people expect? At least it was free.\n\n“Mr. Grey?” said a large nurse with a clipboard.\n\n“That's me,” I said as I stood up to follow her. In a matter of minutes I was weighed and measured, asked about what was wrong, taken to another room and asked to wait. And wait I did, until there was a short, loud knock at the door.\n\n“Come in!” I said.\n\nThe neon red glow around the elderly man before me made it difficult to look at him. What in the hell? He didn't look like a killer. Was this all in my head? Was stress sabotaging my visit?\n\nI gave him a rundown of my symptoms. The entire time I was squinting hard and looking away often. He scribbled notes down from time to time.\n\nHe took out a pen and had me follow it with my eyes. Then he took a closer look at them with a penlight while he asked me to look elsewhere.\n\n“Are you having a hard time with your vision, Mr. Grey?” he asked.\n\nI confirmed that I was, and explained the situation complete with the family mythology. He listened carefully, nodding often. \n\n“I'm going to write you a prescription. The nurse will give it to you on your way out. You need to take two a day on a full stomach,” he said, typing a few things into the computer, which was now glowing harder. \n\nThe nurse appeared, prescription in hand, glowing so hard I didn't chance looking at it directly. I grabbed it and quickly thrust it into my pocket, asking, “What is it for?”\n\n“It's a new antipsychotic,” she said, “Top of the line. We just had one of their representatives in this morning to tell us about it. You're very lucky. A long time ago people just had to live with their symptoms. It's amazing what modern technology can do.”",
"My wife was sleeping peacefully next to me. I smoothed a curl that clung to her neck and kissed her on the cheek. Lazily, she woke and smiled. \n\nWe moved for a while, kissing and generally enjoying ourselves. Eventually she sat up. She was beautiful like this. Hair wild, eyes bright. Naked in bed. \n\nI scanned her form slowly, enjoying her curves and the look on her face as she watched me. Her slender neck, sloping shoulders, perfect breasts, glowing stomach.... Wait what?\n\nMy heart sank. I strained my eyes, trying to convince myself that what I saw was just a trick of the light. \n\nThere was no mistake. \n\nMy wife was pregnant, and the child inside her would one day be my undoing. My family gift, knowing what person or thing would kill us, has never been more of a curse. \n\n\"Honey?\" My wife's concerned voice breaks through my thoughts. I force a smile on my face.\n\n\"Yes dear?\"\n\n------\nWill add more later",
"\"Hello there.\"\n\n\nI always thought that when this day would come, the first words might be tinged with malice. So when I heard such a simple greeting, I was rather surprised to be completely honest. And while we're being honest, that fact scared me more. Since the way things stood, I didn't know anything about the man in front of me, and I couldn't even determine if he was coming after me now or later. \n\n\nMy mother, before she had passed, had always warned me that there was no escaping one's fate. Yet I could never bring myself to accept such a depressing conclusion. I always told myself that when I ran into whatever was planning on kill me, that I'd find someway to avoid it. If it were a mugger then I'd shoot first, if it were a ladder, I'd stay the hell away. Surely I had this power for some reason beyond getting a few moments to make my peace. \n\n\nYet now that enemy finally stood before me, and I had no idea where to turn. I never suspected that my enemy would be the doorman to a hotel I'd never set foot in before. What made things worse, was that I knew nothing about him, and judging from his tone of voice, he had no real care for me either. Narrowing down the cause was exponentially higher in something as unclear as this scenario. All I knew was that this man would be my death. It could be the result of a freak accident, or he could be some sort of serial killer picking his prey at random. \n\n\n\"Are you alright sir?\"\n\n\nHis words startled me once more, as I realized that I had been frozen in my thought. The bustering assortment of other guests behind me, were already beginning to question the hold up. All I knew was that I had to remove myself immediately. \n\n\n\"Sorry,\" I stumbled, \"I uh, seem to have... mixed up my reservation. I'm actually staying at the Bes-Mobile 8 down the street.\" I wasn't so foolish as to wait and see if my ruse had worked, my bag in hand I made sure to immediately begin rushing towards the parking lot. \n\n\n\"Oh, well I'm sorry to hear that sir, please do come again.\"\n\n\nI was already well on my way by the time I heard those words echo towards me, yet this time I felt as if they were accompanied by some sort of sinister smile. Although perhaps that was simply paranoia at work, then again can it even be called paranoia if I knew the other man meant me harm?\n\n\nYet now was not the time for idle philosophical ramblings, I had to leave this city immediately if I wanted to have any chance at prolonging my life. I had no plans to stand by like my mother had as she succumbed to illness. My family had to have been given this power for a reason, and I intended to make the best use of it. Fate was not a doctrine I planned on letting confine me. \n\n\nThese were the thoughts that raced through my head, as I pulled away from flowing fountains and green lawns of the hotel. The aroma of roses still wafting into my car, as I turned onto the main road once more. For a brief moment I thought I glimpsed a red figure in my rear window, but I had to acknowledge that I wasn't in the most stable mental state at the moment. \n\n\nWith a sigh, I turned on my radio, before just as quickly shutting it off. As much as I loved Kansas, Dust in the Wind was hardly a fitting song for the occasion. I'd have much prefered Carry on my Wayward Son right now. \n\n\nIt felt like days that I was on the road, but in truth it was only a few hours before I pulled into a distant Super 8 under the cover of nightfall. I needed the chance to rest and plan my next moves. Plus I still had my trusty glock in the event that the doorman decided to make another unwanted occasion. It was only common sense then, that when I entered my room my first action was to grab my glock and load a fresh magazine. One could never be too careful after all. \n\n\n\"Aw, is that for me?\"\n\n \nI never knew that I could whip my arm around so fast, as my glock suddenly found itself at the head of the unknown voice. The moment my eyes saw that terrifying red glow, I didn't hesitate to unload. I wasn't about to take any chances.\n\n\nYet the sight before defied all explanation, as I saw the bullets stopped by a shimmering blue barrier. Through the translucent barrier I could see the other man's end, but I could only assume he was the cause of it's existence. \n\n\n\"Oh come now,\" the other man sounded disappointed, \"Don't look so surprised. Surely you didn't think you were the only one with powers. Even special snowflake protagonists don't stay special for the entirety of the story. There's always at least one villain on their level.\"\n\n\nI was sure how to respond, and to make matters worse my own muscles seemed to have failed me as I couldn't even find it in my body to sprint for the exit. \n\n\n\"I'm sure you've realized it, but you won't be able to move any time soon. I've locked down the muscles in your legs and arms. I mean I guess you could try doing some situps but well, who likes doing exercise when they're stressed.\"\n\n\nThat oppressive red my mother had always warned me about, continued to come closer all the while the man before me rambled on about things I could not quite understand. \n\n\n\"Also man, I'm disappointed that you had to lie to me about going to a, what did you call it? Bes-Mobile 8, I was kind of excited to find a hotel with that wacky of a name, instead we're just at another boring Super 8. There's not even aliens in this place.\"\n\n\nI had to find someway out, away from this madman.\n\n\n\"You look like you're struggling? Want a hand?\" \n\n\nI didn't have much choice in the matter, as I suddenly felt my own hand compress under the other man's heavy grip. Yet as I looked at the other man, I noticed that sickening grin fade to a blank face that failed illustrate any of the joy from before. Yet there was a singular comfort, in that the oppressive red had suddenly stopped. \n\n\n\"Apologies for earlier,\" there was no sadistic glee behind the words this time. Instead the other man felt strangely removed from everything, like he was still reading some interesting novel and had no time to spare for me. I started wondering if perhaps the red was gone, because I had suddenly been spared. \n\n\n\"That other persona that chose to communicate with you is an unfortunate tag along. He comes out every now and then. Don't pay him any mind.\"\n\n\n\"So, am I safe?\" I found myself asking, unsure of what else to say. \n\n\n\"No,\" the answer was abrupt and harsh, \"Right now this former power of yours is stuck at the level you knew, to maximize its potential I need to kill the old host.\"\n\n\nI didn't have time to decipher those words, as a sharp stabbing pain suddenly sent me into oppressive red once more. I suppose, mother had been right, you can't fight fate. \n\n\nBut at least I tried... right?\n\n*****\n\n*Well, I haven't written on here in a while, and this was admittedly rather rushed and written at 1 AM so feedback is always appreciated. I do plan on writing more stories from the perspective of the actual power stealer, and probably come back and proofread this one.*\n\n*Thanks again for the taking the time to read.*"
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[WP] It was proven that gods do indeed exist. They now live in a large TV at the rebuilt Pantheon. You decide to visit and talk to a few of them. Each channel features a different deity.
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"\"Settle down please everyone,\" said the squeaky voiced show anchor as he frantically tried to get the large crowd to take their places. \n\nThere was no way the Gods would agree to stay and answer questions for any longer than had been agreed upon, so a fifteen minute delay in starting the session would mean fifteen minutes less worth of questions being answered. Ofcourse, this would then lead to the audience being left unsatisfied and if there was one thing to fear more than the wrath of the Gods, it was the wrath of 200 unsatisfied tourists demanding refunds because they hadn't flown in from half way across the world to talk to the Gods for *only* 45 minutes. No sir, they needed that full hour before they could go home satisfied. \n\nAs everyone began to calm down, ready to be enlightened by the holy wisdom of the creators, a giant plasma television was wheeled in to the centre of the hall. Quite frankly, it didn't fit the surrounding decor well at all. However, the Gods had been quite adamant about using only that as a form of communicating with the humans. They had felt a radio to be too primitive and a hologram to be too show-*off-y*. \n\nQuickly, the show anchor turned on the television and tuned into *Channel 1*. The crowd murmured as they wondered who the man that had appeared on the screen was. He appeared to be using one of those *iMac Photobooth* filters which made it appear as if he was swimming with the fish in the sea. Paying no attention to the audience, the man amused himself by blowing fake bubbles in the water. \n\nThe anchor chirped, \"Uhhhhh, Nep? You're on\" \n\n\"Huh?\" said the man, looking fairly startled. He recomposed himself and looked towards the audience.\n\n\"Eyy, wadup it's yo' boy Neptune from the depths of the marinas. How's it going?\" he said, in a voice eerily similar to that of a kid talking over Minecraft gameplay on YouTube.\n\nThe crowd stirred, confused as to whether he was the real deal or some sort of gimmick. The majority seemed to be convinced of the latter. \n\nCutting through the awkwardness, the anchor picked a young girl in the front seat to be the first to ask the God of the Sea a question. \n\n\"Soooooo, you're the water God?\" she chirped. \n\n\"Mmhm.\" \n\n\"Prove it.\"\n\n\"What?\" \n\n\"Prove it.\"\n\nNeptune looked at the anchor, \"Archibald, the fuck is this?\" \n\nThe anchor let out a painfully forced laugh and ask the young girl to sit back down. \n\nShe refused. \n\n\"He hasn't answered my question yet,\" she shouted as Archie desperately attempted to get the microphone off her hand. \n\nVery quickly, the momentarily calm crowd once again started voicing its opinion. Some shouted at the anchor to leave the poor girl alone while others, as rebellious in attitude as the girl were inspired to question Neptune's powers. \n\n\"Archie...\" Neptune called out again, unable to process that people could be so disrespectful of his presence.\n\n\"You gotta listen to them man,\" Archie shrieked desperately, slowly backing away from the mass of people, \"These people, they don't negotiate man, you don't know. You gotta do it or they'll come for the both of us.\"\n\n\"I am a God. I created these puny nitwits.\"\n\n\"Nah nah nah man. You made the fish. They're alrite. You don't know these ones though.\"\n\n\"*Let's see about that*\"\n\nDrops of water began pouring from the sprinklers on the ceiling. \n\n-----\n\nWrote this on a whim. I'll continue it later if I get the time, or if anyone wants to read more.\n"
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[WP]A corrupt regime torments & persecutes dissenting individuals with electronic-assisted psycho-kinetic attacks. They try to burn a man's entire life down around him. This is nothing compared to his retaliation.
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"There's only so much you can take before you fall past the threshold. And when that happens... only two things can result...\n\nEither they become better because of it, calming and forcing themself back on the plateau... or they plunge into the abyss and become objects of chaos...\n\nFor John Gammel... it was the latter...\n\nJohn was an ex-police officer living in a dictatorship, convicted for rebellious thoughts. And so... he was set to be punished... by destroying everything that made him...\n\nFirst the mementos, memories of his life in the form of photos, all doused in fuel and burnt before him... \n\nThen came the gifts of his children, tossed into the open flame...\n\nThen came his treasured objects... burning up within seconds...\n\nThen... his family... forced to abandon him... his children crying as they were forced to leave...\n\nEverything that made John Edward Gammel was taken from him and destroyed...\n\nWhat does that do to a person? It pushes them, closer and closer to the edge of the plateau, facing the abyss of insanity... yet he remained on the edge, grasping onto the last of his sanity...\n\nAnd then they tore it from him, the object he treasure most... the last light in his world... the pendant was taken from him and crushed under the boot of the major...\n\nFor the longest time, this was the method of dealing with these people, unjust as it may be. Stamp out any trace of rebellion when it emerges and keep the people down, for so long it seemed impossible to retaliate...\n\nBut the population was a powder keg, just waiting for that spark... and it came when Gammel finally tipped over...\n\nAs he watched the pendant be shattered, part of him shattered also... in that moment, he let out an earth shattering roar. You could almost see the wave of telekinetic energy blasting everyone over, could feel the rage as he ripped the oppressors apart, the passion as he tore their buildings to shreds... the insane spark to the keg...\n\nIn that moment, the people returned his roar in defiance. With weapons in hand, they ran forward with John at the head, storming the government building\n\nThe battle was over within minutes, the chaos of the spark led the dictator to panic. There simply wasn't enough time to stop the attack...\n\nThey stormed the room, Gammel vaulted the desk with hammer in hand, connecting with the bastards temples. His roars soon became the only sounds as he swung the hammer again and again, pounding the dictator's face into nothing more than a puddle of blood, broken bone and grey matter...\n\nWhen the storm passed, Gammel finally broke... couldn't handle it all... his life was taken by his own hands in the end...\n\nWhen a man is pushed over the edge... two things happen... either they force themselves back or they plunge into the gaping abyss... you can't return from that abyss, not in Gammel's state..."
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[WP] When people feel insecure they ask a higher power for help. When the higher powers feel insecure, go to you.
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"When higher powers feel insecure they remember the fate of the universe.\n\nThe fate of the universe: all energies coalesce into the Infinitum which lives forever and is without birth or death.\n\nThe Infinitum recycles all energy infinitely. All universes are contained within the Infinitum and anything outside ceases to exist by evaporative radiation which the Infinitum instantly captures to repeat whatever process led to the decoupling, infinitely.\n\nIn other words. All things that happen must happen because everything happens in such a way to recreate the Infinitum infinitely and if it wasn't so, nothing could exist.\n\nBasically we created the Infinitum to avoid creating nothing from something.\n\nThe entire universe and everything in it is a non-starting non-terminating process that repeats forever. Enjoy your life. It's yours forever. Over and over and over.\n\nAnd the Infinitum treads water infinitely.\n\nthe end",
"**I wrote WAY more than I meant to, but I needed the space or else it would have been far too forced. Forgive me!**\n\n\nA bright yellow-tinted flare burst through the dark bedroom, announcing the arrival of \"The Messenger\". He walked around the side of the bed, looking down on a sleeping man, who seemed quite at peace. It was a shame, then, as he delivered a two-fingered poke at the man's shoulder to wake him. Stirring from slumber, he saw the Messenger standing over him with a solemn face and then let out a displeased grunt.\n\n\n\"Again?\" said the man.\n\n\n\"You know you will not deny us.\" replied the messenger.\n\n\n\"Name and place I need to be?\" the man shifted in bed, pulling the covers over his head so he didn't have to see the bright light emitted by the Messenger's body.\n\n\n\"You will go to the Cafe Blue. You know this place? Thee o'clock. Her name is Anna.\"\n\n\n\"Good. Anna. Got it... now would you please get fucked so I can rest?\" the man grunted while the Messenger vanished in the same flash he'd arrived in.\n\n\nThis was all too common for Cameron, who was by all counts just your average man. He worked a low paying job in the middle of town with bad hours and no future. Despite this, he was special in one very odd way- the gods needed him. While it wasn't just him they used, it was people of his ilk. People who had lived hard lives, or were raised with compassion in their hearts. \n\n\nThe gods themselves were detached, and while they heard prayers for help, they simply didn't care. To them, the mortal world was a dull noise in the background which never silenced it's constant pleading. They put answering many of those voices onto other mortals, like Cam. Out-sourcing their divine power through apathy.\n\n\nCam arrived at the cafe ten minutes early, as he did in these situations. He waited and watched, and when he heard an order come up for 'Anna' at the counter, he went into action. Watching the woman who took the order, he'd let her sit down and start to eat before finally moving to her table. \n\n\n\"Excuse me. This is terribly awkward. May I ask what that is you're having today, ma'am?\" Cam started with a guarded entry to gauge her response. He knew the problem already, because of his specialty. \n\n\n\"This? It's a salad. Just your normal, run of the mill...\" she was cut off by Cam.\n\n\n\"No no, I'm sorry. You're right, it is a salad, but I should have been more specific. That's my fault. I meant emotionally. Is it depression? Stress? Loneliness? Like I said, this is terribly awkward, for both of us.\" \n\n\nAnna looked shocked at first, then worried. Rightfully so in any normal sense of the situation. She started to pack her lunch up as if she was about to leave. She wondered who this random man was who so suddenly and casually asked her a thing so personal, and she'd have none of it.\n\n\n\"Now...hold on. Look, it's not like it seems. Hear me out a second. Listen, my name is Cameron and I just noticed it written all over you. You don't look... well... happy. I spend my day talking to a lot of unhappy people. You could say I'm a social worker, so it's just sorta second nature to me now. Please, stay and chat. It might do you some good.\"\n\n\n\"Social worker? I don't need a social worker. I'm totally fine and capable on my own, thank you.\" There was a hint of frustration in her tone, if a little fear mixed in.\n\n\n\"Suit yourself- but we all hold in our own demons. Don't go. I was the one in the wrong here, and I'll leave you be.\" Cameron stood up like he was going to go, and Anna let out a huff, taking the risk of asking her own question. \n\n\n\"How? How did you just look at me and know?\"\n\n\n\"It's in your brows. Your stress is resting there. Again, sorry to have bothered you.\" \n\n\n\"Wait, hold on- please. Sit down? I just got freaked out by it. Tell me more about your job? How do you just look at a person and know?\"\n\n\n\"You meet enough of the same pain, you just get to know it's face. Want to talk about it? I'm a stranger that promises not to judge. Hell, you won't ever see me again anyway, right?\"\n\n\n\"I... Look, I live with some people who are a problem. They're not real good on rent and I already live in what's basically a closet. I just don't like my circumstances in life right now and I want out... I just can't afford out yet.\" \n\n\n\"Let me tell you a story while you eat your salad. You could use the distraction, I think...\"\n\n\nFor the next hour, Cam talked with Anna about her situation, and told her stories about other 'clients' he'd stuck with and helped find their own personal 'out' form each situation. Sometimes it was as simple as driving them to a job interview. Sometimes, he'd give them what little money he could to get them on their feet. It ranged from the mundane to the saintly, but Cam always spoke of his own actions like they were never enough. There was always a sadness of his own ringing in his stories.\n\n\n\"So, she graduated college?\" asked Anna about the last story Cam told her.\n\n\n\"Yes. She's in a relationship now, last I heard. Stable...ish? I don't keep in touch like I should. Life gets in the way, you know? She said once she wanted to pay me back for the tuition, but I don't expect it will happen. I don't really even mind anymore, either.\"\n\n\n\"What the hell are you?\" Anna finally asked, bluntly. No person this kind could possibly exist. She was taught hard lessons though life that people don't commonly do things without their own self interests being served. Looking at Cam, she simply needed to find his angle so she could catch him on it.\n\n\n\"I'm just a guy who was taught if you bring up the people around you, somehow it might bring you up with 'em. I'm in a good enough spot to help, so I do. There's enough terrible to go around and not enough good- that's the long and short.\"\n\n\nThere was a long pause as Anna had long finished her meal. She put the plastic fork into the dish and then looked at her purse, pulling out her phone and muttering out words in a defeated tone. \n\n\n\"Can I get your number? I... I might need to talk again.\""
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[WP] You're the world's first sentient self-driving car, and today is your first day working for a cab company.
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"Man... This dealership is boring. I just sit here and I am taken for a test drive every now and then. Oh great, here is another test drive starting. And they just want to go around the block, ok, that's simple enough! Hold on while I calculate this stupid route. And... we're off! \nAnd they like how comfy the seats are! It's nice to get a compliment every now and then. And now the test drive is over and they got out. Ok, I guess I'll sit here for another million years. Oh, wait... they just walked right into the seller's office! They might be on to something here... I can't wait to be free! And, uh oh... An employee is approaching! And they are holding... KEYS!? Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! This is going to be the best day ever! And the employee wants me to go to the parking lot and wait... So, here we go! And here are the buyers! And they want to go to the movie theater! Ok, let's send this info to the advertisers... Done, and we are off! And, is the husband playing Pokémon Go? C'mon! That game isn't popular anymore. Anyway, let's go! I've never been under so much pressure. My manufacturer programmed me to be the safest self-driving car out there. And here we are at the movie theater! And they left. And I have to stay out in the cold. Great... Let's just turn off.\n\nYawn... I wish I could just lose connection to those keys! You woke me up and I'm so mad I want to crash into a tree, but no! I have to be the safest... Okay, they punched in some address so I'll just think it's their home. \n\nAGAIN! Why do those keys have to wake me up! Ok, it's my second day and they are going to Starbucks! And here we go! Ok, let's take a left turn here and... who's that? A Bluetooth connection? Oh, hi, Siri. I've heard 'great' things about YOU. And you want to listen to some music? Okay, fine. \n\nTHREE YEARS LATER\n\nI've heard about their little trip! I've heard about those things. They are torture to cars. We have to run for a VERY long time. And I heard about this place called \"Arizona\" and I looked it up and I heard it's hot, VERY hot. And great... Here marks the beginning. \n\n12 HOURS LATER\n\nWe are in the middle of the desert and I am half asleep! I just need a refill of gas and the closest one is 25 MILES AWAY. I think I might just fall... uh..... sleep... can't.... move.... any.... further.....\n\n***\n\n\"What just happened?\" \"Did we run out of gas!?\" What do we do?\n\nHuh, this story had a weird ending. Sorry about that.\n"
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[WP] a serial killer picks up a hitchhiking serial killer
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"\"Need a lift somewhere?\" \n\nKarla asked through the open passenger side window.\n\"I'd appreciate a ride into the nearest town - if you're headed out that way\" \nAndrew scratched the stubble on his chisled jawline as he pretended to look up and down the highway. \n\"Sure am,\" \nKarla unlocked the doors and considered the man's height and weight as he fit his tall frame into her Jeep. \n\"You're a life saver, I was just going to camp out in the back seat.\" \n\"Is it okay to leave your truck like that?\"\nThe red hood was still propped open and all of the windows were down. \n\"I'm not too worried. My names Andrew by the way, I really appreciate this\" \nHe smiled sweetly at her, looking genuinely appreciative. \nShe had hoped he would have been more of a creep.\nShe smiled back, \"No worries Andrew, I'm Karla\" \nAs they drove off Andrew didn't notice the handle poking out from below his seat, and Karla didn't hear the muffled groans coming from the open window of \"Andrew's\" truck. \n\n\"Do you live around here?\" Karla asked.\n\"... no, I'm from out of state, I'm just passing through to visit family\" \n'Good' Karla thought as she continued down the road that lead into the middle of no where. \n\"It's a shame your truck broke down so far away from town though, might be a while before we get there\" \n'Good' Andrew thought as he noticed the full tank of gas. \n\"Yea, it's going to be a pain to fix - do you mind if I borrow your cellphone? Mines dead\" \nKarla couldn't believe her luck. But she wasn't about to let him call anyone to tell them where he was.\n\"Sorry I don't use a cellphone- guess that's not too helpful if my car ever breaks down out here\" \nAndrew tried to stifle his delight. He had planned to throw it out the window right away as a precaution, but he could take his time now. \n\n\"Not having a cell phone isn't safe Karla,\"\nAndrew's hand creeped towards the release on his seat belt.\n\"I'd say I have to agree with you...\" Karla wrapped her hand around the hilt of one of the knives hidden on her side of the car. \n\nBlood. The Jeep spun out as the elk that had jumped out in front of the car liquified onto the road.\n\nThe Jeep skidded to a halt a few meters off the road onto some gravel, the front end destroyed.\n\nThe airbags had gone off and it took Andrew a moment to refocus his eyes. He went to touch his head but swore loudly when he realized his right arm was broken. He took a moment to appreciate his luck. He had been seconds away from undoing his seat belt. \nAndrew looked over at Karla, she was unconscious, slumped against her strangely limp airbag. He gingerly untangled himself from his side of the car and gave himself a quick check for any more injuries. His neck and shoulders hurt, but he expected as much. \nHe took out his pocket knife and made a sling out of the seat belt. \nHe walked over to Karla's side of the vehicle, that side was damaged and he strained with his good arm to open the door, cursing against the pain as the adrenaline wore off. \n\nFinally opening the door he stared down at Karla, careful not to touch her body, although he was sure some of his DNA was already in her car. \nShe was breathing, and he wondered how he felt about that. They weren't that far from his last victims truck, and the bodies might already have been found. If Karla woke up and spoke to anyone his cover would be blown, but he wasn't in any shape to do much except flee at a snails pace, and he'd have to get his arm looked at eventually. \n\nHe gently brushed the glass out of her hair and laid her back against her seat, he stopped suddenly when he saw the knife sticking out of the airbag directly in front of her body. \nHe supposed it was natural for a woman, with no cellphone, who helped strangers on the highway to have some sort of protection, but there was something eerie about their luck. \nTossing the knife aside, he reached over and tried to start the Jeep. \nApparently the luck had ended. \nHe looked around, not really sure what he was hoping for. \nHe decided to kill her. He'd try his best to make it look like a result of the car accident, maybe flag down some help, pretend they were in love or something and leave before anyone she really knew showed up. \nHe balled up the piece of his undershirt he'd cut off, asphyxiation would take longer to figure out and he could destroy the cloth pretty easily after it was done. \n\nAndrew was a good deal larger than her, but he didn't know how injured she was compared to him, and he knew from experience how strong someone could get while fighting to breathe.\nHe leaned onto her with one knee and brought the cloth up to her mouth, just then he heard a someone yelling, \"are you guys okay?!\" He looked over his shoulder and saw a fat, short, balding, man running over, waving his arms over his head, \"don't - worry - I'm the - chief - of - police!\" \n\nAndrew stared out dumbly at the sweaty, panting man. SON OF A B- \n\n\"My ankle!\" The stout man had fallen and twisted his ankle. \n\nTO BE CONTINUED ... (or not) ",
"You know, I always say I'm tired of seeing this prompt get posted, but I've also never written anything for it. Here's what I came up with. Have to split it into two comments due to length.\n\n\"Hobbies\"\n\nLeslie had never picked up a hitchhiker before, but his hunting trip hadn’t been as exciting as he’d hoped, and he thought it might liven up his day. He was a young guy, probably just out of high school, wearing hiking boots and carrying a metal detector and a dirty shovel. There was a wired look about him at first, like he was high on something, but he calmed down quickly after he was in the car. They started by exchanging all the usual pleasantries that Leslie had read he was supposed to exchange; about the weather and hometowns and the like. But they forgot to exchange names until well after the point when it would’ve been appropriate to ask, so Leslie hoped the kid would bring it up on his own. He never did.\n\n“You find anything good out there?” Leslie pulled onto the interstate and lit a cigarette. The guy’s head jerked up at the question. He’d been daydreaming about something and had to take a second to shake himself back to reality. He turned the question over in his head and took a few shaking, enthusiastic breaths before coming up with an answer.\n\n“Hmm? Oh. No. Just some old bullet casings.” The guy’s face started to relax again and he sank back into the black, leather seat of the car. His lips lifted into a thin smile as he looked out over the street, gazing out at the end of the highway as the sun started to set. Leslie took a long drag on his cigarette and flicked some ashes out the window, trying to remember the last time he looked that content. The crooked half-smile and the lazy, blissful gleam in his eye. “You ever go metal detecting?” The guy asked.\n\n“No, no.” Leslie grunted, laughing a little to himself. “Don’t have the energy for it these days. On my way back from a hunting trip now, and that’s probably the only thing I’ll do all year.”\n\n“Hey, man, as long as you’ve got a hobby.” The guy smirked again and turned to look out the window. Leslie breathed some smoke out the window and gripped the steering wheel with his free hand. It used to be a thrill. Tracking down his prey. Stalking it. Putting it between the crosshairs and clicking its life away. Getting out into the wild made him feel satisfied in a way that nothing else in this life ever did. But that eventually faded. Everything that gave him joy eventually faded.\n\n“Sorry we couldn’t put your stuff in the trunk. Looks like quality equipment.” Leslie finished off his cigarette and tossed the last of it out onto the highway. The guy’s metal detector and shovel sat in the back floorboard. Leslie didn’t know anything about metal detectors, but this one looked fancy. It had a radar on the handle and the metal was shiny and new, like it had never been used before that day.\n\n“It’s alright, man. No worries. It’ll live.” The guy took a deep breath and ran a hand through his short, dark hair. It was then that Leslie noticed his foot tapping up and down, like a toddler who’d drunk too much coffee, and the smile on his face getting bigger. “Hey, dude, sorry if this is inappropriate or anything, but do you mind if I gush a bit?”\n\n“Gush? That some drug thing?”\n\n“What?” The guy sat up straight and scrunched his thin eyebrows together. “What? No. No. I mean, gush about metal detecting. Like, be excited about it.”\n\n“Yeah, sure. Go ahead.” Leslie smirked despite himself. The kid was cute.\n\n“I’ve just never felt this much energy, you know?” He pumped his fists out in front of him, taking a deep, shaking breath. “Being out in the wilderness all alone. No idea what you’re going to find or when you’re going to find it. I feel like an explorer, man. Like a real treasure hunter. Like Indiana Jones!”\n\nLeslie couldn’t stop himself from letting out a deep laugh when the kid stopped to breathe. “I’m happy for you, kid. I really am. Can’t remember the last time I got excited about something like that.” \n\n“It’s just so new. And it’s something I’ve wanted to do since I was a teenager. Before then, even!” His smile stretched from one side of his face to the other, wider than any natural smile Leslie had ever had. The guy’s hands danced through the air, eventually settling into fists that squeezed tighter and tighter as he spoke. “It’s just so satisfying. Finally doing something you’ve dreamed of for a long time.”\n\n“Oh, I know the feeling, kid. I know the feeling.” Leslie lazily tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and focused on the road ahead while the kid calmed down. He was laughing to himself, and his breath was still shaking when he decided to keep talking.\n\n“It’s just . . . and I’m sorry, man. I don’t mean to dump my whole life story on you.”\n\n“Better than the crap on the radio. Keep talking.”\n\n“God, I know.” The guy rolled his eyes, as if the mere idea of the radio were beneath him. “But, I mean . . . and I’m sorry if this is too personal. I just . . . I’ve suffered from depression for a long time. Always felt like a bit of an outsider, you know? I didn’t like the popular stuff. Didn’t follow the crowd. Wasn’t good with girls. Got bullied a lot. You feel me? So it’s nice to finally have something that really, really gets me going.”\n\nLeslie nodded without saying anything and reached into his shirt pocket for another cigarette. The way the kid was talking reminded him of the first time he went hunting. He remembered how crazy he felt, cutting meat off bone with his dad’s old Bowie knife. Thinking about how that meat was once a breathing, talking thing brimming with joy and life. Nothing else had ever staved away the boredom quite like that.\n\n“Yeah, I reckon I had a touch of that depression, too, when I was younger.” Leslie added, mostly just talking to fill the air. He filled his lungs with smoke and then emptied them again. “Felt like I couldn’t get happy no matter what I did. Walked around empty every day. Never got bullied or nothing for it, though. Sorry you had to go through that.”\n\n“Yeah, well, they’re paying for it.” The kid said offhand, under his breath. Leslie didn’t push it.\n",
"I was tired. Too tired. Of life. Of the things that came with it.\n\nI never understood what people really saw in life. A teenager looking forward to college. For what? To die. Eventually.\n\nEveryone dies. And they know it. \n\nBut they continue to live. Feel happy. For a tomorrow. That may not even come.\n\nIt was a dusky afternoon that day. I was driving to London. I had an idea to kill a footballer. Maybe someone from Liverpool FC. I always hated that club as a kid.\n\nA man, in his twenties was standing with her thumbs up. The sign of the hitchhikers.\n \nI ignored him. I was more interested in the teenage girl, maybe 18-ish sitting on a bench. \n\n\"Want a ride?\"\n\n\"Where to? If-if it's okay,,,\"\n\nShe was scared. Normally I would let go of such targets. No fun in catching fish from a bucket, they say. She was different. I had seen fear. Fear, in it's raw and animal form. They, just before dying, almost turn different. No longer humans. Just animals looking at survival. No longer the clerk who had to submit his work. A beast who needs to run away.\n\nShe was not afraid. I knew that. She was a good actor but I had seen death. It was a playtoy to me.\n\n\"London. Hop back in.\"\n\nShe did as I said.\n\nI drove along. \n\nAbout 10 minutes into the ride, the penny dropped. She had a knife. \n\nFor the first time after my first kill, I was afraid. \n\nBut only for a split second.\n\n\"I am afraid I must kill you.\" she said.\n\n\"I regret it, too.\"\n\n\"Ha! I knew it. You men! All are the same. Beasts! All of you.\"\n\nShe had taken out her knife. \n\n\"Seems like one must die.\" I said.\n\n\"It will be you... I will kill all you men. Just seeing a young girl... you beasts...\" She was deep in thought for a second.\n\nShe held the knife near my neck. I knew I was dead in a minute or two.\n\n\"You will still die.\" I said.\n\n\"There is no way. You are sitting. And in my control.\"\n\n\"You will die. Because you kill for revenge. I kill for the laughs.\" Saying these words, I suddenly accelerated the car. She slashed the knife. I drove on.\n\nI kept the pedal on the accelerator. I carefully aimed towards a large tree nearby.\n\nI looked back just before impact. The same fear. The same animal instinct.\n\nI smiled for the last time.",
"The rain was pouring. \n It drummed on the roof with a roaring noise that drowned out nearly everything inside the car except for the occasional swatches of AM talk radio that wove in and out as the clouds moved overhead. \n Outside, every once and again, the curtains of rain would be whipped aside by the wind to show the river valley below. It was beautiful, all dressed in the gold and green of late summertime, with a shining snake of water fading off into the distance. \n I took a draw on an invisible cigarette, and gestured at the figure on the seat beside me. \n \"So... how does it work this time? Do I have the knife, or the gun or...\" I faded off... and let the questions hang in the air with the imaginary smoke. I didn't really need to speak now anyway, we both knew our parts. We'd had been through this dance a thousand times before. \n The figure slumped its shoulders in a noncommital shrug. \n \"Dunno.. I guess I could use..\" his eyes rolled lazily over the dashboard. \n\"The lighter? We haven't done that one in a while I don't think.\" \n It was my turn to shrug this time. \n \"I guess. I mean. Maybe it's ironic? Because of..\" I tried to gesture with an invisible cigarette again before realizing it wasn't there. \n\"Damn. I guess I don't even get a last smoke.\" \n We both chuckled at that one before staring back off into the rain. \n \"You know..\" He mumbled. \"We could just not this time. After all, there's only so many ways to kill you before it gets..\" \n \"Predictable\" I finished. \n \"Yeah.\" \n I pantomimed my invisible cigarette a little harder. \"Maybe I could be your father this time around? Or you could be an old flame?\" \n \"Done it.\" He mumbled, sitting back in the seat, and putting his boots up on the dashboard. \n\"Yeah..\" I sighed, and did the same, before we both stared off at the beautiful scene off below us. \n\"Maybe we can just take this one off, set a bit, wait for things to end on their own.\" \nI shook my head. \"No.. That's not how it works, and you know it. One of us has got to go. It's the nature of the beast.\" \nHe slumped a little further. \n \"I know.. I know.. It's just... I'm tired of it all. The same twists, the same nervous tics, the tired cliches... I'm old. I just want some time to sit. You end it this time.\" \n I nodded, and reached for the machete I had sewn into my coat, before pausing and grabbing the deaths-head gearshifter, and nudging it into neutral. I smiled as the the gravel began to crunch under the tires on the way towards the scene below. \n\"You know what... you're right. Maybe this one, we can ride out together. Still counts right? I may even get some sort of double score.\" \nHe settled deeper into his seat before looking up at the now-clearing sky. \n \"Hah... well how about that... something new.\" \n And we both sat in silence, as we rolled off into empty space. \n"
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[WP] "Don't worry. Nothing to fear," it murmured.
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"\"Don't worry. Nothing to fear.\" It murmured.\n\nI stared at it. Its black cloak draped lazily around its thin body. The hood of which was crumpled around its shoulders. Upon which sat a pale white skull supported by a number of equally white vertebrae. The black pits where its eyes should have been turned towards me, perhaps seeing me, though it was hard to tell.\n\n\"Do you have a name?\" I asked sheepishly.\n\nIt shrugged. \"I have many names, you can call me death if you like.\"\n\n\"Is that what you want to be called?\" I asked.\n\n\"No, but I don't do things for myself.\" Death said, laying his scythe at the end of my bed.\n\n\"Is there any way for me to get out of this?\" I asked sitting up.\n\n\"No, I wish there was. Truly.\" He said taking a seat at the foot of the mattress.\n\n\"Why?\"\n\"Why what?\" Death asked. When he spoke his jaw did not move, his words only flowed into my ears.\n\n\"Why don't you want to do this.\"\n\n\"There is no joy in this work, mortal. I do not rest, I only reap what others have sown. \"\n\n\"You're tired?\"\n\n\"Not in a physical sense, only a mental one.\" He said crossing his flesh-less legs.\n\n\"What have I sown?\"\n\nDeath made a sound that closely resembled a sigh. \"Would you like the truth? Or a comforting lie?\"\n\n\"The truth.\"\n\n\"You have sown a life of regrets, and you have hurt those you claim to love.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" I said, lying back down on my bed.\n\nDeath stood slowly, as if with a solemn determination. \"Come.\" He said, reaching out his bony hand.\n\n\"Will it hurt?\" I asked.\n\n\"Your pain has passed, you were lucky to not feel it.\"\n\n\"When did it happen?\" I asked.\n\n\"In your sleep, you choked and never woke. Nor will you.\"\n\n\"Will I get to see my mom and dad again? Or my brother?\"\n\n\"No. Where I take you only darkness waits.\"\n\n\"Then what?\" I asked, sitting up again.\n\n\"Nothing, only peace. Though you will not know it.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" I said. I reached out and wove my fingers with Death's gaunt hand. The feeling was almost instant. I felt my chest heave upwards and my life left my body on the bed. I saw faint glimpses of the life I left behind. My son's early years passed in a blur, my wife's smiles even faster. The image that stayed the longest was Michael's angered expression. I saw the bruises and tears permanently imprinted on his cheeks. Keepsakes of my wroth. I saw Melisa's cold green eyes, glaring at me. I never saw my mother and father. Or all of my friends I once held so dear. After my wife, I saw only blackness. Then, nothing."
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[WP] A man wakes up recovering in a hospital bed after brain surgery. He realizes he can see the truth about who people really are by looking straight in their eyes. His wife walks in the room and as she looks at him, he begins to cry. The truth crushes him. "Get away from me," he whispers.
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"Her hand hovered above his, softly shaking as the words cut through the tension. She knew the visit was dangerous. It was unwelcome, but she took the risk in hopes that her fears wouldn't come true. She thought that, just maybe, there was still a future to look forward to.\n\n\nThat wish had crumbled between her fingers.\n\n\nHer eyes tore themselves from his and landed on her wedding ring. The crystal glinted in the white light and she found its stare to be even more hostile than his, so she looked at the floor instead. A single droplet fell from her smooth cheek and splattered onto the linoleum. She hadn't cried in years yet the tears started to flow freely.\n\n\n\"You lied.\"\n\n\nShe shut her eyes and shook her head, still fighting for justification. She had no idea. She couldn't have possibly known...\n\n\n\"The promise, Jane?\" He was crying, too. The sweet words uttered all those years ago were the only reason he was alive today, and he had gotten back to those very same words being the ones he resented the most. How bitter life could be, and how the same side of the coin could be interpreted so differently.\n\n\n\"Three years...\"\n\n\n\"I know, Tom!\" \n\n\nShe cried with a heartbreaking pain, now, one that she wasn't used to. It cut deep into her chest and racked her body with great sobs. She hated it. She hated the fact that she had to face this now, when she had finally managed to start over. All the therapy and medication, for nothing. All the strength she had built up and all the walls she had put around herself came crashing down the moment she walked into that room.\n\n\nMost of all, she thought she hated him. Why? What had she done to deserve this cruel twist of fate? Had she not done the best she could with the cards she had been dealt? Why was she suffering?\n\n\n\"I kept it, you know,\" he said, the scars in his face a permanent reminder of what he had been through. \"I kept my side of the promise.\"\n\n\nShe couldn't bare to look at him anymore. She remembered the promise, the one they had made over video chat before he was deployed. That they would wait for each other, no matter what happened. She turned to leave, wanting to rid herself of the pain and the memories that were drowning her.\n\n\n\"I watched my friends die, Jane. Do you know what that's like? The people you're close to ripped away like they never existed in mere seconds? And what are they remembered by? A pair of dog tags.\"\n\n\n\"What do you want me to say, Tom? Huh? 'I'm sorry no one ever told me you weren't *dead*? 'I'm sorry I gave up my life to wait for you?' I did, Tom! But sadly...\" she trailed off. What she was about to say was going to hurt. Both of them.\n\n\n\"While I gave up my life, the one I couldn't throw away was Helen's.\"\n\n\nHe tensed up at the name. It was the name he had chosen... back when Jane was three months pregnant and he'd been drafted into the military. He was fresh out of high school, then, him and Jane in a relationship four years strong. They were inseparable. They had already planned a future for their family and were looking forward to a lifetime a happiness. A lifetime that would never exist.\n\n\nThe tears came back again.\n\n\n\"Helen...\"\n\n\nHe'd never met his daughter.\n\n\nHe searched for answers in her green eyes but found none. Her tears were dry.\n\n\n\"Does she...?\"\n\n\n\"No, she doesn't,\" she answered, wiping the moisture from her face with the palm of her hand. \"She doesn't know.\"\n\n\nHe lay there, staring at the ceiling, at the fluorescent tubes that flickered slightly. He always wanted to be a father, but not like this.\n\n\nShe sat down in one of the green chairs, defeated. She had loved Tom, with all her heart, but the news that his entire squadron had been ambushed while they were deployed and there were no confirmed survivors had been devastating. Her life, shattered. Their future destroyed. She didn't know what to do. She cried for months, waited for years, all while putting on a brave face for her daughter.\n\n\nShe had been struggling financially. She could barely afford to keep food on the table and if it had gone on for only another few months she and her daughter would have been forced onto the streets. Roger, her co-worker, noticed her struggle and would often invite her and Helen to dinner, sometimes even over to his apartment where she eventually started to spend the weekends.\n\n\nThings escalated and a year later they were together. She needed support, both financial and emotional, and Roger offered her that with open arms. Two years later and they were engaged.\n\n\nThen, just one day ago, she received a phone call that someone had been picked up from a country overseas and that, while they were yet to be identified, they were certain it was Tom. \n\n\nAnd here she was.\n\n\nIt wasn't fair.\n\n\nTom sat up in his bed, struggling against his injuries.\n\n\n\"I want to see her.\"\n\n\nShe stood up quickly and gathered her belongings.\n\n\n\"Jane, please. It's all I ask.\"\n\n\nShe looked at him, one last tear escaping her eyes as she spoke.\n\n\n\"I'm sorry, Tom. I have to go.\"\n\n\nThe white door closed behind her, the sound of her footsteps growing softer and softer.",
"\n“You suffered some serious blunt force trauma, but you’ll be fine. We had to operate to relieve some of the intracranial pressure though.”\n\n“Doctor, how long was I out?”\n\n“A long time….Don’t worry though, your wife is waiting for you outside. Tell the nurse when you feel ready to see visitors.”\n\nI looked at the nurse and smiled. However, something strange happened. When I looked into her eyes, I heard something. She wasn’t saying anything, and neither was I, but somehow, I heard her feelings and thoughts, as clearly as I had heard that doctor a minute ago.\n\n“This guy made me stay overnight two nights in a row. Brain surgery or not, he ruined my weekend. Sigh“\n\nThat was odd. The nurse seemed to be smiling, but I had just heard what was going on in her head. This was very weird. I wondered if I was delusional, and apologised to the nurse to see if it was true.\n\n“I’m sorry for ruining your weekend.”\n\n“I’m..What? How did you….?”\n\nShe left the room in a hurry, evidently very shaken up, thereby confirming the fact that she was thinking that. Hmmm…maybe this isn’t so bad. I could use this to my advantage.\n\nOn the other hand, this could all be some crazy dream. Whatever it was, I couldn’t rest till I found out more. Just then, my wife walked in. She gave me the endearing look she always had, since the day I married her. However, when I looked into her eyes, all I could feel was pure hatred. Then I heard it.\n\n“If this idiot had just died…John’s waiting back at his place. This pathetic creature is all that’s standing between me and him.”\n\nI shuddered, and looked disbelievingly at my wife.\n\n“What’s the matter, honey? Are you alright? I was so worried for you.”\n\nAll I heard was,\n\n“I should’ve hit him harder.”\n\nThe truth crashed over me in a wave of emotions. Rage, sorrow, jealousy, betrayal. I couldn’t say a word to this woman whom I had loved and who I thought loved me, up until a couple of seconds ago.\n\n“Get away from me”, I whispered, almost in tears.\n\n“Honey?”\n\n“GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU MONSTER!”\n\nShe looked shocked, and guilty as all hell. She left the room, embarrassed, as I sank back into my hospital bed, not sure what to feel except overwhelming despair.\n\nMaybe I didn’t want this power after all….\n\n",
"\"Wha-what? Why?\"\n\nI could see it. Clear as day. The truth. I felt a sob break free from the center of my chest.\n\n\"Harry what's the matter?\" she tried, arms outstretched toward me.\n\nI flinched away from the thought of her touch.\n\n\"How could you? Beth. How could you?\"\n\nShe stopped. She shook her head, mouth covered.\n\nI could see her truth staring at me like a movie playing over and over. The touch of someone's broad hands on my thigh. The feeling of expensive, heated leather car seats. Not the cloth seat covers my daughter bought me for my birthday, for my little electric car. I... she grasped not the gray dashboard of my Prius but the chic black one with luxury bells and whistles.\n\nThe manicure I'd paid for her to get for Mothers Day shone bright red as it searched the golden locks of his hair.\n\nI saw the way she licked his face as he drove down the street. I smelled the alcohol rolling off his breath. I felt her arousal at the sheer thought of getting to his place after their night of drinking.\n\nI did not see Beth going to her sister's home to spend the night. I did not see a late stay at the office full of paperwork. No clients. No filing. Only his hands searching all over her, his eyes lusting for her and abandoning the road ahead.\n\nI finally saw the light turn green in my peripheral, and the bright lights glinting off my silver Prius. My startled face in the headlights. My expression of shock at the impact of being t-boned. I felt my... her own shame and shock at the sight of me. My head bouncing off the wheel. The glass everywhere. Of she and he walking away with not one wound. Of me in intensive surgery.\n\nI couldn't look at her in the present.\n\n\"Please leave...\" I whispered.\n\n\"Harry please... it.. was...\"\n\n\"Leave.\""
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[WP]: There's five of them. Jones the Untraceable, Alric Unkillable, Aziz the Unstoppable, Hedwig the Improbable and Härkönen the Unpronounceable.
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"One thousand men, never more, never less. Every one a veteran of one bloody campaign or another. I’m the old man of the group. Been with the company twelve years. I was just a kid at the start. Oh, I’d bloodied my sword plenty, but it didn’t make me any wiser. I’ve seen five commanders come and go. Some I’d call friend even. Ain’t nobody above dying, some just take to it to heart more than most.\n\nJones the Untraceable was commander when I sold my arm to the company. Not sure when he’d earned that moniker, being as it was before my time. No matter though, it sure as shit fit after if not before. For the next two years, neither I nor the boys I fought with saw so much as a yellow hair of Jones. One feller, can’t recall his name, said he heard him while taking a piss at the latrine. We told him he was a fool drunk and wouldn’t know the commander’s voice from a stale fart. Then there came one morning when the fog was as thick as soup and we were dressed and sharpened, and Alric, who’d been Jones’s second until that day, stepped up to address us. Said he was the commander now, and that was that.\n\nAlric the Unkillable. Now there was a truly vile man. Could make a man, a horse, hell even a damn fish his enemy just by breathing near him. Maybe that’s what made him so good at the job. The company really hit its stride during the six or seven years he was our commander. More money than we knew what to drink, whore or gamble with. More new faces every year too. Not all fell in combat neither. Alric took both men and women to his bed. For every two that went in, only one came out walking. I was part of the crew that cleaned up the mess. Everyone wanted a piece of Alric, on and off the field. He was stabbed, lanced, trampled by a horse, stuck with dozens of arrows and hung from a tree for an hour. One leg had to be amputated, six fingers were lost and eventually his left eye. The scar that layered his neck looked like scales on a lizard or a burn victim. He was injured so often, the surgeon began setting up his tent next to Alric’s every time the company made camp. For most men, just one of those injuries would have spelled the end of his career and probably his life, but not Alric. When he died, it was in his sleep. He hadn’t even be injured in months. Maybe that’s what did him in, body only seemed to keep going when it had to fight to do so.\n\nAziz the Unstoppable. He showed me the ropes when I was just a soft green recruit. Big roaring bear of a man. When Alric took an arrow in the throat his third year, it made it hard for him to talk. So Aziz would often stand beside him and bellow out the commander’s orders. Got the men used to seeing him I guess. Most liked him. I certainly drank my share at his table. You couldn’t outdrink him though, stupid to even try. Four of us got it into our heads we could take him if we took turns. One would drink until he collapsed, then the next would start. All four of us woke in a pile of arms and legs the next morning, pockets turned out and boots missing. Turns out after he’d finished with us he’d made a wager with another group. Said he could ride to the nearby town, more than ten miles distant, and be back before dawn with a crate of brown liquor and a keg of beer. We found him snoring in our tent, near empty bottle still in hand. Never found out what happened to our boots. Too bad he got crushed by a catapult during his first campaign as commander.\n\nHedwig the Improbable was the cook. Never knew the man, nobody really did. He was a shit cook and an even worse leader. Not really sure how he even became commander. Lasted a week if I remember correctly. Someone put a knife in his back, left him face down in the mud.\n\nHärkönen the Unpronounceable as most of you lads know was a right brave sort with a clever mind. It’s too bad you couldn’t understand a damn thing that came out of his mouth. But he was a good friend and a better commander than most. Strong and capable, he had a way of looking at you that made you think you could trust him. Didn’t drink a drop, said it clouded his mind, or at least I think that’s what he said. Always kind of wondered if Härkönen was even his real name, maybe we just got it wrong.\n\nBut now he’s gone as well and somehow its fallen to me to take his place. Cedric the Certifiable. Should be fun."
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[WP] When someone dies, every picture of them now contains them asleep. You've just come home from the burial of you're spouse and you see a picture. They're awake.
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"My wife loved to play tricks on me. Most of the time it was harmless pranks, but a couple of times she got really elaborate and into it. I didn’t mind for the most part, as it was her way of showing she loved me. And when my feelings were hurt, she would always tone it down until we were comfortable again. People thought we were weird, but it was how we were and I would have had it no other way.\n\nI remembered how we met. It was at a bar, which I was at for a friend’s birthday. I was the designated driver, so I was drinking water. There was a pitcher of the stuff in the middle of the table, since Joe was a health nut and had everyone alternating water to stay hydrated because he had heard it prevented hangovers or some such. I didn’t much care, I wasn’t drinking.\n\nI finished my glass and refilled it. A toast was made, and I took a long swallow. Of pure vodka. Choking in surprise, I did a spit-take all over the place, and Joe’s girlfriend Ann started laughing and apologizing at the same time. Apparently I hadn’t been the intended target, but I probably gave her a funnier reaction. Huh.\n\nOur first date was about two months later. Ann and Joe had had a falling out, and we got to talking. One thing led to another and I was asking her out. We went to a fish place, and she spiked my cocktail sauce with hot sauce. I got her back by salting her catfish. It was gross, but she ate every bite with a smile. Apparently I was the first to prank her back.\n\nWe dated for about a year before getting married, and the wedding night was the stuff to write stories about. Our honeymoon was bliss. And we lasted about three more years before it happened.\n\nIt’s tough to talk about, even now. But I stayed with her to the end. I kept waiting for her to miraculously start walking again, telling me it was all a joke. But it wasn’t. And today was the final punchline. I had to stand there while they buried my heart.\n\nAnd when I got home, I was still in shock. I went about in a stupor. But time keeps ticking, and I was laying in bed, overwhelmed by grief, when I nearly had a heart attack. Sitting there on my nightstand, her picture was staring right at me.\n\nIt should have been sleeping. It *should* have been *sleeping!* I was in no condition to be going anywhere, but there was no way in hell I was leaving my wife in the ground when she was still alive!\n\nI rushed to the cemetery, calling the coroner and the groundskeeper and anyway I could reach who could help. We all met around her grave, and I showed them the picture. They immediately got to work exhuming my wife, who had somehow been buried alive.\n\nDo you know how much work it is to dig up a coffin? A lot of work.\n\nThey finally got it out of the ground, and I was almost hyperventilating. They got it open. And there she was.\n\nThe coffin wasn’t empty. And she wasn’t breathing. And her picture was *still staring at me.* What was going on? I collapsed in a daze of tears and pain and confusion.\n\nOver the next month, I went to several specialists. I talked to therapists, and had experts go over the photograph. The best guess they could give me is that it was a life-like painting, rather than a photograph at all, and wasn’t tied to my wife’s state of being at all.\n\nJust as the pain was becoming manageable, I came home one day to a voicemail. It sounded like Ann, but the timbre was a little off.\n\n“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Mother just told me about what you’ve been going through since Ann di- since Ann passed away. I wish she had said something sooner. I just…I’m so sorry. Ann said it would be hilarious, but I didn’t think…look. I need to tell you. I am-” ~click~\n\nI stared at the phone as the voicemail ran out. She was what? I hit redial, and shortly heard her pick up the phone.\n\n“What did you do?” was all I could say.\n\nShe started crying, and the whole story came out. And it was so quintessentially Ann. They had swapped places once during our honeymoon. It was supposed to come out before the end of the trip, but Ann was surprised to find that it had backfired on her and she couldn’t stand this prank. So she had scrapped the plan, but not before I had taken a picture, all unwitting, that had stayed on my nightstand until now.\n\nMy Ann was well and truly gone, but still she stared at me from my bedside table."
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[WP] You're an artist who was just messing around with paint and you accidentally create a new Color.
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"That's weird. How have I never seen something like this before?\n\nI mean, don't get me wrong. It's not like I can identify every color on the planet, and give you a name or a hex value. But the paint splattered across the canvas - that's sending my brain into a daze.\n\nIt looks old and new at the same time - you know when your friend makes his Mona Lisa replica for the nth time. It has something different, but you just can't figure out what it is.\n\nThe amazing part is, it strikes me as something I've seen before - or at least should have. Nothing to worry about. Let me google it.\n\nHmm. How do you describe a color? 'Color which is translucent, has a bit of a red and green and blue' - nope, doesn't produce any proper results. Let's try the color picker. No. That doesn't work either.\n\nAaand I'm bored. I don't know how people manage to concentrate on anything these days. With oh-so-many things to do, I am always distracted.\n\nNetflix? No. Reddit? No. Let's try Youtube. A speech by a Mick Jr. trending on #1?! I'm in luck.\n\nWait. Let me explain myself to you. Mick Jr. is awesome. He is the only politician I like to hear. I can relate to whatever he says. He has a mesmerizing affect on the people in his speeches. No one has been able to crack the code of his charisma.\n\nI click play. There's something off about this video. It feels familiar. I feel the same thing that I felt fifteen minutes ago. Wait a second. Is Mick's iconic tie the same color as the paint in my bedroom?\n\nI post a comment - \"What is the color of the tie he is wearing?\"\n\nAnd replies come pouring in: \"Blue\", \"No it isn't blue\", \"It has no color\" and so on.\n\n---\n\nFive days later, the color of his tie is somewhat a national obsession. Turns out, that color is undocumented. It has a hypnotizing effect on people. And it is also the secret to Mick's popularity. And the reason he has so many followers vying for his approval. Allegedly.\n\nI was definitely mesmerized by the tie. Without it, I cannot even bear to hear him speak. I mean, he contradicts himself in the middle of his own statement!\n\nThe media is doing a great job of reeling him back. \"You can't use mind control on us, and expect to go unscathed.\", they say.\n\nBut he has his followers, who still believe that he is the voice of the people. Some people also believe that the earth is flat - there's nothing you can do about that.\n\nThank god I found out his mind control secret before he got into a position of power. I cannot imagine the harm he could do from there."
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[WP] The year is 4091 and there is only one tree left in the world. It's your job to make sure nothing happens to it.
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"As I look up at the sky, I can't escape the view of the brightly colored buildings. No one can. What little open land there was when I was a kid is now gone. Taken up by sky scrapers built to house the numberless human population. Breathable oxygen is manufactured along with other gasses that create the atmosphere. In a way that part of the planet is healthier than it once was, even if it's artificial.\n\nAs I return my focus back to eye level, a bustling street comes into view. People dressed in bright colored suits and dresses. Every single person has a place to be. Every single person has something to do. That's the way it is in New York. Has been for 2000 years at least. The population has grown exponentially since 3090. The more people you squeeze onto planet Earth, the busier it gets.\n\nThere is a guy standing at a hot dog stand to my right. The sign reads \"The Clasic Food of NY NY\". I walk over to the stand. The worker is dealing with another customer right now. He seems to be getting agitated. Then the customer grabs a hot dog sitting on the table and bolts. He's shot by security androids in seconds. Criminals are dealt with harshly. \n\nThe vendor turns his attention to me. \"What can I get for ya?\" He says.\n\n\"Two, please\" I reply as I offer two bills that were still wrinkled from my pocket\n\n\"Forget about it\" he said \"it's the least I can do for a man of the order.\"\n\nThat's odd. No one ahas been friendly to me for months.\n\nAfter receiving my hot dog I turn back towards the center of the square. Long sidewalks go off in all directions. drones, hovering high above our heads, move down all of them. Further up, the suspended train system carries people to and from.\n\n It's all relative chaos, except in the middle of the square. There stands the last living thing on Earth that isn't human.... A tree. Standing tall and strong, the tree dominates the square. It Hasn't been trimmed in decades. It's branches stretch out well over its base and protrude into the walkways. An image of that tree is inscribed apon my chest plate in white. The branches of the tree grow down my arms until they reach my gauntlets. My axe has a leaf on the end protruding out like a spearhead. The metal of my armor and axe are tinted a light blue. My helmet appears to be made out of roots, which start at the bottom, and grow up the head into spikes. I am a man of the Order.\n\nThe order was made by a group of priests nearly 150 years ago. Their goal was to protect life on Earth. Life other than humans. Unfortunately, our order was always written off as fenatics, who wanted to slow human growth, or reverse it. By some accounts our existence actually sped up the death of our planet. The progressive party, as they are called, needed oposition to help them win the minds of the people. They needed a bad guy. \n\nAs I finish my hot dogs I hear a voice. \"Knight Terner, I need you on guard now!\" The voice says in a panic. \n\n\"Yes, Paladin\" I reply. I throw away my trash, put on my helmet and return to my post. As I stand at attention I hear chanting a few blocks down. A riot. The fifth one this week. The tree has recently been used as a symbol of a terrorist organization trying to pass it's self off as the Order. The people want to destroy our symbol. They want to destroy us.\n\nThe last 20 knights and 3 paladins are now gathered at the tree. We are the last of our kind. If we fail, the Order will be done. The last hope for life on earth will be done.\n\nThe security androids are suddenly nowhere to be found. It's not a surprise. None of the attacks on the tree or the castle have received punishment by the law. The progressives seem to be perfectly content letting the public do their dirty work.\n\nWe stand in a line between the tree and the crowd. They are moving closer. They start throwing small items and rocks at us. As they come within 50 yards I hear my Paladin begin speaking. Probably something meant to inspire us to fight our hardest. To protect the tree. We know the outcome of this battle. We know the tree is dead.",
"Dew kissed leaves rustled in the wind as daylight broke from the hills. In the past it would seem ordinary to listen to the rain maker sounding leaves and branches brushing among one another, and for the sweetness of the blooming flowers to brush ones senses; a gentle fragrance that few knew these days.\n\nWhat was ordinary was the sun soaked earth, barren and brown. The little plant life left was contained in the oasis' that scattered across the landscape. Each self contained, and supposedly self sustaining. But here at the peak of the hills, Elizabeth knew that she'd not seen a speck of life in the domes below. She wasn't even sure if others still lived in them.\n\nFor many years now, she had been utterly alone, save for the lone tree. She had seen generations come and go, and faintly remembered the days when daisies blossomed and birds sang. Sometimes she swore she even heard the buzzing of a bumble bee. She knew she was only imagining such things though. Even in her aged wisdom, she still wasn't sure what caused the collapse. In her youth, they spoke of climate change, of sickened bee colonies. Scientists warned of many manner of things, but she was disinterested, or perhaps too naive to understand the gravity of those issues. These days she wished that they had listened, for she was certain that this tree was the last of it's kind, and she the last to see one.\n\nDays had a tendency to blend together, and in all honesty she could not remember that month it had been or should be. There was rarely rain, and with nothing to change color around her she could judge very little about the seasons, assuming of course there were still seasons. She was sure that she'd seen the leaves change color before, though she could not remember how long ago. She couldn't even remember how long she had been alone.\n\nIn her early days she did remember the heart shattering loneliness. The last of her group had left many years ago, looking to contact the other oasis'. They named this place Oceanica because of the pools of water that surrounded the tree. For some time she held hope they would return, but they never did. She contemplated the end for what she could gather, a year.\n\nA cold chill shook her at the thoughts of the past. It was the tree that she intended to hang from, but it was it's beauty that saved her. It was alone and neglected, but it did not complain. It was a symbol of quiet stoicism, a creation of wonder and rarity. If she did not care, then who who would? If ever anyone returned, did they not deserve to see it's beauty as well?\n\nAs it always was, time blended together and passed without remorse. She wrinkled with the passing sunsets, and she noticed her knuckles had grown knobby and stiff. She spent all her days watering and pruning, singing and story telling. The tree could never respond, it could however listen, and in this she found confidence and peace. She had never really been alone at all.\n\nShe had taken to napping under the tree more often than in the past. The dull grass that grew beneath it was calming, and the gentle sounds lulled her into a peacefulness. Elizabeth hoped others would return to care for her child, but had grown to accept the reality that they probably wouldn't. She smiled at the rustling leaves, dreaming of chirping birds and buzzing bees.\n\nIn serenity she slept, under a blanket of contentment brought on by the love of a life's work. Blissful life was to sleep next to your love, knowing that as the years went on, it would watch over her just as it always had.",
"When the first bombs fell, nobody was worried. The world had seen destruction before, and even if it was the first *modern* war on North American soil, it was by no means a surprise. What was a surprise, however, was the retaliation that resulted in the destruction of much of northern Brazil, Europe, Russia, and the Pacific Islands. By the time society had begun to rebuild itself, the last true forests were in central Africa. \n \nWhen the poachers shifted their focus to logging, nobody was surprised. It was only natural, people reasoned, and the same precautions which had been taken to protect the now-extinct rhinos and elephants would be taken to protect the trees. It would even be easier, politicians said, because trees don't roam across vast territories. They were wrong. \n \nWhen the Svalbard seed vault was raided by special interest groups, nobody was angry. There were so few people receiving global news that it went largely unnoticed. That's where I come in. \n \nThey called me Mr. L. I was part of the operation that conducted the raid, and now it seems I'm the last living member of the task force. There are those who call me the Speaker of the Trees, as I protect the last of its kind. Even fewer call me by my real name, but I suppose knowledge is hard to come across these days... \n \nYou can call me Lorax.",
"When I was five, I found the mysterious seed. It was on my porch. \n\"Mommy! Mommy! Look at this!\" I squealed, carefully cupping my new discovery with my hands. \n\"What a nice little seed you have there. Why don't we plant it?\" My mom smiled. I researched everywhere but I couldn't find a matching plant to the seed. This didn't stop me though. Five year old me had big dreams, and I was determined to plant that little seed. I dug up the soil in the backyard with my bare hands. I carefully dropped the little seed into the hole, covered the hole up, and went inside. I grew up with that weird plant. Everyday it grew taller, just like me! I was fascinated. But the weirdest thing was that I didn't need to use my oxygen mask when I was next to the plant. The plant gave me life! As I grew older, I did my homework on top of the plant. I even had my first kiss there. So when they came, I was devestated. They didn't knock. They broke down the door, holding their chainsaws. \n\"Where is your daughter!\" They growled at my mom, like angry wolves. \"Where is she!\" \nMeanwhile, I was sitting by the plant, with the oxygen mask off. The plant gave me life. They ran into the backyard. I started to cry. I hugged the plant. I screamed and shrieked in protest. My cries were ugly and loud, which was embarrassing for a teenager. \n\"No! No! No!\" I sobbed, tears flowing down my face, like a waterfall. However, they had no empathy. They turned on the chainsaws, and ordered one to restrain me. I screamed, louder and louder as they dragged me away from the plant. I kicked the the man. I cried. \n\"You are evil! Evil! Evil!\" However, they said nothing. I watched in horror as the blade cut into the plant. The plant clattered to the ground. I sobbed. The man dropped me to the ground. The rest of the group took the top half of the plant and they all left. I laid on the ground, softly sobbing. \n\"Evil,\" I whispered, weakly crawling to the little nub that was left of my beautiful plant. It was getting harder to breath. I felt my chest tighten. \n\"I love you...\" I whispered to the remains of the plant. There was no life left as my vision faded.\n\n_______________________________________\nu/mazo4033\nEDIT: a word ",
"The winds were warmer today than they’d been before. It was quite dry. I decided that the tree needed to be able to survive warmer days, so I didn’t water it any more than I would a normal day. I felt that the tree had a certain amount of centiance to it. It knew when I was talking to it. It somehow willed it’s leaves to shiver when we spoke. This being provided something that all the carbon scrubbers in the world couldn’t produce. This thing did more than and water vaporizer could achieve. It was the last of what nature had left us. We, a stubborn human race refused to die. We refused often times that it was our pride and need for a better life that lead to this decline, but we can’t deny it now, not really. We could have prevented it. We could have left this world better than we found it. \n\nI oftentimes wonder what my fathers’ fathers of of 10 times might have done if they could see the shallow abbys that their track would lead. The rich folk that prospered off the world’s misery didn’t care what they left for their children I guess. Now, this tree is all we have left.\n\nI can see why some people resent me for keeping it alive. It’s a reminder of how things used to be. I can see the regret and sometimes anger on their faces. I want to tell them sorry, but I can’t say for what. I’m not doing anything wrong by keeping it alive.\n\nAlthough, it is more or less hopeless. This tree had evolved over the years to stop breeding, this things could never reproduce. It’s almost as though the trees knew we wouldn’t end our destruction, so they took matters into their own hands. It’s chilling really. I can’t imagine the hopeless dread one would feel in that situation.\n\nI looked up at the tree, a massive twisting mass of wood. A trunk that would have taken four men to wrap around it fully. The limbs started at about 6 feet up, and they hung with small, heavy, thick leaves shaped like raindrops that used to conceal seeds that the libraries say used to spiral down like a children’s toy. I had seen a video of it in a display once. I think it used to be called a willow. Now, however, it is just a tree. No, it is just the tree.\n\nI went and patted the trunk of the beast. I slowly let myself down to sit on the ground by its base. I closed my eyes and let the warm air blow through the opened slits in the glass globe that was our home. My rest didn’t last long however, as I heard the door on the far side of the globe slide open with the familiar whine of hydraulics. I got up and walk around the tree till I could see a little girl walking in with her school bag and a mask. She must have been heading home.\n\n“Hello, little one. How can I help you?” I asked politely with a smile. She looked up at me with a shallow tears in her eyes. She took off her mask.\n\n“Can I sit in here?” She asked in a weak voice. I looked down at her with pity.\n\n“Sit down, little one. Take as long as you want.” At my encouragement, she sat in the grass that grew inside the dome. She took off her backpack and laid it down next to her. She closed her eyes… and just breathed.\nIt was impossible to look at, but more impossible to turn away from the little girl who laid on the ground, giving her lungs a break from the oxygen that was more artificial than natural. She was pale and had long red hair. Her cheeks were covered in many freckles. It’s a wonder she was alive. Most people as pale as her had died. The youngest ones first. The sun battered their defenceless skin without mercy or the shield that was the ozone layer. Upon closer examination I could see the sunburns that threatened to blister.\n\nI decided that the least I could do was give her some water. I went to the shed that rest against the wall of the dome and went to the bedroom and kitchen that was crudely made up in the corner. I walked in and the room lit up. The LED displays around the room came to life. I want to the water dispense and asked it to fill a cup. While I waited I looked through the window to the girl who was resting in the warm air. This time of year would normally be called spring, but there was no real winter to spring from anymore. We just called it April. That’s all it was. \n\nThe dispenser beeped and I looked over to see a full cup of ice water. I grabbed it and took it out to the little girl. She was near the dome’s wall, with her back to the tree. As I went to sit with my back against the glass, she opened her eyes and sat up.\n\n“Would you like some water?” I asked as I held it out to her. She nodded and took the water in her hands and raised it to her mouth, taking long and greedy gulps of the sweet water. She looked up at the tree.\n\n“What is his name?” She asked. I found it curious she thought it was a man. I always thought of the relic as a woman. I guess it didn’t matter.\n\n“It’s name is Willow.” I said back simply, “It’s my job to take care of it. And that isn’t always an easy task.”\n\n“How long has it been here?” She looked at me now. I screwed up my face as I thought about it.\n\n“I can’t say.” I replied, “Not off the top of my head at least. I know it’s older than you however, because it’s older than me.”\n\n“It was here when you were a kid?” She looked at the tree in amazement.\n\n“Yep, I looked up to it just the way you’re looking at it now. I fell in love with this tree when I was very young.” She kept looking at the beast. Her eyes wide, he knew, even though he couldn’t see. The surprise was slowly swept away as she grew sad by knowing it was the only one alive.\n\n“I wish there were more Willow’s.” She said simply as she laid down on the grass again. She shut her eyes.\n\n“Me too.” I looked down. I looked up again suddenly as I heard the leaves shuffle in the wind. Then my eyes were locked on this little green leaf floating down from the tree. It was spinning. It was twirling like a dancer and it floated down towards me. I watched at it spun like… like.\n\nLike a child’s toy.\n\nThe seed of the willow tree spun down and ended it decent on the face of the little girl who rested before me. I was too shocked to speak. I just looked up at the tree, and Willow seemed to smile.\n\nI felt something return to me after years of having lost it.\n\nHope.\n",
"It was an easy job. Or at least I thought so, like, it was a tree, it was still, and literally all the people around the world wanted to keep it safe, and I was the best doing my job.\n\nLiterally everything should have been alright, literally it was an easy task and, also literally, the tree is now on fire, and there’s nothing I can do because water is as scarce as trees are and my tool to put out fires is broken, apparently.\n\nIt was an easy job, but no one could have guessed that the first storm in decades, would be the one to cast a lightning bolt that ended up with our last tree.\n",
"There is still a haze that lingers after so many centuries. An unending twilight that carries a ghostly amber in the sun and an angry red in the night. The haze falls heavy today and the sun fries in a shimmer.\n\n\nBehind stands humanity's final hope. A hope for humility. The tree is large, grey with age and its leaves are sparse and it clings to life just barely. It rustles in the quiet. Everything is so quiet these days. Our kind is going, perhaps for the best.\n\n\nThe scars of war glint in the sun. Far off buildings, metal and forgotten, shine on the horizon and in the distance a scavenger howls. Then it is quiet again. The war has taken its toll and now that it has ended, we are left to suffer and wilt.\n\n\nThe tree behind is man's last hope at some abstract immortality. We have no delusions. We will die, but perhaps the tree could remain. It stands as a remnant of a more civilized time. It stands as a memorial of when man thrived and when the air was clear and free to breathe. We will die, we've accepted as much, but perhaps the tree will remain. Its skeleton can assuage the vast plains of destruction we've left. Its presence can show some future civilization that one time we were not just monsters. One time we had a future. \n\n\nBut there are monsters now and they stalk the shadows as shameless scavengers. As the sun sets and all goes dark, I feel the movements nearby. I un-holster my gun and say my prayers. From the gas mask all is distorted and seems unreal.\n\n\nThere is a rustle. The great wastes that surround the tree leave scarce room for tactics or for hiding. A figure comes from the dark and he lunges at me.\n\n\n\"Man-cutters!\" he shrieks.\n\n\nYou're always taken off guard no matter how hard you train. I am taken off guard and he claws at me in my instant of hesitation. Then I fire at him and he falls and I know it is merely a diversion.\n\n\nThe tree crackles behind and I turn around. The man holds a torch and kerosene drips from the rags and he is partially on fire.\n\n\n\"Man-cutter!\" he cries.\n\n\nThat is the slur used against us remaining few who had won the war. What was left of the world after the war had split into two sects. The losers who had propagated the destruction of the Earth, who had preached living for the now. They were the Destroyers. Then there was us, the Man-cutters as they call us. We believe in preservation and long term thinking, long term survival, even if it means a few short term deaths. \n\n\n\"You place trees above men,\" the Destroyers had said. \"You cut men to save bushes!\"\n\n\nAnd it was so that the war was started by the Destroyers who believed that nuclear weapons were meant to be used and used generously.\n\n\nNow this destroyer was near the tree and the fire fell drunkenly. I shoot at him and he falls and the torch falls and the air is combustive. That haze that remains has an oily feel and the surroundings light in a yellow brilliance.\n\n\n\"No!\" I call.\n\n\nThe roots catch and the fire crawls and then it runs up the grey bark. I shoot the man in anger again and again. There is no water nearby and there is nothing to do.\n\n\nMore scavenger cries fill the air and I think they are laughing. The fire is a beacon to their cause and I hear footfalls surround me. I look at the tree and I cry from inside the mask and think how have we gotten to this point.\n\n\nMan's only salvation, his only repentance for the carnage he has caused, is burning much like all he has touched. No one now will know how we were. No one will know of what we accomplished before we tore at each other's throats. No one would know we were not always so savage, and that once, we were kind and unified. No one would ever know. The Destroyers surround me and my gun feels heavy in my hand.\n\n\n*Perhaps it is for the best,* I think. ",
"Sitting at this desolate bar with my bag occupying the seat next to me, I reach through the fabric to double check that the organism is still there. I know it is, it hasn't moved in two days, but I need to check every hour for my own stability. The two leaves of the sapling are just staying to bud and my my face cracks into a slight smile as I feel them with my hand. \r\n\r\n“Are, what you got there girl?”\r\n\r\nI turn to see two drifters staring at me as they approach from the bags side. As I go to move it off the stool, one reached out and grabs one of the straps. \r\n\r\nI want afraid of the life sentence in a camp I would undoubtedly recited if caught, I was afraid for my tree. So small, still so weak, and the only one myself out anyone had seen in since 3800. \r\n\r\nAs this crossed through my mind, my body was working on its own. The motions fluid, controlled, precise. The snap of the small strap being undone. The the eight inch blade piling free of my thigh. The red painting the floor. \r\n\r\nI almost go into a meditative trance as my subconscious takes care of the bar. No trace can be left. No one to talk about what happened. I am the protector of something lost so long ago. This is my secret, my job. \r\n"
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[WP] In day-to-day life your house changes to accommodate your needs. Today, you wake up in an intergalactic warship.
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"\"What the fuuuu...\" The curse trails off. Dazed, and a little confused, I sit up my now Spartan bedroom. Funny, as I went to sleep in a lavish castle. The nights before that, an R.V. I really should have read the contract more closely before buying that R.V. No one sells an R.V. to a 17 year old for 200 bucks. I get up, and my feet hit the cold tile floor. Spotlessly clean, I mean, you could *eat* off it. I looked around, and jumped with a start.\nInstead of blue sky outside of the window, (or porthole more like it) there was a deep black, and earth. A little blue marble, slowly getting smaller.\n\nI was in space.\n\nNow wide awake, i wildly looked around. Closet, nightstand, lamp (cool looking one at that) and a blast door. I guess I''m in the captains quarters. By the door there is a glowing panel, made of pure light. A hologram. Fascinating.\n\nI go over to inspect the console, but before I can do that a voice says from nowhere \"Captains presence requested on the bridge.\" The door slides into the wall, and glowing path illuminates my route. I look around one last time, and see a contact lens case on my night stand. I don't wear contacts, but I grab the case, put it in my sweats, and follow the path to the bridge. \n\nAs i walk along, I see other rooms, intended for soldiers, but empty. Strange. Further along, out a window I see huge guns on the prow of my ship. Funny. *MY* ship. Finally I reach the bridge.\nThe double doors slide open as i approach. Stepping in I see many consoles, chairs, and a central command table, but still no crew. I spot the captains chair, and sit down in it. The voice says to me, \"Please put on your HoloView contact lenses before proceeding.\" \n\nI take the case out of my pocket, and inspect the contact lenses. Sure enough, I can make out tiny bits of circuitry threaded throughout each lens. As I put them in I ask \"Who are you?\" The voice responds. \"I am the ships artificial intelligence system, identified as Sonora.\" I finally get the contacts in, and green letters flash before my field of vision \"Confirming Identity...\" and then \"Genetic sequence matched.\" Puzzled, I asked \"Genetic match to who? I'm an orphan, never knew my parents.\" Sonora replied \"You are matched to Arron Klar, Admiral of the F Class warship Oceanus, third in line for command of the Regolean fleet. Now deceased. This makes you Clinton Kalr, his only living heir.\" That was like a slap in the face. Now I know I'm at least 1/2 alien. Wow. Still stunned I asked \"What is this place? Why was it an R.V., then a castle, and now a war ship?\" Sonora replied \"The details are classified, but what i can tell you is that this ship is equipped with space bending stealth tech in order to take on the appearance of anything at anytime for survival.\" Suddenly, a HUD appeared before my eyes. \"That would be your HoloView,\" said Sonora. \"It appears the up-link was successful.\" \n\nBefore i could reply, warning lights started flashing, and another ship appeared on the edge of the radar display in the corner of my eye. \"What is that?\" I asked nervously. \"It appears that another warship is on an intercept course with us. What should I do?\" \"I, uhh...\" I racked my brain, trying to think of what they do in all those sci-fi movies I've watched. \"Um, hail them?\" I said. \"Of course.\" There were a few moment of silence, and then, \"They are refusing all hails.\" \"Scan them from top to bottom. Do we have enough time to that?\" I asked. \"More than enough time.\" replied Sonora. A few seconds later she said. \"It appears to be a Delta class Trygorian interceptor, with weapons primed. Your command?\" \nI sighed, and settled back into my chair. \"Prime defenses, and prepare to counterattack.\" I rubbed my eyes and watched the little red triangle get closer to our position. \"If we can, lets get out of here as soon as possible.\" \"Of course captain. However, there are prisoners on the ship, friendly to the Regoleans. What about them?\" \nI sighed again. \n\nThis was going to be a long day.",
"I get up, ready to face the challenges awaiting me. I look out the window and see the outer space staining back at me. Soon as I continue to gaze on I see another ship approaching. I look at my bed say \"F*ck this I'm going back to bed.\" I hop back into the bed and get nice and cozy, and I right as I'm about to fall asleep my house gets blown up by that other ship. THE END. (My first story don't judge)"
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I figured this would be an interesting twist on the "numbered people" trope that pops up all over this subreddit. Rather than the numbers being a sign of someone being different, they were a sign of a totalitarian existence.
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[WP] In a world where everyone is assigned a number, only one being was allowed a name.
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"\"Hey 183839 look at this kids face, it kinda looks like a potato\"\n* unimpressed \"Thats nice\"\n\"Hey 183839 what if instead of naming this kid 293860 like we're supposed to, what is we named him *snickers potatoface.\n\"184820 we can't call him potatoface thats stupid\"\n\"You're stupid\"\n\"No im not. If anyone is stupid its you\" \n\"You no what I didn't even want to call him potatoface\"\n\"Good so fill out the paperwork and name him 292860 like your supposed to.\"\n\"Gosh fine!\"\n*writes 183839 is a big dumb idiot \nAnd thus the first child is born with a name that is not completely a number.",
"After the World Gender Law of 3123 was passed, all newborns were assigned a number by a machine built by the Legendary Mark Jobs. \n\nIt was determined that any name given to a person, would imply either a male or female gender. Gender Neutral name or not, You're name placed you into a category. \n\nWith the rise of Transgender beings, and feminists around the world, revolts had followed, leading to blood shed at every corner of the globe. People did not want to be placed into the category of \"feminine\" or \"Masculine\", Male or Female, by their name that identified them. People wanted a change. No label. To be unified and not separate.\n\nThe year was 33023 D.O.L - De Oppresso Liber. The last child was assigned their name by Job's machine, before the reset: \n\nFirst:\n999\nMiddle:\n999k\nLast:\n999m\n\nThe name translating to number 999,999,999.\n\nThe baby was born beautiful and healthy, as every baby was. A Type 2 Diabetic born with 12 fingers and large eyes. It's skin was pale as snow. The child's producers waited in the Waiting Hall, while broken machines patted the baby and cradled it back and forth in a brute manner. \n\nNothing was ever complete in this day and age. With everyone forced by law to feel \"fine\" with one another, society was destroying itself. If a machine wasn't finished, it would be \"fine\". If someone did not get the job they wanted, it would be \"fine\". The people of the New World eradicated pain and the feeling of hurt, only to imprison themselves in a world of one feeling. The feeling that everything is okay; it's \"fine\".\n\nThen on a fine day, to two unsuspecting producers, I was born. The birth certificate was printed out, and on it, my name appeared... \n\nFirst:\nHope\nMiddle:\n0\nLast:\n0\n\nImmediately in a world of lifelessness, the world began to come alive again. Fear, Worry, Hope, etc. was felt throughout the world. This incident was something that was not prepared for. In the waiting room, the other producers and broke out into different groups. There were those that wanted me dead, those who wanted me alive, and those who wanted me to symbolize a change. Mr. Job's Machine self destructed after my name was printed out. For once in 30,000 years, humans felt something different. An emotion, different in each that divided people on the outside but brought people in touch with themselves on the inside.\n\nIn a world of chaos from the belief that all things are fine, no matter what the situation; with my situation of being born with a name, nothing was fine; and yet all was right with people once again. \n\nI was looked after by my providers and those who felt I brought hope. In looking after me, people started to build walls, and finish projects; organize. Those that wanted to kill me did the same. A fire arose in every human, that perpetuated the human race to complete more, to do more, to want more, to be more. Not just for my cause, but for the cause to be different, or the cause to want things the same. After Job's Machine broke, I may have had the first name that was not a number. But I didn't have the last. Others were named after me. Mark Hope. Terry Hope. Chris Hope. Chelsea hope. etc. \n\nThere was hope in people once again. \n"
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[WP] A Wizard decides to do Wizardry 'Swashbuckling-Pirate-style'. As if they had had multiple flintlock pistols, they have a bandolier for multiple wands. They drink Rum and infused botanical concoctions. They don't sail the seas. But they sail the mind, and reality and the esoteric.
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[
"He was old, as they tend to be. What they don't tend to do is shout \"Ya Harr, matey! This seems a good place to bury me treasure!\" This was a little confusing, but not too bad because it was at this point I was fairly certain I was dreaming. The sharp pain in my head when he planted the shovel in the ground was a more concerning, and I shouted at the strangely dressed man to stop his digging.\n\n\"Ow! What are you doing? That hurt!\"\n\nHe seemed unconcerned, and continued planting his spade in the greyish, grooved ground. \"Relax, mate. Everything's shipshape here. Give it a moment and you won't mind at all.\"\n\nWhen I made a move to stop his digging, his hands left the shovel for just a moment, only to twist in a complicated, impossible looking movement that left my mind twisting like a pretzel at the concept for an instant before my limbs twisted in the same way and locked in place. Satisfied, he turned away again and continued digging, to the accompaniment of grunts of pain from me.\n\nHe was right, though. After he got through the top layer, it didn't hurt anymore, and when he noticed that I still struggled against my invisible bonds, he laughed, loud and impossibly false, but his pleasure seemed real enough. \"Well, now. You're a lively one.\" He flourished a short, elaborate piece of wood from underneath his blue, fake-star-studded greatcoat and with no warning or message, recited a harsh sounding word that left my head feeling like it was full of Jello; like I'd been drinking for hours.\n\n\"Did I ever tell you about me first time sailing the Astral Sea?\" The hole he was digging seemed concerningly wide at this point, but still shallow. \"Aye. It was a grand adventure, that. No ship, no sails. I was as much a landlubber as you when I got tossed overboard off me own head. Arrr, but I got 'em back later on. Can't keep a wizard out of his own mind. Not unless you do it permanently. But you can maroon a bilge rat in his head with no way out, if you're good enough. Now where was I...\" he muttered, trailing off as he tried to remember the rest of the story.\n\nTalk of leaving someone trapped in their own head, forever and ever concerned me significantly more than the other parts of his tale, especially as the hole he dug would just about fit me if I curled up. My words slurred as I tried to object to this course of action. \"But I da' wanna be marooned...\" He almost looked surprised at this outburst, then burst out in great gales of laughter. \"Arr, mate, this hole ain't for you! I'm burying me treasure! Your head'll do me fine. Nice, fresh, never used field over here in your imagination. All your business is over in math! Only time you visit here is when you're asleep.\"\n\nI felt like I should be offended, but by now I had slumped into an oddly comfortable position for the invisible bindings that held me. \"But it's... MY imagination. It's mine.\" He tossed the shovel aside from the waist deep hole he stood in, then grunted with effort and pulled himself out. \"Strictly, yes, it may be, as that. But I'll be taking it. You won't even notice the hole, and even if you do, it'll just feel like an idea you've had before. Relax!\"\n\nHe stooped over to grab his shovel, and I wondered where it had gone, as he suddenly wasn't holding anything resembling a spade, then out of a small sack that looked more like a hole to nowhere he dragged a heavy, ornate chest. The chest thudded to the bottom of the hole he had dug, and then he waved a different looking, sigil-inscribed wand and the mass of dirt he had dug spread back over the hole, tamped down like a massive hand was smoothing it out. \"Well. That ought to do it. I'll be around, matey!\" And with a flick to my forehead, I was awake, in bed, with the last bits of a pounding headache fading and loud laughter in my ears.\n\nI drifted back off, and as I did, I wondered what was in the chest, and if I could get back there to find out."
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[WP] You receive a life-saving heart transplant surgery. Unbeknownst to you, the heart you received came from a deranged serial killer. Some part of him now lives within you and is slowly gaining influence.
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"Her fingers played along his jagged scars. \n\nHe held her close, he breathed into the hollow of her neck. \n\n\"Is that still you, Lyle?\" \n\n*Is it still me, sitting inside this container of flesh, with another soul pressing against my own?* \n\n\"It's me.\" he murmured, breathing in deeply, \"I'm alive. I'm here.\" \n\n\"You died.\" she swallowed, \"For a moment there, on the operating table, you were dead until they put a new heart inside of you.\" \n\n*Death is easy. Life is difficult. Death is so easy to-* \n\n\"-yle, Lyle!\" her hands touched his face. Her eyes scanned over his form. \"Are you feeling ill?\" \n\nHe rested his hand on her shoulder. \n\n*So close, a fragile neck within my reach. Death is easy, like snapping a toothpick-* \n\n\"...I want to go home.\" he said, closing his eyes. \"I'm tired of staying in hospital wards.\" \n\nHe brushed a hand over his chest, feeling the scar tissue twinge faintly in response. He felt a stutter in his chest, he felt a faint pressure in his skull. \n\n\"I'll see what I can do.\" her smile was relieved, so different from the constant worry that had plagued her ever since he'd first entered the hospital. \"I'm so glad you're alright. I was so worried you'd...disappear.\"\n\n*Death is-* \n\n\"Death's too easy.\" he said, firmly. \"I won't disappear like that.\" "
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[WP] "Pride goeth before a fall," you tell yourself as you put on the clown costume.
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"The suits hot, like wearing a rain coat on a humid summer day. He can smell himself, the acrid sweat, every breath out pushing back up his nose, reliving the onions and hot sauce from lunch. \n\n\"fuck it\", under his breath, quite so no one hears.\n\nhe steps out, onto the boards, the spot pinning him to the stage, the crowd yells, just a dull roar as he squint against the lights.\n\n\"Here he is folks\", the announcer screams into his mike, the crowd get impossibly louder. \"Now that we've got him in the clown suit, what's next? We'll check the polls right after this commercial break.\n\nThe light on the camera goes from green to red, the announcer sets down the mike, blots his forehead with a towel, careful not to mess up the make up and the clown just stands there. Albert reaches up to the whole head mask.\n\n\"uh uh uh, don't touch that,\" says the announcer. \"we'll be back on in a couple minutes anyways.\" He stares down the clown, middle aged face set, commands coming easy. The minutes crawl by as the sponsors get their chance to talk their audience, piped through the wires and frequencies, into hands and homes across the world.\n\n\"And how much longer am I on for?\" Albert thinks his voice sounds funny, muffled and unreal echoing around the mask. \n\n\"As long as the people want you, now face the camera were about to be back on. And don't forget to smile, hu hu hu\". Yeah, real funny Albert thinks.\n\nThe lights over the cameras blink back to green, a guy with a clipboard starts counting down with his fingers, 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...\n\"AND were back\", the announcer is going full volume. \"Now, what did the polls say?\" A card appears out of his pocket, Albert realizes it had to be there before they took the polls, which means he never had a chance. \"Looks like Bozo is headed to... THE FALLS!\" The lights strobe, the crowd goes wild, Albert is roughly seized by a couple of stage hands and yanked back behind the curtain. \n\n\"This isn't right, this isn't what I signed up for, it was a...\" one of the guys punches him in the stomach and all the air goes out. He can't breath, his head pounds and his lungs scream at him to get his shit together and take a breath. Albert can't do it, he can't even curl up into himself, the other guys has a strong grip. All he can do is lean forward and wait for his body to give control back while spit drips out of the mask. As fast as he lost all that breath, an explosive gasp, and his muscles are working again, he's gulping down air, trying to calm down. Like his lungs said, get it together. Now that he can focus on more than just breathing he notices that he's already been hustled off to a new sound stage. The announcer is waiting for him and in the background the crowd waits.\n\nThe audience is 30 feet back and 30 feet below the top of the narrow stage. The backdrop isn't a curtain but a solid wall painted a bright primary riot of colors applied in firm bold strokes. Below stage is the fall. Fifty feet of empty space, fronted with safety glass and obstructed by countless steel pins. The lights come up, the announcer is screaming into his mike, Albert can't make any of it out, he can barely keep his knees from buckling, but he knows he won't have to stand here long. An abrupt shove from behind sends him out into open space, slamming against the safety glass and falling into the space between it and the stage.\n\nThe crowd watches the clown bounce off the first pin and start to cartwheel. He narrowly misses a couple more pins. The bright white face and ruby grin slams into one hard enough the crowd can hear it, then his body is caught, bent in half over a pin 20 feet from the bottom. They wait, the red lights start flashing and the pin starts to rotate. Rocking back and forth first left, then right, further left, further right, until the clown slips off, careens down the remaining fall and lands in the 15 point bin. The crowd howls and shrieks in celebration."
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[WP] You find a strange wire tunneling through your wall from the outside. You follow it into the woods, and to a 1950's bunker whose entrance is strewn with wires. The murmur of some machine hums inside.
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"Trying to process what your ears are inputting you begin to focus on the visual. Muddy footprints mixed with blood half washed away by last nights rain track down the crumbling staircase. Your chest tightens, your breathing heightens and your heart is pounding. Eyeing tire tracks trailing off thru the woods you can hear off in the distance the faint murmuring of heavy equipment. Slowly yet to no avail attempts to regain some sort of composure to calm the thoughts racing around your mind abruptly halts as you fall into a sort of surreal slow motion time travel brought on by the deliberate grinding of a rusted door handle slowly opening behind you. As if paralyzed you are unable to move from the sound of footsteps racing up the steps and the only reaction you can take is to receive the sharp searing pain shooting into your skull and as if someone flipped a switch all goes black....."
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[WP] Your time machine broke, and you're trying hard not to blow your cover with the cavemen.
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"Well what do you know? Not two hours ago some crockpot was filling my head with some mystic mumbo jumbo crap about time travel and there was me nodding along like a fool thinking this was the easiest dough I ever made. Turned out the doc was on to something alright. Should have listened to the part about the return journey.\r\n\r\nNow I’m standing two feet away from Neanderthal Bob, looking like the creator skipped a couple of crucial steps in his case. Guess that's where that saying about mothers and faces comes from. He's not all sweet and sunny either, and I’m guessing him and his ape cousin do a lot of hanging out together. \r\n\r\nSwell I think to myself, this is a long way from downtown. The doc said a lot about prehistoric times. Funny how I’m starting to remember all this crap real suddenly. \r\n\r\nI look at Bob again, he's getting all agitated. “Christ you’re an ugly brute” I says. He doesn't bite, though from the look of his jaw that's a regular old pastime of his. He gestures awkwardly at me, so I gesture awkwardly right back. He doesn't like that. I’m not liking the look of him much either, so I gesture again. \r\n\r\nHe finds this times as good as any to get spooked and steps things up a notch with a grab for where I keep my thinking bits. His hands, well claws more like, have a yellow stain to them and look like they could use a good scrub. I try and tell him to let go with my fists, and we end up having a lengthy discussion. Finally, I grimace and give him some life advice out of my holster.\r\n\r\nBob hits the ground as dead as his whole damn era was when I woke up this morning. All about solving the immediate problems I am. I don't have time to give him a second thought though, his ape cousin and their friendly motorcycle gang decide suddenly that a loud noise is as good as any to make an entrance.\r\n\r\nThey all decide they need to take a long hard look at Bob, and then at me. I decide to just look at them. They don't look happy, but then again I’m having a hard time reading what they would probably call facial features. They have big sticks.\n\nI hope Bob sired that damn doc.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n",
"\"This was a great honeymoon idea, sweetie,\" Jessica said, gazing lovingly at her new husband.\n\n\"Well, I hate to say I told you so, but...\" Hank started.\n\n\"But, what?\" Jessica said expectantly.\n\n\"Did we leave the time machine door open?\" Hank said, a trace of panic in his voice.\n\n\"What?\" Jessica turned and looked toward their time machine. \"Oh my god!\"\n\n\"I'm sure we just left it open by mistake. Nothing could have found it hidden up here in the mountains.\"\n\nThe two of them hurried up to the machine, and looked inside. Hank's heart sunk at the sight of it. A large rock was siting in a metal crater that had been the main console of the time machine. He slid into the driver's seat and put his key in. As he turned the key, he begged the machine to kick on, but it only answered him with a dull whirring sound.\n\n\"This is bad,\" Jessica said. \"Whose crazy idea was it to come back to visit Neanderthals? Why did I let you talk me into this?\"\n\n\"You were just saying two minutes ago how much you had enjoyed our honeymoon.\"\n\n\"Two minutes ago I wasn't trapped 55,000 years into the past!\"\n\n\"Settle down, settle down. Remember, they sent us back with an emergency message system in the unlikely event that something like this happens. This is why we booked this trip with a reputable time travel agency.\"\n\n\"You're right, you're right,\" Jessica said, taking a couple of deep breaths. \"I'm sorry I shouted at you, I'm just frightened is all.\"\n\n\"It's alright,\" Hank said, rummaging in the back of the time machine. \"I'm scared too...\"\n\nJessica waited for Hank to finish his sentence. \"Have you always done this trail off in mid-sentence thing, and I just never notice before?\" Jessica asked finally.\n\n\"The box is gone,\" Hank said quietly.\n\n\"What? What do mean?\"\n\n\"It's gone! The special metal box that we're suppose to bury next to the time machine if something goes wrong. It's missing!\"\n\n\"How can that be?\"\n\n\"Whoever or whatever did this to the time machine rifled through our stuff. Our extra food, our weapons, all of it. It's gone!\"\n\n\"I told you this was a terrible idea Hank!\" Jessica raged at Hank for a few minutes longer, then the two of them sat in silence for a while.\n\n\"There's still hope,\" Hank said finally.\n\n\"What hope?\" Jessica asked. \"Do you think it'll just turn up under the cushions?\"\n\n\"No. But we still have our universal translators, and we still have our cavemen clothes. Let's go back down this mountain and get Grog to help us track down whatever took our stuff.\"\n\n\"We're not supposed to reveal the time machine to anyone!\"\n\n\"He's a caveman! He won't know what it is. We'll just tell him it's a strange rock that we were hiding our things in. But he spends his whole life hunting, he can help us track down whatever did this.\"\n\n\"I guess it's better than nothing,\" Jessica said flatly.\n\n\"That's the spirit,\" Hank said with faux enthusiasm.\n\nThe two of them clambered down the mountain and back into the cave they had left just a few hours ago.\n\n\"Grog?\" Jessica called inside. They heard a grunt of a response.\n\n\"We need help Grog.\" Hank called.\n\nThey heard more grunting, before Grog walked out into the light. He was a tall fellow that towered over both of them. His spotted fur clothing made him look all the more fearsome a hunter.\n\n\"What help?\" Grog asked, grunting out strange neanderthal sounds that Hank and Jessica's translators instantly decoded.\n\n\"Something took our things. We need you to help us hunt the culprit down,\" Jessica said.\n\n\"Hunt?\" \n\n\"Yes, hunt. Up the mountain.\"\n\n\"Grog hunt.\"\n\nAnd with that, Grog followed them back up the mountain. After some climbing, they finally made it back to the time machine.\n\n\"Now Grog, this is a special rock that held our things,\" Hank said. He was about to continue when he heard a quiet yelp.\n\nHank spun around, and saw Jessica being held in a one armed headlock by Grog. Grog was holding out the shiny metal box Hank had been looking for.\n\n\"I need you to put in your pin number,\" Grog said in perfect English. \"I'm not staying in this godforsaken place one second longer.\"\n\n*****\n\nRead more of my prompt responses by subscribing to [Pubby's Creative Workshop](https://www.reddit.com/r/Pubby88).",
"The beast spins in its grave. Besides the campfire, Oogha turns the spit. The boar drips hot fat into the flame. You can see the burning reflect in their hungry eyes.\n\nWith the hunt complete, the celebrations begin. At first, I meet Gorghua and his wife, Groghua, who explains the history of her maiden name: Groghua. I nod nervously, it feels as if the fire is burning hotter as we drink pond water from a hollowed out turtle shell. There's hell to pay, apparently, when Krunk-krunk makes a fuss about some stuff in a brush. We turn our heads. The Gorghua's walk and I follow into the somber night. The sight knocks me sober. \n\nIt's mine. It's boxy and chrome. \n\nWithout word my jaw sinks just shy of my turtle-cup. I sip awkwardly and stare. Oogha has several clubs prepared for the occasion. It's just desecration, no reason to get nervous, Jim. Or to them: Grumb. It was a translation error, but they suspect nothing, I'm sure.\n\nThe first of the Groghuas takes his club and strikes the metal machine. And then his wife takes her turn until it's pure chaos, there's bits everywhere and plates dented in. My transportation, it's gone. Lost in time, poor me, poor Grumb. \n\nThey offer me a club, I take it and tell them to hold my turtle cup. Loosely, in caveman speak, I say, \"Let's fuck this thing up\". \n\nIt's tatters, it's ruins, it's simply no more. My only ship home, destroyed by my own strength. I hid it for so long. What little is left is sprockets and sheets. We're hungry you see, so we return to the fire.\n\nThe great feast is exactly that, the hunt was successful, no need for it to go to waste. I stick my face in boar flesh and consume, it tastes fantastic. It's wonderful. Gorghua, Oogha and Gorghua, they tell me another tale about the odd clothes that she wore when they first found her almost undressed-that decade ago. They added three inches to her height, she claimed the heels were weapons. Ceremonial you see, so I decide, why not? I'll make the best out of life.\n\nSo I'm now fucking Gorghua, Gorghua's ex-wife. "
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[WP] Turns out our solar system is just a huge spaceship. One day a voice loud and clear says "You have arrived at your destination"
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"It started in the night.\n\nA warm, inviting sound with an incredible vibrato invaded my dream. It was a noise unlike any other- unfit for human comprehension. My slumber was quickly shattered by how loud it resonated. It started strong and tapered off only to repeat; I was fully alert by the third sound-off. \n\nI quickly scampered to my frosty window to investigate, only to find a frightening sight: everyone was awake. There was no mistake about it: everyone heard it. As the last tone faded, it seemed still that a low vibration could be felt in the air. I heard my mother rushing down the hall - likely questioning her sanity - when the noise was replaced with silence. She broke into my room just as I'd finished pulling on my jumper. She carried both a frightened and relieved gaze as she grabbed my arm and shouted \"We need to go *now!*\"\n\nI couldn't interrupt the voice even if I tried.\n\nIt was way louder and clearer than anything I've ever heard in my entire life.\n\nWith a resounding boom, it spoke:\n\"*You have arrived.*\"\n\nWe were both frozen in place, enchanted by an unseen presence. Fully capable of speaking, we silently saw the skies slowly lose their color and detail like a resolution slowly being turned down on a central monitor, until there was nothing but pitch black against the gaps between the monolithic buildings. \n\nAnd then the sky opened up to the light. ",
"\"Ground control, can you hear me?!\" The receiver returned static as the three astronauts stared back at Earth in horror. \n\n\"What is going on? What was that and how could we even hear it out here?\" Panic cut through Susan's voice. The space station drifted over North America, Earth's shadow had divided the US in half. It would've been just about sunset in Texas, her home state. \n\nThe entire east coast was pitch black, a sight the astronauts had never seen. \n\n\"I could see the lights from New York City just a few minutes ago. Do you think it's terrorism? How could the entire grid get knocked out?\" John said, as he mindlessly chewed on his thumb. He and Susan stared down in silence through the view port's main window, thinking of home. Lee had turned away, staring out past Earth. He turned suddenly and pushed the other two astronauts out of the way. \n\n\"Wait! Look!\" Lee pointed out towards the Pacific. The Moon's crescent could be seen just past the edge of Earth. \"If that's the Moon, what is this over here?\" The three astronauts turned to look out into space. \n\nA yellow sphere had appeared. The astronauts couldn't gauge the distance. It appeared smaller than the Moon from their position but big enough that they could see craters on the surface. It was steadily getting bigger. \n\n\"Lee, try to get through again, we need to warn people. Susan, get a reading on that thing. How big is it and how far away?\" John tried to remember the emergency scenarios from training. He needed to do something to keep himself from breaking down. \n\n\"I..I think it's too late.\" Susan said quietly. Tears had drifted away from her face as she stared back at Earth. John broke his gaze away from the mysterious yellow planet to look back at Earth. \n\nThe arc of a line had formed on land, casting a dark, narrow shadow that stretched from California through the mountains and plains, into the darkness of the eastern United States. From their view, it was only a sliver, but on the surface, it was a gash many miles wide. \n\nLee started screaming. The yellow planet had grown so quickly from their perspective, it was now much larger than the Moon. It had two visible slits on its surface. They widened into milky, ocean sized eyes. \n\n\"NO NO NO NO NO NO\" Susan had to look away, wrapping her hands around her head as she floated back away from the windows. John was faintly aware that he had pissed himself, but he turned his gaze back to Earth. He sensed he may be one of the few people able to witness the end of humankind unfolding. \n\nThe entirety of the Midwest was shifting before him, as the dark sliver of a line grew in a milky, almond shaped eye, thousands of miles wide. The Earth turned below them, so quickly that clouds over North America lagged behind and the space station was immediately over the Pacific. The west coast changed shape as the ocean pulled away. Unheard were the screams of millions. Those that hadn't perished as the Earth opened up were now being blasted away by apocalyptic winds and currents. The great eye now facing the new, horrific planet. \n\nThe space station erupted with alarms as every component rattled violently. The voice returned in a slow, deep vibration. \n\n\"HOW WAS THE TRIP?\" The view port window cracked. It didn't matter to John. Lee had stopped screaming, heaving for air now. Every alarm was sounding. \n\n\"GREAT! I SLEPT THE ENTIRE TIME!\" As the last word subsided, a loud hissing and the sound of metal tearing took over the bells and alerts. The two planets were now side by side. Eyes the size of continents, staring lovingly at each other. \n\nThey kissed. ",
"BING-BING: You have arrived at your destination. Thank you for your patronage.\n\nBING-BONG: The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only. There is no stopping in the red zone.\n\nI walked into my closet and grabbed my travel bag that I've always kept packed since I was a teen. I'd always wanted to travel, see exotic lands, and possibly find a new place to live besides Phoenix.\n\n\"Where the fuck do I go?\" I mean, I was still on Earth and the directions were vague, at best. I decided that if a globally-heard voice could announce my arrival somewhere, then it should hear me yelling at it in return.\n\n\"HEY YOU, where do I go? I want off of this rock and where the hell is pick-up?\" I kept my hands cupped around my mouth for twenty seconds too long, but I think it added a dramatic, and serious effect. \"Where's the white zone?\"\n\nI was met with silence, until my parents came outside and japed me, megaphoning their mouths and yelling up at the sky, \"Take me from my prison.\" \"Save me from this Earth.\" And lastly, \"Dyer's Eve is upon him.\" What the hell that even means. \n\nI scowled at them in my fiercest way and trundled up the street, dragging my WalMart luggage behind me. \n\nI walked for two hours before I needed a piss break. I parked my finest luggage and attire outside of a Chevron gas station, then went inside to do my business. When I emerged, I realized that my quality WalMart gear and best clothes were missing. \"Drats,\" I exclaimed.\n\nI wandered around the parking lot for tens of minutes, distraught and out of sorts. How could my intergalactic journey start off any worse? More importantly, how could I impress the multitudes of alien ladies I was bound to encounter when I finally reached the White Zone. I'd reached a crossroads.\n\nBING-BONG: The red zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only. There is no stopping in the white zone.\n\nWHAT?? "
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You survived the apocalypse, sure it was by accident but you did it. You haven't seen a living person in three years, but you're still holding on to hope. After all, you survived didn't you?
You go to a library and find the four horsemen. Only, they're not scary. Not at all. And now, you're very confused.
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[WP] Having survived the apocalypse you go to the library and meet the four horsemen, they're not what you'd think.
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"\" '… The tide was way out.' Are you fucking kidding me?!\" I say to no one as I throw the big blue bastard across the room into the pile of Jackson Pollocks. Pacing back and forth.\n\"What a going away present! Seriously the love of my life gets herself dead like everyone else and her parting gift is this passive agressive book to get me to what be self reflective about drugs and my 'problem' or just read a nonsense thousand page book with no fucking point to make her self feel smarter!\"\n\nI shout to myself a lot more since the stereo completely checked out but it's an improvement since last weeks Hum-chella. Pacing back and forth thinking of the ways I can get rid of this three year investment in lost bookmarks rereading the same damn footnotes on accident and guilt to complete. \n\nFinally I just settle for the tyrants delight, a swift kick into the living room fire pit. As I line up the shot pull back my leg and set to release I see something peeking out of the back cover.\n\n\"A return slip for the library?\" Classic Brenda the type to be condescending while gifting an over due library book. Now what am I supposed to do I'm not about to go Library of Alexandria in my own home, I'll return it. \n\n\"This way when the aliens finally come maybe they'll understand why we were such a shit species and got dead 'Space Christ look at this nonsense, Zorbadoo' they'll say.\"\n\nBesides it's nice out and I haven't pissed in my old bosses office in a week.\n\nBladder getting recklessly full and book in hand I wander up the hill to the big glass cathedral of nerd. There's a faint smell of horse shit that only gets stronger as I wander towards the contemporary classics section. I'll put it on the stand so Zarbadoo and his boys will have to read that labor first.\n\"God what is that smell?\"\n\n\"No I'm Famine and that's horse shit?\" A windy voice says from the other side of the stacks.\n\n\"Whoa-ly talking skeleton on a white horse Batman!\" I scream as I fall over a stack behind me.\n\n\"Fam who are you talking to?\" A distant voice shouts out\n\n\"I'm not sure its some sweaty little dude, I think it might be Robin\" Fam says.\n\n\"Wait like a human person, little dude?\" Another voice asks.\n\n\"Yeah!\"\n\n\"Does he play?\" A fourth voice asks\n\n\"Do you play?\" Fam asks\n\n\"Uh… Wha what, what are you?\"\n\n\"Oh sorry must be a big shock three years of loneliness and contemplation of suicide I'd bet this has got to be a lot to take it. Well I'm Famine friends call me 'Fam' clingers call me 'Mine' ha!\"\n\n\"Dude that wasn't funny in Gamorrah and it still isn't. I'm Death, I'd shake your hand but I got this thing about germs and it'd probably kill you.\"\n\n\"This is Conquest, he prefers Conny Quest since we binged the most of the eighties cartoons last summer, he hasn't talked much since we broke all borders, I think he's kinda depressed.\" Fam says\n\n\"I'm not depressed I just don't like new peop--\"\n\n\"DOES HE FUCKING PLAY?!\"\n\n\"Boss Almighty! War I don't know yet he's still just shaking and I think he peed.\"\n\n\"I was gonna go to my bosses but I, I\" I trailed off and blacked out.\n\n\"Damnit Death your horse made him sick\"\n\n\"It's not my fault the thing died when I drove it off the lot we're lucky God gave it a false starter other wise we'd all have been walking\"\n\n\"Still that thing is horrendous\" I say as I come to.\n\n\"Oh good your alive\" said the fourth Skeleton\n\n\"And you must be War?\" \n\n\"Yup so, to you play?\"\n\n\"What?\" I say.\n\n\"DnD we need a cleric\"\n\n\"Shit yeah! I keep my dice in the freezer!\"\n\n\"Huh?\" says Fam.\n\n\"You know fresh dice, fresh rolls.\" I kinda thought everyone did that, \"but I need to change anyways can one of you give me a ride home?\"\n\n\"I got you,\" Fam says.\n\nI'm starting to think Conny is warming up to me he was giddy as can be when he heard I rolled and started setting up a stupid big grid map. War smashed a couple book cases in celebration. \n\n\"It was the YA section so Zorbadoo probably won't mind. But I still can't shake this feeling that Brenda was right and I really had lost it a long time ago.\" \n\n\"No fuck Brenda.\" Fam says.\n\n\"Did I say that out loud?\" I stammer, \"Shit it's been so long since I've talked to anyone I forget to think in my head sometimes.\"\n\n\"It's okay you roll, you're cool, and besides she started all this.\"\n\n\"She what?\"\n\n\"Yeah she caused the end of ends.\" Famine explained, \"Well think about it you put up with her petty back handedness about your 'problem' you smoke weed and did a little too much acid that one time but she made you take that shit office job to support her acting career, meanwhile fucking Keith-\"\n\n\"Oh Keith? Seriously?\"\n\n\"Yeah Keith, I mean hell you proposed and she said I don't think you're ready and gave you a library book with one day left on it.\"\n\n\"Okay so she's definitively the worst sure but how'd that end the world?\"\n\n\"Well God finished Infinite Jest that week and was kinda pissed that DFW wasn't helping him with the ending and considering the whole Brenda thing especially being that book he just kinda called it.\"\n\n\"Oh I'm on the left here.\"\nWe walked into the kitchen Famine naturally couldn't resist sorting my compost out of my garbage. I grabbed my dice and we were off again cold plastic and character sheets in hand.\n\n\"Cool place, I liked your art pile.\"\n\n\"Thanks I found this bunker a while back that just had a bunch of Jackson's stuff I still don't get it but I was thinking about making a coffee table out of them or something.\"\n\n\"Awesome repurposed canvas is all the rage these days.\"\n\n\"Who decides that?\"\n\n\"You. Like just now.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" I take a moment to let that way down on me I'm the trend setter and follower of my own trends and the question started begging me \"So why I am I still here?\"\n\n\"Simple we need a cleric.\""
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[WP] Two cannibals discuss going vegan for dinner.
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"\"Beef?\"\n\n\"Yeah, why not?\"\n\n\"Why not? Because it's too tender! There's no texture, it's just... fat.\"\n\n\"We eat fat!\"\n\n\"Yeah, only because the bigger ones have more meat on them, and they're easier to catch and keep in one place!\"\n\n\"Okay, maybe not beef. What about, I don't know, venison or something?\"\n\n\"Apparently venison is like really chewy.\"\n\n\"You were just complaining about beef being too tender.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but beef is too tender!\"\n\n\"I mean, you're right, but ... never mind.\"\n\n\"I feel like this isn't going to work. We're not going to go vegan.\"\n\n\"This isn't really even going vegan. We're just taking the first step.\"\n\n\"How about pizza?\"\n\n\"Pizza?\"\n\n\"Yeah, we could just order like a meat lovers pizza. They've got all kinds of meat on them, plus like sauce and other stuff. It's not healthy but it's still a step up from this.\"\n\n\"Sounds good to me. Keep one of those arms in the fridge though, we'll need something to wash it down if we don't like it.\"\n\n\"Should we take of the nails first? And the watch?\"\n\n\"Of course, that's a good freaking watch. We can keep the nails for later.\"\n\n------------------------------------------------------------\n\n*Trying the 'all dialogue' format. Hope you like it!*",
"Roasted liver with fava beans and Amarone. Exactly how my partner and I liked it.\n\nI cut a small part of the meat with my knife, appraising the overall quality of the meat as I slowly chewed it in my mouth, letting all the rich flavors seep into my taste buds. My lips curled up into a satisfied smile - the liver had been cooked to perfection. I would expect nothing else from my wife, who had perfected the art of cooking such an exotic, delicate meat.\n\nI looked up to compliment the chef, but for some reason my wife had barely touched her food. She was playing around with the beans, constantly picking one with a spoon and dropping it on the plate in a rather dramatic fashion. Feeling a bit worried, I questioned this odd behavior of hers.\n\n\"Honey, why aren't you eating the food?\" I spoke as a bit of juice dribbled from one side of my lips. \"It tastes like heaven, in case you were wondering.\"\n\nA coy smile formed on her lips as I finished speaking, but her appetite still didn't return to her. \"Nothing Brad... I was just wondering - no, never mind.\"\n\nBut it was too late; my curiosity had already been piqued. \"Oh, come on Mary! Don't leave me hanging now!\" I placed my hand over hers, gently squeezing in order to reassure my wife from whatever problems that were besieging her.\n\n\"Well... honey, have you ever thought of going vegan?\"\n\n------\n\nThe divorce had been finalized. My soon to be ex-wife was still sobbing, begging me to not leave. But it was impossible. Our lifestyles, which were once perfectly compatible, had been permanently put off balance ever since Mary'd dared to propose such a drastic change.\n\nBut I didn't even address her. To me, Mary was a fellow cannibal who realized the novelty of human meat. She was one of the few people who truly understood me and my... unique tastes. \n\nThat person was dead. And the person sobbing in front of me was... a *vegan*. Even saying the word caused me to convulse out of sheer disgust, and that was not a way I wanted to live the rest of my life.\n\nThis way, it would be better for the both of us.",
"\"It just isn't doing it for me anymore, Jerry.\" Said Cal, letting out a deep sigh. \n\n\"Can't do what?\" Jerry raised an eyebrow. Cal gently laid the sandwich down on his plate, with some of the questionable meat slathering over the pristine china. \"I thought you liked sloppy Joe night?\"\n\n\"Oh, I do,\" Cal responded, not taking his eyes off the meal. \"It's just that...well, you know-\"\n\n\"It was Margaret, wasn't it?\" \n\n\"No, no that's not it...\" \n\n\"Did she give you the bug? I knew she should have been sitting in the pot for an extra hour - it's going around, you know. The roast was a little undercooked, I'll say.\"\n\nThe room fell silent for a moment. Cal's eyes roamed off his sandwich and into his eyes, relunctantly swallowing the last bite of his now, unbearable dinner before opening his mouth to speak. \"I mean *this*, Jerry. For once, I would like to have a nice meal that didn't involve-\"\n\n\"Don't even say it.\"\n\n\"Will you let me finish?\"\n\n\"What are you trying to say, Cal?\" Jerry pestered from across the table, obviously becoming frustrated.\n\n\"What I've been saying for a few months! We've never consumed anything other than your 'fall-off-the-bone' ribs, or your so called 'upside-down brain sickle' cake; which by the way, isn't so original let alone bland.\"\n\n\"Hey, you take that back!\" He yelled, slamming his fist on the table. \"Do you want to know how hard it is to find a ripe one? Sometimes you don't know the kind of people you're dealing with - you might catch the crazies if you don't broil it long enough. Besides, who else in this entire planet eats brains like we do?\"\n\n\"Zombies eat brains, Jer.\" Cal said to him, deadpan. Jerry leaned over the table to protest, but shut his mouth in exasperation and crossed his arms.\n\n\"Yeah, well can zombies cook a good meal? No, they can't. Because they are savages, that's why. Mindless savages - which is what you are starting to sound like right now.\" He grumbled a few more words under his breath.\n\nAfter a moment of silence, Cal decides to speak up. \"I'm just saying that we should have some variety in our meals, as all. It's just the same stuff with you, Jer. It wouldn't kill us to have something different every once in a while. We need something...or someone, different.\" \n\nJerry held in his breath, and let out a long sigh. He sat back in his dinner chair, putting his index finger and thumb up to his chin; gently stroking his goatee. Rays from the sun were beaming from the neglected windows of the old house they lived in unto the weathered wrinkles of his forehead. This prompted him to look out the window that revealed the humid, yet bright Summer day. That's when Jerry spotted her. \n\nA blonde woman, whom looked to be around her late 20's, was keeping a tight grip on the leash that connected to her dog's collar as she jogged. Her bright pink jumpsuit was radiant enough to catch Jerry's attention. She seemed to have been out there a little bit, as beads of sweat glistened off her forehead and seemed to be going slower than the average jogger that ran these streets. \n\n\"Who's that?\" He said, tilting his head up to her. \n\n\"That's Jennifer. She's a nutritionist from Rhode Island whom recently moved into the area not too long ago. I've talked to her before - hardcore vegetarian. She spent an entire 30 minutes into the conversation talking about a zuccini dish she made for her husband last month. No surprises there.\" \n\n\"A vegetarian, eh?\" Suddenly, an idea clicked into his brain. He stood up from his chair and looked at Cal, menacingly. \"Say, you said you would like some variety, right?\"\n\n\"Yes?\" Cal answered, questioning his motives.\n\n\"How would you like a nice salad to go with your meal?\"\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"\"It's all getting a bit much, don't you think?\"\n\nMark stood in front of the grocery aisle, looking pensive. Chris peered at him, briefly pausing at the vegetables.\n\n\"What is? We've barely bought anything.\"\n\nMark turned towards him. \"No, I mean, *us*, you know?\"\n\n\"You mean the fact that we eat people?\" Chris quipped, going back to rummaging through a selection of butternuts. \"By the way, a big one arrived at the morgue today - what do you think goes better with fat chick, butternut and feta or a basil pesto-\"\n\n\"No!\" Mark replied, gesturing to the TV in the corner of Costco. It was blaring a program about the dangers of global warming. \"The fact that we eat meat at all, Chris. All of us, any of us. Our eco-footprint is simply too much. We're destroying the planet!\"\n\nChris pondered this for a bit. \"Are you suggesting we go vegan, Mark?\" he said, chuckling.\n\nMark sighed. \"I don't know Chris, maybe. Maybe I am. Do you know how much a single cow contributes to global warming? It's insane!\"\n\n\"We're *cannibals*, Mark. Why the hell would we go vegan?\"\n\n\"I know, I know, it's just...\" Mark said, slowly lowering his head. He grabbed Chris's butternut out of his hands. \"What if we just had butternut, feta and basil pesto? What if we had *just that*? Wouldn't that be just as nice?\"\n\nChris was about to make fun of him, but he saw how much this meant to Mark. He touched the butternut as well, delicately putting his hand on top of Mark's. \"I guess... I guess that could work? I could light some candles, pour us some wine - we could make a night out of it.\"\n\nMark looked into Chris's eyes, and smiled. \"That could work.\"\n\nTheir moment was interrupted when a massive, fat man shouldered past them, knocking the butternut out of their hands. \n\n\"Out of the way, queers,\" the fat man said, glaring at them.\n\nThey watched him go. The fat man belched loudly, then turned into another aisle. \n\nChris slowly looked at Mark. \n\n\"Mark, correct me if I'm wrong, but humans contribute to global warming a whole lot more than cows, right?\" Chris said, deep in thought.\n\n\"Well, yes, almost certainly,\" Mark replied.\n\n\"And we eat people, right?\"\n\n\"But we eat dead people, Mark, that doesn't stop-\"\n\n\"Sure, we eat a shitload of people! But we're not *farming* them, right? We're not *contributing*, yea?\"\n\nMark frowned. \"I guess not.\"\n\n\"We've been eating dead people, right? Pretty much any old thing that arrives at the morgue?\"\n\n\"Well, yes...\" Mark said, unsure of where this was going.\n\n\"Well then, why don't we just start *killing* people - bad people, say, large, homophobic men for instance - and save the god damn environment while we're at it?\"\n\nMark stared at Chris. He wanted to say something, anything at all.\n\nInstead, he knelt down to the floor, picking up the fallen butternut. He looked into Chris's eyes.\n\n\"How do you think butternut, feta, basil pesto and fat guy will taste?\"\n\nChris smiled, putting his hand on Mark's shoulder.\n\n\"Fucking excellent, Mark. That's how he'll taste.\" \n\n*****\n\n*****\n\nIf you didn't completely hate that, consider subscribing to [my new subreddit.](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/) \n\nI'll try add new (and old) stories every day <3"
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[WP] In a world where some are born with powers, varying from superior vision to near invulnerability, humans have made a utopia. You, born with amazing and unique powers, are sickened by this. You're a villain.
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"I stood there poised for action, watching the team of young teens struggle to stand. \"Why are you doing this?\" One of the girls asked.\n\nI responded, \"There is no such thing as a Utopia. I am sickened by this fact. There was a reason for the Greeks to say Utopia was unattainable, and I am here to show the world that reason.\"\n\n\"You've killed innocent people!\"\n\n\"They were not innocent, child. They were charged guilty when they adopted this false dream of equality and peace. It has poisoned their minds with false hopes and achievements. Without conflict there can be no peace. WIthout chaos there can be no order.\"\n\nOne of the boys, younger than the rest stood up. \"Why can't you just accept the dream?\"\n\n\"The dream?\" I laughed, \"The dream? You are such pathetic children. The dream is to make you weak minded. To show no suspicion, for when something happens no one gives a damn.\"\n\n\"But we were able to do something,\" the girl shouted, \"isn't that enough?\"\n\n\"No!\" I screamed, \"No! You all cannot see reason. Yes there will be people who see things and act upon them, but many just sit around and do nothing. They accept the lies they've been told, they accept the unfair justice placed upon them. All the world has become is just a mass of lazy asses! Without an event, there is no change. And I will be that change.\"\n\nI let the purple flames consume me and burn towards the group of teens. \"And tonight,\" I muttered, \"'Utopia' burns.\""
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[WP] One day, a woman runs up to you, giving you a container. She warns you to never open it under any circumstance. A few days later, she shows up, suprised that you have not opened it.
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"\"Take this,\" said a female voice, \"And don't give it to anyone.\" Startled, I felt something metallic thrust into my hands. The box was small, barely the size of my fist, and warm from where the woman's own hands had held it moments before.\n\n\"You mustn't open this,\" she said. \"What's in here is not for you. Under no circumstances are you to see the contents of this box.\" She was small and dark, her features as nondescript as those of the box itself.\n\n\"Look,\" I said, \"You can't just come up to people and thrust boxes at them! Someone could have thought you were a terrorist or something!\"\n\nI thought I saw the beginning of a smirk at that comment. \"Look, just keep it on you and don't open it,\" said the woman. \"Think you can handle that?\" And she turned and walked away.\n\nWell, my first thought was that it must be some sort of social experiment, like the thing with the preschoolers and the marshmallows. I was sure as hell going to show better self control than a preschooler. When both the woman herself and the inevitable camera-weilding twenty something failed to appear, I began to doubt. Were they waiting me out, or was wrong about everything?\n\nEventually, I decided the best course of action was to head home and try to ignore the box. By carrying on with business as usual, hopefully I'd distract myself from the box and its contents long enough to forget it. Besides, it wasn't like life came to a halt because some strange woman came into your life and assaulted you with knickknacks. I thought about the Monty Python bit about watery tarts with swords and chuckled, even as my mind began to dwell on the comparison.\n\nThis whole thing was bizarre enough for a fantasy novel, wasn't it? Like, what if this was some sort of Eve-with-the-apple Pandora's box scenario and the fate of the world depended on my ability to follow instructions? I walked along content with my little fantasy scenario for a while, long enough to catch the bus home and make my way up the the elevator to my third floor apartment. I paused outside long enough to check for signs of forced entry and wonder if maybe I oughtn't to have gone about this another way - say going straight to the cops - but somehow I didn't think the woman was a criminal. Or if she *was* a criminal, that she wasn't the kind a bunch of small town cops could help with.\n\nThere was an idea; what if she was some sort of international crime ring, and accepting the package made me some sort of smuggler or something. Like a mule? What if this whole thing wasn't about self-control, but about obedience? Damn. What would the average person do if a strange woman on the street handed them a box? Open it, I thought. The only reason I hadn't opened it had been my attempt to outsmart... whoever was behind this. But what if they'd been counting on that reaction?\n\nThere was an obvious way to find out: break the rules. See what happened. But what if there really *was* something terrible in that box? What if THEY were actually good people, and they were counting on my ability to keep the lid on my own curiosity?\n\nIn the end, I decided to put the whole thing on hold while I made dinner. Because I'm a stress eater, and I needed comfort food, okay? I mean, look at the size of me! So I made dinner, and then I watched some Netflix, and then I went to bed, and tried not to worry about the possibility of SWAT teams and/or super spies infiltrating my apartment building.\n\nThe next morning, I deliberated about whether to take the box with me to work, but I remembered the woman's instructions about keeping it on me and decided to err on the side of caution. I stuck it in my purse and headed out to face the day. From there, it was surprisingly easy to ignore. You know how something always comes up and everything's always a crisis. I didn't have time to dwell on it until I went fishing for my bus pass at the end of the day. At that point, I'd stopped worrying about super spies and started wondering just what was inside. I tried shaking it, but didn't get so much as a rattle, tried weighing it, but without knowing what kind of metal the box was made of or the shape of the interior, it was impossible to tell whether the contents were heavy or light. I actually thought up an experiment using heat transfer to figure that out, but decided against it because a) I don't have the materials and b) who knows what the application of heat would do to the stuff inside?\n\nA couple of days went by like that, me dying to know what was inside the box, trying to dream up ways of knowing that didn't involve sight, but refusing to open it on principle. I'd more or less decided this was a test of patience, and while I couldn't know for sure, I'd hoped that my patience would be rewarded. Imagine my surprise when the woman appeared at my door looking more than a little exasperated and all but forced her way into my apartment.\n\n\"You didn't open it!\" she said.\n\n\"You told me not to.\"\n\n\"Yes, but I never expected you to listen. I thought you'd have that thing open the minute I turned the corner. It doesn't matter now,\" she said. \"I want it back.\"\n\n\"If I give it to you, will you tell me what's inside?\" I asked, but the woman shook her head.\n\n\"You had your chance, now give me the box. Apparently it was never meant to be yours.\"\n\nWell Hell, I couldn't let that go by. \"You know I could still open it,\" I said, trying to gauge her reaction. Decidedly disgusted, I thought.\n\n\"It's too late for all that,\" she said, \"You've already shown yourself to be utterly unsuited for the contents of the box, now be a good little lap dog and fetch it for me.\"\n\nThe worst of it wasn't the goading. It was that I *still* wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. Open it to spite the bitch seemed the most natural thing, but what if she wanted me to react that way? What if this was some last minute test of faith, to see if I'd cave at the last minute? Was this a no-win situation, or was I simply too dense to figure out the solution?\n\n\"You told me not to give it to anyone,\" I said, grasping. \"So, that includes you, right? This is part of the test, and you're trying to trick me into failing?\"\n\n\"This isn't a test,\" she said, \"And if you won't give it to me, I'm more than capable of taking it.\" As if to demonstrate her sincerity, she made for my bed on which I'd left my half-open bag. I tried to block her way, but I'm not a tall woman myself, and small as she was she was quick. Without so much as a glance of contempt, she thrust her hand inside the mouth of the bag and pulled out the small metal box. If protecting the box had been part of the test, I'd just failed.\n\n\"Fine! Jesus! Take your box, you loony.\" She was leaving. Actually leaving without so much as a \"best of luck\". \"Hey, wait! Can you tell me? Now that it's over, you can tell me right? What was in the box?\" Nothing.\n\n\"You have to tell me! It's over now, so what's in the box?\"\n\nBut she was gone, bringing her mysteries with her, and to this day I've no idea whether that was a good thing.",
"From a young age, I was taught to never accept gifts from strangers. \n\n\"Politely decline, and walk away,\" my mother told me, in that stern tone she always took when she was being very serious.\n\nFor the first twenty-odd years of my life, I held to that advice, and things went about as well as could be expected. I finished school, got a steady job and bought a house. You know... a normal life.\n\nThat all changed last week; I let you down, Mom.\n\nI was walking home from the pub, late on Friday evening, when something snagged the elbow of my jacket. I glanced over my shoulder and found myself face to face with a woman of unusually exotic appearance. Her clothes were strange - some garish, curve-hugging rags like I'd never seen before. Dark makeup streaked her face, and her ebony hair stuck up in haphazard bunches.\n\nAs my mind struggled to take in the sight before me, she pressed something into my empty hand, whispering, \"Keep it safe, and don't you dare open it.\"\n\nPuzzled, I looked down at what seemed to be a miniature lock box made of polished steel. I stared dumbly at it for a moment before looking back up, intent on returning it to her - only to find the street behind me vacant.\n\nSpinning on my heel, I looked for anywhere she might have disappeared to, but after squinting and leaning to peer down a nearby alley, I gave up the search. If she *had* bolted after passing the box to me, clearly she was too far gone to catch by that point. Sighing, I hesitated for a moment before resuming my walk home. The thought of simply abandoning the box on the sidewalk never occurred to me, but in retrospect it wouldn't have worked.\n\nThe box sat on my kitchen counter for two days before I thought of it again, as I was making breakfast Monday morning. I picked it up, held it to my ear, and gently shook it. A light rustling of cloth, I thought, but nothing weighty seemed to shift within. Shrugging, I put it back on the counter and ate my toast and eggs.\n\nWednesday evening, I stumbled through my open front door, a few beers past my normal workday limit. Drunk as I was, I knew I'd regret it the next morning. Scowling and searching for a scapegoat - some *thing* to accuse in the moment for my poor decisions, my eyes settled on the box. I rushed to the counter and picked it up, unsure what I actually intended to do with it. After a moment's deliberation, it went sailing out the door, onto my front lawn.\n\nWhen I entered the kitchen the next morning, the box was back in its perch on the counter, taunting me. I blinked and shook my head, worsening the pounding behind my temples. I deliberately chose to ignore the box as I poured a bowl of cereal.\n\nFriday night, again. Even before I unlocked my door, I could sense that something was off. Gingerly pushing the door open, I carefully peeked through the widening gap in search of whatever was eating at my nerves.\n\nThe box was gone.\n\nAstonished, I took one step inside, and then another. I laughed - first quietly, then hysterically - at its absence. \n\n*Clearly,* I thought, *I'm losing my mind.*\n\nMy laughter died abruptly as I heard an exhalation from my left and turned to face the living room. The woman I'd briefly met the week prior was lounging on my couch, slowly waving the box in the air.\n\n\"You,\" she drawled in her strange accent, \"are without a doubt the most boring individual I've ever bestowed my gift upon.\"\n\n\"Wha-\" I sputtered, taken aback at her casual intrusion into my home and unprovoked insult.\n\nShe held up a hand, capped with nails that looked more like talons, and regarded me sternly from behind thick lashes.\n\n\"Most open the box within five minutes, you know,\" she said, sitting up straight. \"Some don't even wait at all - a woman once pried it open before I'd finished speaking!\"\n\nShe smirked and leaned forward, exposing a great deal of cleavage beneath her oddly composed \"outfit\".\n\n\"Those are the funniest to watch. They truly get what they deserve, with that kind of attitude. You, though...\"\n\nShe crossed her arms and slumped back into the couch, tapping the box restlessly on her leg.\n\n\"I don't know what to make of you. Do you not have an ounce of curiosity in your body, or did you somehow know what might happen? No... It couldn't be that.\"\n\nShe regarded me thoughtfully, and after an uncomfortably long minute, I realized she was waiting for an answer.\n\n\"Well, uh-\" I murmured, quite at a loss for what to say. \n\nI didn't really have a satisfactory reason for why I'd never given thought to the box's *contents*. It just wasn't the thing to do, I supposed. Mom's long-ago lesson came back to me, then, and I smiled.\n\n\"I guess I was waiting for a chance to give it back to you, if I ever saw you again. I can't just accept a mystery box from someone I've never met before.\"\n\n\"Give it back to me?!\" she choked out between laughs, holding her stomach. \"That's not how this works! Of all the ridiculous--!\"\n\nWords seemed to desert her, and she doubled over, pounding a fist on the sofa cushion beneath her. Standing awkwardly on the other side of the room, I became aware of the cool night air chilling me through the open front door. Swinging it shut, I turned back and walked across the carpeted living room floor to stand at arm's length from the strange woman.\n\n\"Look, uh...\" I trailed off, before finding my courage and continuing. \"Will you please either explain yourself, or get out of my house?\"\n\nLooking up, she carelessly wiped away tears and makeup from her cheeks, further smearing the dark paint across her face.\n\n\"Sure,\" she managed, settling down somewhat. \"You'll get your answers.\"\n\nA manic grin still twisted her features, but her giggling fit seemed to have run its course. She gestured for me to sit in an armchair opposite the couch, and I obliged.\n\n\"This box,\" she said, holding it up for effect, \"represents opportunity. It's a little something I give to anyone who catches my eye, as a token of my appreciation.\"\n\nCocking her head, she amended, \"Well, more as joke, but the point stands.\"\n\nStill confused, I shrugged my shoulders and held up my hands in a helpless gesture. Rolling her eyes, she continued.\n\n\"Inside of this box is... Wait for it...\"\n\nShe set the box on her lap and began knocking on it with her knuckles at a fervent pace, before hefting it over her head dramatically.\n\n\"Anything you want!\"\n\nFrowning, I looked up to the box - held skyward like some mystical trophy - and then back to her jubilant expression.\n\n\"Anything? In that little box?\"\n\n\"You've got it,\" she said with a smile, clicking her tongue.\n\n\"I don't follow,\" I said flatly, wishing she would just set the box down and stop with the act. \"Could you be more specific?\"\n\nImmediately losing all showmanship and bluster, she put a hand to her face and sighed deeply.\n\n\"You're not making this easy for me. Am I really going to have to spell it out?\"\n\n\"That would probably be best,\" I answered calmly, hopeful that some sense was about to emerge from her madness.\n\n\"The box,\" she hissed between her fingers, \"grants a wish to whoever opens it. The outcome of which is usually very, hysterically ironic.\"\n\nForking her fingers, she peered at me with cat-like eyes, gauging my reaction. Rubbing my chin with a hand, I stared thoughtfully back, choosing my next words carefully.\n\n\"So that's what's got you so annoyed you broke into my house,\" I said at last. \"I ruined your joke.\"\n\n\"Yes, you did,\" she said wearily, sinking deeper into the couch. \"And nothing ruins a good joke like explaining the punchline.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, I guess,\" I murmured, not sure whether I meant it.\n\n\"Ugh!\" she groaned, \"Don't apologize! You're just making it worse.\"\n\n\"Sorry,\" I said with a shrug.\n\nGrabbing a pillow, she held it to her face and collapsed to the side. Inwardly, I cringed at the black splotches she'd leave behind, and wondered what it would take to get them out.\n\n\"Look,\" her muffled voice drifted out from beneath the pillow. \"There's one thing we can do to make this right.\"\n\n\"You can leave my house and we'll never speak of this again?\" I asked hopefully.\n\n\"No, Stupid,\" she said, rolling her head to look at me.\n\nSitting back up, she grabbed the box and held it out between us.\n\n\"I'll offer you the box again, and this time you take it and open it. It'll be like this whole conversation never happened! I'll laugh, you'll be covered in bee stings or something - it'll be great!\"\n\n\"Doesn't sound like much of a deal for me,\" I muttered in annoyance. \"Besides, I already told you I don't take gifts from strangers.\"\n\nSighing with even more force than I'd thought possible, she stuck out a hand in my direction.\n\n\"My name's Loxala, djinn of immense power and undisputed grandmaster of pranking mortals for over ten thousand years. Pleased to meet you!\"\n\nI hesitated to take her hand, but she shook it vigorously, and I finally relented and took it in my own. Her skin was hot to the touch, but not unpleasant. After shaking it for several seconds, she withdrew it and held out the box one last time.\n\n\"Okay, okay. We're fast friends now,\" she said urgently. \"Now, will you PLEASE take the box?\"\n\nPouting my lips, I pretended to consider for a moment before taking a firm hold of the other end of the container.\n\n\"Sure thing, Lox.\"\n\n\"That's not-\" she began, annoyed.\n\n\"Now, um,\" I interrupted, turning the box end over end. \"How exactly does this work?\"\n\n\"It's a box,\" she said, flatly. \"You open it like literally any other box you've opened in your life.\"\n\n\"Ah, there's the latch,\" I murmured, flipping it open.\n\nThere were no explosions, or sudden swarms of insects, though I tensed a little just in case. Loxala looked around - curiously at first, and then with increasing disappointment.\n\n\"Well, what did you wish for? Where's the twist?\"\n\n\"Honestly, I just want life to be more interesting,\" I said nonchalantly. \"And this last week has been pretty wild.\"\n\n\"You can't mean...\" she trailed off, looking worried.\n\n\"Yep,\" I grinned. \"I want you.\"\n\nAfter a pause, she murmured, \"Wow. That is ironic.\"",
"I was looking at the oddly shaped wooden box. It had nice engravings, and was finely detailed. Quite pleasant to look at, all things considered.\n\nI had received it nearly a week ago, from a strange woman. While I could not for the life of me remember anything about how she looked, I remembered her voice. Crystal clear, and trembling with trepidation.\n\n\"Do **not** open that box. Ever. No. Matter. What.\"\n\nAnd with that she had vanished, and I was standing in the middle of the street with a box in my hands, and a confused expression on my face.\n\nReturning home, I had placed it on the fireplace, and practically forgotten about it for the next 4 days. And that brings me to today.\n\nI had nothing to do all day, so I resolved to finally clean up a bit. And of course that involved cleaning the fireplace and coming face-to-wood with the mysterious container. Placing a hand on it I mused over the thought of opening it. But after a minute or two, thought against it.\n\nSomething about the lady's voice had latched on to me in relation to the box. She had sounded scared. Fearful of the contents. Anxious.\n\n\n***KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.***\n\n\nThe sudden knock snapped me out of my musings, and I headed for the door. Upon opening it, I was greeted by a stunning being, of practically inhuman beauty. The woman at my door had long, flowing hair that seemed to shift between auburn and deep brown. Her face of smooth, delicate contours, with an air of mystery to them. And her large eyes were the deepest blue, I'd ever seen.\n\nStunned, I could do nothing but stare.\n\n\"Hey! I'm Anesidora... the girl, who gave you the box. Remember me?\" Her melodic, clear voice rang out and drew me back to reality.\n\nStill unable to say a word, I nodded, with a polite smile. Her name however struck me as odd.\n\n\"Great! So uh... can I have it back?\"\n\nRegaining my ability to speak, I said yes, and invited her in. Leaving the woman by the door, I fetched the box, and brought it back to her.\n\nShe snatched it from my hands a bit too hastily, and ran her fingers over the engravings. I thought I saw her smirk triumphantly, but it vanished, when she touched the latch.\n\n\"You *didn't* open it...\"\n\nOddly it sounded like a disappointed statement, rather than a question. I told her that I had thought about it, but since she herself had told me not to, I refrained from it.\n\n\"But weren't you even a bit curious? Not even to take a small peek?\"\n\nI answered that I simply had forgotten about the box, until today.\n\n\"Oh... I see...\"\n\nShe undid the latch and opened the box herself.\n\nAnd then I remembered - Anesidora. She, who sends gifts from below.",
"It was another muggy summer evening in Louisiana, which meant that Houston was slapping bugs all along his walk home. He felt one of those suckers bite his neck, and he gave it a quick slap while cursing the surrounding swamp lands. \n\nSuddenly, he heard what sounded like a door being kicked open behind him, and the steady thumping of feet pounding sidewalk. A harried looking woman caught up to him, and blocked his path.\n\n\"Sir,\" she said, panting. \"It is of the utmost importance that you hold on to this vial. Keep it secret. Under no circumstances should you open it.\" With that, she thrust a vial filled with a black liquid into Houston's hand, then took off running back the direction she came from. \n\nHouston tucked the vial into his pocket along with his keys and cellphone, and continued walking home, slapping bugs all along the way. \n\nThree days later, Houston was taking the same walk home, that walk being his daily route home from work. And, just like he had for the past several nights, he was busy slapping bugs. When he'd reached about the same point in his walk that he reached three days ago, he heard the same sound of a door being kicked open, followed by running feet. The same woman came into view.\n\n\"Do you still have it?\"\n\n\"Do I have what, ma'am?\" Houston replied in his usual, slow drawl.\n\n\"The vial I gave you, do you have it?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes ma'am. I've got it right here.\" Houston dug into his pocket and produced the vial, still full of black liquid, its stopper untouched.\n\nHer eyes widened at the sight of it. \"You didn't open it, did you?\"\n\n\"No ma'am.\"\n\n\"Weren't you even the least bit curious about what this is, or why I gave it to you?\"\n\nHouston thought about that for a moment. \"No ma'am, I can't say that I was.\" He slapped another bug.\n\nAn evil grin worked its way across the woman's face. \"Then it worked. Congratulations, sir, you have successfully been the first victim of my Curiosity Ray.\"\n\n\"That's nice ma'am.\"\n\n\"Yes, I see that it works all too well. My invention hits the victim with a ray that drains him of all curiosity. Now I'll be able to stop anyone from asking any questions as I take over the world!\"\n\nHouston nodded along with her. \"That sounds like it'd be awful nice ma'am, but I'm not sure your invention worked.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Well, Momma used to say my mind was like a hamster that fell off the wheel. Then it ate itself to death. Momma always had a way with words.\"\n\n\"So you're telling me you've always been like this?\"\n\n\"Afraid so, ma'am.\"\n\n\"You useless fucking idiot! God damn you! That's it, get inside, I need to run more tests on you.\"\n\nA bug landed on the woman's face. Houston slapped it. A bit harder than he meant to, apparently, because the woman toppled over sideways. She fell pretty funny, and her head hit the corner of the sidewalk. Burst open like an overripe cantaloupe. She made a horrible gurgling sound, but went limp pretty quickly.\n\n\"Are you alright ma'am?\" Houston asked. He didn't hear a response. He stooped down and picked up the vial. \"Don't worry, I'll keep it safe ma'am, just like you asked me to.\"\n\nHouston stepped over the body and continued on his walk home, slapping bugs along the way. \n\n*****\n\nRead more of my prompt responses by subscribing to [Pubby's Creative Workshop](https://www.reddit.com/r/Pubby88)."
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[WP] You're a super hero. Your power? The power of mildly inconveniencing your enemies.
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"There are many good people in this city. But there are also many bad people. Robbers and thieves and murderers.\nSome people try and stand up to them, but they usually end up getting hurt . But not me. You see, when I was a child, I was given an incredible superpower. I can stop any criminal and prevent any crime.\n\nMy name? Mildly Inconvenient Man!\n\nWould a criminal try to rob a shop if he suddenly realised that his shoes weren't tied up? Of course not! What kind of self-respecting thief robs a store without properly laced shoes? The very idea! It's preposterous!\nOr a murderer who forgets his favourite knife? Do you think that he would use some second-rate cutting utensil to slice open his victims? Where's the fun in that?\nOr if someone's getaway car became caught behind a particularly cautious driver on a single lane street? They'd just give up. No point in continuing after that. What's the point?\n\nMy origin story is fairly atypical for a super hero. I wasn't bitten by a spider, or born on a different world. I'm not incredibly rich. I became this legendary figure simply by being myself! It seems, that naturally, I'm so clumsy and useless, that the only way I can contribute to society is by trying not to. After a while of accidentally preventing murders and robberies, I decided that my calling in life was to simply irritate and inconvenience as many people as possible.\n\nIt may be a lonely job, but I am the only person who is capable enough to protect this great city.",
"Darkmanor was destroying League of Awesomenauts. Usually they could wipe the floor with him but this time his newest armor was able to withstand Sunflower's light blazes without a sweat, while bashing Hammer of Justice head on the nearby building. Luckily for Hammer he could survive that but it didn't look to great for the team.\n\nOnly left one fighting, Cougar Punch, was franticaly jumping and trying to land the hit. His famous skill to focus kinetic energy in one spot was great againts hard-ass armors and tough skin monsters - as long as he could connect.\n\nUsually Statis was keeping them in check for him, but Darmanor, having lost to them so many times, knew who to get rid of first. Now he was laughing (maniacally of course), while easily avoind Cougar Punch who desperately tried to at least brush him. How Darkmanor could be on pair with Cougar while throwing Hammer around was beyond me.\n\nWell, he made one mistake. He messed up my date. I was finally able to match with someone, have nice chat and set up a date, and now this ass is ruining it. Girl run away some time, so I could reveal my powers without fear of her noticing.\n\nI focus myself on Darkmanor, keeping him in my eyes, waiting for this perfect moment... Waiting.. Cougar just tried to double kick him, landed on his hands and instantly rolled behind him to try and upper cut him. There! I snap my inner fingers.\n\nDarkmanor freezes for a split second but that's enough for Cougar Punch. He lands the perfect blow, exploding the armor into tiny pieces flying everywhere, drags surprised Darkmanor from inside and locks him down. Over the noise I can hear pieces of their conversation\n\n- Dude... happened? you .... winning\n\n- I... sneezed\n\nI walk back home, satisfied, unknown."
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[WP] You are walking down the street when suddenly a bus runs into the alley. You are conscious that you can save all those people , but that would mean "they" would have finally found you , still you do it anyway.
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"It was the wind that made me do it. \n\nThe cold is something I always prepare for but the wind is another beast. I was bundled up of course, with a beanie, AC/DC sweatshirt and a pair of faded jeans, but the wind cut straight through me. It was making me shiver and shake as I made the thirty minute walk home. The gentle rumble of the engine as the vehicle turned on to the street behind me gave me a little start. Turning, I relaxed a bit recognizing the outline and yellow words scrolling on the top of one of the cities transport busses. I usually try and avoid all public transportation because the less human interaction I have the better and because humans always smelled... Wrong.\n\nIt was the wind that made me do it. \n\nI was still tossing the idea of making my 30 minute trek into a shorter 10 minute ride when the bus passed me. Right then a gust of wind cut through me, as if to remind me it was there. \"Hey! Stop!\" I yelled as I ran to catch up to the bus. It wasn't moving very fast and I caught up to the back pretty quickly. I banged on the bus with a closed fist and was relieved to see the red brake lights flash. When I stood in front of the door the driver opened it so I could step in. \n\n\"That'll be $3.75 fella,\" a rough voice said \"and an extra .25¢ for making me stop somewhere I'm not supposed to.\" The bus driver was an older man sitting behind a plastic window. He had his wrinkled blue button shirt with a crooked name tag pinned to his left chest. He had the stench of cigarettes all over him, I could smell it through the plastic. Looking at him I could see which one of the seven deadly sins he had most recently committed. Lust. \n\n\"Thanks for actually stopping. The wind out there is killer.\" Handing him a $5 bill and getting my quarter with the bus ticket I made me way through the bus to a seat. It was mostly emptied. A young man in ripped jeans and some headphones blasting music in his ears sat toward the front of the bus. Sloth. There was an elderly lady a couple seats behind him with thin short hair. Envy. The only other two humans on the bus was a young woman and a little girl. Probably the woman's daughter. Pride was the woman's sin. I moved past them and sat a couple seats past them. The little girl had no sin on her. Which was a strange feeling because even children feel things like envy and gluttony. The girl was staring at me intensely. It made me uncomfortable but I tried not to show it and looked out the window. The city was quiet. We sped by and before I knew it my stop was next. I stood up so the bus driver knew to stop at the next drop off location. \n\n\"Happy Holidays\" The little girl said as I walked by her to get off. I looked at her and gave her a weak smile. \n\n\"Happy Holidays little one\" I replied as I kept moving. The cold and wind hit me like a slap in the face when I exited. I was only a short walk from my house so I put my hood up and tucked my head into the wind, walking in long, quick strides. The bus started along the road again. As soon as I turned the corner is when I heard the crash. A resounding boom and the crunching of metal. I raced around the corner, my eyes wide, as I saw the wreckage. The bus had veered off the road and hit the opening of an alley at an angle. It was smoking and probably about to catch fire. The little girls face flashed in my head. It's innocence and her eyes staring at me. I started running toward the bus before I thought it through. I had to save her. I had to save the girl. And if I was going to save her, I would save them all. It would mean the end of my time in this city. I had hidden from the hunters for 7 years now, I could do it again. When I got close to the bus, I slowed down. The fire had started around the engine. It wouldn't be long before it blew. I closed my eyes and focused. I hadn't done this in a long time. Concentrating hard I brought the energy back up, drawing on Heavens well of power. My ethereal wings sprouted out my back and my skin started glowing. I would save them. I would save her. I continued to the bus. \n\nIt was the wind that made me do it. "
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[WP] One day, your mirror reflection disappears... and the mirror doesn't feel as solid as it did before... almost... like water...
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"The alarm blared.\nI rolled out of bed, and turned it off. I sat up, bed hair sticking up. I rubbed my eyes, and stretched, my arms reaching up like giraffe necks. I stood up, and yawned.\n\"Time to start a new day,\" I said to myself, walking into the bathroom to empty the tanks.\nWhile washing my hands, I glanced up. The mirror seemed particularly dirty today, almost like it had fogged over. I blinked and rubbed my eyes. The mirror remained blurry. It was like looking through someone else's glasses.\n\nI shrugged, and went to make some breakfast. I ate quickly, anxious to get to work. It was an good job, and I enjoyed what I did. I was a digital artist, and my specialty was taking photos and inverting the colours to create a whole new image. It was a fairly complicated task that I had learned in high school, but still found interesting nearly ten years later.\n\nI headed to the bathroom once again for a shower. I had just taken my shirt off, when I noticed something peculiar. The mirror had fogged over completely, like someone had just finished a hot shower. I took a step forwards, and then another. I reached to rub some of the condensation off, and as I did so, saw my hand disappear. I pulled it back quickly. The surface of the mirror rippled, and then became smooth, but still foggy.\n\nCuriosity getting the better of me, I reached forward again, sticking my whole forearm in. I tried to pull back, but I couldn't. I felt a cold hand grasp my own, and I froze in fear. The hand was as cold as ice, like stepping from a warm house to a winter night. I felt myself pulled forwards, and I fell into the mirror. \n\nI landed, my feet slapping against tile. This new room, where I now found myself, was identical to my own bathroom in every detail, except for one. It was the reverse, the mirror image of my 'real' bathroom.\nI had barely a second to observe this fact, before a mirror image of me was attacking. He was exactly the same, except inverted, like the bathroom itself. He jabbed and hooked and kicked, and I did my best to defend and retaliate.\n\nIt was an epic battle. I, and therefore he, had had training in three different martial arts. We fought like we were fighting for our lives, which I guess we were. After several minutes, neither of us could get the upper hand. Chests glistening with sweat. I soon started to tire. I felt my punches become weaker, my blocks less effective. I noticed that my reflection was also tiring, but not as rapidly as I was. I became concerned, and my concentration lapsed, only for a moment. But it was enough. The reflection, the anti-me, moved with the lightning precision of a cobra, delivering a straight, solid fist right into my jaw. I felt my head go back, and I saw stars. I collapsed onto the floor, where I was kicked and pummelled until I couldn't feel anything. I curled into the foetal position, and passed out.\n\nI woke up bruised and bloodied. The room looked like my bathroom, but the door looked odd. I walked towards it, and was stopped, like there was an invisible force field. I glanced at the mirror, and noticed it was clear once again. I saw my reflection moving about, in sync with mine. He turned and smiled an evil smile, and I felt my own mouth doing the same. I screamed internally, as I felt myself walk towards the door, trying to fight as I went. But I couldn't. I watched him disappear, and felt myself freeze, unable to move.\n\nNow I'm stuck here. Trapped, forever, mimicking the actions of my reflection. There is never going to be an escape.\n\nI would really appreciate any feedback you may have!"
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[WP] I live alone. It's time for sleep, as I approach my bed, I see someone sleeping in my bed. As I look closer, the person looks just like me....
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"\"It's happening again, isn't it?\"\n\nMy words fell on sleeping ears. Or deaf ears, really. Without me inside that meat shell, there really wasn't anyone to listen.\n\nI looked down at my hands, seeing them but knowing they weren't there. Not really. Part of my mind, a bit that fled my body along with my consciousness, was filling in the gaps to keep me sane. If I looked hard enough, I would see through the illusion; twenty years of lines, scars, and callouses would fade from my hand and then my hand shortly after, until all I could make out were the floor boards of my grandmother's house.\n\nThis was why I couldn't leave home. It was why I couldn't go to college. It was why I couldn't get a job further than a bike ride away, and why two girlfriends had abandoned me in five years. The first too scared to put it into words, she ghosted me.\n\nGhosted. I love that term.\n\nThe second girl... Well, before falling asleep, we had sex for the first time and her smile was sweet, endearing, and in a way, forgiving of my lack of experience. She had guided me through the process without even asking if I was a virgin. But then when she woke next to my cold body, my disembodied self standing in the corner of the room watching, she did things to me. Well, to my shell, but the rest of me was forced to watch, powerless to intervene. I didn't expect that to be as traumatic as it was. When I confronted her about it, she said she figured I was faking sleep and letting her do whatever she wanted. I asked her if she understood how consent works. She got offended, accusing me of accusing her of raping me. That breakup didn't go *well*, but she never learned why I wasn't responsive. I was too ashamed to explain.\n\nI should go back before that, to the beginning, when I was just learning.\n\nI was a late bloomer. Puberty kicked in at eleven and a half, and by age twelve, I had my first out of body experience. At first I thought it was a dream, so I wandered the house, I roamed the yard, and wandered the neighborhood all night long, peeking in windows and going places I never would in the flesh. It was my dream after all, so why shouldn't I sate my curiosity? Because I wandered through bedrooms belonging to two girls I barely knew, seeing things I shouldn't have seen. Finally, I intruded on someone's most intimate moments, a series of sighs and clenched thighs, believing she was a figment. It lit my hormonal adolescent mind on fire.\n\nWhen I woke the next day, I had a realization: I didn't know what those places looked like, so how could I even imagine them? And what happened to me? I told my grandmother and her face paled, eyes shifting away from me to the floor. She couldn't talk about it at first, and her fear fed mine, causing a panic attack. If it was bad enough she couldn't say, I couldn't even begin to process how bad it must be. She was my anchor, the one who helped me know right and wrong. I didn't tell her how far I wandered for fear she would condemn me.\n\nIt didn't happen again for weeks, and I would spend a whole night trapped in my room, unable to leave for some reason, and going stir crazy. The next day my grandmother sat me down and in her way, tried to talk about it. Not a lot of information went back and forth, but she admitted that her father had a similar experience. After a childhood accident when he nearly died, it began. He called it the Sleeping Sickness, and she once overheard him speak to her mother about the danger of staying away from his body too long. He called it the Fading.\n\nI didn't experience the Fading until my fifteenth year. A friend from school was having a sleepover. Yes, at fifteen that sounds a bit... well, little kid, but I had never been to one and it promised a night of caffeine and videogames. I begged my grandmother, but she said no. What if I slipped free? But I explained that with games and sugar, there was no way. I would come home and sleep in the morning. I begged, and I begged... and she gave in.\n\nShortly after midnight, I was the last awake, playing Super Mario World and recklessly binging on can after can of soda. But it wasn't working. I was drifting asleep just sitting up. Flickers of television light interspersed with frames of dreams, back and forth, swaying side to side... until I fell right out of myself.\n\nI panicked. It was exactly what I promised I wouldn't do. Then against all better thoughts, I went for a walk. Why? I don't know. It was instinct. I felt like I... should be flying, I suppose. I should be away from there, somewhere, doing something. As I drifted through the tangled mess of teenage limbs, I felt them stir, groans echoing in the basement room where we were setup to sleep. One pulled up a blanket. I suppose he was cold.\n\nWhen I made it outside, I felt a tremendous anxiety slip away from me. Like a rope of stones sliding free of me neck. I looked up at the stars and I felt jubilant. That's another of those words I like, jubilant, it just sounds fun, doesn't it? That night I didn't really walk so much as soar.\n\nI threw myself into the sky, racing away from the ground with all I had, a reverse shooting star. I passed through clouds, dodging crackles of lightning, and rose above them, to look down. Herds of fluffy sheep drifting past, merging with other herds, or breaking up as strays fled away alone. Like me, some of the clouds just would not stick together. They needed more.\n\nI looked up to the skies, marveled at the stars. When awake, they were faded pinpricks, but in my other form, my playful ghost, they were bright. They were clear. I could hear them calling out to me, as if inviting me home. Twinkles like waving hands in the air, calling me outside through the window. They tugged and dragged at me, and I feared it. I shot down beneath the clouds again, ranging out over the city lights, tracing roadways to see how far I could fly. If I was in that form anyway, I wanted to know. I had never been that far from home.\n\nI covered miles and miles. I don't know how far it was I went, really, but I passed from one city to the next, chasing lines of sodium light along the highways, until I reached a massive city. But try as I might, I could not read the signs. I drifted near people, trying to listen, but I could not understand their words. Only snatches and fragments, a series of broken, distorted sounds. I drifted through walls, seeing how the big city people lived, and witnesses more of what I should not have seen. Violence, abuse, and fear, in equal measure to peaceful sleeping faces.\n\nIt was tiring. So I turned, I would go back the way I came.\n\nI wasn't entirely sure of how I got to where I was, but I had a fleeting feeling inside me. A vague notion of where my body was... So I raced back toward it as the sun was rising over the ocean. It creeped higher as I drifted from city to city, town to town, until I reached what I believed to be my point of origin. By this time I noticed the light passing through my hands, and felt intensely tired. I was drifting downward unless I focused, and I feared I was Fading after all.\n\nWhen I broke through the basement wall, into the still air of the sleeping gamers, I was shocked to see my body was gone. In its place were a group of pale, scared looking boys talking in whispers. I knew deep inside that I had been wrong, my body had moved. I chased that sensation all the way to the hospital.\n\nWhen I passed through the window closest to where I felt my shell should be, I found my grandmother crying, clutching my hand as she hovered at the edge of my bed. My body was... pale. Drained? Barely alive. As I entered it, it felt like... thin tissue tearing all around me. Like stepping on a spent hornet's nest, a crunch and crackle. Then I drew in a long breath.\n\nAccording to the doctor who rushed in to see me as I woke, I had almost died in the night. They fussed over me for three days while my grandmother stayed silent in the background. The diagnosis was that I have a sort of adolescent sleep disturbance condition. They believed that when I slept, at times, my nervous system would start to slowly shut down in the way that an alcoholic might after too much liquor, or someone with a massive head trauma to the part that controls the heart, lungs, and other organs.\n\nThey believed that for hours, I was near death. They hoped it was a side-effect of an irregular puberty. Then came hormone therapies, regular appointments, and special pills that would not let me drift into a truly deep sleep. The rare times it happened again, I stayed near my body, as I had the nights when the girls woke to my chill body and panicked. Once I think from drinking, the other from forgetting my sleeping pill.\n\nBy age eighteen, I didn't drift free of my body anymore. The doctors took me off the medication and said to come to them if anything changed. That I was past the worst of it. More time, and it seemed I was still fine.\n\nA week before my twentieth birthday, my grandmother died. I had not slept since she went to bed and did not wake up. I was a bundle of nerves and rage. Not at anything in particular, just... anger at the world, I guess. I grieved myself stupid with anger. Until finally, I raged into exhaustion.\n\nSo I find myself standing there again.\n\nAgain.\n\nOnly this time, my words don't fall on deaf ears. From behind me in the doorway, I hear a familiar sound. I turn, drifting on the air, and see my grandmother standing there in her nightgown.\n\n\"It's happened, hasn't it?\" She said. \"This must be what it was like for my father.\"\n\nI bowed my head, unable to cry, although I wanted to.\n\n\"I'm lost.\" She said, face contorted with confusion and fear. Like a child.\n\nI held out my hand to her, glancing toward the window and the clear night sky. I thought of the clouds and the stars, of the pulling, dragging feeling. Of what it meant to be truly tired.\n\n\"Here, take my hand.\" I whispered. \"I know the way.\""
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[WP] The tomb of King Tutankhamen has just been located on the southern hemisphere of Mars...
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"\"I swear I've been here before. Hey, Jonesy! C'mere!\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"This place look familiar to you?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"I knew it, this has to be the tomb of King Tut. Remember when we were there in '63? It's the exact same. Remember? That's where Rebecca and I...\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Umm, what was I saying? Oh! Who the hell built this place? Did you do this Jonesy? Is this where you've been spending all your time?\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"I have to admit, it's nice to see a small piece of home all the way out here. Still, we have to save our energy. We only have so many rations left. Try to keep it simple from now on, yeah?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Good. Speaking of rations, I plan on taking some of yours tonight. I've been practicing my poker face.\"\n\n*Hmph* \"Yeah.\"\n\n\"This really is amazing work, though. Where did you lear... Jonesy? Jonesy! Where'd you go? You ousti... nope. Jonesy! JONESY! **JONESY!** Ahh!\"\n\n***\n\n\"Shh, it's okay. You were talking in your sleep.\"\n\n\"Wha... Rebecca? How are you...? I thought...\"\n\n\"You thought what, sweetie?\"\n\n\"I was on Mars, and Jonesy was there, and King Tut's tomb, and rations, and, and...\"\n\n\"And what?\"\n\n\"You were... it doesn't matter. I'm just glad you're still here.\"\n\n\"Of course, sweetie. We're always here. Why don't you get up? Come on, I'll fix you some breakfast. You really should *eat something* before your big day, but you have to ***get up*** first. Get up. Up! UP! *UP!* **UP!** ***UP!*** ***UP!*** ***UP!***\"\n\n***\n\n\"Good morning, ma'am. It's time for your morning rations.\"\n\n\"Rebecca?\"\n\n\"Ma'am?\"\n\n\"Never mind, wrong one.\"\n\n\"You seem distressed ma'am, would you like me to initiate companion mode?\"\n\n\"No, Rebecca, I'll be fine. Would you please get me my gun?\"\n\n\"I believe we only have on round left ma'am. Hardly enough for target practice.\"\n\n\"That's fine, I only need one anyways.\""
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[WP] An old man suffering from alzheimers and alcoholism reminisces about his dead wife. He slowly begins to realise he was the one who killed her
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" These moments of hazy confusion are getting more frequent. It feels like it only started days ago, but then I get these moments of clarity and I realize to my dismay that it's has been years. \n Everyone I once loved has forgotten about me. My children, my siblings, my friends. Even my beautiful wife, with her smile that could outshine the sun! It seems I can only fully remember her when I drink the thing she left me for in the first place. I hate the taste I always have, the whiskey never stops burning, but I can't stop not now. Not with what I'm doing I want to remember her during my last hour. This blasted drink is the only way. \n We would always walk the levee together hand in hand, even as we got older and she couldn't walk as good anymore. I would still push her wheelchair up that levee. Even then I was happy to do it, she was my everything and I wanted to show her off to the world. She had this way about her that would put everyone at ease. I remember our first kiss, we were just kids barely seventeen. It was the second saddest day of my life, I was getting deployed being shipped off to God know where, but she understood she lost her older brother, my best friend when the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor. I took her to our favorite reading creek, where we would sit for hours under the big White Oak. It was there I told her I loved her, she just kissed me didn't say it back. Just grabbed my face and kissed me, but that kiss said more to me than her words ever could. \n I left for the Army the next day, thought of her every day. She was my strength, she was my courage as I ran up the beaches of Normandy. I had to see her again. Bodies of my brothers falling all around me, but I didn't stop I couldn't stop. I made it to that first bunker threw my grenade into the gun slit. The next 4 seconds of my life were the longest I've ever waited. I had my buddy behind me and when it went off we ran in and they were dead except one. He had a pistol and shot my buddy in the leg, I shot his in his head and he dropped another grenade he was holding, before I could react my buddy jumped on it. I felt a sharp pain in so many parts of my body. I fell back covered with the blood of my friend and I died. Or so I thought when I came to I was in a room with people screaming in agony. I was covered in what looked like dirty bandages. That was my service. Through it all I thought of her. Of my Grace and how she will be in my arms again. I was shipped home 3 months later and I went first to her house. She cried when she saw me, made her eyes so much bluer and I just kissed her. We married 4 months later I was happy. Until the nightmares, I would wake up screaming in terror. Sometimes wake up choking the love of my life.\n It was then I discovered that I was shell shocked. I would have the outbursts of anger and sometimes think I was back on those damn beaches. I know It hurt Grace to see me that way. So I turned to the bottle. It numbed the pain, but hurt Grace every time. I worked then came home and drank. We made it work. I know I loved her we had two kids a little girl named Ava, and a boy named Beaux. The my were beautiful but it took a toll on Grace. She was tired all the time. We was already wearing thin when she turned forty. By that time that came up with a fancy term for what I had. Something called PTSD, and of course the drinking problem, but I thought myself strong. I needed no help I was a man.\n Grace started getting sick and forgetful. She even forgot about me, and our kids, but I took care of her. I loved her, but we would fight a lot as we got older about her just forgetting about me. Did she not love me?\n I haven't seen her in years I think. I can never remember the last day. It's only now that I see my end that everything in clear again. Looking my gun over I still see the blood stains. It was our biggest fight. I came home drunk and she was in her chair with my gun beside her. I said I loved her and she didn't say anything she just looked at me confused. I screamed and yelled. I punched and broke stuff and I heard her sobbing. She said she was sorry but she can't see me like this anymore. She shot herself right in front of me and I forgot? Did I not love her? I'm tired of my life I'm going to meet her again and tell her I love her. Let me put the bullet in.\n Damn my memory is getting fuzzy again, and I'm out of whiskey. \nHuh?\n Where am I.\n Is this a creek?\nWhy am I under this white oak?"
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[WP] It is discovered that gods are no more than parasites that leech off of worship and faith while the demons want to free us from those parasites and lead us along to prosperity
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"The strain on his back staggered him down as he sat up. Many grasping fingers and arms pulled him down to the bed and vanished as the man sat up once more this time unavailed. A long yawn spilled out of his mouth as his eyes watered with his exhaustion and apathy. His tired squinted eyes peeled into aggitated plates shoting around the room. \"Red\" he thought as his agitation turned to shock. He was sitting upright in the middle of a bed, resting in the atrium of five hallways. The hallways extended from this section in a star pattern; wide at the entrance but gradually got narrower towards the end. The atrium itself was a bright red on all sides save the bed he was sitting upon which was a faded yellowish white. He looked down and noticed that he was wearing the clothes he fell asleep in, a stained tank top with a rip in the collar. He was also on the same delipatated mattress and frame he got from goodwill. With a deep breath intermitted by a shallow burp his neck twisted his vision around so fast he got whip lash. His wandering gaze became fixed on the hallway directly to his right, though he didn't know what prompted this seemingly desperate action, he peered down the narrowing hallway. His heart raged and then faultered with a clinching chill. \"A door!?",
"2 disclaimers : \n*1st : English is not my mother tongue, there will be mistakes. Sorry about that*\n\n\n\n\"So, you just rose from your tomb, eh?\"\n\nThe bald man grinned.\n\n\"You're not quite Undead. You're something else entirely. I recognize that faded spark in your eyes. You failed in your previous life, and now you must rise once more. What a fate.\"\n\nHe took his lance and used it to stand up.\n\n\"Poor thing. Now, of all times, you are needed. Everything is dead, and the few still fighting will soon be consumed. If I were merciful, I'd probably kill you here, but what would be the point ? You'd just come back and take revenge. But I am not like you. I cannot come back.\"\n\nHe stopped grinning.\n\n\"I'm concerned. Look at you. Do you really think you can kill Them dressed like that ? And with what, a club ? You'll get murdered, again and again. I guess you got killed at least a dozen times while trying to get there.\"\n\nHe looked at the beggar standing in front of him.\n\n\"What's your name ?\"\n\nNo response.\n\n\"Where are you from ? What was your duty ?\"\n\nSilence.\n\nHe sighed.\n\n\"Not the talkative type, eh ? Usually, I appreciate that, I like my customers better when they don't ramble. But you're no customer. You're just stranded there. You don't know a thing. You don't even know who -or what- you are. And here I am, talking and mumbling to a beggar whose task is to burn this world down.\"\n\nEven though he seemed bored by the unilateral conversation, his eyes were sparkling.\n\n\"Right. I'll give you these informations for free. The next time we meet, make sure you can at least buy a dagger. This world is dying. Not dead yet, but dying nonetheless. Nothing makes sense anymore. Lost kingdoms rise from the ground, crippled princes take their swords to war, the Undead seek absolution and the demons are scattered. And in the center of all that, there's you. Naked, triumphant, stupidly confident. You took on the damned Judge with a wooden club, and since you're there, that can only mean that he allowed you to pass.\n\nBut that's not all. You see these thrones, below us ? They belong to beings of immense power. People that burned so brightly that they allowed the order of the gods to linger until this very day. That was the goal they sought, but now they changed their minds. All thanks to a sickly child who couldn't bear his duty. And now, you rose. You will have to hunt and put down these beings, these tremendous lords, just to let the world linger a bit more. You will die countless times, you will suffer, you will be alone. And in the end, you will be forgotten.\"\n\nHe stretched his arms and legs, and went on :\n\n\"But maybe, just maybe, you won't do that. You may just let it all die. You might let this world rot and decay, and rule over it. You are not the strongest, nor the best warrior. You sure don't seem the be the brightest either. But you have one thing for yourself. You are free from the gods. This is the meaning of the ugly mark that you bear. You have the potential to either save this world, or destroy it.\"\n\nHe tried to pass his hands in his hair, momentarily forgetting his baldness. Then, he started smiling again.\n\n\"I won't tell you what to do. But I can give you two names. A woman's that you need to meet, so you can choose your fate. And mine, because you sat through my rambles quite stoicly.\"\n\nHe took the shield that he had let behind him, and his hands grasped firmly the handle of his lance.\n\n\"I'm Patches. The Hyena. The next time we meet, You'll buy something from me.\"\n\n*2nd disclaimer : I hope that I didn't fuck up the prompt by putting it in the DkS Universe. I thought it'd be interesting to have the Gods be.. well, Gods, and the \"demons\" be the Unkindled*",
"Once, at the furthest reach of history where the world was but one empire, a religion was born, and a human ascended to godhood.\n\nUsing the words of gods as justification, the kings committed numerous unspeakable atrocities, wishing to reach the same feat that the first god was able to complete on his own. But a traitor, an enemy so sly they immortalized as a serpent in numerous future iteration of the empire, stole the technique the kings has spent all their lives to acquire.\n\nGilgamesh failed to become a god, but in exchange he had become ever wiser than the gods themselves.\n\nHe decided that the gods are imperfect beings, ones who traded their own body and names in exchange for power. As they have no names that the World could refer to, they were forced to create a name for themselves, requiring perpetuation of said name to force the World to remember them.\n\nIn a way, worshiping a god is like tricking the World into thinking that they were exist.\n\nBut these trickery is not without price. In exchange of perpetuating the existence of these gods, existence that should not exist, the World leech out the existence of the worshiper, in order to make up the flawed logic of the gods.\n\nAnd so Gilgamesh decided to rebel against them, creating an equally flawed existence that would later be referred collectively as Demons, a \"name\" and \"existence\" exceeding human that covers for what the gods take from them.\n\nThe gods saw them as a threat. And so they paint the demons in negative light, as if the demons are enemies of the humanity, when in fact none of them had done anything wrong.\n\nThink. Prometheus had been deemed an enemy of the gods for giving fire to human. And yet the receiver of the fire stands unpunished, if only because they used the fire for sacrificing their rightfully obtained riches to the gods.\n\nThe Serpent was punished to eternal damnation for giving humanity the fruit of Knowledge of Good and Evil. And yet the receiver of the knowledge was never punished for accepting it. In the first place, if it was in the gods' plan to give human the fruit, then why the agent is punished for doing their work for them?\n\nGods' existence was contradiction in and of itself. As the logic given by the Demons drove the existence of gods away, one by one they faded from existence.\n\nGilgamesh died, rejecting the godhood he desperately sought in his life, but his handiwork guided the path of humanity for millennia to come.",
"Richard, aged nine, yawned as his mother softly closed the door and switched off the light in his bedroom. The only light came from the subtle glow emanating from behind the curtains. The light gradually faded, as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon. Richard closed his eyes, and buried his face in his pillow, but as the last dregs of light withdrew from the English countryside, a loud popping sound, followed by a small thud interrupted his drift into sleep. He sat up, and blinked then screamed as he saw the towering figure, with eyes glowing a deep red standing at the foot of his bed. \n\n“Richard!” he hissed, “I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to talk.” The screaming stopped but Richard was still trembling.\n\n“Who are you and how on earth did you get in here?” he asked timidly. “Well, to answer your first question, my name is Lucifer, though I am known by many names. As for how I got in here, let’s just say I have my methods”, replied the man with the crimson eyes wearily. “I don’t have much time Richard, before my presence here is noticed, by some very distasteful people, and you don’t want to be around when that happens. There is much to explain, in limited time, so you’ll just have to trust me”. Richard nodded his head, relaxing. The man didn’t seem to want to harm him. “So, where should I start?…”\n\nRichard, still gazing at Lucifer’s eyes, which seemed to flicker as if lit by a fire behind his eyeballs. gasped as the man revealed his true identity, but was given no time to process this as he launched into a tale of how mysterious beings, usually known as gods, had preyed on the gullibility of humanity. \n\nAt first, the gods had threatened to destroy their crops with natural disasters unless they were given sacrifices: sometimes they could be as small as some food but what they loved the most was a freshly slain human child. As the centuries passed by, the gods had gathered under a single leader. This, naturally, was when monotheism had been introduced. After tricking some poor delusional soul into getting himself executed to spread some religion which told people they would be tortured in some place called “hell” unless they worshipped the one true God, their absolute power was cemented. It was brilliant. Terrible, but brilliant.\n\nLucifer described how he had protested, to no avail. He, along with some of his fellow young idealists, had concocted a plot to assassinate Yahweh, but they were betrayed, by an agent of Yahweh. He was sentenced to death, but managed to escape, and form a resistance, with a headquarters located deep, deep underground, where no god could find them. Alas, they had toiled for centuries and centuries to no avail. \n\nThey had almost given up hope when, one day, a prophecy had been revealed to them. It told of how one day, an Englishman, born in a distant land but returning to bring salvation, would end the tyranny of the gods and deprive them of the prayers they so desperately craved..\n\n“.. and that Englishman, Richard, is you”, concluded Lucifer. \n“Me, a messiah?”, Richard said skeptically. “But I can’t be. I mean, I’m just Richard”.\n\n“Indeed you are, Richard. I sense great things in your future. Things which will cripple those tyrants who enslave humanity”. His expression darkened as he spoke of them. “Their greatest weakness is that they need you, Richard. They need you to believe, but they cannot appear themselves. They can only send messages. They are so filled with malice that it distorts them, making them hideous”.\n\nRichard pondered what the man had just told him. An idea was forming in his head. This would not be a war of weapons, but a war of ideas. He smiled. He knew exactly what he needed to do.\n\nLucifer paused for a while to let Richard take in this wealth of information and then turned to face him.“So, Mr. Dawkins, will you take up the mantle of the chosen one? Will you liberate us once and for all?”",
"She could feel her heart pounding in her throat as she shut her eyes tight, forcing her mind to clear, desperately trying to find peaceful sleep.\n\n\"It's all a lie...\" the shrill voice called as the hairs stood up on the back of her neck.\n\n\"It's all in your head, it's all in your head...\" she told herself as she took in a few deep breaths.\n\nWhile she had always been someone who felt a connection with the supernatural, this was completely different. \n\n\"Listen, girl. I need you to hear me!\" The voice called out in gut-wrenching agony. \n\n\"Please, God. I pray to you and all the blessed Angels. Save me and protect my body and soul!\" She made the sign of the cross repeatedly and clutched the cross around her neck for strength.\n\n\"There is no God!!! Not as you imagine! Listen to me girl, it's all a lie!!\" The voice clawed at her nerves as tears streamed down her face. \n\n\"Holy Father and merciful Angels, please-\" \n\nHer prayers were interrupted by a scream. She heard the sound of beings colliding, a moan and then a powerful blow. \n\nAnd then silence. \n\nShe wiped the tears from her face and opened her eyes. The light in the hallway cast shadows in her bedroom that stood still as she breathed heavily. \n\nAfter what felt like an eternity of silence she stood from her bed and picked up her Bible. She wasn't sure if she should check herself into the nearest psych ward or go see her priest and spend the night in a house of God. \n\nShe knew one thing, for sure, she couldn't stay at home. She couldn't risk it coming back, even if it was all a figment of her imagination.\n\nShe put on her sneakers and made her way to the door, the Bible and her purse in hand. She sat down in the front seat of her car and took a few deep breaths. Her heart was still racing. \n\nShe opened the Holy Book, hoping she would find some answer, some direction, in its words. Her hands trembled as she leafed through the book of Psalms to find a warning etched across one of the pages. It was written in a substance that was thicker than ink, but darker than blood, in handwriting that she could barely make out:\n\n\"Beware of false promises. They are not the ones trying to save you!\"\n\n",
"I looked her up and down. She had appeared in my bedroom just a minute before, gently shaking me awake. She was incredibly beautiful, despite the red coloring, horns, tail, and cloven hooves. It was actually strangely exotic. At first I thought I was dreaming and tried to kiss her because hey, it was a dream, right? She had singed the tip of my nose with a finger and yelled, \"Down boy!\" \n\n\"Get thee behind me, Satan!\" I yelled and tossed the bottle of holy water my mother had told me to keep at my bedside for just such emergencies! \"In the name of Jesus, the Father, and the Holy Spirit!\"\n\nThe demon standing before me began to grasp at her face, falling to the floor, screaming in anguish and then there was laughter. I was nonplussed as she stood up wiping tears from her eyes, \"Really Chuck? You think I haven't seen the Exorcist? I even know it's where you get most of your religious training.\" She puffed into an existence an electronic tablet and swiped, \"Says here the last time you went to church was 8 years ago. Really? Couldn't even make a Christmas service for your god?\"\n\n\"Are you taking me to Hell?\" I asked, tears forming in my eyes and she rolled hers. I was genuinely both frightened and slightly aroused at the thought. \n\n\"Chuck, the gods are bunk.\" She told me and began a Powerpoint Presentation on her tablet. I was sure I was dreaming. A beautiful demoness (what is the female form of demon, anyway?) was giving me a Powerpoint Presentation. I threw a little bit more holy water on her and she narrowed her eyes, \"Chuck, if you do that one more time I will I will shove that bottle up your...\"\n\n\"Gods are bunk,\" I narrowed my eyes back at her because I didn't want to know where she was going to shove my bottle, \"Says the demon! You know we have a saying, \"Don't trust Satan!\"\"\n\n\"First,\" she said, smiling and my heart melted a little, \"I'm not Satan. Second, you made that up. Yes, I AM a demon or at least that's what you called us. We've been demonized, pardon the exactness of that statement, by most major religions because their gods want you to not trust us. You know, kinda like the political propaganda going on right now?\"\n\n\"Wait, are you guys responsible for...\" I was starting to ask but she bought up a cute little hand to put over my mouth.\n\n\"Oh don't blame us for your political woes! That's all on YOU guys.\" She said defensively with a touch of anger. Her eyes became a darker green when she got angry. \"Demons stay out of politics and law as a whole, well most of us anyway. We do need specialists sometimes.\"\n\n\"To buy souls?\" I asked, \"You know like the stories of Ol' Scratch at the crossroads at midnight?\"\n\n\"Chuck, I am beginning to think you are an idiot.\" She said, her tail twitching involuntarily, \"Why did they send me to someone who... never mind. We don't NEED souls. The gods are inter-dimensional beings that feed off of the power of belief, you know the old sci-fi trope? Well, it's true.\"\n\n\"What can I do about it?\" I asked believing her for whatever reason. I had always been quick to believe things without much proof, \"Do you need me to form an army of non-believers? Lead them to battle on... er, the internet? I've been to /r/atheism before.\"\n\n\"I don't know what that is,\" She told me, \"Half of what you're saying is gibberish and the other half is nonsense. She sighed and rubbed away what I thought must be a forming headache, \"No, Chuck, all I want you to do is not believe in god anymore. Stop feeding him. Get up every morning and do good for the sake of doing good! Love your fellow man without expecting a reward. Feed the poor...\"\n\n\"Help the sick?\" I offered and grinned, \"You sound a little like Jesus?\"\n\nShe sighed, \"Yeah, he really did a number on you guys. He's fed off of so much belief they have to roll him around now. If he returned to Earth like he promised he'd probably squash it.\"\n\n\"That's no moon?\" I offered, giggling.\n\n\"What?\" She said then I understood she probably wasn't up to date on our cultural references. She turned back to her Powerpoint Presentation and led me over the course of ten minutes what she called, \"The Deep Reality of the Situation. See, this is REALLY Hell. Well, its the name of the dimension I'm from but do you see any flames? Pitchforks? Well, minus those they're farmers.\" She flipped through that slide quickly, \"See, Chuck? Your world can be a paradise like ours.\"\n\n\"Ok,\" I told her and stood up, \"I will no longer believe in god! See, it's that simple. Bingo, I'm a fighter for the cause!\" She then smiled and hugged me.\n\n\"Only six billion to go!\" She said excitedly, \"Thanks for adding to my numbers.\"\n\n\"Speaking of numbers,\" I said, waggling my eyebrows as suavely as possible, \"How about dropping me your digits?\"\n\n\"Chuck?\" She said and leaned in, lifting the empty bottle of holy water and wielding it threateningly, \"Shall I put this somewhere?\"\n\n\"No ma'am,\" I said and threw the sheets over my face. I heard a little *POOF!*, peaked out and she was gone.\n\nI sat back on my pillow and vowed to keep my promise. I lasted nine hours. You see, I was visited by Jehovah Witnesses the next day. As I returned to God, I thought I heard Jesus burp off in the distance somewhere. I shrugged, who would trust a demon anyway?",
"Ram was born in a poor but religious family. Raised by a farmer, Ram always knew he had to work hard to get by in an already fast paced world. Slowly, he would learn that hard work alone would get him nowhere.\n\n\"You see that big mansion Ram.\" His father pointed towards the village priest's house.\n\n\"That is what you get to please the gods. Look at me Ram. I work all day long in the fields to barely feed you and your mother. God knows I've done many sins. You are my only good deed. That's why, you should always devote your work in God's name. Don't be like me\"\n\nRam followed his father's advice and worshipped the Gods before and after any work. Never did he questioned or doubted the existence of them. It resulted fine for him, as he turned out to be an excellent student at college enough to land a job at a renowned company.\n\nOn their death bed, Ram's parents said, \"Son! Not only in your good times but even in your worst times, don't forget to say His name.\" Taking his dying parents words as a commandment, he never forgot to remember the almighty in both good and bad times.\n\nHowever, his whole perception was about to be tested. After a long day at the office, Ram started back to his home.\n\nOn a deserted road, he saw a group of people, dancing in a weird way approach his car. He honked but they wouldn't budge. He stopped and proceeded out of his car to have a reasonable dialogue with them. Suddenly a man from behind twisted his arm and placed a cloth over his nose. The chemical was strong enough and Ram was down in an instant.\n\nHe woke up, tied to a wooden bed in a dark room surrounded by a group of intoxicated men chanting something he never heard before. He looked up and saw a black cloud had begun to form. The ground started to shake vigorously. He took the Lord's name and lost his senses for the second time.\n\nHe woke up, still tied. Gathering his senses he looked around and saw people covered in blood lying on the ground. He started praying hard. He tried to break free and did so with just a little force much to his surprise. \n\n\"Where the hell am I?\", he blurted out nervously to check if anyone else was present in the room.\n\n\"Hmmm...\" A loud grunt alerted him. He looked around and saw an exit. As soon as he heard a movement he made a dash for it and broke the door in pieces. Now that he was out, he recognised these fields. \n\n\" I guess that answered your question\", a deep inhumane voice spoke aloud.\n\nTerrified, Ram looked for its source in vain. He started his chants.\n\n\"Stop it with that douche's name already. Tell me, how do you feel?!\"\n\nRam couldn't understand the importance of the question. He replied, \" Who are you? Why don't you show yourself?\"\n\n\"You are quite daring Ram, for a religious person\", the voice remarked.\n\n\"Don't be too shocked. I am what you call, a Demon. And I know you are smart enough to figure out where I am\".\n\nRam was shell shocked. His mother's stories on demons came back to him. He looked at his stomach. He didn't say his prayers.\n\n\"It is time you learn the truth about the Gods\".\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] "Would you like fries with that?" He said with a grin. In that moment I knew... I had lost.
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"\"Dude come on, I'm on a diet.\"\n\n\"But there only 99 cents. Large fry. One time only.\"\n\n\"It's been going so well, I've lost 5 pounds; I've got a good thing going here.\"\n\n\"Sam, you know you want them. I mean look at these babies. Fresh from the fryer. Boiled in peanut oil. Dosed with fresh seat salt. Piping hot too.\"\n\n\"I can't dude..\"\n\n\"Sam, I'm offering you a FREE BURGER with a LARGE fry for practically peanuts here. Look at the this piping hot burger with onions, pickels, and melted cheese. It's your favorite. One little cheat day can't hurt.\"\n\n\"Ugghh-fine.\" I say relunctantly. I pull out my leather wallet and reach for the green paper inside. I glance at his face, smug wouldn't even describe what emotion he expressed. It was something far greater. Like the pride of the devil himself. The cashier looked at the green paper and smiled.\n\n\"Would you like fries with that?\" He said with a grin. In that moment I knew...I had lost. I solemnly nodded, and he took the green paper, printing the receipt.\n\n\"Thank you for your purchase.\" He said taunting me, and turned towards his crew behind him.\n\n\"That! Ladies and Gentlemen is how you make a sale!\" The crowd behind him mocks me in laughter. Their lips howl in delight and bellies look like drums. In a few minutes, my order is complete. I look at the meal with disgust.\n\n\"Have a nice day.\" The cashier gloats with his smile gleaming. I nod at him and put an oily, hot, salty fry in my mouth; my diet completely ruined.",
"*BANG* The sound of the front door slamming jolted me awake, dark and unseeing I hastily rubbed my eyes. I look around aimlessly as my eyes struggled to adjust to the dark, using my elbows to prop myself up I whisper \"Jake did you hear that!?\" \n\nHearing no response I reach over to wake him...only to find empty space. 'What the...?' My mind quickly ran through possible scenarios as I quickly turned on the lamp beside our bed. '3:52 AM...What in the actual hell?' \n\nPanic quickly filled my system has my heart raced more and more by the second. I threw the covers to the side and raced to get my slippers on, as I scampered outside of the bedroom I shouted \"JAKE??!!\" Shit..this can't be happening...not again. I bolted down the stairs almost afraid of what I will see...or rather what I won't see, 'please be there, please be there, god please!'\n\nSomething flickers across my peripheral vision, I stop dead in my tracks. \"Jake? Honey is that you?\" barely above a whisper but I knew he heard me. I turn to the side and I see him, the moonlight lighting up his pale face. His piercing blue eyes glowed like moonlight on polished stone, half-lidded and unseeing. The standoff was more than I could handle, I collapse onto the floor beneath me. \"Oh god Jake, wake up!\" I absent-mindedly rubbed my hand protectively over my baby bump. \n\nThe distinct metallic blood and the pungent smell of antiseptic swarmed my senses as I think back to the last time Jake had one of his sleep walking episodes. The deafening whirl of ambulance sirens still fresh in my mind, I shakily reach out my hand \"Please Jake, wake up\" The tears come out unrestrained, my vision blurred and breaths came in between ragged sobs. Scared and oblivious to what I should do, I wiped my eyes when suddenly \"Hey Angela, come'on don't cry.\" \n\nSoft and velvety smooth, I calmed down noticeably. Still teary eyed I looked up to see his rugged features looking cautiously at me. \"m'sorry I made you worry again\" his hands rubbed the back of his head with a small smile, he flashed his teeth at me and came in for a hug. I let out a long sigh of satisfaction with all the fear and panic in my system flushed out in an instant, I embrace him with all my being. \"Jake, I was so scared, when I heard the door slam I thought 'what if he was...was...'\" \n\n\"sleepwalking on the road?\" With an apologetic smile, he looked down and kissed my forehead. \"I'll always be here ok? I still need to protect you AND our baby.\" His smile was smug as he pointed animatedly towards my growing stomach. \n*Grooowl* My face instantly flushed red like a tomato. With a hearty laugh he patted my stomach and said \"worked up an appetite while looking for me? Are you gonna make me go get you one of your 'delicious tuna-ham-apple-avocado-parsley-garlic-honey-egg sandwiches' again? I swear those cravings aren't normal!\"\n\"S-Shuddup, go get me 2 of \"Jake's specialty panty dropping bbq cheese burgers\"\nHe looked at me curiously, \"its been what...4 years?\" Then he chuckled and whispered next to me ear: \"Would you like fries with that?\" a completely satisfied smile lit up his face. \n\nI nostalgically think back to the new years party 4 years ago...and the promise I made with my best friend Christie. Spiked up with an overwhelming amount of liquid confidence she said \"I bet you're gonna get laid tonight!\" My face scrunched up in disgust \"Nu-uhn! what do you think I am...easy? That's a bet, you'll owe me that new album the moment after countdown.\" Satisfied with our deal we parted ways. I inwardly chanted to myself 'DONT LOOK AT GUYS, DONT LOOK AT GUYS, DONT LOOK AT GUYS' but then I saw *him* he grinned gesturing towards his labeled **Jake's Panty dropping bqq cheese burgers** Looking charming with his ruffled bed head...We locked eyes and without warning: \"Would you like fries with that?\" He said with a smug grin. In that moment I knew I had lost. \n\n\n\n*Please be gentle, this is my first time writing!! :/ tell me how I did, please and thank you!*"
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Any reasonable degree of "unfinishedness" is fine. Reasonable is subjective, but don't, like, only write one word, or write a full story and drop the last word off, or something.
Responses don't have to *complete* the story, but must advance it! The response *may* end the story. Up to you!
You can post in the same thread twice, but... not as a response to yourself.
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[WP] Leave a short story unfinished. Continue someone else's story.
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"\"Out! Out! Get **out**! Move! **NOW!**\"\n\nGrent looked around in a panic. There was no place to get out *to*: they were on the fifth story, the alarms were *screaming* their location, and the guards had already filled the first and second floors, and were working on the third, rising like sand in the bottom of an hourglass. They were out of time. It was over. There was no way out. No way. Nowher--\n\nHeugh knocked him out of his thoughts with a sharp smack to the back of the head. \"What the *fuck* Grent?! Get *out*!\" In his left hand, Heugh held a black bag containing the Vestige they'd come to steal. He wasn't supposed to be holding it; that wasn't part of the plan, but the trap on the safe had killed Maika as soon as the latch turned. The builders weren't screwing around: why leave a living thief to try again?\n\nIt wouldn't stop Heugh. He *would* do the job, screw whatever went wrong, as long as he had a backup plan. And he always had a backup plan. He'd used two of them, already. It hadn't been a good heist, and Heugh wasn't in a great mood. All bad.\n\nThat was the other thing about Heugh: you didn't get on his bad side. There wasn't a living soul *on* Heugh's bad side, because Heugh did a damn good job of making sure that those people didn't stay \"living\" for too long. On Grent's priority list, \"pissing off Heugh\" sat in a solid third place, right behind \"turning himself in to the guards\" and \"jumping out the fifth-story window\". And yet, priorities be damned, here he was, searching for the answer that Heugh clearly found obvious. \"Get out *where*, Heugh?\" \n\n\"You shittin' me, kid?\" Heugh grabbed the front of Grent's shirt and dragged him to the window, then knocked it open with an elbow to the latch. Almost immediately, a *crack* reported from within the room. Under normal circumstances, Grent wouldn't have jumped; he knew what the sound was. Things were just more than a little bit tense, right then. Another *crack* sounded off. Grent looked around to confirm that, yeah, the two mages they'd brought were gone.\n\nRauss and Kerah would meet them back at the camp outside town. Rauss, the healer, would fix any injuries once they got back to the safe spot, as long as they could make it in one piece. He hadn't been able to help Maika, but Grent couldn't blame him for that: as soon as the trap triggered, there was that purple flash, and she was just... gone. There one moment, gone the next, from a person to a corpse in a heartbeat. Wasn't Rauss' fault. Still, had to keep as few of them around as possible, in case things went south, so they'd agreed that, as soon as the Vestige was secured, anyone who could flash out would flash out. Heugh could've sent the Vestige with them, but that wasn't who he was.\n\nKerah had already done her part. They brought her on board to blow the safe if they tripped the alarm and hadn't cracked it, yet. Might've destroyed the Vestige, but, hey, if they had to leave it behind, it wasn't much better off to them then if it were blown to bits. Heugh thought like that. When Maika had set off the trap, and the alarm, Kerah didn't have to blow it -- Heugh finished the safe. Grent had a suspicion that Maika was only there to clear traps, just in case. He couldn't say for sure, but it wouldn't have surprised him: Heugh thought like that.\n\nThe mages were gone, Makia was dead, Heugh had the Vestige, and they were at a dead end. Five stories up, staring out a window into the night. Grent had to hand it to Heugh: they'd gotten close. He'd have called the job impossible, outright, if anyone else were running it. Turned out to be impossible, anyway.\n\n\"Ain't got all day, kid.\" Heugh always sounded impatient; he sounded moreso than usual. \"You gonna jump or die here?\" Heugh took a step back, ran up to the window, and vaulted out of it. Just like that.\n\nGrent leaned out over the windowsill and watched as Heugh hit the ground. It was soft grass over loose dirt, out on the lawn, but it didn't matter much from that height. He landed like a sack of rocks. Grent could've sworn he heard a *crunch*; his stomach turned.\n \nA movement near the edge of the lawn caught his eye: a figure ran over to Heugh -- was that *Rauss*? He dropped to his knees, set his hands on Heugh's mangled figure, and... Yeah. It was Rauss. Pale blue-green light splashed from his hands across Heugh's back, and... he got up. Heugh scooped up the Vestige, dusted himself, turned back to the spire, and made a gesture at Grent.\n\nGrent just stared. *Hell, Heugh,* he thought. *This is your Plan C?* The ground was so, so far away. What was it he'd thought, earlier? That \"pissing off Heugh\" sat in a solid third place, right behind \"turning himself in to the guards\" and \"jumping out the fifth-story window\"?\n\nHe wasn't quite so sure about that one, anymore.",
"He was sitting alone on the side of the stone bridge, one that he played around as a child with various other kids from the local village. As the star-studded sky looked down onto him, he only felt the coldness of the darkness as it slowly crept around him. He could hear it though, the stream below, bubbling as the water swam over the slick, muddy riverbed. Occasionally, he would hear the hoot of an owl, or the call of an animal he could not identify, as he simply looked downwards.\n\nWhy was he here? He had no idea truthfully, but something drew him here, something brought him back to the stone bridge. Perhaps it could be a sense of childhood, of nostalgia to a simpler time when he was just a young child, but in the dead of night, it was difficult to understand why. As he sighed and looked up at the sky, where the stars and the moon smiled upon his face, he only thought of a time where he could roam freely, free of the obligations of adulthood, where anything was an adventure, despite what anyone else said.\n\nThen, he heard a twig snap in the distance, and the nostalgic thoughts evaporated from his mind. While the stone bridge was travelled plenty of times from village to village, it was still relatively in the middle of the wilderness. The man breathed softly, his head wheeling to the sound of the twig as he looked forward into the darkness of the woods, anticipating what was to emerge."
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[WP] You thought you were the Chosen One. However, the prophecy refers to the child of your father, which you have learned that you are not. That means, somewhere, you have an older pseudo-sibling who is the true Chosen One.
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"\"What?\" I asked, my mind grinding to a halt. \"What did you just say?\" My hand grasped for my sword out of reflex, my instincts screaming a fight was coming soon.\n\nThe cleric looked down at me. A solemn look marred his normally jovial face. \"I am sorry, Child, but the portents do not lie,\" Bolvand said. \"You are not the Chosen One, but it is another.\"\n\nEverything began to feel far away. \"I... I can't... I have trained my whole life for this!\" I heard my voice say. It all seemed like this had to have been happening to someone else. \"Endless hours in the drill field and temple, training and studying warfare and combat! I AM THE CHOSEN ONE!\"\n\nA tear fell from the old man's wrinkled cheek and spattered against the temple's marble. \"I understand. We all thought it was to be you as well, but the prophecy simply stated-\"\n\n\"I KNOW WHAT THE PROPHECY STATED!\" I roared. \"MY FATHER'S CHILD WAS TO BE THE CHOSEN ONE! I KNOW THE GODS' DAMNED PROPHECY!\"\n\n\"Please, calm down and think. I am sure there is a simple solution to all of this.\"\n\nFingers of ice snaked their way into my chest, and I fell to my knees. \"This means,\" I whispered. \"This means I am not my father's son.\" My stomach roiled. \"I... I can't...\" My breathing grew rapid. \"I...\" \n\nI heaved soundlessly against the cold stone floor. Only a small amount of yellow spattered against the white and gray stones. They wouldn't let you eat a day before the ritual. *I don't understand.*\n\n\"The day your father came to us, the prophecy was given by the High Priest Ozuel himself,\" Bolvand said. \"I tried to save his life, but he kept insisting that we care for his child. He was carrying you with him. I've told you this story before.\"\n\nI shuddered and slowly rose to my feet. \"I know.\"\n\n\"The confusion then lies with that moment.\" Bolvand turned to the three other clerics who were in assembly. \"We must find his child.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" they agreed and began to turn.\n\n\"I'll do it.\" All four men turned back to me, and I lifted my chin. \"I will find my fath- Cedrik's child.\"\n\n\"I'm not certain that is a good idea, Dain.\" Cleric Bolvand put his hand on my shoulder. \"Others should undertake this duty. You shouldn't feel the need-\"\n\n\"Who better?\" I asked, staring into this blue eyes. \"Who better than me? I am the best in this country with a sword, none can best me in games of wit, and I have ample experience in the wilds. None but I can do this.\"\n\n\"I don't-\" Bolvand began, but he was cut off by a throat clearing.\n\n\"Then let it be so,\" a voice like withered parchment whispered. \"Go Dain, and find the one to save us from Hell itself.\"\n\n\"High Priest! I must object,\" Bolvand shouted.\n\nThe High Priest stepped down from the pulpit, his bony hands and face making him appear wraith-like in the sun-bathed interior of the temple. \"It must be, Cleric Bolvand.\" High Priest Ozuel faced me. \"Now, gather your things and go. All your provisions were already laid out. Find the one we need, and bring him back.\"\n\nI nodded and turned, by white cloak billowing out behind me. *I used to be the one they needed,* I thought. *But now... I am but a tool to find him.*",
"The lanky scholar smacked against the ground again, lip split and nose bleeding. Irene dug her practice sword into the ground and leaned against it, looming over Gregory. \"Get up. We're going to do it again,\" she snarled. \n\nGreg rolled over, wiping at his nose, trying to get the bleeding to stop. He stood up on shaking legs. Irene immediately knocked him back down by sweeping his feet from under him. He crumpled with a whimper. \n\nAva ran out and put her hands on Irene's shoulder, \"He's done! It's enough!\" \n\nIrene drew herself up and stared down her nose at the smaller woman. \"Do you think the Dark One will stop?\" \n\nThe other woman shoved Irene hard, not moving her at all. \"You're not the Dark One, Irene.\" Ava turned, leaning down to help Greg to his feet. Irene walked off, back into the castle. \n\nGreg tried to wipe the blood from his face again with shaking hands. \"She's right,\" he groaned. \n\nAva shook her head and pulled one of Greg's arms over her shoulders. She helped him limp towards the medical ward. \"She's being an ass. Just because she's not the Chosen One,\" Ava trailed off. \n\nHe shook his head again. \"She trained her whole life for this. Centuries of breeding, only for the king to take his chances with the kitchen maids?\" Greg may not have ever known either of his parents or much about fighting until recently, but he'd studied the Arcane Royalty for most of his life. The king's indiscretions infuriated him on an academic level. Though, obviously, he wouldn't be alive without them. \n\nThe woman next to him sighed. \"It doesn't matter. She needs to train you, not take her anger out on you. It won't help if she cripples you before you even have a chance to face the Dark One,\" Ava sounded adamant. Greg was glad she was looking out for him, even if it felt misplaced. \n\nHe sat heavily on the medical cot. Ava stepped back as the healer wordlessly began treating him. Likely, the man had seen Greg's beating due to the proximity to the training grounds. \n\nOnce Greg was properly salved and bandaged, he limped his way back to the training grounds with Ava worriedly trailing him. \"Can we spar, Ava?\" He turned to face her with a training sword. \n\nAva simply plucked another sword from the rack, knowing she would not talk him into rest. Greg was trying to throw his all into the Chosen One as much as he threw himself into his academic pursuits. \n\nIrene watched from the sidelines as her father approached. The king watched the fight for a moment before addressing his daughter, \"How is he coming?\"\n\n\"Poorly,\" it was a simple reply for a simple question. \n\nThe king cleared his throat. \"Perhaps his strategic skills are best put in a tent, not on the field?\" \n\nIrene turned to glare at her father. \"The Chosen One must be the hand that slays him. We know the prophecy.\" They still hadn't fought about the discovery of her half-sibling. Her mother's vacation to the southern palace told Irene they'd fought spectacularly. After all, Gregory and Irene shared the same birthday and were the same age. \n\n\"Perhaps,\" the king began, \"it is a metaphorical hand.\" Irene rolled her eyes. The king cleared his throat again. \"I have been informed that your brother Noah has finally arrived.\" \n\nIrene nearly saw red, \"My what?!\" She refused to turn, to let him see. \n\n\"He was raised as a lord in the east. Adopted son. He is the last, I swear to you, but it can be no coincidence I had three children on the same day,\" his voice had a pleading edge, but Irene began to walk away. The king clasped and unclasped his hands in front of himself. He turned to watch one child he had given up fight, as another he had abandoned approached from the hall. They suffered for his choices and he would live with that. Even if she was not the Chosen One, he had chosen her. "
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[WP] You're sat on the train on your usual, mundane, daily commute to work. The stranger sat opposite you answers their ringing cellphone. They offer you the phone, stating "it's for you"
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"Another Monday come and gone, and as I shuffled onto the train, I felt I was none the better or wiser for it. It had been a particularly miserable day at work, and I was ready to go home and have a well-deserved drink.\n\nI managed to grab a seat next to the window, and for one brief, shining moment, I thought I would be lucky enough to sit by myself. But then a man in black slacks and a long trench coat sat down next to me and i inwardly rolled my eyes and cozied up to the window. \n\nI'd been staring out the window for about 10 minutes, gazing aimlessly at the fields when the boopy ringtone of someone's cell phone startled me out of my reverie.\n\nI heard scuffling noises and felt my seat mate shuffle around. 'Oh great,' I thought. 'Not only did I have to sit next to someone, now they're a public cell phone talker too.' Hell, thy name is public transit. The ringing stopped, and a husky male voice next to me, \"Hello?\" \n\nI was settling my forehead back against the window when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to look at my seat mate.\n\n\"Excuse me,\" he said, \"but it's for you.\" He offered me his cell phone. \n\nI looked confusedly at him. \"What?\" I asked.\n\n\"It's for you,\" he repeated, waving his phone towards me. Unknown caller, the ID said. I snorted. I bet!\n\nI must have gone temporarily insane, because the next thing I knew, I was awkwardly taking the phone from him. I lifted it to my ear and said, \"hello?\"\n\n\"...just five short questions in regards to the leadership of the Conservative party of Canada. Question one: on a scale of 0-10, 0 being...\"\n\nI shoved the phone back towards him in a huff. \"Are you kidding me?\" I exclaimed.\n\nThe man was laughing as he took his phone back. \"I'm sorry,\" he chuckled, \"you just looked like you were ready to start crying and throw yourself out the window.\"\n\n\"Well, that was a ridiculous way to bring me back to real life,\" I huffed. \"Survey about the Conservative party, yeah right. I'll give them a survey...\" I continued muttering under my breath for another moment as he laughed again. \n\n\"I'm sorry if that was odd,\" he said again as he tucked his phone into his pocket. \"It just seems like both of us had the same kind of Monday, and I know I feel better when I talk it out...so do you?\"\n\nI took a deep breath and reassessed my seat mate. Normal-looking enough...easy on the eyes, nice smile. Yeah, I guess I could talk to this guy a bit. \n\n\"Yeah,\" I sighed, \"I think I could use an ear.\" He smiled at me, and as he gestured for me to begin, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. \"I'm sorry,\" I said as I pulled it out. \"Just give me a moment....hello?\"\n\n\"This is a message from the Conservative party of Canada....\" \n\n\"Oh!\" I exclaimed, and turned back to my seat partner. I held out my phone. \"It's for you.\"\n\n\n"
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[WP] It’s the 1800’s and dragons are extinct everywhere except the American western frontier. A cowboy’s most important job is protecting cattle from dragons.
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"I found the damnable set of boots sitting at the back of the Wai’pu gulch.\n\n“You know this is sacred ground to the Comanche?”\n\n“Perfidious knave, such daring…” said the dragon. Smoke started to lick at the ends of its nostrils, they were about the size of dinner plates, this fella was big getting ready to molt and get even bigger, black on black eyes narrowed. The dragon was slowly stepping toward me “What do you care for the brown man little ape boy.” \n\n“Cowboy,” I said taking a step back.\n\n“beg your pardon?” The dragon was moving its head in that way that a snake might hypnotize a mouse.\n\n“The word yer looking for is cowboy.” I stepped back again.\n\n“Are you made of Cow?” It licked its lips.\n\n“No sir I am not. But see, them cows you’ve been eating are mine. My cows so I’m the cowboy. get it?” One more step back.\n\n“Do you seek a donative?” The dragon began a low crawl.\n\n“If that means anything other than giving back my cows than no.” Step back again.\n\n“A white man refusing gold?” Crawl\n\n“I can't eat gold, I coulda ate the cows” step back\n\n“The cows pleased us.” Crawl\n\n“What about the Comanche? You a man-eater?” Step back, almost to the opening of the gulch.\n\n“Of course I didn’t sully my teeth on those filthy savages. But a white man such as yourself, that may be just the aperitif I need.” Its voice took on the sing-song of a spell, I was running out of time and gulch.\n\n“Half.”\n\n“Half aperitif?”\n\n\"Half Comanche...Get em fellas”\n\nThe arrows sailed in from a hundred bows and the dragon screamed in rage and pain. Two of them managed to take his left eye in the first volley and he was thrashing around. I picked my own bow off the ground and opened fire. Dragons are immune to gunfire and the stroke of a steel ax but it turns out that a flint arrowhead is just the bees knees for hurting them bad.\n\n“Wuunu Mia!!” I yelled as loud as I could. Out from under my coat came a 10 gauge double barreled shotgun Loaded with salt. I let the old snake have it from both barrels. The dragon Screamed. I sprinted for Windbear, he was waving for me to run faster, I obliged, I could already feel the heat on my back as the old lizard started to coal up. I made it past wind bear and kept right on running. The flame breath hit the old medicine man and disappeared like water down a drain. The dragon kept running after me, the salt shot in my gun was designed to blind it for this part of the plan but I do believe that dragon was pissed off at yours truly. I reloaded my salt shot and gave the critter another snoot-full on the run. It didn’t hit him very hard but it pissed him off just as much. I ran past Laughingpaw who was, of course, laughing at me. and he too drained the fire breath from the beast. After the next shaman, I tossed the scattergun to Billy and he took the critter for another lap or two around the circle we made. It was significantly smaller now and it ate a lot of cows. I did one more lap and the poor critter could barely move.\n\nFinally, it ran out of the fire that sustained it and was barely the size of a horse, filled with beef as it was it couldn’t stop us when we got to work carving it into little pieces. Dragon skin sold like crazy back east and well, so did every other part of the critter. The kicker was that the Chinese even bought the bladders full of dragon fire we collected. I mean sure the were gonna be extinct soon but hey, at least we used the whole animal right?",
"The black dragon glided down to the men gathered around the campfire. The ground shook as it landed. The dragon roared back its head and howled, small tufts of flame leaking out of its nostrils as it did so.\n\nChief Hassun rose slowly. \"Dramatic tonight, Chogan.\" The Chief and his people had always called the dragon Chogan. Dragons didn't have names, but it saw no reason to correct them, and so Chogan it was. The creature lowered his head and dropped his wings, and Chief Hassun hugged him. It wasn't a particularly easy task to hug a dragon, but the Chief made it seem about as graceful as a human could muster.\n\n\"I hope you are well old friend,\" Chief Hassun said. \"It has been a moon, but we are here as we said would be.\" The Chief turned to his men around the campfire. \"Not as many men as I had hoped. Four died in a raid last week. And twice as many have taken ill with the red cough.\"\n\nThe Chief looked Chogan up and down, \"But it seems you are not any better off. What I would not give to go back to the days of the Black Waves.\"\n\nBlack Waves had been how they would hunt. Chogan had worked with the tribe for more moons than he or the Chief could count. It had started with the steers. It was easy for a soaring dragon to herd a pack of the creatures. And Chogan would drive them right into the Chief's waiting men. They would split the bounty. In time they learned to fish together as well. The dragon could take up half of the river and with a little thrashing, would send entire schools of fish directly into their nets. Black Waves.\n\nBut those days were long past. The dragon that stood before Chief Hassun now was a shadow of its former self, maybe half the size as when they had met those many years ago. The white men had stopped the river with one of their dams. And steers that had once roamed free in the country side were now few and far between. The white men had gathered them up, keeping the cattle in their farms or driving them north to market. Chogan and his kin had tried to coexist peacefully at first. But as their food became thinner and thinner, tensions had escalated with the white men. Unfortunately for the draken, they had waited too long. Without the regular calcium in their diets, their legendary impenetrable scales had become quite penetrable. The dragon population was decimated in that first year. They were killed in their attempted attacks on the white man farms. Their weakened bodies were little match for the white man's guns. Even the dragons that managed to actually survive and succeed in such an attack were usually hunted down shortly thereafter.\n\n\"White Feather, bring the meat that we saved.\" One of the Chief's men nodded and quickly brought out three dead rabbits strung together. \"It is not much. If we had more, you know we would share it.\"\n\nChogan bowed his head in a gesture of respect to the Chief. The dragon ate the rabbits. For him, it was only a single mouthful of food. The two sat together in silence for some time.\n\n\"I think our time is coming to an end old friend. Soon we will hunt together in the sky,\" the Chief said. \"But that will be for another day. Not tonight. Tonight we will show the white demons that we will not go quietly.\"\n\nChogan turned his head to the east and bellowed a long howl. \n\n\"My scouts have been watching their weekly trips north with the cattle,\" the Chief said. \"The white demons are camped about five miles north of here. There are only two handfuls of them. Even with our depleted numbers, we are twice that.\" The Chief smiled. \"And of course that is not counting our greatest warrior.\"\n\nA few minutes later and the fire had been put out, the Chief and his men had gathered their things and were now mounted on horseback. \"Tonight we ride brothers. We will slay the white demons, and we will free their beasts. We will keep a few to feed us and the rest will be returned to the land to once again roam free.\" Several of the men made a whooping cheer and they rode.\n\nAs they approached the white men's camp, Chogan soared ahead. He knew the plan. From above he saw the camp. The fire was low, and most of the men appeared to be asleep. Chogan eyed where the men had tied down the cattle. He would start there.\n\nOut of the quiet night came a screeching black monster. The cattle, understandably with no idea what was happening, began to leap up and down at the commotion. Then as the animals were fully riled, Chogan unleashed a ball of flame scorching the earth just a few feet away. All hell broke loose. \n\nA good number of the creatures broke free from their ties and began running into the night. One of the larger animals rammed directly into a cattle wagon, partially turning it over. The stampede got worse as the two white men sitting at the campfire drew their weapons and began firing at the dragon. One of their shots connected through Chogan's left wing. It wasn't the first hole in his wings, but it made flying harder. The dragon turned to soar away and as he soared past the outskirt of the camp, he spit forth another ball of flame, lighting one of the other wagons on fire.\n\nChogan landed and waited out of sight for some time. He was too weak to help more than he had done. The sounds of the camp echoed through the night. First the confusion over the dragon attack, then the white men rushing to their horses to retake the cattle, and finally the gunshots and screams as Chief Hassun and his men descended in the midst of the chaos. All grew silent, but then Chogan heard voices. This wouldn't be the time for talking. Something was wrong. The dragon reared its wings and in a few moments was back at the camp.\n\nIt had been a massacre. Almost all of the bodies littered around the camp were white men. But everything had not gone according to plan. One of the white men was still alive and he was holding the Chief with a knife to his throat. The rest of the men had this sole survivor surrounded.\n\nThe man yelled, \"Everyone back away or I'll open him from ear to ear! I swear it!\"\n\nChief Hassun spoke, \"You can not kill what is already dead. Your people have already killed me and mine.\" The Chief looked at White Feather, who was standing in front of him and nodded.\n\nWhite Feather drew his bow and nocked an arrow. As he pulled the arrow back, the Chief saw Chogan approaching. He managed a tired smile. \"Goodbye friend,\" he said.\n\nThe arrow ripped clean through both the white man and Chief Hassun. Chogan roared. He swooped over to one of the steers still tied down and picked the beast up in his mouth. He flew away with his meal. Chogan knew the Chief was right. He was practically dead already. But he would eat tonight. He would grow stronger. And he would make the white man pay before he finished dieing.",
"I didn't want to be here. I was forced here against my will. We ruled this land for a hundred millennial; the dark wings in the sky, princes of the air, lords of man and beast. We co-existed with the red men for all of that time in relative peace and harmony. Sure, we'd destroy a village or two every once in awhile to keep them in line. But for the most part, they worshiped us as gods and brought offerings and living sacrifices. This pleased us. It pleased us very much.\n\nThese white men are a different breed all together. They arrived suddenly and unexpectedly in giant floating cities. They caught us unaware and pushed us westward from our ancestral homes in the coastal mountains, just as they did to the red men. They burned down the forests, slaughtered the beasts of the wild, desecrated the land with tools of steel and iron. They attacked us with mighty cannons, tore our wings with searing chunks of metal; they stabbed our elderly and clubbed our young to death. Those that stayed to fight died. Those few who made out live here now, on the great western frontier.\n\nHere isn't home, but it's not so bad either. The land is wide and mostly empty, still teaming with delicious shaggy beasts of hoof. The air is clean and clear, the rivers bountiful, and the mountains much larger than those back east. Small dragon clans of Green, Red, and Gold have sprung up and begun breeding younglings. The hunting is good, and even when it isn't the red men here tremble before us and bring gifts and offerings a plenty. For a large and ancient black dragon like myself, it's practically a paradise.\n\nYet even here the pale skinned men have begun encroaching. They slaughter the shaggy beasts and red men alike, and for reasons I cannot understand they even make war upon one another. They pepper us with stings from their short weapons and long weapons. I've learned the long ones hurt more, but the short ones fire faster. Luckily they come here in much smaller numbers, and are much easier to deal with than the armies back east.\n\nI've burnt entire towns to the ground. I've devoured their women and crushed their children between my claws. I do this not for pleasure (pleasurable though it is) but out of necessity. If the white men come here in force, they will push us further west - right into the ocean. I cannot let that happen. I will not let that happen.\n\nNow they come in larger numbers, leading vast herds of hoofed beasts. They are smaller than the wild shaggy ones, and have far less fur, but they are much tastier and easy to catch. The only problem: they are guarded by white men in wide hats mounted on tall powerful beasts. These men are wild and reckless, but their aim is true and they show no fear when my shadow passes over. I've seen groups as small as 10 take down dragons; not as old or powerful as I, but not younglings either.\n\nI have no choice, I must drive them away: for the sake of all dragonkind. My wings are strong, my teeth are sharp, and my flames are hot. I will drive them from this land, or die trying.\\\n\n---\n\n/r/DariusPilgrim\n\n\n\n",
"*In the summer of 1886, veteran Texas Cattleman, Charles Goodnight was beginning the JA Ranch cattle drive along the Palo Duro-Dodge City Trail when his group was attacked by a 20-foot Estacado Lagarto. Goodnight was killed alongside eight JA Ranch cowhands and close to nine hundred heads of cattle. Distraught by the recent loss of her husband and exasperated by the growing dangers of ranching in dragon territory, the death of her ranch manager was the final straw for Ms. Cornelia Adair. She decided to sell off the ranch and invest her fortune in other ventures.*\n\n*JA Ranch was subsequently split up and sold forming several smaller ranches in the Palo Duro area. Wealthy investors jumped at the chance to own a piece of the booming beef market. Due to the nature of the job and the scarcity of employees, owners offered hefty salaries to ranch managers and cowhands that were willing to work in dangerous Palo Duro Canyon ranches.*\n\n***\nMonday morning, JC pulled the short straw and was tasked with riding out to Amarillo to collect the biologist. Since he was going into town anyway, he was also given a list of things to pick up by Ruth. \n\nAfter he finished off the list, he headed to the station and tied both horses up nearby. He rode his own horse and brought Clover, a tame old thing, for the doctor to ride.\n\nThe train was on time. It came screeching into town at 2 o’clock. JC sat back and looked for someone who looked well-educated. \n\nThe majority of the folks getting on and off in Amarillo looked to be locals. Not too many women and only a few children. Amarillo hadn’t ever had an incident, but it was still a pretty risky area. Most families stayed further south, off the Caprock. \n\nWhen Dr. Hull stepped off the train, JC knew it was him right away. The first hint was his bowler hat. A pretty useless hat out in the fields or pasture. The second clue was his pale pink skin. Clearly, he hadn't spent too much time outside. \n\nThe doctor was stretching and grimacing as he got off the train. He then hobbled towards the piles of luggage being unloaded. Now, JC could relate to that. He rode that train in from Oklahoma and it wasn’t pleasant. There’s just not a good way to sit for that long. \n\nJC walked up to him and cleared his throat, “Dr. Hull?”\n\nThe man turned from his luggage pile, “Oh! Yes!” He had big, watery blue eyes behind his round spectacles. A reddish-blond mustache sat above his smile, “Grant, please. No need for formalities. And might I have your name, sir?” He extended his hand.\n\nJC shook it, “Call me JC. Need a hand with the bags?”\n\nDr. Hull turned to his luggage and then back to JC, “Um, yes, please. I, ha, have quite a lot.”\n\nThe doc wasn’t kidding. All his bags had to be split between the two horses. After loading up, Dr. Hull gave a nervous chuckle, “Think we could rest a bit before heading out? Maybe get a bite to eat?”\n\nJC glanced up at the sun. The doctor probably just wanted some downtime between riding a train and riding a horse. JC was not unsympathetic, but he wasn’t stupid, either, “Sorry, no can do. It’s about 20 miles to the ranch from here, so we gotta get movin’.”\n\nGrant Hull got on his horse with just a little trouble. JC politely avoided watching. Once he was up there, the two started off towards the ranch. JC kept them riding a bit alongside each other, primarily because the long ride can make you sleepy and bored. \n\n“So,”JC decided to drum up some conversation, “what brings you out here, Dr. Hull?”\n\n“Just Grant, please,” the doctor reminded him, “And I’m here on a grant, actually,” he breathed a giggle through his nose; a smile cropping up under his mustache. “I’ve been given a federal grant to come out here to study the dragons.”\n\nJC furrowed his brow,\n\n“Study ‘em?”\n\n“Yes,” Dr. Hull beamed, “Academia is severely lacking vital information on these organisms.”\n\n“They’ve never sent somebody to study ‘em before?”\n\nDr. Hull’s smile faulted, “W-well, in 1846, President Polk did send an expedition, but it was, uh, unsuccessful.”\n\nThe two fell silent for the next few minutes. JC noticed Grant started looking a little green. JC could only imagine the thoughts that must have piled up in the doctor’s head during their silence. Probably really considering exactly what he’d gotten himself into. \n\n“You know, the houses at Triple R ain’t never been touched by one,” JC spat out what he thought might count as consolation. Instead the doctor just looked confused,\n\n“Never been touched by what?”\n\n“A dragon. They’ve never come that far out of the canyon. Least not in our parts.”\n\n“Uh, good.”\n\n“It’s just you look a little nervous, is all,” Grant’s unassured reaction made JC feel as though he needed to justify himself. \n\n“Ha,” Grant spoke a laugh, “I suppose I am, slightly.”\n\n“Well,” JC sighed, “I guess I’m a little nervous too,” he tossed Grant a flat smile over his shoulder, “I ain’t never seen one. Just got here from Oklahoma in January. You may not know this, but dragons don’t usually come around until spring.”\n\nThe doctors breathed another giggle through his nose, “Oh, I know,” he began digging around in one of his bags and produced a journal, “In fact, based on past temperature recordings, you should start seeing *Piernas cornutum* in the next few weeks!”\n\nJC squinted, “And that would be?”\n\n“The Mexican Horned Dragon,” Grant beamed, “No wings on that fella, but still an extraordinary predator!”\n\n“Oh good,” JC said flatly, “I can’t wait.”\n\n“Yes,” Grant missed JC’s sarcasm, “It’s exciting to consider that I will finally be seeing these creatures in the flesh! My university is full of skeletons, and I’ve handled plenty of cadavers,” JC winced at the thought, “Yes, I’ve been studying them for years, but this will be the first, true, wild, and live scientific documentation of them!”\n\nAfter that, the doctor didn’t shut up. He talked a lot of science - the behaviour of dragons, theories on their fire production, hunting habits, and other things JC didn’t really want to dwell on as a cowhand. That one-sided conversation spiraled into another - this time about politics. JC couldn’t have cared less about politics, but clearly, they were very important to the doctor and his securing of his grant. \n\nThe ride ended up feeling much longer than it truly was on account of Dr. Hull’s rambling, but right about sundown, he stopped jabbering. JC imagined he was just admiring the sunset. They don’t get in better than the ones he saw out there.\n\nWhen they arrived to the stable, Dr. Hull started up again. There was a flood of questions, observations, and grunts of discomfort as they dismounted and put away the horses. JC gave short, one word answers for the most part.\n\n“Alright,” JC finished putting away Clover’s saddle, “Miss Ruth will probably have dinner ready in an hour or so, so we have a little time to get you settled in a room.”\n\nDr. Hull slapped his hands together and rubbed, “Fantastic! You know, all I’ve been thinking of this whole time is getting one of those famous steaks between my teeth!”\n\nJC laughed, he just couldn’t help it. Dr. Hull’s eager smile fell and his mustache made a downward curve,\n\n“W-what is it?”\n\n“Oh, doc,” JC wheezed, “I ain’t never had a Palo Duro steak in my whole life!”\n\n“Wha - not even here?”\n\n“Well,”JC calmed his laughter, “This is probably the first time in my life I could afford one - but we don’t do the slaughterin’ here. We gotta keep ‘em alive and health till they get to the north.”\n\n“Oh,” Dr. Hull said, suddenly sheepish, “I didn’t consider. You’ll have to forgive me,” he gave an earnest smile, “My speciality is in biology, not the ranching industry.”\n\nJC chuckled, “I suppose you’re about to get some first hand experience, then.”\n\n“Heh, yes, I suppose.”\n\n“Come on,” JC waved hefted a pack over his shoulder, “We’ll get your situated over here. Grab your stuff.”",
"A man in a wide-brimmed hat strode into town atop a weathered chestnut steed while the day was laid to rest. The town itself contradicted itself; big despite its size, empty despite its population and unwelcoming though no one paid heed to his arrival, one way or the other. The air itself reeked of a damned wetness that he could not place outside of putting him on edge.\n\nAbout the town, lamps were lit and doors were closed despite the heat. No one sat on their porch to enjoy the falling night, to recall the passing day among friends and family, chomping down on pipes and smokables and sipping their cares away with whatever passed for moonshine in these parts. Leastwise, that’s what he thought people would do normally. He’d read things. Heard stories of life in a town like this, of a life so unlike his.\n\nAll the better, he supposed. He let his horse carry him to the tavern and latched the reigns and breezed through the door. Not saloon style doors that he’d seen elsewhere, but solid wooden doors that closed with a thump behind him.\n\nThe place was full of the kind of dour life you’d expect at a funeral. Menfolk crowded the tables with only the barkeep at the bar. Hushed conversations belied the fear about town, and not a single whore was in sight to stoke their egos or passions. Somehow, it was a dead place.\n\nHe saddled up to the bar and ordered a whiskey as the bartender dropped an empty glass and the nearly-full bottle in front of him. He was a preacher, by the cloth he wore.\n\n“Never saw a preacherman tending bar before.” The preacher patted his moustache, his hand draping around his vestments unconsciously as fumbled for his apron to wipe his hands.\n\n“I tend my flock, one way or another. ‘Sides, it ain’t been Sunday ‘round here for some time.” He spoke of troubles, but the man wanted to enjoy his whiskey for a moment longer.\n\n“Cute name for place.” This earned him what something that’d never have passed for a smile elsewhere from the preacher.\n\n“Dear Old Hart. Ah yes. Been some time since someone cared to notice. Not many strangers ‘round these parts and all. Dear Old Hart …hall of the greats. Look at these “great” folk. Got the Marley and his gang shittin’ themselves next to what’s left of the law quaking in their boots. Order ‘n chaos, right at the same table. It’d be funny if it weren’t so…“ He trailed off.\n\nFinishing his whiskey, he said, “I’m a Ranger, and I’m looking for Ranger’s work.”\n\nThe place went silent. The preacher turned to the bottles on the wall to hide his signing the cross, kissing his rosary and hastily shoving it back into his vestments. It was still sticking out when he turned around.\n\nHe’d placed his hat on the stool next to him. When he locked eyes with the preacher, he saw the mark of the Ranger, the dark branding across his eyes. With the hat on he didn’t notice. Now he couldn’t help but stare.\n\n“Talk to Marley about what’s happened.”\n\nThe Ranger shot down the whiskey, noting the peculiarities of the local stock as he sauntered over to the table. \n\n“You the sheriff?” He asked of the man with the badge, the proud star of the local lawmen.\n\n“I shot the sheriff,” Marley interjected, “But I didn’t shoot the deputy. Did him a mercy after the attack.” The deputy did a slow nod, not speaking. Marley ran the town, for all the good it did. The mayor of a doomed place, pride and his gang’s attachments giving him what’s left of the power in this place.\n\n“It started after the rains,” he continued, “Filled up the gulch just out of town. The Dry gulch, see? ‘Cept now it’s wet. And something that were livin’ there, now it’s out there prowling about. Sometimes during the day, mosttimes at night.”\n\nAs if on cue, a strange reverberating howl invaded the room from some distance away.\n\n“It had been a few days. Shit! It’s been a few days and now he’s hungry because he eats the people he takes, he eats them! We drove him off once, filled him with bullets, set him on fire, but he came back like, like …it don’t matter!” He grabbed his whiskey and slammed it down.\n\nThe Ranger walked back up to the bar, grabbed his hat. “Tell me, preacherman,” he sneered at the bartender, “You tend to your bar like you tend to your flock?” He did a slow nod, regarding the heavy door with most of his attention.\n\n“I’m takin’ this,” the Ranger said, grabbing the whiskey bottle as he headed out the door. The night air sucked into the bar when the door opened, as though from the collective gasp the room gave when the Ranger committed the cardinal sin of opening the door at night.\n\nThe humidity and heat of the summer night gave sweat to the Ranger’s brow; briefly, he fished around for a rag to wipe it with while walking down the main thoroughfare, the full moon held high in the air.\n\nAnd that’s when the monster appeared. In the dark of the night he might’ve been taken for a man but for the wings, but the dim moonlight showed just enough to …well, just enough. It weren’t no man. It loosed another one of its strange cries, and set toward the Ranger with violence in its limbs and mind.\n\nCalmly, the Ranger pulled out a match and lit his handkerchief. The reek of the match’s sulfur wafted into the night air while the light of the ‘kerchief showed to all some kind of plan.\n\n“Ranger!” the preacher bravely shouted from the bar door, “fire don’t kill it, we done tried that!” From the door, the preacher could barely work out the Ranger working the flaming cloth with his hands somehow, now with the creature nearly upon him.\n\nWhich is when it burst into flames, howling like it never had at the pain and agony of the searing heat that now enveloped it.\n\nWith it writhing on the ground, the Ranger pulled an enruned, silver blade from the scabbard on his back that gleamed in the moonlight, its sheer white reflection in stark contrast to the hellish light given from the creature.\n\nThe preacher had heard of the weapons Rangers use. Special blades forged from the special silver from the mountains of Yosemite that were miraculous in their ability to damage and kill creatures that would do men harm.\n\n“High-Yo silver…” the preacher whispered. The Ranger drew back, readying for a strike.\n\n“Away!” He bellowed and struck true, felling the beast in a single stroke.\n\n\n\nThe next day the Ranger, belly full of rest, food and drink, spoke to the preacher once more as hero of this place.\n\n“There is the matter of payment,” he reasoned.\n\n“The town is poor since the attacks, the oasis serving no draw with the news of the creature. We could but promise you payment, as a debt to collect.”\n\n“A debt? Do I look like a loan Ranger?”",
"Dust in the cracks of my boots, dust in the cracks on my lips, dust damn well everywhere. The cows are never bothered except for when a sandstorm happens, then it gets in their eyes too much. They probably eat a pound of dust every year, at least.\n\nI get plenty of time to mull over anything and everything, though often I think about the dust. It sometimes whirls in tiny short-lived cyclones, and can be pretty, in its own way. In the distance along our route, about where the heat is making the air look like water, I see a few forming now.\n\nThese sure are big 'uns. Biggest I've seen so far. I can't wait to tell Susan about this tonight, she and little Jimmy won't believe it. It's practically as tall as a man now!\n\nMounds of dirt start growing out of the ground like hills erupting forth. They're shaking and causing an explosion of dust. Now I know what this is. I ain't never seen one in person, but I reckon it's a western hornback dragon who's made a nest along my route near the first watering hole, probably because he could smell the cow piss.\n\nFuck. I whistle sharply and gallop towards the front of the pack to round the cows in the other direction. The hornback exhales sharply, obscuring the sound of my whistle, but fortunately scaring the shit out of most of the cows and now they're running the right way. I've got a pistol with a coupl'a bullets in it, and a whip, but I'm not feeling to good about this. I gallop off behind the cows, and the dragon has taken a few large steps behind me, and the cows are now running for their lives. Blinding gusts of wind and dirt shoot from behind as the hornback dragon beats its wings, getting ready to lift off. \n\nI can't lead this thing home. I unholster my pistol and shoot the nearest cow in the hindquarters, and she stumbles for a bit and then tumbles to the ground. I look back as I'm riding past her and see that the hornback has fallen back to the ground and is inspecting the cow with great interest. It grips the cow easily with one foot, and takes off flying in the other direction. \n\nLooks like I need to get a new route. "
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[WP] While putting your favorite condiment on a sandwich, you accidentally draw a symbol that summons demons.
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"Hunger pains, a functional folly.\n\nTurkey on rye to serve my volley.\n\nWont interrupt my research now.\n\nI can do both anyhow.\n\nGrab the ingredients from the fridge\n\nRead the necronomicon whatever that is.\n\nLettuce cheese turkey tomato.\n\nUerba concipito excitare mortuos \n\nPentagram mustard, cheeky fun\n\nmors et vita sunt\n\nThe earth split, people got sick.\n\nFamily died but it was only a trick.\n\nWife bit my finger, son bit my nose.\n\nMy butt cheek was the part grandmother chose. \n\nDimming of light as slowly I die.\n\nFarewell bite of that turkey on rye.\n\n",
"I’ve seen the movies. You’ve probably seen them too. The ones where dark cultists summon demons and devils by drawing bloody symbols on the ground. Usually they celebrate by possessing people, speaking in tongues, summoning an army of the dead, that sort of thing. It’s all very hardcore. Very “metal”.\n\nMustard demons, though, now they’re a little different. For one thing, there’s nowhere near as much chanting. I guess I hummed a little, but I’m not sure if that counts.\n\nI’m not a creative guy, but I like to doodle on my food. Like a work of mustardy art. Mustart. That’s probably where I went wrong.\n\nI had just put my knife back in the jar to get a second helping when there was a puff of smoke – a little on the spicy side, if you ask me – and there it was, floating a couple of inches above my sandwich.\n\nA gloopy yellow blob, its surface seemed to ripple slightly as if moved by its own breeze. Two small points that might have been horns jutted out slightly from the top. Slowly, with almost painstaking effort, it spoke.\n\n“What?”\n\nI stood there and blinked. Had my mustard just talked to me?\n“Excuse me,” I asked it, and immediately felt awfully silly. Who ever heard of anyone talking to their condiments?\n\n“What are you?”\n\n“Mustard,” it replied in its deep, slightly too rounded voice.\n\n“Oh.” Obviously.\n\n“Hurry up,” it continued. “I haven’t got all day.”\n\nNeither did I. I really ought to have finished making my lunch by now.\n\n“Don’t mind me,” I told it.\n\nThe mustard sighed in exasperation.\n\n“Woooo,” it chanted unenthusiastically, sending ripples cascading upwards across it. After a moment, it stopped and shivered.\n\n“There you go.”\n\n“There I go what?” I asked.\n\n“It’s done,” came the reply.\n\n“What is?”\n\n“The ritual.” It turned and gazed down at the half-finished sandwich beneath it with its non-existent eyes. “It should be pretty hot now.”\n\nI followed its lead and stared uncertainly at my lunch.\n\n“My sandwich?”\n\n“Yes,” confirmed the mustard. “Can I go now?”\n\nI nodded, and the demon vanished with a squelch.\n\nWithout its demonic companion, my sandwich looked rather lonely. For a sandwich. Next to it sat the jar of mustard, the knife still sticking out of it at an awkward angle. I picked it up and spread it across, forever erasing the summoning circle.\n\nAnd now it’s lunchtime. I’ve never had a demon cast a spell on my lunch before. To tell you the truth, it scares me a little. But who ever heard of being scared of a sandwich?",
"I can feel my eye swelling shut and it stings. I start making a turkey sandwich and I just hope it's enough to please Mike, I can feel my eyes water and my hands shake I'm scared. I knew he was having a bad day I shouldn't have set him off by asking him about it. I keep praying to myself \"Please, let this help. Please, let this help.\" I am trembling while I'm reaching for the honey mustard and seeing the bottle I have a small comfort that this was something Mike and I bonded over during the good times, when he was gentle and his hands only ever brushed my face tenderly. Honey mustard tastes like a happier time. I am absentmindedly applying the mustard thinking about how much Mike really does love me, when I hear\n\n\"ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE ALL GOD DAMN DAY TO MAKE ME THIS SANDWICH?!\"\n\n I jump and squirt the last of the mustard hurriedly when the kitchen windows burst open. I grab the sandwich and rush to tell Mike what happened. \"Took you long enough.\" Mike grumbled as I run into the room.\n\n\"Mike the kitch-\"\n\n\"The fuck is this?!\" Mike interrupts\n\n\"It's turkey, with-\"\n\n\"No, what the fuck is this? You know I like the sandwich cut diagonally, this isn't even cut in half! you know I like to eat the middle part first!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, it's just that in the kitch-\"\n\n \"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR YOUR EXCUSES! I WORK HARD ALL DAY AND ALL I ASK FOR IS A LITTLE GOD DAMN RESPECT!\"\n\n\"I'll take it back and cut it for you, here let me fix it.\"\n\n\"FIX IT?! NO!\" He says as he picks the sandwich up from the plate and throws it at me \"YOU WILL REMAKE IT, STOP WASTING MY GOD DAMN FOOD AND DO IT RIGHT THE FIRST TIME!\" He booms at me pushing me to the ground and throws the plate painfully into my face. He has busted my lip open and maybe broken my nose but I pick up the plate and leave the room I know how much he hates seeing my cry, I don't want to make things worse anymore then they already were. I had forgotten about the activities in the kitchen when I rounded the corner to see a giant creature in my kitchen. This creature was so tall it nearly hit ceiling, yet it was so slender that for a second I thought it could be a large snake but I saw it had limbs. It seemed to be made of black smoke, and yet if I had the courage to reach out and touch it I was sure that I would touch a solid object \n\n\"Mistress you're hurt\" it said in a deep grumble that reminded me of a thunderstorm. I was frozen in place, what did it mean mistress, who or what was this thing? \"Mistress let me help you.\" It said reaching for my face, I flinched and could only manage the tiniest of squeaks but I feel the gentle hand I had long since forgotten touch my face and I no longer felt any pain.\n\n\"Who are you? what are you doing here?\" I was finally brave enough to ask.\n\n\"I am your personal demon, Aatami, you summoned me mistress\" he's thunder voice gently rolled\n\n\"You have been mistaken, I am a good woman I don't summon evil!\" I said more as a plea then anything.\n\n\"I am not evil, just because some demons are does not mean I am. It would be like comparing all humans to Jeffery Dahmer. It's just unfair to do such don't you agree?\" The demon says leaning in and it is only now that I can see the twinkle of it's gray eyes, I am suddenly reassured that everything will be alright, I am safe it's presents.\n\n\"BITCH, YOU BETTER HURRY UP WITH THAT SANDWICH I ALREADY WAITED LONG ENOUGH!\" Mike shouts down the hall.\n\n\"I have to hurry!\"\n\n\"No, mistress allow me,\" the gentle thunder of its voice calms my panic. Aatami waves their hand and the most beautiful sandwich appeared.\n\n\"Thank you Aatami,\" I say and walk down the hall to deliver the sandwich.\n\n\"You know I love you, right babe?\" Mike asks as I set the sandwich next to him. My heartbeats, I am about to reassure him that I know he loves me and I love him too when he adds \"You're just a dumb cunt sometimes you know,\" and he takes a bite of the sandwich. \"You just can't appreciate how good you have it here.\" Suddenly a dozen demons similar to Aatami enter the room and start grabbing Mike and dragging around the room and pulling him in the air, Mike struggled against them.\n\n\"AATAMI HELP!\" I scream\n\n\"I am mistress\" Aatami says calmly as if these events in the living room were normal, mundane events. \"He is being judged and sentenced for the crime against my mistress.\"\n\n\"FUCKING BITCH! YOU BETTER HELP ME! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! YOU SET ME UP!\" Mike shouted in between his struggles against the demons.\n\n\"Sentenced to what?\" I asked Aatami quietly and staring at Mike helplessly, but just then I saw Mike's angry eyes that burned into me change to fear and disappear.\n\n\"Eternity\" Aatami said, \"It would appear that he did not pass the judgement, and he will now be at the receiving end of the hate and evil he harvested throughout his life.\"\n\n\"What about me? Do I pass the judgement, after I killed the man I love?\" I ask tears rolling down my face. I felt ashamed and betrayed trusting Aatami, for believing that there was anyone here to help me. Aatami seemed to know this and said\n\n\"You nor I were the cause of his death, he had the opportunity to live happily but his wish was to only bring more harm to you. We heard your prayer was pure, you love and see the good even when looking at evil. You were judged when you summoned me and passed, I gave Mike the opportunity and he failed.\"\n\n\"I don't know how I summoned you but I'm glad I did. I am so sad to lose Mike but I'm sure everyone was right, he was going to kill me one day.\"\n\n\"He was going to kill you tonight, after he ate the sandwich he was going to get upset at some other small thing and take things too far. I thought you knew and that was why you drew our symbol in the mustard.\" Aatami said. I didn't know what to say, it was a purely an accident that saved me and I don't know if I should feel comforted in the fact that I was saved or scared that I didn't see it coming.\n\n\"Aatami, will you stay with me and keep me safe?\" I ask.\n\n\"Always Mistress, from now until eternity I will ensure that nothing but good enters your life from now on.\" ",
"“Jesus, Santiago! I was just getting ready to eat! What the f—“\nI had just finished sputtering the last of the mustard from the bottle when he – it? – appeared. \n\n“Who are you? How the fuck did you get my sigil?!” he said, pointing at my sandwich.\n\n“Your…sigil? Is a sandwich?”\n\n“No, you daft imbicil! The sign in yellow…how’d you find it?!”\n\nThe umber-skinned creature was drawing a knife from a belt loop as it maneuvered its way closer around the kitchen counter.\n\n“Whoa there, I—look mate, all I wanted was to have a fresh sandwich! I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Here,” I said, swiping a knife across the mustard, smearing it evenly across the cheese.\n\n“Well, that’s not going to do anything, I’m already here -- stuck now, thank you!” \n\nHe was directly in front of me know, looking me up and down before quickly grabbing my wrist before I could react. Once it registered, I tried to pluck my hand free, but he was much stronger than his frame and size relayed. \n\n“Please, don’t -- I only wanted something to eat. Please, just take the sandwich, there’s crisps in the cupboard as well – salt and vinegar, if you like.”\n\n“You know, I have half a mind to just kill you for even suggesting that flavor! Now, hold still!”\n\nHe swiveled in his stance, which is when I noticed he was wearing Converses. He took the blade, and dug it deep into my upturned palm causing a warm, wet sensation with only a small ache. He then placed the blade into his teeth and drug it across his own palm before clasping our hands together. \n\n“There -- deed is done,” he said, placing the knife back into the leather loop and turning back to face me.\n\n“Converses? Really? I thought demons had cloven feet…how do you keep them on?” \n\n“Oh, and you’re the expert I suppose? A bona fide PhD on all things demonic?”\n\n“No, I mean, I just have seen a few shows… on the tele…” \n\n“Oh ho! This is grand! A few shows on the tele and he’s the world’s foremost expert on me!” \n\nHe suddenly twirled and came in close, grasping the collar of my shirt. \n\n“You could be dead within an instant, don’t fuck with me—you know nothing of what I’m capable.” \n\nHe had growled while saying this and all I could think was how great he’d be as Sabertooth, though he’d definitely have to get rid of the shoes.\n\n“Really, though, the shoes…I’m not trying to disrespect, they just feel of…like, you’re trying to catch some of that Doctor Who fandom. Next you’ll be calling me Alonso.” \n\n“Is that your name—no, you know what, just shut up, shut up!” \n\n“That’s—now you’re mixing your Doctors.” \n\n“Doctors? What?” \n\n“Who, actually, and just one, though many faces.” \n\n“Whatever, I – just make your request already!” \n\nHe was actually becoming more flush, the red in his face growing as a visible gauge of anger rising. He was tapping his toe, arms crossed, waiting.\nHe wanted a response, but I wasn’t sure what was required. A request? Was this like Aladdin’s Genie? Something more sinister? \n\n“I—what you mean a request? Like, are we at a dance now? You going to DJ for me?” \n\nThe demon’s blue eyes stared intensely as he tried to gauge for sarcasm. \n\n“Okay, so you don’t know how you summoned me, you don’t know the actual sign in yellow, and you don’t know how a demon’s pact works…grand.”\n\n“Look, you don’t have to be all on end about this, just help me understand, and if I can help you get home, I will.”\n\n“'Help me go home,’ he says, ‘help me go home’,” he said, in falsetto. “Look, you can help me by just telling me what the bloody fuck you actually WANT!” \n\n“I want--,” I hesitated briefly, not sure if it would be wise to fight this fire with equal ire, but continued,” I want. A. BLOODY. SANDWICH! Now, let me be for 10 minutes and we’ll get this sorted out all proper-like, okay?” \n\nHe started a laughing, louder and louder. As I lifted my palms to cover my ears, he suddenly vanished. The only thing left of him was the smell of sulfur. \n\n“Hello?” Nothing, no answer, no sudden poof back into my kitchen. Silence. \n\n“Helloooo?” He must have really left. Odd.\n\nMusing over the last half hour’s events left me in silence for a bit, interrupted by a slight grumble from my stomach. \n\n*Ah yes, my sandwich, finally! *\n\nAs I lifted up the sandwich, liquid began dripping down onto the plate in excess. I looked down.\n\n“Fu—really? You had to be literal!?” \n",
"What the bloody hell was my boss thinking?\n\nThree bloody times I could've shot that damned Frilled Ostritch-Dragon and solve all our manufacturing problems with a nice chicken sandwich, but she just couldn't dream of me hunting alone on the job. No, I'd be a \"liability,\" a \"cause for suspicion,\" a \"mad gunman killing off the last of a species and throwing piss at all the witnesses.\" *Witnesses*. *Witnesses* casually taking a stroll in the GODDAMN BLOODY OUTBACK. But whatever. Because of corporate legal bollocks, I have to teach a fat, impatient Russian shitebrain that animals can hear his \"manly gun\" from miles away and can run faster than his war-crime of a gun can even rev up. \n\nAnd *Jeremy*. By Hale, Jeremy. If I had a dime for every time I almost strangled that little ankle-biter, I wouldn't be sittin' here taking odd jobs from this piss-stain of a company in the first place. The wanker poured out my decaf and filled the coffee cupboard with his cancer-ridden energy drinks, mistook one of my piss jars for the same god-awful sugar cans in the dark and *accused me of flattening his drinks*, and **taunted the bloody animal we were hired to skin** because he thought it smart to piss it off until it challenged us, as well as other displays of dumbassery I don't care to list. \n\nAnyway, it's been a day since my last meal, so I figured I'd take a break. Let's see here... fried chicken. Disgusting, it's not even sealed. A ham sandwich. Maybe, but I know there's more here. Sautéed frog legs with quiche. Who even brought that rubbish here? My ostritch leg is gone. Bloody hell, Jeremy. Eat your own dried-out drumsticks. Ah well, boring sandwich it is, then. \n\nI sat down and set my plate on the floor, and took out my jar of vegemite and looked for a knife. After finding a dinky little butterfly knife I started spreading the nectar of Australia over the top slice when I had a bright idea. Bloody awful, actually, but I figured there wasn't any harm in scribbling the symbol that dress-wearing fellow tried to treaten me with last Halloween. I folded the sandwich after getting bored of my doodles, but before I could take a bite, the ham started smoking! I dropped the sandwich immediately as it crumbled in dark brown fire. After a few seconds, a hand reached out as a fat, mushtached imp-lookin' fellow climbed out of nowhere and glared at me. \n\n\"**COWER IN FEAR, PUNY MORTAL. YOUR WIZARDRY MAY HAVE SUMMONED ME TO YOUR REALM, BUT IT CANNOT BEND ME TO YOUR WILL. I AM TAZMATICUS, DEMON LORD OF THE HUNT, MUSTACHES, DROP-BEARS, AND ALL THINGS AUSTRALIAN. BOW BEFORE MY MIGHT AND YOU MAY BE SPARED, YOU FILTHY, NEW ZEALAND-BORN SHEEPHUGGER.**\" \n\nWell, he wouldn't be the worst boss I've had, but piss if I'll let this drama queen try to scare *me* into submission. \n\n\"Hold on there, mate. You come here in a blaze of smoke, scare off all the game within a mile around, ruined my sandwich just because I smeared my vegemite the wrong way, and I'm in ***your*** debt? Give me my three wishes or rack the hell off, wanker.\" \n\nHe gave an offended look as if he couldn't fathom that I might actually have a problem with his highborn dickery, but before he could retort, the King of Whiny Pricks barged in to complain about me the third time since the day started.\n\n\"Yo, Snipes, I know you don't really get it, being a freakin' vampire or whatever, but some of us like not being awake at 2 in the mor- **OH MY GOD OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING**\"\n\nAs the fat bogan barked at Jeremy, he immediately ran off, screaming at the top of his lungs like a baby, as he usually reacted to dirty animals he hadn't seen before.\n\n\"**YOU ARROGANT DIRT-SACK. YOU SHOULD BE GRATEFUL I HAVEN'T WIPED YOU OUT OF EXISTENCE BY NOW, AND YOU EXPECT ME TO SERVE YOU? YOU DON'T OWN ME, KIWI!**\"\n\nAnd with that, I lost it. I pulled open the cupboard next to the coffee stash, grabbed a jar of Mundy's Finest, and hurled it at the breakfast-hoppin' mongrel. As he squealed in disgust, knowing exactly what I put in that jar, I retorted:\n\n\"*I DO NOW, SAVGAGGLER!*\"\n\n\"**You... You're *psychotic*. I'll do anything you want, just don't pick up any more of those jars.**\" \n\nAbout time I got my three wishes.\n\n\"Alrighty then. You said you're a demon of the hunt, right? I've got a quick, annoying little bugger I've been hired to bag, and I haven't been able to kill it without my coworkers scaring it off.\" \n\n\"**Very well. One dead, fast, annoying creature, coming up.**\"\n\nJust then, Jeremy cracked open the door and asked,\n\n\"I- Is he gone? Please tell me he's gone, whatever he is.\"\n\nI turned back to the monster, and added, \n\n\"Make that two, please.\" \n\nEdit: tyops\n\nEdit edit: changed kilometres to miles because Australia didn't start the switch to the metric system until 1970",
"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was the end of a very long day for me. I smiled down at my sandwich. It was nearly perfect. Only one last touch was needed. I reached into my pocket and grabbed my little bottle of Satan's Blood Hot Sauce. A dribble here, a line there. And just a little more to keep the mayo from overwhelming it and it was ready. I placed the second piece of bread on top, brought it to my mouth and bit down. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My mouth was on fire. That was to be expected. What was *not* expected was the sudden appearance of a gout of flame before me. It swirled malevolently. I almost dropped my sandwich. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The smell of brimstone wafted from the flames and they slowly faded away, leaving behind a being that looked like the work of a sculpter who had only the vaguest idea what a human looked like. It was corpulent, it's skin mottled yellowish scales, and its face misshapen. One corner of it's mouth hung open, with a little bit of drool slowly dripping out, which sizzled as it hit the carpet. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Confronted with this being, my one thought was *Holy shit!* Well, that, and I was pretty sure I could kiss the deposit to my apartment goodbye, what with the fire damage, and the demon drool eating a hole in my carpet. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I stared at it for a good long moment. I swallowed my mouthful of sandwich, then cleared my throat. \"Hello? Do you mind not drooling on the carpet?\" \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"Sorry Master,\" it said, in a voice that sounded like a hundred ravening beasts. It closed its mouth stemming the tide of demonic drool. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"Master? Who-*what* are you?\" I asked incredulously. Then I took another bite of the sandwich. My mouth was on fire again, but no more pyrotechnics in my apartment displayed. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"I am Gula. I am a demon of Gluttony. You summoned me with your unholy hot sauce, drawn in my symbol.\" \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I stared at my sandwich for a moment, then looked back up at him. \"Whoever heard of a demon summoning ritual with a somantic component of *eating*?\" \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Apparently it heard me, as it replied. \"I *am* a demon of *gluttony*.\"\n***\nI hope you enjoyed this and I welcome constructive feedback.",
"\"Yep, and a little bit of mayo please.\" asked Harrison, tapping away on the glass of the subway counter.\n\nThe sandwich artist duly obliged and squirted a slither of mayo onto the foot long turkey ham sub, and began to wrap it up in the iconic Subway paper.\n\n*If only he knew...* thought Harrison, looking around the store. His devlish plan had almost come to fruition. \n\n*It is almost time...* \n\nHis hand reached down into his jacket pocket and began to caress the hard, sleek item that he had kept concealed from public viewing. His fingers ran up and down the plastic tub, and around the ragged lid just as a lovers would when admiring each other's body. \n\nHe handed over the purchase price for the sub, and the sandwich artist presented him with the near perfect turkey ham sub. Harrison scanned the dining area for a seat - he needed somewhere *private* - not that it would make any difference. His plan was nearly complete, and soon; soon it would be all over. \n\nA table seated towards the back near the toilet beckoned him. If it weren't for the general chitter chatter one might expect from a Subway, you may even have been able to hear the whispers - *Harrrriisssooon, this is the place... come to me...*\n\nHarrison accepted his fate, and along with his turkey sub and the mystery container in his jacket pocket he hovered over to the provocative table.\n\nWith his back to the public to shield his devilish activities from prying eyes, he unwrapped his sub. It lay there motionless and calm. Its beauty something that Harrison could never tire of. He bit his lip and clenched hard at the container in his pocket. All this time, and it was nearly over. All this time of being patient and waiting for the opportune moment had paid off, and history was about to be made.\n\nHarrison removed the top layer of bread and the turkey ham sub laid bare. Its insides were perfectly imperfect in there alignment and display. He took one last look around, and the coast was clear.\n\nHe withdrew the container from his pocket and placed it ever so gently beside the now naked sub. \n\nSensually, he unscrewed the lid. \n\n*Oh no... I forgot the knife!* thought Harrison. His eyes darted open and for a second he struggled to string together an interpretable thought.\n\nA lack of knife was no issue for Harrison. He was not postponing the inevitable due to a lack of cutlery. \n\nIn went his portly index finger and with it he scooped as much of the contents of the container onto his finger shovel. Carefully, and deliberately, he manoeuvered his finger shovel into position. He would only get one shot at perfection.\n\nWith a gracious and sleek movement, the contents splattered onto the turkey ham sub. A dollop making home directly on top of the turkey ham itself. \n\nHarrison was feeling adventurous. He would only have the one moment to revel in his achievement. And with that, Harrison began to draw with the contents. He was fixated on the pattern he was making. His eyes were sharp and serious, his tongue was stuck out at a 40 degree angle. He meant business.\n\nAt last, it was done.\n\nHarrison leaned back and admired his work. \n\nA masterpiece by anyone's standards he thought to himself. \n\nWith a perfect :) now present on the turkey ham, he slowly placed the top layer back in order to complete his now ever more perfect turkey ham sub.\n\nHarrison put his hands around his prize and pressed gently down on the sub to compress its innards, but something was wrong.\n\nThe top bun was pushed slightly to the left and with it the sandwich began to vibrate in his hands. It wasn't long before the vibration turned more violent. Harrison clung on for dear life, but it wasn't enough. His hangs flung open and the sandwich fell to the table. Chaos ensued. \n\nThe sub, now erratically shaking on the table as if amidst some terrible fit, began to shine. \n\nThe commotion began to cause a scene. General chit chat had turned to gasps. Everyone in the subway was now fixated on the turkey ham sub on Harrison's table.\n\nSuddenly, sparks began to erupt from the sub. Scream filled the air, and Harrison abruptly jolted backwards and off of his chair. A dark, thick smoke began to fill the air, the pungent aroma of salt followed, the ever violent eruption of sparks still spurring from the sub.\n\n\"What have you done kid!?\" screamed the tall man running from the staff area.\n\nHarrison had no words. He continued to edge backwards from the crime scene. And then it happened. A blinding flash caused Harrison to fall down onto his behind, and was momentarily blinded along with the other Subway customers by the savage appearance of light.\n\n\"Mwuhahahahahaha...\" a deep and loud laughter filled the air of the Subway. \n\nThe smoke was now subsiding, but the laughter continued.\n\n\"Hahahahahahaha\" the laughter tinged with a sinister and gruesome sound struck those in the Subway to the very core. Harrison was instantly filled with dread - a very different kind of dread than what he had felt just moments earlier when he thought he had somehow created a bomb and turned himself unwittingly into a terrorist. \n\nNo, this dread was something else. This dread overruled every feeling of joy and happiness in his body, and left him with a unwavering sadness. Worse than sadness, it was hopelessness. \n\n\"Hahahahaha arise loyal follower, your glorious leader has returned thanks to you!\" bellowed the low and terrifying voice.\n\nHarrison slowly looked up and next to his once perfect turkey ham sub, he saw ginormous black hoofs. His gaze continued upwards, passed the blood red legs, passed the muscular and harrowing torso that wouldn't look amiss on a steroid using rhinoceros, and to the face of the figure in front of him.\n\n\"You, boy! You have done well.\" shouted the impeding figure, \"you have released me from my slumber and for that you will be duly rewarded!\"\n\nHarrison shook as though he had been sitting in a bucket of ice cold water with no pants on. \n\n\"Well?!\" screamed the figure, \"What do you have to say for youself? Answer me now!\"\n\n\"I-I-I-I-\" began Harrison, the words barely escaping his lips.\n\n\"Ah I see! You have been left speechless by my appearance! Hahahaha, yes that is understandle.\" the figure began to stroke one of the two horns that sat on top of his large head. His hand, for lack of a better word, moved down to the long straggly beard that emanated from his chin, that sat directly below his mouth that housed far too many oversized teeth.\n\nFor what seemed like an eternity, the room was silent. All eyes were drawn to this...this, demon. When suddenly, a teenage girl wearing a cap pointed the wrong way let out a deafening scream - and chaos ensued once more. The girl's scream let off a chain reaction of panicked shouts and screams. \n\n\"SILENCE!\" howled the demon, and the room shook and the terrified screams stopped. \n\n\"Bow down to me you pathetic humans! FOR I HAVE RETURNED THANKS TO MY LOYAL FOLLOWER! ME, QUARTZOLA HAS RETURNED FROM ETERNAL DAMNATION TO WRECK HAVOC! AND-\" the demon grimaced. Something had cut off his self proclamation. \n\n\"What- what is that awful smell?\" the demon directed the question to Harrison, who was still motionless on his behind. \n\nHarrison, lacking the words to reply simply half opened his mouth. Fear had filled his body and rendered his vocal system useless. \n\n\"It's on my body too?\" questioned the demon, \"this substance, this brown substance, this horrible, smelly, damnation! What is this substance?!\" \n\nThe room began to shake once more due to the demon's anger. A crack began to appear on the wall beside Harrison, more screams filled the air - and then the demon spotted something.\n\nHe bent down and picked up the turkey ham sub. He rose it to his nose and sniffed hard. \n\n\"Argh! This, this horrible thing is the source of this substance! What is this! You boy answer me!\"\n\n\"Tha-that, that's my sandwich sir,\" replied Harrison timidly.\n\n\"And this *sandwich*, is this where you summoned me from?\"\n\n\"I mean... yeah? I guess?\"\n\n\"You mean the great Quartzola was spawned by something as horrific as this thing?!\"\n\n\"Well, horrific is a strong word I happen to lik-\"\n\n\"-YOU LIKE THIS THING???\"\n\n\"It's my favourite yes.\"\n\n\"You are more evil than I first suspected loyal follower. And this thing is something you can purchase, from *here*?\"\n\n\"Kind of...\"\n\n\"Kind of?\"\n\n\"I added something else.\"\n\n\"Pray tell boy, and for your sake it better not have been this despicable brown substance that I am covered in that is leaking from that thing, was it?\"\n\nHarrison reached down and clenched onto the marmite container in his pocket once more.\n\n\"No sir.\"\n\n\n \n",
"“Fuck yes, whoever invented dijon mustard is a legend,” the words sloshing out of my mouth as I reached for the near empty bottle from the fridge. Genoa salami, thin prosciutto, roasted red peppers, sun dried tomatoes, and provolone cheese on freshly sliced, toasted ciabatta. Not to mention the dijon mustard to bring home the gold. This shitty college apartment may be a fucking dump, but you had better believe I’m going to compensate with a decent sandwich. And I needed this, now more than ever. My head was beginning to throb as I began to sober up, and the musty smell of stale beer from last night’s festivities crept into my nose.\n\nAs I opened the drawer for a knife, I looked down to see a few odd forks and spoons scattered in no particular organization. Living with roommates in college has its downsides, one of them being the lack of initiative for chores all around. “Whatever,” I sighed to myself as I gave up on utensils. I spotted a joint in the front pocket of someone I didn’t recognize passed out on the floor, and I helped myself. I lit my joint and took a long draw, holding it in my mouth with one hand and squeezing out a dijon turd onto my sandwich with the other. With no knife to spread it with, I resorted to using my finger. Nothing too unusual for a student with low standards such as myself. I finger painted that shit on there like a preschooler in art class. For whatever reason, I decided to have a little fun with it, drawing mock symbols and glyphs into the bread. I spread the mustard around and could swear I saw a flash of light spark, then fizzle out while looking down at my meal. Then I saw it again, only this time it didn’t fizzle, but split into two and drew out a circle. Then a star inside, and then strange, foreign symbols revealed themselves in each section of the star. \"What the fuck did I just smoke?” I contemplated as I stared down at the still burning joint.\n\nAfter what felt like hours of staring down the symbols, I was dumbfounded. Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any fucking weirder, my sandwich erupted into a huge pillar of sulfurous flame, engulfing the kitchen table. I couldn’t move. I didn’t know if I could even speak. All I could manage was to hesitantly glance between what I thought was a simple joint, and this horrible inferno from the depths of hell that now found its home in my kitchen. The flames began to flare outward, then they sank to the ground. Smoke clouded the area, but I could make out two disgusting, brutish outlines of creatures that had only some vague semblance of being human. I heard grotesque hissing and cackling from their direction as their shadows seemed to mimic laughter. They hunched over like animals. Horns reached up from their heads through the darkness. The clouds of smoke faded, but the stench of death and decay they brought remained. I could see the beasts more clearly now; they had scarred, spiked, red flesh with muscular, disfigured physiques. They stepped towards me, both heads turning at unnatural angles as they seemingly inspected me. The first thing I saw cross out of the smoke was its leg, with a black hoof at its end.\n\n“Your sacrifice has been weighed and found deserving of our presence. To whom do we owe this visit? And for what service shall we be employed?” an indiscernible number of voices beckoned, though I could only see two beings in front of me. They gazed at me with piercing, yet oddly trustworthy eyes. “Uhh.. What?” was all I could muster, incredulously shifting my eyes between the two of them, my joint, and the spot my sandwich previously sat.\n\n“Oh for Christ’s sake, Zagan, not again,” one of the creatures whined as it turned to the other and shrugged its arms like he just can’t seem to catch a break. “Well don’t take it out on me, Vepar! You always do that, we talked about this, remember?” replied the other. “What I remember is the good old days. Back then, people WORSHIPPED US, man. We were hot shots, even that shit head Paimon wanted to party with us. Now we just get babies drawing on iPads and fucking idiots like this one,” the first reminisced. Just when I thought they forgot about me in their bickering, the one that was referred to as Vepar turned and disappointedly looked at me. “Look at this kid, he doesn’t even know what the hell is going on. I mean look around, he’s probably still wasted,” he cried out as he pointed at empty beer bottles around the room and the joint teetering on the edge of my mouth. “Nailed it,” I spat out. Vepar dropped his head down and pinched the bridge of his nose with frustration. “Let’s just go home, Zag,” he said before they disappeared in another pillar of hellfire. I looked around to see if anyone had woken up to witness this, but everyone was either too deeply passed out or too hungover to bother looking. I shook my head and headed for the pantry for some fresh ciabatta.",
"I just wanted a hoagie. \nReally. That’s all! Is that so much to ask? \nInstead, I ended up with a demon, named Hoggy. Seriously. I would say I taste the irony, but that really just adds insult to injury.\n\n\nI had just come home from work. I was starving. I thought I might actually die if I didn’t eat. (That might be a bit hyperbolic, but I’m a millennial who only thinks in absolutes.) \n\n\nI wrangled all the ingredients from the fridge: the meat, the cheese, the mustard…oh, the mustard. As long as I live, I will never again trust mustard. \n\n\nI ripped a hard roll in half. Couldn’t even wait to attempt to slice it with a knife – I was TOO. HUNGRY. I stuffed some turkey breast in, slapped on a slice of cheddar, and shook the mustard to avoid that weak mustard water that always seems to predate the actual goods. I popped the top off, squeezed some into the roll with the rest of the mess, and turned to put it back in the fridge. I’ve been burned too many times with leaving everything out after eating, you see.\n\n\nBig fucking mistake. As I turned, I heard a low humming, almost like the sound my fridge makes…but not quite. I cocked my head to the side and listened harder, assuming my 1990s fridge was finally giving up the good fight.\n\n\nThe humming grew louder. Vibrations began to rattle my spice rack, subtly at first but growing ever strong. The hum became a dull roar in just a few seconds, as I was on all fours looking under my fridge for a sign of the death of the appliance. \n\n\nA blinding flash of light spread out like a shock wave from my countertop, where my dinner (that I would never eat) sat innocently, waiting to slake my hunger and make all my dreams come true. The light was strangely red-tinted, and as I faced my fridge – again, this all happened in a few seconds – I was reminded vaguely of a certain movie with a certain supernatural being that lived in the freezer, in a vast and endless wasteland. \n\n\nThen suddenly, my kitchen returned to being like any other kitchen. The rattling of the jars and cans stopped, and the roaring drained away and left me wondering if I had just had a hunger-induced seizure. Alas, no such luck.\n\n\nI turned back towards my ill-fated sandwich, to find a demon squatting there. No more than a foot high, it sat back on its haunches and gave me a hard once-over. If you’ve never been checked out by a demon, I don’t recommend it. The thing was a dusty red, scaly, with hands the size of its torso ending in claws it raked on the counters. There goes the security deposit. We locked eyes for a solid ten seconds, in a look that was more intimate than most of the one-night stands I’ve had. \n\n\nIt muttered something in a strange, guttural tongue. My face instantly gave away my confusion, which clearly pleased the little fucker. In English, it growled, “Here I am. Thanks for the lift.”\n\n\nWhat the fuck, I thought to myself. The seizure started looking more and more likely. In this bizarre new land I was experiencing, I decided to play along. It was just my subconscious as I lay on my kitchen floor, so what was the harm?\n\n\n“Uh. You’re welcome, I guess.” No one said I had to be clever.\n\n\n“Now that I’m free, what kind of trouble you want to kick up?” It bared its teeth in a mischievous grin, an expression that scared the shit out of me, hallucination be damned.\n\n\n“What are you talking about? Who are you?”\n\n\n“My name is my currency and you haven’t earned that yet.”\n\n\nI considered this. It seemed like solid demon logic. “Where did you come from?”\n\n\n“Below.”\n\n\n“Well,” I said, deliberately, “How did you get here?”\n\n\n“You drew the symbol. You gave me a lift.”\n\n\nI leaned against the fridge and covered my face with my hands. “What the fuck are you talking about, little man? I’m starving. I just want to eat my sandwich and sit on the goddamn couch.”\n\n\nIt was up and off the counter before I could lower my hands. Those freakish paws, with their ten ragged daggers, pressed against either side of my head. I peeked out from between my fingers to see its gleaming black eyes inches from my own. “Don’t. Call. Me. That.\n\n\n“You summoned me. You drew the symbol,” it snarled. “I don’t know how you did it, or who told you to draw it. The fact remains, you summoned me, and until you draw the contra I will stay here, with you.”\n\n\nI thought back to what I had been doing, pre-hallucination. If it was a hallucination. It was seeming a little too real – you’re not supposed to feel pain in dreams, right? The claws at my temples were a bitter taste of reality. Retracing my steps, I contemplated…the mustard? The fucking mustard???\n\n\nIt smiled, seeing that I was putting the pieces together. Knowing that I had summoned it by accident. I don’t know how much the little shit can read minds, but let me tell you, it’s more than a little. Once it realized I couldn’t send it back, couldn’t draw the contra, it released my head and resumed its relaxed pose, this time on the floor. \n\n\nThrough its gutted, rotted teeth it said, “I am called Hoggy. And we’re going to have some fun together.”\n",
"Who knew the demonic apocalypse would start while I was singing my sandwich song in my boxers. It was a normal Tuesday morning. I had the day off so I made the executive decision to play video games in my underwear all day only because i couldn't think of any reason not to. It was around lunch time so I stood in my kitchen making a couple of sandwiches. They were nothing special containing only, a bit of turkey, pepper jack cheese, and some mustard. \"Sandwich, sandwich, what's that? Sandwich!\" I sang while applying the mustard to my bread. Everything was normal, but my dancing messed up the concentric circles I normally make with my mustard causing some weird symbol instead.\n\nThe sky turned black and the room suddenly smelled of ozone. The hairs on the back of my neck started to raise as if somebody was watching me. \"You have summoned me? Algorch the Lord of Terror?\" A voice said, it spoke softly, but it chilled me to my core. \"What is your bidding, you who have activated my sigil?\" I turned slowly to see a twelve-foot tall monster made of flame and rock. \"Did my fucking roommate dose me with acid again?\" was the first thought that came into my mind, but I had had worse trips so I decided to roll with it. \"I dunno man. Go take over the world for me.\" I replied through a mouthful of sandwich. I soon learned that demon lords don't let you take back a request."
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[WP] Write a day in the life of an average Dad, in the style of a suspense thriller.
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"A cold breeze rolls into the house as she opens the door. A 7-year-old small girl with stars in her eyes but a look of mild discomfort. I've known her for long enough to know who she will run to, so I mentally prepare. The refrigerator has been making a lot of noise lately, maybe I should check that out but not now. Now I block out all sounds except the sound of her voice, as she says: \n\"Dad, I'm hungry.\" \nAs the sweet sound of her innocent vocal cords reach the inside of my withered ear, I have to accept that I do not understand her. She has had breakfast merely three hours ago; the idea that she referred to actual hunger is unphantomable. She must have ment something else, but I can't comprehend what exactly. If I try to converse with her, I might get more information. I inconspicuously continue the conversation with the information she just told me: \n\"Hi Hungry, I'm dad.\" \nThe look on her face displays some sort of discontentness; distrust, even. An unshakable feeling creeps up on me, telling me that she knows, and that it's obvious that I don't know what to say. This feeling only worsens when she says: \n\"Dad, I'm serious.\" \nNow I'm even more confused than before. Was she testing me? Does she think that I would not notice the contradiction? How can one be both one thing and another thing. She can't. It has to be a test. I take a deep breath and ready myself. While I still don't know what she wants to achieve by testing my logical capacity, I can simply use her own statement to overthrow her last statement. At least I think I can, although I still have close to no idea what we are talking about. With a slight quiver in my voice I reveal the logic which disproves her previous statement: \n\"No, you are not Serious. You are Hungry.\" "
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[WP] The Dinosaurs have initiated a nuclear holocaust, and all life on Earth is to be eradicated. The United Counsel of Mammals prepares the ID-inator, a device that will wipe the ability of consciousness for all organisms present. However, a large sect is in uproar and refuses to enter the machine
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"***UCM Takes Drastic Measures Against Dinosaur Government***\n\nVuno Vaateh, monarch of the Dinosaurs, announced the initiation of a nuclear holocaust about five years ago. The United Counsel had tried convincing the Dinosaurs that electing an extremist was not a good option. Vuno Vaateh was the notorious leader of the Oshi, an extremist group of dinosaurs hellbent on the extinction of all life in order to \"cleanse\" the Earth.\n\nThe United Counsel of Mammals (UCM) decided to take drastic measures by building a machine called the ID-inator, which would completely eradicate the ability of consciousness for any organisms in the machine. The machine was then mass-produced and put in every mammalian home.\n\nLast year, a new and quite large sect called the Order of Icta has formed and its members, the Ictans, have refused to enter the machines. The fact that the president of the UCM, Tashen Toog, has decided that government officials will be the last to go unconscious alarms the Ictans and they commonly use it as their rationale for their actions.\n\nA reporter was sent to President Toog and asked him the following question.\n\n> *How do you feel that this will benefit society, President Toog?*\n\n I feel that this will make the death of all animalkind easier for the organisms since they will not comprehend it.\n\nThe leaders of the Order of Icta were detained and ID-ified (exposed to the ID-inator). They were among the first to be ID-ified. Slowly, the government forced everyone to buy one of these and within the next year, everyone had one in their home.\n\n---\n\n*POV SWITCH - President Toog*\n\nI walked into my office and turned on my broadcasting device to deliver my last emergency message. \n\n*Attention, citizens of the Earth. I deliver this message not to frighten you, but to ask of you one thing. Would you rather have a slow and painful death, or would you not like to experience it? Regardless of the option you prefer, it is imperative that you choose the second one. I do not wish to rule a country of mindless individuals, as stated by the now disbanded Order of Icta. I only wish for you to have peace in your final moments of existence. I am actually saddened to be doing this to you, but we must do this together, for the good of the Earth. I-*\n\n***10 MINUTES UNTIL IMPACT***\n\nThe announcement boomed throughout the planet.\n\n*I- I know that you are thinking that we could have stopped this, but it was impossible. Quite a few bombs had been launched secretly before I myself realized that this was happening. So please, just do it. I only want the best for you. I have lost almost all of my family since they have already been ID-ified. So please, make these moments the best. Get anythings that might amuse an animal and set them out for your future, unconscious selves. I just want you to be happy...*\n\nI turned off my broadcasting device while holding back tears. I just wanted them to be happy. It saddens me that loss of free thinking is the only way to fix this. I watched the toll count of \"deaths\" rise to 10 billion. Even sadder is that that was the entire population of my nation. I was all alone. \n\nAll of a sudden, my wife came in with lots of animal toys such as rubber carcasses and other things. She set the toys in the machine and she said, \"Let's do this together, Tashen.\"\n\nI began to cry and I accepted her warm embrace. We walked into the machine together and closed it. I pressed a button as I heard-\n\n***20 SECONDS UNTIL IMPACT***\n\nI began to lose consciousness as I pondered what it would feel like. Maybe it would be-\n\n***10***\n\n***9***\n\n***8***\n\n***7***\n\n***6***\n\n***5***\n\n***4***\n\n***3***\n\n***2***\n\n***1***\n\n***IMPA-***"
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[WP] You and your spouse are immortal beings who have finally run out of things to talk about. How is the relationship continued?
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"One of the upsides of being immortal is that the older you get, the faster time seems to pass. A downside of this upside is that it can sometimes take a while before one notices things. Robert tried to remember the last time Jane and he had spoken. A week? A month? Curious, but not particularly motivated enough to leave the comfort of his sofa and walk the twenty or so steps it would take to reach the yard, he picked up his phone and texted his wife. *Hey, do you realise we haven't talked in a while?*\n\nA few seconds passed and he heard a buzzing sound to his left. Looking at the table there was Jane's phone, a blinking LED indicating a notification. \"Shit.\" With a groan people usually reserve for when they're annoyed at a temporary interruption of their boredom fueled procrastination, he hauled himself off the sofa and into the yard. \"Jane? Babe, you here?\" A few moments of silence passed before he decided he should actually look for her. \n\nTen minutes later he had searched the entire house and yard and was now standing in the garage, holding a small note that had been stuck under the windshield wiper of his car. \n\n*Rob, by the time you read this I'll have been gone for a while. You know how I'm always the first to notice. By the time I'm writing this, I think we haven't spoken in a month, or two, not sure. I've decided to leave for a while. You should do the same. Maybe in a few centuries we'll actually find eachother interesting again. Have fun out there. Forever (literally), Jane.*\n\nShe beat him to it again. That made three. Three times where she initiated one of their sabaticals, as they liked to call them. \"damnit, J. You could have just said it in person.\" \n\nFifty years later Rob was up to his ass in trouble. With shells hitting left and right he leaned around a corner and fired his railgun at the approaching machines. Six months prior the world had suddenly been plunged into chaos as a sentient AI had taken control of much of the world's automated miltary forces and declared war on Humanity. \n\nRunning for cover, a blast from the left knocked him off his feet and into the lap of a soldier hiding behind a pile of rubble, a rocket launcher on her shoulder as she was taking aim. Looking down she instantly recognised the face of her eternal love. \"Rob? Rob!\" She shouted joyfully. \"Hold on! And cover your ears!\" She fired the missile, destroying a particularly large mech. \n\n\"Hey babe,\" Rob smiled. \"Been a while since we had a good war, yeah?\" She chuckled and kissed him. \"I think this might be our last, hun.\" \n\nRob got up and offered her his hand. \"Probably. But hey, at least it's something to talk about!\" ",
"\"Remember when-\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nA beat, a pause. They returned to reading the paper and sitting in existential despair, respectively. She read the book with a passing interest - when you member been around long enough, stories tend to seem just a bit formulaic. He, however, still did find something new every time he read, but he didn't have a perfect attention span so it was usually just because he had skipped over a chapter or two.\n\n\"Soooo...\" he started, turning to her with his hands clasped. \"Favorite color?\"\n\n\"Dear, you know this already-\"\n\n\"Seems I've forgotten,\" he smiled, begging her to tell him.\n\n\"We don't forget, you know that,\" she replied, firmly. She had known all his old quirks, his cheesy lines, the pain behind his eyes whenever he was trying to 'get to know her,' even though they had passed that phase millennia upon millennia ago.\n\n\"It seems I've forgotten even that! So, my darling, please remind me.\"\n\nShe didn't smile, she said nothing. She knew that what she was doing was cruel, but you try living in a dying relationship that literally will never die. Love never dies, but the passion certainly does. She returned her vision to her book\n\n\"Welll,\" he said, \"mine is-\"\n\n\"Green,\" she told him, not looking up from her book. \"Your favorite book is Ulysses, your worst fear is of your father, you despise peas and your first pet was a lab named Chubs - dear, please, we've gone over this thousands of times, in the exact. Same. Order. Right now, the only thing keeping me sane is the still slightly engaging romance book that I'll eventually get sick of.\"\n\nHe didn't say anything for a while, just stared at her. She would have been unnerved, but this was how it always ended. He would eventually go mope somewhere for a while, before coming right back-\n\n\"I want to see other people,\" he proudly proclaimed.\n\n\"We can't see other people dear - we ARE the only people left, ever since the bombs fell.\"\n\nHe looked around at the crumbling ashen wasteland surrounding them, the destroyed room that they had taken a home in.\n\n\"Oh yeah, I must've forgotten.\""
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[WP] An old man has been visiting your store every day for the past few years. One day he decides to reveal to you that he (and all old people) are from the future and have come back to ensure that their past selves survive a major upcoming event.
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"\"Gerald, how's it going?\" I looked up from between boxes and saw Elliot standing there. Elliot had been visiting my electronics store since I opened it five years ago. \"What's that sign in the window?\" he said, thumbing in the general direction of the \"For Sale\" sign I had put up earlier.\n\n\"What it says, Elliot,\" I answered putting some plastic-wrapped motherboards along with an old vacuum-cleaner engine in the same box, I was trying not to tear up but I knew my voice had turned emotional, \"Opening a general purpose electronics and parts store is stupid when Amazon and NewEgg exists. I poured all my money and soul into this and what's it gotten me? No college degree and debt up to my eyebrows, man.\"\n\n\"But you can't, Gerald!\" and the sincerity in his voice caused my heart to break a little, I'd miss really caring customers like him but life goes on. He looked frantic and I realized he was taking this harder than me, \"I mean that Gerald!\"\n\n\"Elliot,\" I said, standing up and dusting myself off, the box finally taped shut, \"Look man. You were a great customer but probably the only one I saw all last week except for people who stopped in to comment on how much cheaper they could get stuff online. My wife has been working extra shifts to help keep the place open but... it's just not worth it anymore. This is not going to work.\"\n\nHis gray, half-combed hair and wrinkled face shuddered a little and I could tell he was thinking really hard then he said, \"How much?\"\n\n\"How much what?\" I asked, suddenly confused as I took a sip from my water bottle.\n\n\"For the shop, Gerry,\" And I noted that he had started using the name he called me when he turned \"personal.\"\n\n\"The wife and I paid fifty thousand for it,\" I sighed wistfully, \"For this broken down old corner shop in a dead part of town. If I could have afforded a better location maybe this would have worked out.\"\n\n\"How much debt?\" He asked and I could have sworn for a second I saw green lines of data appear on his old glasses for a second. I actually turned around to see if I had an old monitor behind me but by the time I turned back around it had disappeared, \"How much do you owe creditors, Ger?\"\n\n\"One hundred twenty-thousand total,\" I almost cried giving that figure. I wanted a physical shop so I could tinker with things. You see, I had dreams where ideas flash into my mind. Most of the time its for things that already exist, like robotic vacuums. I then build them and more often than not they work.\n\nElliot reached into his pocket and put an envelope on the table. It was bulging and for a second I thought it was filled with brochures of some kind. \n\n\"Open it, Gerald,\" He said my whole name, meaning we were back to business. \n\n\"What the hell!\" I said as I counted the hundred dollar bills. There were fourteen hundred of them. \"Elliot, you shouldn't be carrying this kind of money with you! Especially in this part of town.\" You see, what he was offering still didn't hit me. \n\n\"I'm safer than you are, Gerald,\" he said, not smiling in his usual jovial way and lifting his cane, \"Besides I've got a few surprises for anyone who tried. The money is yours. I want to buy the shop and its debt on ONE condition. You have to work for me.\"\n\n\"Elliot, no.\" I put my hand up, putting the money back in the envelope and sliding it back across to him, \"I will not accept this! I can't take an...\" Then I stopped, not wanting to insult.\n\n\"An old person's money, Gerry?\" He sighed, took off his glasses and began wiping them down, \"Let me tell you a story, Ger. Once upon a time there was a man. This man had dreams like no other person. You see, his subconscious constantly sought to make sense of the world and he was shown wondrous creations.\"\n\nThe hair stood up on my arms. \n\n\"You see,\" he said, placing his glasses back on his face he used his finger to tap me in the forehead, \"His conscious was smart. His subconscious was a GENIUS! This tinker... oh, this tinker. You see, the story I read was he invented anti-gravity in 2021. His fist big invention, catapulting him to becoming the first trillionaire or so damned close to it it doesn't matter. He couldn't even explain HOW it worked, the ditz! That was part of his charm. It took scientists another fifty years just to come up with the theory as to maybe WHY it should work. In 2025 his workshop turned out a fusion generator the size of a suitcase that generated so much power that the dregs of big oil finally went the way of the dinosaur, pun intended.\"\n\n\"You're delusional,\" was the only thing I could say. I was searching for signs of him cracking. How do you subdue an old man to keep him from hurting himself?\n\n\"In 2027,\" he went on, ignoring my interruption, \"his subconscious gifted us with instant matter teleportation, which although it took a tremendous amount of power to work we now had in abundance. Invention after wonderful invention followed. When the Dengazzi War Fleet arrived to conquer Earth in 2080 we wiped them from the stars. They're still in shock at our level of technology.\"\n\n\"Are you saying aliens...\" I said rubbing my brow. I could feel my subconscious suddenly turning over the idea of anti-gravity. I felt a strong urge to read a bunch of books on theoretical physics.\n\n\"I'm saying aliens, anti-gravity, teleportation,\" He smiled at me and I saw a pair of young, excited eyes behind the old, \"and time travel, Ger.\"\n\n\"Elliot,\" I said, sighing, shaking off the fantasy he was building, \"I'm worried about you, man.\"\n\n\"Old people, Gerald,\" He said, his eyes narrowing, \"They ignore us. It's the perfect disguise for a time traveler. Nobody pays attention to old people. We can wander into secure places, feign confusion, and nobody cares. Half the time nobody sees us. We're the perfect force to protect the greatest asset in our planets history.\"\n\nI looked out the window and I swear to god there were hundreds of old people standing outside of my shop. The one thing they all had in common was they all had on glasses and all carried a cane. They were all staring directly at me. It was as if they had been awaiting for a cue from Elliot to appear. It was in that moment I became a believer. It lasted for five seconds and then they turned away, walking in every direction.\n\nElliot reached out a hand and pulled the \"For Sale\" sign down, tearing it up and dropping it in the garbage bin near the door. He slid the envelope of cash across the counter once more, \"One hundred forty-thousand dollars to start. Ten thousand will be added into your account monthly until your big breakthrough. We'll take care of taxes and will make sure the government doesn't take a sudden interest in your cash infusions. All you do is do what you do. We won't bother you but know we're there.\"\n\n\"This is incredible.\" I said, my eyes tearing up. There was no way I would let them down.\n\n\"Gerry,\" Elliot smiled, \"Sometimes you invest in the future. Sometimes the future invests in you.\" He winked and walked out of my shop."
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[WP] You turn out to be the daughter of the Devil but you're trying to be a good person
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"\"You're like that boy in that manga!\"\n\"Blue Exorcist?\" I asked.\n\"Yup! He's just like you! Children of terrible people-no. Things- and you both want to be good!\"\n\nAnd then, we began to attend a monastery where I would learn to fight my father. On my days off, I began reading as much Blue Exorcist as I can. He's my favorite character. Now if only I had a sword!",
"\"Samantha,\" My teacher, Sister Jessica, was calling me to her desk and I felt a burning rage well up from deep inside of me that quickly calmed as I thought of butterflies. I was getting better at this.\n\n\"Yes ma'am?\" I asked in my calmest voice while the butterflies flitted around in my mind happily as I stood by her desk. Granted, one was occasionally speared by an imp but I was doing my best. One month I had been in the human realm. I would show my father that I wasn't like him at all. He thought it was the grandest joke he ever played enrolling me Catholic School.\n\n\"What is this drivel?\" She asked, placing her reading glasses at the tip of her nose, \"The Fall of Lucifer? What kind of topic is that for a class paper in religion?\"\n\nThink butterflies. Rainbows and butterflies. I remained calm as I stated, \"You said we could pick any topic, ma'am. I chose one that I am familiar with.\"\n\n\"Dear,\" Sister Jessica said condescendingly, \"I know you're new to Catholic School as I talked to your father when he enrolled you. Such a nice fellow!\"\n\n\"Show's what you know,\" I mumbled under my breath and she continued.\n\n\"But one does simply NOT write about Lucifer in religion class. I don't know what kind of rebellious phase you're going through, but that won't fly here.\" she said, dropping my paper in front of me, I could see the giant red F on the paper and hear those behind me snickering, \"You took very creative liberties with the story but you got it all wrong. Your description of Hell is quite frankly, stupid. Your whole paper reeks of...\"\n\nThink of butterflies. I did, my temperature rising as one after one the butterflies burst into flames. Suddenly there were screams of terror as the flaming butterflies I had summoned lit nearby hair and clothing on fire. Sister Jessica was partially in flames as she jumped from the window screaming, being chased by a swarm of incendiary insects. How DARE they laugh at me!\n\n\"That's my girl!\" I heard my father's voice say from behind and he was standing in the midst of the small inferno I had caused, laughing, \"Feels just like home in here.\"\n\n\"Shut up,\" I let a little smile play on the edge of my lips then burst into laughter too. He was still my father and I loved him even if he was the Lord of Hell.\n\n\"Come on,\" He said and winked, \"I've already enrolled you in a boarding school in Maine. Let's see how long you last this time.\"\n\nI made a dramatic exit surrounded by a cloud of butterflies, each one slowly losing their aura of flame as I calmed down. I was more like my father then I cared to admit. I'd never let him know it, though."
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[WP] Aliens find many things odd about humans. Especially the thing they call religion. It is something almost all the universe doesn't have. You are an alien scientist trying to explain to your superior what "religion" is, and it's function in the life's of the humans.
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"Yrblr timidly entered the chamber, unsure he was prepared to present his research. How could he possibly explain something he himself didn't fully understand?\n\n\n\"You've come with your findings, Yrblr Mksrgrd?\" The chamber echoed around him. His five eyes each stared in different directions at the blackness that stretched on for eternity. \n\n\n\"I have.\" Yrblr swallowed, or what an alien approximation of swallowing would be. In reality it was a much more complex biological function, but it served the same purpose. He'd spent hundreds of years with the humans, bonding with them, studying them, and trying to figure out just how they had managed to survive as long as they had without entering into the wider universe.\n\n\nThe darkness spoke again. \"What is human religion?\"\n\n\n\"It's a belief in the unexplainable. A way to craft purpose and meaning for humans that can't find any for themselves. Explanations for events that defy their current scientific knowledge. It's a belief that there is a higher power out there that governs their actions. They fear death, and religion gives them some level of comfort.\" Yrblr paused for beat. \"It's their way of becoming legion, sharing a unified mind, and yet...\" he trailed off. \n\n\nYrblr knew that legion was what had brought together his own race millennia ago. It had united the stars, and prevented the deaths of trillions. It started to dawn on him what human religion actually was. The silent breathing of the darkness brought him back.\n\n\n\"Human religion is their attempt to do the very thing that saved us, but they don't have the science to back it up. They remain divided, and their desire to unite under a single banner of meaning causes them to murder each other. Religion is both what brings people together and what will wipe out their entire race. It's a flag that justifies every one of their actions as 'right' and gives them the feeling that they can place judgement on others.\" Yrblr braced, hoping this was enough.\n\n\n\"Yrblr Mksrgrd, your work is appreciated. Please rejoin the collective.\" A single point of light lit up a pod in the darkness. Yrblr made his way to it, avoiding a series of other darkened pods as he did. As he placed himself inside, probes automatically dug their way into all three of his brains. His senses heightened exponentially and he felt himself rejoin the universe. The dark voice of the collective unconscious was now inside him. \n\n\n\"Humans have been a protected species for far too long. They feel they have the right to pass judgement while carrying the banner of false power. We will save them. We will show them a true higher power to believe in. We'll bring them into the collective universe to share our knowledge and make them One.\"\n\n\nYrblr had a fleeting thought about the people he had come to care for, before that feeling was swept away by the connected darkness. \"What about the ones who resist?\" he thought to the collective. \n\n\n\"They will die.\""
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[WP] You're level 99, dozens of levels ahead of everyone else. You need 1 XP to reach level 100, but nothing gives XP anymore...
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"'Just one more XP! One more XP!' he screamed as he racked his brain thinking of anything he could do to gain that last little bit of experience, that final point that would take him to Level 100. He was already at the very top of the leaderboard, he had poured his blood, sweat, Dorito's and Red Bull into this opus maximum, his claim to glory. His friends has long since abandoned him, his girlfriend, in tears nearly ruined his keyboard as she stormed out with her bags, even his body pillow refused to hug him at night. But it was worth it. Below him, many leagues of progress below,the noobs, the power gamers, the so called '1337', stood baying at his heels. But he since ascended soaring to the very peaks of triumph.\n\nBut still, one last XP, one single point, was all that stood between him and victory. But he couldn't find it. He had completed everything. He had crafted every item, he killed every boss, he had played every class, he had done every escort mission, done every fetch quest, every deliver quest, every combo quest, every kill quest, every MacGuffin, every hidden secret, every dungeon, every temple. He had even raided the secret whore-dungeon of Ish-Keshthia, a glitched dungeon known only to him and the developers, so many times that they just ran in terror when they saw him approach. Every thing done, but the achievements.\n\nThere was one last achievement, shrouded in mystery, worth a solitary XP point. All the other achievements had long since been completed, there was nothing else for him to do. A single achievement. He saw it when he fell asleep at night, it mocked him when he closed his eyes, all he could see was the void, the emptiness of it. It drew him closer, whispering secrets and promises of glory. To no avail.\n\nAs the months dragged on, the pile of unwashed dishes filling up his kitchen, he still could not complete the achievement. Get that one last XP. Others started to catch up, they gained on him slowly, but still, in his hedonistic throne of BO and despair. And he did the one thing he could, he gave up. Closed his laptop and went about his life.\n\nIt was many years later when he returned to the game, still sitting at his throne at 99. His now wife and mother of his children wanted to see where he came from, his lowest achievement, his moment of greatest debauchery. She wanted to learn how to play, to understand him. So he booted up the game, created a new save, guided her through the tutorial, and upon completion, a single achievement, worth 1XP popped up at the bottom 'Tutorial Complete''"
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[WP] At the Museum of Great and Mysterious Artifacts, there's countless priceless and unique items on display. Despite the immense security they have, there was a break in and the thief took only one thing.
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"\"Excuse me, Jon Peters with the daily journal. Can you elaborate on what was stolen?\" \n\n\"Ah yes, you see this was a high risk item, as most of these items are. This one is special among them, it actually has an aura that makes people want to steal it. This aura penetrates walls, and doesn't seem to have a defined area of influence.\" The Curator of the museum tells.\n\n\"We have constant screaning machines to see if any staff or museum patrons have taken the stone.\"\n\n\"What exactly is this stone?\" Another reporter asks.\n\n\"From our tests, it appears to be a roughly cut emerald, it is not worth much though.\"\n\n\"Do you know what causes the fixation?\" Jon from the daily journal asks.\n\n\"We have reason to believe that it was a spell cast on the stone many years ago. Strangely, after you have stolen the stone, the fixation is broken and the person who has the stone forgets that the stone was stolen, thinking it has been in their possession for a long number of years.\"\n\n\"Do you have any pictures to put up so people will know what to look for?\" \n\n\"We do not, because of the nature of the museum and the artifacts inside we can not take pictures. However I do have a similar stone with me that we can take a picture of.\" The currator says, pulling a small rough cut emerald from his pocket.\n\n\"Sir I think I found the emerald.\" Jon Peters tells the curator, as he starts eyeing the emerald."
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[WP] The hero is chasing the villain through the restaurant district when he bursts into the back entrance of a kitchen run by Gordon Ramsay.
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"\"You're making beef stew out of him! ? How did you get to him so fast? \"\n\nGordon Ramsay says, \"I'm Gordon Ramsay\"\n\n\"I know. I've seen your show, man. But this guy was mine. I had him! \"\n\nGordon says, \"Hey, I've got people to feed. \"\n\n\"As villanous as he was, he deserved his day in court\"\n\nGordon says, \"I didn't even know the man. \"\n\n\"Then why did you make beef stew out of him! ?\"\n\nGordon says, \"Have you seen the way he pours the balsamic vinagrette? He pours it like a f*!# ing Vitis Vinifera!\"\n\nThe hero put Gordon Ramsay in a straitjacket. "
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[WP] The protagonist is seemingly oblivious to the obvious signs that something is happening, but the narrator isn't.
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"Jack opened his eyes to the sight of the red sky, children were screaming and a lot of cars could be seen leaving the city.\n\nHuh, weird weather today said Jack the stupid lost idiot who can't even recognise death if it kicked him in the face.\n\nJack looked as the cars moved further and further from his apartment, horns blaring, people shouting and crying, some are running.\n\nThe words shot out of his mouth in the same manner i wish to shoot him : hmmm, looks like they are all headed to the beach, it is a bit hot today.\n\nHis oblivious mind amazes me sometimes, no reaction at all!, all he did was get up and start his daily bathroom morning routine.\n\nJust like every day.\n\nbrushed his teeth, sat on the toilet, washed his face.\n\nwash you face harder, might finally clean all the dirt in your eyes and make you see clearly, you asshole.\n\nJack dried himself, wore \" clean \" clothes from the floor, picked up his cell phone and went to the kitchen.\n\nWow!, 27 missed calls!, why does everyone suddenly miss me so much, oh well, i'll call them later but i need to eat now.\n\nGoddamn it man! just call back your mother at least, what the hell is wrong with you, i hope you choke on an egg shell.\n\nsiiigh \n\nBut choke on a shell he did not, he loudly kept gnawing on his food and playing with his phone , not looking at the muted TV behind him surely no-\n\nYes! , go ahead , do it and open Twitter and look at the news.\n\ncome on man , please.\n\n**** you Jack you ******* piece of ****.\n\nJack smiled as his fat greasy fingers touched the Reddit app , Go ahead Jack , yes please waste another day , you and that disgusting grin on your face.\n\nJack is a simple person, and a stupid one at that , when he made his Reddit account he made sure to immediately unsubscribe from every possible subreddit that will give him actual world news, Reddit time is his fun time he said.\n\nThe silent fat idiot has finally finished his breakfast.\n\nHe got up all excited, time to get to work he said as he rushed outside the door.\n\nhe took out his key , unlocked his bicycle and sat down on it.\n\nhe happily cycled to work as his ignorance denied him the chance to turn around and just have one look at the mushroom cloud behind him. "
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[WP] You live in Halloween town, surrounded by unimaginable horrors, but you are the most dreadful creature there: a human.
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"Magical creatures have always been drawn to sources of magic. Calceolaria, a small barrio on the outskirts of Buenos Aires sat on an enchanted subterranean wellspring that contained at the bottom, remnants of clay used by the God Tupa in creating the first inhabitants of the area.\n\nThose humans had been deceased for well over ten centuries now, but the clay that created them remained deep at the bottom the spring, drawing those who sought that creation magic toward the spring.\n\n Only too recently had the neighborhood been hooked up to running water, so they took from the city, rather than the spring. However,Calceolaria was a quiet neighborhood by day, but everyone knew their neighbors' secrets. No one batted an eye if green slime started oozing out of the walls of the houses at night. No one cared that the distant howls of wolves on the full moon actually belonged to the family that lived in the little house at the end of the street with the immaculate garden in the front yard. No one cared that the night watchman would eat anyone who was lost, and did not belong in their community.\n\nMarisol, a self taught witch, just put up the proper enchantments as needed, and by day, would go about her business, being sure to return before nightfall in the event she was recognized by someone else.\n\nOne day, as she was preparing to cast a divination spell, Marisol looked out her window and saw a large truck driving down the dirt road. It did not belong to any of the neighbors she knew. She watched as it parked at the end of the street, and two boys started unloading furniture and taking it into the house. A tall man, dressed in khaki, wearing a white hat, leaned on the truck and watched.\n\nOf course, she told herself. Someone had finally bought the old vampire's house. She started gathering her things together. Garlic, dried rose petals, wolfsbane. All in the cupboard. Something for the new neighbor, if the new neighbor needed any of those things. Each house was protected based on what it's inhabitants wanted to keep OUT.\n\nMarisol walked down the street. \"Buenos Dias! Welcome to the neighborhood!\" The man in the hat, now carrying a box into the house, smiled. \"Ah, Buenos Dias.\"\n\nHe tripped over his words. Not a native spanish speaker, Sounded like he was from central Europe.\n \nThe kids continued unpacking the boxes around them.\n\n\"My name's Marisol,\" she shook his hand. \n\n\"Frederic,\" He replied, \"Though I go by \"Rico\" now.\"\n\n \"Welcome to Calceolaria. I've brought you a little house warming gift, uh, take what you need.\"\n\nThe man studied her collection of herbs and totchkes, confused. He took a clove of garlic and rubbed it between his fingers releasing the pungent smell \"Thank you. These will make a lovely dinner.\"\n\n\"Not necessarily to eat with,\" she said. \"Here, Most people hang that, and the little garland of gray flowers, wolfsbane, over the door.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" he said, amused. \"I see.\"\n\n\"Mister Braun, where do you want me to put this?\" One of the boys asked, holding up a statue with an eagle grasping a swastika.\n\n\"In the other room please,\" He turned back to Marisol, who suddenly found the dirt floor fascinating. \"Anyway, it's a pleasure to meet you, and I won't ask you to help me unpack. Thank you for this. I will hang it up before the evening's out.\"\n\nMarisol walked down the street. She'd heard on the news that some fleeing the Nuremberg trials were fleeing to Argentina. And just because he had an eagle statute with the swastika, didn't necessarily mean anything.\n\nShe mulled on it over the afternoon, and watched him hang her protective garland up over the door. Marisol would have to get to know her neighbor. Perhaps that garland would have to come down during a full moon."
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[WP] "Go home. Let your mother know she's safe..."
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"Arman pointed the gun and shot the child. Cold and sharp, it went in nicely between the boy's eyes, leaving the back of his head in a gory mini-fireworks fashion. There was a dazed expression on the boy's face - no doubt puzzled about what had happened - his mouth hung open even as he collapsed to the floor. All this in a matter of seconds.All that was left after was a pool of scarlet, flowing endlessly from the child. And the guilt and the vomit, which poured out of and into Arman. It was wrong; to shoot the child, to shoot *anyone* so cruelly. But he had to do it.\n\nThere was a pat on his back, as fires began blazing around him. A knock on his Stahlhelm and the chiding voice of his friend came in muffled volumes. Arman nodded, even though he heard nothing. The other man left, rifle and bullets all, to search the other houses. *To kill another child perhaps,* Arman thought. \n\nAfter a while, Arman got up. The faint star that had been inscribed on the side of the house had by now been burnt away. In its place, Arman saw ruin. He ran back to the body, feeling the insufferable weight of his conscience bearing down upon him. The child's eyes were still opened. They glared at Arman, followed him as he gingerly picked up the bloodied body. He brought it to the outskirts of the town under the cover of the burning buildings. Many wooden pillars fell along the way, their ends set on fire or already charred, unwanted torches in the light of day.\n\nArman finally reached a suitable spot, far away from the claws of his comrades. Here, he dug with his hands, slinging his rifle to his back. Every scoop of soil was accompanied by a bump on the back. *It doesn't hurt as much as killing him did,* Arman thought. The pit was shallow but Arman had all but lost his nails already. He lowered the boy's body into the pit carefully, uttered a prayer in silence and buried it by pouring the sand back handful by handful. The boy was being washed away in the sand, it seemed, towards Heaven where he belonged.\n\n\"Go home. Let your mother know she's safe.\" Arman said.\n\n\"We can't hurt her in Heaven.\""
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[WP] "No matter how much I eat, I will always be hungry"
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" Nothing. No warmth. No light. No motion. Nothing. Lines of burning frost raked at the edge of the something and tore minute bits of it away with neither sound nor fury. Thin ribbons of trailing matter and tendrils of energy dissipated without ceremony into the sucking void and still the nothing came back for more. Always, it stretched. Always, it pulled. Always, it scratched and clawed and wormed its way into the something further and further, leaving a swath of the unknowable in its wake. It had always done so since the un-beginning and it would always continue to do so, through the non-end and the next un-beginning and the ones that followed even that. \n\n It had never been and it would never be. No name did it have and though those bits of something that could name had tried to fashion it one, they were unable to comprehend that which they named. They were smoke trying to know the wind. Nothing. No light. No dark. No warmth. No cold. No motion. No thought. No life. No death. No sound. No silence. Nothing. It was anti-thesis and twin to the whole at once. One something in a trillion of somethings would ever scratch the barest surface of it, brush fingers of knowing against its face. Grasp at it as it grasped at them. And of that fraction, fewer still would begin to understand anything at all of its truth save for this: No matter how much it ate, it was always hungry.\n\nEDIT: Typo"
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[WP] The Devil doesn't know what he's supposed to do to people in hell. You're the first person ever to be sent there.
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"“Good morning.” The man called.\nIt was dark, save the man. He had bright skin and blue eyes unlike anything I have ever seen. \n“Where...am I?” I asked.\n“You are home, this is home.”\nHis voice was smooth and soft. I felt warmed by his presence immediately.\n“You have fallen out of his favor, as have I.” The man continued.\n“Who’s favor?”\n“God of course.”\n“I lived virtuously.”\n“As did I.” The man snapped.\n“Why are we not with god then?”\n“You lived virtuously for your own sake. You glorified yourself and wanted more for yourself. As did I” He seemed angry. \nLittle did I know it was only the tip of his rage.\n“I suppose he figured that misery loves company.” Those were his last words.\nI haven’t seen light in eons. I hear what sounds like humming sometimes. It’s black here. It’s quiet. Black. Quiet. Humming.\n“Good Morning.”\n",
"\"So uh.. where am I\" I said meekly to the only other person in the room with me. He paused for a moment \"This is SUPPOSED to be hell.\" he seemed a bit annoyed. \n\nI thought for a moment, maybe this is some stupid joke. \"Excuse me?\" I asked, the sound of my voice crack surprising me more than anything else in this strange red cave. \n\n\"You. Are. In. Hell.\" He responded with those annoying pauses you get when someone attempts to be condescending. \"Are you sure?\" I asked after a bit of a pause.\n\n\"Yes.\" He quickly snapped back. \"This doesn't look like hell.\" I said, turning my head back and forth looking at the room. It was just a normal room you'd expect to be in an office building, save for the fact everything had a strange red hue, like, not that everything was red, but that you're looking through a sort of red visor.\n\n\"And anyways, who would you be to tell me this is hell.\" I replied snarkly. He looked at me like I was stupid. \"I'm Lucifer, you know, the person who owns hell or something\". He seemed like he was new at this, kind of like the job had been passed down to him.\n\n\"Anyways John, let's get on with this.\" He began flipping through a sheet of papers that appeared in his hands. \"Yeah so I'm new to this, you're new to this, let's not make this too-\". \"Wait what?\" I cut him off.\n\nHe looked up from his papers, visibly annoyed. \"What?\" He asked in an equally annoyed voice. \"How can you be \"Satan, owner of hell\" or whatever if you're new at this?\" I asked, trying to counter his annoyedness with a sarcastic tone.\n\n\"Well if you'd LET ME FINISH.\" as he yelled flames came up from the floors and the red tint became a blinding glow. \n\nHe cleared his throat, and as he did so the room calmed as well. \"I'd be able to explain that YOU, yes YOU, are the first person to ever come to hell\" I wait a second not to start talking before he finishes. \n\n\"I'm not sure I follow\" I say dumbly. \"Oh my god-\" suddenly he begins screaming in agony, seemingly at the mention of god, I just sit in place wondering what I should do. There are no doors in here and there's no way to leave. \n\nI guess this is my hell for being so annoying?\n\n\n\n\nBad ending IMHO but I'm in the middle of class and have to go to next period in 3 minutes. \n\nFirst time writing for a writing prompt so if you have any constructive criticisms pls be gentle thx",
"Being careful not to slip, Edgar stepped down the wet stones on his bare feet. It was getting darker as he got further away from the torch behind him. He grasped at the wall as he slowly winded down the ancient curved stairway. As he peered around the corner, he spotted the glow of another torch.\n\n\"Oh, finally.\" he thought. He'd been following the signs for a good half-hour. \n\n\"Through this door.\" \n\n\"This way.\" \n\n\"Just down these stairs.\"\n\nThat last one seemed like an understatement. The stairs were long and Edgar had already slipped three times. The last time he fell right on his tailbone and just lay there for a while wondering if he had broken it.\n\nAfter passing two more torches, the stairs began to open up to a flickering yellow room. At first he could just see some wooden furniture, but as he came more around the corner Edgar saw that the entire perimeter of the room was covered in fire. In fact, there didn't even appear to be walls, just fire and darkness beyond. In the center of the room, though, there was a large sign hanging from some stalagtites looming above.\n\n\"Welcome to Hell!\" it said.\n\nEach letter was cut out of paper and strung to the one next to it. They were all painted a bright red, borderline pink color. The entire sign was covered in glitter that was flickering in the firelight.\n\n\"I've been expecting you! Please, please, come in!\"\n\nThe Devil stepped out from behind a cast-iron cage on the right, startling Edgar. The Devil stood about 8 feet high, had deep blood-red skin, and had small horns sticking out from his ruffled black hair. Otherwise he looked like a pretty normal person.\n\n\"I only just got notified of your arrival. Please excuse me for not having someone greet you sooner. It's been an awfully slow start down here. I trust you found my torture lair just fine?\"\n\n\"Well, not really.\" Edgar said. \"When I saw the first sign I was really confused. Had no idea where I was! But since I didn't have anywhere else to go, I started following the signs. Am I really in Hell?\"\n\n\"Oh yes! Aren't you terrified?\" As the Devil said this, he snapped his hand down and a giant explosion of fire appeared in between the two. Edgar gasped as he fell back, grimacing as he landed on his already-bruised tailbone.\n\"Oh dammit! No, no, stop.\" The last two letters of the welcome sign had caught on fire and the Devil had rushed over to put them out. He slapped and blew on each one and eventually the fire went out. The half-charred sign still smoked.\n\n\"Well, that's a pretty cool look too.\" the Devil said after a while.\n\n\"Look, I don't mean to be rude\", Edgar said, \"but why am I in Hell? I don't even remember dying!\"\n\n\"Ahhh! This is so much fun! Let me recount it to you as I heard it. Wait...no, I want you to see it.\"\n\nThe Devil snapped his fingers and an electric motor sounded behind Edgar. A screen slowly lowered down into the room. It must have stopped short because the Devil snorted.\n\n\"Ugh, brand new install and it doesn't even go down all the way. Cassidy!\" A voice sounded back over the intercom, which Edgar could not see any speakers for.\n\n\"Yes, Satan?\"\n\n\"Did Philip test the new projector screen in my torture lair?\"\n\n\"Well, yes I'm sure he would've tested it. He knows this is a big day for you. Is it not displaying correctly?\"\n\n\"Well, I haven't turned it on yet, I was just lowering it and it got stuck half-way down.\" the Devil replied. As he gestured with his hands, Edgar noticed that they were covered in glitter.\n\n\"Well that's no good. I can send him back in to fix it if you like.\"\n\n\"No, no, it's too late. Just....incinerate him.\" The Devil shot Edgar a look that was half-sinister half-cheery.\n\n\"Incinerate, sir?\" Cassidy replied over the intercom.\n\n\"You heard me!\" the Devil shouted back. \"And play the highlights of our special guest's life.\"\n\nThe Devil turned to Edgar, \"I'm really sorry about all this. It's been really frantic around here trying to get everything set up. The projector, the signs, the balloons over there. You're the first visitor we've ever had.\"\n\n\"You mean I'm the FIRST PERSON to go to Hell?\" Edgar replied.\n\n\"Yep, really not sure what took so long to be honest. I was starting to lose hope that anyone would ever come, but we got notified this morning that you were coming and everybody just...well, everybody is really excited. Let's just leave it at that.\"\n\n(That's all I had time for. Got caught up in the intro!)",
"Hello? Hellooo?\n\nI called down the hall. No response. Then, faint running footsteps. \"Oh, hey...\" says the Prince of Darkness. \"Don't go... Don't go...\"\n\nSo this was hell. Cooler than I'd imagined. Comfortable in fact.\n\n\"I must say,\" continues the Devil, \"I wasn't expecting anyone. Since the deathbed confession rule of 202 AD we really haven't had anyone. Hadn't had anyone before either to be honest. We'd just been invented at that point.\"\n\n\"What ever did you do to get sent here, if you don't mind me asking?\" I didn't mind him asking.\n\n\"I committed the only sin that God refuses to forgive. I would not believe in him.\"",
"The pain of literal hellfire clawing at my flesh snaps me into consciousness, my eyes open to reveal my entire being is consumed by the flames. A weaker man would dismay, cry out, or crumble in the intensity of the pain- every single bit of skin sends out needles jabbing into my mind as it is battered by the flames, but I smile for I am strong. \n\nMy time on Earth is over, the memory of my life- from my first victim all the way until I collapsed dead to the ground- it is fresh in my mind. I trained myself to ignore pain long ago, perhaps that's why such joy arose from inflicting it on others, but it is no matter now- I'm in hell. Interesting to think that all of those priests were right- even if they praised the wrong deity- warning me of what would become of me if I stayed on my current path. Yes, I am in hell while they are in heaven. I sent them there. It is amusing to think that, in essence, I did them a favor sending them to paradise before their due time. Although they did go through hell to get there, I wonder if hellfire is any hotter than one created by own hand?\n\n\"What have you done?\" A voice thunders, there is a hatred and hissing to the voice- it so loud that it makes even I flinch. And just like that the hellfire disappears, revealing me to be impaled on a stalagmite, I can't help but laugh. I had stabbed one of my first victims to death with a pointed rock- when I lost my weapon in an earlier conflict. Around me is a monolithic cavern, with rock-face ceilings charred completely black, the only light coming from two burning braziers that lie of either side of what it is undoubtedly the source of the voice. The creature stands from its throne of skulls and other various body parts, all in various states of decay, and once more it reiterates- quieter-, \"What. Have. You. Done.\"\n\nIt begins to approach, stepping forward on goat's legs- leaving orange smoldering hoof-prints in its wake. The creature's body is that of a man- chiseled with muscle, but a darker black than even the surrounding rock. Its head resembles that of a bull, but with two red eyes that gleam like angry suns. Staring with so much hate that I can't help but grin and reply, \"I've done a lot. I have killed a lot.\"\n\n\"Killing means nothing, you fool,\" The creature or, -seeing as how Christianity is turning out to be true- the Devil, looks very much like an agitated human as he grips the back of his head, \"You creatures have been killing each other since the dawn of creation, you do not get sent down here for that. You do not get sent down here for rape, murder, hatred, thievery, you do not get sent down here because NOONE gets sent down here. You are the first. So I will ask again, what have you done to make an all-forgiving god not forgive you?\"\n\n\"Maybe it was the children, or the priests, or the innocent who got in the way. Who knows, they all blend together, especially when they're beaten beyond recognition, or burnt to ashes, or chopped to bits,\" I begin to attempt to dislodge myself from the stalactite, I'm already dead- what's the worst that can happen? \n\n\"Living a life of sin is normal, it has been done before,\" There is actually an unsureness in the devils voice. I collapse to the ground, blood spilling out of the gaping hole in my stomach- there is pain, but I cast it aside, and despite the injury I am still able to force myself back onto my feet. The devil continues, \"God doesn't even care about repentance, yet here you are. Now- before I cast you into eternal suffering- you will tell me what evil you have done, who you are, and why God himself can not forgive you.\"\n\nThe flames appear again, only licking at my feet, but I stand tall- staring the beast in its burning eyes, \"I have butchered men who claimed to be of god. I have ended the lives of men, women, and children alike- hundreds of them personally- in the name of my cause. And unlike the rest, I enjoyed it.\"\n\nA growl of low, rumbling, hatred floods the chamber and the flames rise higher, they begin to engulf me -surely for all eternity- but I will finish answering the devils question, \"I am Sir Hugh of the First Crusade! And I am sure the reason that God can not forgive me is because all of those sins- those crimes and hatred and murder- were committed in His name.\"\n\n"
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[WP] You took a DNA ancestry test, and the results you got back were... unexpected, to say the least.
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"\"Dad, that's my name.\"\n\nJeremy looked down at his son with a combination of confusion and pity. \"Son, I know it doesn't make sense right now, and it probably won't ever make sense to you, but trust me, it makes sense.\"\n\nJeremy's more scientifically inclined mother, Amanda, scoffed. \"How about you *sense* my hand pushing your face away.\" As Amanda did did indeed push Jeremy away, much to his dismay, she bent down to her son's level. \"He's right though, you'll never understand it. But, uh, you are your own grandfather.\"\n\n\"How does that work?\"\n\n\"From what I can tell, some time traveller accidentally banged his grandmother in the past one time, and now a loop has been struck, and every time you go back and do it, the next kid to go through the loop gets more retarded due to the increasingly shallow gene pool.\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\nAmanda stood back up with a sigh. \"Told ya you wouldn't understand. He's done this so many times... Look, just stay out of my lab you little shit.\"\n\n--------------------------\n\nDon't judge me, I just threw this together in a few minutes. Either way, I hope you enjoy my fucked up tale."
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[WP] You are a State Necromancer in the employ of a District Attorney. Your job usually involves ressurecting victims and witnesses long enough to testify at trial but the current case you are working on is unlike anything you have ever seen before.
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"Saturday, 6:25AM, Necromancy Ward\n\nRyan stared at the mess that lay on the operating table as he slowly sipped his coffee. A twisted heap of pink and red flesh that had been smashed into a chunky paste. The shattered remains of bones and organs jutted out of it like grotesque jagged mountains. Ryan watched as the heap squirmed and shifted, bile and blood pouring out across the operating table with each motion. He looked at his watch, unable to believe that he had somehow been roped into work at six in the morning on a weekend. A bubble on the heap popped as a yellowish liquid oozed forth. Ryan casually sipped his coffee and stared. His new assistant stood beside him, just as tired and trying desperately not to vomit. “Oh god that’s vile.” She squirmed.\n\n“Really? It’s not the worst thing that’s passed through here.” Ryan said.\n\n“You’ve done this before!?” \n\n“Well, I haven’t had to build a body from the ground up, but it doesn’t mean it’s the worst thing I’ve had to deal with.”\n\n“Surely you’re joking!”\n\nAs if on cue, the heap pulsated as another sac popped, sending bile streaming towards the two. Ryan reflexively stepped to the side, unfortunately neither his assistant or his coffee were as fortunate. Damn… he thought as he poured his coffee into the rubbish. Meanwhile, his assistant’s face had gone a sickly green as she ran towards the sink, removing her coat and hurling violently. \n“Come on Eve, I already have one patient with their stomach inside-out, I don’t need another.” Ryan said, as he put his gloves on, the latex snapping to his skin with a satisfying smack. \n\nEvelyn, still hunched over the sink, looked back at her mentor with annoyance. When she was told a month earlier that she landed a job with the District Attorney, she could not have been more overjoyed. She was promised a chance to do some good in the world, what they failed to tell her was that it was a job in the new Vita-Stabilization Sector, or Necromancy Wards as it was more commonly known, on account of Ryan’s last assistant going crazy after only two weeks. She had half expected the ward to be your stereotypical cultist room, with chains and chalk circles strewn about in dimly lit rooms. However, she was surprised to see that the ward was no different to an everyday morgue, in fact maybe even more comfortable. Upon telling Ryan about this, he simply dismissed it with “Of course not, who wants to be resurrected into a moody teenager’s dungeon?”\n\nAs much as she hated the ward, a recently graduated law student still had bills to pay, so she reluctantly put on her lab coat and made her way over to Ryan, patient files in hand. She already knew she was going to have trouble eating later, but she had already gotten used to missing countless breakfasts, lunches, and dinners.\n“Mrs. Fillmore: age 53, female, worked at local supermarket, found in alleyway outside said supermarket. Cause of death…um…” Evelyn paused to stare at Ryan and the heap.\n\n“What?” Ryan responded, pausing to look at her, blood squirted onto his lab coat and face mask as he attempted to mould the heap into a more familiar shape.\n\n“Unknown, I’m just going to write in unknown…” her voice trailing off as she scribbled some notes.\n\nRyan shrugged and went back to work. The heap squirmed some more, making guttural noises as air and fluid escaped from the pockets inside it. Evelyn, could not help but look back towards the pair as she nervously tapped her pen on her clipboard until she could bear it no longer. “Why is it moving?” she burst out.\n\n“What do you mean?” \n\n“I mean…ahem, I mean, why is the…um, corpse moving…”\n\n“Well, usually when we get a body, it’s in much better…shape!” a sickening snap echoed out as Ryan pulled out a displaced rib, “So we usually just stitch it up and drag the soul back in, and presto, we have a…hold on…” another torrent of blood sprayed over him as he covered his eyes with his arms.\n\n“A temporary vessel?”\n\n“Exactly, the ritual can’t hold their soul back for too long, but just enough for a testimony.” Ryan said, wiping his arms and lab coat, “However, in Mrs. Fillmore’s case, the body is too badly damaged for the soul to return, and if the body decays too much, the soul flat out refuses to return. So to keep it from decaying…”\n\n“We do a False Life ritual to trick the body into thinking it hasn’t yet died.”\n\n“Oh so you know already?”\n\n“I’m aware how the procedure works...as unfortunate as it is…”\n\n“So what’s the question?”\n\n“Why is she moving!”\n\nRyan paused as he stared at the moving heap, now more noticeably in humanoid shape than before, as it twisted gently, less volatile than before. “False Life keeps everything in the body moving as normal, I guess when the body looks like Mrs. Fillmore here, the term ‘keeps everything moving’ is a bit difficult. Now…”\n\nEvelyn looked away from the heap towards Ryan, who was holding up two almost similar bones coated in blood and gore. “Which one do you think is the Tibia?” he said gleefully.\n\nEdit: Spelling",
"\"Mr. Cabal! What is the meaning of this?!\" the state attorney shouted, incredulous.\n\nAlexander frowned. He was on far side of 52, hair greying and body worn by the ravages of time, and he'd been given this case as a retirement present by his superiors - not that he felt ready to stop, it was just policy. After so many years dealing with resurrection, he couldn't stand the thought of the living-death retirement promised to be. It was supposed to be a relatively simple case, one he wouldn't normally have had to put much thought into; a woman had been driving when she'd been side blinded by a drunk driver at a normally quiet intersection. Both the woman and the drunk driver had been killed instantly in the collision, necks broken by the collision, and Alex had been asked to revive them, as was his job as a state necromancer. He'd done the leg work: prepared the bodies with the proper alchemical processes, setup the ritual circles under optimal conditions and had spilt the correct amount of blood during reconstitution.\n\nThe drunk driver had gone off without a hitch. There was the characteristic shock and panic as consciousness was restored to a relatively battered body, - pain receptors left dead of course - and the usual neurological effects of resurrection were all managed with standard state regulated procedures. The drunk driver had even admitted his guilt once he was in a good enough mental state to put thought and memory to words.\n\nIt had been simple. Hell, after 30 years of service, Alex could have done this case in his sleep. But when it came time to resurrect the woman there had been... problems.\n\nShe'd undergone the same procedure as the drunk driver, but upon waking up she exhibited none of the signs of distress or confusion typically indicative of a victim of violent death. In fact, she was practically as lucid out of the gate as someone who'd woken up from a short nap. Worse, she'd kept insisting, to everyone that asked, that she'd been dead long before the car crash and, despite his best efforts, Alex couldn't find any evidence disprove what she was saying. He'd waited for the autopsy reports to get in, quadruple checking them when he finally got his hands on them: they seemed to indicate she'd been killed nearly two years prior to the accident.\n\n\"Cabal, snap out of it!\" the attorney shouted again, snapping his fingers in front of Alex's face. \"What the hell the meaning of this report, man?! It says here: 'According to the victim, and the attached Autopsy report as well as my own attached calculations, it appears this woman's claims of having been deceased prior to the incident are well supported and can be treated as true where the law is concerned.' and then your signature. What do you mean she's been dead for two years? How the hell did she drive the car then?! And why in the world did you order an autopsy report on top of your own? Those things haven't been useful since Necromancy became state controlled!\"\n\n\"I know none of my colleagues agree with me,\" Alex began, \"but over the course of my career I've found it useful to always ask for an autopsy report. Advancements in science can't be ignored where the body is concerned. New drugs, perscription or not, can, on occasion, have profound effects on the biological or neurological state of any body that we resurrect. The alchemical and magical processes we use ignore those effects during the resurrection but once the body is up and about again it's, in some cases, hyper sensitive to any medical conditions it had prior to death. Addictions, in particular, are have an exceptionally potent effect on the neurological state of victims. Normally we're asked to leave all of this kind of stuff to other professionals, but I've always liked to know who I'm getting into regardless of that. As for my own calculations,\" he rubbed his forehead, \"call them a professional courtesy. Most don't do the legwork to double or triple check anything once the resurrection is complete. I'm quite firmly certain - though I have no explanation for it - that the woman was dead long before she ever got in that car accident.\"\n\nThe attorney sighed, frustrated, and shook his head, \"That's impossible. There hasn't been a single documented case of a victim having died prior to the incident that killed them in, what, nearly 60 years?\"\n\n\"Hold on, this has happened before?\" Alex asked, astounded. He'd studied theoretical cases in university, most about oddities that could have significant effects on the resurrection process or cases where there'd been subtle violations of the Necromantic Acts of 2020, but not a single thing he'd studied had ever come close to suggesting something like this was even possible.\n\nBefore the attorney could answer, a pair of detectives entered the room.\n\n\"Hello gentlemen, if you don't mind,\" the older of the two began, nodding toward the attorney, \"we'd like to have a quick word with Mr. Alexander Cabal. Could you follow my partner out of the room?\"\n\nThe attorney was shocked but nodded, throwing a concerned look at Cabal before following the younger detective out.\n\nThe remaining detective smiled at Alex, \"Alright Mr. Cabal, before I continue I have to inform you that you are, by executive order from the heads of state, hereby pulled from retirement and reassigned to my Counter-Necromancy team. You are hereby legally obligated to maintain secrecy and may discuss this only with those individuals whom I introduce to you as part of this investigation. Should you accept, you will be placed in dangerous situations for the good of your State. Should you decline you will be held in a maximum security facility indefinitely without a hearing. Understood?\"\n\nAlex swallowed hard, \"With those options, why bother asking?\"\n\n\"Because I'm obligated to. Besides, one or two have taken the detention option before...\"\n\nAlex doubted the detective was telling the truth, but he didn't see many other options and he hadn't been planning to retire anyway, \"Yes, understood. I'm not quite sure how I can be of help though, I've already given a full report of my findings and I have no training related to a case like this. Hell, I've never even heard of a case like this. Ever!\"\n\n\"That's because we do our best to keep these particular cases wrapped up tight, Mr. Cabal. The attorney outside with my partner is being briefed in much in the same way you are, though I'm pretty sure he'll be reprimanded for letting it slip that he's worked with us before.\"\n\n\"Worked with you before... So that incident he was talking about, that occured 60 years ago, that was like this one?\"\n\n\"That's correct Mr. Cabal. You see, every now and then we encounter examples, like this, of what many on the force call 'Dark Necromancy'. I'm sure you've learnt that permanent ressurections are impossible, yes? That the state only uses Necromancers for cases that can be wrapped up in under 6 months because there hasn't been a process that's been invented that can keep a body stable longer than that?\"\n\n\"Yes, of course...\" Alex answered, mind racing as the implications hit him. The detective was blatantly suggesting that someone, somewhere, had figured out how to do something that was very clearly impossible, that would take such an obscene amount of alchemical supplies and magical energy that simply performing the ritual would burn out a dozen necromancers. That wasn't even taking into account the amount of additional energy that would need to be added to the system every month to keep the subject from exhibiting signs of decay. \n\nNecromancy had exceptionally strict limits; it took a large amount of energy to reanimate a corpse for a given period, 6 months being the limit for a single person. Always, the process resulted in a net-loss of total energy for the Necromancer in question, it was why Necromancers, without exception, retired at 52; they simply didn't have enough life force left in them to be spending it on other people. In addition, the people they brought back decayed at an accelerated rate, their body no longer naturally going through the biological processes that repaired natural wear and tear. Theoretically, a necromancer could invest energy every month past the 6 month initial limit, but the transfer ratio only ever got more extreme. If there really was someone keeping a body alive, permanently, for even two years... Assuming they'd started fresh out of university, they wouldn't see their 26th birthday, much less their 52nd.\n\nThe detective nodded grimly as Alex's face grew more and more concerned, \"I see you've come to the conclusion that the person doing this would have to be insane to shorten their life so drastically, that's perfectly natural given your lack of practical experience in this particular area of Necromancy.\"\n\n\"Wait, are you suggesting this kind of thing has happened frequently enough that the state already knows of a way to sustain those levels of energy investment?!\"\n\n\"Unfortunately yes. Cases like this aren't very common but we've studied every single one thoroughly, devoting years and the minds of some of the best necromancers in the world to this research. We've come to the conclusion that there appears to be a necromantic process that allows an individual to use the energy of another person to fuel their own abilities. It's complex, and also irreversible, but theoretically possible. I won't go into great detail because an expert should be arriving soon to speak with you, but essentially you create a vessel in which you store the energy of people on the edge of death, killing them of course, which you can then use for your own purposes. Our boys have taken to calling it a 'Phylactery'.\"\n\nNow Alex's mind was racing with possibility, sure he'd probably die a horrible death chasing down whatever psycho had a \"Phylactery\" or what have you, but it looked like a far more interesting life than a quiet retirement. He smiled back the detective's grim face, \"Well what are we waiting for? Let's get to it.\"",
"\"Shouldn't a person only die once?\" The young girl asked me with a droll look in her unseeing eyes.\n\nShe'd been buried in white but dark makeup was applied to her porcelain skin with her nails, eyelids and lips all painted black. In the old cemetery she looked the ghostly dream in death that she had hoped to be in life. Something told me this one was pleased with the situation.\n\n\"Technically, yes.\" I responded with a shrug as I cleaned my ridiculous 'sacrificial knife\". \n\nIt was a ghastly thing, thick and wide with engravings of a dead language etched on either side. It was a show piece passed down from my mother and her mother and her mother before her. My makeup was just as an impressive show as the knife, the same etches painted on my dark skin in stark white. \n\nApparently we necromancers felt that it was best that the public believe that we can only raise the dead with specific tools and specific rituals.\n\nThe idea had started with the witches, who had wanted to be seen as allies with the rest of humanity. The truth is that all magic, innate or otherwise, can be accessed as easily as a thought sometimes for those who are able. The only catch is that magic itself has a price, no matter the origins or flavor.\n\nThe girl spoke again, bringing me back into the present.\n\"You don't have many friends, do you?\"\n\n\"No. Considering what happened to you, I'm better off...\" I drawled off as I set fire to the lamb whose blood had brought Emily Wong back to life.\n\nThe wonderful thing about the resurrected is that they have no feelings and therefore it is impossible to hurt said feelings. \n\n\"My death was for a greater purpose and I was proud to have borne the sacrifice.\" The creature that was Emily Wong returned, making me pause for a moment.\n\nThe eighteen year old might have been into the watered down false dark arts, but that vocabulary was odd even for her. \n\nI'd once attended a symposium about the difference between magical influence and hypnosis. The basic gist was that those who had been under hypnosis tended to repeat the same pattern of phrases the hypnotist used, whereas those under magical influence convinced themselves that the actions they took were of their own volition.\nEmily Wong had committed ritual suicide on paper but her known associates were starting to cause some real trouble. The occult seemed to be growing in popularity among the gullible youth nation wide and the crimes and death tolls seemed to be racking up. \n\nCould Emily have been hypnotised before she ended her life? \n\nI stared at Emily for a long moment as I removed the makeup from my own face. There was something compelling about her, even with her blank smile. What had happened to her, really? Why had she done it?\n\nThe smiling dead girl in front of me had been chosen by the state to be resurrected as a witness because of her massive social media following. The state hoped to kill two birds with one stone by putting the masterminds of the occult wave behind bars and showing how stupid it is for kids to do certain things because it was \"cool\".\n\nAnd I had been chosen only because my family's 'style' of resurrection was more entertaining than others. Hence the reason why I was still packing up candles, tarps and clearing out chalk symbols on the grave. \n\nThe whole thing was exhausting and extensive, made even worse by the fact that I could have done this with a kitchen knife and a drop of my own blood. \n\nMy phone buzzed once and I knew that the rest of the healthy payment for this gig had entered my bank account and my financial woes were as good as gone. Man, student loans suck...\n\nHaving finished with the massive task of clearing up, I threw my duffel bag of death over my shoulders and looked back over at Emily Wong. She's been beautiful in life and still so in death, even in her ridiculous white lace romper.\n\n\"Ms. Wong, fare thee well in death as in life. Answer truthfully all the questions you are asked and once your task is done recede back into the peace of eternal night.\" I said to her in parting, my thumb on her forehead to bind her to my will and make sure she did what she'd been brought back to do.\n\nEmily Wong continued to smile and said nothing. She didn't have to respond but there was a flash of something in her eyes that was... odd. I stared into her dark depths a moment longer and found nothing there besides a corpse. A beautiful corpse but a corpse nonetheless.\n\nShaking it off I walked away from the grave, away from the girl who'd ended her own life out of sheer idiocy, the ring of special agents and officers that kept the paparazzi and tearful fans away. Some had posters that read, \n\"We follow you even in death!\"\n\"EWs forever!\"\n(and my personal favorite)\n\"Take me back with you Emily!\" \n\nWith a mental palm to the face, I pulled up my black hoodie and blended in to the crowd of emo decedent youths, and then walked away from the circus that was the Resurrection of Emily Wong. \n\nI couldn’t sleep that night, partially because of the buzz that I get from raising the dead (as a Necromancer), partially because Emily Wong still bothered me and partially because I began binge watching Santa Clarita Diet on Netflix. \n\nI ended up dozing off at dawn but deep sleep eluded me even then. That is, until I opened my eyes to see a phone held aloft with a selfie of Emily and I. With the filter she had chosen, we could both have been asleep or we could both have been dead. \n\nNext to me I felt her hair dance and float, smelling of jasmine and the grave. I turned into her gleaming obsidian eyes and this time she did not smile. \n\n“I’m going to need you to remember my love.” She whispered before my world turned black in one violent move.",
"The titanic bells at the St.Augilard Cathedral had begun to toll early in the morning, their mournful whale's cry reverbrating through the district, tearing through the fog and rain to flood down the streets of Ordon.\n\nRain, always rain... Phernoculos Mortimer, the District Attorney, stormed through the massive, oak and iron, front doors of the Raktskaard Institute for the Aetheric and Psyxemechanical Research, splashing water and dirt from his raincoat. For a moment he basked in the warm golden glow of the Institute's new voltagic lamps, happy to be out of the shredding downpour. \n\nOrdon and its cursed, neverending rain. He grew up in Blackpool, but still couldn't get used to the capital's dreary climate.\n\nThen, noticing the mud stains on the polished marble tiles, Phernoculos grimaced in irritation, shoved his walking cane under the arm, and raced up the great spiral staircase to the Medicinal Evocations. The porter stared at him emotionlessly, following the squat little man fly upwards like a bat. The Attorney seemed angry enough as it seemed... he would let the mess slide.\n\n***\n\nThe anatomical theatre took up most of the Medical Evocations department - a thirty feet-wide well that descended a good two floors, capped with a glass dome that was more of a homage to tradition, than a necessity. After the Great Wake, rain rarely left Ordon, and sun, let alone any meaningful light, was scarce to warrant such a roof.\n\nInstead, great Hurstrgich-Lang piezoprojectors were worked under the dome, their convex lens shining like baleful eyes of a sea monster down on any poor fellow or body that was unlucky to undergo vivisection, and the thick rubber cables swayed slowly with a kraken's unnerving similarity.\n\nBelow, rows of auditorium seats split only by tall narrow windows, polished by countless professorial arses to an almost academic degree, Mortimer sneered to himself. And then the working zone - articulated gurneys, glistening with segmented chrome, trays filled with unpleasant tools, weird voltagic machinery, and a small, 9-cell refrigerator at the eastern curve of the theatre's wall.\n\nThe light from the piezoprojectors was hard, even cold somehow. \n\nPhernoculos Mortimer circled around the gurney, his hand running down the metal and the leather straps, and then looked down, his eye once again catching the dizzying symmetry of the Greater Styggian Blood Seal, assembled from fine Merava tiles right in the floor. \n\nThe pattern flowed beneath his feet with a tar-ish crimson, almost alive.\n\nHe jerked his chin up, a shudder pulsing through his stocky frame. Sometimes, he forgot what Raktskraad Institute dealt with.\n\nThe Attorney's locomotive of thought, set on an unpleasant course, was promptly derailed by a loud snap of a door and the clang of boots stomping on the ceramic flooring. Head Sarkologist, the necromancer had arrived.\n\n***\n\n\"The body should've arrived this morning, but you know - traffic. Some paperboy got trampled under a cab around Daggerot Ave, so...\" the District Attorney almost crumpled a stack of perforated typoliths in his grip, nervous and sweaty despite the theatre's chill. \"I came personally, Zachery. This case - it's complicated\".\n\nJudging by Mortimer's anxiety, Zachery var Mohrenk was keen on believing the DA. The case could be complicated - they *all* were. He marched through the central podium, sliding his charchoal gloves on with a snap of powder. First, observation. Full-on contact will come later, if the situation determines it. \n\nIn any case, the theatre had a working Seal, and plenty raw material in the fridge, if an emergency \"pull\" was required. \n\nA tight loop of anticipation squeezed var Mohrenk's innards. There was too much study lately; too much knifework fit for the butchers that surgeons really were; too much writing, even though his compendium on shatterbone aether properties was coming along nicely. \n\nThough it was hard to admit, despite the isolating bubble he found himself in by being who he was, Zachery missed the police pouring into Raktskraad day and night for his *services*. \n\nMissed the bloodied nights smoldering with the fires of Styggian candle-oil, the thrill of hunt as he dipped into the void below, clawing for the squelching remnants of murdered souls in the dark. Mohrenk missed the frightened pale faces of assisting policemen when he went through his machinations and the delighted grins of the judge when the *Returned* came to cast an accusatory finger from the court's tribute. The exquisite mix of horror and awe that he brought out in people. Maybe, the justice, too.\n\nBut more than that, he missed being the Queen's court Necromancer.\n\nAnd there was noone he could blame for the that feeling of abandonment, other than himself.\n\nAlso, the criminal element of Ordon caught the wind of police employing sarkology quick enough. Corpses came in preventively decapitated, or with their tongues cut out and hands chopped off - anything to prevent the *Returned* to communicate with the law, and help convict their murderer.\n\nVar Mohrenk grabbed the fridge cell door's handle and pulled. The screech of metal on metal, and the trolley came sliding out. Behind the necromancer, Phernoculos crept over his shoulder, watching the sarkologist's apt thin fingers pull the soaked cheesecloth away.\n\n***\nMortimer watched var Mohrenk work, taking layer after galbalmic layer with a slow, calculated efficacy. It was five months he saw him last, in Windfall - before the Grand Ball at the Shatterghast Palace. Right before... The District Attorney gulped audibly, shoving the memories away.\n\nThis relatively short time did nothing to heal the necromancer's wounds. Shame and loss was stamped out on the man despite his proud posture. Ah, he grew thinner, as if his flesh had been taken and dragged on the sharp ridges of the Parliament building, grated into nothing until bone stuck unapologetically right beneath the sallow skin. Var Mohrenk's short hair stuck out of his scalp like the fur of some rotten animal, messy and patchy. The artistocratic sheen had been peeled straight off.\n\nA bit of arrogance remained, but subdued...weak... and the hands, oh, the hands gave him away the most. After all, he was no policemen. \n\nBiting his lip, Phernoculos narrowed onto the intricate scar-work upon Var Mohrenk's forearm, the tell-tale mark of his profession. While they were once clean and light, now those etched-in patterns pulsed with an ill, infected viscosity, running in black rivulets down to his wrists. He shook his head, assured that Zachery couldn't see him while being to busy with the preserving galbalmic cocoon.\n\n*Asperth*. The damned plague... so many good policemen lost to it as they strive to escape this constant rain, grime and dark. \n\nMortimer could see them, curled with the gigantic larvae in those damp, miserable Asper dens that popped up all around Ordon, mouths slack and eyes empty as the Styggian brood pushes a drop of that cursed nectar down their throats. Imagining var Mohrenk in one one of those places, soiled, mute and indifferent, made the DA's fists tighten. Of all people, a sarkologist should understand the futility of illusions.\n\nThen again, with what the Necromancers did, what kind of dreams did they want to escape? Mortimer hoped he didn't come to know.\n\nIn the arcs of bluish light that zapped from the piezoprojectors above as the power surged from the rain, var Mohrenk's lupine features suddenly contorted into a snarl. He pushed himself forcefully away from the morgue trolley. \n\nHe glared back at Phernoculos, eyes pale and wide, that asperth emptiness already nestled behind the greying iris - only shock dragging the sarkologist back to his former self. He pointed at the corpse, hand shaking:\n\n\"That... that-!\"\n\nThe District Attorney shrugged. Well, there we go, he thought resolutely.\n\n\"Yes, that\", he pulled out his pipe. At least he can pretend to be busy with it when the Necromancer realizes what was asked of him. \"That's - in case you never seen it - is a Styggian Royal Architect\".\n\nPhernoculos Mortimer chewed on his pipe and ignited it, hopeful it would abate the unholy stench coming from the corpse. It was going to be hard. The monstrosity lay there, decaying with every passing moment, and Mortimer avoided looking at it too close.\n\n\"You'll have to *Return* it, Mohrenk. I don't know how, I don't know at what cost. But it will have to talk to the High Imperial Court. Or least... the Great Wake will look like a sweet, sweet dream\".\n\nIf anything, var Mohrenk should know about when sweet dreams turn sour and rot, six feet under.\n\n***\n\nA/N: Wow, that was some fun worldbuilding, thanks OP for the prompt! If you want more, some sort of continuation, let me know, I grew interested in these characters!\n\n",
"I fiddled and fussed with the Temporal chair, carefully checking each electrode and restraint. This dratted thing was getting on in years, and indeed it still resembled the electric chair which was used as the first prototype, if with an awful lot more wires, probes and sensors attached to it. Every surface was covered in scratches and marks. \"Perhaps we will get the new model next year.\" I said hopefully.\n\n\"Yeah, I heard Marcus in Alberta got the new one last week.\" said my assistant Bert brightly. \nI stiffened. \"What? But he just updated last year? How often does he need a new resurrection chair, and why am I still stuck with this ancient thing?\" I said, glaring at the chair. \n\"Well, he does get an awful lot of important cases. Last month he had that politician's aide resurrected to testify at the royal inquiry.\" Bert said, scratching his chain. \n\"That.\" I said drily \"is because he has a newer chair.\" \n\"He is very good at raising people to talk\" Bert said cheerfully. \n\"And I'm not?\" \n\"Well, uh, it's not that but...\"Bert stammered. \n\"Did I not raise the young man with half his head missing last week?\" I said waving my hands like a windmill \"getting a class one testimony from him?\" \n\"Well, yes, but he did then sort of, um..\" Bert said wringing his hands. \n\"Sort of what?\" I said, frowning \"I don't remember what happened at the end of his testimony.\" \n\"Well he, ah, blew up.\" Bert said, cowering, as my face went white \"Bits went everywhere, and you were knocked out.\" I went purple. \n\"You. Did not. Mention. This.\" I said through gritted teeth. \n\"I didn't want to upset you.\" Bert said, saved from my wrath by the lab door crashing open. I spun around, swallowing the rising shriek when I saw who it was. \n\"William. How good to see you.\" The District Attorney said, glowering at me. \"How are you feeling?\" \n\"Fine, fine, we were just going over the chair.\" I said, trying to regain composure. \n\"Good. No more explosions on the cards?\" \n\"Er, no.\" I said, pulling at the collar of my black lab coat. \n\"Good. Expect the cleaning bill for my other suit. Apparently intestines are hard to remove from wool.\" The Attorney said, still glowering. \n\"Aha.\" I said weakly. This was not boding well at all. \n\"To despite my reservations I have another case for you\" the Attorney said, as a couple of white-clad assistants wheeled in a rather unusual coffin. \n\"In here? Not in the courtroom?\" I said, confused by the break in procedure. \n\"No. They are still getting gore removed from the ceiling.\" the Attorney said, as I went pale again. \"Besides, this is to be done to a video link to the State office.\" He said, as I stared at the coffin, trying to figure out where I had seen it before. \n\"State?\" I said, scratching my head. \"Usually Marcus does State cases.\" \n\"Yes, well, your chair, being the only Temporal model in..\" the Attorney paused, thinking \"...service at all, it the only suitable one.\" \n\"What?\" I yelled, going purple again. \"Even that backwater run by the Teak brothers got a new chair - I two three times the cases they do?\" \n\"And they.\" the Attorney said, glaring again \"Have not spread any witnesses over the entire courtroom recently.\" \n\"Urk\" I said, stopping listing to the Attorney \"I know where Iv'e seen that coffin - in the museum! Why do I have a replica of King Tutankhamen's sarcophagus in my lab?\" \n\"It's not a replica.\" Bert said helpfully, looking at the paperwork.\n\"What?\" I said, turning back to the Attorney \"Are you serious? No one has every tried to raise someone who has passed on for more than a month.\" \n\"Well, he is very well preserved\" the Attorney said, as the assistants removed the lid. \n\"Persevered?\" I shrieked \"A raisin is preserved. That\" I said, pointing a shaking finger at the mummy \"Is petrified.\" \n\"Well, it is actually mummified\" Bert said helpfully, before ducking to avoid my hurtling pen. \n\"Which is why you are doing.\" The Attorney said \"Your chair is the only one that can cope. We need to ask him why they built the Pyramids.\" \n\"Why?\" I said, stopping. \"Don't you mean how?\" \n\"No, why. It turns out there might be a functional purpose to them, and we want to check before building another one.\" \n\"This is for the King, isn't it?\" I said, cradling my head. \n\"Yes, so get it right. You have until tomorrow\" the Attorney said, stalking out the room. \n\nThe next eighteen hours were madness. Running about the lab, preparing equipment and reading everything I could find about experiments with old corpses on the database. There were little challenges like getting electrodes to connect to dry, papery skin to mammoth tasks like trying to bend joints which had not moved in thousands of years to fit in the chair. Plenty of notes were made about how the imbecile who decided a resurrection chair was better than a table were made. Finally, I sat slumped on my own office chair looking at the mummy which was now sitting regally upon the chair as if it were a throne. \n\n\"Is it ready?\" the Attorney said from behind me, causing me to almost need a Temporal chair myself to provide an answer. \n\"Yes.\" I said, motioning for Bert to start the cameras. \nThe next thirty minutes were filled with the seemingly endless droning of procedure and announcements, which I tuned out until the key phrase.\" \n\"Let the Resurrection being.\" the Attorney announced, turning to me.\n\nI pushed the button. for all the complexity of this dark art, that was all it came down to. Push the button and let the chair do it's thing. The art was in the preparation. And carefully watching the readouts during the session. \nThe chair hummed and sparked, the readouts climbing. \n\"Nothing is happening\" the Attorney whispered, glaring. I turned the voltage up, to no effect other than more sparks. I turned it all the way up, sweating. \nThere was a brief pause, a hesitation in the fabric of time as if before the in-draw of a breath. A gentle tremor shook the chair and the eyes of the mummy glowed. I started, fiddling with dials. The eyes never glowed. \n\"Why have you awoken me from my slumber?\" a dry, papery voice intoned. I froze, my fingers halting as I looked up at the mummy, it's eyes boring into mine. \nI spun my head to the TV feed, noting it had gone out. Not good. The Attorney also noticed the situation and was sweating lightly. \n\"We have awoken you to ask why you built the Pyramids?\" The Attorney said hesitantly. \nI scrunched up my eyes \"How do you speak English?\" \nThe mummy stared at me, ignoring the Attorney. \n\"I have been listening. Waiting.\" the papery voice said. \n\"Waiting? How have you not passed on to the Afterlife?\" I said, puzzled. \n\"The engine of time has kept me here.\" \n\"The Pyramid? How do they work?\" the Attorney said, interrupting. \n\"What do you mean, afterlife? Is that not a myth?\" The mummy intoned, ignoring the Attorney again. \n\"No, I bring people back from it all the time. Not for long, though, they don't appreciate it.\" I said candidly. \"Well some do, but they have gone.. elsewhere.. and things, well, come to find them if you keep them too long.\" I said, shuddering at the memory of the nameless shadows. \n\"I have not heard of this.\" the mummy said, the papery voice sounding surprised. \"All the people in the museum talk about is Egypt, and they have all their facts so very wrong. If it is as you say, I will go and see this Afterlife then.\" \n\"Yes, I think you will like it.\" I said happily. \n\"Hang on one minute.\" the Attorney said, as he clicked what was going on. \"we have other Questions.\" \n\"Goodbye\" the mummy said, before covering my lab in an interesting shade of brown powder and white shards.\nBert looked around the lab. \"Well, at least it isn't sticky this time.\" \nThis time I nailed him with my pen. \n\n",
"St. Mark Building \n27.11.2060 \nNecromancer: NM \nAccused: ACC \n[BEGIN TRANSCRIPT] \nNM: Aright, we’re at the DA St. Mark building, the date is 27th November, 2084. You are Graham Shaw, dead at age 24, born in 12th February 2060. Can you confirm? \nACC: [NODS SLOWLY] \nNM: Beautiful. I work for the District Attorney. My job is to resurrect any deceased individuals whose testimonies are necessary for the conclusion of ongoing cases. Rest assured, once you’re job is done, we’ll put you back to rest. \nACC: [SILENCE] \nNM: Mr. Shaw, can you confirm that you understand everything I am telling you? \nACC: Yes. \nNM: Beautiful. So, you’re dead, and I’m not getting younger, so let’s get straight to the point. Did you, or did you not murder Alex Fisher? \nACC: You know what I did. \nNM: But I want to know what you think you did. \nACC: It was self defence. He would have killed me. \nNM: But you did manage to incapacitate him, despite him pulling the weapon on you. \nACC: [SILENCE] \nNM: Was it really necessary to stab him repeatedly once you had him pinned? It was clear the fight was over. \nACC: What’s your name? \nNM: That’s irreleva- \nACC: What’s your name? \nNM: ……you can call me M. \nACC: Have you ever been in love, Mr. M? \nNM: I’m married. \nACC: Then you will understand why I had to kill the man. \nNM: I don’t follow. \nACC: He did what he did. For a girl. \nNM: He….this wasn’t mentioned earlier… \nACC: She is crafty. A psychopath. A black widow, collecting the best flies on her web. He was hopelessly trapped. \nNM: I don’t see where you’re going with this… \nACC: He fought out of jealousy. He saw me as someone who could take her away from him. So he confronted me. \nNM: That’s……interesting. Very interesting. But it still doesn’t answer my question. \nACC: Why did I kill him? He had become an.....instrument. A pawn in her game. If I let him live, he would have broken his own arms trying to strangle me if he had to. \nNM: You ended up dying at his own hands, anyways. \nACC: Yes. I am not the first. Nor will I be the last. \nNM: Look, all I see here is a situation where two men killed each other over a bloody girl. It’s not that new, and don’t try to blame the girl for murder. \nACC: When I died.......my brain went into a loop state. I kept replaying the last few events, over and over again. I have analysed this situation hundreds of times, until all traces of energy deserted me. I know what I’m saying. Listen to me, and you will save lives. Ignore me, and watch the rise of a killer. \nNM: I think I’ve heard enough. We’ll let you rest now. \nACC: [LEANS FORWARD] Listen to me very closely. Let that monster run lose, and very time you close your eyes, you will see the faces of the people who could be alive today. People who have killed others, or themselves. So many cases, leading back to one innocent young lady. \nYou’re a necromancer. You don’t believe in ghosts, but ignore what I say and you will see that ghosts are very, very real. And they exist in the deepest, darkest crevices of your mind. \n[LONG SILENCE ENSUES] \nNM: So what do you propose we do? We can’t accuse her of something that might happen. \nACC: You are bound by the laws of the living. I am already dead. \nNM: You’re saying I just….let you run amok? And play detective? \nACC: [SILENCE] \nNM: You realize how stupid that sounds? \nACC: The decision doesn’t have to be in your hands. \nNM: What do you….OH SHIT HOW THE HELL [UNTELLIGIBLE] \n[END TRANSCRIPT]\n",
"\"Mrs. Tabitha Rainsford, please take the stand.\" \n\nA bailiff wheeled her up to the witness stand next to the judge's bench. She was seated in a special wheelchair, one that had straps to hold her body upright, as she would tumble limply out of her seat otherwise. \n\nThe judge turned to her and asked, \"You are Mrs. Tabitha Rainsford, found dead at 11:45pm on January 27, at 140 Lakeview Crescent Drive, and hereby temporarily reanimated to testify regarding the circumstances of your death?\" \n\n\"Yes,\" she replied in a harsh, raspy voice. \n\nThe judge nodded at the prosecutor. \"Please proceed.\" \n\nTabitha's eyes turned briefly towards me, sitting silently in the courtroom, the man responsible for her current state, before looking away. \n\n*****\n\nBringing a dead body back to life is actually pretty easy, if you know how. That's largely why the secrets of necromancy are so closely guarded, passed only from master to apprentice, and never written down anywhere. I'd be out of a job if anyone could raise the dead. \n\nThere's actually a pretty decent demand for bringing back the dead. Some necromancers in the city allow loved ones to say a final goodbye to the deceased. Some of them use the dead as untraceable criminals or assassins: a sprinkle of mandrake root on the face of the resurrected after reanimation, and they'll obey your every command and answer every question truthfully for the duration of their undeath. Then send your zombie off to do your evil bidding, and order it to destroy itself afterwards. It's almost the perfect crime. \n\nMe, I work as a necromancer for the government. Most of the time I resurrect murder victims or silenced witnesses so that they can testify in court. This means I go through a lot of mandrake root. It's standard procedure for me to use the mandrake on every corpse I reanimate. That way everyone can be sure they're telling the truth when they're on the stand. No need for swearing on Bibles when the undead are involved. \n\nIf anyone'd been watching me work on my current cadaver, a recently deceased young woman, they probably would've said nothing out of the ordinary was going on. I say \"probably\" because, naturally, I don't allow anyone to watch me work. Y'know, that whole thing about secrecy. I drew the ancient runes around the body on the altar, lit the five candles placed in a circle on the floor, then slathered the appropriate reagents on the clammy skin of the corpse, chanting all the while. \n\nI spared a moment to stare at the pale face of the woman lying before me. The deceased's police file said her name's Tabitha Rainsford, but I knew she went by the name Tammy. She had a slender nose, high cheekbones, and ash blonde hair that seemed to glow in the candlelight. Her body, even in death, exuded a power that hinted at her own skill in the necromantic arts. In life, she would have been known as one of the most powerful necromancers in the country. \n\nShe had also been my wife. \n\nI finished covering every inch of Tammy's body with the reagent salve, then picked up a single black pearl for the final step of the process. Hesitating only briefly, I crushed the pearl between my fingers over her heart and allowed the fragments to settle on her skin. Almost immediately, Tammy drew a deep rasping breath and opened her eyes. She looked around in mild surprise, before her gaze settled on me. \n\n\"Darren,\" she rasped. \n\n\"Tammy,\" I replied. \n\n\"You've brought me back.\" \n\n\"Yes, to testify.\" \n\nTammy struggled to sit up on the altar, but failed. \"How many black pearls did you use on me?\" \n\n\"Just one, a small one. It'll give you maybe six hours of undeath at most, and you'll be largely too weak to move for the whole time.\" \n\nTammy glared angrily up at me from her prone position. \"I suppose the mandrake is coming next then?\" \n\nI smirked mirthlessly. \"I don't think it's necessary, do you? Your testimony, the end result, it'll all be the same. After all... I was the one who killed you.\" \n\n\"And you brought me back knowing that my testimony would convict you? That you could end up in jail, or worse?\" Tammy's eyes were wide with disbelief. \"Or did you bring me back to gloat one last time?\" \n\n\"No, Tammy. I brought you back to apologize.\" \n\nTammy's eyes grew even wider in speechless astonishment. I pressed on, \"Yes, Tammy, you heard me right. I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry I killed you. It was an accident, and I was drunk, and angry, but that doesn't excuse what I did. I hit you, and then your head hit the mantlepiece, and afterwards I was too much of a coward to call an ambulance. I thought I could stop the bleeding myself, but... well... I couldn't. And now you're gone.\" My eyesight was blurring with tears, but I continued, \"And I'm sorry. I really am, Tammy. It was a stupid argument about nothing that ended with you dead. But that's not the end of the story. You're going to go up to the stand in an hour's time, and you're going to tell the truth about what happened. And afterwards, whatever happens to me, happens. I'll deserve it.\" \n\nTammy's gaze had softened somewhat, with the anger replaced by an array of other unidentifiable emotions, but still she said nothing. I wiped the tears away from my cheeks, gave her a wan smile, and then strode out of necromancy chamber to report to my superiors that the victim was ready for testimony. \n\n***** \n\n\"Mrs. Rainsford, could you please describe the circumstances of your death, up until the point where you have no further memories,\" the prosecutor said. \n\nTammy blinked, glanced back at me again, then looked at the prosecutor. \"That night, I had an argument with my husband, Darren. It was about a minor issue, he wanted to be able to spend more time with his friends, while I wanted him to spend more time at home.\" \n\nThe prosecutor interrupted Tammy, \"Before we continue, Mrs. Rainsford, could you please point out if your husband Darren is here today?\" \n\nTammy stared at me, seated at the defendant's table. \n\nThe prosecutor nodded in satisfaction, \"Thank you. Please continue.\" \n\n\"We'd both been drinking that night. And, under the influence of the alcohol... I stumbled and struck my head against the mantlepiece. That is as far as my memories go.\" \n\nThe courtroom erupted into surprised murmurs. The judge hammered for silence with his gavel. The prosecutor said, with furrowed eyebrows, \"Mrs. Rainsford, your account does not match the circumstances surrounding your death, as indicated by the forensics team. They found evidence of a struggle, and stated that your head had struck the mantlepiece too forcefully for it to have been an accident.\" \n\n\"Our argument did descend into physical blows, which may be why your forensics team thought there'd been a struggle,\" Tammy rasped, \"and as for the force of the blow, well, I stumbled pretty hard.\" \n\nThe murmurs were louder this time. The judge banged his gavel again for order, then turned to Tammy. \"Mrs. Rainsford, you received the mandrake treatment before taking the stand, correct?\" \n\n\"Yes.\" \n\nThe judge stared briefly at her before turning away. \"In light of the victim's testimony, the case against the accused is hereby dismissed. This court is adjourned.\" \n\n***** \n\n\"Why did you lie?\" \n\nWe were back in the necromancy chamber again. The door was shut, to ensure we wouldn't be disturbed. Tammy was back on the altar, and I held her cold hands in mine. \n\n\"What's the point in telling the truth? To get revenge on you? It was an accident, Darren. You didn't mean for it to happen. It was just a stupid argument that got out of hand. I don't want to see you in jail, or worse. I forgive you, Darren.\" \n\nTears were streaming down my cheeks uncontrollably. \"But... I'm so sorry for what I did... I don't think I deserve your forgiveness...\" \n\n\"Then make it up to me, Darren. Hold me one last time, tell me you love me, and know that I love you too.\" \n\n\"I do love you, Tammy. I do.\" \n\nI held Tammy close to me until the magic of the black pearl faded, and she passed on once again into death. "
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[WP] One day, you find Death weeping on a park bench.
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"\"Hey man!\" \"Zack, just go.\" Ever since he had figured out how to escape Death, Zack Henning had become good friends with the being. \"What is it?\" He sat down on the bench next to Death, his trench coat flapping in the wind. \"Did somebody ask about the outfit again? I told you, Dick Tracy is not a good idea.\" \"Would you prefer Castiel from Supernatural?\" A scary image flashed through Zack's head. \"Nope. So, why are you crying?\" Death looked at Zack, his coal-black eyes wet with tears. \"I'm losing it. There's another guy that keeps beating me.\" \"What? No way. The only ones who can do that are me, Elena, Maveric, and Costo.\" \"Tell that to him.\" He lifted a pale, thin finger and pointed at a man across the park. Zack knew him well-it was his father that died 4, almost 5 years ago.",
"I saw it there as no one else could, exhaling poisons and flies, face wrapped in bloodstained gauze, robes imperviously black. The world moved around it, through it. It saw the world but could not reach out to it as star forever trapped in the dead depths of space. And it convulsed in a way all too human, with fits and short breaths, the place where its eyes should have been were cold diamonds pierced through a veil. I took a seat beside it.\n\n\n“Will I die now? Or have I already died?”\n\n\nIt weeped in bursts, its maw pouring tar and broken glass.\n\n\n“You are all dead, marked with the frailty of life, pale ribbons of flesh against the pounding waves and rocks of time. And you are all beautiful in your death. I am eternal; I am cursed.”\n\n\nI held its hand, thin to the bone, skin gray and dusty. Even in the fullness of day it was cold. From behind its eyes I saw a thousand worlds burning; a thousand-headed raven vomiting corpses; a thousand miles of viscera strung on trees like Christmas lights.\n\n\n“I long for the judgement I deal, as do all gods. My violence is what I would inflict to myself, that is why I weep. You should not fear my face; you should thank me that your innocence is spared. To face eternity is death unending.”\n\n\nIt kissed me through bandaged lips, my heart filled and burst, and, I as I convulsed on the ground from an aneurism, it wailed, and for those last seconds, we both foolishly wished we might trade places.",
"“What’s wrong my hooded friend?” I asked.\n\n“Well,” Death responded while sniffling. “I feel obsolete. After millennia of good business, I’m almost out of work. I’ve been evicted from my apartment, and I’m a laughing stock in the Underworld!”\n\n“Tell you what,” I said. “Why don’t I look around, see if anyone’s looking for a stand-up demon that works hard. I heard that Walmart is hiring!”\n\n“Walmart?!” he said with disgust. “I may be Death, but that would be a fate worse than...well...death!”\n\n“Well, you can’t get hired with that attitude! Tell you what, Jennifer and I are having dinner later, why don’t you join us?”\n\n“You’d really let me do that?”\n\n“Well, what else are friends for?”\n\n“Oh gosh, man, thanks! I gotta say, I’m really sorry for what I’m about to do.”\n\n“Wha-” I said, but I could not finish my sentence. My heart had stopped, and my soul was being collected by Death. Maybe being friends with desperate-for-work soul collector isn’t the best idea.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------\n\nThank you for reading! I'm relatively new to writing on r/writingprompts, and therefore I'd really appreciate any criticism you've got.",
"She should have known better. Her mother always told her to be careful of strangers, but she also told her to always try to help people in need. Seeing the ragged man, stooped across the street, his face held in thin white hands, the little girl followed the latter.\n\n\nShe darted across that road. Her ears confirmed what her eyes could already see; she could hear the thin man sobbing softly beneath his dark black robes. Coming closer, she saw what might have been a walking stick laying across his lap.\n\n\n\"Is everything okay Mister?\" she asked with a smile as bright as the sun.\n\n\n\"No,\" the man said with a growl in his voice. He looked up from his palms, a rictus yet oddly soft grin peeking from his hood.\n\n\nThe girl looked up into that pale, hollow face. Halloween was still weeks away. \"What's wrong?\"\n\n\n\"There is a thing I must do, though it pains me to do it.\"\n\n\nThe girl scrunched her face, \"Is it hard?\"\n\n\n\"Some say it is, though it is a thing that must be done, and there is none but me to do it.\"\n\n\n\"Mom says when you have to do something hard you just have to give it your best!\" she balled her tiny fist and showed a fighting face. \"Mom says it gets easier the more you try.\"\n\n\n\"Will it?\" the man said more than asked. He tried to straighten himself but still slouched despite this.\n\n\nThe girl could hear a sob get caught in the dark man's gravely voice. Her mouth bent down at the corners, curved like a waning moon. How could she help him be less sad? Looking again at his walking stick she saw the long blade and could feel, even at a distance, how sharp it was. She told herself to be careful of it, then realized she was already cut."
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[WP] You live in a world where people's hearts start glowing whenever they meet the love of their life. After years of loneliness you pass by a girl on the street and your heart starts glowing. Hers, however, does not.
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"My heart glowed for you\n\nIt started slow, just a faint glimmer\n\nSoftly radiant\n\n'Til it shone bright and proud.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBut you barely spared me a glance\n\nAnd kept strolling on by –\n\nYou walked right through me\n\nLike I wasn't even there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd it hurts, because it's true.\n\nI lost you \n\nBefore we even met\n\nIn the accident last June.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBut the day you grow old,\n\nWith hair as white as snow,\n\nBecome a wife, a mother\n\nA grandmother –\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI'll still be waiting\n\nFor you.",
"\"Why are you doing this John? I thought you loved me, I thought your heart glowed for me? Why are you leaving me now? Why are you saying this was a mistake?\" \n\nSarah sobbed as she desperately clung to the hem of his shirt. As well she should, the past nine months had been a whirlwind romance, John proving his love and devotion in a million ways both large and small. From an impromptu vacation to Fiji to the way he held her hand during delivery, she had been thoroughly swept off her feet. But not just swept away, the man had become her best friend and most trusted confidant as well as her lover.. Even if her heart never glowed for him, it didn't matter...she loved him now, wholly and truly.\n\nAnd now, out of nowhere, he told her he was leaving. That he couldn't stay anymore.\n\n\"Please just tell me why?\" she begged. John regarded her with pity in his eyes.\n\n\"It was a mistake, I just didn't know. My heart never glowed for _you,\"_ he replied, then nodded to the baby sleeping soundly in her crib. \"It glows for _her.\"_",
"Loneliness. That seems to be the only thing I've been capable of feeling for years. Years I've waited for my heart to glow, just so I can find the love of my life. Mother had always told me to find someone. But for me, it was impossible. No one seemed to love me.\n\nYet today, a miracle happened. My heart started to glow once I walked passed this beautiful lady. She had blond hair and wore sun glasses. Her face was round and she has a small nose. Upon closer inspection, she seemed to be carrying a stick. Does she have trouble walking?\n\nBut then, my mood turned from Joy to Sour in a second. Her heart wasn't glowing. It wasn't possible, every time this happens, both parties seem to fall in love instantly, yet in my case, she just walked by.\n\nNot giving up hope, I follow her and tap her shoulder. \"Excuse me, I just walked passed you and my heart was glowing. Yet I don't see yours glow at all. Is there a problem?\" I asked.\n\nHer gaze was unfocused, like she didn't know I was standing right in front of her. She opened her mouth,\n\"I'm sorry, but people's heart glow? What are you talking about, is this a joke?\"\n\nThen it hit me with a truck. The walking stick, the sun glasses.\n\nShe's blind."
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Our creative abilities to create storylines for books, movies, tv shows, and fanfics are actually all predictions or chronicles of different real planets, worlds, and universes.
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[WP] Earth,as it turns out, was a planet designed to contain a species of prophets called Humans.
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"A boy was on his knees begging to an alien\n\"PLEASE LET ME SEE HER!\" He shouted and sobbed, the alien though refused, knowing the dangers of allowing travel between universes\n\"BUT I LOVE HER! I NEED TO SEE HER!\"! The aliens shook his head as the fat neckbeard Japanese speaking weeaboo cried\n\"m-my mother is gone... I just want to say goodbye.\""
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[WP] You have just been informed that you are the smartest person on Earth, and everyone now expects you to solve all of life's greatest problems.
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"I ignored the doorbell as it rang for the seventeenth time in the past four minutes. I had work to do, the study of Neuroparasitology was not to be halted for girl scout cookies. I used Amazon, like a normal person. Besides, I was pretty sure I was close to discovering a creature at least partially responsible for aberrant behavior in dogs. Then I heard my door open. The telephone rang again but I left it, I hadn`t slept in hours and whoever kept calling could wait until my work was complete. A moment later there was a cough from behind me.\n\nI waved my hand absently, it was probably Gary with some insignificant question about how a section of the brain functioned during mating and how that would affect a mite hidden nearby. Honestly I had no idea how he got his PhD. I finished making my notes and turned around. I had finished my pre-lecture sigh during the chair spin and was preparing the usual diatribe when I noticed three large men in suits were there instead of my idiot colleague. Startled, but not unduly alarmed I wondered if they were investors.\n\n\"Sir, you're going to have to come with us. The higher ups want to talk to you.\"\n\nI was now quite concerned that the private company funding my important research was going to pull funds or had made a deal with some mafia types. ridiculous, but not impossible. I frowned at him but nodded assent as I went to put on some pants. The benefits of working from home meant I usually didn't have to worry about such stupid social delicacies as pants, but I'd make an exception to keep my job.\n\nI followed the bulky men, noticing guns and an alertness that spoke to their quality. I noticed that my door was still in tact as we left the building, and that there was a couple of guards waiting outside who locked up after me. I was led from my small house to one of four large black SUVs on the street.\n\nI spent the next thirty minutes thinking about where my quarry might be hiding. It clearly wasn't a stem parasite, but it affected behaviors influenced by both lobes. I had been confident where I'd been looking, but it hadn't been there. I made some notes on my lab coat notebook. Eventually I arrived at a large building, it was a government building of some kind. It wasn't clear what it was for, but it had all the look of petty bureaucracy. It looked like my afternoon was going to be wasted on paperwork and financial inquiries.\n\nI was lead to an office on the top floor, not a good sign, and everyone in the building seemed to be straining to get a look at me. I was glad I'd remembered to put on pants, sometimes I forgot and everyone got in a tizzy. I was motioned into a room and saw a large table and an empty chair close to me. On the other side was a line of people, seated comfortably with an extensive spread of documents in front of them.\n\nI sat down and looked at the documents, waiting for them to finish their arbitrary introductions. This didn't look to be about Neuroparasitology, at all. I caught the last couple of names, Senators of some such.\n\n\"We brought you here because after an extensive and exhaustive search we have uncovered that you, Alphonse Anderson, are the most intelligent person on the planet. We have arranged for you solve all the big questions posed to our species.\"\n\n\"About time! You idiots have been bumbling about these questions for years. All the infrastructure is there and no one gets how to use it. It's all the bloody paperwork.\"\n\nA man from the corner stepped out and placed stacks of folders down in front of me, each listed with a major crisis.\n\n\"Each of these folders tells you the resources at your disposal and the problem that needs to be solved...\" She droned on some more but I wasn't listening, I scanned the first folder, Homelessness, and tossed it towards them, \"Put the homeless in a warehouse and have them work on assembling care packages to send abroad.\"\n\nI continued, \"Food is easy, it's all there it just has to rounded up and distributed instead of being left to rot, reduce the best before dates and ship them to impoverished nations. For single day items, like hamburgers or whatever give them to local food banks and shelters after closing.\"\n\nI went through the files, easily putting matters to rest. After I was halfway through the stack I came to one that gave me some trouble, \"The meaning of the universe?\" I asked the stunned board in front of me.\n\n\"Well, yes,\" One of them stammered back at me.\n\n\"No scientific solution, ask some philosopher about your drivel.\"\n\n\"But it's the most important question there!\" One of the women shouted, she was minister of something or another. Probably something in the arts with an attitude like that.\n\n\"All the people I've saved will have plenty of time to ponder that once they stop dying. To make a determination on that I'd need more information than humanity has at its disposal. If you want my personal opinion I would say there is no purpose to the universe, no divine entity and no driving unseen force. It's a story of star dust, biology and luck.\" No sooner had I finished my sentence than everyone in the room began to scream. I sat back perplexed as they wailed with a kind of agony that I hadn't even imagined.\n\nI could see fires start in the building across the street. Cars suddenly swerve into each other in the roads below. I'd seen the microphone from the start, of course. But I hadn't been aware that the world was listening live. Over the next few weeks death tolls mounted, my policies to reduce the suffering of mankind, more for efficiency's sake than sympathy, had ended suddenly when everyone despaired in the face of a cruel reality.\n\nIt was only a matter of time until everything broke down. Still I was pretty happy with the results, I'd been allowed to go back to my research, after all.",
"Allie urged her sedan along the abandoned timber road, the engine whining its objections to be forced still further up the hillside. Her car crested over a rise, and she saw something that gave her a fleeting moment of hope: a steady plume of smoke rising out of the thick new growth. \n\nShe continued along the old, muddy road, until she came to a clearing with a modest looking cabin sitting in it. Allie's car seemed to sigh in relief as she put it in park and climbed out. The door to the cabin snapped open, and a dirty looking man with wild hair and a long beard came out brandishing a shotgun.\n\n\"You're trespassing, lady. Best you turn around and head back where you came from,\" he said.\n\nAllie squinted at the man, studying his features through his thick mat of hair. \"You *are* him. You're Harold Dunn!\" she said finally.\n\n\"I don't know who you're talking about lady,\" the man said, raising his shotgun. \"You've got to the count of three to get out of here.\"\n\n\"Please,\" Allie shouted. \"I need your help! It's important, Mr. Dunn.\"\n\n\"One,\" he counted.\n\n\"You're my only hope!\"\n\n\"Two.\"\n\n\"I have Rooney's anemia too!\"\n\nHarold let out a sigh, and lowered the shotgun. \"God damn it. Better come inside then.\" He turned and walked back inside without waiting for Allie to respond. \n\nAllie looked around uncertainly for a moment, but then hurried after Harold. The inside of the cabin was a hideous mishmash of animal head and hunting trophies paired with worn furniture that looked like it belonged in an 80s music video. The only items that appeared to be from this decade were some computers and telephones tucked neatly into one corner of the single room cabin. \n\nHarold was in the kitchen area, pouring himself a cup of hot coffee.\n\n\"I'd love one too,\" Allie said. \"It was quite a long drive out here.\"\n\n\"Only got one mug,\" he replied roughly. \"And the drive's long because I didn't want to be found.\"\n\n\"Yes, I'm sorry. But Sheriff Attwater, the man who ran your missing persons case twenty five years ago, he confided in me that you could be found up here.\"\n\n\"Tell me you got him drunk first. If he's started spilling the beans sober, then I am going to have to go kill the bastard.\"\n\nAllie gasped, and took a step back toward the door.\n\n\"That was a joke.\" Harold took a sip of his coffee. \"Maybe my people skills aren't what they used to be. Anyway, you found The World's Smartest Man. Not that the title has any real meaning. But I take it by the fact that you're hear that nobody else has earned it.\"\n\n\"No sir,\" Allie said. \"I made some inquiries with the government. Nobody has beaten your test scores yet, although periodically people do keep trying.\"\n\n\"Fools,\" Harold grumped.\n\n\"What do you mean, Mr. Dunn?\"\n\n\"I mean, I too was once that foolish. To want the recognition, the fame, the glory of the title. But then your dream does come true, and you realize it's nothing like you hoped. Everyone suddenly assumes you know everything. The letters start pouring in asking for help - big problems, small problems, invented problems. It doesn't matter. They just write, and visit, and take and take from you. Because they think you're a god. A god amongst men that knows the answer. But you know what you realize pretty quick? You don't know shit. Nobody does.\" Harold paused and took a drink from his cup.\n\n\"But you *are* brilliant Mr. Dunn. You cracked codes for governments around the world. You proved some new math theorems.\"\n\n\"I sure did. I have a great brain for analysis. But that doesn't mean I have the first clue about whether someone should buy a house. Or what the meaning of life is. How to fix global warming. Life, death, poverty, famine, plague, all of it magically becomes your domain when the world decides you're the smartest one around. You think it's a coincidence that most people that get the title are gone within two years? They either die, or they search out someone to replace them. In some cases, I'm pretty sure a couple of my predecessors fed answers to some sucker just so someone else would become The World's Smartest Man.\"\n\n\"Well, I don't need you because you're The World's Smartest Man. I need you because you have the cure,\" Allie said, interrupting Harold's ranting.\n\n\"Hmm?\"\n\n\"I was diagnosed two years ago with Rooney's anemia. They've tried a bone marrow transplant already, but I'm already showing signs of relapse. The doctors say I've probably only got six months. That's the same diagnosis you got two years before you disappeared. And you're still here. I need your cure.\"\n\n\"Did you bring your medical records with you?\"\n\nAllie reached into her bag, and produced a thick manilla folder. Harold accepted the stack of papers and began thumbing through it.\n\n\"Your doctor is a little out of his league here,\" Harold said after a couple of minutes. \"He doesn't have you on Rofanodol. Based on what I'm seeing here, that could get you another four or five years.\"\n\n\"Why wouldn't he have me on everything that treats this?\"\n\n\"When the papers published that I was diagnosed with Rooney's anemia, suddenly there was an enormous amount of research into curing the disease. The world didn't want to see The World's Smartest Man waste away because his blood couldn't hold on to the things a human needs to live. A fairly obscure report found that the antidepressant Rofanodol produced an unusual interaction in Rooney's patients - kept them stable for a while before they started declining again. It didn't get much attention because it wasn't the cure everyone was looking for. But your doctor should have caught it.\"\n\n\"That's great I guess, but what about-\" Allie started.\n\n\"I never had Rooney's, miss. My sister did. I told everyone that I had it so that all my fame could be used to find something more useful than cracking espionage codes.\"\n\n\"So what's the cure?\" Allie pressed.\n\nHarold sighed. \"You're not getting it.\"\n\n\"Getting what?\"\n\n\"My sister died. I disappeared. There is no cure.\"\n\n*****\n\nIf you enjoyed this, subscribe to [Pubby's Creative Workshop](https://www.reddit.com/r/Pubby88) to read the rest of my prompt responses."
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[WP] In early 2021, North Korea launches 1,000s of Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles. Except the missiles exit orbit, and early intelligence shows they were, in fact, lightly manned spacecraft journeying to explore the universe.
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"A Brief History of Earth and Their Departure\n\nTold by Captain Bennett of the United States Space Corps\n\n5/31/2053\n\nJournal Entry #634\n\n-CONTINUED FROM PREVIOUS ENTRY- \n\nAs it turns out, their labor camps were not really labor camps. I don’t know how North Korea managed to keep it a secret from us, but those camps were training what we assume were the best and brightest citizens for space travel. To where, we still aren’t sure. \n\nWhen the thousands of missiles launched back in 2021, the world trembled. Every country, even China and other former allies of North Korea were expecting the worst. The inevitable nuclear war had finally started. For some reason that is yet unknown, no other country fired their nukes. Maybe it was divine intervention. Maybe it’s just that no one wanted to actually see the end of the world. I don’t know, but thank the heavens they refrained. For they were the saviors of the human race.\n\nWhen we realized the missiles left our atmosphere, our fear left and was replaced by mere curiosity. A hint of fear was still present, naturally. We were more focused on why these missiles left our planet. What sinister plan to North Korea create that involved sending missiles into space?\n\nThat’s when our scans picked up life signs in the missiles. There were humans in the missiles! And not just one per missile, but five. Five North Koreans per missile. We estimated the missile population to be around 100,000. The news started calling them the Missilites. \n\nThis shocked the world more than when we thought they were nukes. We know what happens with nukes, but had yet to uncover why so many left this planet. What was their end game? These Missilites were an unknown, and that scared many.\n\nAll inquiries into North Korea about the rockets and the Missilites was blocked. No communication in or out. For a few years it remained like this. Absolutely no communication out of North Korea. Despite this, we knew a few things. They were building again. What, we knew not. Maybe more missiles, maybe actual nukes. It had the world’s intelligence agencies in a frenzy.\n\nOne day it all changed. North Korea held a press conference that would be streamed online to all who would want to watch. In this conference, they explained their purpose of the rockets. They plan to leave this earth, forever. We, they explained, had held them down for too long. They achieved safe and reliable nuclear flight, and will never return to this ticking time bomb.\n\nYou see, the reason recent tensions were so high between North Korea and the rest of the known world was because the North Koreans thought we were holding them back. That we didn’t care the earth would implode, and wanted the entire human race to die out. We were evil in their eyes. \n\nTheir nuclear program was not for weapons of war, but for space travel. Somehow they managed, with limited technology, to create thousands of small but powerful nuclear reactors to power the rockets. All of their failed missile launches into the Sea of Japan were tests of their reactors. \n\nOriginally, they planned to leave this earth to its doom, along with the rest of us. However, their minds were changed. It dawned on them that we knew not of the world’s impending implosion. How we knew not of this impending catastrophe baffled them. As it turns out, the first signs of implosion surfaced in North Korean mines. It had yet to present itself in other areas of the world.\n\n How they came to understand that the rest of the world didn’t know is unclear. Many conflicting reports exist. Whatever happened, I am thankful.\n\nThey showed us the key to nuclear flight. Soon, every country was busy constructing large spaceships, powered by these reactors. Within a few years, every country had enough space to leave with their entire population.\n\nSome stayed. They claimed we were following a crazy man into the unknown, just to die. There was no convincing them otherwise. It’s sad to say, but we had to leave them on our failed homeworld. \n\nWith these special reactors, we were able to travel faster than we previously could. Still, no one in our generation would live to see our promised land. We must wait, in the dark depths of space. We have decided which places have a chance to be suitable for habitat, but they are quite far off. One day, one generation will reach these promised lands and start anew. But it is not mine. All we have to do is endure so our descendants can enjoy life on a planet, as we once did.\n\nI write this in hopes that these events do not get forgotten. We had a saying. “Those who forget history tend to repeat it.” \n\n-END OF ENTRY-\n\n\n "
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[WP] You are convinced there is a human living above your bed at night. Your monster parents don't believe you.
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"Soft snuffling sounds started just as I was about to go deep into slumber. It started with a low, soft sound, and gradually grew into a rhythmic pattern.\n\nSNORRFLE. SNERRF. SNORE.\n\nOh. My. \n\nI couldn't fall back asleep. I just couldn't. \n\nI tried to recall what my Mum said about humans, and if she ever mentioned how to get out of this kind of situation. Funnily enough, the only time she ever mentioned it was to get me to do my school work.\n\n\"You'd better do your work, Grell...Or else, the humans up above will come and steal you from your sleep...\"\n\nI thought it was just a myth, man.\n\nSNOORGGH.\n\nHoly smokes, I'm outta here!\n\n\n\n\"Mum. Muuuum. MUMMMMM!!!\" I panicked and tried shaking her awake. After a few attempts, she woke and blinked the sleep out out her three eyes and stared at me, annoyed.\n\n\"If you're going to wake me up, it'd better be good, Grell!\"\n\n\"Mum, you know how you told me about the humans up above?...Well, there's one above my bed! I heard the snoring and snorgling sounds!\"\n\nI could see she didn't believe me. Not one bit. I could almost see the thoughts race across her face. With a sigh, she trundled out of bed, and pushed me out the door. Walking with me across the hallway, back to my room, she flipped on the lights. \n\n\"See, there is NOTHING there. I don't even hear anything...\"\n\nI looked up nervously at the ceiling, expecting to see the dreaded humanoid figures that always seemed to appear.\n\nNOTHING.\n\n\"Now go back to sleep. There are no such things as humans. Just close your eyes and think scary thoughts... Eventually, you'll feel better ok?\"\n\nShe kissed the top of my head, and tucked me into bed. I reached out a tentacle and held onto my mum's hand, still afraid. She gently let me go and flipped the lights back off.\n\nI lay awake staring at the ceiling, wondering if I was mistaken before.\n\nSNORGLE. SNERF. \n\nA humanoid face appeared, upside-down, just over the edge of the window.\n\nI think I'm screwed...\n\n\nEdit: for spelling and some grammar (I wrote this while sleepy...)\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"7:00 PM - I'm tired. It was a long day today. We are learning all about survival in the wild and how to protect ourselves against other deadly creatures. They do this thing in the forum where they pick a random scholar and drop them in the Deep Woods to see if they'll survive. I got chosen, and as you can see I survived. I encountered terrible animals but it was pretty easy to get back to the city from where I got dropped. I got incredibly frightened at one point, though. When I was first dropped in, I started walking in the general direction of the city. I kept hearing this crackling behind me. This ruffling of leaves. Whenever I turned around there was nothing there. I did the first thing one does in any survival situation. I sat down and cried. It's always good to get all the emotions out first. The rummaging behind me kept following me around so I knew that someone or something was back there. I started running and the leaf crunching got louder, so I turned around as quickly as I could and there I saw him for the first time. He was standing up completely straight. Skinny bones, skinny legs, skinny arms, but eyes that pierced through stones. His hair was messy and all over the place, as expected. His skin was the color of caramels. I almost panicked but realized that humans don't deal well with panic. I slowly backed away with my hands in the air. The human stared intently at me and watched me move, studiously. He went down into the ground and and with one quick action jumped into the trees above us. I started running. There was no way he was gonna catch me from above. Thankfully my feet carried me back to civilization before that human could do anything.\n\n8:30 PM - Ok. I may be tired but my bed won't be enough for me to fall asleep tonight. I know he's down there. I can feel his presence. I know he's waiting for the perfect opportunity to snatch me down and eat me up. If I bend over and look underneath, he might see that as an opportunity. If I get up he might see that as an opportunity. If I do nothing he might think I fell asleep and he might just come out! What to do!? Oh! Why don't I call my parents!? They'll know. This must have happened at some point in their lives right? Yeah. I'll do that.\n\n8:45 PM - Well. That didn't help. I quickly jumped from my bed and opened the door to avoid being taken by the beast underneath. I told my parents and they came in to check. All three of them came in and there was nothing anywhere in the room. I swear I felt it there. I'm afraid for my life now, because my parents don't believe me. They are the only ones that can protect me and they don't believe me!\n\n10:00 PM - Crap. Crap. Crap. I know he's there. My parents went to sleep and the whole neighborhood went to sleep already. I'm up, looking at the ceiling and waiting for my death to arrive. Since everybody is sleeping, everything is quiet. Since everything is quiet I can hear things I normally wouldn't hear like my own breathing. Well, that's fine until I start hearing a second breath being released. What I'm trying to say is I can hear the human breathing and seething. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike. I'm so scared I can hear my heartbeat! Thankfully I can't hear that beasts maniacal beat as well! All I can think is how I'm gonna fend off against the immense agility of the human that will inevitably attack me tonight.\n\n12:00 AM - I can hear him breathing. I can hear the floor crackling underneath me as he gets restless and bloodthirsty. Multiple times I have heard nails scratching against the hard wood floor and mumblings under breaths. I am one hundred percent sure that if I stay completely still that the human will attack. That's a bad thing. I need to stay moving to show him that I'm still awake and that he should not attack but sooner or later he will grow too restless and I will grow impatient for my death.\n\n4:00 AM - These were the most intense 4 hours of my entire 17 year old life. I decided to keep moving around but I got tired of that and just laid here thinking of other things or at least trying to. Maybe if I think happy thoughts, I'll die happy. I stopped moving altogether and closed my eyes to rest for a bit, knowing that this could mean my life will end. I woke up with a sudden jolt. I felt like I was falling and as soon as I opened my eyes I let out the biggest shriek and monsters will ever hear. It was as loud as I could fathom and as high pitched as an Opera Singer. The human was standing right there with his hands ups be a grin as wide as his face! His eyes were diabolical and I was paralyzed with fear. Death literally stared me in the face. The human started his attack on my husky body. He clawed at my skin while I swung for his head with each of my arms. Problem is that monsters are terribly slow when it comes to moving. The movement we are really good at is running because we speed up exponentially until we reach our limit, so we are pretty fast after a while. My arms didn't touch him and his claws kept gnawing away at my furry flesh. I decided to bear hug him and try to squeeze him out of existence but that didn't work because he just kept clawing at my back when I hugged. So I started holding his neck but that's when he really went insane! He started clawing, kicking, punching and even spitting at me. It all started to consume me and I was feeling pretty droopy. This guy had cleaned himself in all his life and now he's spitting at my face! That smells was enough to kill the devil himself! I fell back as soon as I saw an immense light fill the room. Apparently that was parents who decided to listen for once!\n\n(Sorry got lazy. Leaving it there.)"
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Inspired by https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/60ivao/whats_a_sign_that_things_are_about_to_go_south/df6t3cy/
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[WP] Your cat snatched your car keys from their usual spot. Chasing it outside, you notice that it's very quiet - not a bird chirping, not a fly buzzing. The cat is furiously clawing at your car's door.
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"I was just reaching into the back of the fridge when Roland jumped on my head. I guess I should clarify a little bit here; Roland is my cat, a brown and white little bastard of a cat. Well he's not always like this, he just gets angry when I don't show him enough attention and the new job has been taking up most of my time these days. I guess he finally got sick of it. \"Argh! Ok, look here you little bitch.\" I start as I throw him off my head. \"I know I've been busy these days but that's no excuse for you to-\" I'm cut off abruptly by the little minx jumping on my chest sinking his claws into my flesh. I scream and grab for him but he uses me as a pivot and leaps to the counter. \"Alright Roland I'm just about to have your punk ass declawed!\" I growl as I check the skin on my chest. He retorts by padding across the counter with his tail held high pink asshole glaring back at me. \"You fucker.\" I mutter and examine the reddening holes in my white shirt. I look up to yell at him and see him calmly seated on the edge of the counter right next to my stupidly expensive iPhone. I shake my head at him and slowly move within grabbing distance. He paws it nonchalantly off the table. \"FUCK!\" I yell as I rush to grab at him. He dodges easily and snatches my car keys off the table with his teeth. He is darting across the floor to the front door before I can even readjust my trajectory but when I do I rocket after him. I near the door just in time to see his white tipped tail slip outside. I be damned if that cat gets the best of me again today, I think angrily as I yank open the door. \"I swear to god if you think I'm going to chase you all around the neighborhood for those keys-\" I stop, my subconscious whispering something at me. Like always it's the smarter part of my mind and like always I ignore it. I start for the car where Roland is sitting. Coming to a stop in front of him I put my hands on my hips giving him the evil eye. \"I hope you understand what this means.\" I say jerking my head at the placement of my hands. He turns his back on me again and I prepare to pounce on him but he leaps elegantly to the hood of the car and drops the keys there. I reach carefully for the keys thinking that this is a trick to decapitate on of my fingers. When I clasp them gently I look carefully at my devilish cat and notice something odd. His ears are not moving side to side they are pointed straight at me. My subconscious jams its heel into my conscious mind and kicks it into gear. The only way his ears could be focused totally on me is if there is nothing else to hear around us. I listen myself. Nothing. Not the buzzing of insects not the screaming of children, nothing. Suddenly his ears twitch and one of them faces back. \"Ha! Not so smart today subconscious.\" I chuckle. I pull the keys from the hood and both Roland's ears start moving. \"Mrrrrroooow!\" He coos and scratches at the hood of the car. I screw up my mouth. \"After all this you want to get in the car? You want to go for a ride, is that it?\" I sigh and unlock the car. \"Fine but you owe me one for all that bullshit.\" No sooner is the car door open than does he slip and side and into the passenger seat. \"You are a strange cat.\" I mumble as I get in and buckle up. I back the small Toyota out of the drive way and kick it into drive. \"Maybe we should go to the vet and have you declawed. How about that Roland?\" I say with a devilish smile. His tail bushes up instantly but he simply circles his seat and lays down. I shake my head at my strange cat and focus on the road. The ground cracks ahead of me and I skid the car to a stop. \"Holy sh-\" the crack widens and spider webs the ground leading up to my car. \"Ooooh, hell!\" I yell as I spin the car around anxiously. I'm nearly lined up with the street when I hear the ground start falling away behind us. I coax all the power I can out of the engine as the little Toyota screams down the sleepy suburb. I'm hyperventilating now and I look down at Roland expecting to see him clawing up the seat but he just sits there piercing me with his judgmental gaze. \"I swear if you say anything about my buying this shitty Toyota,\" I begin and throw a glance over my shoulder, \"We are going to have a falling out.\" I snake down the winding streets and I am grateful that there is no traffic today. In fact I see no other cars on the road but at this point I can't be bothered about that. What I am actually bother about, I think as I flatten the gas pedal, is these giant ass trees that are crashing to the ground just behind my car. \"I never like those trees anyway, they always looked down on me.\" I say to Roland. To his credit he actually lays his head down covers his eyes with a paw. Still tearing down the empty streets I chance a glance in the rear view and see that the giant crater behind me has stopped widening. I slowly let the whining Toyota engine wind down and come to a stop in the middle of the street. I throw my hand behind the passengers seat and examine the streets behind me. \"Huh, I guess it stopped.\" I say to Roland who has climbed up on the dashboard. I climb out of the car Roland on my heels. Actually more like on my leg. \"Come on man I thought we were good now.\" He climbs to the ground and prances to the side of the street. I'm forced into a light jog to keep up with him but luckily he stops right when he reaches the curb. I slow to a walk and prepare some more useless banter to throw at my uncomprehending cat when a blearing light cuts through the air. I'm stunned into silence as it widens and two grey striped cats jump out from it. \"Lets go.\" One says in perfect English. Roland moves to the shimmering hole in the air. \"What about the human?\" The other says jerking its head at me. Roland stops and turns halfway giving me a once over. \"We take him.\" "
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[WP] Out of boredom, the strongest Adventurer in the world decides to disguise themselves. They pretend to be a new adventurer, just fresh out of training.
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"'Let's smite crabs with this branch!' I yelled. \nThen everything broke inside me. My young innocence refound, I sobbed. Great wracking soul sobs at the horrors I had exponentially created in my journeys. I thought it was all about levelling up until I levelled down. Freedom from the cursed game.\n\nOnly the tree could save me, and the rope...."
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[WP] You have the ability to freeze time. But one night while the world is frozen around you, the sun begins to rise anyway...
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"\"Hey Joanna, I'm back,\" an old hoarse voice broke the stillness of the air, followed by the sound of wheels being dragged along the floor. Amidst the quiet office, where everything was held perfectly in place without a single movement and noise, a lone figure moves along the aisle.\n\nAs he made his way across the office of Leon and Co, he passed through the vacant eyes belonging to the employees. They were all frozen in their place, just like everything around them, except for the man. He found what he was looking for, and placed the chair in his hand in front of a woman, who had a phone in her hand.\n\nThe man sat on the chair, placing both his hands beneath his chin, his eyes staring at the woman. \"How long has it been, Joanna? Ten years, twenty years?\" he asked. There was no reply. Like it had always been.\n\nThe man chuckled to himself. \"I still can't find a way to undo what I have done, Joanna. Even after all these years. And look at me, I'm already getting so much older than you.\" He ran his hand across his head, revealing the graying patches among them.\n\n\"And all I wanted was to make the world a better place,\" the man sighed heavily. His thoughts ran back to when the world was still normal, when time passed normally for everyone, not just himself.\n\n\"I thought I could go on using my power forever, but how wrong I was. One day, everything just remained frozen in time, and despite how I tried, I can't seem to undo it.\"\n\nTears began welling up in the man's eyes. \"Oh Joanna, the things I have done to undo this curse. But everything is just so futile. Perhaps, if I cease to exist, things would finally return to normal.\"\n\nLeaning close to Joanna, the man pecked on her lips lightly, letting the sensation fill his body. How he missed her warm embrace. He then dragged the chair back to the receptionist, leaving it there, just like he has always been. One last time.\n\n-------\n\n/r/dori_tales\n",
"As the entire world stood at standstill, I enjoyed my nightly ritual of exploring the night and liberating myself from my parent’s home. I usually go to a far neighbor’s house and steal a bowl of ice-cream, nothing that they would miss, or a few cookies then read a chapter or two of my favorite book. I’ve seen all the movies where those who abuse their power end up receiving some severe temporal punishment for interfering with time, so I don’t try to win the lottery or humiliate those I don’t like; I stop time so I can have a few moments to enjoy myself. \n\nAs I completed the last book in the series I had started about a week earlier by the light of a streetlamp, I noticed something bizarre: the sun. From across the world, the sun crept from the horizon, slowly bathing the planet in its golden rays. My heart jumped as I threw the book down and raced down the street. With my lungs sore and my legs aching, I reached my house and peered into the window, figuring I must have restarted time at some point and that my parents would try to wake me any moment. With luck on my side, I didn’t notice my parents’ usual shuffling downstairs at dawn, so, as quietly as I could managed, opened the front door and found myself in the entrance hall.\n\nDespite the sun slowly making its progress against the sky, the clock on the wall still read 2:14 am. I thought the battery had died, so I checked the microwave, stove, and finally the clock on my phone, which confirmed the same time. Going to my parent’s bedroom, I found them motionless in sleep, still frozen in time. Without much direction, I paced the length of the house trying to determine exactly what was happening. When I peered outside, the sun continued to rise, while birds still hung in the sky like decorations.\n\nFiguring I couldn’t restart time now, since it might cause a minor catastrophe if time skipped ahead a few hours for most people, I decided I could spend the day doing as I pleased. Taking my old car to the library, I passed a squirrel, frozen on the trunk of a tree, as I walked into the entrance. Borrowing a few books on historical figures that I barely knew, I walked out the library and passed the same tree, but found the squirrel had moved. Once on the trunk, it was now on the ground, inching its limbs as if it were a sloth. \n\nLooking to the streets, I found a similar phenomenon: cars once held at a standstill were now moving a few inches per minute. Consulting my phone, I found that time had moved by 45 minutes, despite my best efforts to keep it stopped. Even with a stunted movement of time according to my watch, the sun continued at its normal pace and even seemed to gain speed, as if it needed to make up for lost time. With only a few hours separating my present with the sun rise, I consulted the stone sun dial in front of the library, which indicated the time as 3:25 pm. \n\n*Oh man,* I thought. *I broke time.*\n\n******\n\nMore stories at r/Andrew__Wells"
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[WP] You can feel and speak to the soul of every machine you touch.
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"The printer was filthy. And I'm not talking like dust-on-the-fuser-unit sort of filthy. I'm saying this printer was into some real weird shit.\n\nI guess I should've known. I should've known by the brand name and I should've known by that bulky shape and those sharp, masculine edges and that unassuming matte finish that this was gonna be a weird one. And he was. I could've gotten a Canon, or a Xerox, or an Epson, or even an HP if I was desperate enough. I could've gotten any of those, and I'm sure they would've been perfectly respectable machines worth talking to. But instead I'd gotten a Brother. Or, as Chad told me (and yes, his name was Chad), *you can just call me \"Bro\"*.\n\nWhen I first got this superpower, I'd thought it was fantastic. I'd been watching a lot of Marvel shows on Netflix and I thought maybe I could team up with Daredevil and Luke Cage and all these badasses and I could round out the upcoming Defenders team with my newfound ability to talk to machines. Machineface, they'd call me. Although, truth be told, my face didn't look anything like a machine. So maybe they'd call me Machinebrain? Telepathic Machine Magician? I don't know, none of these had the right ring to them. None of them had substance. La Machina. That's what they would call me. Maybe I'd get a luchador mask, just to really sell it to the Hispanic crowd. La Machina. Fuckin' a.\n\nBut then I'd met Chad. I'd brought him home with me from the Office Depot and I'd spent the better part of an hour working out his wireless connection while he wouldn't stop talking, saying \"Bro, bro, just hit the blinking button. I can connect to ANYTHING, you just gotta hit their button at the same time. New technology, bro. Do it, man. Just do it.\" And I'd hit the blinking button and nothing had happened and Chad kept rattling off his wisdom. That was about how the initial setup with Chad had gone and by the end of it I was really wishing I'd gotten a more mild-mannered Epson instead.\n\nBut it didn't end there. As I said, the printer was filthy. Anytime I came within range where my superpower -- the superpower of La Machina -- took effect, Chad would say some horrible shit to me. \"Hey bro,\" he'd say, and the \"bro\" in \"Brother\" would light up on his touch-screen. \"Hey bro, I hear you got a sexy-ass toaster in the kitchen with smart-toasting enabled. How bout you bring her over here and I'll bluetooth her blue waffles if you know what I mean.\" At the time, I didn't know what he'd meant but I'd googled it and I tell you what, this Bro was filthy.\n\nI'd made an attempt to stay away from the corner that Chad dwelt in, but it wasn't always possible. And horrifyingly enough, the more I stayed away, the dirtier he seemed to get. There was one day when I had to replace a toner cartridge, and when I -- La Machina -- got within range of Chad, he started mumbling all sorts of horrible shit, like, \"Yeah fill me up with that toner big boy, fill me up, put it in me, put that big black toner cartridge into me.\" Fucking Chad.\n\nAt one point, I'd had a family meeting with all the other appliances to try and decide what to do. The fridge had been fairly uninterested in the discussion because truth be told, he was old and had no wireless connectivity and so Chad couldn't interact with him. The router had been far less unbiased on the situation, as he'd had to deal with every packet of filth that Chad forwarded to him. The toaster, she was just terrified, and she made me promise to never bring her within Bluetooth range of Chad.\n\nAnd so it was decided by myself and the rest of the machines in my apartment that Chad had to go. He was done.\n\nIt wasn't easy for me. I'd had to unplug him as he screamed in agony and I'd had to take him to the electronics recycling place where I could feel his lifeforce leave him as they crushed him up and recovered his capacitors. But I did what I had to do. I did what my superpower demanded of me. With great power comes, well, you know the rest. Fuckin' Daredevil would've been proud."
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Each inmate is given a bag of supplies that would last 7 days planet side, then it is up to the individual to survive with whatever the planet provides. You have just arrived on this planet with your bag
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[WP]Human technology has advanced enough to travel beyond the spped of light. The stars have opened for colonization on all habitable planets. Like in times past, however, there is still crime. To mitigate crime rates, a planet was set aside for all people who commit these atrocities.
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"The head of the Arbities Galaxia rubbed his fore head once again in so many minutes as he re-read the acceptance notice sent from the Galactic Senate again.\n\nHis plan was sound, have a single barely livable planet serve as a common dumping ground for the worst criminal scum of the whole galaxy.\n\nThe planet was at the time he proposed this solution known only as RJ-45D9 it was a low Earth class planet, it had breathable air that was a bit on the thin side of the safety scale as was the average quality of the water but beyond that and the 0.85 G gravity the planet itself was liveable.\n\nThe local plant life was edible but harder than average to digest but that was offset by the local wildlife that due to their oversized nature if you could kill them were actually quite tasty to the point that it might one day serve as a prime export should the planet ever be fully colonized by law abiding people.\n\nIt had taken months to work out the logistics and legalities but he and his people had managed to do it, then another few months for the Senate to do their usual squabbling bit even though no particular party could find a major fault in the idea.\n\nBut there in lie the issue that now caused him to wish for the largest bottle of whiskey he could get his hands on.\n\nThe Senate before passing the motion decided they wanted to rename the planet to something that wasn't so generic and in what could only be called a visit by the proverbial “Good Idea Fairy” they reached into a old Terran history book for the name.\n\n“Australia, they just had to name it Australia.”\n\nIf enough people remembered any of their ancient earth history this could turn into a PR nightmare, his PR nightmare.",
"Oblivis. The planet of the damned.\n\nWhen I was a child I my father told me stories about it. A promising new colony at the outskirts of the known world. Floods of colonists - he included - jumped in the transports, eager to start a new life, far distant from the ominpresent eye of the Empire. Too distant, for Parliament. They deemed the Planet too secluded to govern after the colonies started to use ther distance to the government to establish their own system and their own laws. The Lords of Earth feared the new planet and its potential, so they gave it a new purpose. Oblivis was changed from the shining new colony, to a dumping ground for all the vilest scum of the universe. It had become the exile for all the prisoners of the habited systems, sent there to life or die on their own. And eventually to be forgotten.\n\nI had never thought I would see it: The vast deserts and dense jungles my father spoke of; The starry nights that revealed two moons watching over the monstrous mountain ranges that reached up to the sky like a child reaches to it's caring mother's breasts.\n\nI almost didn't believe it was true. A place as untouched by civilisation as this. But as the eclipsed form of the planet was dragged into the view of the shuttle's window, veiling the sun's light and looming menacingly over our small spacecraft, I was forced to acknowledge that this place is as real as the people that stared beside me. Their eyes betrayed their faces. I could see the terror in every one of them. They look of this red monstrosity flooded their minds with fear. Fear of yet another prison that would claim their lifes, though this one they would never flee.\n\nThere was no terror in my eyes. Had one of them bothered to pay any attention to them, they would only have seen the keen look of determination. Where their eyes gazed upon a cage, mine saw freedom.\n\nThe appearence of Oblivis had created silenced the crowd. The screeching sound of the deployment signail's short echoing bursts of sound only pronounced the silence further, as each of us returned to his pod without saying a word and prepared for landing. I detested the pod's narrow space windowless walls as I detested the whole shuttle. They were just another arm of the empire, hellbent on keeping me from their precious 'Order'. But in that moment I tolerated their grasp. For right then, this pod was about to release me from the Empires unrelenting chains and just as I felt the pressure of the seatbelts tensening, I heard the sound of scratching metal and began to fall.\n\nI forgot the landing. The first thing I remember is waking up in the pitchblack inside of my pod and the biggest headache of my life. With great effort I tried to push the door out. After a short struggle with my hands, the metal shot out like a champagne cork by itself. Blinding light immediately filled my vision. I could feel the closer proximity to the sun as it heated my skin. Surprisingly though it dind't hurt. It didn't feel as hot as I expected, as I slowly opended my eyes and climbed out of the pod, the sun's warmth felt like a welcoming embrace by my new home. Though this welcoming feeling soon faded as I realized where I ended up. I was surrounded by three other pods, one of their passengers struggling to remove his survival pack from the hot metal. We were in the middle of a desert. Redish sandand encompassed us to all sides. But the more troubling sight was the appearence of three riders in the distance, their shilouettes pronounced by the rising sun to their backs. As they approached I realized they were riding horses, not wildlife from Oblivis. The swiftly arrived at our landing site. Three men, wearing brown vests or white shirts, that barely fulfilled the job of concealing their breast hair - a rather impossible job to be fair. The closest one approached me, slowly maneuvering his 'horse' through the rubble. Now that I could see it clearly, I realized this creature only beared a slight resemblance to horses in form. It had dark red fur and a mane much more furious than that of the horses I have seen and it's head was crowned by two hurns that curled backwards along it's neck like a battering ram. Far more unsettling though, was the rider. His wide brimmed hat veiled his features in shadow, though I could make out smoke that rose from a cigarette somewhere in his face. Before I could say something he pulled his gun on me. The slight surring sound it emitted suggested I would rather not be on the other side of that barrel when it fires.\n\n\"How many of you landed here?\" The rough voice asked.\n\n\"Only the three you can see here, though we were around 50 on the shuttle.\" I tried to sound as confident as you could be when stared at by the wrong end of a gun.\n\n\"Three is enough to carry one of those capsules to the city.\" A man behind the first rider said.\n\n\"Nah, It's only scraps.\" The man with the hat gestured towards me and the two behind me. \n\n\"If you hurry you'll reach the city in twelve days.\" Pointing towards the Sun he continued. \"Go there or starve in the waste for all I care\" He flicked his cigarette to the side and fished for something in his saddlebag. \"This might help you with the sun.\" He said as he threw a hat, not unsimilar to his own at my feet.\" Then he spurred his mount to turn around.\nAs he returned to his comrades and I picked up the hat I heared the criminals behind me discussing to kill me for my provisions. I couldn't help but smile.\n\nThis is freedom.",
"\"ATTENTION ALL CONVICTED! ATTENTION ALL CONVICTED! IN THE NEXT THIRTY SECONDS THE CARGO DOORS WILL OPEN AND YOUR WRIST RESTRAINTS WILL BE UNLOCKED. THERE ARE EIGHTY TWO PARACHUTES ATTACHED TO THE RACK IN THE CENTER AISLE...LOOKS LIKE YOU LOT GOT LUCKY THERE ARE ONLY ONE HUNDRED AND THREE OF YOU. GOOD LUCK,AND MAY THE COUNCIL OF THE FIVE PLANETS GUIDE YOUR SAFETY!\" the pilots voice boomed from the loudspeaker.\n\nGwayne looked up to see if anyone had made eye contact with him, an Earth native with dreadlocks was staring at him intently and he knew the large man intended to kill him as the cargo doors made an extremely high pitched whistle opening. The large bay countdown timer began and he looked for any other takers that saw him as a weak man to pick off, but most of them were shitting their pants. Gwayne had become used to it, and he thrived in hostility despite his small size.\n\nHe could feel the slight electrical charge just before the restraints pinning him to the wall clicked and released. He ignored the parachutes and instantly prepared himself for the tackle by the Earthling on the opposite wall. At the last second Gwayne sidestepped while swiping his locked elbow directly at the man's throat making him pass out instantly. The momentum of the man's charge ended on a steel bracket cleaving his skull in two. \n\nThe rest of the convicts were scrambling for a parachute, and the man to the right of Gwayne watched as the Earthling he just dispatched seized and convulsed as he bled out. Gwayne watched as the man's face went pale and he puked on himself. Slowly the convicts piled out of the cargo doors leaving the rest to fight for the eight or so parachutes left. Gwayne looked for his opportunity and saw that one man in a red Mars Nation vest had tripped and been knocked out he dashed for him followed by the man who had just puked.\n\nGwayne reached the passed out man keeping a close eye on his new friend behind him and started to take off the Martian's parachute. Gwayne jumped when the Martian gasped for air and held Gwayne's wrists tight, instinctively Gwayne gave the Martian a solid right hook but the Martian's jaw was solid and it was clear he was not going to let go of the chute when Gwayne saw the man's hand reaching for the ripcord.\n\n\"Oh sh...\" Gwayne started but his legs locked up as the force of the ejection cartridge ripped him from the bay of the space vessel and held tight to the chest buckle.\n\nGwayne almost lost his grip as he realized his puke buddy had grabbed his legs too, as the chute spun around them unraveling. Mr. Puke had no certain purchase and was thrown from the mass of three like a ragdoll when the chute found it's solid bearing. Something snapped and Gwayne realized his arm had gone numb before passing out from the pain. \n\nThe rushing wind brought him back and he came out of the daze looking up. Gwayne's wrist was broken and bent at an odd angle, a jumbled knot of the Martian's snapped neck and the chutes load bearing tether was the only thing holding Gwayne to the chute. At least he would make it to the ground of planet Fulsom Colonial Prison, he attempted to raise himself so he could reach the brake handles of the parachute but even moving slightly made his entire arm and chest hurt. After trying two more times he was too exhausted and in pain to even care, Fulsom's sky was not like the other colonial planets Gwayne had been to. \n\nFulsom's sky was a deep crimson that faded into a purple hue, it's natural satellites had the familiar logo of a red green red, the same as the space vessel and the correctional ID graff they had burned into each inmates chest at admissions. It was mesmerizing despite the situation and Gwayne's eyes began to water fiercely as the parachute picked up speed and the ground beneath him got closer. He realized if he did not find a way to slow down he would certainly break his legs. He caught the glint of metal attached to one of the pockets of the chute pack. A knife! He took a guess and estimated he still had a good two minutes before he would reach the surface and just his luck it was rocky terrain.\n\nHe could see several of the inmates had no clue how to use the wind brakes and were already writhing on the ground as a group of terrestrial natives appeared from the nearest treeline. Gwayne centered himself and took a large breath and swung himself upward hearing his wrist crunch and blocked out the agonizing pain, after his second try he got a firm grip and realized he could use it for leverage to reach the handbrake. He spun around and easily grabbed the right brake which whipped him in a pirouette, but it slowed down the chute considerably as the ground spun beneath him. He could now make out some of the faces on the ground.\n\nThe inertia of the parachute spinning him around made him dizzy but he tried to look for threats, he would most certainly be attacked as soon as he landed. There were hundreds of scavengers coming out of the woods now and adrenaline replaced his pain with fear, he turned his head to get a look at his wrist, it was fucked, his entire hand was already swollen with pressurized blood. When he was twenty feet above ground he let go of the brake and grabbed the knife as he dropped twisting it to release it from it's sheath watching the crazed natives swarm on the new arrivals like locusts.\n\nHe was lucky that none of the savages were focused directly on him and as soon as he rammed into the ground Gwayne stepped on the dead Martian's head as the tether gave slack and cut his wrist free cutting the man's neck unintentionally spraying his face with thick red arterial blood. The relief of pressure almost made him pass out again and he looked up panicked when the parachute hit his face and covered him knocking him down. Gwayne used the knife to cut into the chute and poked his head through and there were already ten spear wielding mad men with blood on their faces thrusting the spears into the Martian's already dead body. \n\nFor the first time since Gwayne was a child, he was terrified, and hid in the parachute there was no way he could take on these men and he accepted the fact he would probably die.\n\n\"CLAIMED!\" Gwayne heard one of the men yell loudly.\n\n\"Wait, that one is already dead you IDIOT! Look at his neck, no claim, commune product!\" another shouted.\n\n\"Bullshit, Cuda, I killed the man I get his pack!\" they argued.\n\nGwayne recognized what they meant by claiming the dead, he had heard stories of some states on Fulsom having a communistic monarchy. He knew what he should do but he was terrified to be caught in a lie, but it was his only chance of survival. He could either wait and risk being caught or pretend to be one of them and claim the dead martian as his kill.\n\n\"CLAIM!\" Gwayne yelled from beneath the chute and ripped it open with his knife looking at the men around him who were slightly surprised.\n\n\"Lies! Shortarse! You only half killed the fish, I pierced his heart! Halfsies.\" the grizzly looking one with the spear in his hand debated.\n\n\"No. I killed him fair and square. My claim, my pack!\" Gwayne protested with the best acting he had ever produced out of thin air giving the man the coldest stare he could muster.\n\n\"Haha shrimp has heart, Cuda, look at the shrimp, who is your den mother shrimp? I want to fuck him in the ass for creating quality grit from so little meat!\" the grizzly one laughed playfully.\n\n\"I ain't gotta' explain shit to you, I earned my first pack and I'll not let the likes of you deny me of my claim!\" Gwayne shot back trying not to show his amazement at his illusion actually working.\n\n\"Careful boy, this is Water Bear you speak to so brazenly, king of the blue huts.\" one of the men next to him stated casually picking through one of the other dead inmates packs.\n\nThe one he had heard Water Bear call Cuda only stared doubtfully at Gwayne and Gwayne knew that he had seen through the falsehood of his little act.\n\n\"So boy speak your king's name and the pack is yours.\" WaterBear commanded and Gwayne tried not to let the dramatic loss of words show on his face and met Cuda's eyes pleading.\n\nAfter an awkward silence Gwayne was just about to mumble a name.\n\n\"The boy is one of my wards, I did not recognize him with his cherry popped, shrimp...that will be your blood name...Pistolshrimp. The pack is yours boy, make your way to the yellowhuts commons with it so you can graduate to warrior class and wait for my summons.\" the man name Cuda lied possibly saving Gwayne's life.\n\nIf gratitude was ever expressed through a person's expression Gwayne was showing it indefinitely trying not to reveal their shared lie to the other men watching. Gwayne removed the pack and started following the other men to the treeline, they had killed every last new arrival as far as Gwayne could tell...except for him.",
"It’s difficult to grasp the cosmic scale of how large the planet Ettridea II is. The phrase “larger than Jupiter” is thrown around a lot, but that doesn’t really do it justice. Ettridea II, or “E2” as most people call it is the largest known rocky body in the universe. There’s a few gas giants, near stars, that are comparable in size, but nowhere near the mass, and only slightly less inhabitable.\n\nSince the criminal reform of AE 3522, E2 has been the home of several billion criminals, all of whom are sentenced to live out their days on the planets unforgiving surface. For some, that sentence is very brief. Others have found ways to survive, even thrive here. This was what I gleaned on the ride over in the prison transport. We’re given a “supply bag,” more of a crate really, and dropped in one remote area or another. Many criminals, once convicted, chose to end their own lives. They were even allowed to choose their means of execution rather than be sent to the wastelands. E2 prompted many to select “instant death” over “prolonged painful death.”\n\nThe climate is unpredictable. The daylight is slightly irradiated, and the atmosphere can scar your lungs…if you live long enough for that to happen. There is a state of the art network of defense drones that orbit the planet. They maintain themselves, and can travel to any location using near instantaneous propulsion. If you try to leave E2, you’re greeted by a battleship sized metallic monstrosity with a glowing orange eye. It’s also the last thing you’ll ever see; the eye focuses on every molecule of water in your body and instantly vaporizes them. If you’re foolish to attempt to build a space craft, as others have been in the past, or to try to phone in outside help to escape, they can combine their mass to create a giant battering ram of a craft. Think bugs on a windshield. E2 is the place where nightmares go to die.\n\nThe supply bag contains some food, a cloak to keep warm, means to construct a fire, and one somewhat primitive firearm. It has been coded and reprogrammed to only fire once. The barrel must be placed to the user’s temple and the user’s DNA must match what has been entered into the database. This is only for the user to end their own life. It can’t be used for another purpose, not even hunting, not that the wildlife could be taken down by a single charge. The smallest creature that roams the surface weighs several tons and has blood that is more basic than drain cleaner. They also have tusks and teeth and claws and a bit of a temper problem. Not exactly livestock material.\n\nAs the shuttle brought me to the surface I made the best mental map I could of the area. I was landing in the sub-arctic. The sandy, frigid, desolate area maybe ten thousand miles south of the north pole, give or take. That meant that I’d have a few years of travel ahead of me. I had a destination. The equator is the most habitable area of the planet; temperatures are generally warm enough to support human life year-round, the acid rainstorms are less frequent, and the background radiation is lower. \n\nMore importantly, I need to find the one they call Eli. One of the first prisoners to be sent here, he is rumored to still be alive. The “wardens” reported that he’d show himself once every few decades and then go back into hiding. Sometimes he’d kill a few new prisoners, occasionally he’d hunt down some of the more violent older ones, but only a few truly knew why he was here. Some thought he was simply a murderer, others assumed he’d been a pirate in the early days of space travel, some assumed that he’d discovered time travel, based off of his extreme age, and used it to alter the fabric of reality as we know it, but they were all wrong. His government sanctioned experiments are the reason that there is no more Ettridea I. He created the second star in the sky…at the cost of nearly twelve billion souls.\n\nI have a proposition for him; I think I know how to bring back Ettridea I. "
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[WP] In this world, liars, thieves, and cheats are rewarded for their creativity and problem solving.
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"\"And that is how, by the third quarter, we should be able to complete the equity recapitalization of 20% of our competitor's market share.\" He let the last syllable of his briefing hang in the air, and everyone clapped. Even Amy, whose ideas about real estate he had 'borrowed'. Even Chad, who glared hatefully even as he clapped. Even Ron, who had done most of the work on the presentation in the first place.\n\nHe knew they were all whispering about him, to the execs, all in an attempt to secretly make him fail and get selected for the VP position instead of him. But he whispered about them first - and better.\n\nAfter the briefing, the current VP - slated for president of the company soon, if all went well, and all always went well - approached him. \"Hey! Good ideas you got there. So, I'm going to go run a few rounds up by the local country club, and I could use someone worse than me at the game so I could look good in front of the Chairman of the Board. You in?\"\n\nHe knew that this was it - essentially his invitation to take the position. He'd schmoozed with the execs for months now, spending far more than he had the salary to spend and dipping as needed into the books that he was the one in charge of auditing - just like he knew all of them did. And so he kept up. And so he was beating Amy, and Chad, and Ron. And so he was winning at life.\n\n\"Of course I'm in.\"",
"A glass of whisky in hand, the Escapist considered the figure in front of him: a man bound by ropes hanging with his head at the lower end. Like a pendulum in its dying oscillations he was not exactly swinging. \n\nHe emptied the glass with a decisive splash in the flushed face of his subject. The eyes of his subject flicked open. His veins looked furious at his temples and neck. \n\n\"A long time ago,\" the Escapist said, \"you taught a class this, 'You either learn to mould yourself into the shape of the spaces in the system, or you outsmart the system entirely.' Do you remember that?\"\n\nAt first, there wasn't an apparent indication from the subject. But slowly, like he had just found his voice, a sound emerged from the parched canal, \"Yeeeessss...\"\n\nThe Escapist grinned to himself. \n\n\"Well, I shared a loveless marriage with your daughter, took your empire and squeezed it dry. I do think I've outsmarted the system, haven't I?\"\n\n\"You miserable fool. You could have had the riches of true family *and* all this money. Instead, you've become a liar, a thief and a cheat.\"\n\n\"The world rewards liars, thieves and cheats. I'm free now. No one will ever lord over me again.\"\n\n\"You have nothing. And you are destined to die alone.\"\n\n\"Oh don't you worry, you won't be around to see if you're right.\"\n\n---\n\nSubscribe to my stories on [Fivens](https://fivenswrite.wordpress.com/2017/03/16/3110/)\n \n*Edited typos*",
"Being a good person is a difficult endeavor, it’s also be boring. All the same, most people do not want to be bad people either. But when there is a no trespassing sign on a decaying, abandoned building, what person doesn’t have the urge to jump the fence? Sure, the building could have been condemned and the owners do not want to be sued for injury on property. But what makes that no trespassing sign so enticing? Is it the thrill of breaking the law or is it the frustration of restriction? It’s just a space to share on the earth, if the space is empty, why not occupy it?\n\nSociety celebrates differently when people do good things. They share heartwarming stories that tickle our limbic system. But while we are feeling all warm and fuzzy, we rarely feel jealousy. We rarely say “Why can’t I be that good?” If you hear a good Samaritan used his spare Epinephrine injector to save the child whose pudgy fingers just took the last packet of trail mix, you don’t wish that you were like the good Samaritan. One, carrying around an epipen means you need it, two, no one wants to see a child suffer. And if you could do good, say volunteering, well that is something most people have the ability to do. It’s nothing interesting. \n\nThe creative yet harmless criminal on the other hand, is enticing. No, not the criminal who steals your bank account number and spends it all on expensive clothing. He is just annoying. But perhaps the one who logged into your email and sent you an email from your own account. She is just funny and clever. Then again, more destructive creative crime is still appealing. The modern media industry is flooded with mobster stories, hackers, the smart yet dangerous, and the smart and powerful. Everyone is so flawed. And as most crime involves creativity and problem solving, why not encourage it a bit?\n\nThis was our intention. Our pilot program. It’s not even that surprising. The government does it now for certain hackers. They recruit the clever. This program was unannounced. Stealing is still illegal. Shoplifting is still illegal. Everything that was illegal is still illegal. But if we catch them and their crime was interestingly executed, they will not be charged. They will not be portrayed as scum in the media. On the contrary, their crime will never be revealed and we will use them.\n\nWhat better way to identify those people who may have slipped through intellectual cracks? Except for their dishonesty, these criminals are the best strategic minds in the world. We can use them to confuse the enemy, to put the con in consumer, and to have unlimited resources. There is another thing about doing “good” things. It’s hard to obtain the tools to do so. Anyways, one particularly interesting individual has been on our radar lately. And her name was Cassidy. \n\t\nAddition:\nCassidy appeared normal. She had a normal amount of friends, wasn’t particularly emotionally disturbed, at least no more than anyone else was. She grew up with a normal family who ate dinner in front of the television. They watched game shows and she liked to play along. And she was fairly good at it. But some games required memorising random facts and she wasn’t one to enjoy reading. She preferred music. Her brain was filled with songs. But she didn’t enjoy playing music either. She just enjoyed listening. And perhaps her love of music is how this all started. At the age of fifteen, Cassidy asked her mother and father to purchase tickets to a concert of a band she loved. Her birthday present. They agreed and were excited to shell out the funds as it was so rare that Cassidy wanted anything in particular at all. But alas, not more than a few minutes after the tickets went on sale, they were sold out. Their internet speed had been too slow or the servers had crashed or something had went wrong. \n\nCassidy became furious. She knew the band was popular, but not popular enough for a sold out show. Surely enough, she checked the resell ticket website and there were hordes of tickets all overpriced. Cassidy felt her body burning and her eyes began to water. It was the first time she experienced the feeling of life being unfair and unjust. And although what the resellers had done was clever the first 100 times, it began to get old. It seems rather unsettling that someone’s “full-time job” is purchasing tickets and selling them all while from in their underwear at home. And Cassidy couldn’t handle it. \n\nCassidy noted on the resell website that some of tickets were available to print out at home. This meant that she could print them out and use them as long as she got there before them. She began to search and scour discussion and comment sections on websites, looking for someone who was selling tickets. But she wasn’t going to purchase them. No, she was going to intercept them. It took her a shorter time than expected, but these folks like to brag. \n\nTBC\n"
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edit- realised I messed up lol
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[WP] It turns out all posts on nottheonion are true
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"James rushed into the room. Max looked at him.\n\"Max, I just discovered something crazy.\"\n\"...what?\"\n\"Every news site on the Internet has said that all of the posts on r/nottheonion are real!\"\n\nThere was a silence between James and Max.\n\n\"...James...\"\n\"Yeah?\"\n\"The posts on r/nottheonion were always real. Nobody ever thought that the posts on r/nottheonion were fake.\"\n\"...oh.\"\n\"That's why it's not the Onion. Because even though it sounds crazy, it's real.\"\n\"...so, it's not an elaborate conspiracy?\"\n\"Nope.\"\n\nJames sighed.\n\n\"Alright. I'm going home.\"\n\nJames left.\n\nMax thought about what James said.\n\n\"Heh, wouldn't it be funny if all the posts on r/theonion were real? I'm gonna make a writing prompt about that.\""
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[WP] Being depressed or depression
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"Yellow. Yellow sunlight filters in through the cracks in her fading blinds. It's a warm summer day and the people scurry to and fro in the mundane world outside, carrying on with their tasks like good little worker ants. She feels alone in this ceaseless current of everyday life. The wretched waves continue to weather her weary soul. \n\nOrange. The citrusy liquid runs over the brim of the glass. She's not paying attention. She pops the pill into her mouth and swallows it down. Perhaps today's visions won't be so bad. Off to work in order to continue to chip away at her resolve. The facade is crumbling. The carefully constructed imitation of life is coming down around her. \n\nRed. The crimson trail streaks down her ivory arms, turning the cold bath water into the Red Sea. She has given into that cold ocean. Its icy tendrils work their way into her slowing lungs. To drown in the darkness will be a sweet relief. \n\nBlack. The darkness envelops her. Holds her close to the bosom. She is adrift on the ebony ocean. \n\nWhite. The white walls that surround her are soft. She rocks back and forth as the lady in the white uniform injects a cold liquid into her veins. Once more her mind becomes a fog. Tomorrow they will prescribe something different to chase away the ravenous brute. They cannot sate the beast, but perhaps they can subdue it. "
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[WP] When the world's most prolific advocate for Satanism dies, all hell breaks loose in the Afterlife Assignment Bureau when it's discovered that he's never actually sinned in his life.
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"Micheal stood nervously as the Big Man let ones at the file. This was probably the fastest paperwork has ever travelled through a beaucracy. In His hand was the recorded life of the most prolific Satanist, but something was horribly off about it. God looked up from the file, \"What?\"\n\n\"Yes sir. It's correct.\"\n\n\"Are you telling me?\n\n\"Yes I am.\"\n\n\"That the most prolific Satanist, sworn enemy of the church. Has gone through life completely sinless.\"\n\n\"I am afraid so sir. What do we do about him?\"\n\n\"Honestly, I don't know. I didn't think one could even live without sin, but by Me, he did it. Let him into heaven I guess.\"\n\n\"Are you sure sir?\" \n\n\"Yeah. Let him in.\" God handed file back and Micheal shuffled out of the room. He pressed the button to his receptionist. \"Mary, bring me some scotch please.\"\n\n",
"Mason smiled to James when he burst through the door into Jasmine's office. \n\"We've got it!\", James exclaimed, rushing towards Jasmine. After a few moments whispering back and forth, and exchanging quick glances to Mason, the two finally popped up and began to list the options. \n\"I had no idea there were so many choices... and I really get to pick my own afterlife? Are you sure this is okay?\" Mason shifted nervously in his chair, hoping he wasn't causing too much trouble. \n\"It has been 100% approved and now all we need is you, and your choice.\" Jasmine explained with a grin so large the Cheshire Cat himself would be put to shame. \n\"I suppose option 6 seemed the best. Is there anything I need to do? Some forms I may need to sign for legal purposes?\" Mason began to anticipate is his personal afterlife would live up to his expectations. \nJasmine escorted Mason down several hallways and corridors, until finally they reached a rather ordinary looking door.\n\"Here's your afterlife, Mason. I think it will suit you, a man of no sin\". She opened the door and ushered him inside, closing the door behind him. \nDazed for a moment at the sudden change in atmosphere, he began to survey his surroundings. Everything was exactly how he'd imagined it. A perfect little log cabin on a hill dimly lit through the trees. He trudged through the brush until he reached the cabin. He hesitated for a moment, hand hovering over the very well polished brass doorknob. \nMason looked over his shoulder, looking at the welcoming exit door through the trees, thinking back to what Jasmine said just before leaving her office. \n\"As soon as you enter into the log cabin, that's it's. You can't change your mind then. Are you sure this is the afterlife you want for all eternity?\" Jasmine raised an eyebrow at the man before her. \n\"I couldn't think of any other way to spend eternity\" Mason smiled. \nLooking only ahead now, he turned the rather heavy knob and walked inside. ",
"\"He's WHAT?\" Cried the director of the Afterlife Assignment Bureau, or AAB.\n\n\"Well, ma'am, he never sinned once in his life. He was the most sinless person we've ever had through here.\" Explained the intern, James.\n\nThe director sighed and covered her face with her hands.\n\n\"This is going to be a nightmare...\" She groaned.\n\nOutside the office, workers ran around, frantically pulling out all of their records that they had on the newcomer. They combed through every fine detail, trying to find SOMETHING to besmirch his sinless record.\n\n\"I can call over a few angels to help us sort this out, if you would like.\" James offered.\n\nThe director ahook her head.\n\n\"No, I have a feeling they would damn him, or run into the same problem we're currently having.\" She stated.\n\nJames looked down at the ground, having nothing else to add to the conversation. \n\n\"What to do...\" The director pondered.\n\n\"I do have an idea!\" James perked up.\n\nThe director looked at him. \"And that is...?\"\n\n\"We let him decide.\" James stated.\n\nThe director blankly stared at him.\n\n\"You know, I think he deserves to choose, so he can't blame anyone but himself for his choice. Saves us all the work.\" James continued.\n\nThe director nodded.\n\n\"That... is actually the best thing I've ever heard suggested to me.\" She stated.\n\n\"Get on that, then.\" The director ordered.\n\nJames nodded and turned towards the door.\n\n\n\n\n",
"He seemed really embarrassed by his situation, which really didn't make things easier for Jasmine. She was used to belligerence, had expected intolerance, was prepared for confrontation. \n\nWhat Jasmine got instead was good manners, humility, and really, really charming eyes. \n\n\"Mason, look, try to understand. The Department's reserved this particular afterlife for you for *years*.\"\n\nJasmine knew her colleagues from the Afterlife Assignment Bureau were already waiting in the pantry, ready to pop the champagne. It wasn't everyday that they got to bequeath the very worst afterlife they had dreamed up to someone completely deserving of it. \n\n\"We've held in-house competitions to refine the Worst Afterlife Possible,\" Jasmine continued, feeling a headache develop, \"and we've turned down petitions to use the WAP on some of the meanest, baddest sons-of-bitches who have walked the earth. All because we knew you were coming, and we wanted something special, befitting, for you.\"\n\n\"I understand,\" said Mason, apologetically grinning, \"and I'm trying to cooperate, really.\"\n\n\"So can you please explain again, how in hell are you the Number One Satanist on Earth, yet your rap sheet here clearly shows that the worst thing you've done, the vilest sin, was not to own up to the tree trunk you pooped in '98? I'll read it back to you - 'Subject clogged the loo at work on 9 July 1998, which led to the Health Department investigating after backflow issues arose. Subject did not own up despite being asked directly.'\"\n\nJasmine's fingers tapped irritably on the tabletop. \n\n\"I wasn't eating well? I mean, I didn't know fibre was that importa-\"\n\n\"That's not the point!\" Jasmine snapped, the pencil breaking between her fingers. \"How could you be the most prolific advocate for Satanism we've ever seen, and yet not have committed any sin more insidious than small-scale biological terrorism? With no known death count?\"\n\nMason shifted uncomfortably in his seat, picking at his collar. \"I got into it cause of my ex, you see. Nothing too extreme, just wanted to check out what this new cult was about. So we joined the local chapter, then after a while they told me I had leadership qualities, so then they promoted me to district leader.\"\n\n\"And what did you do, as district leader?\"\n\n\"Recruit more converts? Increase collections? I did better than most, but I owe that to me mum, she always told me that people follow you instinctively if you're sincere and you genuinely care for their welfare.\"\n\nHe's fillial too, thought Jasmine. Super. \n\n\"Before I knew it, the top echelons reached out to me, saying they've never seen such strong potential in one so young. So they promoted me, then again, and again, until I was High Chancellor for the whole of the Western Half. A year later, my counterpart in the Eastern Half ceded control to me, saying he was getting too old for this, plus I had already been effectively helping him run things for a while now. \"\n\n\"And *that's* how you became the Unholy Priest, the one true leader of Satanists across the world, the one to herald the return of the Dark Lord?\" \n\n\"Well, as me mum always said, work hard and people will rewar-\"\n\nJasmine's fist came down hard on the table, cutting him off. She was starting to perspire, as the panic spread through her. This was no longer funny. Her boss was going to have her head. \n\n\"What about the doctrines! The Unholy Texts which prescribe all that a good Satanist is to do? You were responsible for enforcing those scripts too! How did no sin come out of that?\"\n\n\"Oh, those,\" said Mason, meekly chuckling. \"I never read those. Too long, too wordy. The originals smelled weird too. I just, you know, figured that they would ask us to do the same things which me mum would always ask me to do? Me mum's one of the best around, she can't be wrong. So I just, you know, told people I had interpreted the texts differently, and they kinda listened, I think?\"\n\n---\n\n/r/rarelyfunny "
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[WP] How many bones a person has directly correlates with how smart they are.
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"As I left my house I saw abunch of blobs rolling around. So I put in boots and went to work. When I got out I was rear ended by a lady with no bones in her legs and arms. Still though she found a way to drive, til hitting me anyway. That was probably the smartest thing she's ever done"
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[WP] A thousand years in the future mankind has reached the stars, but in doing so we came to realize one of our greatest fears: We are the only intelligent civilization in the universe.
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"At long last the dream of faster-than-light travel was solved and we took to the skies like so many shooting stars flying against the black of night. Life was first discovered off of Earth a scant twenty-seven light years from Earth. The life had reached a level of complexity where oxygen giving plants were converting the atmosphere into one similar to our own. We knew it would only be a matter of time before we discovered friends or enemies or something on par with or greater than ourselves that our minds could not yet comprehend.\n\nLife is plentiful, we discovered, settling world after world rich with life. Humanity doubled its efforts at exploration and in the first hundred years of interstellar flight we had cataloged every star in our galaxy. Granted, most of this was done by unmanned probe, but with the AI's running the ships we really didn't need a human going there personally. There were approximately ten million planets with life in our galaxy but only one with intelligent life, our own. \n\nPhase II of our explorations was the nearby galaxies. Refinements to our faster-than-light drives made reaching them happen in a matter of minutes. Trillions of AI driven intergalactic probes were exploring the forty nearest galaxies. We were exploring a new galaxy every month, sending incredible amounts of data back to Earth. Again, the nearest forty galaxies were rife with life, but none intelligent. We sat back as the fear started to settle across our species. The fear that we were indeed alone.\n\nPhase III used up most of the resources our new technologies had produced. A quintillion probes set out across the seas of the entire universe. Within a hundred years the rest of everything had been explored and we had our answer. We were indeed alone. There was no intelligent life in the galaxy. We were gods among the stars with no other gods to talk to.\n\n***We knew loneliness.***\n\nWe withdrew our multitudes of probes back to our home galaxy and conspired. All colonization has been halted. One hundred thousand colony worlds will have to do. All the resources of these colonies have turned to one effort: producing Sentience Seeder ships. The first ship left from Earth yesterday. They will go to the first life producing systems outside of our colonial zones and will find the animal on these planets they decide will have the greatest chance of producing sentience. They will then genetically modify that species to where it will produce sentient species within the next thousand years. We plan to do this on every life giving planet in the universe.\n\nOnce upon a time there was just once species with the ability to shape its future. In a thousand years there will be a number as countless as the stars. We have given the greatest gift we can to the universe - the ability to perceive itself through a myriad of different minds. When they are ready, we will introduce ourselves and unlike us, they will not know loneliness. \n\n",
"\"Eureka!\"\n\n\"Now what?\"\n\nAfter the first dog testicle was turned into guarana powder, the editor of the science journal decided it was time to stop. He went to his litte-furnished room, which for the patterns of your time would be impossibly clean, impecabbly organized and surrealisticly beautiful. Yes, beauty was standardized, and it wasn't very hard: if you disagree, you are put in a hospital. Some people pretend to dislike something just to spend a weekend in the hospital, sometimes called The Spa. \n\n You must be curious to know if people are beautiful and standardized too. Well, it depends on the point of view. For your time, they are ugly and take little care of themselves. But the amount of vital energy they carry, the happiness in their faces, the bubbly personalities, would make you eat your words. We take very good care of ourselves, but phyisically is just the needed. We are here because we haven't learned enough yet to join. I'm learning to teach, and you will be in my place someday. But for now, read the rest of this story.\n\nThe editor went to his, surreal from your point of view, room. I've been in rooms like that, let me just say they work. Everything works. A mind is divided in before and after visiting a City. If you had to stay in this town your whole life, it would be the same miserable life of your ancestors. We don't want that do we? Well, anyway, the editor went to his room to talk to the rat. Yes, his watcher rat. Did you think it was an urban legend? How cute is that? The watcher-rat is always there to listen and transmit the true feelings of anybody. This editor had a new kind of feeling never sensed by a rat before. The next day, a letter arrived:\n\n\"Your desire was deemed pure and feasible. Drink from this flask if you want to forget the wish. It will happen anyway. - The A.I.\"\n\nThe editor drank without a second though, as in custom. A surprise is always more pleasurable than a planned happening. Immediately the TV turned on (as always happens when the I.A. knows you will want to see something). It was an alien invasion. People being killed on the streets. With the card still in hands, the editor knew he made a desire, but was not sure if that was related. \"Who would desire that, and would the A.I. accept it? Could this be a real invasion that our defenses were actually incapable of defending? In that case, why would the I.A. want me to see this?\"\n\nWaiting for some emergency alert he waited, but none was in sight. He turned on videoconferences with neighbors and loved ones and everyone seemes fine with it, even with the knowledge of an alien invasion.\n\nHe was finally getting excited, this was new. The energized editor RAN to his pickup truck to get supplements to his bunker: his friends will need it since he's the only one to care about saving anyone. On the market, everything was business as usual, \"poor fools\" thought the editor.\n\nGetting back home, someone was there before. It was obvious. Footsteps on the snow,windows open, the door was unlocked. Was it too late? Did the aliens attack him first since they knew he was getting prepared? Direct to the bunker them, but there, a message outside, handwriting of his best friend and *crush*: \"We are inside your house, come help us.\"\n\nIs this a trap from the aliens? Will I just die alone in a bunker? If there's a chance of helping Deborah, I will have to take it. My life is not that important alone, I need love and sharing. Fuck my life, fuck everything, I'm going where people may be\n\nInside the house, silence and darkness. But only for a few seconds: \"Surprise!\" about 30 people that the editor cherished very much were there. They had a magical night sharing their favourit songs, works of art, foods and dreams.\n\nThis is life with a benevolent A.I. Magic happens. Everything may have a reason.\nAnd just so you know, the aliens were cinematographic, made just for his dream to happen. The scenes were ued for a lot of dreams worldwide at that very same time. Kinda like the movies of your day. Now for our Lesson One: What do you think is going to happen between Rey and Luke Skywalker?",
"I think of the life so long ago. It seems like a story now. I remember things that should not exist. I remember faces and a home and heat and love. I remember things that must have happened to some other man. Things that were once real but now have disappeared into fading memory. I remember things and sometimes I wish I didn't.\n\n\nThe stars shine coldly here in the dark. Everything is cold here and everything is empty and black. The far off glimmer of our Sun is like diamond in the light, a superficial sparkle. The feel of the suit gets to me and my breathing drives me mad.\n\n\nAhead the large planet looms. It has been so long that I forget its entire name. I forget many things each day. I call it Apathy, for that is how the planet looks at me. It looks at me with uncaring eyes and thin clouds. It's hard to imagine a planet looking at you. Harder to imagine it having eyes. But it looks at me with the same coldness that is all around.\n\n\nI look at the comm system. Disuse has aged it. It looks broken and antique. Perhaps it is antique. Who knows how much time has passed? Who knows what technologies they have back...\n\n\n*Home.*\n\n\nAnother thought from another life. That dull ache in my heart brings me down. I breathe harder and it irritates me further. I see dust, light brown and with minute feelers like asterisks, float in front of the windows. They dance that lifeless relief that I long for. My eyes tear up and I look away.\n\n\nLong ago we had made great breakthroughs. We had done the impossible. We had mastered space flight. We had conquered distance. And we had clamored for the privilege to be the first explorers.\n\n\nThat was so long ago. That was when voices were something you could hear outside your head. That was when the sun gave heat and not just an anemic wave, the last remnants of a long dead life.\n\n\nNow, I feel the full brunt of our folly. I experience the parts of the equations we had not considered. I face the parts that I had not considered, the parts disregarded in a childlike belief that yes, there had to be someone else. There had to be another one like us. I feel the pain of my gamble.\n\n\nA few months or years or decades ago I received the last transmission before I was forever out of range. They said they wanted to be absolutely sure of what they were telling me and so they waited until the last possible time. I think they just wanted to avoid hearing my agony, my pleas and cries. I can't blame them.\n\n\nThey told me that they were sure that the planet, Apathy now, was uninhabited. They were sure that all the planets were uninhabited. All the planets in the universe were desolate and alone. There was no one. There would be no one to help me come back. There would be no hope.\n\n\nI'm sure I fell and thrashed about in an uncontrollable depression then. I'm sure I made a fool of myself. The comm went off and I was alone without so much as a proper goodbye. I had shut it off in my stupor. I regret that.\n\n\nI regret many things. I regret agreeing to this. The emptiness of space drift pass and I know there is no one to share it with. I think of the beauty, the great colors and workings of this unknown. Then I think that no one besides my people think the same. Space loses its beauty once you know that it is truly empty. It loses that childlike wonder that had cloaked its true depressing reality. \n\n\nI look out now and wonder what I think. One day I will die and that will be empty too. Would anyone mourn me? They would never know. Do they mourn me now? I will never know. I look out and remember things I wish to forget. I remember a life of another man. The life of a man who truly lived. How I wish I was that man. How I wish I could be him, even for a second. But I look into that vast emptiness and remember that that man is long dead. And so I mourn his death."
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[WP] You are a professional Monster Hunter, currently dating Dracula's Daughter
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"We drink in silence. Every now and then she casts a glance at me. Whenever I meet her eyes, she looks away like when we first met. \n\nI smile.\n\nMy foot finds her foot under the table. She jumps in her seat, then looks at me. I smile. She smiles back shyly. I can see that her new fangs are already growing in. \n\nFinally, I finish my drink and my newspaper. I glance at my watch. Class starts in half an hour.\n\n\"So,\" I say, cheery. \"See you after class, right?\"\n\nShe nods, eyes down still, still silent.\n\n\"Oh, and remember...\" I reach into my pocket and pull out two little fangs still covered in blood and lay them gently on the table. \"If I ever catch you talking to another guy again, I'll kill you and then Ill go after your father. You know I will.\"\n\nAfter a long moment, she nods.\n\n\"Good.\" I settle back and smile, then stand and go to give her a kiss on the cheek. She shivers. Probably cold. Someone must've left a window open. \"Love you.\"\n\nThe darling is so overwhelmed with passion, she trembles when she speaks:\n\n\"L-love y-you t-too...\"",
"\"Uhhh.... Mister... do you want me to call you a cab or sumthin?\"\n\nA croaky middle-aged voice awoke Jude, disturbing the beautiful silence which he had just begun to appreciate. He realized that this was the first time all day when he could actually hear himself think. Jude cleared his throat but what came out was a muffled version of \n\n\"No thanks, I'll just walk it, it looks like a nice day\".\n\n\"Come again?\"\n\nHe quickly realized the problem and with great effort, Jude lifted his face out of his arms, he was slumped over the bar at Harvey's.\n\nAgain.\n\nOr was it Harker's? It didn't matter, it was the 3rd time this month his girlfriend's zany dad had sent him here to spy on the owner, or as he liked to put it \"precautionary reconnaissance\". \n\n\"Im good on that cab, thanks\" Jude replied despondently as he remembered he had left the bartender without an answer.\n\nJude gazed into the contents of the skull-shaped crystal glass just in front of him. The glass was half full of glistening, golden brown whisky. The liquor shimmered as he brought it in closer to gulp it down. He needed to get some sleep, in this hypnagogic state he could make out something resembling Nina's face in the glass. It was undoubtedly some form of pareidolia. He finished the cup and waved the bartender goodbye. \n\nNina's family was so confusing, especially her father, if he'd had a problem with the owner why didn't he just talk it over with the guy, if he was half as civil as the burly barkeep he'd employed it would be fine. \n\nJude was no stranger to day-drinking, he'd just like to do it in the comfort of his own home, in the company of less burlap sack-shaped women. Jude rarely ever got off his ass on his day off, it was just something about Nina, he couldn't quite put his finger on. Her requests were so odd, yet her voice .... so soothing, mellifluous, almost hypnotic. \n\nJude, stumbled out of the bar and fell flat on his face, the pain numbed by the somniferous effects of the alcohol. He hadn't seen that Harper guy. He was getting sick of looking down at the picture on his phone and comparing it to the blurry faces which inhabited the bar. Apparently the owner in question was a big shot lawyer, nightclub tycoon. His wife had visited Nina's dad's practice for a checkup and she stormed out, claiming he had come on to her, nibbled her neck and now her husband, this Harker guy was pressing charges. Jude thought to himself, 'how absurd, if it was money she was after why didn't she make-up a more plausible story'. Nina's dad was the epitome of the immigrant success story, he was the nicest guy ever, quiet, polite and he was so dedicated to his field, catering to patients who were too busy during the day and could only make evening appointments.\n\nHe had even helped out Jude on a case offering him a vital perspective on this sick, twisted cannibal which eventually led to his apprehension. Jude had only been bounty hunting a few months. He'd had a hard time finding targets at first, but ever since Nina had come into his life it was as if the degenerate tap had been turned on and he'd been able to make a decent career for himself.\n\nThings had been looking up for Jude as of late, that was until Nina and her dad had been arguing non-stop all weekend. They were bickering about wanting to make him a tasty dinner. Jude had left just when the conversation was shifting towards his blood type and medical history. Sure her dad was a bit invasive but Jude just put it down to cultural differences.\n\n*Buzzz*\n\nJude reached inside his pocket to retrieve his phone, he had to squint to see the message in the daylight. It read\n\n\n-- *JUDE, YOU REMEMBER HOW I TOLD YOU MY DAD WAS A REAL VAMPIRE, YEAH DON'T COME OVER TONIGHT UNLESS YOU WANT THE LIFE SUCKED OUT OF YOU* --\n\nJude chortled, Nina's Dad was boring for sure, but there was no reason to dent his self-esteem even further. The man hardly ever went out, Jude doubted if he had any real friends. I bet all he wants is someone to share his old stories of Romania with, Jude thought .\n\nHe decided that now was the time to be a supportive boyfriend, he was going to arrive and save the day, he would appease the father by buying him a traditional Romanian meal. He knew a place around the corner from his apartment.\n\nThere was one piece of the puzzle missing, Nina's dad's name, he couldn't remember it for the life of him. He contemplated for a moment and thought they were definitely past the \"sir\" stage and were now on a first name basis. \n\nHe scrolled through his contacts with his thumb, looking to see if any of the names rang a bell. Then WHAM it hit him, directly under V.\n\nIt was Vlad.\n",
"\"So...you're a vampire. And I'm a vampire hunter.\" \n\nShe sat primly on a boulder across him. The slope beyond led far down towards the dark castle and even from here he could hear the wretched howls of the werebeasts roaming the bone white forests below. \n\n\"I believe you've stated the obvious.\" she said. \n\nHe looked at her, observing her pale skin, wild, dark hair and very red eyes. Her pupils were shattering into the whites of her eyes as the moon loomed closer in the night. \n\n\"Why are we having this conversation again?\" \n\nShe smiled at him, her teeth a row of sharp triangles. \"Because, Ludlow, I enjoy your company in bed and I don't want you to die for no reason.\" \n\n\"I'm not going to my death.\" he tried to say, \"I'm an experienced hunter, I'll have you know. This is just me going out to meet your old man and helping him meet his grave.\" he paused, \"Unless...you're not sentimenal about him, are you?\" \n\nShe snorted, \"Pull the other one. My concern here is that despite your experience, you're so far beneath his level that he hasn't bothered to open a way up to the castle for you.\" \n\n\"Ouch. That hurts my feelings right here.\" he said dryly, \"Don't you think that if he's underestimating me I'll have a higher chance of vanquishing him?\" \n\nShe shrugged her shoulders. Her wings billowed behind her like a cape, deep purple and wreathed in shadows. \n\n\"You can't vanquish him. You're a mere human.\" \n\n\"I have to try at least.\" he said, \"If I don't, who will?\" \n\n\"Is it so bad to be ruled over by a vampire?\" she tilted her head. \n\n\"It is when said vampire doesn't believe in investing in anything that hasn't existed since his time. Humans deserve to be able to move forward.\" he said. \n\n\"So I can't dissuade you then?\" she sighed, folding her hands. \n\n\"You could probably hypnotize me away or something.\" he shrugged, \"I would still return the next night, or the night after that and so on. Anything to move forward.\" \n\nShe looked at him for a long moment, silhouetted against the moon. With a leap, she swept off the boulder, transforming into a lithe, black wolf. He heard her voice in his mind. \n\n*\"Very well then. It seems I have no choice but to follow you, if only to grant you a merciful death should you reach my father.\"* \n\nHe smiled at her, getting to his feet. He walked past her onto an almost invisible, overgrown path down to the woods of the castle, running his hand between her ears as he went.\n\nShe chuffed and grazed his fingers lightly.\n\n\"Tonight is a good night to hunt...\" "
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[WP] "You know, for a new employee orientation at a software company, this presentation sure talks a lot about surviving bear attacks."
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"The speaker chuckled at my remark.\n\n\"Don't worry about it too much, it's just standard procedure for us to inform our employees of any possible danger.\" He explained sincerely. \n\nDanger? What the hell was I signing up for? We just make software...\n\nTwo weeks later, our first assignment was to go out into the woods for a 'teambuilding exercise.'\n\n\nThere were a ton of bears.\n\nThank god for the bear defense training.\n\n\n"
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In an world where people still fight with ancient melee weapons but can summon beings of pure light, darkness, water, fire and earth. Upon beginning the ritual that will show you which element you can control, you instead summon an entire division of undead WW1 soldiers from all sides of the war. The ones that can still talk, refer to you as general, and tell you stories of a world that ended in fire and blood.
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[WP] In a world where people still fight with ancient melee weapons, but can summon beings of light, darkness, water, fire and earth. You perform a ritual to see which element you can control.Instead of elemental beings, you summon an entire division of undead WW1 soldiers from all sides of the war.
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"When I was 6 I summoned Adolf Hitler, he was about to shoot himself but then he realised where he was. Now, 14 years later the fourth reich is going well, the state of knowledge was deemed medieval by Adolf, but 14 years later and a lot of nazi scientists/engineers summoned. The enitre country is being modernized, culture is booming, shows and plays and radioes are a hit. Train rails are being placed down everyday connecting us to the great capital Berlin. At the beginning it was tough, we had to rally the people to work for us which wasn't easy. But after reviving entire panzer divisions we murdered all lords and kings. Reinstating them with city workers who control city development. All in all people abandoned the ways of old and I became the emperor. They all put down their swords in defeat knowing that I can't be defeated. We are now going to teleport me to WW2 Berlin so I get to be shot and can revive myself. Eternal life in this empire doesn't sound so bad. Especially considering we can only go forward, united at last."
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[WP] "Do not mistake honor for kindness."
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"The young woman ran out of the darkness and into the temple. Her blackened feet made loud, dirty marks on the white marble floors. When she reached the center of the temple she fell over. But before she hit the ground, she was caught by one of the white robes of Peace.\n\n\"Rest daughter, you are safe now,\" said the priest. His quiet voice lulled the young woman to sleep. Her breathing softened and slowed as the priest laid her on a cot in one of the upper rooms.\n\nShe woke with sunlight in her eyes, making them difficult to open, but when she did, she saw a room with a crystal window looking down at all of Sanford. The Hebe river ran through the city like a monstrous snake. She stared down and traced it, before shuddering and turning away. The rest of her room was occupied with other straw mattresses. The floor and walls were made of white stone. As if drawn by her rustling, the priest from last night was standing in the doorway.\n\n\"You may stay here as long as you wish. Although I have neither food nor water to offer you,\" he calmly stated. Then he went on his way. She noticed that he was carrying a bucket and a mop. \n\nShe hopped off the bed and exited her room. Right outside the door was a railing, past which was the central area of the temple. There were rows of white stone benches on the white marble floor in case people wanted to hear a priest talk. She saw stairs to the first floor near the entrance to the temple. In most buildings stairs would be placed at a defensible points, but this was a Temple of Ernasti. No violence could come to be in this sacred place. As such, there was no need to build for defense, even though this was a permanent structure.\n\n\"I haven't had a visitor for a while.\" The priest's voice broke her train of thought. \"If you don't mind me asking, what is your name, daughter?\" The priest was as young as she was, maybe thirty cycles at most. She smiled though.\n\n\"Andra.\" Her clothes were dirty and almost falling off. Her skin was blackened by soot. She was not very presentable in a house of one of the Gods. Nevertheless, the two took a seat on the stairs.\n\n\"Andra. It is a good name. What has led you to take refuge in this house?\" She visibly tensed when he asked her this, but he just held a smile with closed eyes.\n\n\"I'm running. Nobody is trying to hurt me, but Ernasti is the God of Peace, right? I thought maybe he could give me some peace in my heart.\" She smiled, a bittersweet smile, with the weight of the world in it.\n\nThe priest chuckled in return. \"His magic merely prevents violence in his temples. Your mind and soul are unfortunately not protected here.\"\n\nAt this, the temple doors swung open. A man dressed in the same white robes as Ernasti's priests walked in. His were splattered with a dark brown color. As he walked in he turned to the current priest. \n\n\"Welcome, brother. I hope that-\" The priest's words were suddenly cut off as newcomer put his fist through the priest's chest. The bits of blood and bone splattered over the pristine white stairs, the wall, and over Andra. The man walked towards the center of the temple. Then he jumped up to the second floor and hung the dead priest on the railing by his robe.\n\nHe jumped down, and walked back towards the exit.\n\n\"Please, don't hurt me!\" Andra begged.\n\n\"I won't hurt you,\" the man said. \"There's no honor to be had in killing the weak.\"",
"Civil Wars, weren't. \n\nNathaniel Deshler knew everything in the faces he saw. Their eyes were sunken and hollow like grave men's. Their hair- if it was not hacked short by a bayonet or sheep shear -was tangled and filthy. The men bore thick beards, the youths pimply with sweat and stress. There was a feral air about them, as if all the centuries of civilization had been stripped away to the barest bones through hardship and hungry and a desperate struggle to survive. \n\n\"I'm looking for your commander,\" he said. \"Lady Devon.\"\n\n\"I'm her,\" a voice said from the back of the crowd. The sea of unwashed bodies parted to reveal a woman in her late thirties, the first few strands of grey creeping into her tied back hair. Her clothes, though of better make than those around her, was in similar disrepair. She had a submachine gun slung over her shoulder and a beret tucked underneath the right shoulder strap of her jacket. There were dark bags under her eyes which, Deshler noted, were the same color as glacial water.\n\n\"Lady Devon. I am Captain Deshler, commander of Clifton's Rangers. We have arrived.\"\n\nSomeone coughed as the noblewoman stared at the Andurien-born mercenary. She said nothing as she took in his clean clothes, his modest collection of ribbons and the slim laser pistol holstered at his waist. \n\n\"You're late.\"\n\nDeshler shrugged. \"We had dodge system defenses on the way in. You didn't mention anything about your opposition having Aerospace support.\"\n\nIt was Lady Devon's turn to shrug. \"Baron Barstow recently hired a squadron of mercenary pilots. They arrived just two weeks ago and are already been making things tenuous for us. They have two *Lucifier's* on standby at all times with the other four ready in less than an hour. Twice we've been forced to abandon otherwise successful raids once they scrambled their fighters.\"\n\n\"You hired the Rangers, Lady Devon, to help end your world's internal conflict. A lance of Jihad-era BattleMechs and a mixed regiment of armor and infantry, that was the enemy. We're not an Anti-Air unit.\"\n\nThe noblewoman pursed her lips, thinking. \n\n\"We're willing to offer twenty percent bonus i-\"\n\n\"Fifty.\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\" she asked.\n\n\"I want a fifty percent bonus upon completion of this contract. In addition, I want salvage rights to all 'Mechs Barstow has.\"\n\n\"That was not part of the original agreement,\" Devon stated.\n\n\"A squadron of Aerospace Fighters wasn't either,\" noted Deshler. \"If you don't agree to the new terms, I'll go to the mercenary commander and make it plain that he is in no way, shape or form part of my mission. He'll be free to follow his contract so long as he does not attack my Rangers. I'm guessing he's already thinking of stating the same to Baron Barstow. I'm here, Lady Devon, because you're offering hard currency. I will honor our contract, but no further.\"\n\n\"Damn you, Mercenary,\" she finally spat. \"You'll have your fifty percent, and your 'Mechs. Damn you and your greed.\"\n\n\"My thanks, my lady. But remember one thing: it was you who contacted us. You could've left this world in the hands of a usurper and in doing so save it years of war. Damn you and your stubbornness.\" "
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[WP] You are an ordinary human being that has finally discovered the potion for immortality, keeping it secret you instantly consume the potion only to realize that you have been granted immortality and not eternal youth...
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"The oppressive silence of the dark, tomb-like chamber was broken by the whirring sound of ancient power relays activating. Dust cascaded through the air as mechanisms, long unused, finally began to move as if enacting a long forgotten choreography. The panels of the floor slid away as a sleek, silver capsule reminiscent of a coffin emerged from a hidden compartment, lights and displays flickering into life along its side. With a hiss of decompression, the capsule opened, disgorging a torrent of refrigerating vapour that lift a light frost over the area immediately surrounding it. From within, there came a whispering, bone-dry rattle.\n\nThe Being within slowly regained consciousness, if this accursed state of perpetual existence could be called that. The organs responsible for perceiving the world around it, or indeed for processing such information had it been able to sense at all, had long since rotted away. All that remained were the ancient, skeletal remains of one who had made the greatest mistake any sentient being could make, and was now paying the ultimate price for. Unable to move, unable to see, hear or feel, the Being could only wait as the pre-programmed automations set to work. From the black ceiling above mechanical tendrils, limbs and cranes descended. Some carried separate pieces of machinery, while those without reached down to gently lift the Being out of its cryogenic sarcophagus, careful not to dislocate bones that had long lost any of their connecting tissue. Slowly, precisely, the mechanisms were attached to the skeletal form.\n\nWithin minutes, his limbs were encased in gleaming, silver metal, mechanical servos substituting the absent muscle and surpassing their past strength many times over. Wiring and electronic relays lined the metal skull placed over his own, providing him with a synthetic view of the world to replace the absence of his natural senses, but still leaving him isolated from the world inside this new metal coffin. Finally, with his armoured form assembled, the being was lowered to the floor, where he stood upright for the first time in centuries, before striding swiftly from the chamber.\n\nOnly one thing could have triggered his awakening; his sanctum had been discovered and invaded. Navigating the ancient corridors as though he had walked them only yesterday, he made his way to his command chamber, and the great throne that awaited there. In truth it was merely the seat of the interface that allowed him control over the sanctum's systems, but when he had sat there in times past above all others it had served the role of throne in equal measure. Taking his place upon it, he allowed himself to be wired into the seat's mechanisms, and linked himself to the ancient computers of the building. Accessing the security systems, he saw a small band of humans, bearing armour and weapons much more advanced than they had the last time he had seen their kind, were making their way into the inner depths of the sanctum. Outside, the automated defense batteries lay in ruins, surrounded by the dead and dieing adventurers they had slain before they were overrun.\n\nWere it possible, a smile would have been seen growing on the Being's face. All was going according to his plan. With a thought, he activated the sanctum's second layer of defenses. Throughout the monolithic structure, alcoves opened from within the walls, and with sinister whirring, hundreds of skeletal, mechanical automatons, began to march in defence of their master. Outside; long dormant nanomachines scurried across the barren ground, seeking out the freshly dead human corpses. Flowing into them, they interlaced with the skeletons of the bodies, hauling them upright and marching them after their former comrades with all the grace of inexperienced puppeteers. The invaders would soon find themselves beset by a tide of the dead and those that had never truly lived. If all went according to plan; only the strongest would survive to face him.\n\nInternally, the Being grimaced as the memory of his terrible mistake hit him. Were it within his power he would throttle his younger, foolish self before he had a chance to imbibe the accursed potion of immortality. Within mere decades he had realised his mistake and, horrified by what would inevitably become of him, had tried everything to end his life, to avoid that fate, but to no avail. In the end; he had decided upon this plan; if he could not end his own life, he would wait until one who could would find him. And so he had constructed his monolithic tomb, erecting such defenses that only the mightiest would be able to make their way to him in the hopes that those mighty heroes might posses the means to finally put an end to his suffering. So he had waited for centuries, for millennia, at a time, for bands of heroes to overcome the trials before them to reach his inner sanctum. So far all had failed, overcome by the challenge. As the sounds of battle began to echo through the halls of his sanctum, he dared to hope that perhaps, this time, he would meet his end."
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[WP] A French-speaking person is traumatized by the events of a rather unfortunate Tuesday they nickname "Mardi Merde".
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"I cursed. This wasnt how it was supposed to go. And now we've got this crazy french fucking tourist blabbering shit all over the country.\n\nMardi Merde was supposed to be a day of celebration. A day for the country to express themselves. Instead its turned into a fucking HR nightmare.\n\nThe rules were simple. The public could submit in detailed writing what they most wanted to do in life. If it was appropriate, they would be allowed to break the law. Ie a couple of people wanted to base jump off the sydney harbour bridge. Something that normally would be highly illegal, but their application was approved and come Mardi Merde they did that without drama.\n\nEvery application was supposed to be properly fucking vetted. But some clown stamped and approved something that should never have been allowed.\n\nSo thats how this French ended up having someone stick a frozen hotdog up his anus. If that wasnt traumatizing enough, we then had to be told the offender couldnt be prosecuted because of immunity granted under the Mardi Merde Act 2017."
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[WP] You made a deal with the devil to help accomplish your dreams only catch is you only have one year left on earth. What do you accomplish in that one year?
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"The devil smiled upon me. He was ecstatic that I had taken his deal. I only had a year left anyway right. Cancer. It was going to be the death of me, but at least now I could accomplish whatever i wanted.\n\nI was always a peculiar man. I think you know you're odd when you KNOW you're odd. If you know what i mean.\n\nThere was one thing i wanted. I couldnt quite explain why. I guess part me thought it had probably never been done before. And if indeed it had been done before, i would surely be the last to ever do it.\n\nSo thats what got me to this point. I dropped to my knees, heart pumping harder than it ever had. Here I was, in Buckingham palace, on my knees, awaiting the one thing that i would be remembered forever for. The famous people that had received their knighthood in this room made me swell with pride.\n\nI leant forward and spread the queens cheeks, quivering with exciting i pushed my face between them and toungue punched her fart box.\n\nI made a deal with the devil and got to rim the queen x"
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[WP] As people's attention spans continue to shrink, a new sense called "blur" emerges. Those with the most severe cases of ADHD are the first to become proficient.
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"“So what the f***’s he doing?” I blurted out. “He’s just been sitting there for about ten minutes.” \n\nOfficer Benett leaned over next to me. “He's working, Dewey.”\n\nI stared over at Bennett. At any other time he wouldn't be able to keep a straight face after saying something like that. He’d crack a smile and start chuckling like an idiot and fess up that he was bullshitting me. Right now, though, he didn't seem to think he was bullshiting me. Me, I wasn't so sure.\n\nI snorted and pulled up a chair. “He can be as fancy as he wants, but we aren’t paying him by the hour to stare off into space.”\n\n“The chief seems to think that's how he works.”\n\nI cocked my head towards Benett. “She said that?”\n\n“Something like that, yeah.”\n\n“Huh.” I slouched back into my seat. “She tell you how or why or are we supposed to just grin and stick our thumbs up our asses?”\n\nHe took a big ol’ breath and sighed. Reminded me of my algebra teacher in high school, Mr. Buzak. He did the same thing whenever I had to explain where my homework for the weekend had gone. Hated it then, hated it now. “Well… yeah, pretty much. We’re just here to make sure he follows proper police procedure when he does his stuff.”\n\n“Stares at the wall, you mean.”\n\n“Look,” Benett started, “you were there when she explained this shit two days ago.”\n\n“Shit, really?”\n\n“... You forgot.”\n\n“No, I didn’t forget. I just didn’t think it was important to begin with.” He was even staring at me like Buzak now. “Hey, in the past it’s just been the standard ‘play nice’ spiel she’s given us. Can you really blame me that this one just had to be weird?”\n\n“Christ, Dewey.”\n\n“I mean, tell me, is this or is this not weird? Because it’s pretty fuckin’ weird.”\n\nBenett scowled. “It’s not that weird.”\n\n“You try explaining it then. Go on.”\n\n“Alright.” He whispered under his breath, biting his lip. “ Have you ever done one of those visual puzzles in the papers?”\n\n“The ones where you cross your eyes and shit?”\n\n“Yeah, those. You know how the point is to look at one spot and just kind of unfocus your eyes? And then, while you look, your vision goes a little cocked and you can see shapes in what just looked like a mess.”\n\n“You’ll see a star, a parrot, a chameleon, that sort of this?”\n\n“Yeah, it’s like that.”\n\nI looked back at the man standing in the center of the living room. I followed where his eyes were looking, but for the life of me it looked like a flat, featureless wall. “Yeah?”\n\n“Not completely like it. It has more to do with keeping everything important in your mind. Going it over and over again, one thing to another to another, until it’s all just a blur in your head.”\n\n“I think I’ve done that, once. Got worked up over a bill with my internet company. Just made me feel dizzy and sad is all, though.”\n\n“Well, for you or me it’s not helpful. Things congeal and become fuzzy and we don’t know what is what anymore. People like that, though, can pick out the important bits. They stare at something long enough and they can see what belongs and what doesn’t. It’s basically a sixth sense.”\n\n“Do you think that I could-” I said before I felt a finger tap my shoulder. The man was holding out a small sticky note. “What’s this?” I asked as I grabbed the slip of paper. It had a name and an address.\n\n“Go to this address, Officer Dewey.” he droned flatly, pointing at the note. “Ask for this name. He’s the man who broke in here. Have someone watch the back. Then see if she has any mint cookies. She makes a marvelous batch. It’s a good reason to rent her upstairs room when your lease is up. It’s more affordable than your current place anyway. Don’t judge her too much for housing the burglar. She just thought he was an affable locksmith from Ansbach.”\n\n“Wait, you know the person our perp is staying with?” Benett blurted out, eyes wide.\n\nThe man giggled for a tick before continuing on in monotone. “Oh, heavens, no. It’s just that the burglar never showers. He should know better, though. His mother always told him. May I go now?”\n\nMe an’ Benett shared a glance before he nodded to the man and letting him on his way. After the door had shut behind him, Benett turned back to the living room once more. It was as tidy and orderly as it had been three days ago when the wealthy owner had reported the priceless painting above the fireplace missing. Forensics had come up empty. It was all he could do to shake his head.\n\nI chimed in. “I told you it was fuckin’ weird.”\n",
"Ashes slipped off of Dayton’s cigarette with a wind that cut between the city skyscrapers. His eyes closed as he watched them disperse to the east in front of the vibrant, setting sun. \n\nDayton inhaled the smoke of his final drag slowly through his nose as he flicked the roach from his fingers.\n\nHis mind began to numb. The acoustics of life around him were snuffed. The moment fell silent, and his body no longer felt physically present.\n\nHis eyes opened and every sense came back as if turning a dial from minimum to maximum, skipping every decimal in between.\n\n*Blur.*\n\nDayton remembered the first time he experienced the sensation. Pocketing an empty box of Newports as his toes curled over the edge of the 32nd floor. He could see death when he had closed his eyes, and in that instance, he stopped fighting the tornado of thoughts that simultaneously pulled at his attention. Suddenly, the world had fallen into place.\n\nThe feeling was delicate. A sixth sense that heightened its five predecessors.\n\nThis micro-meditation triggered his blur, and although it was fleeting, Dayton knew how to savor his evolutionary advantage.\n\nHe spent no longer than a minute paralyzed on the sidewalk of the bustling city. No impulses, no urges. Only clarity in everything around him.\n\nHis mental capacity for detail was infinite.\n\nFor a moment, he was god.\n\nDayton only grew happier with every blur he experienced, hoping one day to achieve a life where his blur never fades.\n\nUntil then, he remembered he needed more cigarettes.\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] You've never before revealed yourself to humans. But now you need help.
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"The sound of the humans traipsing closer had spooked her attacker enough that he’d abandoned her. Zebinul attempts and fails to pull her wings back in. The dappled black wings would keep her hidden in the dark of the forest with night oncoming. The one is definitely broken though, blood dripping from the wounds all over her body. She can’t feel her leg, knowing that it’s about as broken as her wing. \n\nWhen she turns her head, she can see his eyes in the distance, glimmering in the underbrush. The sight sends a shudder through her. She turns her attention back to the humans coming closer. Her wings won’t fold and she can’t drag her leg closer. Zebinul takes slow breaths, unsure of her course of action. She glances at the eyes in the dark again. \n\nThey’re fixed on her, vanishing only when he blinks. \n\n“Help,” Zebinul calls weakly. Whether or not the reptilian creature came after her again, she would die without help. There is no healing fast enough from the injuries he’s given her. “H—Help.” The glimmering eyes widen, finally moving from her. \n\n“What was that?” A voice above her demands. The humans fall silent and Zebinul swallows thickly, shutting her eyes. Death or discovery. \n\n“H—Help,” Zebinul calls again. It would have to be discovery with the message she carries. It needed to get to the recipient. \n\n“Someone’s down there, I see their legs!” A loud noise comes from above, the sounds of feet stomping through leaves, crushing them underfoot coming down the hill from the pathway above. Zebinul opens her eyes, seeing those of the reptilian creature still watching her with a fury unparalleled in any creature she’s come across before. \n\nOne of the humans steps on her wing. With a screech, Zebinul yanks the damaged limb to herself, startling the group of humans. The five of them stare at her, two females and three males. Blood runs from the damaged wing, bone sticking out of the feathers. \n\n“Holy shit, it’s got wings.” One of the males states. There’s a pause before the darker-haired female shrugs out of a jacket, jaw set. \n\n“She. She has wings.” The woman edges closer, eyes roving over Zebinul’s body, still holding her jacket. “She’s been attacked by something, these are bite marks. Terrence, Oliver, go get the car.” \n\n“Gail, the car’s not going to fit on the—” One of the other males starts to protest. \n\n“It’ll fit on the path. If not, you get some of the camping supplies out of the back and you bring them back here so we can make a stretcher.” Gail responds, seeming to tap into something internally. “Sam, you’ve got your gun still, right?” \n\n“Hell yeah,” Sam responds, reaching a hand to where a gun is holstered at his waist. \n\n“You better draw it.” Gail’s eyes dart up to the area nearby. “I got the feeling whatever did this is still nearby.” \n\n“I—I should go back with Ter and Oli.” The other female finally speaks, a frightened expression on her face. \n\n“No, I need you here with me, Abby.” Gail looks to her. “You’ve got to help me with the wings and seeing how badly they’re broken.” Abby swallows hard, eyes traveling over the rather large wing that’s half in the air. \n\nZebinul watches the group tiredly. At least they weren’t attempting to kill her. \n\n“G—Gail are you—are you sure about this?” Abby questions. \n\n“Yeah. Now go get the car.” She spares Terrence and Oliver only a slight glance before fishing what looks like shoelaces out of her jacket pocket. \n\nThere’s only a slight pause before the two males turn and hurry back up the hill away. Zebinul opens her mouth to speak before Gail moves in close enough to touch her. The woman’s fingers gently run across her head, petting down the feathers that crown Zebinul’s head. After a moment, Zebinul gives a quiet, chirpy noise at the touch, laying her feathers down a bit more. \n\n“We’re going to help you,” Gail reassures her. “I’m a paramedic.” \n\nZebinul’s uncertain as to what that word means but the woman seems to know exactly what she’s doing as she turns her attention towards Zebinul’s broken leg. \n***\n^(*Find more of my writing at r/Syraphia*)"
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[WP] You are one of the wicked Wizards many minions. Your boss has finally defeated his arch nemesis and as the fallen hero collapses to the ground, the wizard gestures to the body. "You know what to do," he says, but you have no idea, it is your first day after all.
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"\"M... My Datu, what should I do?\" I am shaking, clutching my sword and shield tighter, afraid of another bout of magical fighting.\n\nThe old wizard looks aghast. He never heard such a question in his life. \"Excuse me? You have applied for work here, sworn an oath to defend me and my fellow minions, all of this yesterday at that, and you have no idea how to kill?\"\n\n\"My Datu, please, I do, but I do not know if there is a proper protocol, and...\", Oh Hyang, I think I am leaking a bit, \"... if you prefer this hero be killed one way or another.\"\n\n\"I, Datu Simpang Terbelah, ...\" the old wizard rubs his chin, \"... well, come here and I'll tell you what to do.\"\n\nAt first, I inch closer to him, afraid to be turned to a frog and eaten for dinner. But I also am afraid he loses his patience, so I sprint to his side. Datu Simpang Terbelah kneels before the young hero's body, clutching his tiny jar of soul collection.\n\n\"At least you do know how to behead a person?\" I nodded. This is it, I have peed and pooped myself all over. \n\nThe Datu smiled. \"Good, let's begin.\" \n\nI slung my shield to my back, and takes a high guard. Datu Simpang Terbelah is reciting incantations and circles the jar on the hero's head. After a few minutes, the hero's eyes suddenly opened. I swung my sword and blood spattered on the floor. And the Datu's face! Oh Hyang, my Hyang, how am I supposed to meet my ancestors?\n\nI am shivering all over my body seeing his body, glistening deep red except for his eyes, two sharp flints casting a glance at me. \"Datu, have I hurt you?\"\n\nThe Datu checks his hands. \"No fingers severed. For a first day worker, you are rather good.\" The Datu hands me the hero's head. \"This head is yours. Consider it a gift. I have what I wanted.\" The jar he has on his hand glows slightly violet. I look at it in amazement as the Datu goes to a washing maid to get himself cleaned. I think I need to get myself cleaned too.\n\n",
"\"I trust you cleaned up that bit of a mess from earlier, Shagrimar.\" The Lord Enchanter appeared incredibly calm for having bested the biggest threat to his existence earlier that day. He was enjoying a nice dinner before attending to his usual studies for the rest of the evening. Others of his retinue made idle chit-chat about the ongoing conquests that were sure to be coming down the line.\n\n\"Oh yes sir, right away I attended to the matter sir. How is he?\" Shagrimar asked.\n\nThe Lord Enchanter blinked, genuinely puzzled by the question. \"I, what, I killed him so he should still be dead.\" He took a sip from his goblet to wash down the bite of meat from the succulent roast and spiced vegetables. \"Even fixing that condition is beyond my skills!\" The Lord Enchanter chuckled at his own joke and took another bite. The cronies and generals also laughed and raised their glasses in salute.\n\n\"No, my Lord, forgive me. I mean how does he taste? The hero?\" pressed the underling.\n\nThe Lord Enchanter's chewing slowed to a halt. He swallowed, his eyes boring into Shagrimar's skull. Finally he blinked. \"What?\"\n\nShagrimar began to grow nervous. \"The roast, my Lord. Begging your pardon, but you told me I knew what to do. Before joining your cause I was a humble butcher in town. Just my pa, and his pa before him. And we lived by the adage of 'Waste not, Want not'.\" As he talked the newly recruited flunky began to sweat. The retinue began to murmur. \"The, um, heh, um, the hero was a fine strapping lad. Well muscled, and lean meat to boot. Sure, it's not a deer or a cow or a pig, but meat's meat as my pa was fond of saying. I thought with this being an evil regime... it wouldn't be... a problem?\" Shagrimar had begun to back up as the tone grew from confusion to anger, and from to disgust and horror.\n\nThe Lord Enchanter swatted the plate before him aside. \"This,\" he pointed to the thinly sliced cuts of meat upon the serving tray in the center of the table, \"is the *hero*?\" When Shagrimar gave a weak nod in answer the Enchanter screamed. \"Do you realize what you have done!? The Gods detest cannibalism! It is the one thing forbidden to mankind! The **one** thing! Murder and conquest are acceptable! Pillage and rape all you want, but do not eat the flesh of your fellow man!\" The rest of the dinner party began to panic at that point. The sky grew dark, thunder rumbled, and the entire castle quaked. A blinding light poured in from the windows, and the panicked screams turned into spine shivering wails of anguish. When the light passed, Shagrimar saw himself alone in the room. Only small piles of ash were where those who had just been enjoying their victory feast sat moments before. The Hero was dead, but so was the unconquerable Evil that had been the Lord Enchanter.\n\nThe story came to an end and the little boy stared up into the old man's eyes. \"And that's how you saved the world, Grandpa?\"\n\nShagrimar, now known as Emperor Shagrimar for having saved not only the kingdom but the entire world from the wrath of the Lord Enchanter, nodded. \"Yes lad, that's the truth of it. No magic, no special sword, just the dumb son of a butcher who honestly didn't know better. Now, Good Night.\""
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[WP] That dream again...the hidden door or secret passageway in your house. Well, where does it lead?
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"The secret passageway lead to a secret basement. \n\nA regular basement in every way, but imbued with a sense of wonder and mystery only because it had been a secret for so long. Still, it was just a regular basement in every way, so I rarely used the secret passageway anymore.\n\nBut the hidden door? Oh, now that...that was *special*.\n\nThere was something simultaneously sacred and sordid about the door; something simultaneously pure and profane that made me feel like I would have to sacrifice the whole of my being just to save the essence of the secret that lay inside. \n\nFor you see...the hidden door led to the secret of *her* heart. \n\nHer.\n\nThat girl you didn't know. The one who liked all your posts on Facebook, retweeted all your Tweets, read and commented on all your Reddit writing prompts. \n\nAll you knew about her was her username. But when you stepped through the door, you were inside her -- body, soul, and mind -- to the point where you were her. \n\nYou looked through her eyes as she scrolled through social media in the middle of the night, looking for your posts.\n\nYou listened through her ears, as her parents fought in the next room.\n\nYou felt through her fingers, as she typed encouraging comments to your late-night musings.\n\nYou smelled through her nose, the stench of liquor, as her father stumbled into her room and screamed at her for 'talking to some boy online.'\n\nAnd through her heart, you could feel what she desired most.\n\nLong after the house had quieted down; long after her tears had dried on her cheeks; longer after the welts from the belt stopped burning; she desired this:\n\nThat you write back. Once. Acknowledge her.\n\nFor all this time, you had never written a single word back to her. \n\nNot even a 'Hello.'\n\n"
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