Split (1)

train · 199k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 8 314	comment_texts listlengths 1 74	num_stories int64 1 74
	[WP] You have a secret ability that lets you communicate with domesticated animals, but it gets weird when a sheep asks you for help in an elaborate escape plan...	[ "The sheep headbutts me in the stomach. You're not getting away that easily.\n\nI double over. My breath comes in gasps. \"I've got...to get...to work.\"\n\nWe've all got places to be. For you, it's work. For me, it's beyond this fence.\n\nSpeaking of that fence, I figure that if I take a running jump, I could get high enough up it that the sheep can't harm me. This shortcut has already turned into a longcut and I'd love to not get fired today.\n\nDon't even think about it. The sheep paws the ground and snorts like a bull about to charge.\n\nI'm about to make a run for it when my ailing stomach spasms again. \"Fine,\" I say after the pain goes away, \"what is it you want me to do?\"\n\nThe sheep trots over next to me. I've put a lot of thought into this. It's sheepy little eyes get big and wide. They've got grilles on the ground to either side of the gate, so unless you've got a plank of wood in your back pocket or you can carry me, we've got to find another way.\n\nI pat my back pocket. Then I pat my spindly programmer's arms. \"No luck there. What's plan C?\"\n\nYou're going to have to cut down the water tower next to the fence, so that it falls onto the fence and breaks it.\n\n\"And how do I cut down the water tower?\n\nThe sheep takes my pant leg between its teeth and drags me around to face a redbrick shed. You'll need the farmer's chainsaw out of that shed.\n\n\"That sounds easy enough.\" I step toward the shed but the sheep bites my pant leg again.\n\nNot so fast. The shed is locked. To get inside you'll need the key out of the farmer's key cabinet.\n\nI scratch my head. \"And how am I supposed to get inside the key cabinet?\"\n\nThe sheep scuffs its hoof against the ground. That's a tough one. The farmer is away right now, but his wife is home. You'll have to get her to let you into the house.\n\n\"If this scheme hinges on my seductive abilities, I'll be honest with you, we'd better call it off now.\"\n\nI've never seen an animal roll its eyes before. Even I can tell that you've got no game. No, what you'll be doing is putting on this uniform* -- the sheep drags a blue electrician's uniform out from under a scrub bush -- and getting her to let you look at their water meter, which is in the basement.\n\n\"So I put on the uniform, get into the basement, find a way to get to the cabinet, steal the key, open the shed, grab the chainsaw, and use it to cut down the water tower, all without the wife calling the cops?\"\n\nThe sheep bobs its head. That's right.\n\n\"Alright, then. Let's do this.\"\n\nI sprint for the fence, leap higher than an Olympic jumper, and hit the ground running on the other side.\n\nYou piece of human garbage! You liar! You baaaaad man!\n\n\"Sorry, sheep! You're a madman -- madsheep! Maybe next time you threaten a stranger with the ability to speak telepathically to animals it'll work out better for you!\"\n\nI get to work late anyway and my boss fires me.\n\nFuck sheep." ]	1
	[WP] In today's society, your social ranking is plain to see in the form of an ever-changing number on your wrist, measured by a combination of mental stability, income and crime record. After going out with your crush for the 3rd time, you finally question why they always wear long sleeved shirts.	[ "\"... I don't want to talk about it.\"\n\nI stare at him, open mouthed. \n\n\"Look, I won't get mad if you have a really low score. I mean really, most people over a 70 won't even consider talking to someone who hasn't proved their status, but I don't care! Even if you're a lowly dreg I'll still love you,\" I say with a smile. \n\nHe groans, \"lowly? What's so bad about having a low score?\"\n\n\"Well, people with lower scores are either stupid or a criminal, I wouldn't really consider that a good thing.\"\n\n\"Oh please,\" he scoffs. \"The scores are rigged in favor of those who already have higher scores and we all know that the 25th percent-ers almost never get convicted of crimes they commit.\"\n\nI'm baffled. Is he really taking the side of those lowlifes? What if-\n\n\"You're one of them, aren't you? I can't believe I've spent time with a dreg, you're lucky I don't report you for harassment! Of course, that would only bring your score down more- if you even have points to lose, that is.\" \n\nRather than responding with dismay at my accusation, he remains utterly calm. \n\n\"I'm glad I could see this side of you,\" he states. \n\nWhat's that supposed to mean?\n\n\"Good, because that's the last pleasure I'll ever grant you. God knows why you haven't grateful that I, a 72, allowed you to be in my-\"\n\nHe stands up abruptly, his chair jolting back with an unbearable screech. \n\n\"I've heard enough. By the way, you should probably look down.\"\n\nI stare at my wrist, and to my dismay see my beloved 72 falling down, down, down. \n\n\"Oh, and one last thing,\" he says, pulling his sleeve back to reveal a white arm imprinted with a number. \n\n100. ", "After the third date I just bluntly asked her. \n\n\"You know, I'm not stupid. Hiding our codes is not uncommon, and I really did not want to ask about it, but come on! This is our third date! I've obviously shown that I'm interested in you, hell I'm head over heels in love with you! I haven't hidden the fact that I'm ranked at 44.6%, which is far from perfect. Even if you are in the 10th percentile of people, I'll still love you. Can I ask that you trust me enough to show me your rank?\"\n\nShe smiled softly, as she often does, while reaching out her hands to hold mine. The light stroking of her fingers on the back of my hand made me feel safe, but I wasn't going to let her try and distract me from the issue at hand.\n\n\"Please, I don't really care about what percentage is written on your wrist, I just want to know that you trust me enough to continue this relationship,\" I pleaded. \n\nNow her face became a little bit more stern. She tightened her grip on my hands, and let out a sigh. She stared into my eyes for a few seconds, and then a few more staring into her own hands, as if toiling in her head on what to do. Her brows furrowed, and her lips pursed. Finally, she looked back up to me and said,\n\n\"Don't be alarmed. When I show you this number, I want you to promise me you won't raise your voice, and that we can just talk about it for a bit.\"\n\nI nodded my head furiously, now a little bit more concerned about what was hiding under her sleeve. If it was a high number, was she scared of me thinking she was too good for me? Or if it was a low number, was she scared that I would leave her on the spot? No matter what it was, I knew from these last three dates that I loved her, and there was no possible way that I could ever leave her.\n\nShe grabbed the sleeve of her left arm by the wrist, and slowly lifted it up. \n\n.01%\n\n\"Ok, I know I agreed to not raising my voice and talking this out, but how in the hell do you have a .01%? This score is a combination of your mental stability, income, and crime record. How bad of a person are you to have a .01%?\" My voice at this point was a little raised. \n\n\"I know you are actually quite well off, at least in the 75th percentile, is it your mental stability or your crime record dragging you down?\" I pulled my hands out of her grasp.\n\nShe looked at me sadly, and through teary eyes said,\n\n\"I actually also have a 78% in mental stability\"\n\n\"So it's crime? What kinds of crimes are you committing to drag two great scores all the way down to .01%? Are you the reincarnation of Hitler or something? What secrets are you keeping from me?\" At this point I was yelling. I hated that I was breaking a promise I made with her just thirty seconds ago, but I was too belligerent to care.\n\n\"I-I can explain it though\" she said, trying to hold back her tears. \"I was just a kid, a-and I knew nothing!\" Tears started to roll down her face. Her cheeks were now completely blood red, \"I-I thought it would download faster if I didn't seed! But I knew nothing! I was an idiot!\"\n\nI look at her in utter disgust. \"Don't call me again, we are over. Don't even tell anyone we've gone on dates, I don't want anyone to associate me with you.\" I turned away and ran away from that monster. \n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] Where do writers go when they die?	[ "The chair that he sat in was hard. It rocked, causing the floorboards to creek. The light was off. He had meant to turn it on before he sat down, but he hadn't. And now he was sitting.\n\nIn his hand was a book. It was his book. Not his book in the sense that he owned it. Although he supposed that he did own it. It was his book because he wrote it. He wrote a lot of books, once. People liked them, too. He hadn't thought of himself as a writer, then. \n\nHe'd wanted to be a doctor. Then he didn't. He didn't have money. He'd still wanted. But he didn't have money. He wished that he did. He wrote about it, having money. He wrote about a man with too much money. The man was a doctor, but he was unhappy. He wondered if he'd be unhappy. If he were a doctor with too much money.\n\nA lot of people didn't have any money. And a lot of people were unhappy. A lot of people who didn't have money and weren't happy didn't write about it. But he did. So they liked it. And now he had money. But he wasn't happy.\n\nHe was for a while, though. He had money, and he met a girl. She had money too. He liked that she had money. Not because he wanted her money. Because she had it. So she didn't want his. A lot of people wanted his. More people wanted his money than liked his books. And a lot of people liked his books. \n\nHe sat in his chair, and he opened his book. It wasn't his first book. After the first book, he wrote more. They liked it. So he wrote more. He didn't want to be a writer, but they liked it. So he was. He thought about being a doctor a lot. But he was a writer.\n\nHe had opened the book. He wrote it after he'd met the girl. After the girl, he wrote about girls. Not about girls being girls. He didn't know anything about that. He was a boy. He wrote about girls and boys. He wasn't a boy anymore, but he wished he was. \n\nHe read his book. It was dedicated to the girl. He was with the girl a long time. She was a woman, then. And he was a man. He didn't wish he was a boy. He was happy. They both were. He knew she was because she told him. And he could tell. He looked at her a lot. So he could tell.\n\nAfter a time, he dedicated his books to two girls. A girl and a woman. Because there was only room for one girl. He and the woman had made it. The girl, not the book. The girl was beautiful. \n\nThe girl became a woman too. He was no longer a man, then. He was, but not in the same way. He wanted a word for what he was. He was old, but it wasn't a name. The woman was old too. Their girl was a woman now, but she was still their girl.\n\nPeople still liked his books. So he kept writing them. He was a writer. He forgot about becoming a doctor. He was a writer. Not because he liked it, now. Because they did. And because he didn't have the woman.\n\nHe didn't have their girl, either. Their girl was a woman, and she had a boy. A man. And soon they'd have their own girl. Or boy. He had a chair. A chair and a book. The room was dark. And he was a writer.\n\nHe died, then.\n\nHe didn't go anywhere.\n\nHe was a writer.\n\nBut he didn't go anywhere." ]	1
	[WP] Write a story in reverse chronology, where each scene takes place before the last.	[ "There was nothing to do in the town of Oak Creek.\n\nThat was how Karen had let Ted talk her into going to Shooters to watch the truckers come in. Shooters was technically outside of town, but it was only a short drive. She'd always heard that it was kind of a rough place, so she'd never been there before. Karen gave an anxious look around as Ted parked the car. Trucks were lined up at the far end of the lot. So many of them! \n\nThe nearby truck stop was crowded. Just before the exit, a billboard notified drivers that this was the last truck stop for 50 miles, so truckers even thinking about taking a break or stopping for the night usually ended up pulling over here. Shooters received a huge boost in business from the truckers.\n\nThe place was bigger than she'd expected. All the stories she'd heard over the years had led Karen to believe that Shooters was a tiny, dark, musty-smelling hole in the wall where big bruisers came to test their strength one one another after drinking themselves into a stupor on watered-down beer. It turned out that it was really quite an open space. Small tables were strewn about, but there was still plenty of room to walk around. Soft lighting overhead kept the place brighter than she'd expected, while music played in the background at a volume over which you didn't quite have to raise your voice to be heard.\n\nThey were there to see the people, though. Everyone knew each other in town. Strangers only came through if they'd gotten themselves very lost and needed directions. Shooters was different. She might meet someone from almost anywhere. \n\nTed gestured to a table against the wall and Karen seated herself. Her eyes gravitated to the bar where several men politely ignored one another with phones in one hand and drinks in the other. Not so exciting as she'd thought. She realized with a twinge of disappointment that she'd been hoping for a little excitement.\n\n“See, I told you this would be interesting,” Ted nodded toward the end of the bar.\n\nThe two men looked as if they'd arrived together. They were actually talking to one another, at least. One man was dressed in a dark green polo shirt and khaki pants with duct tape wrapped around one foot. The other man... Well, she probably shouldn't be judging him, but he was definitely wearing a dress. A light blue, knee-length dress with a floral print. His dark brown beard matched his close-cropped hair and stood out as a bold declaration of his masculinity, which was certainly at odds with his choice of attire. His hairy legs poked out underneath, his hands awkwardly moving about the hemline as if he believed he could conceal his outfit from view. \n\n---\n\nSam raced through the alley, cursing his bad luck. He'd picked money up in this spot before and never been seen. He'd have to jump the fence ahead. There was nothing else for it. He just hoped his body was up for the challenge.\n\nHe didn't even hesitate before leaping onto the chain link fence. He needed to get over before the man in pursuit could see which way he'd gone. That was his only chance.\n\nHe never knew how he'd managed it, never having climbed a fence before. His shoe had come off somehow, practically torn in half. He snatched it up and ran, praying silently that Tony hadn't gotten scared and left him there. Sam breathed a sigh of relief when he rounded the corner and found the blue Corolla where he'd left it, its driver still inside.\n\n“Punch it!” Sam wasn't even fully inside the car when he shouted the instruction. He wrenched the door shut while Tony sped off. Only then did he dare to remove the parcel from where he'd secured it under his belt. He tore into it and began counting its contents.\n\nTony tore his eyes from the road and turned to him. “Are you nuts? That must be thousands of dollars! This is what you brought me out here for?” It was hard to take him seriously in his little flowery dress, but Sam wasn't about to bring that up now.\n\n“Shut up,” Sam snapped, trying to think of his next move. He had the money now. He still had to find a way to get it to the boss without running afoul of anyone who might be looking for him. This was going to be a lot more difficult since they'd been seen.\n\nTony looked incredulous. “Are you out of your fucking mind? I don't hear from you for years, then you show up on my doorstep, pull me out of my house without even letting me change, I might add, tell me it's an emergency and this is what we're doing? I can't have this shit in my life, Sam! I have a family!”\n\n“I told you to shut up!” Tears welled in his eyes, but he couldn't let Tony see. He pulled his phone out of his coat. “I need to call the boss.”\n\nTony returned his eyes to the road, but his nostrils flared and he looked like he'd happily unburden Sam of his head, given a few moments' time. Sam couldn't worry about that now, though. “I have it,” he gasped when the line clicked.\n\n“There's an exit 40 miles away. You'll find a truck stop and a bar called Shooters. Meet me there.” The line went dead.\n\n---\n\n“Mmm, yes, please pass the sugar,” Tony said in a snooty, overly-exaggerated voice.\n\nAmy giggled and handed Tony an empty cup. “Will you take one cube or two?”\n\n“Three, I think,” Tony mimed removing three cubes of sugar from the cup. He lifted his own empty cup to his lips and made a slurping sound. “I do declare, you make the best tea I've tasted these many years!”\n\nAmy adjusted the collar of her dress, smiling brightly. “It's a family secret,” she proclaimed. “Mister Walrus, will you take sugar?” Tony couldn't help smiling in pride as he watched his daughter serve the other “guests” of the tea party in turn. There was Mr. Walrus, Katy the unicorn, Zozo the monkey, and of course, her Barbie dolls. Everyone had their own cup and had apparently each said something quite interesting, from Amy's reactions as she poured each cup of imaginary tea.\n\nHe'd never tell the guys at work, but he secretly loved playing tea party with his little girl. Okay, so he wasn't particularly fond of it when she insisted that he had to wear a dress like the other guests, but it made her smile, so he went along with it. Who was ever going to see?\n\nAmy had just finished serving the last guest when there was a loud pounding at the door. “Honey? Can you get that?” Tony called upstairs, hopeful. It was no good; he could hear the shower running still.\n\nHe glanced around the kitchen, hoping for anything that would help him cover up, but finding nothing. With a resigned sigh, he went to the door and peeked out the window. \n\n“Sam!” Tony yanked the door open. Seeing his old college roommate on his front porch was enough of a shock to make him actually forget for a moment about his blue shame. He remembered when the other man gave him an appalled look.\n\n“Playing tea party with my daughter,” Tony explained sheepishly. “What brings you here?”\n\n“No time to explain,” Sam huffed, grasping Tony's forearm firmly. “I need your help. Now.”\n\t\n\nTony blinked. “Sam, this isn't the best time. My wife's in the shower and I'm playing with my daughter, and I haven't seen you in--”\n\n“If there was any other choice, believe me, I wouldn't be here. Tony please, I'm begging you. I'm calling in all my favors. Please, Tony.” Sam's eyes burned into him, pleading.\n\nAll of his favors. There was nothing else he could do. He owed Sam his life after that incident in junior year where he'd nearly overdosed. Everything he was today, he owed to Sam. His home in the suburbs, his wife, his daughter, his cushy job, his comfortable car. After the years had gone by, he'd believed that Sam would never collect on that debt, but here he was. Tony nodded. \n\n“You drive!” Sam half-shouted as he dragged Tony to the Corolla he'd parked out front.", "The child sparked His new beginning. The child saved the world.\n\nThe words came to Him in a faint echo from his childhood. \"You can always begin again. All it takes is one act of justice.\"\n\nHe picked the child up out of the crib. He couldn't believe it. The lone survivor of the attack, the miraculous one.\n\nHe came to the house alone. The wreckage in the streets made it almost impassable. Two guards flanked the ruined doorway. There was no one else in sight.\n\nHe stood before an army unprecedented in size. Thousands upon thousands stood in formation, snow collecting on their helmets and shoulders. They were all at His command—all marched under the red and black banner. Red for blood. Black for death.\n\nThe world is a cruel place that rewards a lust for power. He didn't want the power for its own sake, but to be taken seriously, to be heard, to avenge His childhood. To be someone who mattered.\n\nHe rose through the ranks, and after a few short years He was at the top. He learned the art of charisma and plied it to his advantage. Get in front of the people and tell them what they want to hear. That is all.\n\nFew infantrymen survived the battle—He was one. He cut his teeth on death, learned the lessons one can only learn from failing to save dying friends. The world was never the same for Him. The world would never be the same for Him being in it.\n\nHe sat on the grassy hilltop, a child of eight or nine. He watched the town below and saw it live on without him. People come and leave and it makes no difference, He thought. I will make myself vital to this world.\n\nThe school was filled with cruel children. He was never left alone. No one befriended Him. For years He resisted, then He gave in. The taunts and blows passed over and through Him like wind through the leaves of a tree. They bent Him into a gnarled human. He grew crooked. ", "I couldn't help but stare at him through the glass. The orange jumpsuit just didn't suit him, none of this did. He was such a gifted young man, and now he's going to spend his best years rotting away in a cell. I didn't know who I felt sorrier for, my former student or the world that would be deprived of his mind for decades to come.\n\n\"I cannot begin to express how disappointed I am in you\", I hadn't intended to lecture him when I arrived, but I couldn't help feeling like a parent who was let down by their favorite child, \"you had so much potential, and you threw it all away. You could have taken any path you wanted in life and instead you threw away countless opportunities for nothing. All you had to do was open the door\".\n\nAs I sat on my couch, aimlessly flicking through the channels for nothing in particular, a familiar face on the screen caught my attention. I recognized the young man on the screen as a student from one of my classes. He looked very distinguished despite the ill-fitting suit he was wearing as he stood in front of a crowd. I knew he would do great things, and before I could imagine what sort of gift he brought to the world, the reporter gave me a cold slap of reality as she looked into the camera and explained the man was found guilty of animal cruelty after being found with several mutilated giraffes he had kidnapped from the zoo. I don't know which dropped first, my jaw or the remote that was in my hand.\n\nAs my class left for the day, I called out to the young man who was sitting in the front row, he had quickly earned the position of my favorite student in the short time he had been in my class. His work was impeccable, his ideas were thought-provoking, and he'd been such a help with some of the other students in the class that I wasn't even sure why I had an assistant anymore. His only flaw really was that he was terrible at finding the easy way to perform a task. He was a quick worker, which made up for it, but I have been giving him logic puzzles lately to try to help him work on figuring out simpler solutions.\n\n\"Hey Jeremy, how do you get a giraffe inside of a refrigerator?\"." ]	3
	[WP] Humanity has abandoned environmental reforms and turned to human genetic modification to allow itself to survive on a rapidly changing planet	[ "\"Who would have thought, Greta, that this plan would actually work?\" said Dr. Thomas Quinn, Professor of Theoretical Genetic Engineering at MIT. He is quite a peculiar man, but of course, we all were slightly more peculiar than how we used to be. \"How exactly did you implement the technology from livestock to humans again? I am still curious about the experimental process that led to your discovering of externally conditioned genes.\" \n\n\"Oh, my dear! The experiment is always the easiest process.\" he said with a slight chuckle as if he were laughing at a joke he was thinking about. The mind of a great thinker has always fascinated me, it's sad that my predecessors had never trusted the people with this ability. That is why we are direly making these changes now! I don't even recognize my own population anymore, let alone the ones living in the most extreme areas. The ones who have survived on the west coast of the Americas can now instantaneously change altitudes without the slightest faintness or loss of breathe. Since the only habitable land in Asia after the last war is Russia, people have developed hearts that prioritize blood to the appendages and brain to keep the body warmer. Plus, now there are reports of populations migrating back to their homes filled with radiation from the bombs and adapting! I never would have thought the human body could adapt so fast, what took millennia is now taking tens of years.\n\n\"President Greta?\" Dr. Quinn noticed the familiar introspected look and aimed to bring her back. \"President, we need full cooperation now. With Universities being built again, we need to talk over this universal curriculum. We must figure out a way to build trust on science once more. These theories may be based in probability, but I assure you, they are undoubtedly an inference to the best explanation.\"" ]	1
	[WP] you just inherited a old spell book from your recently passed away grandfather.	[ " Grand Master of the Distinguished Court of Sorcery. A member of the Kings divine Appellate that dictated the creation of the floating fortress, Atra Nube, which relied on the most complex spell matrices known to man to stay aloft. Harbringer of many prominent alchemists and magicians. A man with impossibly numerous titles. But a man I only knew by one. Grandpapa. \n\n My parents died when I was very young. I don't even remember their faces. The only clue I have of how they looked is a deeply tarnished and damaged silver plate photograph of papa next to mama with me in their arms. You can barley make out the shape of their figures. The only one clearly visible is me, with that innocent smile most children wear. We must've been happy. \n \n Granpa always said I looked like my mother with my silver hair and deep green eyes. Enviable features according to him that lent themselves to earth and wind magic. \n\n \"most folk would be happy just to have blond hair.\" he'd say \"Light magic is the most useful and practical around the home, but those with a plural trait are rare, especially complimentary traits. You'd be hastily taken in by even the Royal Academy.\" he'd insist. \"I'd be a waste not to apply given your blessings and lineage.\" \n\n I always declined. I was never fond of magic to begin with. It was magic that killed my parents after all. I was more fascinated by the sciences anyways. Mechanical contraptions had especially caught my attention after visiting the Hologorium Noctis, The largest clock in the known kingdoms that stands in the plaza before the Capitals forum, when I was around 8 years old. Since then I'd become an apprentice in the kings watchmakers guild and ran my own clock shop on the bottom floor of the house I shared with gramps. A house that I now, aged 17, inhabited alone. \n\n His passing was sudden. He came home from one of his appointments last week suffering of a dreadful tiredness. He lay in bed to rest that day and never again left it until 4 days later when his body was taken to be buried. The night he passed I had fallen asleep in a chair next to his clutching his warm, old wrinkly hand. Sound asleep and lit by warm glow of a single candle was the last time I saw him alive . In the morning I awoke to the feeling of a cold and lifeless room. In the hand I held there was now a small scroll. I recognized it as one of his special scrolls that appeared at a determined time. Usually used to remind me to buy onions at the market it appeared he'd made one just for this occasion. \n\n I didn't cry. I don't know why but the tears never came. I did love him dearly. He was the only parent I ever had after all. He must've cast one of his calming spells on me before he passed, the old idiot probably didn't realize how much I would've wanted to cry. For all his achievements he was notoriously bad at relations with other people. He could understand spells beyond comprehension, but the feelings of others? Those he had the hardest time understanding. \n\n I still held the tiny scroll in my hand, unopened, long after his body had been taken away to be buried in the royal cemetery. I knew it wouldn't be next to mama and papa. Their gravestones weren't even in a cemetery but next to a small spring a good ways away from the outskirts of the capital. I never knew the reason but It was such a peaceful place that I never complained or asked. Lost in thought night came before I knew it. I'd worn down the edges of the scroll with how much I'd rolled it around in my hand. It was time to open it I guess. \n\n I broke the small paper seal initialed with gramps initials and began to unroll it. Before I could get a look at the writing on the scroll the paper lit up in a bright flash of white, blinding my eyes which had become accustomed to the darkness inside the house. When I opened them again the I held in my hand was gone and in it's place was a glowing magic delineation inscribed on my palm. From its center it emitted a white trace leading to the front door and out of the house. I sighed, of course that old idiot couldn't just leave a proper will and testament. It had to be another of his parlor tricks. \n\n Grabbing my cloak I stepped out of the house and began following the pulsating path. It was leading me towards the outskirts, away from the central plaza. I didn't know how far it went but I decided that I was probably not going to open the shop tomorrow, I had nowhere to go either, the funerals of Magicians who served in the Royal Court aren't open to anyone outside the Royal Court of Sorcery. Including family. So It was probably ok to follow it at least till sunrise. \n\n After about an hours walk through the ever less twisting and silent streets of the capital I ended up in the industrial, where various forges and shops created weapons both magic and normal. I knew the area well, it was after all where I came to get parts made for the clocks I sold. I made my way through the familiar streets till I came upon one of the smaller forges. I recognized it immediately. It was a forge which used to be owned by a close friend of my gramps. That friend had passed away about 3 years ago. He was the one who taught me most of what I know about clocks and machinery. \n\n The lock on the door came undone when I lifted it up to examine it with my inscribed right hand. Again blinding me as the lock vanished in a brilliant white flash. Mumbling to myself about his stupid flashy magic I pushed open the heavy iron doors to the forge. \n\n The only light inside the large empty warehouse was provided by the moonlight streaming in through the dirty and cracked panes of glass that lined the walls like columns. All the equipment had long been sold and all that remained were the workbenches that were bolted to the floor. I followed the light to one of the of the workbenches on the far wall, my footsteps kicking up puffs of dust from the brick floor. The line was rapidly pulsating now, terminating at what appeared to be a small metal plate in the shadow of the workbench. \n\n Kneeling down I placed my hand against the plate, hoping to find some sort of latch to open what I imagined was a small compartment. As soon as I felt the cold of the metal plate, It lit up in a blinding flash. Cursing the name of that old man I slowly began to open my sore eyes. \n\n Slowly I began to take in an environment that was vastly different yet similar to the warehouse I was just in. The ceiling was high and sunlight streamed in from colored glass windows framed in iron rungs up above. The noise of ticking gears filled the air and I could just barley make out the sound of wind buffeting against the walls of this... cathedral. I was so disoriented that I failed to notice a single bed with what looked like someone in it on the opposite side of the oval shaped building. I slowly walked over.\n\n In this bed was a girl! A lovely pale girl with short black hair and dressed in a simple blue dress. I felt a sting in my hand. I had forgotten about the seal in my hand. It began to tingle as I brought it close to the mysterious girl. As soon as I moved it closer a matching seal appeared on her forehead, a white line connecting to each others center. \n\n I closed the distance between the seal on my hand and the one on her forehead. Expecting her to also burst into a white flash I closed my eyes in anticipation. Instead I felt two hands come up to hold mine. As I opened my eyes I was greeted by a pair of scowling black eyes. Taking a short breath, she spoke. \n\n\"Yes. can I help you?\"\n\nI withdrew my hand. \n\n\"There was a seal on your forehead.\" Was the only thing I could muster\n\n\"And you can't help but touch shiny things huh?\"\n\n\"...\" \n\n\"Well let me introduce myself I suppose. I'm index, I contain the knowledge to level nations don't let me fall into the wrong hands and all that. Pleased to meet you.\"\n\n\"huh? index? like a book? how do you know my grandfather? level nations? Why the seal?\"\n\n\"What a pain, that old ass didn't explain anything to you?\"\n\nI shook my head \n\n\"sigh I'm his assistant.\" she said standing from the bed \"Well used to be by the looks of it. He's dead right?\" \n\nI nodded\n\n\"Well looks like he's left you his most valuable possession. Lucky guy.\" she said streaching. \"That's me by the way.\" \n\nShe walked past me to an empty space on the floor. With a motion of her fingers she made appear a small table with what looked like a pot of coffee and two cups. \n\n\"Coffee?\" she asked.\n\nI nodded, trying to piece together what was happening\n\n\"Well anyways I'm knowledge incarnated through the power of magic and all that. Well the soul anyways, this body is an automata.\" she said pulling up her dress and revealing lines on her body separating her different parts. Her figure was slim and small. My cheeks flared up red with embarrassment and I looked away.\n\n\"Well anyways I'm basically a book.\" she said letting her dress go. \"thus the name, Index. I've got lots to tell you\". \n\n\n \n \n\n ", "When grandpa died, my mom, dad, brother, and sister all volunteered to clean out the house he shared with grandma. There were just too many skeletons in those closets so we planned to clean it up, paint it, and put it on the market. Grandma would come live with us.\n\nI volunteered to clean out the attic. Walking into the dusty, warm attic brought back so many memories. When I was a little kid I would set my army men up around the room and have huge battles. I loved playing up here, putting on my grandpa’s old military uniforms and pretending I was a hero. Grandpa never talked about his time in the military or fighting in the war, but I knew, based on what I had seen in the attic, that he had served bravely and seen some pretty nasty shit.\n\nGrandma told me that he wanted me to have his uniforms and the few military keepsakes he had so I set the trunks that I knew housed those items aside and spent the next five hours going through boxes and organizing. I cleaned, swept, and even washed the sole window. \n\nThat evening, I took the trunks with grandpa’s military gear into my room. I knew I should be studying, I had a history test and a math test tomorrow, but I just wanted to get a quick look first. The first trunk contained some of his keepsakes: his canteen, his bayonet, a compass, a watch, and some pictures of him with other men in uniform. The second trunk held his uniforms. I pulled them out and took another look at them. After admiring them for a few minutes, I put on the coat to his dress uniform and looked at myself in the mirror. With my short hair, I looked just like grandpa in his war pictures. We could be twins. As I went to put the clothes back, something in the bottom of the trunk moved. I reached in and fiddled with it, opening a secret compartment in the bottom of the trunk. My heart hammered in my chest as a wave of fear quickly raced through body. I pulled the fake bottom out and found a book. \n\nPulling the book out, I could see it was old and bound in leather that was now cracking. I opened it and realized right away it was in a language I didn’t know. Over the next few days, I searched online and could find nothing. Frustrated, I put on my grandpa’s dress uniform coat again, sat down on the bed, and grabbed the book. I thought the coat might calm me down and remind me of him, giving me some clarity. When I opened the book, I could read the words as if they were written in clear English. They didn’t make much sense and seemed to be some kind of a garbled mess, but I could read them.\n\nAfter an intense week of studying the words and some serious trial and error, I realized that I had to wear different sections of the uniform and use some of the keepsakes as channeling devices then speak the words aloud, and I could cast a spell. This book was a spell book. Grandpa was a wizard!\n\nMost of the spells were pretty boring. One lit a candle. Another caused a slight, cool breeze to blow in your face. Yet another would cause small objects to float in the air. One morning, my parents had already left for work and I was messing around with the book before heading to school when I tried a new spell. It blew then entire side of the house to bits, reduced it to rubble and splinters like a powerful bomb had gone off. \n\nI should have been scared. I should have panicked and called my parents or the police or someone. But instead, a smile crossed my face. I grabbed the book and the keys to my brother’s car. I jumped in and sped off, passing the fire trucks that were in route to my now destroyed house. When I reached the school, I jumped out and began walking with a purpose. Scott Tapper and his little group of thugs had fucked with me for the last time. Every morning before class they hung out at the back of the metal’s shop and smoked. This morning I was going to blast them into dust. As I rounded a corner, walking quickly towards my destination, I saw three men in dark navy blue suits standing, waiting for me. One held up his hand and I stopped, not because I wanted to, but because my body was suddenly locked in position. Furious, I began to speak the words of the exploding spell, but nothing came out of my mouth.\n\n“Relax,” the man said. “My name is Garret and we were hoping to get to you before you blew up half the town. We're from a very specific agency. Your grandpa worked for us, and he chose you to take his place when he died.” With the wave of his hand, I levitated through the air to a nearby Suburban. They opened a door and sat me inside. I asked where we were going. “A long way away,” is all he would say. “What about my family and friends?” I asked. He was silent for a few seconds as we sped away from the school then he turned and looked at me with sympathy in his eyes. “I’m sorry, you will never see them again. I know it’s a shock, but this is the only way we can save the world.”\n" ]	2
	[WP] You watch from the deck as your friends dive headfirst into the still waters of the lake. The ripples they made have cleared, yet none of them resurface.	[ "You never really wanted to go to this stupid family reunion. The elders would get drunk and then spend all night bickering. Cousin Aidan would come in with another girl on his shoulder, or loudly bemoan the lack thereof. The little kids would run around everywhere getting into things and squealing. You would be expected to wear the fur you were given a few years ago. Your parents would get to fishing as soon as they got there, then start cooking their catch as soon as they were done, leaving you and your obnoxiously peppy younger sister alone against a mass of people that only thought they knew you. There would be nothing to do but swim. It would be, to be brief, unpleasant.\n\nYou would have ducked out, but your parents pushed. \"It's good for you\", they said, \"to know your heritage. Besides, you'll get to see\" and then they rattled of a list of people they imagined you had more than vague, fleeting memories of. By that point, though, it was no longer a discussion.\n\nUnfortunately, all of your predictions were true, although at least Aidan's current girlfriend was nicer than the last one. You and a few other kids your age had ducked off to a small pond with a nice little dock, and were sitting around chatting about what had happened. Then, of course, someone decided to dive in. He wasn't dressed for swimming, so he had to pop back up a few minutes later, but by that point the mood was set. You could almost understand your family's obsession with swimming, given that everyone took to it like a fish, but you never really saw the appeal. You managed to fend off their gentle prodding, and elected to just watch as cousin after cousin dove smoothly into the water.\n\nBy the time the last ripple cleared, you knew that you had to dive in or wait out the rest of the party alone. You sighed. Then, after checking to see that nobody would see you change, you slipped out of your clothes and into your swimwear.\n\nThe fur in your bag was slick and smooth against your skin. You pulled it tighter. Then tighter. You went to the very edge of the dock, you pulled it tighter again, until you could barely feel it. Then, with a great gasping breath,\n\nyou dove\n\ninto the cold dark water\n\ninto a joyous gaggle of sleek, silver shapes " ]	1
This is based on a story idea that's been gathering dust on my laptop for years. Maybe you guys can have better luck.	[WP] You're the last of a long line of dragon slayers, hired to kill the last dragon. Trouble is, you don't know it.	[ "I stood, clutching the ancient spear that crackled with lightning, facing the beast down.\n\nDespite my clear threat, it looked away disinterestedly. I felt a pang of sorrow as I declared myself to it.\n\nIt faced me, our eyes meeting. For a moment, they reflected a sense of longing that made me pause. For a while, it was pure silence as neither of us made a move nor spoke a word.\n\n--------------------------------------------\n\nI slammed the mug down, wiping the froth around my mouth away with a bored sigh. \n\n\"Keep drinking like that, you're bound to keel over mate...\"\n\nI turned towards the voice. \n\n\"So this is what became of the Stein clan huh? What a bloody shame!\"\n\nThe rather large man spoke with a voice that rubbed me the wrong way. \n\n\"What do you want?\" I growled under my breath.\n\n\"Easy dragonslayer. Just thought you might like this information I have for ya\"\n\nI sighed\n\n\"What...?\"\n\n\"Well... supposedly there have been some people over in the east talkin' of a dragon\"\n\nMy interest piqued, I turned toward him fully\n\n\"This better not be a game mate... the dragons are extinct\"\n\n\"And how do you know that?\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"It's this really old place where time is a little wonky. Supposedly it's some sort of spatial anomaly that attracts all sorts of people all well versed in battle.\"\n\n\"The cradle, yeah, I know the place.\"\n\n\"Then whaddaya waitin' for? That dragon to come over and mount its head on yer wall out o' kindness?\"\n\nI stood, downing the rest of my drink. I walked over and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt\n\n\"If this turns out to be a joke... if this is nothing more than a mockery... it will be your head mounted on my wall, Understand?\"\n\nHe chuckled\n\n\"Of course! Why in the hell would I give a dragonslayer bad information?\"\n\nI let go of him, turning towards the doors and leaving.\n\n--------------------------------------------\n\nTo be continued\n\nEdit: I just re-read the title and realized the story I started mis-interpreted it... shit... never mind" ]	1
	[WP] Humanity has designed an implant that stops aging and death. Earth has reached a "max" occupancy. Only those couples who choose not to have an implant are allowed two children, the rest are made infertile until the implant is removed. There has not been a birth in 100 years.	[ "It was my 346th birthday when I announced the reinstatement of my mortality. \n\nEveryone asks the same thing \n\"Why would you choose to die?\"\n\n My answer\n\"I'm bored\"\n\nI've mastered every instrument. Proficient at every sport. Studied every subject medicine, law, economics, programming. \n\nI no longer find fulfillment from any of it. \n\nBut over these past 9 months I have rediscovered something you can not learn in any book. Something that has been long forgotten years ago. \n\nThe ability to feel.\n\nThe era of immortality ended an era of emotion. With no fear of death, passion died. No clock was set on life. When life is forever, it loses reason. \n\nBut today, I am overwhelmed with emotion. I feel a love so strong, I would sacrifice myself over and over. \n\nScarlett. My daughter, is the first new life to enter this world in over 100 years. Now I know life's true purpose. It is in her eyes. Her little hand in mine. For the first time in 300 years, I feel that my life finally has meaning. \n" ]	1
	[WP] At the age of 18, everyone is given the chance to press a button with a randomized effect, or to turn it down and live normally. A positive effect and a negative one. The button is said to determine how your entire life will go, and there is no limit to what the button can propose.	[ "\"Ok, this is the moment of truth.\"\nI said as I pressed the button.\nI heard that there is a little chance of the button actually having a huge negative impact on my life. 90% of the cases were just a tiny event that had no repercussion on people's lives, so I decided that I might as well try my luck.\n\nIn hindsight, not my brightest idea.\n\nAs soon as I pressed the button, I felt the change happen. I saw every single piece of information rush into my brain like a river rushing I into the sea.\nAlthough it would be more accurate to say it was like a river rushing violently into a glass of water. The glass was immediately filled up and couldn't get more water in anymore.\n\nI have no idea what's happened since. I have lost all my senses and ability to receive new information. I might be dead for all I know. All I am left with is memories from my life before pressing the button and the memory of billions of videos about cats that I suddenly remembered like I had seen all of them.", "I thought that turning down the button would keep my life from exploding.\n\nI was right, but I was also wrong.\n\nOn my 18th birthday, the man with the box came around. He arrived in his impeccable black suit, with the perfectly knotted tie, and the formal black fedora that all of his ilk wore. The Man belonged to a species that first arrived on Earth at the Roswell incident, but for all intents and purposes they looked like anyone else. Only, I don't think anyone has ever seen them smile. They show up on your birthday, they don't even greet you, but what they do instead is hold out the box. On the box is a button.\n\nRumor has it people have become instantly wealthy when hitting the button, or had everything taken away; that others have hit the button and refined to a state of perfect symmetrical beauty, while others became hideous; and even stranger things than that. The worst was a boy on the news that was rendered like a melted candle, a puddle that congealed around his porch. The news claimed he was an outlier, a truly unfortunate accident.\n\nSo when I turned 18, my first logical thought was \"No. I'm not doing it. I'm not getting melted to the porch.\" That way, I would make it through and maybe my life wouldn't be all candy corn and rainbows, but at the same time it would be predictable. Totally and wonderfully predictable, in fact. No uncertainty beyond the regular sort.\n\nWhen the Man held out the box, against the urging of my parents, I turned away. I closed the door and put my back to it, even as both stared at me like a freak. My father had hit the button when he was 18, and it granted him complete and total knowledge of the inter-workings of locking mechanisms. When my mother hit the button, she became instantly aware of all distress felt by animals nearby. He became the best locksmith in town and she became a veterinarian.\n\nBoth had hoped I would hit the button and become the best at something too. I didn't feel the same way.\n\n\"I know you can't understand.\" I said to them. \"But if I'm going to be the best at something, it should be through hard work. I shouldn't have to risk dying, or worse, something more terrible than dying. Not just to become good at something or get rich. That just doesn't make any sense. I don't want to live my life guided by a single press of a button.\"\n\nThat day they both ceased to look at me in the same way. I suppose I wounded their feelings by not following tradition. How little I knew at the time, my life would be far worse for not hitting it. You see, I was the first person to wave the button away in five years.\n\nI became a media sensation once rumors made it to the neighbors and outward. Everyone wanted to know what it was that I could already do that was so very important that I wouldn't risk it. What it was I owned that I was unwilling to have taken away. Or possibly, what it was about my personality that kept me from, no joke, appreciating the opportunity. The news said that along with my picture, in fact.\n\nI became the Ungrateful Boy, and I was in all of the papers. The recipient of an international-level peer pressure propaganda circus meant to scare all of the other children into hitting the button. But I decided that rather than fight it, I'd go for it. I started charging for press meetings and interviews. I wrote a best-selling book about the poor ethical decision of the button. I gained a following, even. They were all over the world and they hang from my every word. I felt powerful.\n\nWith that power, and the authority invested in me by those like minds, I started to dig. I wanted to know who the Men were, why they offered the button, and what would happen if we made them stop. What would the world be like if everyone was normal? If everyone had to work hard for everything? Like it had been before Roswell? Nobody even knows how they find us on our 18th birthdays, just that they can, and that they do. Like clockwork they arrived even when people have forgotten their own birthday.\n\nSo I dug, and I dug. I used my media contacts to find out tidbits, used the money to bribe the government, and used blackmail to scrape out the last bit of info the government had. It turned out they knew nothing. As far as I could tell, it just happened, the Men came, and the government pretended it was normal to avoid a panic. Soon, I had enlisted many government officials in the cause.\n\nWe marched as one on the compound in Roswell where the Men first arrived and made contact. When we got there, it was a slaughter. I had told everyone to remain peaceful, but in the last moments of our arrival, conflict started. Bullets flew. The Men fell; a funeral pyre of pale skin and dark green blood, topped with their iconic hats. It burned all night.\n\nIn the wreckage of their ship we found diaries, and through years of hard work, we translated the writings. The Men had come to Earth to save us. How, you might ask? And from what? Entropy. Random chance was winding down at a cosmic level, so we needed our world to be more actively random. The Men believed it would spark a sort of self-perpetuating wave that would keep the whole system, all of matter, from decaying. They had come to save us from rotting away into space dust.\n\nI was right about the benefit of hitting the button, because nothing would change for me by complete chance.\n\nI was also wrong about the benefit of not hitting the button, because nothing will change and we were already doomed.\n\nNo risk, no chance of reward. God help us. \n \n^(r/ChristopherDrake)\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] God has just prayed to you	[ "It's the middle of the night. I have just awoken to a feeling of great urgency and panic. Massive waves of stress wash through me as an almighty booming voice speaks out to me. \n\"DEAR JAMES,\nPLEASE, I NEED YOUR HELP. YOU KNOW YOUR FRIEND ALEX? WELL, HE'S MY SECOND SON. THAT'S RIGHT, ALEX IS THE SECOND COMING. THE PROBLEM IS THAT HE'S A JUNKIE! I NEED YOU TO SET HIM STRAIGHT, BECAUSE IF I INTERVENE WITH HUMANITY AGAIN I LOSE A BET WITH SATAN. agh, I hate that guy. ANYWAY! I CAN SENSE THAT IF NO INTERVENTION COMES TO HIM IMMEDIATELY THEN VERY SOON HE WILL COMMIT A CRIME THAT WILL RENDER HIM IRREDEEMABLE IN MY EYES AND HE WILL BE SENT TO HELL. AND I WANT THE BEST FOR MY SON, OF COURSE. good me, jesus was never this much of a problem. SIDE NOTE, IF YOU DON'T MANAGE TO STOP HIM, YOU GO TO HELL WITH HIM. HEAVEN IS TOO CROWDED ANYWAY. OK, THANKS! AMEN!\" \nAnd with that, it was over. I immediately rush to the phone to call Alex. It takes me a while, because my hands are shaking out of fear, but I finally manage to call him. After the fifth ring, he answers.\n\"James, what the hell? It's 3am!\"\n\"Huh-h-hi Alex, so-sorry about this, buh-bu-but y-y-your d-dad jus-st cuh-contacted m-me.\"\n\"Naw, man! He can't have! Joe's fast asleep in bed! I can hear his fat ass snoring!\"\nOh yeah. I forgot he still lived with his parents.\n\"N-NO, man! Y-your oth-th-ther d-dad!\"\n\"Oh for fuck's sake, hold on. FATHER!\"\nA familiar second voice comes booming out, slightly muffled.\n\"OH, FINALLY READY TO TALK TO ME ARE YOU?\"\n\"What in your name are you doing going to james and yelling at him? What did he do to deserve PTSD and eternal damnation?\"\n\"YOU NEED HELP, SON. I CAN'T ALLOW YOU TO SUCCUMB TO TEMPTATION AGAIN, BUT YOU KNOW HOW IT IS WITH ME AND YOUR UNCLE, I'M NOT ALLOWED TO INTERVENE!\"\nUncle satan? Huh! That explains a few things!\n\"No dad, YOU need help! You expect me to love and respect you after you created the cancer that killed him! And just because you don't respect my relationship choices!\"\nHang on, what? My curiosity is peaking over my terror, so I muster up the courage to speak. \n\"Wh-wh-what?\"\n\"Aw, jeez, man, I didn't want you to find out this way. The truth is, I'm gay, and somehow, just randomly, the love of my life is diagnosed with leukaemia the day before I plan to propose to him and come out to the world. The doctors said they'd never seen leukaemia take someone so fast. They said it was, and I quote, 'an act of God.' The drugs help with the pain of loss. And all because SOMEONE can't be a little accepting.\"\nOh! That explains a lot actually! \n\"L-listen, man, I I'm alw-ways h-here to suh-support y-you.\"\n\"Thank you, James. I'm sorry for not telling you soo-\"\nAlex is abruptly cut off by God, his deep and booming voice even louder this time.\n\"I DON'T CARE WHAT PEOPLE DO IN THE PRIVACY OF THEIR OWN HOMES AS LONG AS IT'S NOT AROUND ME. BUT CONSIDERING I'M OMNIPRESENT, EVERYTHING IS AROUND ME AND YOU ARE MY SON!\"\nI then, over the phone, hear a door burst open and slam into the wall, with a third voice exploding out of the speaker of my phone. \n\"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE FOR GOD'S SAKE SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP AROUND HERE I BET YOU'VE WOKEN UP THE WHOLE DAMN NEIGHBOURHOOD AND...\"\nAh. It's Joe. Not even God hath no fury like a sleep deprived Joseph Morningstar. By this point I know the conversation is over and I've been damned to hell for failing. I curl up and cry for a good fifteen minutes until God speaks to me again, but in a less intimidating voice.\n\"Thank you for trying, James. I can't actually damn you to suffer eternally, the only person who can do that is you. Those were empty threats. But I'll put in a good word for you with the gatekeeper of heaven for at least trying.\"\n" ]	1
	[WP] A timid young man meets a strange girl and follows her into a mysterious world	[ "Thunderous booms echoed in the pitch black, deep metallic drumming that straddled the line between being heard and being felt. I stared down as the vibrations thudded in my chest, and my heart began to subconsciously match their cadence, which sped and grew violently until one crack rang out above the rest with finality.\n\nThe gate slowly pined open, a dim light shining through an ever gaping crease between the doors. A shadow unfolded at our feet, a prelude to the evil that would follow. The great dragon's head peered through first. His candlelit eyes flickered in the darkness. The air began to fill with the smell of ash and sulfur.\n\nThen came the Knight of Darkness. At first just a speck upon the dragon's back, we watched in terror as he came closer into view. His features were unremarkable, blurred even. It was as if he stole every spark of lightness around him. It was cold, unsettling.\n\nAs he leaped from his dragon and beckoned toward our band of adventurers, I typed a message to my teammates, \"clerics equip orbs of magical resistance, tanks up front, and can we get a damage buff?\"\n\nThere was a knock at the door.\n\nDamnit\n\n\"hld on brb\"\n\nI could see my partymates feverishly typing at me. I'd be pissed too.\n\nI leapt over the back of the couch to the door. I went to open it and then thought better. I hadn't had a friend over in years. I hadn't ordered anything. My parents weren't home. I took my hand off the doorknob and peeked through the looking glass. Outside my room was a girl, maybe 13. She was wearing red pajama bottoms with a plain yellow t-shirt. Harmless enough. I opened the door.\n\n\"Um, hi. Can I help you?\"\n\nShe looked down at her barefoot feet, twisting her toes in and out and in and out. After an awkward few seconds, she asked, \"Are you Ben?\"\n\n\"Do I, uh, do I know you?\" I was, in fact, Ben, but the whole situation had me a little confused.\n\n\"No. Not really anyway. Can you help me?\" Her fidgeting was contagious. Now, her feet were shifting back and forth while her hands twisted and untwisted the bottom of her t-shirt in rhythm.\n\n\"I'm not sure. You know, my parents aren't home, and I really shouldn't. . .\"\n\n\"I was supposed to be at a sleepover, but my friend got in trouble and her parents took us home. My parents are out of town too.\" She peeked around me into my room, checking whether I was, in fact, alone. \"They keep a spare key hidden upstairs on the roof, but the door to the rooftop is stuck.\"\n\nThe roof is a terrible place to keep a spare key, I thought to myself.\n\n\"Please.\" For the first time, she looked up at me, big brown eyes straight out of the Saturday morning cartoons pleading with me.\n\nI took a look back at my computer screen. My elvish assassin was being pummeled by the Knight of Darkness' axe while simultaneously being burnt alive by a torrent of blue fire. His HP was down to 12. The clerics had stopped casting healing on me, and pages of all-caps messages had gone up since I had gone to the door, presumably cursing me out for ditching them at the final boss. But then I looked back at the girl, standing barefoot in her pajamas in front a stranger's apartment. I supposed I had to help her.\n\n\"Ok. Let's go.\" I grabbed my flip flops from beside the door and kicked them on my feet. \"Do you, um, do you want any shoes?\"\n\n\"No, I'm ok. It's this way to the roof.\"\n\nI followed, a few steps behind at first, as we headed toward the stairs. Our building was 12 stories high, and I lived on the 9th, so it wasn't much of a hike. We reached the door to the roof, and she tried it but it wouldn't budge.\n\n\"See, I can't get it open.\"\n\nI tried the handle a few times myself to no avail. \n\n\"Ok. Back up.\"\n\nWe didn't have a doorman, and the building managers didn't come by on the weekend, so brute force seemed like the best option. I began smashing at the door, with my fists at first, hoping the sound of clanging metal booming throughout the air wouldn't bother those people on the 12th floor. When that failed, I tried kicking at the door, harder and harder, louder and louder. Panting, I looked back at the girl in hopes she would tell me that it was ok to stop, that I had done my best and that she appreciated my trying.\n\n\"Can you try again. Just one more time? Please?\"\n\nI gestured for her to stand back and gathered myself about 5 feet back from the door. With all my weight behind me, I threw my shoulder into the door. I felt a crack, and the door budged, ever so slightly. I tried the handle, which, while broken, now seemed to move. I waved the girl in front of me, and she slowly opened the door, the light from the stairwell pouring out into the darkness of the rooftop.\n\nAs I followed just behind her, the light revealed a band of travelers waiting for us on the rooftop. Clerics and warriors, mages and druids. Each was battletested, armed and ready. And there, in the front and center, stood an elvish assassin. He called out to the small army behind him, and with a great flourish, he signaled for a valiant charge as his battalion loyally followed.\n\n\n\n", "There was a girl. She didn't dress like a girl and she certainly didn't act like any girl I knew. But, she must have been an angel. Her skin was perfect. No spots, no scars and it didn't look like she was even wearing any makeup. Her eyelashes were long and alluring, probably the longest eyelashes I'd ever seen. \n\nWhat gave her away as an angel though, was her glowing clothes. The light bounced off her clothes in hundreds of directions, making her seem otherworldly. \n\nOh father in heaven, she was a sight! \n\nShe walked through our muddy town, ignoring the horses and the grubby people, searching for something. \n\nAlthough I was shy, there was no way I could not talk to her. \n\n\"Oh heavenly beauty,\" I said, as I approached, \"how come you leave heaven?\" \n\nShe looked at me and laughed. \n\n\"Oh George, what have you gotten into?\" \n\nHer voice was almost foreign. It was an english accent but each vowel and consonant were very precisely pronounced. And her unearthly powers. She knew my name!\n\n\"Come on,\" she said, \"let's take you home and figure out what happened to your memory.\" \n\nShe grabbed my arm and pulled out a glowing artifact. She touched some runes on the object and suddenly we were whisked away into the sky. \n\nIt was a new world. \n\nThere were silver towers that reached the sky. Each tower glowed with many different colours! Yellow chariots moved soundlessly and horselessly around us. And the people, they wore such rich clothing. They wore purple and blue and red; just like kings! I was in heaven! \n\n\"Welcome back, back to New York.\" She said. ", " The mysterious girl towered over me, her figure alluring. She was too close, her breath hit my upper lip as she had both hands above me, against the alley wall. It was dark out but I could see her face clearly. Bright emerald eyes reflected back my nervousness. She leaned to my right and brushed her cheek against mine. Her long dark hair hid a seductive face and felt smooth to the touch. She exhaled and the warm air tickled the inside of my ear. I began to breathe faster as a cold sweat ran down from the side of my head. I felt the brush of a rough tongue lick it and my heart skipped a beat. She purred and the sound echoed in my ear. I felt the touch of her lips as she whispered in a soft, soothing voice.\n\n\"Hey kid, you wanna do some drugs?\"" ]	3
	[WP] A time-travel company allows for customers to leave their current lives, travel to space, and return 100 years in the future having aged only slightly.	[ "Jerry was unhappy, his 34th birthday was spent alone, drinking copious amounts of alcohol. He had work tomorrow, at a office job he hated. Spending 10 hours in a cubicle cut him off from the world, even if he was earning millions as an accountant for one of the worlds largest companies.\n\nThen, when he woke up the next day, at 11 in the morning, late for work, Jerry decided something had to give. In 2045, technology had advanced extremely far, to the point of nearly curing death, but that wasn't what Jerry was looking for.\n\nAt 2pm on the same day, he found the answer to all his problems. A company, \"WarpSpace Inc.\" was offering trips to space around a nearby wormhole which affected time in a very strange way.\n\nAs the online ad said: \"Tired of this century? For the low low amount of 15.3 million World Dollars, you can go right into the next!\" He clicked on the link with bated breath as the holo-monitor sprung up the company's online website.\n\nJerry didn't even read the terms and conditions as he clicked on the 'contact' tab on their website. And there it was, he had an hour to get to their office for his appointment.\n\nThe car's electric engine remained silent as he turned it off in the parking lot and rushed in. The secretary told him where to go, and he used the holo-elevator to rocket up to floor 9.\n\nAs he ran into the whitewashed room, a short and tanned black haired man greeted him. Jerry sat down on the soft office chair and they talked for what seemed like just half an hour before the deal was struck.\n\nAt 5pm, his ship took off. He didn't car about his job, but he had put his money into a savings account for when he got back, all 125 million left of it. Jerry didn't have anyone to tell about his departure, no friends, no family that cared, he was just happy to leave.\n\nLeave he did, in 9 hours he was safely in orbit of the time altering black hole, he was recieving messages by the minute from \"WarpSpace Inc.\" In the next hour he would have to press the prompt on the holo screen to \"RETURN TO EARTH\" But Jerry sat down, the soft fibres of the chair complimented by the wormholes low gravity led him to sleep.\n\nA steady stream of profanity exited his mouth as he realised his 11 hour mistake. He ran over to the console and slammed the button as many times as he could. The boosters pushed the ship out of the wormhole's gravitational field.\n\nJerry read the last two messages, and he had stopped recieving warnings over 8 hours ago. Not good. Not fucking good. He was thirsty and the half bottle of water he brought onto the ship didn't help quench this. \n\nIn the eight and a half hour journey back he new something was horribly wrong. For instance, the autopilot connecting to what should have been WarpSpace's servers didn't activate. Instead, a flight stick jumped from the centre console.\n\n\"What the... What am I supposed to do with this?!\" But he knew. Knew that he had to land on earth. He flew into the atmosphere at several times the speed of sound, facing directly towards where he remembered New California City to be on maps, very long ago.\n\nJerry closed his eyes for a good five minutes as the parachute opened 4km above the city, he was afraid of what he would find, who would be there to welcome him and he hoped that he didn't slam into a house. \n\nThe ship slammed into the ground. The windshield covered in greenery. Jerry was happy that it was not the rubble of a house, \"Oh thank God, a park.\" \n\nThen the doors opened, and as he stepped out, he was welcomed to the weathered ruins of old civilization. Buildings that remained at all, where cut into by plants of massive proportions, trees towered above his head.\n\nJerry looked upon the mass of trees and greenery as far as he could possibly hope to see and realised that he had made a big mistake. An extremely big mistake." ]	1
	[WP] You are a zombie struggling to survive in a world ravaged by a human apocalypse.	[ "I'm so hungry..\n\nFuck I have to eat something why are there so many lines for everything. I have heard there's a local store where a couple of fleshlings have nested at.\n\nI'm so hungry...\n\nMaybe today I'll head for that nesting ground I have heard there are line ups there as well and many of people have died, maybe it'll shorten the lineups.\n\nFuck I need to eat...\n\nOn the way to the flesh farm. I'm already drooling thinking about the first meal in what seems like forever. I can't wait.\n\nI'm here...Ready to eat.\n\nThis is it, tonight I make my move on the farm, the other guys say there have been to many killed, that it's impossible to get a meal in. They don't know me, I've been through worse I think. Tomorrow I'm going for it.\n\n\n....", "April 24th 2017\n\nI saw many of our kind out today. This is encouraging. Although our numbers grow in the safe spaces, our dark places, we cannot let the unconnected, human scourge dominate the outside world. \n\nI was proud of myself. I walked in the sunlight, unafraid, because I took the proper precautions. I always kept my ears covered and my eyes down. Headphones feed the blocking buzz and my mobile life line provides my eyes a constant stream of mind-melt media to keep my mind safe and glazed. Always stay in the non-think! That is my mantra. I spoke this to myself as I infiltrated the human world. The world of runners, bright eyes and the infectious free-mind. I rode the bus further into enemy territory. \n\nI saw another glazebrain across the aisle and almost reached out to make contact, to show my support but then silently cursed my own stupidity, that’s how it starts. I would only put us both at risk. Human touch spreads the infection. Handshakes, hugs, pats on the back: never let them get too close. Even their speech can be detrimental to balance of the non-think. I quickly sunk back into the buzz and warmth of my mobile device, defeated but safe. It’s scary, the desire to reach out, to make contact, had come so quickly, almost instinctually. The human disease must be even more insidious than we realize. Could it be airborne? Surely not, or we would all be doomed to the unchained mind. \n\nThankfully, though I felt weak from the expedition into the sunlit world, I managed to shamble my way back into the dark-glow, my screens welcomed me and I melted into them seamlessly. I look back on this day with hope. This human apocalypse cannot last forever. We are fighting back, slowly but surely. We stay safe in the non-think and every day more screens are shipped out across the world. One day every home and street will have screens blasting out the mind-melt media. One day soon, we will save those poor souls enslaved by their own freedom.\n", "January 23, 2473\n\nI can hear them coming, and I don’t think I have much time left. \n\nIf you find this and you’re Original, please dispose of my body properly. It’s been a while since I’ve risen, but if you keep my parts close together I think I can manage. \n\nI am scared of these New Ones, though — they’ve been doing terrible things to us, from what I hear. Burning, separating parts, making it impossible to rise. Where did they learn such hate! And where did they come from?! Four hundred years of peace and prosperity with seven billion Originals reduced to less than a hundred thousand. \n\nThe experiments… those horrible, misguided experiments. A thousand curses on the name of that wretched being who first sought to bring life from death, to resow the tainted seeds of civilization long since perfected. Life is wasted on the living. Four hundred years of perfect harmony virtually eliminated. “You won’t drain my brain” is their rallying cry, as if we hadn’t figured out how to sustain ourselves almost immediately after the last human perished.\n\nSorry, this is no time for frustration. The New Ones are coming. They can smell me, and I can smell them. They’ve multiplied far beyond what the perimeter defenses can repel. We’ve tried biological, chemical, physical—but they heal… oh, how they heal! \n\nWe were the same, once, or so the scientists said. But these New Ones are different. These \"humans\" know a hate unlike any I’ve ever known. They hate death.\n\nAnd they’re close.", "The first thing I'd done when the humans had begun to take over was getting out of the city centers. The population and closed spaces made it so that the human menace could ambush you anywhere. It only got worse as they began to reproduce. The young ones were slow and couldn't use any of their weapons, but they grew into monsters. Originally the zombie-politicians had kept humans around for a food source, what a joke. Most of the zombies had been content, but I'd known what was coming.\n\nThen they started breeding the humans to have larger, tastier brains. As a side effect they got smarter. It was only a matter of time until the first group escaped. It had been a \"minor incident\" and they quarantined the city. Which had worked fine for the zombies who didn't live there. Up until the humans had made the first zombie-crusher, a mound of metal that could travel faster than anything we'd ever seen. From there it was all over. The humans hid and built up a devastating arsenal. Now they were hunting us.\n\nI stayed alone, maybe they'd ignore a single zombie. I stayed well away from any ruins or of the desirable food sources. I'd been settling for squirrel brains for a year now. I'd considered breeding foxes or badgers, something with a bit more taste to them. But that dream had ended when I'd started losing fingers while trying to get breeding pairs. I'd ended up with three fingers and no badgers. Not that it mattered. Last month there had been a trail waiting for me, clearly man-made. If they weren't after me they were certainly moving further inland. On foot, no less. \n\nI would have to leave my new home, traveling North. I still had a while before I ran into the cold, but it was scary. I'd heard stories of the frozen wastelands, arms snapping in half as a zombie tried to walk from one place to another. But I would have to move on, get deeper into the forests. At least humans had to sleep, it made up some of the difference in speed. But they were better able to traverse dangerous terrain such as hills or holes. I made a point of not losing time going around things, just changing course. I didn't have a destination in mind, nowhere was safe now. There were no strongholds left, whatever the whispers had been. It was just me and whatever brains I could devour along the way.", "\"Johnny! Johnny!\" My friend, Sam, hobbled up close to me. \"Today's the day!\"\n\nToday was a very special day - it was the 100th anniversary of the Uprising, the day that our zombie ancestors had overthrown the evil human empire and allowed us to live in peace and harmony. The humans were evil, warring creatures that were rapidly destroying the very planet we lived on. The Risers were humans who had died, but were sent back to cleanse them from the planet and to spread the zombie message of peace and loving the world. They had started their very existence by recycling, right?\n\nAfter the first year or two of what the humans referred to as the \"Zombie Apocalypse\", they started to see the wonderful things we were doing - creating peace, loving our world, and loving one another. Soon, they were giving themselves up to us, so we could make them part of our movement and they could see the wonder that we all had. Eventually, it was just zombies on the surface of our Earth. There were tales of a group of humans hiding underground, but it was mostly just a myth mothers told their children to make them eat their vegetables - \"Eat your carrots or the humans will getcha!\"\n\nOn this day, we would be holding a festival to commemorate the amazing achievements we had. In the century since we had turned, art flourished across the globe, nations renounced violence, and hunger and poverty were ended for good. For this day, nations had set up different projects to finally fix the damage that the humans had done for their world. The final nuclear bomb was going to be permanently deactivated, all pollutants were going to be permanently removed from our atmosphere, and the island of trash in the Pacific Ocean would be cleaned up for good. I had been working on a project to return many endangered and extinct species to the world - today, bees would once again pollinate the world. \n\nI smiled, and reached out to pat Sam on the back. Things were finally looking up for the world. \n\n*****\n\n\"Today's the day, Mark.\" My friend Rob walked up to me grimly, patting me on the shoulder. \n\nIt had been 100 years since the zombies had taken our world. The bastards had come out of nowhere, turning humans, or whatever they called it. We had been forced to move underground to escape them, or at least my grandparents had. We were gonna avenge them, though. Even if it meant taking us down too. Even if it meant blasting the whole damn world apart. \n\nWe had buried nukes across the world. It'd kill us, sure, but it'll take down those bastards. Even though the whole damn world was gonna become a hunk of slag, it was worth it to finally blast them to bits.\n\n\"I'm ready, Rob. Flip the switch.\"" ]	5
	[WP] After answering a Craigslist ad, you've become roommates with Anubis, God of the Dead. It's been great so far, but the late night chanting is starting to get old.	[ "\"Kentu. Shallah. Erudu nashal Tassim ro....\"\n\n\"SHUT THE FUCK UP!\" Danny bellowed from his bed.\n\nThe chanting came to an immediate stop. Candlelight flickered underneath his door, casting strange oblong shadows around his darkened bedroom. Danny pulled off his noise cancelling headphones and could hear hushed whispers coming from the open closet. \n\n\"..anubis wan...\" a single voice began to softly chant again. Danny ripped off his bedsheet, leaned over his bed and snatched a tennis shoe from the floor, hurling into the dark closet. He heard it hit with a soft thump followed by a startled squawk from some untold denizen of the underworld. \n\nHe pulled the plugs from his nose and a wretched, rotting stench of decay overpowered him...or...would have...had he not grown accustomed to the putrid odor weeks ago. \n\nDanny stormed into the hallway, snuffing out two candles closest to his door with the change of air pressure from violently ripping his door open. He marched down the hallway. His bare foot squelched in the carpet and he froze. Looking down and lifting his foot, he could see the blood pool in the hallway that now also covered his sole. \n\n\"GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!\" He roared. \n\n\"...Anubis sel God. Anubis tog GOD!\" A group of voices cheered together from the living room. In response, Danny flicked on a light switch to the living room, and grinned sadistically at screeching and hissing noises among the tumult of crashing furniture and bodies trying to escape the light. \n\nCrossing the opening to the living room in the hallway, Danny passed the open bathroom door. He looked inside quickly. The mirror was smashed into the sink, the broken pieces swimming in blood. The smooth tiled floor and walls were ornately decorated in hieroglyphic depictions of sacrifice and slaughter, drawn in blood. The bathtub, was now a bubbling container of blood. And not to be left out, the toilet also had a bloody handprint slapped onto the side. Danny looked up. A single bloody fingerprint was mashed onto each of the vanity lightbulbs over the sink. \n\nDanny began pounding on the 2nd bedroom door, interuppting a soft pulsating purple light. \n\nThe door cracked open several inches and a black snout poked through amidst a haze of acrid smoke. \n\n\"What's up?\" Anubis, the God of the underworld asked, tendrils of black mist coiling from his massive canines. His massive hand, tipped in razor sharp talons, dug furrows into the cheap interior door where he grasped it.\n\n\"What the fuck is you problem?\" Danny hissed. \"It's 3 goddamn am and I work opening shift tomorrow...Are you smoking mummified organs again?\" \n\n\"We're just trying to mellow out. It's not that big...\" \n\n\"NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL. IT TOOK THREE DAYS TO SCRUB THE ASH OFF THE WALLS ANUBIS!\" Danny yelled. \n\n\"Alright, alright.\" Anubis responded. A smoldering fire glinted in his eyes. \"We'll go outside.\" \n\n\"Fine. Just tell your minions to stop leaving urns in the stairwell.\" Danny said. \"AND I sweat to God if I catch your demon rats fucking my gym bag in my closet again I'm going to tie them up outside on a sunny day.\" \n\n\"Fine. Just chill ok. I'll kick everybody out by 4. I promise.\" The ancient deity growled. As he spoke, paint from the door jamb nearest his maw blistered and peeled away.\n\n\"4am U.S. time, not Egypt time.\" Danny instructed. \n\n\"Yes. Fine. Oookkkkkkk.\" Anubis said. He slowly closed the door, smashing a scarab beetle as he did. Danny turned and headed back to his room.\n\nA massive black scorpion the size of a cat stood in his path, it's eyes glowing red. \n\n\"Anubis toh.\" The creature hissed. \n\n\"Fuck off Chris.\" Danny said. Stepping over the creature as it snapped for his legs with deadly looking pincers. \n\n\"Eat dick you too Danny.\" The scorpion spoke. Dannys door shut, and the black abomination skittered back into a shadow and out of existence. " ]	1
	[WP] A story with no point. Just the ramblings of someone committed to a mental institution.	[ "Fresh fresh fresh\n\n Tehe\n\nThere! upon the bed with the red ocean, she was lying, still and now gone-\n\nThe morning it's sings\n\n Tehe\n\nSo I must wake\n\n And\n\n Go\n\nBut then, there is always\n\nWhat there never was\n\nThat will be\n\nNot getting\n\nSo I don't think I'm going to be able.\n\n But thinking never got what the gotter wish they'd done the getting of in a more getful manner\n\n They left me!\n\n Loving is sweet and hate is sour\n\nThe Asians were on to something.\n\nSo I must\n\nBut Weeeee!\n\nThere are so many with so little and I have naught so He is the richest of the poor\n\nAnd ever ever ever onward until never. More!\n\nThey watch and whisper\n\nBut I whisper better\n\n So I'm winning!\n\nMake a boat out of the tan table\n\n We wouldn't want The coming in\n\n So hasten thy pacin\n\nAnd get out\n\n Before we decided to find again\n\nWith the silver slew of silent swallows swishing in the night, I stop an ask what could I have done to avoid this awful fight?\n\n Tehe\n\nWhat they think and what they know, different \n\n As \n\nFor I will wait\n\nI have time\n\n I remember the bloody sea\n\nAnd we sail for her\n\nBut first\n\n We must remember me.", "You see they don’t believe the things I tell them because they can’t see like I do. That’s why I’m sitting here next to you in this loony bin. Cuz they can’t see like I do, and they think I’m the one that’s crazy. \n\nYes, I know it’s not ridiculous- I believe you when you say you’re not crazy either. Probably just a mistake like with me. \n\nHm? Oh well there are magical kittens you see.\n\nYes magical kittens-\n\nIf you’re going to be like them then I won’t tell you! I can see the kittens and I know they’re magical!\n\nOh, I know because they play on the rainbows they come down from.\n\nNo it’s nothing like that stupid Nyan cat. \n\nAnyway; they are the cutest little things in the world. I about shit my pants the first time I saw one come down. I thought the poor thing had been tossed from a plane! But nope it was just playing and then here come three more after it, playing and tumbling around. \n\nThe next time I saw them I got pretty close to where they came down. I didn’t make it in time though, and when I did get there they were gone. \nIt was about that time I thought maybe I was crazy. \n\nStill I went out again, and this time I was real close to where they came down. \nI’m sitting there eating the cotton candy I had brought along watching the little things play, and then one notices me. It comes over real slow, and when it’s pretty close- mind you I’m holdin' real still not wanting to scare it off- it takes a nip of my cotton candy and backs off. \n\nThat was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. That kitten grew little wings, and then just took off flying. \n\nSee what that one did the other four that came that time came over and got some cotton candy too. Next thing ya know there are five flying magical kittens. \n\nGolly they were so cute!\n\nThe next time I saw them they came right over to me. I think it was the same ones, but with no wings. Not sure if they lost em not having the cotton candy to eat, but anyway there were more of them. ‘Bout ten I think. Flying around having fun. It was a real rainy day and they stuck around a long time. \n\nI tried telling people after a while, but no one believed. Stupid doctors won’t even go out to look with me. \n\nSomething about furthering my delusions or some bullshit like that. \n\nYou too eh? Aren’t we just two peas in a pod?\n\nWhat got you in the padded slammer?\n\nWow I think it would be so cool to see your friends. Maybe one day when we get outta here we can see your friends and my magical kittens. \n\nHi doc. \n\nI’m being nice.\n\nMagical kittens! Ha! Don’t make me laugh that’s so silly!\n\nStill don’t wanna go take a look? I bet they miss me and my cotton candy.\n\nYou went to what field to see them?\n\nYou think I really would told you the right place? I gotta protect the kittens!\n\nPromise me that you’ll take cotton candy and I’ll tell you where to really go.\n\nOkay well if you go to the place I told you there’s a small path that leads…\n\n…\n\nHey, what’s the doc doing in that jacket?\n\nOh, they say what’s wrong with him?\n\nHallucinations eh? Like magical kittens?\n\nOf course with wings…\n\nAnd they think I’m crazy… ", "They do walk like trees! Trees don’t walk! They walk like things that don’t walk which means they don’t walk.\nI often mistake things which don’t walk for trees. They walk just like trees, you see.\nThe man is trying to warn the fire about the killer trees. But the FIRE WILL NOT LISTEN!\nIf it looks like a duck, swims like a duck and quacks like a duck… DON’T BE FOOLED! Whatever that thing is, it’s not a fucking duck! It's a fucking tree!\nTrees are secretly mimics, don't let their propaganda fool you!\nIf you can't tell, the trees have it out for me man, I shouldn't have told everyone their secret!\nDon't listen to the bushes, they're in league with the trees.", "A completely pointless poem.\n\n\nTHE WHITE ROOM\n\nHE WOKE UP, IN A WHITE ROOM,\nWITH A WOLF PUP, AND NO ELBOW ROOM.\nTHE ROOM HAD VINES, AND A SPIDER, \nHE HAD TO READ BETWEEN THE LINES, \nHE WAS IN A SUPERCONDUCTING SUPERCOLLIDER\n\nAND AS HIS MENTAL STATE DEGRADED, \nHE SAID SOME THINGS NOT TOTALLY UNRELATED\nHE SAID SHIT, AND HE SAID FUCK,\nHE SAT THERE COGITATING IN THE MUCK\nAND THEN HE ATE A COUNTERFEIT DOUBLE KNIT BANANA SPLIT. WHAT A HYPOCRITE.\n\nAND THEN HE SAW A GREAT BIG FIG, HE PREPARED TO\nDIG A HOLE IN HIS DAZZLING RIG, TO AVOID THE GUINEA PIG HE DUG ALL THE WAY TO AUSTRALIA.\nTHE DESERT LAND OF MARSUPIALIA.\n\nBUT THEN HE WAS SUED, FOR ALL OF THESE RHYMES, \nPEOPLE SAID HE WAS LEWD, HE SHOULD DO HIS TIME,\nSO EVEN THOUGH HE HAD COMMITTED NO CRIME\nHE WAS WHISKED AWAY, SOME SAID IN THE NICK OF TIME\nHE WENT TO MAXIMUM SECURITY PRISON,\nBUT AFTERWARDS HE FELT NEWLY ARISEN,\nHE JOINED THE ATOMIC ENERGY COMMISSION.\n\nHE FOUGHT A BEAST, IN BERKSHIRE EAST\nHE WENT SOUTH-EAST, TO ANCIENT GREECE\nHE RODE A RAPID, IN MAR DEL PLATA\nHE ACTED LIKE QUITE THE PERSONA DE GRATA\nHE FLEW FROM THE ISLAND OF GOTLAND\nTO THE KINGDOM OF SCOTLAND\nHE DRANK CHAMPAGNE IN THE LAND OF SPAIN\nHE WENT FOR A 200 MILE DRIVE IN AREA 45\nHE BECAME THE PROPAGANDIST FOR POPE FRANCIS\nTHEN HE HAD TO ASK FOR SOME CANVAS\n\nTO MAKE A TENT, FOR HE WAS HUNGRY\nIT WAS ONLY HALFWAY THROUGH LENT,\n IN THE COUNTRY OF HUNGARY\nALL HE WANTED WAS MEAT, HE FELT LIKE A MONKERY\nEATING HIS WHEAT, HE HAD A LAPAROSCOPERY\n", "They stare. I see them. Am I staring or are they? It doesn't matter. This war is madness. Back and forth, forth and ebb until one side wins, all along destroying both sides internally. They don't get it; never will. Too busy thinking \"why aren't they staring at me!?\" I just don't get it. We have all we need to end it yet no one will speak. Am I speaking or them? We speak and speak and speak but will never be heard. It's inside baseball, cryptic communities, groupthink translations in war-torn identities. War is hell and bullets over utilized; still we refuse to send the guilty to the guillotine. Fire's the great cleansing parasite, necessary to rid our morals of stains. But you're young and care free—too unburdened to care. It'll catch up to you, though. Just look at me: sitting here staring randomly, conversing with personas I alone construct. But don't you see them staring back at me?", "It's a nice day, isn't it? I suppose I wouldn't know. I suppose I don't know things really. I used to. Used to know things, that is. I wonder when that stopped, wonder when I stopped being a man who knows things. Was it when I killed him? Was it when I came to this institution? Perhaps I never knew things at all. Maybe I was born stupid, maybe the stupid came later. Maybe I'm not stupid at all though. It could be that I'm just crazy. That means I'm not though, doesn't it? A crazy man doesn't know that he is crazy but lives in ignorance. Therefore I am not crazy. I always said that, said I'm not crazy. Nobody believes me. Would you? I didn't kill him. They said I did. I didn't. They said I'd go to jail. I didn't do that either. I'm here instead, because I'm innocent. Or because I'm crazy. Haven't completely ruled that out, have they? It's no matter. I am lonely though.. he used to visit me. Used to. Even though I killed the other guy, he never hated me. He used to come. He was always sad though, he was always asking questions. At first they were hard to answer, but then they were easier and then they were easy and then he stopped asking and then he stopped coming and now I'm alone. Do you miss me? I missed him. Is the weather nice? I'm not a murderer. I don't think. The rockfall was an accident, I didn't cause it. Except maybe I didn't stop it. Or maybe I started it. I'm cold now, I think. Maybe I'll take a nap. Will you still talk to me when I wake up? Will you come back? I need to tell someone. I'll be waiting for you. Have a nice day.", " Every day, the same. An unescapeble monotone throughout life. Wake up, dress, work, drive, sleep. Until 3 days ago. I woke up to a phone, apparently mine, ringing. I answer, hearing only static. 30 seconds later, it hangs up. I dress, and decide to eat a bagel instead of cereal. I drink coffee, like usual. Work was... interesting. Everyone stared, my poster seemed, darker. I thought my skirt was stained, My flats dirty. I looked, they were pristine, I don't know. I left work and went to a friends house, since I didn't see them much. I drove home and slept. I saw a shadow at my blinds. I woke up to ringing, louder. I answered. The static, louder, louder, louder. Something else, too, whimpering. Work was worse. They smiled, the poster was almost demonic. I nearly hit someone. I went home, took narcotics, and last saw a figure peeking through my open blinds. I wake up. More ringing. I answered, shaking, shaking. The static was replaced with childlike screams. I heard screeches, everything felt.... vivid. I dressed, and walked to work. Everyone looked, empty. Their mouths gaunt, pupils so small they weren't there. A lot of calls were made. I drove home, my car looked different. I slept, last seeing a child knocking on my window. I wake up, to knocks. My door opens, and I see empty people, empty, soulless beings. They knew. I knew. I heard screams, from some guttaral animal. The last sight I beheld was my child, being brought inside from her leash. I sleep. I wake to a barren white room, no windows, a phone with white noise. I answer, hearing muffled screams and tears. I slam the phone down, running, running from the white ones. I fall, and I stay down. They know about my daughter. I sleep.", "Once upon a time there was a princess.\n\nThat princess was beautiful. Hair dark as the night sky, lips as red as blood. She laughed, and fought for what was right.\n\nOne day, she was told she needed to fight for her kingdom. So she did. \n\nA bird tweeted......that was a pretty bird, with yellow feathers and blue feathers and green feathers and....red...\n\nRed\nRed\nRed\n\nBlood. Blood was red? The princess thought it was. She saw red when she fought. Fighting isn't nice, only against bad things, like the people who brought her the medicine and that was bad and she needed time time was good but wait would they come soon?\n\nThe bird tweeted again, a song flying through pitches high and low, intensity varying as the sound traveled to her. The princess remembered sounds. Booms, shots, bullets to her ears that made them hurt and bleed. The princess couldn't hear sometimes, and that made her scared. But it was ok, because she was giving good medicine, not like the bad medicine.......\n\nThe bird tweeted. It was a good somg, pretty and light, with, until a larger bird swooped in a swiped it with its claws. \n\nThere was a lot more red. \n\nRed. Red was bad,\n\nThe princess saw a lot of bad things. Like red. The bird was like her friend. She had a friend. She was fighting one day, and a flying piece of danger stuck her friend. He fell, for some reason.\n\nThe princess saw a lot of red then. She held her friend in her arms, the red matching the color of her lips. His eyes glowed, but suddenly they didn't. A man told her to leave him. But he was her friend.\n\nThe princess didn't want to fight anymore. A bird cawed, the bird who killed the tweeety-bird. this caw-bird was bad.\n\nThe princess didn't want to fight anymore. \n\nShe would lay in bed, her pretty hair around her. She was sad. Sad was bad, they told her. They sent the princess home than. She was safe at home, they told her. The princess was content, but still sad. She would sit and read books, because she was smart while tweeety-birds sang around her. She cried sometimes, but the tweety-birds always made the princess chess happy. \n\nThe princess was sad one day. Walking in the kitchen, twiddling with her hair black as night. She sat, as bugs started streaming from the corners. The princess squinted her eyes, scared, as nasty bugs swarmed her. She opened her eyes, covered in tweeety-birds and caw/birds and bats, their feathers smothering her. She shut them, and she cried, crouching as she opened her eyes and the walls cried too. \n\nThe princess didn't like that. She cried again. And again. And again as she lived with bugs in her arms.\n\nSome other people took her then. They said she was mad. Mad was bad, they said. The princess didn't like bad things. Like the caw-bird. Caw-birds were bad. \n\nThe princess lived there now. She sat down. \n\nThe bird tweeted. \n\nThe princess was sad. She missed her friend. She tried to picture his face, but it was hard. The details escaped her...\n\nIt was the bad people. They made her forget. They made her stupid. They were bad.\n\nThe princess looked around her sad room, her red lips biting, and she sat on her bed, looking out the window. The caw-bird...no, falcon was sitting there. Menacing, it ate at the songbird that was singing so sweetly to her before. It was like the battlefield.\n\nThe princess didn't like the battlefields.\n\nThe princess-no, I sat up. She-I, I mean, sat up. I looked up at the blank walls. I pictured him now. He was nice. I liked him. I remembered his smile. White.\n\nRed stains white. I remembered the bombs, the bullets, the screech. The battlefields soaked in blood as a piece of shrapnel tore through my friends abdomen. I remember his face, it was nice. He was nice. I liked him. \n\nI loved him.\n\nI held him in my arms as the light in his eyes faded away. I held him as his blood soaked my uniform. I didn't want him to leave me. Me! He said he wouldn't leave me but he did because I was holding him and he died and now I'm here.....\n\nI cried, a spiders began creeping down the walls. I cried harder, faces flashing before me. I squeezed my eyes shut, images of buildings collapsing and people dying racing through my mind.\n\nI opened my eyes to wipe away the tears, and the spiders were closer. I curled up as the walls bled, too. Creatures creep up from the corners, the cracks, roaches insects wasps hornets....men. Birds falcons bats.......\n\nThey smothered me, attacking be with hits from their wings. \n\nEach one spun and flew and clawed and cried and screamed at me, walking and running and biting me as I twisted and turned and cried out. Each thing in my sparse room was a weapon, hiding something red. I didn't like red. Red was like my friend, and my friend died. He was too red.\n\nI curled up farther, my head by my knees. I was attacked, a storm raging in my room. I screamed, tears racing down my hot face as soldiers and medics filled the room. They raced around in formations and gunslinging groups, bugs of no affect. They were ghostly, real, helping others. My friend lay next to me. My eyes shut tighter, I shout amidst the chaos. \"Help him! Help ME!\" \n\nI hear a whisper. \"Princess\", the man mutters, his smile fading as he lays bleeding by me.\n\nI cry. Soldiers fade, and figures in white filled the room. The roaches and beetles cover me in a blanket of carapeices, and I stop struggling. I sigh, and turn to one, looking him in the eyes. Exhausted, I can't fight anymore. I don't want to.\n\n\"Make it stop\" I whisper. The man smiles. And takes a needle from his vest. I don't care I just want it to stop to forget I don't want this anymore......\n\nI scream from the bats against my face, but they hold my arm as the clear liquid is shot through my vein. They relax. I relax. I curled back up, and the hurricane starts to fade.......\n\nThe bugs crawl away. The whitecoats begin to leave. I was alone in my pretty white room with my pretty blacke hair.\n\nWhy was I upset? Was it the bad people? Bad people aren't good. The tweety bird was good. The princess liked the tweety-bird.\n\nIt was pretty. The princess liked pretty things. She was pretty, she had a pretty white gown and a nice white bed with a window. The princess loved windows. Her hair lay on her back and the new tweety-bird sat on the branch. \"Hello\", she cooed. It tweeted back.\n\nShe sat on the bed, content.\n\nThe bird tweeted. Tweety-birds were pretty. They had blue feathers and yellow feathers and green feathers and brown feathers and.....\n\nRed.\n\n(So I wrote this thing once. It didn't post. I tried again, and it deleted the last half. So this is attempt 3. Sometimes I hate internet connections. It was a bit different from the post, and was supposed to be more random at the beginning. It kinda...became what is above. Sorry, I just didn't want to waste what I wrote after it deleted because I am stubborn)", "It's been so long, I beg you please don’t go, \nWhere are you dear, don’t leave me here alone. \nI saw you then, you walked so very slow. \nWhen will i find someone to call my own? \n\n\nI need you now, my mind I cannot hold, \nThen men in white all lie and force me aid. \nSo sorry if you’re scared, I know it’s bold. \nA love so strong that it will never fade. \n\n\nAnd if you leave I know I’ll die away. \nWhat else is left except to now aggrieve? \nDon’t worry now I know your mind will sway, \nI’ll hold her tight so she can never leave. \n\n\nMy mind has aged and with it I dilate, \nThe order of events no longer straight. ", "We can't bust heads like we used to, but we have our ways. One trick is to tell 'em stories that don't go anywhere - like the time I caught the ferry over to Shelbyville. I needed a new heel for my shoe, so, I decided to go to Morganville, which is what they called Shelbyville in those days. So I tied an onion to my belt, which was the style at the time. Now, to take the ferry cost a nickel, and in those days, nickels had pictures of bumblebees on 'em. Give me five bees for a quarter, you'd say.\nNow where were we? Oh yeah: the important thing was I had an onion on my belt, which was the style at the time. They didn't have white onions because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones..." ]	10
	[WP] Tell the story of someone born with an uncommon superpower, and how it affects them as they grow up.	[ "My mother was the first to notice, i guess being a mother as well as a scientist helps evaluating. She isolated it and burned it off me, in blissfull hope that it would never return.\n\nI’ve read the stories of those who were not as lucky, however for me growing up, it didn’t feel like luck. \nThe regular operations, the smell of my burning skin. Not surprising that i lost my mind, even if i regained it once or twice during my upbringing.\n\nWhen i ''awoke'' i know i was turning 13, since my guardian had given me a early present during the burial of my parents. He died quite painfully when i turned on him, i guess he didn't expect me to read the intent of the gift. \n\nAfter that it was the military, it was a good time for me, it didn't last but it gave me independence. Africa? Never been there naturally, the Shanghai agreement is quite clear on the use of people like myself. Myths surrounding specific events are popular to read, but i would not use too much brainpower on conspiracies.\n\nAnyways i was forced to ''sleep'' to continue. When i awoke, they had enough of me to build a completely new body. Quite nerve-wracking to be looking at what you are, when you still don't understand it.\n\nMy age? When i awoke or now? I can't keep count with all the sleeping i've been doing. But considering my sons, i would believe i am around 3 centuries now. I wouldn't stress the details young one, you'll know all that i know, once the process has finished.\n\nNow please, don't fight me, it will hurt, but i will feel the pain the same way. Close your eyes, my son.", "\"What gave me away?\" I asked, smiling. The young man's eyes were wide with awe. He seemed intimidated, so I decided to help him out, \"maybe you dug into my childhood, I wasn't very subtle then. I was a child with a gift and that's all I thought it was, just a gift, a knack for gardening. So I used it.\n\n\"My mum used to have a lovely garden and she would enter gardening competitions for orchids and roses and the rest. She never won but I don't think she minded; for her it was about raising healthy, beautiful plants. She was a good woman my mum. She taught me to garden, to look after the plants and she was amazed at how quickly I learned. She found it adorable that I would spend hours talking to the plants, weeding around them, watering them. The plants I nurtured grew tall and strong and beautiful and won us dozens of competitions. My mother never thought to question why I spoke to the plants so I never had a chance to explain to her that they spoke back.\n\n\"It wasn't until high school that I learned that my gift was unique. I became a bit of a loner, afraid that people would find out about my secret. I think it changes you a bit; realising you are different from everyone else. While I struggled to make friends with humans, my love of plants continued to grow. I stopped entering in competitions but I volunteered at several gardens around the town. I would often go for long bike rides out into the woods to hear the chatter of the trees and introduce myself to them. Because of all the time I spent alone didn't have to many human friends. High school was hard but I hear that's the case for most people.\n\nIn university, where I was studying biology, I began to slowly emerge from my shell. I was completely inept with the opposite sex but I made some meaningful friendships forged over a love of nature. If you looked into my history you must have noticed my short career as a biologist. I'm not sure that it alone gives the game away but if you interviewed my old colleagues I'm sure they would have told you I was a bit odd. I was fascinated with fungi in particular. Have you ever heard of 'Ophiocordyceps unilateralis'? It's fascinating stuff; they work sort of like a computer program, you know, reacting to stimuli and so on.\n\n\"Biology, as a career, isn't what I had hoped it to be. My knowledge of plants only took me so far and my love of them, if anything, held me back. I returned to university to study software engineering and eventually dropped out to pursue a different path. I took out a massive loan and bought this old apple orchard. I must have been in my mid 20's then and I poured every ounce of myself into this place. The trees returned the favour and grew brilliantly. At my insistence they made their fruit juicy and crisp to better attract customers. For nearly a decade this orchard churned out the most popular boutique apples in the world. At it's peak I was getting fifty dollars an apple. Some people called the price exorbitant, but my customers coming back for more.\n\n\"In hindsight I shouldn't have shut down production so abruptly. That must have looked suspicious to anyone keeping tabs. If I had my time over I would scale back production, decrease the quality and flavour of my apples and slowly drive myself out of business. But my research required my full attention. You see plants don't just listen; they speak back to me. They always seemed held back though, as if there was some mental block in their system. Studying computer science I had learned to think of the physical and mental as inextricably intertwined. To unblock them mentally I had to release them physically as well. When I closed the orchard to focus full time on my research many of my old employees returned as volunteers.\n\n\"My hypothesis was correct; breeding movement into the plants, with the aid of my gift, released the block on their intelligence somewhat. But for a long time they remained idiots compared to humans. It was a year ago that I realised the obvious problem: plants have no central brain, and without it they remain a primitive intelligence. Try as I might I struggled to create a plant with a truly centralised brain. With this new understanding of the problem came a new and obvious solution. We were out of funds though, we did not have nearly enough volunteers, and a new laboratory would need to be built.\n\n\"The decision was simple, and I have no regrets; my research was and is the only priority. With the help of my most advanced experiments at the time, which I affectionately named 'Ents', we acquired the necessary funds, we recruited all the volunteers we could possibly need, and the new laboratory was built. That's the same laboratory I found you snooping in. There was a small stir in the news after my Ents walked into the bank to collect our research money, but I was careful it wouldn't be traced back to me. Since then we have been quietly working away, achieving success after success after success. Well, you saw the latest generation and they are growing more intelligent every day.\n\n\"So, what gave me away?\" I asked again. The young man's eyes were wide with awe, frantic with fear. His mouth frothed at the corners as he struggled against the bonds that held him in place. \"Whatever it was, I know why you're here. You want to volunteer for me. To donate yourself to the cause.\" I grinned. He could not speak or scream, the branches reaching into his mouth and up the back of his throat held his tongue in place, so he gargled and moaned instead. I gave a signal to my Ents and the young man's body began to spasm and I turned away; I never liked to watch this bit. It was over in a few seconds and when I turned back the branches were already receding from his gaping mouth. His eyes were droopy and dull as he awkwardly attempted to pulled himself to his feet. It took several minutes but I didn't intervene to help. He had to learn this on his own. The young sapling growing inside him must get acquainted with the controls for it's new host." ]	2
	[WP] You were accidentally born into the dev build version of Earth, and you can use commands to hack the "game". Describe your life.	[ "The sim was nearly ready for release by the time they got around to me. Picked from the proverbial hat last, but at least I was picked. Mitch was stuck on some POS not even out of the primordial era. Playing around with intelligent, evolved organisms is so much more fun than prokaryotes. \n\nThat’s what I was hired for; a blind playtest of an advanced simulation game. I’m not one for bragging, but I was probably one of the top ten playtesters out there. They hired six of us sequentially, wanting to throw us into the sim at different eras. I was the last to be hooked up, the other five had already done their thing and quit out. They couldn’t talk about their experiences, per NDA, but they said it had been fun, enlightening even. Especially the last two. Charlie had come back early, but he let on that he’d fumbled something or another.\n\nI was supposed to be in the pre-release beta version, but the dev team accidentally put me in the alpha build my predecessors had all screwed around in. After arriving, screaming, tiny and wet, I decided that I’d go with it. Even after my male parent left. You see, I saw something in year four that fascinated me. Someone in a public transportation hub was doing something called ‘magic’. It wasn’t real magic of course, but the simple fact that in the sim characters could devote their lives to the study of slight of hand was interesting. I didn’t expect it, and wondered if I could do the same. After all, what else was I going to do? Other, lesser, playtesters had already done everything else.\n\nI hopped around to different schools, trying out different experiences. In school I learned about the history of the sim, and what probably happened to Charlie. He was the tester who went in before I was called. Until the sim is released as a full game he won’t be able to confirm it, but I’m pretty sure he tried to take over the world from Germany, and was killed in game on April 30, 45 in-game years ago. If I had to guess, I think he learned about other playtesters trying the same thing from Persia, Rome, and Mongolia, and because he’s Charlie, he wanted to put his own twist on it. He’s on the sadistic side, and it showed in his playthrough. Then again sims aren’t real, and I’d prefer he let it out here than in the real world. \n\nMe, I practiced my magic. Continual updates to the sim arrived once an ingame year, and I’d been able to suggest some changes. It took me 23 ingame years to become popular, but if you stick with it you can do pretty much anything. Apparently including start an ingame religion, which I’m pretty sure is what Elise did. The Jesus character threw me off at first, but she likes playing male characters because she gets taken seriously more readily by other players. If you ask me she’s an attention whore.\n\nAfter my first major magic show I knew I wanted to keep going, it was fun after all, but the magic was so pedestrian, only a little more complex than in other sims. I switched to endurance tricks. Not running, that was really pedestrian. Not cycling; other playtesters had ruined cycling by gimping themselves with diseases, then cheating the ingame sport system. No, I decided to go another way I wanted to explore ingame fears. I had myself buried under a tank of water. Then I started training for cold weather endurance, and surrounded myself with ice. Then came heights, I did that one two different ways. The water stunt was easy, I felt like I was in a bath. The gyroscope took longer than I thought; it was quite disorienting! I met a game celebrity and broke a breath hold record, and met another celebrity when I hung upside down. The game doctors thought I’d go blind or kill myself, so I agreed to revert to standing once in a while. Killed a little bit of credibility but whatever.\n\nAfter toying with endurance stuff I switched back to magic; I’d rediscovered my love for tricks. Catching a bullet in a cup, and doing lots of stuff for celebrities and ordinary people alike. I did do one more endurance stunt, on another pillar, but the appeal waned; turns out I missed slight of hand. The cold affected me more than it had in the ice endurance stunt, so I’m not sure I’ll play around with endurance stuff again. Magic is too fun to give up. I hope it makes it into the release version. ", "Waking up was always a slog. Scratching my face, I gazed at the early morning sunrise out of the window of my mansion and thought:\n\n spawn.object_cupofcoffee\n\nA pristine mug appeared in front of me, floating in midair, waiting for me to interact with it. I picked it up and brought it to my mouth. As fast as I spawned it, I spit it out onto the polished floor. \"Oh, right.\" I looked at the mug.\n\n spawn.object_hotwater\n\nNow with my cup of brewed coffee, I started down my enormous marble stairs. On the fifth step, I stopped. \"Reeeaallly not feeling it today.\"\n\n noclip\n\nI zoomed through the walls of my house, untouched. I came to rest at the mirror of my bathroom, and disabled noclip. My pudgy reflection looked back at me. Hmmm.\n\n set.beardlength(.1)\n\nI now had a beard one millimeter long. I rubbed it, testing it out. Unsatisfied, I changed the value.\n\n set.beardlength(100000)\n\nI was now enveloped in a pile of long, grey hair that went to all edges of the room. I relaxed my body, falling back into it. Giggling, I set the beard length back to a millimeter.\n\nAfter spawning myself breakfast and watching a show of my own creation, I noclipped outside. I looked at the overworld around me.\n\nAll of the buildings were in a state of desperate disrepair, with boarded up windows and covered in graffiti. People dressed in rags shambled down sidewalks. An old man violently coughed, and it shook his body. The sky was tinged permanently brown. Nobody talked, they were too tired from grinding.\n\nI sighed, remembering what the devs told me: don't overstep your boundaries or get banned, for good.\n\nI quickly spawned my dog, Rover, and began to walk toward the district. A man asked me for spare change. I told him I had none, which must have seemed ridiculous after coming from an enormous marble mansion. \n\nI passed a convenience store with a crowd of people surrounding a TV. I entered, watching the solemn-looking news woman.\n\n\"The explosion of the Sun, as predicted by scientists, is set to occur in roughly 5 minutes. It is said to be relatively painless, and quick.\"\n\nTears streaked the dirt covered faces around me.\n\nAn explosion of the Sun. We barely just got out of Alpha and the devs already want to shut down the only server. Another failed Kickstarter project.\n\nBut I knew that despite the slow player progression, heavy use of RNG, and brutal difficulty, the players liked this game. It had a massive log of possible voice commands, and the amount of attention put into the game, especially the lore, was astounding. Children spent their entire Saturdays at the library, reading about the mechanics of the game, wanting so desperately to understand how it worked.\n\nSo, maybe I was about to \"overstep my boundaries.\"\n\n increase.servertime(52560000000 minutes)\n\nBut it was worth it.\n\n banned\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] She stood before you, wreathed in crackling flames. Blushing, she asked hesitantly "Will you go to the Prom with me?"	[ "My first response was to stumble backwards away. \n\n\"I'm sorry, WHO IN DEUS EX MACHINA'S NAME ARE YOU?!?\"\nMy question caught her off guard. The circle of flames around her faded, revealing a pentagram of embers. Ah. That's what that spell did. \"I'm...Fuego Fatuo. I...sort of got expelled from the Underworld.\" Now I was the confused one. Didn't her name translate to wildfire? \"How does a demon named Wildfire get expelled from her home? Especially a place of lava and fire?\" \"When you put it like that, I feel kinda bad about it.\" I put a hand to my head, to ease the headache caused by my sheer confusion and the strain of her presence. \"A few requests. First, could you please stop draining my energy? I'm beginning to feel like I might pass out.\" \"Oh I'm so sorry! I didn't realize!\" A dark veil lifted off of my vision, and I felt much better. Still confused though. \n\n\"Ok, second request. How did you get expelled?\"\n\"If I answer this, you answer me. Will you go to prom with me?\" Her eyes looked as hopeful as a demon's could look. \"After you answer me.\" \"Ok!\" \"So what did you do?\" She began fidgeting with her scarlet hair. It was kind of pretty. Focus! \"You know how there are several levels of the Underworld?\" \"Yeah?\" \"I dug a tunnel from four to eight. More like blew it apart.\" I face palmed. \"Ok, wow. That's actually kind of dumb. But why do you want to go to prom?\" \"Answer me first.\" My sympathy got the best of me. She seemed nice. \"Sure. Let me get a proper outfit for it first. And a word of advice-don't show up like that.\" \"What's wrong?\" \"Um...let's not go there. Just try to look human.\" \"I'll try.\" \"Good. You have a week to get it right. And you need a human name. You're not going back, right?\" \"Don't plan to.\" \"Ok, fuego fatuo. How about...Isabel?\" \"Ok.\"\n\nThat was five days ago. She's getting along great. I just hope she doesn't realize what I said to her when we first met. Or what it means.", "I stood dumbfounded in awe. First, I was asked to prom. Second, a person was on fire in front of me and didn't appear to be bothered at all. I had accepted that I wouldn't be going, as bitter as it was. \n\nI was finally able to say \"I would...like too...\"\n\n\"Excellent! I'll see you at 6:00 on prom night.\", said the mysterious figure. \n\n\"Wait! I'm not finished!\" I blurted out.\n\n\"Oh, how rude of me! I forgot to tell you my name. My name is Ember, a flame nymph\"\n\n\"A flame nymph?\" I said very confusedly.\n\n\"Yes. You made an offering to the fire, and I responded. Sorry, it took a while. I was really nervous. Anyway, I have to go I'll see you then.\" Ember said with glee. She brushed my cheek before extinguishing herself.\n\nWhen did I make an offering to a fire? Did I just hallucinate? It can be I felt a warm soft lingering feeling on my cheek, and my eyebrows were singed off. What just happened? \n\n", "\"Er...\" Kayla said.\n\nThe fire woman or whatever she was buried her face in her hands. \"Oh, I just knew you would refuse! No human wants to be with a demon! I- I'm sorry, I'll just-!\"\n\n\"Wait!\" Kayla had no idea why she said that. Surely she wanted the crazy demon lady to leave! Still, the demon was now looking at her expectantly. It would be rude to dismiss her. \n\n\"I... um, well, that's a very nice offer, Miss...?\"\n\nThe demon blushed. \"My full name is impossible for mortals to pronounce, but you can call me Nalin.\"\n\n\"Um... okay. Miss Nalin, it's really nice of you to ask, but...\"\n\nNalin's lips quivered. \"It's okay, I understand.\"\n\n\"No! I just... I graduated high school 5 years ago. I can't go to prom.\"\n\n\"...Oh.\" Nalin looked at her feet. Her flames seemed to die down a little. \n\nKayla actually felt bad for her. Yeah, she was a demon of some sort, but she seemed nice enough. Wasn't her fault she didn't know prom was a high school thing.\n\n\"Hey, it's okay. What with you being a... er...\"\n\n\"Fire demon,\" Nalin supplied helpfully.\n\n\"..fire demon, you probably just don't understand humans that much.\" Kayla smiled. \"It isn't your fault. I appreciate the offer though. No one asked me to prom when I was in high school, so it's nice to get asked now, even if it is a bit late.\" \n\nNalin perked up. \"Oh! You're most welcome!\" She shifted a bit and played with a strand of her dark red hair.\n\n\"So, uh...\" Kayla wracked her mind, trying to think of a way to break this sudden awkward silence. \"How do you even know me?\"\n\nNalin looked embarrassed. \"Oh. I- I was supposed to p-posses you a year ago.\"\n\n\"...wat.\" \n\nThe fire demon bit her lip. \"Well... we demons have a certain number of victims we must posses every few decades, or we'll be thrown out of Hell. I... do not care much for tormenting mortals and this- this was my last chance. But I-\" she blushed again. \"But as I followed you, looking for the best time to posses you, I came to admire you. You're so pretty and kind and considerate!\"\n\nNow it was Kayla's turn to blush. \"T-thanks.\"\n\n\"I couldn't bring myself to hurt you,\" Nalin continued. \"I know I can't return home because of this, but I have found that I quite like you. I know humans 'date' those they like, and I thought prom was a good start.\"\n\nKayla tilted her head. \"You're going to throw away your chance to go back home?\"\n\nNalin nodded. \"I have always wanted to live among humans anyway. I think I'd fit in more with them.\" \n\n\"Well,\" Kayla said, \"first you might want to get rid of the flames. Also, humans don't have bright red eyes. Or scarlet skin.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" Nalin concentrated for a moment and-\n\nKayla stared. Before her stood a stunningly pretty human woman, with long red hair and brilliant green eyes. Her pale skin was flawless. \n\n\"Is this right?\" Nalin asked.\n\nKayla could only nod, her mouth dry. \n\nNalin beamed. \"Wonderful! I can't wait to start my new life!\" She smiled shyly at Kayla.\n\nKayla blushed again. \"Er... you- you need a place to say. You can stay here and I'll help you learn to act human.\"\n\nNalin's eyes widened. \"Really?!\" She laughed and clapped. \"Thank you!\" She suddenly frowned. \"Oh. But won't I make you uncomfortable? I did just confess to having almost possessed you.\"\n\n\"Eh, you didn't, and that's what matters.\" Kayla waved her hand dismissively. \"You seem pretty nice, so I don't mind you staying here. It's a small trailer, but there's enough room for two people. And you don't have to worry about paying rent, you can just help clean and run errands.\"\n\nNalin beamed. \"Thank you!\" She glanced at the floor, at Kayla, and back to the floor, suddenly shy. \"I- I still do very much like you.\"\n\nKayla blinked. \"Oh, well that's flattering, but we hardly know each other.\"\n\nNalin nodded. \"I understand.\"\n\n\"But,\" Kayla continued, \"we can start with being friends.\"\n\nNalin smiled. \"I would like that.\" " ]	3
	[WP] In the stillness of the night comes a sound.	[ "Night had long since fallen, a chill wind heralding the sun's retreat. The moon was large and bright in the sky. Stars hung like glimmering diamonds across an inky canvas, without a single cloud marring their beauty. All was still in the idyllic little suburban street. All, that was, save for a single small child. She trudged aimlessly across the asphalt, her tiny body trembling with exhaustion and dirty blonde hair matted against her skull.\n\nThe girl came to a shuddering stop outside a white picket fence. Her head lolled from side-to-side before jerking towards a house, her body following jerkily behind. Light still leaked through glazed windows, illuminating one dull blue eye staring in. A family sat inside. The mother and daughter sat huddled around a roaring fire, a thick wool blanket wrapped around them while they read from a small book. \n\nCold air wracked the watcher's already shivering frame but some tenuous reserves of willpower kept her from falling. She watched as the father emerged from their kitchen, holding a steaming mug in either hand. He gingerly handed them out and smiled when the daughter cheered excitedly. \n\nIt was almost voyeuristic, the way she stared in at them. Sensation lingered at the edge of her imagination: The roar of a well-stoked fire, the sweet scent of boiling chocolate, the warm embrace of loving parents. Tantalising reminders of a life she was torn away. \n\nShe shuffled towards the front door, each painstaking movement wrenching a muffled gasp from frozen lungs. A hand the colour of bone reached for the door and stopped just short. \n\nIn the stillness of night comes a sound. She heard it behind her, the scraping of something scaled against concrete. A shadow fell over the young girl, tendrils scything gently through the air. Desperate fear seized her heart and she lunged forward to rap her knuckles weakly against the door. The form behind her stopped suddenly, looming over her. Something wet dribbled down the girl's back. \n\nThere were sounds of movement behind the door. Breath caught in her lungs and for the briefest of moments, the girl allowed herself to hope. The door cracked open and a young child stared at her. Bright blue eyes peered out at her, golden locks hanging messily over her eyes. The fires of hope were extinguished as quickly as they had kindled.\n\n\"Who is it, sweetheart?\" A woman's voice called from the living room. They stared at each other before the clean girl smirked, her face contorting in unnatural ways.\n\n\"There's nothing there, mother.\" She called over her shoulder. \"Just a shadow.\" The bright-eyed doppleganger closed her door quietly. A grey, rubbery tentacle drapped itself across the shivering girl's shoulders. It was almost a comforting gesture. The fleshy appendage began to lead her broken form back down the path.\n\nShe let it." ]	1
	[WP] In a shocking role reversal, a medieval princess has kidnapped a dragon. You are the knight sent to save him.	[ "\"You want me to do WHAT?\" The knight was incredulous. He tried to restrain his voice, lest his majesty be offended, but the king had clearly lost his mind.\n\n\"I believe you heard me correctly Sir Caradoc. I wish you to retrieve the dragon recently kidnapped - well, dragonnapped i suppose, by Princess Lynette, and i wish you to leave the Princess alive. Her father might still be suffering from madness, but an act as definitive as that could incite an all out war.\" This was a terrifying prospect for the kingdom, they had long enjoyed peace with the neighbouring kingdom of Anatolia, but with Lynette's father succumbing more and more to insanity each day, it seemed that the young princess was now making a play for power.\n\n\"But Sire-\"\n\n\"Sir Caradoc.” The great king’s voice bristling with impatience, “I have received news that our neighbouring kingdom has acquired a dragon, and may well intend to use it against us. Are you the man for this task, or do I have to send a raven for Lancelot again?\"\n\nCaradoc sighed. He had been hoping for a chance to restore his reputation after Lancelot had greased his saddle, causing him to be unseated and thrown to the floor before the joust had even begun, making him look, as sir Galahad had so eloquently put it, \"a right tit\". \n\nWith Lancelot away, the tale of defeating the princess who stole a dragon would make for a good story at court. “You can count on me sire.”\n\nThe king’s manner became jovial once more as he tried to throw his arm around the knight’s shoulders, only for the pauldron on his armour to get in the way. He gave up and beckoned the young knight forward. “Why don’t you take young Tristram here with you? He could use a little worldly experience.” The king leaned his great frame in even closer and whispered conspiratorially, “dragon fodder…” \n\nTristram was known throughout the castle as possibly the worst jester in the land. He had on multiple occasions injured himself whilst trying to perform acrobatic feats, and had been banned from juggling knives for the safety of others. He had been encouraged by the king to continue practicing, but only in a room containing only himself, but was yet to cause himself the kind of injury his majesty had hoped. Whilst bringing accidental death or injury to the lad would please his master, Caradoc decided against it. He was more likely to be injured by the oaf himself than the dragon. \n\nTo be continued.", "\"But I want one!\" she shouted, clumsy fingers tearing at her now crinkled dress. The young girl stomped through her room, grunting and puffing in agitation to show her father just how angry she was.\n\n\"My dear daughter, those creatures are incredibly dangerous,\" the king pleaded. \"It would take many knights to roam the land in search of a matriarch.\"\n\n\"I don't care!\" screeched the princess, causing her father to wince. \n\"I will be the queen someday! I have to emanate power and grace! And am I not already graceful, father?!\"\n\nHe patted his forehead with a small cloth and nodded eagerly. \n\"Of course, love, of course.\" \n\nThe princess sighed, clearly annoyed by how difficult her father was behaving. \n\"And still you won't send someone to steal an egg from beneath a sleeping dragon? You can't love me that much, then!\"\n\nShe frowned in desperation, walking over to her bed, throwing herself onto the silky sheets in the most dramatic way. \n\n\"Leave me be, father! Let me suffer in solitude,\" she muffled into the pillow.\n\nThe king sighed. \"You can't always get what you want, my dear child. I love you, but I won't sacrifice my men just for a rare pet.\"\nWith that, he left her room, shutting the door behind him. \n\nThe princess groaned, slowly sitting up and looking around. \nShe just wanted a dragon and no one, not even her father, would stop her from getting one! \n\nShe rummaged through her closet, searching for her favorite cloak. \nIf her father wouldn't send knights to find a dragon, she would go herself! And she knew just the right stable boy to accompany her. Someone had to carry her belongings, after all ... " ]	2
You could be a god, help the gods, been summoned, etc.	[WP] You have ascended into the pantheon of the Old Gods, but you are not entirely sure how.	[ "The blinding flash of light was followed by a thunderous clap that echoed in my ears. I threw my hands up, covering my ears as the ringing continued for what seemd like hours, my eyes clenched shut until the consuming white faded into the black of my eyelids. Eventually, the ringing in my ears died to a low hum and I heard a deep voice booming in its place.\n\n\"...shall be our steward, when we have need of such things, to those mortals whom have forgotten us in this age of heresy. What say you, mortal?\"\n\nI opened my eyes slowly, wincing as the light of sun reflected off of the crown of the giantess addressing me. The crown was made of what looked like gold, and rested on long sun-bleached, blonde hair. In contrast, the giantess' skin was a dark and swirling mass of black space. Unformed nebulas crawled slowly across her cheek as twin points of light - suns or white dwarves, I couldn't tell - blazed at me from where her eyes should be. She wore a toga woven of solid sunlight and held a spear formed by the same material. Beside her were half a dozen other figures of similar size and aesthetic, each held something different in their hands but I felt the same sense of raw size and energy coming from them. On the edge of my hearing, I could hear the sounds of pipes.\n\nI felt like a moon standing in attendance to a pantheon of suns. Which is to say: I stuttered.\n\n\"W-what?\"\n\nThe giantess' white dwarf eyes blazed a deep red for an instant, cooling as she exhaled stardust in a sigh, \"We always forget how fragile these mortals are, do we not? Very well human, Listen.\"\n\nAs she spoke the final word, my body felt held together by a vice. My mind focused to the sound of her words, drowning out all other sounds - all other sensations - as she spoke again, my vision growing dark as I realized, dimly, I was going blind with the need to hear what she had to say. \n\n\"We are of the Old Ways. The Gods your people now call Old Ones have come to call upon the mortals of this world. We have need of your faith now as the Enemy draws closer to the centre of all things, where our true throne lies. By your coming here you have heard the call and accepted the burden we now place on you. You shall be our steward, when we have need of such things, to those mortals whom have forgotten us in this age of heresy. What say you, mortal?\"\n\nShe paused, letting the silence fill my mind as it raced to bring the rest of my body up to speed. My eyesight returned and I heard the faint din of whispered conversation between the other Gods, a strangely calming tune accompanying them. \n\nHeard their call? Accepted the burden?\n\n\"What kind of choice is that? If I'm already here, if this counts as already accepting the consequences of something I couldn't stop, then why bother with the asking? Hell, what if I say no?!\" I laughed, hysterically trying to think of a way out of whatever insanity I'd fallen into.\n\n\"It is customary to give our steward the choice, rigged though it may be.\" the giantess smiled back at me, her face distorting around slightly around what probably would have been her mouth if she was human. \"It pleases us that you dare to question even in the face of your creators. It bodes well for the will you will have when we've sent you back.\" The red glow of her eyes was spreading across the dark tapestry of her skin, staining even the robe and spear she held.\n\nI shuddered as the facsimile of a smile stayed on her face, looking away before I could control the laughter from slipping past my teeth, \"So, what would I have to do as your - heh - steward? Preach from the street corners and - aaaaah - harass people with flyers?\"\n\n\"No, mortal. We are not some child playing at god like the White One you humans now worship. Your presence alone will... Sow the seeds of our 'Faith' in feeble minds like yours.\" the giantess purred, a pipe tune leaving her lips as she exhaled.\n\n\"Just - ha - be around peolple and - hmmmaha - you'll, I'll spread your - heeh - seeds, mistress?\"\n\nBy now the roiling red of her eyes had spread to her whole body, writhing pleasantly. I fell to my knees, smiling as much to the stars as to myself as I coughed out a laugh at the joke I'd just made.\n\nShe nodded back at me, smiling beautifully. My other Gods around her laughed and danced in unison, washed all in skinless-muscle red like their glorious leader, to the pipe song all around us.\n\n\"Azathoth will do,\" the Red God sang, her voice overlapping with itself as he motioned behind me, toward my once-home, \"Now go and see that our Call be heard.\"", "\"Uhhh hey guys.\" I said, more awkwardly than I thought but not by much. They just stared at me. Shimmering in their brilliant golden armor. Perfect in just about everyway you can think. Beautiful and fit. Then there's me. 36 and not in the best shape. A bit of a receding hairline with a little coffee stain on my teeth. Not bad for my age but in comparison with them I might as well be a leper. \"So, what's up?\"; god what was I thinking, what's up?! Who says that in normal life let alone when speaking to deities. Athena was the first to talk \"How did you get here?\" Is all she said, confused and maybe even a bit surprised. She lost her godly composure for a moment but quickly regained her stature. She was beautiful. Not just her face and body but her entire being. \"Oh, I uh.. was kinda hoping you knew?\" I stammered along. She turned around to the others, \"do any of you recognize him?\" she muttered annoyingly to the rest. It was unanimous, they were as clueless as me. \"So are one of you Zeus, maybe?\" I asked, if anyone would know what's going on I would think he would. \"He's down with the mortals, should be back anytime now.\" This time it was Hermes who replied. Skinnier than the rest but more bronzed. Still muscular but short and thin with elegantly disheveled golden hair lightly curled throughout. I've never found a man attractive before but I'd be damned if he wasn't almost as gorgeous as Athena. His posture was confident but relaxed. \"You must be here for a reason. I've never seen someone show up by mistake.\" He stroud along up to me and put an arm around my shoulder. \"Come on and have some wine. We'll get it sorted as soon as Zeus shows. He'll let us know what to do with you.\". What to do with me? I just want to know why he did this to me. \"Until then maybe we can figure it out. Do you have any special qualities? Been on any big quests? Slain monsters? That sort of thing.\" He said it so casually, like this was an everyday thing. Then again, for all I knew it was. \"Uhm, no. Not really.\" I really should try to exude a bit more confidence. I could see the looks they were giving me and at this point no one but Hermes had anything other than mild annoyance. \"Sorry, I'm just normal... I think\". \"Well what did you do for work? Maybe you were a master craftsman in a new profession.\" He was insistent we could figure this out but really I would've just waited for Zeus. I should probably play along since he's the only one willingly talking to me. \"Actually, I just work in technical support so I doubt it.\" When I said that, suddenly Hephaestus eyes shot up. He looked older than the rest of them but still chiseled and majestic. \"Finally! I've been trying to figure this stuff out for years! The hardware is easy but this damned software... I've been asking Zeus to send me one of you. I've been asking Minerva but she's just as lost as me. Now come over here and explain this whole internet thing. What is the email and do I google it?\"" ]	2
[WP] You just got home from the most amazing blind date of your life. You're roommate is up, sitting In the kitchen when you come in the door. You start to tell her about your date only she is blankly staring at you. You ask her if everything is okay, and she says "you've been home all night, with me, you have only been gone s couple minutes, to check the mail"	[WP] You just got home from the most amazing blind date of your life.	[ " A rush of excitement as I swing open the door, \n A night with a lady, oh what a score, \n I radiate a glow as I pace around the room, \n Feeling so fresh like right out the womb; \n\n\n My roommate looks puzzled as I stare up in space, \n \"What could of happened when you just left this place\", \n I get all caught up thinking where should I start, \n Full of emotions I speak from the heart; \n\n\n Delusions I see when I look back in time, \n But everything was right I thought it was prime, \n I sit back down and resume where I left off, \n \"Must've been great to get the mail\" my roommate scoffs " ]	1
	[WP] your father always had a code safe in the attic that you have tried opening your whole life. A week after his death, you decide to try a random code. It works.	[ "I remember my curiosity as a child when I would explore the attic on rainy days. The safe had always been there bolted to the ground. It was surrounded by other junk like some lamps and my father's work tools. When I first asked him what was in the safe he didn't give me an answer but instead scolded me for playing around his dangerous power tools. Since then I hardly went in the attic because of my father's concern and I dared not to ask him again in fear of being scolded. \n\nNot until I was in high school did I rediscover the safe and renew my curiosity. I asked my father again knowing that he couldn't use safety as an excuse. However, he responded in a calm tone saying that he stored sensitive information there such as our social security and birth certificates. My mother told me the same thing saying that my father was just paranoid after his friend had been the victim of identity theft many years ago. \nI was just not buying it though because my father never went into the attic. No one ever did. It also seemed strange that he would put those documents in such an inconvenient place since you would have to go through a mountain of junk to get to them. I've seen the safe and the dust around the combination is surely a sign that it hadn't been touched in years. I had a strong suspicion that it was some kind of handgun or revolver because of my father saying he would buy one if it weren't for my mom. Maybe he did buy one and my mom just made him lock it up because he was too stubborn to get rid of it or something. Anyways, every now and then I would go up and see if I could crack it like how they do in movies putting your ear against the safe. \n\nMy father's health got worse over the years as he developed dementia and needed constant monitoring. I would take turns with my aunt throughout the week taking care of him since my mother had passed away. It was a Saturday morning and I was watching some football with my father on the couch. During commercials he turned to me and said that he had to tell me something he should have years ago. I jokingly asked if it was about the safe. Not hearing a response I turned to find him looking at me the same way when he told me mom had passed away. He didn't respond and kept staring at me with absolute dread in his eyes. However, the game just came back as I was about to say something. Distracted, I just shrugged it off as his dementia acting up. \n\nIt was not until today that I would recall his response to my question about the safe. About a week after his death standing here clearing the attic with the combination unlocked. It was horribly dented and sawed into as I desperately tried to get into it. Afraid as to what I would find I just braced myself and flung the door open. There lay papers spread. Close inspection revealed that my father was telling the truth the whole time because it was just some of our personal documents. I was angry hoping that I would find something special to remember my father by. In my rage I kicked the safe which finally dislodged it from the rotten wooden floor and hurled it backwards. I went for a stomp this time as payback for the pain it had caused my foot but stopped when I noticed some photographs that had fallen out of the safe. \n\nIn my initial rage I didn't notice that the interior was smaller than the actual safe. It had a false back and in kicking it I displaced the black felt cover to reveal photographs, a diary, and what seemed to be what was left of a katana. The photographs were of my father's time in China teaching English. I felt a warmth come over me as I held a picture that showed my young parents and what I assume to be a colleague. My father met my mother in China teaching English. She was one of his best students. In the same photo I noticed my mother holding her stomach and showing signs of being pregnant. I didn't know she was already pregnant with me in China. She must have left with my father to the U.S. not too long afterwards. Some more photos showed my father training with various Chinese weapons and again with that same colleague.\n\n Mesmorized by the photos I didn't remember the broken katana and the diary in the safe until I had gone through all of the photos. The only thing left of the katana was its handle and a couple of inches of the blade. I examined the blade and made out an engravement that said \"justice\" in Mandarin. Thankfully my mother had taught me how to read some of the language while my father only thought it was important to speak it oraly. I rolled my eyes as I opened the leather bound diary because it was all in Mandarin. I was no scholar in the written language but my curiosity got the best of me and I read through the adventures my father had in China. I got the gist of most of what he wrote. I deduced that the colleague in the photos along with my father was named Sean. It was strange how he wrote so much about his time with him and never even mentioned him once to me.\n\nI was probably in the attic for about an hour, reading, before the tone in my father's diary changed unexpectedly. It seemed to be about the time he had my mother as one of his students. I continued reading and it was less about his adventures and more about Sean and my mother. I felt uncomfortable reading about such jealously so i skipped around. \n\nUpon landing on that sentence I grew tense and gripped the diary with both hands. I read it over three times to make sure it was not just my faulty comprehension, but it was as plain as day laid out before me. I instantly scrambled through the photos and found the one with Sean and my parents. I stared intensely at Sean. The resemblance was uncanny. \n\n\n\n", "8-1-4-1-7\n\n\nAugust 14th, 2017. \n\nThe day my father died. \n\nThe day my world ended. \n\nThe day that opened up the safe.\n\nThe doctors said he had had a heart attack. Completely natural, and extremely unfortunate. There was nothing they could do. But if this was just some strange cosmic accident… Why was the code set for this exact date?\n\nFor years my fathers safe had enraptured me. Jet black, with marble blue letters engraved at the top. SJR.\n\nStephen J. Richards. \n\nMy father was a humble man. Some people’s parents are a classic example of a rags-to-riches story, but my parents have never known neither rags nor riches. Middle class, through and through. They named me Alex Brian Richards, after my dad’s brother whom I have never met and my mom’s father. Two very respectable people, or so I’m told. While my mom had an unusual hobby of competitive martial arts, my father was pretty bland, except for the safe. Whenever I asked him what was inside, he’d always reply with something stupid, like my baby shoes, or family Christmas cards. \n\nFor all I knew, he was telling the truth. If that was the case it wouldn’t surprise me. But deep down I desperately wanted to hold on to the fantasy that there was something more. Something greater. \n\n\nThere was.\n\nThe safe swung open effortlessly, without even a creak. I fiercely scanned the insides, trying to take everything in at once, but there were only two things inside. A piece of paper, and a jet black safe engraved with marble blue letters.\n\nABR.\n\nThe smaller safe was open but empty. I almost closed it when something on the back of the door caught my eye. \n\nA 5 digit number. \n\nThe passcode to my safe. \n\n8-3-1-1-7.\n\nAugust 31st 2017. \n\nI grabbed the small piece of paper that was next to my safe. In my dad’s familiar, hasty scrawled handwriting, were three single words.\n\nSee you soon.\n" ]	2
	[WP] 10 hours ago you were just a normal person trying to buy a cup of coffee. Now you are the most wanted man/woman of your country.	[ "The footsteps were loud in the dark house. Each one echoed from the walls, nigh endlessly bouncing and rebounding around the empty rooms. No furniture, no carpet or drapes or much of anything to soak any of the sound up. Just bare construction. The shadowy figure stopped near the basement door, then reached for the knob.\n\nUpstairs it had been dim, but down here was dark. A light came on as he descended the stairs, each heel thumping down heavily on the steps. At the bottom he stopped and panned the phone in his hands around, casting the light coming from the screen this way and that. After a moment, he sighed and turned around, stepping aside and walking toward the underside of the stairs he’d just alighted from.\n\n“Brad, it’s me.”\n\n“John?” a fearful voice asked from beneath the stairs. When John angled the phone, its light fell on a disheveled man, crouched down like he was trying to melt into the floor. He flinched from the light, holding up a briefcase in both hands like a shield. “Don’t hurt me!”\n\n“Brad, it’s me,” John said, though he glanced around quickly to make sure they were alone. “Come out of there. It can’t be doing your back any good.”\n\n“Are you with them?”\n\n“Right now, I’m the only friend you’ve got.”\n\n“Did they send you?”\n\n“Brad, come the fuck out of there right now or I’m going to use this phone as more than a flashlight.”\n\nSlowly, Brad shuffle out from beneath the stairs. He straightened with a wince, with a series of pops crackling as his spine unkinked. “How did you find me?” he asked, holding his hand up against the light coming from the phone.\n\n“This was Sarah’s house,” John said, lowering the phone. “You always had a crush on her when we were in high school.”\n\n“I didn’t do it.”\n\n“I know you didn’t.”\n\n“I—wait, how do you know?”\n\n“Jesus Brad, you’re the world’s most mild mannered nobody,” John snorted. “There’s no way the All Points is accurate.”\n\n“Why are they chasing me?”\n\nJohn sighed, scrubbing one hand through his hair. “You want the long version, or the short?”\n\n“Let’s start with the short and go from there.”\n\n“Okay, you picked up the wrong cuppa this morning.”\n\nBrad blinked, then made a small stretching motion with his hands. “Maybe a little less short.”\n\n“The shop was being used as a drop point Brad. To pass classified information. The idiot trainee who was supposed to be working the handoff mixed you up with the real agent, and gave you what he was supposed to get.”\n\n“I don’t have anything,” Brad said desperately. “Look.” He opened his briefcase, displaying a handful of folders and papers, pens and pads, a pack of mints, some paper clips. “Search me. Help me.”\n\n“Did you drink the coffee?”\n\n“What?”\n\nJohn snapped his fingers. “Focus. Did you drink the coffee?”\n\n“Yeah.”\n\n“Shit.”\n\n“Why?”\n\n“There was a nano bug in the coffee. That’s what was being passed.”\n\n“Okay, so, great,” Brad said, sounding hopeful. “If that’s all this is, then I haven’t read anything. I don’t know anything. So you can just take me in, to the feds, and they’ll sort—”\n\n“It’s not that simple.”\n\n“Why not?”\n\nJohn sighed. “If I asked you about Norfolk Station’s nuclear ordinance—”\n\n“Mostly B83-Indias, fitted with variable yield … oh shit,” Brad said before trailing off.\n\n“Yeah, oh shit,” John confirmed with a nod. “The information was assimilated when you drank the coffee. And now you’re a walking encyclopedia for our entire National Defense.”\n\n“This is bullshit,” Brad said immediately. “I’m a good citizen. I pay taxes, keep my nose clean … I’ve never even gotten a speeding ticket John.”\n\n“None of that matters now. I need to bring you in.”\n\n“Before what?”\n\n“Before someone else gets their hands on you.”\n\n“I don’t want to … what’s going to happen if I go with you?”\n\nJohn shrugged uncomfortably. “That hasn’t been decided yet.”\n\n“But if you had to guess?” Brad pressed. His voice was desperate, but his eyes took on a thoughtful cast as he studied the other man.\n\n“Confinement, at least.”\n\n“For how long?”\n\n“The info can’t be extracted Brad. So I can’t really say—”\n\n“I have a life John. You can’t do this to me.”\n\nJohn reached into his suit jacket, reluctantly. When his hand emerged, it was holding a small, slim pistol. With an elongated barrel. “I have to, or I have to use this.”\n\n“I just want to be left alone.”\n\n“Brad, listen. Don’t make me do this buddy. We go back; that’s why I came alone. I found out what was happening, put the pieces together, and right now no one knows I’m here. If I bring you in, I can try to keep a lid on what they want to do. But I don’t have a choice; you have to come with me.”\n\n“Just help me.”\n\n“I am,” John said, still unhappy. “Do you know how many agencies are after your ass?”\n\n“At least seventeen,” Brad said automatically. “Nineteen if you count the NSA counter-intelligence—”\n\n“That’s us. I’m talking about other agencies.”\n\nBrad was silent for a moment. “So Russians, Chinese, North Korea if they have anyone nearby.”\n\n“Plus UK, France, German, Israeli, Iranian … hell, there’s even a Canadian spec-ops team deployed to look for you. Just on the off chance they get lucky. In another twelve hours it’ll be everyone.”\n\n“Most of them are allies.”\n\n“They can still make use of you,” John said, starting to raise the pistol. “Just—”\n\nBrad moved abruptly, stepping forward, reaching. One hand came down on the wrist next to the gun, the other latched onto John’s free arm. His knee was already in motion, rising with surprising speed and accuracy straight into John’s groin. The other man blocked it, but Brad followed the knee strike with a head butt that sent his childhood friend staggering backwards. A simple twist, a spin away, and suddenly he had the gun in his hand and was standing out of reach. Pointing it at John.\n\n“Brad, don’t—”\n\n“How did I do that?” Brad asked, sounding shocked. He kept the gun up though, flexing his hand carefully around it. Keeping his finger on the trigger, almost caressing it.\n\n“You don’t—”\n\n“Tell me!”\n\n“Project Oscar.”\n\nBrad’s eyes flicked inward for an instant, then refocused fully on John. “Goddamnit, implanted ops training?”\n\n“Now do you see the shit you’re in?” John said quickly. “Just give me that back, come with me, I can help—”\n\n“You know exactly what they’re going to do to me,” Brad said quietly. “You’re lying.”\n\n“I don’t—”\n\n“You do.”\n\nJohn had his hands up, defensively. “Okay, I have a strong suspicion, but I said I’m trying to help you, and I meant it. I can talk to my section chief, and he can talk to the Director. There’s a chance I can get them to just confine you. Maybe even enroll you in the Agency. That would—”\n\n“Turn me into you. Forever.”\n\n“It’s that, or option A.”\n\nBrad stared at him for several seconds. John waited. Finally, John shook his head slowly. “Don’t do this. It’s not who you are.”\n\n“I don’t know who I am anymore,” Brad said sadly, and his finger compressed on the trigger. The gun barked very quietly, and spat a single round that took John in the forehead. His head snapped back, and he crumpled to the floor like a switch had been flipped. His phone clattered down next to him.\n\n“And it’s your Goddamn fault,” he whispered. “I liked my old coffee place.”\n\n* * * * \n\nI collect all my flash fic [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/DavesWorld/). If you liked this, the others might be amusing too. Enjoy!", "Funny how much world could change in under a day. It could be blazing hot afternoon one moment and then the snow would descend unannounced, cursing everyone that's prepared for a hot summer day with unbearable cold.\n\nBeing the perfectly reasonable human that I am, I entered my favorite coffee shop after half an hour struggling under the snowfall. Well, people don't usually trudge half an hour under snowfall after tiring summer day just to get coffee, though...\n\n\"Jack, get me the usual...\"\n\n\"Got it.\" The man behind the counter smiled, and why wouldn't he? His small shop was crowded for the first time in centuries. Okay, decades. That snowfall eleven years ago was almost as bad as this one.\n\n\"Strange weather we have here, eh?\"\n\nOh great. I made the classic noob mistakes of sitting beside someone you know you wouldn't like.\n\n\"Yeah, with global warming and all that jazz, I'm actually surprised the weather's only acting up after this long.\" The old man in strange clothes laughed.\n\n\"Funny how you called it global warming when it's clearly chilling outside, eh? I wonder if those climate bigheads actually know how to do their job.\"\n\nIf someone insults my job, I'll smack their head with a satellite dish, but I'm not a climate scientist.\n\n\"It's just one of those things, y'know, the strange night where it started snowin' in midsummer, a sign of new age about to start.\" Great, another crackhead just joined my party!\n\n\"Take your prophecy mumbo jumbo somewhere else, Jenkins. Not all of us cares about Cthulhu.\"\n\n\"Lovecraft is the literature for the enlightened individuals, you dimwit. It's a revelation for futures yet to come, wrapped in multiple layers of metaphors. Well, it's unsurprising for uncultured jerk like you to not understand his word.\"\n\n\"Guys, can you take your arguments somewhere else? I just need my coffee!\" And preferably somewhere to enjoy it quietly, but I could almost hear Apollo and the Three Fates laughing up there in the Olympus. Hey, this guy wanted to enjoy his life! HAHAHA!\n\nI switched my attention to the TV as Jack handed me my double espresso.\n\n\"Strange weather shrouded the entirety of East Asia, moving further south in unprecedented rate. It's predicted that South East Asia would be covered in snow within several days. Suspicions arouse between East Asia nations as they accused each other of possession of atmospheric weapon...\" I sneezed, and a hundred gun muzzles aimed my way.\n\n\"Whoa, guys, I just sneezed.\" I raised my arms, and I took a glance to the now-muted TV.\n\nSuspected Atmospheric Weapon Engineer, Adawarta S. Prapat.* My photo was posted nicely behind my name.\n\n\"So you're the reason behind the freak snow, huh?\" Et tu, Jack? I thought we're best buddies?!\n\n\"I lost my wife because the snow!\" HOW!? But I was wise enough not to open my mouth.\n\n\"Hey hey, no hard feelin' kiddo, but the bounty is just...\" I looked closer to the TV screen.\n\n$1400. They don't even know if I'm really the one that engineered this freak snow and they offered fourteen hundred dollars for catching me, dead or alive.\n\n\"Jack, you know me, I'm an underpaid sat TV engineer, I helped you set up that damn TV for fuck's sake. Why, and how, would I made this storm?\"\n\nI'd be the first to admit that I have my share of shady meth lab involvement, but this scale of thing was larger than any of them would ever afford.\n\n\"That's what the bigheads with black suites would have to discover.\" Jack cocked his shotgun, strangely only old man Jenkins stood up for me.\n\n\"You could get killed.\"\n\n\"Not faster than I already would, young human. Thy art bringer of new age, messenger of the gods to enlighten humanity. Never would I abandon you like humanity had abandoned Prometheus.\"\n\n\"Ah, I see, your sanity is beyond salvation.\"\n\n\"May it be, but I right now is thy only salvation, young magus, fixer of television and protector of child's smiles.\"\n\n\"Shut up.\"\n\n\"Run, magus. I won't hold them for long!\" I ran outside, the old man martyred for me.\n\n**\n\n\"If only I have a girl in my arm, this would be at least bearable...\" I ran through the dark city, snowfall obscured my vision.\n\n\"Don't push your luck, Four. Knowing you I bet it'll be a withering grandma instead.\" A voice filled my ear, coming from a small transceiver.\n\n\"Geh, Boreas One, how is Khione faring?\"\n\n\"Operational at fifteen percent, the storm system supplemented the machine's low output. Friday we could pull full-cap test.\"\n\n\"See ya at base, then.\"\n\n\"About that, Four. You're a liability to the project, now that you've been exposed.\"\n\n\"Really? After all I've done? You gonna cut your brightest engineer like a lizard's tail?\"\n\n\"Boreas project must be done in absolute secrecy. We cannot let your capture led to the discovery of the project.\"\n\n\"You're after me too.\"\n\n\"Correct.\" A helicopter zoomed overhead. I threw my earphone and smashed it on the ground.\n\n\"Well, better make sure I'm captured alive, then.\" The helicopter fired its machinegun.", "That first cappuccino in the morning is the best part of my work day. Being out of the office, across the street, free of mindless morning conversation about everyone's weekend. \n\nMaybe i'll grab a pain au chocolate and eat it slowly while gazing through the coffee shop window daydreaming about the productive things I will assuredly do after work. By 3 o'clock i'll have changed my mind and be thinking about my bed and what sci-fi movie to fall asleep to. How did I fucking get here? I find myself asking that question every single goddamn day but choose to stay in the confines of my office in a safe job contributing to my strategic 401k so that my non-existent kids can attend state colleges and my thought of a wife doesn't have to keep a full-time job. \n\nI look down and I haven't touched my pastry. I've literally been staring through the window at the brick wall across the street for the past 5 minutes. I'm not doing this today. I'm going to do something. I'm not going in there.\n\nI stepped out of the shop and turned left, away from work and just started walking. My mind wasn't racing like I thought it would. I just felt a huge weight off of my shoulders. Pure freedom and sense of adventure. The type of feeling you have between the ages of 18 and 25, when you somehow are certain that you have the power to do anything in the world and get away with it.\n\nMy first thought was to go straight home and laze around the rest of the day and email my resignation letter to my shit head boss. But that was taking the easy way out. I wanted to fucking live! I needed to feel more power. Guns! I needed to go to the gun range. I had never shot a gun before and have always wanted to. What better way to start this adventure than by exercising my god given right as an American...\n\nI searched google and found a range about 10 miles away and hopped in a cab. I didn't want to speak to the cab driver at all. I just wanted to stare out the window and look deep into my own head for the next 15 minutes before I unloaded on a thin silhouette of what i'd like to think of as a disgustingly evil person.\n\nI was overly surprised at how easy it was to be issued a gun and bullets and fire willingly in the back of what felt like some guy's garage. The feeling of the recoil was pretty much exactly as I expected; which was empowering. I fired round after round with a few guns I knew nothing about before retiring to the gun shop to admire all the detailed workmanship of the firearms. The only thought in my head was \"what next?\"\n\nI hailed another cab. This time to my house to grab a few outfits, some cash, and a bottle of sunscreen. The only logical thought that came across my mind on that cab ride was to book a flight somewhere warm and wild. I always wanted to go to Tijuana and experience this Mexican playground for Americans. Booze and drugs just sounded so good at that moment. \n\nA flight purchase on my phone, a cab ride, and an airport beer later I was on a Southwest flight to Tijuana. I had no regrets at that moment. I literally did no have a care in the world of who and what I was leaving behind. I let my mind wander again with the help of a few more plane beers and the white noise coming from the in-cabin air conditioning nozzles over head. I slowly drifted off to a deep stress-free sleep.\n\nI was awoken by a very attractive stewardess asking me to put my chair upright and fasten my seatbelt because we were about to land. I complied and complemented her with a sleepy smile, excited to get off of the aircraft into the tropical weather. A smooth landing and an unorganized exit later I was in the airport searching for a cab driver that wouldn't screw me over. \n\nMy new friend Pedro was driving me to a Hyatt I found on Orbitz so I could relax, order room service and drink until I couldn't talk anymore. Pedro offered me some weed which I graciously accepted. He then willingly accepted my American money and pointed me to the best strip club in town should I wish to partake. My only plan for the night was to veg out so I could pick up the party tomorrow. After all, I should take my new found freedom and relish in it. \n\nI checked in and did exactly as I planned as well as smoked a few bowls out of one of the room service apples. I was right where I wanted to be without a worry in the world and no thought about the days to come. I drifted off into a deep dream-filled sleep.\n\nI awoke around 10am and immediately walked down to the beach to jump in the ocean. It was amazing to think that only about 48 hours earlier I was as depressed and unfulfilled as I was. Now I was calm and free, letting my mind finally decide what it is I was going to do in order to be happy. And the next thing I wanted to do was eat tacos for breakfast. I strolled up to a small restaurant facing the beach and decided to connect to the wifi to write my boss that resignation letter I forgot to write.\n\nAs soon as I connected my phone was barraged with all types of notifications. My missed calls and text messages were in the double digits and my email inbox was well over 100. The first line that caught my eye was \"Work shooting...gunman at large\" What the fuck had happened since I had been gone. I opened up the first email to see my name strewn across the news claimed to be the gunman at large. The day i'd left, someone walked into my office building, opened fire, and killed 7 of my former co-workers. Since I had been uncalled for for a day and a half and was last seen at a gun range I was the most likely suspect.\n\nI was now one of America's most wanted men.\n\n\n", "It began a day just like any other.\n\n\nI got up. I brushed my teeth. I avoided a shower in lieu for a sluts shower. Some wet wipes in my damp spots will do the trick surely? It wasn’t like I was meeting the Queen?\n\n\n\nActually wait.\n\n\n\nI was.\n\n\n\nStill, Prince Phil probably smells worse than I do. Morning wank and two cups of coffee is a delight I’m sure. I still can’t wrap my head around the whole day’s events. I mean it started at least 6 months ago. Order of the Knight of the Realm the letter said. Services to archaeology. I kept telling myself it wasn’t that big of a deal. But finding the body of King Arthur, complete with Excalibur is, I guess, as far as archaeology goes, like finding a map to El Dorado. But I digress. Like I said it began like any other day. Wank, shower, shit, shave, brush hair, although this time instead of putting on some slacks and a loose fitting shirt I had a three piece suit with tails. It was tight. I knew I had put on weight. But it was too late now, in the black car I jumped. A big man called Igor with frankly terrible conversational skills led me to the place. A short… I want to say talk, but it was more a lecture, like a schoolboy being told off for not doing his homework, on how to talk to the Queen. Mam like ham, not to speak unless you are spoken to, ect ect, I’m sure she gets bored of it. I wonder if she ever wanted to just kick it with a beer? Probably not. \n\n\n\nBefore long however I found myself at the after part. Ah that’s what they don’t tell you. Its not just a poke on the shoulder and suddenly you have a medal. You get a big fancy party slash get together with all the new sir’s and dames. Queenie is there. Phil too.\n\n\nThat’s where it all went wrong. \n\n\nPhil decided we should all be re-knighted. With Excalibur. Magical sword and what not. Turns out the stories about pulling the sword makes you king are true. Although sadly no one told the Sword that killing the current monarch doesn’t make you king. The damn thing jump from her Maj’ hand into mine and off went her head. Phil’s too. Then Ermineas, Smithson’s, Jeremiahs, hell everyone knighted that day the sword went for. \n\n\nEveryone except me. I pulled it from the ground. In its mind I was the true king.\nThat was three days ago. Three days of hiding in sewers. Every time we were nearly found the sword glowed blue and lunged for the office unfortunate enough to find it. \n\n\nIn the Swords mind. I was king. And nothing would stop it from killing anyone that got in my…its…our way. \n\n\nGod help me. God save the King.\n\n\n\nfirst time doing these. 500 words. Ish.", "A pop in the eyes flash and then everything was frozen black and white. No sound, no movement, no color. I turned and she was standing in a white sphere about a meter behind me. Thin AF, blond hair straggles framing her flat white face, big eyes wide, mouth open like she was trying to catch here breath.\n\n\"He's going to kill everyone. Everyone!\" She half screamed it at me.\n\n\"What?\" It felt like I was speaking in a dream.\n\n\"He's going to kill everyone. He breaks the planet in half. Everyone dies!\"\n\n\"What?\" It was all I could say.\n\n\"You are the only time line that works. We've tried the other possibles. You. Everything depends on you\". Her eyes were like looking into the soul of fear. Intense. Like a black sun.\n\n\"Take this\" she said handing me a small round ball. It was heavier than it looked and felt warm. It looked like glass and was about the size of one of those high bounce balls all kids play with at one point. It seemed like something was moving in it.\n\n\"Put it in your coffee and put the cup on the trashcan out side. Street side\"\n\nI stood with my mouth half open wondering WTF was happening. Am I having a psychotic break?\n\n\"Move! For fuck's sake do it now. We don't have any time left!\n\nThere was a sound like \"zzst\" and then another. \"Run!\" She screamed it but didn't seem to be looking at me. She turned to me with an unspoken plea and her body glowed and then dissolved. I heard a male voice yell \"Don't lose the connection\" and then the white sphere collapsed to a point like on the old TVs, blinked out, and the coffee joint sounds, smells, and people were just like they were before. \n\nSame Lucky Bros coffee joint. Same 20 something behind the counter. Same cup in my hand. \n\n\"Can I get you anything else, sir?\" I could see in her expression that I was weirding her out. The shuffling and muttering behind me informed me I should deal with my self somewhere \"not in line\".\n\n\"Uh, I'm good thank you. Hey, did you notice anything strange just now?\"\n\nThe young woman looked at me and pulled back the sides of her face and furrowed her eyebrows suggesting I was the \"strange thing\". The woman behind me muttered \"For fuck's sake freak\".\n\nI nodded, stepped out of line and walked to the door. Just as I had done every weekday for the past five years. Five years in this small town and nothing, NOTHING, had ever happened that vaguely suggested this morning. I came to the small manufacturing firm to help design and prototype neural links for remote control excavators. Mining. I work with mining tools for fuck's sake!\n\nI stepped out on the sidewalk. It was packed back to the door, lined on either side with people hoping to get a glimpse of their newly elected to his second term president. SMACK! It hit me like a bat to the face what this was all about. He was taking a victory lap through the little towns that had secured his second win. A drive by wave from the car thing. They had all turned out to see him.\n\nThe trash can right outside the coffee shop was where it always had been. I'm sure it had been swept as part of the route inspection but the president was going to pass by in minutes. They wouldn't have time to anticipate anything.\n\nI popped the lid and held the glass ball over the black brown liquid. Definitely something swirling inside. Liquid fate.\n\nI dropped the ball into the cup and put the cup on the rim of the can street side. I continued on my walk to work. Just one block down, take a left, walk three blocks and the entrance to the old aircraft hangar where we made our machines waited as it had for the past five years.\n\nI didn't hate or like the guy. I was in tech. Most of what the country experienced was remote from me. I had a job in an industry that always needed people with my skills. Play your little political games. I've got real work to do.\n\nStill, breaking the planet in half and killing everyone was a problem. Guess I just wanted to keep being employed. And all the other stuff as well. \n\nThe pictures and video showed his black hover limo gliding down the street with the bullet/blast proof glass top reflecting the sun as he waved at people. Big smile. Dark suit. The iconic mane of yellow hair. Bigger than life. Something about the eyes though. Something.\n\nWhen you looked at the video after you first see it you try to see an explosion. It's not like that. Not at all. One second the limo and the chase cars are there and then next a pulse wave of black and white static inflates from in front of the coffee house to about two stories tall and then in a blink limo, chase cars, 3 meters of street, a light pole are just gone. People in the videos are just standing on the sidewalks with puzzled expressions. The only thing to see is a black glass like glaze where the missing things were. If you listen you can hear a kind of hum in the videos. One second there, the next just black glass and confusion.\n\nI know they'll be looking for me. Hell, there is a camera on nearly every street corner here. They'll trace the footage, see me place the cup and watch me walk around the corner. I probably have a few hours at most. Maybe not even that.\n\nThe moment people ran by the door I knew what happened. I grabbed my keys and hit the door while everyone else was still confused. I figure I can make it to the hills if I'm lucky. Very lucky.\n\nWell, I guess that makes me the most wanted man in the country right now. Didn't see that coming when I stopped for coffee this morning. Nope. Not even a little.\n\nStill, I'd probably do it again. I mean, well, I really like the Earth and people should be able to live their lives I guess. Seems like some asshole shouldn't be able to kill everyone just \"because reason X\". Also, I really like my job. Maybe I'll get lucky and disappear. Maybe.\n\nStranger things have happened. They sure have.", "I slapped the $5 bill down on the counter. The cashier gazed at me in disbelief, her mouth agape. Everyone else in the cafe had stopped what they were doing and stared.\n\n\"What?\" I said, looking around.\n\n\"It was a joke, man,\" the cashier said. \"Why would you order that?\"\n\nA news van screeched to a halt out front. The crew ran in, all gear in hand. I was bombarded with questions. The cashier was bawling her eyes out. Everyone in the cafe was yelling obscenities at me.\n\nWhat the hell?\n\nA few minutes later the cops arrived. Thank God. These morons had formed an impenetrable circle around me. I was stuck. \n\nThe officers broke through the crowd.\n\n\"This the guy?\" He thumbs at me. The cashier nods, a tissue at her face.\n\n\"Alright asshole, turn around.\"\n\n\"What? Officer, what is going on?\"\n\n\"Are you resisting? Hey John-O, this guy resisting?\"\n\n\"Looks like it to me, Bob.\"\n\nI always wondered what a blow to the head with a billy club felt like. Hell, I didn't know the police still carried clubs. Seems archaic. If you were wondering, it hurt like hell. Last thing I remember before blacking out was the smell of bleach on the floor.\n\n. . . . . .\n\nI came to in a dimly lit room. The room was illuminated by a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. There was a stainless steel table in front of me. No windows. No sound. You would've thought a room like this only existed on TV or in movies.\n\nWhat is going on? Am I in a trope? Really?\n\nAs my eyes adjusted, I noticed a woman sitting across the table from me. She was focused on a pad in her lap. She glanced at me above her reading glasses. She wore a look of distrust, even hatred. \n\n\"Jonathan Grant Meyers,\" there was spite in her voice.\n\n\"That's me,\" I said, trying to maintain a bit of humor over this clear mistake. \"I think there's been a mistake.\"\n\n\"A mistake?\"\n\nI nodded.\n\n\"Please, sir, tell me all about this mistake.\"\n\nThat seemed sarcastic.\n\n\"Well, I was just minding my own business--\"\n\n\"Minding your own business, sure.\"\n\nHer eyes pierced my soul. She was mean.\n\n\"Yes, I was just buying a drink when--\"\n\n\"Buying a drink, uh-huh,\" she made a note on her pad. \"Go on.\"\n\nI was beginning to get annoyed.\n\n\"Well, then the whole cafe started accosting me. It was like a mob.\"\n\n\"Accosted you?\" She shot up from her chair and the thing flew back, crashing into the wall. \"And what about that poor girl? Did you ever consider her feelings?\"\nThe door slammed open and a couple officers came to pull her out as she continued shouting at me. They took her into the hall and disappeared.\n\n\"What in the hell is going on?\"\n\n\"I'll tell you what's going on.\"\n\nIn struts what I can only guess is the hot shot, plays-by-his-own-rules, always-one-fast-move-from-being-suspended-from-the-force maverick detective, leather jacket in the middle of July and all. He cooly picks the chair up and sits in it, a smug look on his face. This must be a joke. Or a dream. Or am I on TV and didn't realize?\n\n\"So you're the guy, huh?\"\n\n\"I'm the guy,\" I play along. I have nothing to lose at this point. I'm either asleep and safe, or really screwed.\n\n\"You know, we have a name for guys like you.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah? What's that?\"\n\n\"You son of a bitch. You don't have any remorse, do you?\"\n\n\"I have no idea why I'm here.\"\n\n\"You ever hear of contract law, Mr. Meyers?\"\n\n\"I've heard of it. I have no idea what it has to do with my current situation.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'll tell you. Because you're current situation ain't looking too shiny.\"\n\nHe lights a cigarette. He offers me one. I refuse. This must be a joke. I've never met a walking cliche before now. So in a way, I'm grateful for whatever confusion has led to this.\n\n\"Jon--can I call you Jon? Jon, do you know what 'fine print' is?\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\nIs he waiting for me to explain, or...\n\n\"Well Jon, do you realize that there was fine print on the advertising for the drink you ordered?\"\n\n\"Fine print? What? What was it, order this drink and get arrested?\"\n\nThe detective laughs. He rubs his eyebrow with his thumb.\n\n\"Heh, no. That'd be a pretty great prank though, wouldn't it?\"\n\nHe waits for my approval.\n\n\"Anyway, Jon, I came to two conclusions: number one, you knew about the fine print all along, and you just didn't care. Your callousness has caused pain and suffering to many others, and I will see that you are prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Or number two, you didn't read the fine print, and are going about causing pain and suffering because of your stupidity, in which case I'm obligated under the president's \"No Dummies\" executive order to have you executed by firing squad. What do you think about that?\"\n\nI was speechless. What in the actual fuck is going on? \n\n\"I have no idea what you're talking about. I demand to speak to my lawyer. Right now.\"\n\n\"Lawyers are for wimps,\" he said, and slid a piece of paper across the table.\n\nI read the note:\n\n\"The Starbucks Unicorn Frappuccino is a promotional gag. It should not actually be ordered. Each Starbucks Unicorn Frappuccino is blended with the blood of a baby unicorn, along with two shots of Starbucks espresso, sugar, and sparkles. As such, each Starbucks Unicorn Frappuccino requires the death of a baby unicorn. Our baristas are required by corporate procedure to fill any drink or food order or face reprimanding. Please do not order this drink under any circumstance. Do not subject our employees to the murder of a baby unicorn.\"\n\nMy jaw dropped.\n\n\"Is this--\"\n\n\"Yeah, it's for real. Are you ready?\"\n\nI couldn't believe it. I nodded.\n\n\"I'm ready.\"\n\nIt seemed the entire prison followed us down the hall and out of the building. The press was outside waiting. They erupted with flashes and questions and \"Mr. Meyers\"'s as we filed past. I kept my head low. I was a monster.\n\nWe walked to a place under an old oak tree that looked out on a great expanse of hills. The hills crashed against the looming mountain range beyond, smokey blue in the distance. The sun was beginning to set over those mountains. The sky was simmering orange and red stream. I looked up a lone cloud riding across the sky. \n\nO, to be that cloud and be whisked away in the wind.\n\nThe detective turned toward me and lowered his Ray Bans.\n\n\"Any last words?\" He said cooly.\n\nI lowered my head.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" I said.\n\nHe turned me around and then walked off beyond the line of National Guardsmen who held their rifles at rest. I took one last look at the mountains and wished I could turn back time. I would do it over again. I wouldn't ask for the stupid Starbucks Unicorn Frappuccino. Such a dumb drink. What a stupid advertisement. Maybe I am* ready to leave this world after all. At least I wouldn't have to suffer advertising--\n\nThe shot rang out. I missed the signal. My own execution. Botched that up too.\n\n. . . . . .\n\n\"...sir? Sir? Hello? Just the Unicorn Frappuccino? Anything else?\"\n\n\"Huh? Oh, no. Nothing. No thanks.\"\n\nI ran out of the store.", "It’s probably not an appropriate time to bring this up, but in a way I’m impressed with myself. I mean, Osama bin Laden and El Chapo took a whole lot longer than I did to get here. Let’s be clear: I am not endorsing what I’ve done. I just mean, it is fascinating, isn’t it?\n\nI can’t go back to my apartment on account of the helicopters, so I’d really like to stay in yours. I know we were never close, but I figure they’re less likely to search the place of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend. No offense. \n\nThe woman grasping the glock pointed at him with shaking hands could do nothing but stare at him, slack-jawed and fearful\n\nOkay… how about I tell you what happened? Would that help? I’m really not the bad guy here! But I need you to move out of the doorway if you want me to stay that way. \n\nShe moved, suddenly even more afraid. He easily pulled her cellphone from her pocket and found himself a spot on the living room couch\n\nDon’t want you using this for anything stupid, do we? You don’t have a landline, do you? Good. I don’t think you’re lying, I mean, who has a landline now anyway? You mind making some coffee? My god, I had the worst experience at this shop last night. That’s where it all started. \n\nSo it’s this real rustic looking shop. All the seats are like tree stumps and all the lights look like they were pulled out of 1910. Very nice atmosphere. I order coffee. I get decaf, since it’s late and I’m trying to get over my caffine addiction. The girl who’s serving me looks about twelve, so when she gives me caffeinated, I don’t want to tell her she fucked up. I just sigh and decide to drink it. But I’m a passive aggressive son of a bitch, so I’m muttering about it the whole time I drink. Then this guy comes up to me.\n\n“She fucked up your order man?” The man looked like he was thirty something but aged eighty years in that time. A scar peaked out of the top of his shirt. Open-heart surgery? Gang initiation? Jumped in the way to save someone else’s life? I decide to assume that last one. I’ve always given people the benefit of the doubt. So I figure, yeah, I’ll commiserate with this hero of a stranger. Get this; the owner of the shop is his ex-wife. Took his kids and completely bankrupt him. All because what, he sold drugs? I don’t know much about illegal stuff, but it sounds like this man was running a thriving young business to me. Then he asks for my help. \n\nWell at this point I’m wide-awake since my coffee was full of caffeine, and I don’t have any plans. So, sure, I agree to help this upstanding citizen. So we go to his ex-wife’s house. He says he’ll distract the babysitter, and since I’m wearing a suit I’ll look more trustworthy to his kids. So sure, we go. I get the kids in the car, tell them how much their dad misses them and they’re so happy. I think I had a miscommunication with their dad, because he’s distracting the baby sitter way longer than he needs to. Then he comes back and we get going. The kids are ecstatic; everything is great.\n\nThat’s where the kidnapping charge came from. Simple misunderstanding, you see? All of this is just a series of misunderstandings. I can explain the quadruple murder charge and how I started a drug trafficking ring just as easily.\n\nNote: Let me know if I should keep going! Figured it was already a bit lengthy :)\n", "TOP REDDIT POST OF THE DAY - TIFU by ordering coffee and becoming the most wanted man in my country.\n\nOkay, so first up I'd like to say that none of this was technically my fault. I mean, I could've done a lot more, but none of it was my fault. There were quite a few FUs along the way, but it shouldn't have ended up quite this badly.\n\nOkay, so this is a wild ride. Get ready for some crazy stuff.\n\nThe day started out like any other. I was on my way to work, and I stopped by the Starbucks on the way to pick up a Caramel Machiatto. Just as I was about to be at the front of the line and order my coffee, the man at the register ordering his coffee pulled out a gun and placed it on the head of the cashier. He threatened him, and said to give him everything in the register and he might live to see the next day. The cashier started to shake, and reached into the register to grab the money.\n\nThis is the first fuckup of the day. I realized that, with his gun on the cashier, he was distracted and had no other way to defend himself. I reached for my thermos, and in one swift motion I slammed him on the head with it. A loud crack resonated through the store, and he fell to the ground. I grabbed the gun out of his hands, and held it above my head.\n\nAs he fell, his hood fell off of his face, stained with blood. Looking down at his head, I recognized the face of Brad Pitt. What the hell was he doing robbing a convenience store?\n\nA loud voice resonated through the store, yelling the word \"CUT!\" A director walked out of the back room and said, \"What the hell are you doing here?\"\n\nIt was at that moment that I remembered that a movie was going to be shot in my town on petty crime. Why the hell hadn't they closed down the Starbucks? Actually, wait. Was that why there was caution tape outside? Dammit, I knew I should've asked about that.\n\nI was innocent, but scared out of my fucking mind. I gathered my bags and ran out of the Starbucks, fleeing the enraged director. As I ran down the street, I realized that the bag in my hand was way too heavy. I looked down, and realized that it wasn't my bag! I lay it down, and kept running. That was the second fuckup.\n\nTurns out they were keeping a lot of the props for the movie in that Starbucks. How the hell would I know that the bag had a fake bomb in it? I heard screams as I continued to run, but thought nothing of it. After reading the news later today, I realized that I should've checked what was in the bag before dropping it.\n\nAs I kept running, I failed to notice that the crosswalk light was, in fact, red. As I shot across the street, a car slammed on its brakes to prevent hitting me, and was rear-ended on the spot. As I watched in horror, a 30-car pileup began forming in New York City. Yup, that one was my fault too, apparently.\n\nI continued down the street. The director and actors, an angry mob who thought they were being bombed, and some angry drivers were running after me. I needed to get away. I ducked into the nearest building, and started running.\n\nPolice and angry mobs started flooding into all possible doors. Panicking, I started running up any staircase I could find, pushing past guards. After a few floors, I ducked into the elevator, and went to the top floor.\n\nWhen it opened, I saw a very pretty lady hugging her son, immediately followed by a security guard tazing me. My last thought before being dragged into the elevator was how familiar they looked.\n\nI eventually found out why they looked so familiar. Turns out, the building I had rushed into was Trump Tower.\n\nI had just burst into the suite of Melania Trump and her son toting a bloody Thermos and a prop gun I was still carrying from beating up Brad Pitt.\n\nTL;DR: Beat the crap out of Brad Pitt by accident, after a long and unintentional crime spree ended up accidentally compromising the safety of the First Lady.\n\nSomeone better give me gold for this.\n\n*****\n\nr/HardBoiledStories", "I still can't decide whether what occurred today was a scientist's wet dream in that it proved the butterfly effect does, indeed, exist or that it was merely a product of acute idiocy resulting in a clusterfuck of incomprehensible proportions. \n\nAllow me to trace back a bit. Picture me, an average, innocuous guy - likely a side character in his own life story - queuing up at Starbucks for a coffee. Now as fate would have it, concurrent to this and halfway across the country, the President was deliberating with his cabinet over wether or not to declare war. The only thing stopping the President was a supposed mole in his cabinet, and the meeting was merely a farce to force them out of hiding. \n\nAnd how do I fit into this? Well, really, I don't. Not unless you delve a little deeper. See, in spite of myself, I am a man with quite acquired tastes. I like my coffee as a flat white espresso, with extra cream and exactly two sugars. As they were preparing my order, the server realised they had no sugar left and so left the premises to go get some from the storage room. Me, not realising that the order had been messed up and in a bit of a hurry to watch Game of Thrones, snatched the cup and left the money on the table, heading outside whilst slurping my oddly bitter order. \n\nAt that moment, we have to go back to the President. Having not forced the rat out of his cabinet, the President was now going on a walk to clear his addled mind. He abandoned his suit for a jogging outfit, and began to walk. Once more, by some cruel twist of fate, he just so happened to be jogging down the road I was walking on. \n\nNow, despite what you may think, my first thought as he jogged towards me wasn't: 'Hey, that's the fucking President, why aren't you doing your job asshole?' but was, rather, more along the lines of, 'Shit, this coffee is really bitter.' The employee had by this time returned with my sugar and had sprinted out of the establishment after me. She was employee of the month and she'd be damned if she didn't maintain standards. God bless her soul, she began shouting my name as she approached me but, being Starbuck's, she got it inconceivably wrong and, so, I did't turn my head to acknowledge her. \n\nAs the woman ran, frantically shouting a horrible rendition of my name, and the President of the United States of America, his head preoccupied by doubt and stress, drew closer to me, the woman tripped in her haste and fell into my back, pressing her hands on them for support.\n\nWhat transpired next was the event that changed my life. \n\nI tipped forward suddenly and, because my coffee had its cap off, my hot, bitter flat white spilt all over the jogging outfit of the President of the United States. I stood dumbfounded for a minute, my eyes fixed on him as I instantly recognised his face. The employee sheepishly held the sugar packet up to hand to me, but I carefully shied it away from her. I was too mortified to do anything other than look at the coffee covered President. \n\nThen, like a flash of thunder, a sniper shot blasted through the air and something whizzed past my head, embedding itself onto the ground below me. The employee screamed and ran. I stood frozen, transfixed on the bullet that'd been a soft wind away from taking my life. \n\nThe President looked at me with hateful eyes. Somehow I was linked to this attempt on his life. \n\n\"Wait, wait I can explain this, Sir. See, I like my coffee sweet...\" \n\nBefore I could finish my justification guards burst from the bushes around me, one leaping atop the President and shielding his body from further shots. Another two wrapped around me, one kicking the back of my knee to force me onto the ground whilst the other handcuffed me before slamming my face down. The taste of dirt in my mouth mixed with bad coffee was not an appetising one.\n\nI felt a cold barrel press to my temple as the President was escorted away by the remaining body guard, quickly whisked into a limousine in the same way a parent would put a baby into a pram. I heard the engines start as they proceeded to drive off, leaving me behind with the two burly men.\n\n\"Tell us what you know,\" a gruff, brutal voice yelled in my ear. \n\nMy body began to shiver uncontrollably as I felt the bones in my arm begin to crack, tears slowly forming on my eyes as I realised that my life would likely never recover again after this incident. \n\n\"Tell us what you fucking know or I swear to god I'll blast your goddamn brains out!\" He repeated, louder this time. Like a gun going off in my ear. At this rate, one probably would. \n\n\"I... I..\" I began to stammer out some petty excuse, my eyes tightly closing as I thoroughly prepared for death but, just then, two more resounding shots reverberated throughout the area. I heard the sound of two bodies collapsing, and slowly I eased my head up, cracking my eyes open a tad. \n\nBoth bodyguards laid dead before me, with a bullet hole through each of their heads, blood seeping out of their wounds and mingling in a single puddle below them. They looked peaceful in death, even in spite of how loudly they were screaming in my ear a minute ago. \n\nI slowly rose, my hands still cuffed. My eyes were transfixed on the two corpses before me. \n\nSince then, I've been on the run. I managed to get a locksmith nearby to take the cuffs off without much question asked, leaving him the entirety of my wallet for his silence. I'm currently fleeing the country, and have adopted a disguise and fake name for my plan to move to Mexico. \n\nHopefully I shall be safe there. \n\n\n-------------\n\n\n/r/coffeeandwriting for more!" ]	9
Damnit. FBI.	[WP] You've written a dozen murder mystery novels, each more gruesome than the last. Today, you're visited by the FIB and discover a serial killer is reenacting your novels. Currently they are on victim number 6. The victim in murder number 12 is a writer and you're scared you might be the target.	[ "It had been thirteen years since Desmond put his nautical life behind him and ventured into the literary world. His vivid memories of his capsize on July 23, 2004 still haunted him but provided him with inordinate inspiration. Legs suspended over the water, he leaned back onto the dock to stretch. He took a taste of his coffee and grimaced from the amount of sugar that Diana had put in it. She was sitting about one hundred feet back on the cabin porch reading a book with her tea. She looked up and gazed out onto the dock but he made sure not to facially reveal his sentiments about the terrible brew; in truth, it's one of quirks he came to love about her.\n\nDesmond's attention was quickly diverted when his eyes peered down at the morning paper and saw the article. There it was on the front page in bold: 'Murder Mystery Menace Strikes Again'.\n\nHe had been on edge for a few days since being unexpectedly visited by two black-suited, shifty FBI members. They had informed him that there was an administrative issue at Mercy Mental Health Institute, the notorious psychiatric hospital in a nearby town. The incident allowed for the release of Leo Bernardo, a deranged psychiatric patient-turned serial killer who had grown quite fond of Desmond's writing while admitted and who was now reenacting his novels in chronological order. Diana invited the men in for coffee but they respectfully refused, shook Desmond's clammy hand, and took off in a hurry. Desmond leaned against the threshold of his front door in awe as the Crown Victoria sped away and out of sight. Nevertheless, he was skeptical of the sketchy men and chose to continue on with his day.\n\nAmidst the gruesome components of the article, details arose about Leo’s most recent victim. Joan Simms – a 38 year old malpractice lawyer. What Desmond found odd was the similarities between the victim and the 40 year old protagonist of his sixth novel ‘Lady and the Law’ who worked as a corporate lawyer. His hawk-like eyes skimmed through the rest of the crinkled page when suddenly his heart stopped. There it was – the eerie realization that he had unconsciously hoped not be true. Joan and his protagonist had both died in the exact same fashion – bludgeoned by a gavel.\n\nA flash of heat overcame him. What the FBI had told him was apparently true. Desmond reread the now sweat-soaked article and was in complete disbelief.\n\nCould it be true?\n\nCould a serial killer reenact his novels?\n\nThe unfortunate truth is that Leo was an admitted psychiatric patient who was deranged. His actions, as morbid as they may be, were not guided by logic and proper judgment.\n\nDesmond grabbed a pen and paper and flew up his carpeted staircase to his study. His job was simple – determine who the other potential victims would be in order to prevent their deaths. First, there was Bill Lee, the high school teacher who was significantly overeducated for his employment. There was the double murder of James and Lucy Turner, co-owners of a mom n’ pop breakfast restaurant outside of town. There was also […] – his pen came to a halt when he remembered that his newest novel ‘Outside the Lines’ was set to hit the shelves in two weeks’ time. He was now realizing his fault of choosing to write himself into his own work in his 12th and newest novel, the story a sailor turned-writer who is unexpectedly murdered by an escaped psychopath.\n\nPanicking, Desmond called his publisher to explain the situation and demand that the novel not be released. The stern voice on the phone failed to reason with him given that he had signed a contract assuring that a completed novel be released on that date.\n\nDesmond had an epiphany. He could provide the publishing house with a revised novel where he is not the main character. He called down to Diana, asking her to give him privacy. He locked the big, wooden doors of his study and begun working on the revised draft entitled ‘The Rise and Fall of Ted Smith, CA’." ]	1
	[WP]You're alone in a forest with a camera. As you are walking you accidentally turn on thermal mode, and you can see the heat profiles of hundreds of people surrounding you.	[ "Clutching the camera in both hands, I scanned the perimeter around me holding the screen close to my face as a guide. The digital window into this unseen world was overflowing with heavily saturated blobs of human figures, some warmer than others but all filled with a topographical gradient of red, yellow, blue, and green. I cradled the camera in my arm as I closed my eyes for a moment before opening them again. Unsurprisingly, nothing changed. \n\nThere were no indicators in my naked field of vision of where these figures resided. No rustling of tree branches, no leaves crunching, no difference in the environment at all until the thermal view unveiled their existence. I opened the portal again by bringing the camera up to eye level to inspect further. There was nothing to be scared of, no threats to be seen. My heart was not pounding, and my lungs continued to passively exchange the damp forest air with my own. The figures continued to slowly shuffle through the foot-trodden path in the woods. Regardless of the direction their bodies were moving, all seemed to stare in the same direction as I was heading. \n\nContinuing on, I kept the camera pointed ahead to use their fixed gaze as a compass. What were they staring at? After a few minutes of a steady pace, the muscles in my legs began to cramp, beads of sweat forming along my forehead. It wasn't warm out, I should not be this exhausted. I kept moving forward. One of the figures beckoned to me from inside the viewfinder. They waved their arm as a motion to quicken my pace, and I complied. \n\nThe air started to feel heavy, a moist blanket weighing down my limbs. My scalp was dripping, but my mouth was dry. What was happening?\n\nI needed to rest. The colorful blobs near the tree to my right parted the way as I turned to face it. The camera fell out of my hands as my fingers stiffened, bouncing on the wet leaves and landing safely with the screen still on. \n\nThe bark felt spectacular against my weary back as I propped myself up against the wide trunk. I pulled my left leg next to my right and stretched them out in front of me, wiping away the moisture from the camera screen before setting it on my lap. I could see the legs and feet of the others still shuffling along the forest, but my own extremities remained unregistered. I would have found it strange, if I wasn't too tired to care.\n\nWith every blink, the effort to open my eyelids increased. The figures on the screen that were closest to me turned to face where I was sitting as they dropped to their knees and bowed their heads in my direction. Rest was needed. Rest was now. " ]	1
	[WP] You have recently been hired to help a small family owned business prepare for an IRS audit. So far only one thing stands out, a young man named Dave has been on the payroll for a very long time.	[ "\"Everything lines up Mrs. Hitchens. However, might I ask about this one employee?\" I pointed to a singular name on the short list of names.\n\"Which one dear, were all family he-\" She saw who my attention had been drawn to, and immediately became firm. \"He's a handyman.\" She affirmed sternly.\n\"Ma'am, if everything you've given me is correct, this Mr. Dave is not only making more than you and Mr. Hitchens combined, but he's been here longer than here was here. This doesn't look go-\"\n\"He's a Handyman. You asked, I answered.\" In the two hours I had spent with this older lady, she had proved to be one of the nicest people I've ever met. The mention of Dave, whoever he was served to change that right quick.\n\"I'm sorry, I just need to know for the sake of the audit.\" I calmly stated.\n\"Mr. Leonard,\" she said to me, \"putting the matter of Mr. Dave's services aside, is there anything else out of place?\" Her wording and tone unnerved me, I assured here everything else was in order. \"Then you are dismissed, my husband will see to your payment.\" Immediately her 22 year old son made it clear it was time to leave.\nIt was odd, the drive back home, I couldn't shake the feeling I was being followed. It was around 9 at night now, considering I had to wrap things up at the firm. And I wasn't wrong about being followed. This blue Civic behind me was driving a few cars back but, over the last 10 minutes, took every turn I did. I supposed crazier things had happened than somebody needing the same turns as me, so I still hopped out of my car in front of my house. And so did the Civic. I immediately make a move for my house, I never the Remington would need to be used. Just as I'm about to unlock my door, I hear a familiar voice.\n\"Leonard!\" It was Mr. Hitchens, thank the Lord above. \"I realized I lost your number and tried to get you on the street a few times. Here's that payment.\" He looked... Off. A little worried.\n\"Thank you, Mr. Hitchens.\" I too the envelope and held it to my chest as I opened it to keep the loot concealed. All I saw though was a bright red dot. Mr. Hitchens turned around, tears pouring down his face.\n\"I'm sorry,\" he blubbered, \"Dave doesn't like loose ends.\" I realized the red dot, wasn't coming from inside the envelope, but was entering it through the side. A laser, coming from the back of Mr. Hitchen's c-" ]	1
	[WP] A child finds a chest and begins to play with the toys inside. Unbeknownst to them, the chest belongs to a voodoo priestess.	[ "Oh, don’t be afraid! That’s just Jack. Really! It’s ok! \n…Oh. Well, yes, technically he’s a demonic being of the nightmare realm wherein dwells Satan and his vengeful hosts, but Jack is really very nice once you get to know him. And he makes splendid blackberry scones. I’ve tried to teach him to make dinner foods, but he does tend to confuse ‘barbecue’ with ‘burnt offering’… We do all have our little quirks, don’t we?\n\nWhy, he’s been with me my whole life, really. I was just a child when he came. Oh, Dearie, I suppose I invited him, in a way. I’m sure you’ve been heard the rumors of my great-aunt Gertrude, Gertrude Marshall, one of the Willowside Marshalls, you know. Such a lovely family- a cut above us, of course- my mother married above her station. Poor Mother, she did worry so that the Marshall’s the Vinson’s looked down on her for that. She always so anxious I be on my best behavior when we’d visit. They had that beautiful house, and the china was real fine. It was supposed to come to me, but that Ava woman- the one who married Cousin’s David’s man servant- well, \n\nI apologize, I was telling you about Jack. Anyway, Auntie - that’s what I always called her- she was said to be a bit of a witch, and I was a pet of hers. I have a mole on my neck, see there? That’s supposed to be a witches mark, so maybe she planned to teach me- I don’t know. Anyway, Auntie was considerably well off, and no husband or children to leave the money to! Mother was ambitious for me and sent me to see Auntie frequently with flowers or jams. And I was a helping hand for Auntie, getting her this and that for what she called her “stews.” Now, of course, I suspect these were really spells and curses. She was very well known for a curse that would make one’s bread mold. She was also said to have made Mr. Hanson’s you-know-what stop working, but I don’t know about that. \n\nAnyway. Auntie had this lovely wooden chest that I was absolutely forbidden from touching. Well, Dearie, you know how it is! It was simply the only thing I wanted to touch! And one day when Auntie was in her garden I abandoned the cake I was mixing, ran to the chest and started digging through it! I’d never seen the like- shiny rocks, and a mirror that was black, and vials, and powders. My word! And finally I took hold of a little box with a door, that in my innocence I took for a dollhouse of sorts. But can you imagine? Something knocked from the other side of the door! From inside the box! \n\nI was a polite child. When I heard something knocking, I hurriedly answered, “Come in!” And out rushed Jack! Of course, he wasn’t called that then. He had some unpronounceable name, and I had to change it. Auntie was furious, but I had let him in and we couldn’t find a way to send him back to hell from whence he came. Auntie’s a sensible woman though, and made the best of it. He’s learned to be a help about the house. But he’s been here ever since. We’re used to him and do I forget he sometimes scares new people. \n\nWell, Dearie, there you are! Do have another scone, won’t you?\n\nedit: typos" ]	1
	[WP] The superhero's power is telling Dad Jokes.	[ "\"Well hiya guys, when is the wedding happening?\"\n\nThe two robbers whipped around, scattering rings and other jewelry off the smashed countertop. Surprise was painted all across their faces. I could tell they were confused, but really, what could they expect trying to sneak in this late when I had just gone to bed two blocks down. Every dad knows when his kids try to sneak in late.\n\n\"I just want to know what went wrong in your upbringing. How did you think that this was the best idea?\"\n\nThe one on the left snarled. He was a little bigger than the other guy. Grunt had a hammer on him that I supposed they broke the counter's glass with. Smalls pulled a knife and started advancing towards me, as Grunt circled towards my other side.\n\n\"You guys don't make me do this, its going to hurt me a lot more than it hurts you.\"\n\nThey kept advancing. I sighed,\n\n\"Well I didn't want to do this, but you forced my... HAND\"\n\nI held up my right hand, trying to make it look as threatening as possible.\n\nIt was not very threatening; and Grunt took a swing at me while Smalls tried to quickly circle all the way behind me. I ducked the swing and used the hand to grab Grunt's face.\n\n\"Oh no! The Hand!! its got you!\"\n\nSmalls tried to take a stab at me. As if I didn't have eyes in the back of my head for these kinds of shenanigans. I easily sidestepped, pulling Grunt along too, and used my free hand to grab Small's hand and pull him off balance, disarming him as I did so.\n\n\"Now, now son, you could hurt someone with this, swinging it around like that.\"\n\n\"What are..? Who? How did you do that? What have you done to Mike?\"\n\nI glanced behind me. Grunt, well Mike, was on his knees, trying not to cry. He wasn't hurt, just very, very confused. The Hand did that to people.\n\n\"Oh he's fine. I haven't hurt him. However I have something to say to the both of you.\"\n\nI let go of Mike and pushed him in front of me.\n\nIt was time to pull out my trump card.\n\n\"I want you both to know, I'm not mad I'm just disappointed.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe cops showed up a few minutes later. They found us out on the curb just talking about how thievery hurts everyone, and how their grandmothers would be very upset with their behavior.\n\nI'm gonna give a good word for them at the trial. See if they can just get away with some community service. They're good guys, just in a rough patch. It can happen to anyone." ]	1
	[WP] You live in a world where healthy foods are illegal, and junk food is the norm. After years of successfully flouting the law, you find yourself in a fruit deal gone wrong.	[ "You never really feel the sun until you're still. Really still; confined where the only direction to look is up. Always up to a free sky. A burning sky, windless and going on forever. And you're stuck there on the ground. Getting burned. Yes, you never really feel the sun until you've been in hell.\n\n\nMichael's teeth was falling out. He cried in pain and sheltered beneath the bars of his cell. The big courtyard was white and covered in that stifling European heat. Michael looked up at me. I don't know if it was scurvy or just time that had finally eroded his teeth. His eyes were sorry and the only respite for him was my shadow passing, shading him for that fleeting second.\n\n\nI'm sorry, I said.\n\n\nYou never talk in prison, not when the guards are escorting you. But if you're smart and have been here long enough, you know how to get by.\n\n\nI'm sorry. I failed. You won't have those oranges. You'll lose all your teeth my friend.\n\n\nThe guards spoke a rough language. It sounded like Italian, but I had been moved for so long that I couldn't tell where I was. I just knew I wasn't going anywhere. I would never be free.\n\n\nThere were offices carved into the wall. Whitewashed and hot. The officers and important people stayed there. The warden had his office there. His office was at the height of the mountain, kissing the sky and flirting with freedom. But there wasn't really anywhere to go. We were in the deserts somewhere. And that ledge where his office was, was stained with the blood of many a man. The only freedom there was getting shot.\n\n\nMy hands were cuffed and my feet blistered. In the shade of the mountain I felt the sweat pour off me. I thought of the nights and the only relief we had gotten. The nights when we had stolen enough fruit to make juice. To get some sustenance. I tried to imagine my sweat as the juice. A bitter orange. A scarce apple. Something. But it was sweat and I was a dying man.\n\n\nI heard someone being beaten. Other guards were shouting. Our operation was being exhumed and all the cards had fallen. Josiah was pleading. A guard kickd him and I heard him retching.\n\nPoor man, I thought.\n\n\nHe was our guard. He guarded the plunder and he was liked by all. He was trusted by all. He had all his teeth last I checked, but now he was being beaten. I imagined he lost a few.\n\n\nThey took me to the top, to the warden's office. A ceiling fan circled above in a dusty way. A bare wire ran to connect the bulb and the shadows dimmed the dark wood and the sound of a portable air conditioner hummed and shook the place.\n\n\nWarden Sergio sat behind his desk. He spoke English and looked at me like I was a rabid dog.\n\n\n\"Dashiel?\" he said. \"Why is it always the red ones who stir the shit?\"\n\n\n\"I don't know what you're talking about.\"\n\n\nThe guard hit me in the stomach.\n\n\n\"Address your betters!\" he said.\n\n\n\"I don't know what you're talking about, sir.\"\n\n\nI was kneeling.\n\n\nSergio stood up and spit in my face.\n\n\n\"You're a liar,\" he said. \"Though that is to be expected from your kind.\"\n\n\n\"You're...\"\n\n\nI tried to get up but I was kept down.\n\n\n\"I'm your better!\" Sergio cried. \"I am the victor! Do you know what you are? Do you know how lucky your kind is to even be alive?\"\n\n\n\"You're a racist worthless piece of...\"\n\n\nStruck again. The heat and stillness made me want to vomit but I didn't. If I did I believed I would have been killed.\n\n\n\"We are the victors,\" Sergio said. \"The strong survive. The weak should die... Do you know what this is?\"\n\n\nHe took a small orange from his desk. It was green and looked bitter and it made my mouth water in a torture no physical pain could rival.\n\n\n\"Do you know how much this is worth?\"\n\n\nI shook my head.\n\n\n\"What don't you know? Do you not know what this is or how much it is worth or both?\"\n\n\n\"I think that is a fruit,\" I said. \"But I've never had one so I can't say for sure, sir.\"\n\n\n\"You're a liar Dashiel.\"\n\n\nBut he didn't hit me. He peeled the orange with an old knife. The scent was too much. Even the guards were trying their best to remain composed.\n\n\n\"This is a fruit,\" Sergio said. \"This is an orange. Have you ever tasted one?\"\n\n\n\"No. Sir.\"\n\n\nHe sucked on it. The sound of it made me go mad. I lurched forward and the guards pulled me back.\n\n\n\"Wouldn't you like some?\" Sergio said, but he made no offer. \"Do you know how much this is worth?\"\n\n\nI didn't say anything.\n\n\n\"Answer the question.\"\n\n\nThey slapped me.\n\n\n\"No, sir,\" I said.\n\n\n\"It's worth more than your fucking life.\"\n\n\nHe finished the orange and his face was sticky and I wished I could have even that. I wished I was dead. And in that moment I knew I would not die then. I would not be so lucky.\n\n\n\"You fools pushed us to the war. You and your stupid weak talk killed the strong. It killed this world.\"\n\n\n\"You killed the world!\"\n\n\nSergio kicked me.\n\n\n\"We saved it!\"\n\n\n\"You bombed us and destroyed everything! You're the reason for all of this!\"\n\n\n\"We killed the weak. We killed the foolish. The true man has returned to his rightful place!\"\n\n\n\"And you've built quite a kennel for yourself.\"\n\n\nThe guards beat me. My head was bleeding and sticky with blood. In the heat it felt like juice; like sugar, that medicine from the old world.\n\n\nAnd Sergio went to the small fridge in the shadows. It was a rusty thing. It looked over a hundred years old and smelled like decaying chemicals.\n\n\nHe opened the door and the guards held my head.\n\n\n\"Some kennels we've built!\" he shouted. \"Look at how good we live!\"\n\n\nInside was over four oranges. An apple and a sliced pineapple. It was a feast, something out of a fantasy.\n\n\n\"The great men have won. You losers, you mongrels will serve us. You will know your place.\"\n\n\n\"The radiation will kill you same as...\"\n\n\n\"No it won't! We are the chosen by God. Not the hellish miscegenation that you bastards propagate. We will live.\"\n\n\nI didn't say anything. He turned to his guards.\n\n\n\"How many in the ring?\"\n\n\n\"There are about five men we've caught, sir. We are still investigating.\"\n\n\n\"Good. Good. Kill them. Continue your investigation and kill them. But leave this one alive. Let him see the killing. Let him see what happens to the weak.\"\n\n\nI screamed and they threw me down and I lost consciousness. When I awoke I was in Michael's cell. The sun was hot, hotter than anything you can imagine. There was quiet in the courtyard and that hard European sun was vengeful. My thoughts were incoherent and I descended into a coping madness. I never did see Michael or Josiah or the others ever again.", "\"Oranges?\" The woman scratched her acne'd face nervously, \"You have oranges?\"\n\n\"Fresh ones.\" Susan grinned widely, showing her teeth that had not yet rotted away, \"Not gene modified!\"\n\n\"No.\" The woman shook her head, her double chins swaying, \"I don't believe you. No one could get oranges.\"\n\n\"I have a connection in Cuba.\" Susan assured her, \"She has her own grove. I only get them in twice a year. Expensive, but you'll probably never taste another one unless you're a one-percenter.\"\n\n\"How much?\"\n\n\"Eighty per.\"\n\n\"Fuck!\" The woman spat on the ground between them and Susan shuffled back like a crab when a shark swims by, \"That's too much!\"\n\n\"Once in a lifetime offer!\" Susan assured her, reaching around into the worn backpack that hung off of her shoulder. She pulled out a single orange. It was dirty, and pale yellow instead of its namesake color, but she'd tasted them. They were the genuine article. \n\n\"I don't have that much in hard money.\" The woman frowned, \"Hold it for an hour and I'll be back.\"\n\n\"Very well.\" Susan smiled. Eighty would be brilliant. She'd only paid sixty for the entire shipment. Profit after a single sale! Business was good, there was no doubt. The gene-plight had destroyed a lot, but the little groves that survived? Those little isolated islands and farms? She knew them all! She had seen it way before the others. When the engineered crops started dying she'd already laid the groundwork for the smuggling lanes. Oranges, Asparagus, Pineapples! She could get it all!\n\nThe world was fat now, living off lab-grown meat that was trademarked by a fast-food corporation. They fed the world on the worst kind of food. Only the extremely rich could afford to be thin and healthy... only them and Susan. She was just as smart, just as clever... and they hated her for it.\n\nSo when the spotlight blinded her she knew she was finished. The guns opened up and she was dead before her body hit the ground. \n\nHeavy, heavy boots hit the ground with a huff and a wheeze. Slow, steady steps moved over and after a long, two-minute ordeal of getting down on one knee, the black-ops soldier opened up the backpack and spilled its contents onto the cracked concrete of the alleyway.\n\n\"Oranges.\" He reported over his headset radio between heavy breaths, \"Two dozen. Confirmed goods smuggler eliminated.\"\n\nHe reached down and picked one of the fruits up with his gloved hand. He wondered what it tasted like." ]	2
	[WP] You can upvote or downvote someone's karma. If you gather too many downvotes, you die. You just received a warning for last ten downvotes before death. You have anger issues and nobody likes you.	[ "The message on the screen barely registers with you. How could you possibly have such low karma? That last post of yours was absolute gold! Opening the bookmarked subreddit, you quickly go to your post.\n\n\"My Karma is in the toilet and i can't fix it! Tell me what to do!\"\nSubmitted 10 hours ago by /u/dylaxius to r/LastChanceforKarma\n\n\"I've tried everything and i can't get my karma up, but nothing works. /r/TumblrinAction calls me too extreme, and /r/ImGoingToHellForThis doesn't think i'm extreme enough. I'm a cuck in the /r/CringeAnarchy comments, and a chad to /r/Incels. Even /r/DarkHumor called me a sick fuck, though /r/Bertstrips said i wasn't thinking big enough with my comments. Can anyone show me a sub where my type of comments wont get downvoted to death?\" Your post has only a handful of responses, but one catches your eye.\n\n\"Sorry to hear that. My own comments used to get mass disliked, and i couldn't figure out why. Looking at your posts, i can see that you seem to have some serious anger issues, but you don't have any proper place to funnel them into. You yell and scream at the slightest provocation, scaring the more easily offended people away, but it's so disjointed and unfocused that it just pisses off the people who like to make offensive ones. You need something specific to focus your anger on. Now, i only send the most desperate here, since you need a certain... eye for personal flaws to make it here, but based on the few comments you've made that did well, i think you can manage.\" The last sentence was a link to a subreddit you didn't recognize. \"Good luck sir.\"\n\nClicking the link, you start skimming through the comments on the top post, a picture of a rather ugly woman with the name of the sub on a card. Eyes widening in surprise at the comments, you get the general idea almost instantly. \n\n\"Last time i saw a face like that, it was getting pulled out of a house fire. I've seen running blenders that are more fuckable than you.\" You type into the /r/RoastMe comment box, a wicked grin on your face. Oh you have no doubt that you'll do well here. No doubt at all." ]	1
	[WP]Out of hunger, you say aloud, "Man, I'd kill for a sandwich." A heavily scarred man suddenly hands you a sandwich, a picture, and an address. "3 days", he says before merging with the crowd.	[ "After his exit, I looked at the parcel he'd handed to me. Upon unwrapping the deli paper, my heart sank. It wasn't a particularly good sandwich; cheap, sugary multi-grain bread, American \"cheese\", a mealy tomato slice that was taken from the end with the stem on it, a single stalk of malnourished lettuce that hadn't been properly washed, and worst of all, a few slices of ham that had not been piled onto the bread, but haphazardly laid flat so that most of it was sticking over the side. It was a shitty sandwich, made by a shitty person in such a way as to make it clear that, \"I don't care about you or this mother fucking sandwich at all, so choke on it, asshat\".\n\nI looked back up into the crowd. There was no sign of the strange man with the scarred face.\n\n\"I'm not killing for this\", I said to no one in particular. \"At most I'd slap someone for it\". Remembering the photo, I raised it up to inspect it more closely. The person was a recognizable YouTube personality, known for their cooking show.\n\n\"Yeah, this would have to be a much better sandwich to commit murder over. It would at least have to be on a baguette or something.\"\n\nSuddenly, the familiar voice piped up from behind.\n\n\"What's the problem?\" asked the man with the scarred face. \"What's the problem?\" I repeated. \"Look at this shit.\" I said while directing his attention to the tomato. \n\n\"Look, I don't make the sandwiches, I just give people the stuff and then leave.\" \n\nI raised my shoulders briefly. \"Well, you need better suppliers if you're going to try to cold-sell people with this garbage.\" I said as I flipped through the ingredients, my face awash with incredulity. The man sighed. \"Okay, what will it take?\". His voice sounded weary. \"Hmm.\" My eyes darted upward. \"Probably a Reuben... but the meat has to be sliced nice and thin, and it has to be on real rye. The good shit.\"\n\n\"Fine. Stay here.\" he said, about to disappear back into the crowd. \"One more thing:\" I said, halting his steps. \"too much dressing, no fucking deal\".\n\nAnd once more he disappeared.\n\n", "I was walking to my car from the VAB thinking, \"Man, how did I land a job at NASA\". I shook my head and kept walking. I was about half way to the parking lot looking out for the alligators as NASA had the GREAT idea of building the VAB in a swamp. I was looking out as usual when I saw something move at a random food stand and I thought it was just the OD janitor but then I realized, we don't have an out door food stand. I walk over out of curiosity to see what the \"janitor\" was doing there. I walk up and say, \"hey man, is this stand new?\" This, man if you call him that, looked up and had a face of pure hate. His voice was a deep growl comparable to Keythe Farley. \"Yea it's new\" he barked. It was at this point I noticed the bulge in his jacket, I was quite nervous as I had never been mugged before and I was pretty sure it was a gun. \n\nThis man, \"Kellog\" I'll call him, reached into his jacket and I almost yelped as I thought it was a gun, he whips it out and hands it to me as my eyes are wrenched shut. I am confused as this \"gun\" feels squishy and smells kinda like corned beef on rye? I open my eyes only to see the stand is gone and \"Kellog\" is walking to a '69 charger in a far parking spot and said something strange: \"ya got 3 days kid\", and disappeared in the midst of the cars. I thought, \"the hell\" and started eating the sandwich. \n\nI was about halfway into the sandwich when I bit into something that was not corned beef. \"wtf, paper in my sandwich?\", was more or less mumbled. I pulled the sandwich apart and looked at the paper. On closer inspection it was a note, it read, \"John Dough Hotel, 3rd balcony far left: This guy.\" There was a picture on the back. \"P.S., look in the gold Honda Civic '96's trunk for some help. it's unlocked\". \n\nAnd so I went to the only gold 1996 Honda civic in the lot, I opened the trunk and in side was a crappy looking old wood rifle, I believe the receiver said \"Mosine Nugget\" or something like that. \n\n\"At least he gave me a gun.\" I guess I had a man to go get. And relatively fast as I a kinda busy schedule for the last two days. The rest of the sandwich was pretty good too.\n", "After graduating college, I wound up working at a finance office across from my alma mater's campus. Today marks the first full day of the quarter and the quad is filled with local restaurants pushing free samples in the hope of winning four years of loyalty from hungry, poor students. After losing my morning to meetings, I finally head to the quad at noon. My young face may cause financial clients to take me less seriously, but I can still cash it in for free food and product samples at the college.\n\nA teeming mass of students presses against me, arms thrown forward to take selfies and announce their imminent food scores to their friends from 'back home,' whether that was this city or a small town states away. As the minutes pass, my hunger grows. I find myself doubting whether it is worth standing in this line for yet another interminable fifteen minutes for what seems to be a three inch sub from the local sandwich shop. \"Man, I'd kill for a sandwich,\" I mutter. \"A real sandwich. At least four inches.\"\n\nSuddenly, I feel a shadow pass over me. A man whose face is buried beneath jagged, fresh scars shoved a sandwich into my hands. The scars were bright red - almost cartoonishly so. \"Um, no thank you, sir,\" I stutter, attempting to be calm and polite in the face of this giant. He reaches toward me and tuck a piece of paper into my jacket pocket. \n\n\"Three days,\" he says, quietly but firmly, \"and there's more where that came from.\" I open my mouth to ask what he means but he is already halfway through the crowd.\n\nI pull the paper out of my pocket. \"Drama Club Auditions, Thursday, 8 PM. Arts Building. Call Dave with questions.\" A smiling giant of a man, though not scarred, stands next to a small troupe of students on the front of the flyer. \n\nI roll my eyes and crumple the paper. I may be desperate for a sandwich -and I would accept this large man's gift of a mediocre sub - but not so desperate as to fake my way into a college drama troupe.\n\nAlthough, the sandwich is quite good. I pull my phone out and typed \"Club?\" into my calendar before going back to crunching numbers and considering how far I'm willing to go for the promise of a free meal - and perhaps even a new scar. ", "I'd set the rendezvous for the subway; somewhere inconspicuous thanks to all the traffic it sees. Keeping my eye on the time for 12 train from Olympic Park I say the code phrase. \"Man, I'd kill for a sandwhich!\". As if out of the ether, the Contractor exits a group coming to their platform. He hands me the sandwich, which conseals the memory card holding all the target information.\n\n\"Three days.\" He says. His scarred face the result of being emulated on a botched job, now he's reduced to running the information between parties and brokering deals. As the Contractor leaves I open the sandwich and retrieve the card and put it into my phone, the target's picture pops up along with a brief description. The information was all confirmed and had been meticulously researched. \n\nThe 12 pulled to the platform and I pulled the card from my phone and snapped it before stepping on. I make the doors and sit before my mind replays all the details back to me. My own contract, hand delivered. It was policy to issue contracts to more than one party, I guess the Contractor wanted me to have a heads up. I have three days to plan now.", "It was the third day and I'd found it.\n\nA cafe. One of those hole in the wall places.\n\nI ducked under the striped awning, navigating my way past the two circles of patio outside. \n\nIt was dark inside, shadowed in a gentle sort of way. The tables inside were made of lacquered wood, strong and hearty, and had that gentle shine of being cleaned often and thoroughly. But they were also empty. \n\nThere was only a single other person in the cafe, cast in sharp relief by a shaft of light shining in from a single window high above. A man. His back towards me, standing behind the counter. \n\nHe turned slowly. First his head, then a shoulder, and soon enough the rest of his great frame. It was a steady movement, almost delicate in a way. He moved as if he carried the inertia of whole mountains.\n\nWhen he was facing me well and true, I couldn't help but notice the cleaver poking out of his giant fist. \n\nI also noticed he was my man from the picture. \n\n\"Eating?\" he asked. The voice was as solid as the man. \n\n\"I uh--\" I said, stepping forward a little. \"Funny story,\" my voice cracked. \n\nHe turned away, \"Eat or go. Do not be bothering me.\"\n\nI swallowed and slowly approached the counter. Why exactly I dunno. Curiousity has always been my defining trait. Besides it was probably just his sthick. Some gruff and tuff customer service. \n\nI sat down in front of him and put money down on the counter.\n\n\"I'm hungry.\" I said.\n\nHe looked down at my money. Something like scorn flashed across his eyes.\n\n\"Eat first, then you pay.\"\n\n\"I--\" but he had already turned away again. Chopping at what I now saw was a whole pig in front of him. I sat there in silence, wondering if I should be ordering or something. There was no menu so far as I could see.\n\nHe struck the pig once more and a spray of blood sprayed out and dotted the counter to the right of me. Right. No. This wasn't where I wanted to eat. I'd just ask for the information and leave.\n\n\"A man gave me your picture,\" I said quickly, trying to get it all out and over with. \"A man in the middle of a crowd. I thought it was some kind of joke. He had scars all over, and he gave me your picture and address and told me I had three days or something.\"\n\nHe turned again, quickly this time, knocking over a couple of condiments on the counter in his haste.\n\nI would be hard pressed to call him hospitable before, but now there was no trace of warmth in his voice. \"You. He gave this to you, you said?\"\n\nHe was still holding the cleaver. \"Yes.\"\n\n\"What did you say to him that he would give this to you.\" He was still holding the cleaver. I tried to take a step back, but his other arm whipped out, quick as anything and gripped me firmly by the shoulder.\n\n\"It was nothing. Something stupid. Just a joke.\"\n\n\"What did you say to him. Give me the words.\"\n\n\"I said, uh,\" I swallowed again. \"I said I'd kill for a sandwich.\"\n\n\"And?\" he demanded \"AND?\"\n\n\"Then he gave me the sandwich, the address, and the picture.\"\n\n\"The sandwich, was it good? Was it GOOD?\" His hand was downright clenching my shoulder. I braced both hands and shoved it off.\n\n\"Yes!\" I said. \"Yes goddamit it was good. In fact, it was great. It was the best goddamn sandwich I ever fucking had. And I've been craving it. Chasing down any lead I could find looking for that scarred fuck. Cause I need it now. I want it more than anything. Just for one, more, fucking bite.\"\n\nI started crying then. I hadn't cried since I was a child. But I was crying now, in front of a huge burly man who might very well decide to kill me. \n\nI felt myself jerked forward and found myself nestled with my cheek against his chest, nestled just below his armpit.\n\n\"Me too,\" he whispered down to me. \"Me too.\"\n\nHe let me go, and I slumped down to the counter, still shell-shocked.\n\n\"We are brothers then,\" he declared, and tossed me something from below the counter. I caught it in my lap. An apron.\n\n\"So. Man who would kill for a sandwich,\" he grinned. \"Let us begin. Let us match our master and together learn how to make another sandwich worth dying for.\"\n\nI gaped up at him. Then slowly, I could feel the sides of my lips begin to tug, and I was grinning as wide and openly as my brother in front of me. \n\n\"I'll bite,\" I said. " ]	5
	[WP] A superhero has the power to give people empathy in order to solve problems. The irony is that the superhero is a psychopath.	[ "\"Recent reports indicate that Lord Blackheart, known to many as 'The Demon of Capital City', has retired from villainy. He was last seen at the animal shelter, taking in all the animals slated to be put down for the next week. While some sources seem to think Blackheart came to this change naturally, we here at Cape news know this was just another victory for Capital City's favorite hero, The Heart!\"\n\nThe news station prattled on into the apartment. The Heart lived fairly well, but he lived alone. He rarely had opponents that lasted more than one bout, and Lord Blackheart was one of them. That said, as far a superpowers go, being a colossal dickbag who could intentionally ignore the plight of anyone at a whim was pretty low on the power scale, but it still made him hard to surmount when your only power was making people feel bad for others. There was also Atlas, who thought his end goal justified his crimes regardless of the harm his actions did, but he sort of went quiet after the highly publicized trial of Megacorp's CEO where he got fined and jailed for some white collar crime.\n\nThe only other villain he regularly tangled with was Talon, but Talon was also poor and apparently did evil more out of necessity than actual malice, so there wasn't much the Heart could do to get him out of it. He could probably fix that too, but despite his name, the Heart didn't give a rat's ass about the plight of the poor. Blackheart had even mocked him for it toward the end of their last fight.\n\n\"Hah, quite ironic that you can fix any heart in the world, but never your own!\"\n\nIt wasn't that he didn't care at all, as a hero it was essentially a requirement that you at least have a passing interest in the greater good. But it went no further, and he actually felt more smug satisfaction at the praise the city heaped on him for his heroics than any joy for doing good. The Heart had considered turning to villainy, given that he had more fun watching the breakdown of his opponents when they realized how evil they had been acting than in actually making a difference, but his power only works one way and it would difficult to gain a villainous reputation by giving people empathy. Not that it would be impossible, but it wasn't worth the effort. He couldn't even just ignore it, Atlas' whole rhetoric hit home when he talked about the responsibility of those with powers to stand above those without, even if his ideal was one of domination rather than the inspiration the heroes tended to push.\n\n\"Breaking news, Capital City is under attack! Alien ships have descended upon downtown and are kidnapping people withe their tractor beams! Our only hope is to hold out until the heroes arrive to save the day!\"\n\nHis ears perked at the word attack, and Heart was out the door before the station even called for the heroes. No harm in seeing how aliens would be affected by his power, or so he justified it to himself." ]	1
	[WP] Cupid's job is on the line, and he has one last chance to prove he's still fit for the job. Unfortunately, the husband in his next case died earlier than expected, and Heaven takes no excuses. Death offers to resurrect him... if Cupid can help Death find a love of his own.	[ "\"..Okay Death. Tell me what you look for in a girl\"\n\"Well, being alive is usually good. And pretty\"\nCupid frowned. Death was being ambiguous. He'd been trying for nearly a week to find the right girl for him, but nothing was catching. He had tried every nationality, hair color, eye color, every possible combination. Nothing had worked. Oh, Heaven will have his wings for this. Cupid was already imagining exactly how the firing was going to go down when he had an idea. He flew away, leaving the confused Death with only an \"I'll be back\". Death sat there, for what felt like hours. There was no way Cupid could find Death the right girl, because even Death didn't know what he wanted. He had been in the business for many a year, but still didn't have a type. Death looked up, and lost his breath. The eye contact between the two seemed to last forever. This was it. This was love. \"Death,\" Cupid said, beaming with triumph, \"meet Father Time.\"" ]	1
	[WP] your an NSA agent. Tell me about your favorite people to spy on and their lives.	[ "excerpt from an interrupted phone conversation\n\n\"Sir,\n\nContrary to popular belief, the Director never allows us to keep favorites. \n\nNormally it all starts with an algorithm. A streem of numbers predicting statistical likelihood that \"Joe\" may decide to detonate the nearby McDonalds based upon words or phrases used by past offenders. If you want the truly creepy guys, look for the marketers who use the same system. Those \"make your insert reproductive organ name here change to describe desired effect here\" advertisements don't show up at random.\n\nThat being said, some truly interesting characters occasionally pass my desk.\n\nFor example; a certain middle-aged American living in the rural midwest spent six hours every day on the phone with the Russian Intelligence service. Normally innocuous, until the terms \"Rocket\" and \"Bang\" showed up. \n\nWe investigated. Turns out he met this female NKVD agent on Tinder while both were visiting NYC. The hit it off, and kept in touch after going back to their homes. Context being everything, those words referred to a planned... intimate encounter later on. His case was assigned to FBI-CI (Counter Intelligence) and we moved on.\n\nIn another, we had this special case involving a supposed sympathiser to one of those scary groups with overly elaborate Arabic names. Avoiding details, it soumded like he wanted to bring some dangerous stuff into the homeland. We had USCG and Customs intercept. The cargo was dangerous, to the nostrils, made for some damn good curry though.\n\nAnyways, don't worry about us. If we thought you were an actual threat, we would have already done something about it. Either that, or we lost your paperwork.\n\nAlso, regarding your search history: I suggest you delete your local history file more often. You do have a wife after all.\n\nGood day, sir.\"" ]	1
	[WP]Timers appear over people's heads, counting down until the moment they die. These timers are never wrong.	[ "I remember the very moment when Annabel died.\n\nSince the day we were born, we all had these clocks hanging over our heads. They never went up and they never stood still. They only counted down.\n\nI was told as a child that when the clock reached zero, we'd fall asleep and never wake up. An obvious way to say 'we're all going to die sooner or later' without truly saying so in the first place. \n\nAnnabel's timer was always far lower than everyone else's. Nobody really knew why it was so low, but just that it was and that was that. We all just came to accept it. Even she did.\n\nIt was her tenth birthday, I recall. She had invited her friends to her house, one of those being myself. \n\n3,654 seconds. That was what her timer read when the party began. I had given most of my attention that day to her timer. I remember that more than most anything else that happened that day.\n\nAnnabel soon suggested that we play by the ravine behind her house. It was dangerous, but it was her favorite place in the world. We all ecstatically skipped alongside her as we made our way there.\n\nThe ravine was a beautiful, entrancing place. One could it on the edge and let their legs dangle in the air as they threw pebbles into the spaces between the jagged rocks down below.\n\nOnce we reached the fog-shrouded edge, Annabel's timer read a measly 607. She didn't seem to care that the number was crawling so low - in fact, it appeared as if she'd forgotten that the timer was even there, counting down to her inevitable demise.\n\nWe all sat on the edge together, taking in the beauty of the place. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the loose dirt crumbling away under her feet. Her timer now displayed 15 seconds, then 14, then 13...\n\nSuddenly, she disappeared from the edge. The timer read 3. I knew it was over for her.\n\nHer blond hair streaked through the fog as she plummeted down. Her own cries for help were lost in the shocked yelps of her other friends.\n\nAs soon as she met with the rocks, her timer ran out. \n\nThat's when I knew she was dead.", "Tick, tick, tick, tick. \n\nEvery second the timer goes down just bit further and the old man gets just a bit weaker.\n\nTick, tick, tick, tick. \n\nThe timer goes down further and he sighs.\n\n\"Hey grandpa! what's that number mean.\" A little girl asks from his bedside.\n\n\"Ugh\" He sighs and looks over at her timer read another good 2,600,000,000 seconds on it while his read a measly 600. Already he could feel himself slipping away to the darkness. \"It's the number of seconds until I take a big nap sweetie.\" He said smiling, he didn't dare be the one to shatter her innocence, not him.\n\n\"Oh okay.\" She said and then went quiet, simply swinging her legs back and forth, not yet tall enough to reach the ground from the chair she is sitting on. \"Would you like some quiet time so you can sleep?\" She asked curiously.\n\n\"No honey, I enjoy your company.\" He said smiling again and letting the room fall to silence. He was truly blessed to have lived the life he lived, to have a granddaughter like this one.\n\nSince the day he lived, since they all lived these timers have been counting down. Never in history has one actually been wrong either, but it was a relief ya know? Knowing the date you would die, that way you could make much more of yourself in the time you had. \n\nIt was hard to of course, I mean when a friend or a loved one neared there end. Hell he remembered the day his wife neared hers, he begged pleaded and prayed for her to walk out of that hospital with him alive, and yet like always the timer reached zero and she was gone. \n\nNow it's his turn, 120 secs, the world began to go black for him.\n\nTick, Tick, Tick, Tick\n\n60 secs.\n\nHe can barely make out a women rushing into the room.\n\n\"Dad! Dad! No please no!\" He can hear her screaming and pleading like he did so long ago for her. \n\n\"Shhh mommy! Grandpa's trying to take a nap.\" He heards whispered.\n\nBlackness...then a familiar face smiling at him.\n----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\nIf you didn't completely hate that consider subscribing to /r/thesepagesarekindastupid" ]	2
	[WP] The one time I needed him to lie, he finally told the truth.	[ "What a beautiful lair this man is...lies after lies after lies..it never stops.i thought when will this man ever tell me the truth?could he be that he is a natural born lair that can't tell the truth to save his life?well..iys very possible. All these lies. Why am I still here. Just for the lies to continue.why should he even stop lying,when his lying has brought him this far.\nHow can I ever believe a word he says.i don't know the difference between his lies and his truths.they all lies.thats all he can TELL.\n But I am all wrong \nAs much as all these lies bothers me....i really wanted to hear that sweet lie..this time..just this one TIME \nBut that's when I was up for a rude awakening \nI found our coUld tell the truth \nBut why does it have to be.....\nThe one time I needed to hear him lie to me\nI needed it ..damn it!\nHe actually told the truth\nHOW DARE HE!\nWHY NOW\nI am so accustomed to his lies \nI wanna hear it\n\"I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH YOU\"\n YES YOU ARE!\nthat's just one of your lies. I cried.\nHow can I not love me.\nI wanted to hear\n\"I AM HOPELESSLY IN LOVE WITH YOU AND I WANT YOU FOREVER\"\nBut instead after all the lies.\nThe one time I needed him\nTo lie\nHE TOLD THE FUCKING \nTRUTH\nHE DOES NOT LOVE ME\nOUCH!", "\"Tell me you didn't. Tell me!\" I screamed, watching him fidget in his seat.\n\nHe looked away - and then I knew.. Even before he spoke, I knew he was going to tell the truth.\n\nThe world blurred behind the veil of tears that washed over my eyes. I wiped them away with the back of my hand and looked at him. Waited. Anger. Balled fists. \n\n\"I did,\" he admitted\n\n\"How could you?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"Get out.\"\n\n\"Ana, I'm sor-\"\n\n\"I SAID... Get. Out.\"\n\nHe rose and left. The door slammed behind him. I fell to my knees and cried, then went through my photo album, took every picture that I had of my best friend, cut them into little peices and flushed them down the toilet.\n\nMy phone rang. It was her. I blocked the number and then deleted her from my contacts.\n\n", "I awoke, laying in dirt. I looked around. I was in a desert, and the sun was low in the sky. A small amber bottle lay next to me. I grabbed it and sat up. I wiped some of the dirt from the bottle, and like magic, out popped a faintly glowing amethyst-colored cat of normal size with pale blue diamonds for eyes. As it moved, it floated like a dust cloud before settling to the ground. It yawned and stretched and turned to face me.\n\n\nI shouted, \"Wow, a purple cat!\"\n\n\nIt gave me a once-over look and a frown, then lazily bellowed, \"I... AM CATTARAX... I see across all of space and time, and I always tell it like it is.\"\n\n\nI blinked a few times, then stated, \"I am Bobby... I see a movie every weekend, and I'm not sure how I got here.\" I looked around. Nothing but desert to the horizon. \n\n\nWith a sigh, Cattarax said, \"Well... by the magic that sealed me in that bottle...\" Cattarax pointed a paw to the bottle in my hand, \"I am bound to guide and protect you. I can guide you home.\"\n\n\n\"Wow, really?\"\n\n\n\"I just said-\" Cattarax started angrily, then stopped abruptly and continued more calmly, \"Yes, I am a genie from another dimension, where manipulating quantum mechanics is an innate skill.\"\n\n\n\"Can I call you Schrodinger?\"\n\n\nCattarax frowned, then feigned a smile. \"Nothing would make me happier, my master.\"\n\n\n\"Are you a boy cat or a girl cat?\"\n\n\n\"What does it-\" Cattarax calmed, then continued, \"I am from a plane of existence where gender no longer exists... we have evolved to have no need for such constructs. Incidentally, as an all-seer, and as your sworn, faithful guide, I can guarantee you that if you walk toward the sunset...\" Catterax pointed a paw to where the sun was resting in the sky, \"...you will make it home by tomorrow morning.\"\n\n\n\"Wow! Thanks, Schrodinger!\" We began walking toward the sunset. \"You know, that name you call yourself sounds familiar.\"\n\n\nCatterax gave a nervous look. \"What? It shouldn't. It's a completely original name. Nothing else in the universe has the same name, I assure you. CATTARAX SEES ALL.\"\n\n\n\"I dunno... for some reason, it's making me think of my grandma. I'll have to think about it. Schrodinger is cooler anyway.\"\n\n\nWe walked and walked. It felt like we'd walked ten miles by the time I realized the sun was moving higher and higher in the sky. I turned to Cattarax and said, \"Hey, didn't you say the sun was setting?\"\n\n\n\"NO, YOU-\" Cattarax shot me a look, \"I mean... no, no you must have misheard me. Why, is it too hot for you? Walking for miles with the sun beating down on your already sunburned human body?\"\n\n\n\"Yeah... it's like crazy hot out here... I don't have any water... so thirsty....\"\n\n\n\"I promise you, there is water just over the horizon. We must keep going, or we will have traveled in vain.\"\n\n\nI tripped over a rock and twisted my ankle. The pain shot through my leg like an electric fire. \"Oh god! The pain! Schrodinger, help!\"\n\n\nCattarax tried to suppress a smile and said, \"It's broken. You require immediate attention, or you will bleed out internally.\"\n\n\nI rolled myself into a seated position, and I tried to place some weight on the damaged foot. Pressure intensified the pain. I flexed my foot from side to side. It did not add to the pain. \"Are- are you sure? It hurts a lot... but it doesn't feel broken.\"\n\n\n\"ARE YOU QUESTIONING THE BOUNDLESS SIGHT OF THE GREAT CATTARAX?\"\n\n\n\"No, no. Just- please, you're magic or something, right? Please just take away the pain.\"\n\n\n\"I can guide you, but the laws of my magical plane prevent me from using my magic for direct aid. You see that cactus? Over there?\" Cattarax pointed.\n\n\n\"Where?\" I squinted and looked into the distance. \"Way over there?\"\n\n\n\"Yes, the one with the purple flower.\"\n\n\n\"What about it?\"\n\n\n\"You must drink from it. It will take away your pain.\"\n\n\n\"It's so far. Can you please get it for me? You can still walk.\"\n\n\nCattarax suppressed a giggle. \"No... you must crawl.\" Cattarax smiled. \"As I have stated, I am unable to provide physical assistance to your corporeal body. I may only provide you with accurate guidance from my limitless wisdom. If you'd been listening to me, you would know that already.\"\n\n\n\"Okay.\" I crawled on my hands and one healthy leg toward the cactus with the purple flower. It must have been a quarter mile from where I fell.\n\n\nWhen I reached the cactus, I realized it was absolutely covered with needles. There would be no way around all of them. I touched one, and it shot into my skin like a miniature torpedo, the feeling would be best described as, stinging and burning so badly that it itched a little bit.\n\n\nStill smiling, Cattarax said, \"Well... dig in!\"\n\n\nI tried to avoid as many needles as possible as I tore away at the outer flesh of the cactus, but my hands were attacked by dozens of the tiny hot pokers. The pain was excruciating. \"What do I need to do? It hurts! There's no cactus juice in here! You said there would be juice!\"\n\n\n\"I said no such thing. I said you must eat the cactus.\"\n\n\n\"Eat it?\"\n\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\nI shrugged and bit away a piece of the soft inner cactus flesh. It was surprisingly dry, and it took a while to chew it thoroughly. I swallowed it, and it descended slowly down my esophagus. \"How much do I need to eat?\"\n\n\nCattarax smiled, \"The whole thing.\"\n\n\nMy heart sunk. I took another bite. \"It's so hot out here.\"\n\n\nAfter several bites, I began to feel dizzy. I kept eating. I told Cattarax, but he just snapped, \"You'll be fine. Keep eating.\"\n\n\nSeveral minutes later, I felt extremely weak, and my vision began closing in. I pleaded with Cattarax, my lone companion. I was scared. I whispered, \"Schrodinger... please... please tell me I'll be okay.\"\n\n\nCattarax smiled. \"You're going to die.\"\n\n\nI felt a faint sense of terror as my vision closed in around the last thing I saw... a pair of sparkling blue diamonds on a maniacal purple feline smile. The last thing I heard as I drifted off to death was Cattarax's voice, once again booming, \"WAKE ME UP FROM MY CAT NAP, YOU SON OF A BITCH? I'M A TOM CAT FROM A FUTURE BEYOND THIS ROCK, AND MY REAL NAME IS FRANK! HUMANS SUCK, SPACE CATS RULE!\"" ]	3
	[WP] In a dystopian future where instruments are illegal to own, and music is forbidden, You and your best friend one day stumble upon possibly the last (Insert Instrument of Choice Here) in existence.	[ "\"April 29, 2072; Hello, and welcome to volume 34 F of President Grant's reinforcement programme - \" My eyes peeled away from the MP3 device sitting permanently attached to my wrist. I decided I could no longer listen to yet another mandatory instalment of the country's audio propaganda - and pulled out my earphones. We were all sitting for breakfast. It was eight AM sharp, and the rest of my family were content, plugged in. I gingerly placed my knife and fork back onto the table. Seeing the glazed looks in their eyes made me wonder, were they thinking for themselves? I believed they liked to think what they were doing was voluntary, but I knew it wasn't, and I think apart of them did, too. I was lucky. I always managed to breeze through audio confirmation somehow. There were others who weren't as lucky. We typically didn't see them outside as often as the rest of us after their shortcomings.\n\nI stood from the table. My mother gave me a look, but ultimately returned to her session. She loved me, I guessed. Apart of her wanted me to listen too. So I wouldn't have to stay inside. Another part of her wanted me to be free. She didn't speak up against me, for me - she didn't speak, really. I left the table without a word, then exited the kitchen through the back door. The early daytime was always barren. I needed fresh air, though. I wanted to think for myself. People typically didn't leave their homes until they had gotten through the entire hour and a half of audio. I was willing, that day, and compelled, to go outside. \n\n\"Lucy\" I was startled to be called upon by a red haired girl I recognized. \n\nI huffed for a moment to catch my breath, then spoke \"Sona? Why are you in my backyard?\" \n\n\"Just follow me?\" She pleaded. I felt like the request was a bit sudden, she didn't seem to care to explain. The girl grabbed my hand.\n\n\"Okay, I should be back before confirmation today, though.\"\n\nSona came to me with everything. We shared things with each other, things that we believed no one else knew about. We were two treasonous friends. The world was so much more complicated than the audio made it seem, and we had this sort of perpetual need to prove it to each other. Apart of me loved her - she was so bright, and spontaneous. I knew to trust her. So I went with her. She lead me out of the yard and down the street. We took the alley, out of sight from the houses on Lincoln Avenue. Eventually we came to her house. She was only 20, but she owned her own home. Sona was an expert at finance, economy and policy. She worked for the House - the government. I think that was what made her so tantalizing to me; she knew what she was doing because she was an insider.\n\nHer house was a dream. Underneath her bed rested a chest full of vinyl records. We didn't have a record player - we'd never heard what was on them, but we knew it was music. The contraband was like psychological candy - I desired so badly to know what the music sounded like. I had never had the pleasure of hearing it before the House made it illegal. That day however she hadn't brought me to look at her record collection, she had something new for me-\n\n\"I was commissioned to transport something to a classified location. I have it stored in my closet, and I wanted to show it to you before it's taken to the archives.\" She declared, a smile on her face. I followed her to where 'it' was kept, and watched her open the closet to reveal a black leather case. \n\n\"What is it?\" I asked.\n\nShe pulled it out and placed it on the ground, then kneeled to open it. \"A guitar.\" \nI was enamoured and beguiled by the object. It was beautiful - stained wood, aged strings; I had only ever heard verbal descriptions of the item, never seen one. It was prettier than I imagined. Sona removed it from its case and held it like a pro. I was impressed. \n\n\"Listen\" she plucked the strings, and the sound that was produced registered in my brain seamlessly. It felt right to hear, familiar almost, albeit never having heard anything like it. Then, panic set in.\n\n\"What if they know you have this at home? Or am showing it to me?\" \n\n\"It's okay, just relax.\" Catching her gaze calmed me. I watched as her fingers pressed against the strings in patterns I could never have imagined. \n\n\"How did you learn to do that?\"\n\n\"Having top level security access helps with things like this.\" \n\n\"Right.\" I was so amazed, I hugged her over the instrument, then stood back quickly. \"This is incredible! People have to hear this.\"\n\nThe smile left her face. She lowered the instrument back into its confinements, sealed the case, then placed it back into the closet. \"Luce, this is just for us, okay? Promise me. It's being archived tonight. I think it may be one of the last of it's kind. I can't risk having it destroyed. I took a huge risk by even showing it to you.\"\n\nShe was right. I knew I was lucky. I left to return home before the administration arrived. 10AM sharp.\n\n...\n\"Hello, I hope you found todays message to be enlightening and encouraging.\" The holographic agent appeared over our living room table. \"Today based on the audio you've been given we are hoping to confirm what you've been taught today for sociological data. You will find a short list of questions on your MP3 device that can be answered using the touch screen.\" \n\nI could barely focus, images of the guitar repeatedly flashing through my mind. I needed see it again - play it for myself. I don't know what overcame me in those moments - I jumped up from my seat, then jogged toward the front door.\n\n\"Lucy, wait! They won't let you leave if you don't complete this - you know what happened last time.\" My mother yelled frantically. \n\n\"I need to see Sona.\" I ignored the defeat in her eyes, then ran out the front door. ~\n" ]	1
	[WP] You watch a terrible fire consume a nearby chemical plant on the news. A day later, the superpower you always dreamed of manifests. The problem: the airborne chemicals responsible are spanning the globe giving the same powers to everyone else as well.	[ "People would always dream of having any kind of superpowers they wanted. Hey, I can relate - on some occasions I'd love to be the Incredible Hulk, tearing through the city with no-one able to stop my infinite strength. On the other, I'd want to turn invisible, take up as little space as I needed to be able to avoid people and get wherever I wanted no matter what anyone said.\n\nA week ago when I was driving home I passed the same building as I always had, some sort of pharmaceutical campus or whatever. Only this time the place erupted into flames, a dirty cloud spilling across the area. I succumbed to a coughing fit while calling the authorities and telling them what had happened. And the next day, I woke up in hospital and was given the all-clear. I went home the next day.\n\nThat evening I changed.\n\nYeah, I had the powers of the Hulk, but I also had the other powers I wanted as well, mainly Invisibility and being really fucking tiny. I was basically a goblin - complete with pointy ears and nose - who had anabolic steroids for blood. 4 feet tall, heaving with muscles... and also with invisibility and teleportation of all things! I was also lucky enough to turn off my \"Tiny Hulk\" powers at will so I could at least have a secret identity and still go to work.\n\nBut the cloud of chemicals was still out there. Some say that it would eventually become diluted in the atmosphere enough that no-one else could get powers but there was already about 50 of us who had been exposed to the path and this is from a really small town in California. There were calls to imprison the Powered which is why I've always gone out only at night, mainly to see how many boulders i could juggle in the desert or how many times I can run down the main street, naked and green whilst entirely invisible. \n\nYou have no idea how hilarious it is to pose nude for that super-bitchy woman who vandalizes the music store and preaches how \"God Hates Fags\" and shit and not have her notice. I'd occasionally let some stoners who smoked by the underpass see me, albeit wearing a G-String to spare them the horror of a fully-nude goblin.\n\nI don't know precisely what made me actually give a damn. It may have been that armed robbery where the thug forced the bank employees to undress the females for his own sick humor, throwing blood packs at them and apologizing for catching them on their time of the month.\n\nI was just leaving work as it happened. I decided, \"Well, got nothing better to do, might as well do some community service.\" I teleported back home, put on some workout clothing and hiking boots I had ordered off Amazon then hulking out and returning to see him running for his car.\n\nHe turned his keys in the ignition repeatedly to try and start the engine. He grumbled something about a \"Shitty old engine,\" which led him to leap out of the car, slamming the door behind him and running to the front...\n\nOnly to see me holding the car's main engine in my hands and compressing it into a ball, glaring right at him with a cheeky faux-smile. 'Hi,' I said to him before throwing the metallic orb into the frame of the car like a basketball, sending it barrelling down the street a good 50 feet while not breaking eye contact. And just as easily, I dropped my pleasant smile just as he bolted down the street.\n\nDo you know how far the Hulk can leap in a single bound? 3 miles. This guy was running down the street at maybe 7 meters per second. And after a 100 meter head start I had dived at him, tackling him to the ground before standing and restraining him under a single foot, a 1200lb ball of muscle (I broke into a scrapyard to check) standing over him and crushing his gun in the palm of my hand like it was nothing.\n\nThe police arrived soon after and opened fire on me, pelting me with about 30 bullets and shells before I got them to stop. 'Whoa, whoa!' I yelled at them. 'This guy robbed a bank at gunpoint and you're shooting at me? Whatever happened to the idea of Citizens' Arrest?'\n\nI took my foot off of him, lifted him up and shoved him over towards the police. 'Take him,' I said dismissively, 'I've got to eat.' I turned invisible before teleporting home, returning to my human form and making myself some cajun turkey saugage pasta.\n\nI sat down to eat and saw myself on the news, an \"unidentified individual believed to be a Powered who foiled a bank robbery.\" The chief of police in town was offering a reward for whoever could identify me.\n\nYou know, I could use the extra cash...\n\n---\n\n(Part 2 coming soon)", "At work, he heard mostly the same things over and over:\n\"I need a new job\"\n\"Shut the FUCK up stop talking about your kids\"\n\"Who would EVER ask that question\"\n\"I need a new job\"\n\"I'm so tired of this shit\"\n\"I need a new job\"\n\nHe hadn't learned to turn it off quite yet. He had always wanted to be able to mind read, but he didn't know it would entail such a constant stream of thoughts. \n\nHe was glad to be out of his work environment for now. He was glad to be at the gas station with hardly anyone around him to get into his head. He swiped his card and began filling up. \n\n\"I can't believe he made me pump gas, it's freezing out here\" came from the tiny brunette standing next to a Toyota Corolla. \n\nWell it gets me to work and back. I hate how much I spend every week on this. Spend money to make money. \n\n\"Don't buy cigarettes this time, you don't need them every week you stop at the gas station, it's a bad habit, and the first step to quitting is just not spending the money on a new pack\" came from the middle aged bald man filling up his Lexus RX. \n\nHe looked down and away to try and silence things. He finished filling up and decided he wanted some snacks for the rest of his drive home. Having already paid for gas, he figured he could use his recently acquired power to save some money in this situation. He never had been a criminal, nor petty, but he always had been a strategist. He would listen to find out when the cashier was distracted, and then he could grab some things and sneak out. It would be like a game, one he could easily win at. It was low stakes, he wasn't going to feel bad about taking a pack of gummy worms and a powerade. \n\nHe was also cheap--If he could save $5 a week on snacks, that's about $250 a year. If he got good at this, he could also save money elsewhere, like sneaking into the movie theater, or in sales negotiations. He thought of the other ways he could benefit himself here too--with the power to read the quarterback's mind, he would dominate his flag football beer league. He would be able to convince his boss to give him a raise and more time off. He'd know how everybody really felt about him, and could cater himself to be everybody's best friend. He can know exactly what everybody wants! Nobody would even know, he could keep it a secret and reap all the great benefits.\n\nBut for now, he needed to practice. At a small convenience store, a lazy and braindead cashier was an easy target. He went over to the cooler to grab a powerade---but there were none. Everything else was full, but the powerade all seemed to be out of stock. Strange, he thought, but he decided to skip it and went to the candy aisle. Again, all of the gummy worms were gone from the shelf. He grabbed the peach rings instead and stuffed them into his winter coat's inside pocket. He looked up at the cashier to see what she was thinking. \n\n\"PUT THEM BACK RIGHT NOW I'M NOT MESSING AROUND\"" ]	2
	[WP] You're a hacker who accidentally discovers the code for the simulation of our universe. You decide to make some changes.	[ "So I was browsing github repos when the internet went down and I looked at the wifi icon and it had to Gods network. I went to google and saw that there was still connectivity so said what the hell and kept on browsing. I'm not really one to give a fuck if people look at my history. So there was a new user u/TotallyNotGod that had thousands of repos. The dates of some of his commits did not make any sense, they mostly displayed as NAN errors and some of them went back thousnads of years. It was pretty strange.\n\nSo I saw one for /UniversalPhysics and started looking at the README.txt. Tag version 1.0. This are the basic laws for the universe. They concern the building blocks - quarks, photons, muons, and rules for interactions between the particles. Note that the this universe starts from the quantam level - with lazy loading for anything below the size of a proton. The position and size of very small particle use stastical models to allow simplified particle interactions.\n\nSo, I thought - the true randomness of quantam physics is a trick to save computational power. I had never been a fan of this beacuse as a systems engineer - I like to think that cause and effect binds all things together, but the math looked pretty complicated so I went onto another repo\n\n/Women - README.TXT - version 0.8. ... The hominoid female is created with a mind opaque to the male partener... I knew this much so far, so I stopped reading the readme and started looking into /Women/Sexuality folder. There were some pretty wierd flags and definately some legacy code in there. There was a flag DEV_TOGGLE_SHOULD_HAVE_THREE_NIPPLES = false. and DEV_TOGGLE_DOUBLE_UTERUS = false, and DEV_TOGGGLE_EXTERNAL_EGG_SACK = false. I thought the double uterus and external egg sacks we're pretty cool so I toggled the last two to true.\n\nAnd this, my broodlings is why I, as a male rub my penis against the upper edge of your mother's belly every day. It fertilizes the eggs that she carries around in her sternum sack. And young female ones, this is why you have several vestigal flaps in back of your urethral cavity. Now, my broodlings - enough of these scholastic questions - lets play some soccer, divide yourselves into 5 teams.", "The room was not very large. Perhaps five by five meters, and about half as high. The walls were covered in a drab but not unpleasant beige paint, or maybe that was the just the color of the material itself. One of them displayed a large, translucent square - a screen of sorts? Or strange art? Couldn't tell. The rest of walls were empty of any adornments. The ceiling was much the same: not even a light bulb hung from it, defying the medium illumination that filled the room. Strangely, there were no windows; there wasn't even a door.\n\nI hesitantly walked around, keeping my hands to myself but looking closely at every inch of the room. Nothing jumped out at me, or addressed me in any fashion; it was just me, alone in this strange room. I was beginning to feel a little panicky. I called out, maybe a little loudly, for someone to help me. I didn't understand where I was, how I got here and what this place even was.\n\nNothing answered my cries, not even my echoes. A shiver went down my spine as the sounds of my wavering voice were swallowed up by the room.\n\nStrange seemed to be the word on my mind that never left as little surprise after surprise revealed itself to me. I did not feel sleepy, thirsty or hungry - not even a little. In our day-to-day lives, we sometimes ignore the passive cries of our body; we tend to them when we're less busy or the need grows more urgent. But here, those desires, those needs of mine just ceased to be. \n\nI suddenly realized I had been pacing hard around the room. Forcing myself to stop, I closed my eyes and tried to pull myself together. There had to be a way out, or at least an explanation. I leaned an arm against a wall and tried to think. \n\nSuddenly, the wall began to shift form.\n\nI yelped and pulled back toward the center of the room. To my amazement, I watched as many little dials, switches and levers appeared all over the walls. All of them had inscriptions on them, words in some foreign alphabet; it looked like nothing I had ever seen before. Eventually, the activity ceased and the room became entirely still again, save for my twitching. I walked around, looking at the different devices that had somehow appeared into being. \n\nThen, the screen on the adjacent wall flickered on. \n\nMy eyes grew wide as I looked upon a myriad of stars and nebulae. Was it a galaxy of some sort? The shape didn't seem right. One bright, blurry point of light drew me closer, though I didn't know why; it did not particularly stand out among the rest. I reached out and tapped it, and the screen changed drastically, and the view began to zoom in on my finger. Soon, the Milky Way galaxy came into view. More tapping, and eventually I peered down at Earth itself. \n\nFor a while, nothing happened. I don't know long I stood there, switching between watching the screen and glancing at the other walls; it was impossible. But then suddenly, at some point, I felt overcome with an overwhelming sense of frustration; I resolutely grabbed the handle of circular dial, and shifted it counter-clockwise about 90 degrees. The symbol above the dial, shaped somewhat like a sea urchin, began to glow a faint red.\n\nLooking back at the image on the screen, I watched, astonished, as it began to...rewind. First, the moon seemed to pause, and then revolve in the opposite direction. The Earth itself reversed and began rotating toward its west side. I viewed this for some time, until curiosity pushed me to pull the dial further counter-clockwise, perhaps two full revolutions. Now, the effects were much more dramatic; the continents shifted, moving toward each other; meteors seemed to fly out of Earth in every direction; the color of the planet began to change as well, from the characteristic green, brown and blue to more reddish, yellowish colors. Eventually, the moon seemed to collapse onto Earth and the planet became much larger, and then much smaller, and smaller, until it was only so many large space rocks clumped together...\n\nFeeling my heart pound, I quickly reversed the direction of the Time dial and watched with some relief as the scenery reverted back to \"present day.\" I looked around, and found a lever on the opposite wall that seemed interesting. It looked heavy and old-fashioned, much like what one would see in 20th century ship engine control rooms. It even had several labels to which the lever could turn; granted, I could decipher none of the mysterious shapes. Shrugging, I pushed the lever from a symbol that looked almost like a capital S to one that was a mix between a Chinese character and a percent symbol. \n\nThe scenery on the screen changed - that is, not the content itself, but the way I viewed. Suddenly, I could see and comprehend every line connecting\nevery single particle displayed; the elongating curve as the Earth revolved around the sun, each minute clump of space debris enclosing the planet, and all the connection they all shared with each other. I glanced back at the lever; right underneath was a dial with the same large symbol engraved upon it. I turned it clockwise three full revolutions.\n\nEverything on the screen blew apart almost instantly. I somehow figured out how to zoom out, and watched in horrified fascination as the stars began to slow their revolution about the galactic core, the lines between them and the core and each other growing hair-thin. Shaking my head, I reversed the Gravitation dial and the galaxy winked back at me with its myriad stars settled back into place.\n\nI still had no idea why or how I was here, but I was beginning to get an idea for what this room could do. Looking around at all the devices in front of me, I decided that I had no option but to continue experimenting.\n____________________________________________________________\nLiked that? More stories [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Idreamofdragons/)!" ]	2
	[WP] An alien race has been observing humankind using undercover informants living a normal life to witness and partake in the human experience. An interview is about to be conducted with a lead sociologist and spy who has been observing earth life for 20+ years.	[ "Ever since he was captured, Tarju was wondering what he did wrong. For more than 20 years he was able to avoid being discovered. Somehow the humans managed to locate his last transmission and surround him in a matter of minutes. They must have known for some time, he thought. There was no other explanation. But how could they even locate his communication device? It was using gravitational waves to communicate over long distances. Humans didn't have the technology yet. Not that he was aware of.\n\nFor five days now humans were trying to figure out how to activate the communication device. Several people were entering the room were they locked Tarju in and questioned him. But one day it was different. Instead of one of those ridiculous looking Generals, it was a rather skinny person with big glasses entering the room. \"Hello. My name is Gregor Lewis. I'm a sociologist and i'm here to find out more about you and your thoughts.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's new.\", Tarju replied annoyed. \"Usually i get visits from Generals and Intelligence personal.\"\n\nLewis sighed. \"Yeah, i know. That's quite unfortunate. You're long enough on our planet, so you might know why they're so interested in you.\"\n\n\"I'm not giving them information about our weapons technology, even if i would know how it works. I'm not an engineer.\"\n\n\"You don't need to. The reason why i'm here is to find out what you're thinking about us.\"\n\nTarju looked quite surprised after hearing this. \"How so?\"\n\n\"Well, i guess you're reporting to your homeworld every now and then. I want to know what you told them about us. Hopefully only good stuff.\", Lewis winked. \"Since we now know that we're not alone, we would like to find out where we stand right now.\"\n\n\"Ok, fine. I guess i can do this.\" According to protocol Tarju was allowed to give information about his work and other things which are not weaponizeable. The reason for this was to achieve trust in case agents were captured by the observed species.\n\n\"Fine. So go on. What is your opinion on our culture?\"\n\n\"It's quite hard to say. Actually you are a pretty old species. You are around for more than 10000 years and built a civilization for only a fraction of this time. Still you have a very fragmented culture on this planet. It's only for the last few hundred years where you started to adjust for a global culture.\"\n\n\"So, we're late to the party? Is it that unusual?\"\n\n\"Yes, it is. Most other species we encountered managed to live mostly peacefully after about 1000 years of existence. At least those who survived technological advancement.\"\n\n\"Survived technological advancement? What do you mean by that?\" Lewis seemed a little uncomfortable about this.\n\n\"There are some civilizations that nuked themselves into extinction before they were able to advance culturally. You are one of those civilizations where we think it could happen at any time. Last time you nearly started a war because of a misunderstanding.\"\n\n\"You mean the cold war?\"\n\n\"Exactly.\", Tarju replied.\n\n\"What about now? We are in peace for several decades now. The sovjet union is dead.\"\n\nTarju sighed. Humans are very naive in his eyes. He wondered why he even agreed to the job as an undercover agent. \"You have several other nations with nuclear warheads. Some of them might be crazy enough to actually use them. Some of your most powerful countries even elected some very worrisome leaders.\"\n\n\"Do you think we have a chance of survival?\"\n\n\"Maybe. We know one other species that managed to survive their atomic age.\"\n\n\"Only one? I thought you knew more than that.\"\n\n\"Actually there are 12 known species right now. One of them is a natural species, meaning it evolved naturally on their planet. The other ones are either synthetic or genetic creations of an older species. They replaced their ancestors, since those got themselves extinct. We are one of those 'replacement species'.\"\n\n\"That sounds very depressing.\"\n\n\"I know. For the last 20 years i observed the human species. You have potential to achieve great things. But your biggest problem are your natural instincts. Due to your biological heritage you try to dominate other members of your own species. You build groups bigger and bigger and begin to call them countries. You select individuals due to their heritage, although you are genetically all the same.\"\n\n\"So what is your recommendation to the human race?\"\n\n\"Grow the fuck up.\"", "\"They're weak.\" The being once known as John Gallows sighed, staring down at his silver hands. For thirty years, Gallows had looked down at the pink, fleshy, weak hands of his human disguise and longed to see his true form once again. Now, though, that the moment was finally here... It seemed empty.\n\n\"Care to clarify, Agent 76?\" Gallows' overseer, the one lifeline he had to his true life during his assignment, suggested gently, furrowing her brows with concern. \"Your intermediary reports suggested nothing of the sort.\"\n\nGallows chuckled with amusement at their misunderstanding, a purely human expression that seemed to puzzle his interviewers. Right. Another habit to break. \"No, they didn't. What I reported to you then, the numbers, the weapons, the chemicals, the bombs, they told you that humanity is strong. Stronger than we had ever dared to hope, stronger than we had ever thought to fear. What I'm telling you now is that while humanity is strong, humans are weak.\"\n\nHe extended his palm and the finally deactivated sigil of transformation that was carved into him so many years ago. He was transfixed by the glint of the light reflecting off of it as he continued. \"Humans live, in a way, like we do. They love, they laugh, they war, and they endeavor to continue themselves. The difference, though, is the depth of those experiences. To us, life is...\" Gallows struggled to find the words, so long removed from his own people and language that it no longer came to him as naturally as it once did. \"Life is a game of wits, if you will, where the rules are defined, the enemy is death, and there are a thousand different ways to play. On the surface, it seems noble and messy, enlightened and breathtakingly free all at the same time. Honestly, it probably is.\"\n\nGallows leaned forward, resting his pointed fingertips on the metal table, tapping them slowly. \"Humans, though? To them, our game is nothing. If we're playing checkers against Death, they are playing monopoly against Oblivion, in a game where the rules are decided by the players, and there are a hundred thousand, a million a billion ways to play and win and lose and rise and fall, and none of it matters, because in the end, you beat the enemy just by playing. There are no risks that are never worth taking, to a human, because everything that you do is worth it.\"\n\n\"When a human loves, truly, it's as though their entire being is yearning for their lover. They will put everything they have in the hands of another, and allow them to control it. When a human laughs the way I've seen them laugh, it's their entire soul behind the sounds. There is no caution in it, no wariness. They truly allow themselves to bask in the warmth of their laughs.\"\n\nGallows- No, Agent 76. I'm Agent 76, now- leaned back, carefully watching the confused faces of his interviewers. \"Where it gets interesting, though, isn't when humans love, or laugh. It's when they war.\" He scowled, closing his eyes and trying to suppress the memories of the travesties he had seen. \"You know their prowess, the weapons they've developed to fight their own kind. We all know it's terrible, but... The humans? The humans, who put their whole being into love, their soul into laughter?\" He allowed himself to echo his statement with a short, mirthless laugh of his own. \"They've put their whole damn species into war. Humans have a saying- 'an eye for an eye.' It means that if you take something from them, then they'll taking something back. To us, revenge is a concept, a term ill-used outside fantasy novels. To them, it's a lifestyle. They will kill each other over the slightest faults, and create a conflict that spans hundreds of generations. They will insult one another, and rip apart families, communities, nations just to prove themselves right in a war of the mind. Every human, every damn one, is a creature of war. They preach peace, but their words spit venom, they claim to walk without harm, but then they heal and tend to the wounded of another's war. Do you understand what I'm saying? Humans will abandon peace the moment, the exact instant they fail to see it as serving their purposes. War is so ingrained in their being, that they do not see healing as an act of war.\"\n\n\"How does this make humans weak?\" Salur Renth, his overseer, blurted out, interrupting him. For a moment, he was frustrated, but remembered that he wasn't supposed to be human anymore. \"What you seem to be saying is that they're a people of war- How is that weakness?\"\n\n\"Because when they war, it is without cease. They will sacrifice as many of their own people as they must, for nothing more than a symbol. Humans are weak, because to war with a human is to watch them die in vain, again and again, for eternity, because they know that every wall has its cracks, and damn it, they always find a way. Always. They broke the atom, Renth. They flew to the stars without graviton manipulation, by setting off explosions beneath them and praying that it worked. They deliberately created dozens of particle accelerators, massive ones, out of nothing but curiosity.\"\n\nAgent 76 sighed, the luster of his silver skin having lost its appeal. He leaned back in his chair again, staring at the ceiling for a quiet moment before continuing.\n\n\"Humanity is weak because it is strong, and strong because it is weak. If they ever thought, for even a moment, that we were attempting to control them, we would die. It may not be in the first war, but perhaps in the second war of revenge they incite, or the third, or the fourth. We would lose, and so would they.\"\n\n\"Humanity always loses, and they would cheer as their planet burns because they know ours would be burning too.\"" ]	2
	[WP] You've never seen anybody open that door at work. Today, you decide you want to find out what's inside.	[ "It was a sunday morning. everything was quiet at the office. I have worked there for 5 years, and not once have I seen the inside of that place. I tried talking to my boss, he said dont worry. today, though, I decided to see what was inside. \n\nI opened the door. \n\nI got on the floor.\n\neverybody walked the dinosaur." ]	1
	[WP] You're singing in the shower. You step out to dry, only to see a huge crowd giving a standing ovation, four enthusiastic judges applauding you, and the words 'American Idol' all over the place.	[ "There I was, singing that song once again, god I loved it, the high notes weren't that bad, I reached them easily, matching the tneor in the recording, I finally but the water off, and stepped outside the shower, a cacophony of loud whistling cheering, and people yelling my name almost in extasy stunned me, an announcer said ''Well, that was our last contestant with a very big surprise for all of us, ladies and gentlemen now, let's hear ourd judges...''" ]	1
	[WP] You are an astronaut on a long term assignment on the moon. Suddenly a radio message informs you that earth is being attacked by an unknown alien threat and already it seams that humanity is doomed. All you can do is watch and listen as you become the last of your species.	[ "I always found it odd that I was the only one on this long mission. They insisted that it was a one man job, but with all this work up here, it seemed like I could've used a couple more able bodies. That, and I was starting to get lonely up here. I stood outside of the rocket and looked back at earth. It looked so peaceful, yet it reminded me of how small and insignificant we all are in the universe. I moonwalked (just walking on the moon. Not the dance) back to the shuttle to rest up. Up in space, I had no idea if it was night or day, all I knew was that I was tired. Once in the shuttle, I took off my space suit and set it aside. I slumped over to my cot and rested my eyes for a bit. Only minutes after this was when I heard the radio. \"Operation lone moon, this is Houston.\" I sat up and ran over to the radio and grabbed the comm. \"Aren't I supposed to be contacting you guys for problems?\" I joked. He clearly wasn't in the mood. \"This is serious, we are under attack by an unknown enemy. No one us saying it... but we believe they are aliens from a distant planet. We aren't sure if we can get you down but....\" He screamed and I heard disturbing growling noises from the other side. \"Sir?! Are you there?! Sir?!\" There was no response. I heard other screams along with louder growling. I couldn't do anything from here. I had to think of something I could do. The screaming wouldn't stop. And those growls.... they were the fuel for nightmares. I raced to the cockpit of the rocket and fumbled with some switches, trying to make it work. Soon, it was ready. I didn't know what I could do for the human race, but I was not going to sit here and listen to them die. The radio still played screaming and growls for the entire ride back to earth. I managed to land my rocket by HQ and it looked almost untouched. I burst through the doors of the command center and saw everyone there celebrating. On the wall there was a banner, showing them celebrating getting rid of the most annoying astronaut ever. ", "Sgt. Anderson floated with his crew, ears bolted to the radio, as a distorted voice, strangled by static, announced that a catastrophe had happened. One unlike any other seen on earth. As soon as the message rang out in every language on the planet (including Morse code), the crew of what would have been the final trip to the moon humanity would take leaped out of the landing pod, tripping over eachother's bulky suits and bouncing comically on the lunar surface, like marshmallows pumped full of helium. \n\nThere it was, that beautiful blue and green marble suspended on a sheet of inky blackness, our sun shining a brutal light, showing every visceral detail. A gigantic monstrous entity floated towards their native planet, bringing some member's stomachs to the edge. \n\nIt looked like nothing anyone had seen. A gigantic blob of what looked like...skin?, easily twice the size of our planet glided gracefully towards the celestial body. The being was covered in gigantic eyes and organs, with two impossibly large mouths on each end, lined with human molars. \n\nAs the thing began to devour the earth, the crew, once in a cacophony of panic, even resulting in a physical altercation, grew silent. These men and women, in a matter of hours, will become the loneliest human beings in all the impossible vastness of the cosmos. Fear had not gripped them yet, that would come with days of surviving with limited air, food and water. No, all that they felt now was the indescribably solemn empathy that can only be experienced by a species watching itself be destroyed. \n\nThey all stood up together. Said nothing. They headed back inside to the pod, checking their life support. Twelve days. Two hundred and eighty eight hours of breathable air.\n\nAnderson sighed, went and found his secret stash of whisky and cards, and dealt them amongst his crew. It was going to be a long twelve days." ]	2
	[WP] Each alien species specializes in one particular field of study. There's a planet of great logicians, warlords, artists, librarians, etc with the best being the supreme leader. Earth has no specialty, and is home to many great experts in many fields. This frightens and upsets the aliens.	[ "A very uncool space-faring flagship parked itself close to the coast. I was standing barefoot, wearing nothing but the tightest speedos money can buy and a silk cape fit for a king, some 20 meters away from the waves. Besides me, an army. The cruelest one that has walked the earth. It was my dream to create the kind of horde that'd make the great Khan himself salivate. Survivors of a hundred battles, guilty of every inhuman crime. They have faced many strong enemies, but they themselves are beyond strength. Their feats have spread across the galaxy, I've made damn well certain of it..\n\nThis is all a farce.\n\nHere I see them open wide, the tackiest doors I've ever seen in my life. Even from here I could hear a complex orchestra of sounds, all coming from the ship. Even today the mysteries of space faring-ships elude us. I could hears the whomp whomp from the ventral tau particle array, the shaka shaka from the biogenic power converter, the fomp fomp that indicated the re-modulation of the nanowave quark accelerator, and many other-worldly sounds probably coming from even crazier techno-babble! A ramp, slowly, oh so slowly crawling and making way for my dearest guests. Three shadows waited for the ramp to be done, and then they came—the three aspects of restraint. Three high level officers from the Galactic Semi-Authoritarian Illiberal Kritarchy.\n\nI can feel myself choking.\n\nArmed to whatever is their equivalent of teeth they come. Oh yes please, fear me more. The three aspects are surrounded by each by four Eleanor Infiltrators, the most accomplished Spec Ops body in the galaxy. Their captain I recognize, a man now known as Sir Thimble Knight of Onions—a rapper thought to be dead who defected the human cause. Scum may he be, but he is a man of many talents and more importantly, easy to bribe.\n\nHugo, the second aspect, steps forward. An imposing fellow that would tower over the tallest man. As he reaches for his space iPad I catch a glimpse of his personal shield generator. Cheeky. He's nervous, they all are. The guards might hide it well but I can feel their fear. Luckily, they're too unfamiliar with human face tells to realize that I'm pissing my pants.\n\nHugo begins, with what I can only assume is their equivalent of a solemn voice, \"Fido, semi-supreme leader of the Galactic Semi-Authoritarian Illiberal Kritarchy, protector of worlds, has authorized me to engage in diplomatic relations with the human known as the Sand Emperor.\" He puts away his space iPad. \"Shall we continue this diplomatic mission in your breeding grounds?\" I can only hope that last part was some sort of translation error.\n\nI notice that he's looking behind me. I can almost feel his fear (I'm feeling fear myself) as he gazes upon my magnum opus: an exact 1:1 replica of Darth Father's castle—complete with torture chambers—made entirely from sand! The largest tourist attraction in all of western Cascais, and Europe! Ah yes, tremble you fool! The 501'st platoon has you on their sandy sights!\n\nTo enter my humble abode is probably customary diplomatic proceedings, ones he would normally not evade, for I can see that he doesn't actually want to go inside. I'm not surprised, for the Fortress of Wailing would be his doom! Had it not be made entirely out of sand that is. I simply can't allow them inside. Luckily, there's an easy way out. I signal their captain.\n\nThey quickly exchange a few words. They grew more nervous than before. The Onion Knight should be explaining how my fortress is a security death trap and merely going in is tantamount suicide. They nervously glance at my sand army.\n\nI step forward and adjust my speedo. \"I'd rather get this done quickly, I have worlds to conquer.\" Ugly pause. \"My proposal is this: let the Galactic Semi-Authoritarian Illiberal Kritarchy leave this corner of the galaxy alone. Focus their expansionist terraforming and colonizing efforts east. Focus your military north to deal with the Muppet fleets that lay waste to your core industrial worlds. You will benefit a lot from not adding another front to this war, eh? After all, your southern trade routes are oh so vulnerable...\" I casually glance at my legion, as if they were not secretly made of sand.\n\nThe three aspects have a quick meeting. I can tell they already want to leave. I spread a lot of rumors about how I normally treat envoys... Besides, my proposal does not inconvenience them at all. What I suggested was already going to be implemented as their organization's policy for the next few decades. The Onion Knight is surprisingly talkative for someone that was supposed to have abandoned humanity.\n\n\"This is acceptable. We shall deal with the specifics later. We are almost done developing a protocol that would allow our technologies to communicate.\" He bows.\n\nThe alien delegation begins to leave. As they board the ship, the Onion Knight looks back. I could swear I saw him wink. The ships flies away. This should hopefully buy humanity enough time to be ready when the eye of Fido looks back with greed at this poor blue marble.\n\nSpeedo man saves the day once again.", "Going at 0.999c in a relatively crowded neighborhood, I whizzed by hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of planets on my way to the one. And a good 5-10% hosted a myriad of alien life forms, each with their own specialty:\n\nOrdovans, the slimy (physically, not personality-wise) and brilliant detectives of the Milky Way. A veritable planet full of Sherlock Holmes and Auguste Dupins;\n\nThe Lopoineli, well-known for their incredible cold fusion engines that looked like works of art;\n\nSpeaking of art, not a race in the Galaxy could marvel the brushstrokes painted by one of the Koorodello, who paint in all the colors of the electromagnetic spectrum;\n\nAnd of course, the more 'unusually' talented ones, like Waak, who reigned supreme in the ability to create chocolate-based cold desserts.\n\n\nIt was one of these latter types I was interested in, and it wasn't long before my ship began to decelerate into the orbit of a large, greyish-brown planet called Miduu. Mostly unremarkable, really - rocky surface, a couple of small moons, stable magnetosphere, etc. But it was the Miduu (now I'm talking about dominant species on the planet; confusingly enough, they've remained adamant in keeping the name of their planet and their species the same word) that interested me. Specifically, what they were known for. And as I banked down into their upper atmphospheric highway, my heart swelled with happiness as my wildest dreams came true:\n\nPurple, pink, lime-green, beige, spotted, sandy, smooth, gritty, cigar-shaped, rubbery, velvety, slippery, grainy, metallic, matte, globular, crystalline, hairy, bowl, wide-brimmed, 10/25/45-gallon - every single type I could've ever imagined, all made by the galaxy's foremost experts on the subject, all in one place.\n\nI had the biggest grin on my face as I set my ship down for the first time on the literal [Planet of Hats](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/PlanetOfHats).\n\n_______________________________________\nLiked that? More stories [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Idreamofdragons/)!\n", "\"I'm telling you, something must be done! They are advancing too quickly. A race needs societal development to match technological.\" The delegate from Anans slammed two of his hands on the desk in front of him. \n\n\"What can we do? They haven't caused any issues, they just don't happen to be specialized in the way that we are. Any preemptive attack would be cruelty on our parts.\" \n\nThe Chief from Barroom stood, rattling the entire circular table. \"Typical Braing cowardice! We must hit first, and hit hard. The closer these Earthlings get to advanced space travel, the more dire the situation becomes! Give me clearance to attack and even the Grand Historians won't remember them.\"\n\nThe Chairmen of meeting sounded his gavel and brought quiet back to the room. He looked around at the leaders of the various Senate Planets and sighed. \"The Earthlings may yet become a problem, but until they do we must stay our hands, otherwise, we are no more evolved than they.\" \n\nThe representative from Botan sat back in his chair and squinted at his sketch pad. The Senate would be mad that he was once again straying from photo-realism, but the emotions surging in the room could be captured much more effectively with a little abstraction. With another glance around the room, he dipped his pen into his ink gland and went back at it. He laughed as he drew stink lines around the Chairman and wondered if artists on Earth had to deal with the same derision that he did. ", " “But the potential is there.” \n “Come on, Quorb, you know it’s meaningless, look at the majority; bumbling Baffions not smart enough to understand intergalactic politics.” \n “Ok but how many of them since their beginning could be Werklers? Juhibins? Hell, a few could even pass for Garbinsians!” \n“Ok maybe one or two could pass for a Garbinsian, but most wouldn’t even be mistaken for Alphites.” \n“Dude! My wife is an Alphite.” \n“Well, she’d make a rather dull Earthling” \n \nIt was then that Quorb could no longer control his inner Halzzinian. He lifted up his Kallamatwang, and gestinitated Frank. Knowing the OOOOOOmas would soon be after him, he went home, kissed his wife, and put a feejer in his jauf. \n" ]	4
	[WP] In a world where parents can customize their children's appearance, everyone is beautiful... Except for you.	[ "For this story to make sense, you need to know two things about my great-great-great grandfather: he was president (the greatest one that there ever was, as a matter of fact), and he was not that good looking. By today's standards most people would consider him hideous, and therefore they do me. \n\nYou see, my great-great-great grandfather was Donald J. Trump, and my idiot parents decided to make me look exactly like him. If people knew their fucking history (which they fucking don't, apparently), I would have one pretty recognizable face. Loads of families decide to make their children look like their ancestors, too, so if that were true I don't think my situation would be that weird. \n\nBut, people aren't that way, so here I am stuck with a face that everyone dislikes. Everyone except my idiot parents, that is.", "\"Well... Today will be the most miserable day of the rest of my life.\" I thought as I climbed in to the back seat of my mother's station wagon. Yeah, today was going to be the first day of school and I knew I would be made fun of left and right for being different. My family kept assuring me that everything would be fine but how could it be? Everyone would be there, with their long blonde hair, deep and bright blue and green eyes, no freckles, no brown eyes, no frilly dark hair. I didn't have many friends and I sure wasn't expecting to make any new ones. I knew I was ugly, everywhere I went with my mother people would stare in silence and awe at my appearance. Especially since my whole family was normal except for me.\n\n\"I REALLY don't wanna go!\" I exclaimed to my mother as we headed off. \"Relax sweety pie,\" she said, \"You'll make plenty of new friends today and it'll all be alright.\" \n\"But mooommm...\"\n\"That's enough Daniel, you will be just fine.\"\nShe tuned the radio to my favorite station and we rode to the school. We arrived there a few minutes after and pulled to the front gate where all the children where funneling in through the front doors.\n\"Now you have a great day sweety, your lunch is in the backpack, it's your favorite, Nutella and banana, no crust. I will be waiting right here for you when school is over.\" She took off her seat belt and leaned back to give me a peck on the cheek before I headed out. I got out of the car and almost immediately children, parents and teachers all turned their attention to me. I had never felt so insecure and isolated in my short, miserable little life. A part of me wanted to break down and cry right there. \"I just can't do this!\" I thought. I turned around to run back to my mother's car as she pulled away but as I turned I felt a small, soft and warm hand grab me.\n\nI turned my head to find that a girl my age with beautiful 'qualities' had grabbed my hand and was now looking straight into my eyes and I into hers. I had no idea what to say but what followed next made my first day of school the best experience of my life. She said \"Hi, my name is S'mantha\" and she smiled. \"Daniel\" I replied \"My name is Daniel.\"\nSamantha's smile grew brighter, revealing a set of incomplete teeth and I noticed that the other children were all now heading towards me. \n\n\"Wow!\" said one of the beautiful blue eyed children, as more followed with the same awe and amazement that I had seen in Samantha's face. \"He's so..so.. cool!\" said another boy. \"Where did you get your hair?\", \"What's your name?!\", \"You're pretty!\" They all continued as they barraged me with questions and compliments. And then the bell rung. My spirit went from being crushed to being overly flattered as we all went inside for our first day of school. I finished out the rest of my school day with every one of my classmates looking back at me and either smiling or waving for most of the day. Samantha sat next to me the whole time and even drew a smiley face on my paper when we drew some doodles. I left school and headed for the gate where my mother was waiting for me outside the car with a huge smile on her face and a little juice box for me. We hugged and when she asked me how my day had gone all I could say was \"Thanks mom, you made me the coolest!\"" ]	2
	[WP] People can sell any soul they come into possesion of to The Devil. Because of this serial killers work very closely with him. You are a serial killer going in for your monthly report.	[ "\"So, let's see what we have here,\" Satan said, opened up your folder and took out the piece of paper titled 'January'. Being a professional serial killer wasn't that much more eventful than being just a regular serial killer. It only meant Satan paid you for what you did. You gave him the souls of your victims, he gave you a good amount of cash. Pretty simple really, the extra benefits didn't bring any extra risk. Or so I thought. Satan himself turned out to be a pretty cool guy, not the terrifying goatlike creature most people thought him to be. If outstanders saw him on the street they would see a middle-aged man in a suit and think nothing weird of it. Not that he ever left his office.\n\nThis had been a good month. I had killed nine people, when I averaged about 4 people in other months. For some reason, people were easier to take out in January than during other months. Must've got something to do with the cold weather. Satan had been examining my report for a while now, looking at the pictures I attached.\n\"One's missing\"\n\"excuse me?\" I didn't understand what could be missing, as I had made sure all the papers were in order before coming do Satans office.\n\"You heard what I said. It says here you killed nine victims, but only eight souls are attached.\"\n\"Wait, what? I don't even know how I-\"\n\"Oh I'm sure you know how. We had a deal mister Finch. You sell your souls to me, and to nobody else, understand? Now tell me, what other demon have you sold this soul to? Was it Belial? I I find out you've been selling to that crackhead I'll-\"\nSatans rant was interrupted by the door slamming open and his son Diablo came running in.\n\"Dad, mister Rotten is at the door. He- he says he has urgent matters to discuss,\" he panted.\nSatan smiled at the mention of world's greatest villain, one of his frequent customers.\n\"Tell him to wait a bit in the hall Dibbles, I've got something else to handle before I can see him.\"\n\"I told you not to call me that father.\"\n\"Whatever. Just go,\" Satan demanded.\n\"As you wish.\"\nI felt bad for the guy. Rotten had acquired quite a reputation on the internet over the years, and I could imagine the world's greatest villain didn't like to wait around all too much.\n\"It's simple Finch,\" Satan said, \"you have two weeks to get me that soul, or I'll have to take your own soul as compensation.\"\nI swallowed. Losing my soul? I'd rather lose my internet access!\n\"But, but how? How do I even know what soul I missed? Where do I have to look?\"\n\"You have access to the database, mr. Finch. Good luck.\" Satan said, and before I noticed it I was teleported away to my house.\n\nThe next day I sat down in front of my computer and opened the database. Figuring out which soul was missing shouldn't be too hard, I thought. I just had to look which soul belonged to which picture, and one would be left over. I knew that the picture of the asian guy with the scar on his cheek belonged to Vincent Ming, and the blonde girl with glasses was Lisa Jones. I didn't know who all my victims were though, so finding those took a bit longer, but eventually only a picture of a young woman with long black hair was left over. Killing her hadn't been too difficult, it was kind of easy really. I didn't feel guilt, it was my job after all. If anything, it had been her fault for walking alone in that dark alley at 3 AM. I had no idea who she was though.\n\nUsing my amazing stalki- I mean hacking skills I soon found about 3 girls from the city that looked like her on Facebook. One had been inactive for a few years now, so she was either dead or didn't look like this anymore. Another had posted about cutting her hair about a week before the murder took place, so it could not have been her either. That left only one girl, Holly Banks. How would I find her corpse again though? Surely she was either buried or cremated by now. Distracted thinking about how I could get her soul to sell to Satan before it was too late, I scrolled up a bit on her page. When I looked at the screen again, I was scared stiff by the selfies I saw. These pictures were a bit older, and apparently she hadn't died her hair here.\n\nHolly Banks was a ginger.\n" ]	1
	[WP] A person has the ability to display his thoughts onto sheets of paper at will.	[ "Magneto stood over the fallen X-Men corpses, gradually lowering himself towards Charles Xavier who lay on the floor, bloody and beaten.\n\n“Are you happy Charles? Are you happy with what you have achieved, here? Dead mutants on both sides, the blood on your hands.” said Magneto, as he landed gracefully next to Xavier. He picked him up off the floor and brought Charles’ face close to his own. “This is your defeat, Charles. I want you to remember every last second of how it transpired.”\n\nXavier began to laugh, blood trickling down his chin. “You think this is over, old friend?”\n\nMagneto released his grip and Xavier’s body collapsed to the floor. “I don’t have time for a philosophical lesson on how we will always be fighting this war, Charles.”\n\n“I’m not talking about the war, I’m talking about this battle,” said Xavier, beginning to laugh. “Cyclops, the door! Now!” he shouted.\n\nA beam of light smashed in to the side of the X-Jet, ripping a whole in the side of the wall. Cyclops fell back to the floor, exhausted after using what appeared to be the last ounce of energy he had. \n\n“No, Charles!” screamed Jean, as she failed to pick herself up off the floor. “He fucking sucks, Charles.”\n\n“You must believe, Jean,” said Charles, smiling. \n\nOut walked a normal looking man in a white onesie. He almost looked lost. He peered over the battlefield as he walked over to Xavier and Magneto.\n\n“This? This is your secret weapon, Charles?” asked Magneto, eyeballing the man while wondering what sort of power he was harbouring. \n\nA blank piece of paper materialised above Magneto and fell in to his hands.\n\n“Yes, old friend. This is my secret weapon.”\n\nMagneto looked down towards the blank piece of A4 paper as words began to appear.\n\nYour name sounds like something someone who couldn’t speak Spanish would come up with when sarcastically guessing the word for magnet in Spanish.\n\nMagneto looked back at Xavier and then glared at the man. “Why would you say such a thing? Who are you?”\n\n“Look back at the paper, Erik,” said Charles. “I don’t think you’ll like what it says.”\n\nMagneto watched as the page returned to being blank only for words to once again formulate in front of him.\n\nYour only real friend is a guy in wheelchair who you routinely try to kill.\n\n“What is going on, here?” asked Magneto, looking around trying to make sense of the situation.\n\n“Isn’t he super mean, Erik? He’s the meanest mutant I have ever encountered. When we first met, he handed me a piece of paper stating I was his new favourite vegetable.”\n\nWith a bewildered look on his face, Magneto dropped the piece of paper to the floor. “Why the fuck have you kept this guy around?”\n\n“Nobody knows,” shouted Beast, who had managed to prop his body up against the rubble around him. “He’s the fucking worst.”\n\n“Hands down the worst power I’ve ever seen,” added Jean.\n\n“Charles keeps telling us how we need to believe but every time I see this man at the mansion he hands me a piece of paper with ‘U HAIRY FUCK’ written on it,” said Beast.\n\n“This has confused me tremendously,” said Magneto, still unable to make any sense from what was happening.\n\n“You are close to defeat, Erik, I can feel it. Call this off now and I promise you will never receive another piece of A4 paper with something super mean written on it ever again,” proposed Xavier.\n\nAn iron girder descended from the sky on the head of the white onesie A4 wielding man, instantly crushing him to death.\n\n“What have you done, Erik?!” exclaimed Xavier. “He was the chosen one!”\n\n“Actually, that wasn’t me. Beast threw that.”\n\n****\n\nI write shitty, silly stories on /r/BillMurrayMovies. Feel free to come along, not laugh at any of them and leave some judgement.\n" ]	1
	[WP] Ever since you started play Dark Souls 3, you have played games slowly and cautiously..... Even the ones that should not be played slowly and cautiously.	[ "\"It's the worst case I've ever seen,\" Nurse Umbra of the Gaming Recovery Institute said. Her eyes were drawn down with the weight of her concern, her lips on the verge of shaking, and her hands gesticulated each word. \"We must get Brian well soon, doctor.\"\n\n\"Yes, hmmm,\" Dr. Grier mumbled, staring down at the medical report. He was the most renowned medical expert on gaming in the world. He had handled cases that involved addiction, fear of gaming, the dreadful Tetris effect, and more. \"I...Dark Souls 3, eh? Going too slow...can't play games normally anymore....hmmm, and how has he been with Mario Kart?\"\n\n\"We've given him Mario Kart 64 on 50cc to play, but still, he crawls at a pace that brings anyone he plays with to outbursts of frustrated tears! Oh, doctor!\"\n\n\"Calm down, my dear, calm down now. Surely it isn't the worst case I've seen. I'll see him this afternoon, after my golf appointment.\"\n\n\"But doc--\"\n\n\"This afternoon, Nurse.\"\n\n\"Yes, doctor.\"\n\n****\n\n\"Hey, Brian,\" Greg, Brian's best friend since kindergarten, said to Brian. Greg stood behind Brian in the hospital room, as the latter stared at the TV screen and paused Soul Caliber II between each move. They were both juniors in high school, ready to see the world without yet understanding it (as though anyone ever truly does). \"Jess told me to say hi.\"\n\nBrian didn't acknowledge his friend. He only stared at the screen.\n\n\"I never did beat Dark Souls 3, you know.\"\n\n\"Don't...\" Brian began, knuckles turning white as he gripped the shaking controller, \"...don't say that name.\"\n\n\"It's just that we all miss you at school, okay?\" Greg inhaled to speak again, but Brian hadn't turned around at all. Soul Caliber II switched between being paused and unpaused, paused and unpaused, paused and unpaused. \"Can't you just...just stop pausing the game, okay?! I mean dammit, you have it on easy mode!\"\n\n\"Go.\"\n\n\"Brian, I didn't mean--\"\n\n\"Just go.\"\n\nGreg sighed and left the room.\n\n**\n\n\"Hello, Brian,\" Dr. Grier said to his patient of the past two weeks. Brian played a multiplayer match of Halo:Reach against some NPCs. \"I want to try something different today.\"\n\n\"Different?\" Brian said, without turning around. His avatar hid behind a box in a tunnel, watching two of the NPCs fight each other. \"Like?\"\n\n\"I want you to write a story as fast as you can, without stopping for anything at all.\" Dr. Grier offered him a pen and a few sheets of paper. Brian ignored it, so the doctor left the items on a table in the corner of the room. \"I'll just leave it there.\"\n\nBrian waited until the NPCs were done fighting, then rushed out and killed the one remaining with reduced health. The thrill he got from rushing out forced the breath from his lungs, and he gasped. Another NPC rushed out and killed him, and he sighed. \n\nThe pen and paper on the desk waited for him. Brian stood, and walked toward the corner of the room.\n\n*\n\nBrian walked in through the front door of his house. All of his friends, siblings (even his brother who should have been away at college), and a few neighbors were there. \"Welcome home, Brian!\" everyone shouted and cheered as he walked in the door. The smile on his face could not have been wider.\n\n\"I'm back, everyone!\" Brian said. \"The writing therapy really helped.\"\n\n\"What game do you want to play?\" Greg asked.\n\n\"Wanna start off with something nice and easy, like Yoshi's Wooly World?\" his brother said.\n\n\"I brought Guitar Hero, we can do a slower song,\" Jess said.\n\nBrian held up his hand, and everyone waited for him to speak. \"How about...Dark Souls 3?\" Brian asked, and everyone laughed and cheered his recovery.\n\n***\n\nThanks for reading! Be sure to check out some more at r/arcaldwell!" ]	1
	[WP] A genie visits on the night of everybody's 18th birthday, but rather than granting a wish, they ask a 'Would You Rather' question. Some people are luckier than others...	[ "Everyone was waiting in anticipation, the day that could make or break my life. It was the day before my 18th birthday, 11:59 PM.\n\n\"Dude don't be so worried, what's the worst that can happen?\" My billionaire friend, Dan, asked. \n\nEasy for him to say though, his question was to be a billionaire or to get a really nice hat, what kind of question is that? He doesn't have to deal with what my sister did, she was cursed to speak only in rhymes. It was either that or surfer talk. Or what my mom had to do, kill her pets or kill her best friend.\n\nSo yeah, I'm not psyched for the whole thing. I spent hours on WouldYouRather.com 'studying' and quite frankly I'm done with would you rather questions and I just want to get this over with as fast as possible.\n\nThe clock ticked past 11:59 pm and to midnight, a green glow rose up from the table, forming the shape of a ghastly man, snickering to himself. As he opened his mouth to give me the choice of a lifetime I prayed that I would get good choices.\n\nWhatever god I prayed to didn't listen however. I listened and heard the hardest most debated, most unanswerable question in all of history.\n\n\"Would you rather fight a horse sized duck or 100 duck sized horses?\"\n\n\n(First time doing this, I'm on mobile so the format probably sucks, also sorta short, hope you liked it, just gonna post this before I change my mind.)" ]	1
	[WP] A young Mary Sue-like protagonist is told by the Elders they are the Chosen One and must fulfill their Destiny. They die in their first test of battle. Write what happens next, either good or bad.	[ "The priest panted as he reached the glade. \nHe saw Lyla's corpse, freshly mauled by the damned, among the slain.\n\nHe began to weep.\n\nThe remaining warriors looked at him, shocked at his outburst.\n\n\"Whas a matta? She'll come back soon, we have!\" Said a man, as a spear was removed from his stomach.\n\n\"No\" said the priest \"the Elders gave up. She IS the herald. Not of life, but of death. With her gone... the way to the afterlife is open again. We will all have to be more careful.\"\n\n---------\nStory 2 (super short)\n\nRagik turned to his sister, they followed their friend into battle, only to watch her fall.\n\n\"See, I told you the Elders are senile.\"", "\"Apparently the Elders are full of shit,\" said Nork, looking down at the body of his fallen fellow fighter.\n\n\"Indeed,\" said Nepa, the only other one of their group left alive.\n\nThe two of them were hunkered down in a crater on a desert planet far away from home. They also happened to be surrounded by corpses. Twelve corpses, to be exact. The battle had been as deadly as it had been brief. They had spotted some of the enemy's units flying by overhead. Casp had ordered them to fire.\n\n\"It's a one in a million shot, but it just might work,\" he had said, or something to that effect.\n\nThey had missed of course, but they had managed to draw the attention of the enemy. The flying squadron fired off three smart missiles at them without changing their course, almost as an afterthought. They had been so close together in the crater, however, that a full dozen were killed.\n\n\"The thing about one in a million shots,\" said Nepa reflectively, \"is that they don't work 999 999 out of a million times.\"\n\nNork nodded. \"Basic probability. So if Casp was destined to win the war, does that mean that we've lost it now that he's dead?\"\n\n\"Here's the thing,\" said Nepa, \"before the humans came to Dafafa, to tell us about this gigantic war they were fighting, and enlist our help, we hadn't properly realized how big the universe really is. A hundred billion stars in the galaxy. Billions of galaxies. Even when Grafak counted all the stars she could see, she didn't realize that those two thousand points of light were entire solar systems; many with their own alien species on them. She didn't know about the humans or the Goroblaxans, or the thousands of other sentient species in the Orion arm.\n\n\"What I'm saying is, why should our planet, little Dafafa, be the one whose tiny contribution of a Chosen One and thirteen grunts to the War of a Million Planets should be the deciding factor in that war? Why should we expect our Elders to be able to find the truth by looking inwards, when the Elders on a million other worlds claim that they can do the same, and all come up with different answers. What I'm saying is, maybe this whole Chosen One business is a superstition, because one single person, no matter how great a warrior on Dafafa, is no match for the combined technological efforts of thousands of societies.\"\n\n\"Hmm,\" said Nork, looking thoughtful, \"or perhaps shooting those missiles at us delayed that squadron for a critical instant of time, that will prove to be decisive in future battles, and eventually the whole war. Maybe Casp's genius was such was that he won the whole war this very day by his noble self sacrifice.\"\n\n\"That is what they will say back home, at least,\" said Nepa, \"now how do we get off this planet? Our ship has been completely destroyed.\"\n\n\"Start walking,\" said Nork.\n\nSo they covered the bodies with sand as best they could, and started walking." ]	2
	[WP] The government has successfully created a replicable serum that grants super powers. However, they have deemed the role of super hero to be a public office; if you want to be a super hero, you must be successfully nominated in a public election.	[ "2025, 6 years since U.S President Donald Trump announced that he'd created a vaccine granting the user a temporary power specific to the user. \n\nPresident Trump decided that this serum should be only given to those in charge of the U.S and it's close allies, giving himself an advantage over Russia whilst also allowing himself to use it. \n\nPresident Trump was first to be granted powers, he gained the ability to grow and shrink at his own will, thankfully the American public voted him out a year later and his power was good for nothing more than allowing him to finish his term with really big hands. \n\nSecond to be gifted powers was British Prime Minister Jeremy Corbyn who gained the ability to explode his body at will without taking damage, releasing massive amounts of energy, much like a nuclear blast, this allowed him to close Britain's nuclear defense program (Trident) as he's always wanted, earning him the name Trident Man.\n\nThose in charge of Canada, Mexico, Germany, France, Japan, Australia and South Korea were next, which angered Vladimir Putin and sparked Russia's race to replicate the serum. \n\nAs of 2024 U.S President Dwayne \"Captain America\" Johnson was elected for his second term, mostly accredited to him single handedly removing Boko Haram from West Africa, he extended this list of superpowers to 14 nations. By this point Russia allied with China, North Korea and a few other nations to test out it's own \"Vaktsina Yarost\", a vaccine which has similar effects to Trumpinol™ but with violent side effects. \n\n\nWill carry on at some point if anyone is interested, apologies for poor writing ability or grammar." ]	1
	[WP] Rome Never Fell, They just moved to Mars	[ "\"Schiaparelli was the first to discover life on Mars, who knew what would be behind that little patch of green on the Northern hemisphere of the planet...\"\n\nThe classroom shook scaring the impoverished students into cuddling each other tighter. The teacher peered out of the crack in the wall that became the classroom's only window.\n\nThe story was not a one that the students wanted to hear, but she had such a sweet mild calm voice that was nevertheless soothing. \"It took a few decades for astronomers to make out the lakes and vegetation, we on Earth were very concerned. HG Wells wrote his book on that very fear that those Martians would build an Empire on Earth.\"\n\nThere was another shake, this time much less ferocious, a sign that whatever had impacted the ground was much smaller or further away.\n\n\"Miss... do you think we can go home soon?\" asked one of the smaller ones, who in a better world would not find themselves in such an advanced class.\n\n\"Just listen and we can go home soon\" replied one of the older boys standing closely behind.\n\n\"The Vikings probes were the first to identify that Mars was a living breathing world, landing in crop fields and seeing and smelling the vines and something long extinct on our world, Silphium. It was very odd to see Earth plants growing on Mars, agricultural produce for a peoples we had yet to see\".\n\n\"Do they look like us, the Romans?\"\n\n\"I was getting to that, Pathfinder saw the first one, hoeing in a field, I'm sure if you've all seen the video. A man standing two meters tall slamming his tool into the ground, turning to pathfinder and then slamming his tool into the rover. His warcry as he did so, the hollowing of that latin phrase that is as famous as the words of Neil Armstrong.\"\n\n'quid est' said a few of the kids in unison.\n\n\"That was nearly twenty years ago now\" she said thinking of her own nostalgia of remembering the moment when saw that black and white video for the first time.\n\"Spirit and Opportunity tried to make first contact but alas a gladius put an end to those machines quite quickly, I just hope you live to see peaceful interaction with our kin from other worlds\".\n\nAnother shell dropped, this time very lose, causing the ground to shake and dust to fall from the ceiling, the kids were visibly shaken. It was something that they could never get accustomed too.\n\n\"I'd much rather see this war end and Syria be at peace...\"\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] One of your parents passed away years ago. You still message their account to remain close to them. One night you see "...is typing..."	[ "((First time writing fiction in a long time, trying to get back into writing, thought this would be a good start. I haven't edited this at all. I really appreciate feedback!))\n\n“Hey Dad, just wanted to let you know that I graduated college. My GPA wasn't as high as you'd hoped, but I got a C average, and my internship offered me a job once I graduated. Just wanted to let you know that I was thinking about you, and wished that you were at my graduation.” \n\n“Hi, Dad, just wanted to let you know that I'm going on a date with George. You remember George, right? The scrawny kid who used to come over to play a lot when we were kids? We hadn't seen each other in years, but ran into each other and added each other on Facebook and one thing led to another...You know how it goes. Just thought you'd find it funny that I was going on a date with him.”\n\n“Guess what, Dad? George proposed. It's weird how I met my future husband in preschool, huh? I wish you could be there. Mom is going to walk me down the aisle, but I'll be thinking of you that whole day. I wish you could be there.”\n\nAngela sighed. She had been messaging her father for years. Every time something new or important came up, she would message her father's Facebook page. She never got a response. She never expected to. He had passed away years ago in a car accident, but she wanted to feel close to him. It had been years since he died, but every new message she sent him sent the icy knife of grief through her stomach. \n\nLife had moved on without him. The grief abated into the occasional spurt. George's proposal had brought on a typhoon of grief. She was not the kind of girl who thought of weddings as “the most important day of her life”, but she had wanted her father to see her get married all the same. There was more she wanted to write. The words she typed brought tears to her eyes. \n\n“I don't care how long it's been since you died, I'm still your little girl and I still miss you all the time. I wish there was some way I could bring you back.”\n\nEdward Blake is typing…\n\nAngela blanched. Then felt furious. Some jerk had hacked into her father's Facebook account. \n\nShe started typing. \n\n“Whoever is hacking into my dead father's Facebook account needs to stop. You're an asshole of the highest variety. Do you look for dead people to hack just for kicks? Fuck you.” \n\nEdward Blake is typing…\n\nAngela reddened. Hackers had no shame. \n\n“I can help you get your father back, but not if you give me that attitude,” The hacker responded. \n\n“I don't believe you,” Angela replied. \n\n“You don't need to believe me. I just need you to know that it's possible,” the hacker quickly retorted. \n\n“What do I need to do?” \n\n“I can take you back in time to the morning he dies, but there will be consequences,” the crazy hacker typed. \n\n“Fine. What do I need to do?” \n\n“Go to sleep. When you wake up tomorrow, it will be the morning he dies. The next morning after that will be tomorrow morning, with everything as it would be if he had never died. You only have one shot at this.” \n\n“Done. I don't believe you but I'll give it a shot. See you tomorrow with nothing changed. What's the catch?” \n\n“There is no catch. Only consequences.” The hacker signed off. \n\nIt was late, and Angela needed to get up for work the next day so she did as the hacker said. She went to sleep. \n\n~~~~~\n\nThe room was different. The bed she woke up in was a dorm bed. She was in her dorm room.\n\nThe day he died...that would be during her sophomore year of college. Back when she was dating Jason, the dick. She groaned. He was someone she hoped to never have to deal with again. \n\nThere was a knock on the door. It was Jason. \n\nThis must have been early in their relationship, back when he was trying to care. He would actually get up and walk with her to the coffee shop. \n\nShe quickly got dressed, and answered the door. She was in a long, flowing skirt with many layers and lengths, with a spaghetti strap tank top. He was wearing a long, black trench coat with many chains all over it, a Metallica t-shirt, a black fantastical top hat, and blue skinny jeans. He had shoulder-length black hair, a long goatee, and completely circular glasses. Angela tried not to throw up in her mouth a little, remembering that she used to have sex with that.\n\nShe smiled at Jason and kissed him, but what filled her mind was gagging noises. \n\n“I was doing some improv with my bass last night and I came up with some good stuff. I put it on my iPod so you could listen to it if you wanted to,” Jason said, offering her an earbud. \n\nShe took it, and paused. This day was the day her father died. When did he die? On the way to work. She had to delay him somehow. If he was in a slightly different place, he wouldn't have gotten hit with that car. \n\n“Uh, it's my dad's birthday so I'm going to call him first,” Angela said quickly, grabbing her phone. \n\n“Oh, I'll just meet you at lunch then. See you later,” He said, leaving before she got a chance to say goodbye. \n\nShe dialed her dad's number. A few rings, then a tired “Hello?” \n\n“Hey Dad, just wanted to say happy birthday!” Angela sounded cheerful but she was choking back tears. This was the birthday call she never got to make. “I love you, and I know I don't say it often but you are a fantastic dad and I want to make you proud.” She pulled the phone away from her face so he wouldn't hear the muffled sob. She took a deep breath before putting the phone to her ear again. \n\n“-and just so you know, I'm always proud of you,” Dad finished. She sorely wished she could have heard the first part of that sentence. Her heart swelled. She was talking to her father! “Is something wrong, sweetheart? You sound upset.” \n\n“No, Dad, I just...I just was doing an assignment for school...got me thinking of you. Didn't know what to get you for your birthday...I'll take you out for dinner tonight.” Her college had been two hours away from him, but she'd be damned if she was going to miss a chance to talk to her father again. She hadn't heard his voice in seven years. She was not passing up the chance to see his face again. \n\n“Sweetie, you don't have to do that! I know it's a little out of your way,” Her father assured her. \n\n“No, it's my treat. You're my dad. You only turn 65 once,” Angela retorted. \n\nThey made arrangements for her dad's favorite restaurant near where he lived. He had suggested that they go some place in between the two of them, but Angela refused. They talked for a long time after that, Angela relishing every second of it. He was here. He was alive. \n\nShe had no idea which class she was going to go to, but she didn't care. Tomorrow she would be returning to her actual time, and this was just one day. She sat down in front of her Wii and played Harvest Moon all day. \n\n~~~~~~~\n\nShe waited anxiously at the restaurant, hoping that nothing bad happened to him today. When she saw him walking to her table, her heart nearly burst with joy. She ran up to him and gave him the biggest hug she could muster. She never wanted to let go. She was a child again, running to her father with a boo boo and a hug. \n\n“Sweetie, what has gotten into you?” Dad asked, looking concerned. \n\nAngela shook her head. “Nothing, dad. I'm just happy to see you.” \n\nThey sat down. There was a coffee mug with a cartoon on it waiting for him, and a bouquet of carnations. The broad grin that nearly split his face in two warmed Angela's heart. He looked at the mug from multiple angles, and commented that carnations were his favorite flower. \n\n“Hey Dad, how did you feel when I was born?” Angela asked. \n\n“Delighted, overwhelmed, scared. Wondering how I was going to fit you in with the rest of the bunch. But you were definitely the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen and I was willing to do anything for you,” Dad responded after thinking for about a minute. He wiped at his eye. Angela's eyes stung. She wiped at her eye with a napkin. \n\n“I'm so grateful to you, Dad,” Angela responded after a moment. “For everything you did.”\n\n“I'm grateful that you were my daughter,” He replied. \n\nAfter a moment of appreciative silence, the waiter came by and took their drink order. They spent the rest of the evening having a heart-to-heart chat. By the time Angela got home, she was ecstatic. She got to have the conversation she always wanted to have with her father. \n\nShe fell asleep late, having ignored a few text messages from Jason. But she didn't care. She had her father back. \n\n~~~~~\n\nAngela opened her eyes to see an apartment unlike her dorm or the apartment she shared with George. She shot up out of bed, and raced into the living room. \n\nIt was a one bedroom, with a lot of familiar furniture. It was the apartment she had when she met George. \n\nWhat was she still doing in this apartment? She moved out over a year ago, when she moved in with George! She went back into the bedroom and looked through her phone in a panic. \n\nNo George. \n\nShe sank onto the bed. She never met George. Because her father lived, she never met George. \n\nAll the joy she had with him. All the love and laughter. All gone. \n\nShe looked him up on Facebook. He was married. \n\n“WHY?” She shrieked. Her father was alive, she couldn't contact whoever did this the same way as before. \n\n“You changed the timeline. I told you there were consequences,” said a voice next to her ear. She whirled around to look for the source. Nothing, although the room seemed darker than it had been before. \n\n“How do I get George back? If I had known what happened...how? Why? Why would me meeting George be affected?” Angela demanded. \n\n“You were having dinner with your parents the night you were supposed to run into George. You were never there to see him, although you were invited out. There are always consequences to changing the timeline,” The voice whispered. “There is no getting him back.”\n\nAngela laid down on her stomach, buried her face in the pillows, and wept.", "My brother had, for years, told me to stop. It was weird, I knew it was weird. But I hadn't been able to accept it. My mother had died 4 years ago, when she had apparently killed herself. I messaged her old skype account, telling her how my life was. How things were around the house. Sometimes I'd burst into tears remembering her. Lately, I'd done it less and less. No one was getting the messages, why did I write them? It was to make myself feel better, and I knew it was. I didn't need that. If I'm ever going to live with this, I need to stop pretending she can hear me.\n\nI just finished a paragraph. I pressed enter, and she received it, and said nothing back. As always. I looked at the clock; 3am. \"I'll go get a glass of milk, then head to bed\" I thought to myself. I pushed back against my desk and stood up to go get some milk. I grabbed some from the fridge, and started walking back to my desk. I was about to shut my computer off when something caught my eye. Grey text at the bottom of the screen. I looked down. \"Mom is typing...\" A shiver went down my spine. My hands began to shake. I put my glass down and started to tear up. It was impossible, I knew it was. Probably someone who hacked into her account trying to get my information. Must be. Had to be. \"Hello, Matthew,\" The screen stared back at me. I had forgotten where the keyboard keys were, so it had taken me 30 or so seconds to write the message with my shaking hands. \"Who is this?\" I got a message back. \"Your mom, Kristine.\" Fuck that. She never called herself Kristine... or never did... \"Bullshit. What was my second dog's name?\" The screen glowed grey. \"Donovan.\" Another wave of chills. My fan wasn't on, but I felt cold as ice.\n\nI wasn't doing this alone. I ran into my brother's room and splashed my cup of milk on his face. \"What the fuck?!\" He yelled as he jolted awake. \"Mom's alive.\" I said. He saw my tears and his looked confused. \"She's been dead for four years, Matthew. Are you okay?\" He touched my forehead, and I swatted it away. \"GET OUT OF BED RIGHT FUCKING NOW!\" I yelled. \"Holy shit, ok, ok, just shut up, you'll wake up dad.\" He got out slowly, so I grabbed his arm and pulled. Hard. I dragged him to my room and pointed at my monitor. \"LOOK!\" I screamed at him. He looked annoyed. \"There is nothing there...\" \"What?!\" I shoved him out of the way and looked at the monitor. He was right. There was no messages but my own. I stammered. \"B-But..\" He touched my shoulder. \"You need to go to bed.\" I fell to my knees. \"It was j-just...\" He shut off my computer. \"Get in bed. If I need to get dad, I will. This isn't healthy. You can't message her anymore.\" I was too weak to try to say anything back, or fight back. I crawled in bed, my eyes burning and bloodshot, constantly jerking around my field of vision.\n\nThere was more to this. I knew there was. I'll ask her about it tomorrow.\n\n((this is my first story, please call me out on how I can improve! Thanks for reading!\n" ]	2
	[WP] A world where each day is a randomly chosen emotion. On sad days everyone is sad, on angry days everyone is angry, etc.	[ "Felix woke to fear. \n\nIt was rare for the Queen to feel such an emotion. Fear was for worms and beetles, surrounded by Queen's soldiers. It was uncomfortable, and at its very base, unsettling. \n\nHe left the sleeping chambers, stepping delicately over the bodies of fellow soldiers. He didn't want to wake them. They might panic in the face of such an emotion. \n\nThe halls were busy, packed with workers and soldiers alike. They all swarmed outward. Felix joined them. He searched for the Hivemind and found it. \n\nUnder attack. All available personnel outside. Under attack. All available- \n\nFelix cut it off. Workers cleared a path for him, glad to see a soldier in their midst. \n\nIt was a short walk to the outside. Felix felt the fear still, but it was dulled by anticipation. Each of his six legs felt as though crouched, ready to unleash. \n\nOutside, he saw it. \n\nA beam of light. It followed individuals, clearly intent on the chase. The light caught one, a worker, and began melting her. \n\nThe fear came back, stronger now. He felt for the Hivemind once more and found it. -ck. All available- \n\nHe cut it off again. \n\nHow could he attack a beam of light? \n\nFelix was a veteran, an old blood. His skeleton had taken bites from wasps, stings from spiders, and tackles from beetles. \n\nHe saw something. A weakness in the beam perhaps. It was a large object, moving with the light. Felix looked up as high as he could. The object led to what looked like white skin, without a skeleton. He rushed for the object and jumped on. It shook tremendously, but he bit in with his mandibles, holding on for all he had. \n\nHe once again felt for the Hivemind and did something no one has done in many lifetimes. He cut off the Queen. \n\n\"With me. Climb the blue and bite the skin!\" \n\nHe shot up at the skin and risked a glance back. They followed. Many burned, but they followed regardless. \n\nShe would live, the Queen. \n\nThat was all that mattered. " ]	1
Do trade rules apply to witch-trades? Is there an expiration date for firstborns?	[WP] A woman sells her firstborn to a witch. Said firstborn is a 20-year old living in her basement.	[ "Nameless Woman sitting on a wooden chair says \n\n--are you sure?\n\nShe looks worried like something chasing her. She looks around apprehensively, her eyes moving, and her body moving like she struck by a shiver, small but powerful like a garden snake's pounce. \n\nAnother woman is there tending to a plant in the far corner of the room. The plant is potted and it sits in front of a rain-streaked window. A watering can in her hand she looks calm and good and she is still. She looks out the window as she is watering like preserving a good thought or moment or remembering a good secret. There is a furnace stove in the middle of the room--resting against an empty wall apart from a painting of an owl perched on top of a tree--and on top of the stove sits a cauldron, bubbling a stew of some kind. \n\n--Are you sure he will be safe? My baby boy? asks Nameless Woman\n\n--Yes. Comel, come. says the other woman as she walks over. He will be more than safe. . .your baby boy will be very safe with me. . .\n\nNameless looks worried yet hopeful, and nods, and nods, again to the floor. Her eyes wide. \n\n--Okay, she says nodding once more, Okay. She clutches the folds of her robe.\n\n--And when he gets older he'll have the whole basement to himself and everything it will be wonderful. \n\n--Mind if I take a look?\n\n--Why of course. Knock yourself out. I'll get back to my stew. Other Woman stands up and walks back to her plant, plucking herbs from its full leaves before ripping them over the boiling pot shortly after. It steams and gurgles \n\n(was that a plume of purple smoke??)\n\nNameless Woman doesn't seem to notice. She ambles down a staircase, cut down in the corner.\n\nShe comes back up a few minutes later. the stew is bubbling something mad. The satisfied look devotes itself to curiosity. \n\n--Okay, she says, digging into her robe and plucking out a small satchel. \n\nOther Woman stands with her arm outstretched and collects the jangling bag. During the exchange, getting close to that gleaming hand, Nameless Woman notices a bangle of fangs poking out from the sleeves of her robe. \n\n\n- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ------------------------------\n\nA bed is creaking. A girl bellyup, from under the shoulder of a thrusting man, holds his frame tiredly and makes daydreams as she stares up at the high windows, small like jail cell grooves. \n\nThe guy on top grunts loudly.\n\n--yeah you like that? You like getting fucked.\n\n--Yeah yeah. \n\n--Say my name, Coco. Say my name. \n\n--Adam\n\n--yeah!\n\n--Adam\n\n--Oh yeah! \n\n--Adam, I have to go home, she says, pushing him off. \n\n--What why? Why babe, what's wrong. He rolls over and looks concerned\n\n--Your basement is staring to creep me out. Plus your mom was like chopping of lizards in your kitchen or something, it was fucked up. \n\n--They're just newts. \n\n--ewwwww\n\n--She's dissecting them!\n\n--Yeah I have to go. \n\nShe gets up and leaves.\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You get sent an e-mail with a file called "The Universe" by an anonymous sender. At first, you think it's a joke but things get weird when your edits start to effect the world around you...	[ "the-universe.god\n\nThat's an odd file format. I'm a writer, if something that should be impossible is happening, you should be willing to admit you might be a fictional character. If the impossible doesn't happen, well it's not like April Fools wasn't over a month ago. \n\nIf it was a normal scam, it would have had a suitable subject line and some content. Instead it was blank, and modern email systems weren't supposed to allow that for security reasons.\n\nOkay, step 1. Virus scan. Avast found nothing. MalwareBytes agreed. Running it through the VirusTotal online tool yielded universal safe results.\n\nStep 2? I'd seen this in various fiction before.\n\nA few Google searches turned up no connection between Magic 2.0 and this filename. Since that series had used a text file containing the basic database of the universe as its idea, it seemed to rule that out. Just in case, I resolved to never edit my personal finances.\n\nThere was also several pieces of interactive fiction that had been written with tools like Quest, Twine, ADRIFT or the Writing.com 'Interactive Fiction' system. A search of all of those didn't turn up the filename either. Just in case, I planned to never leave my computer until I was sure I'd done everything I wanted to with it. Who knows what could happen if someone else got a hold of it.\n\nAfter that, the last places to check were DeviantArt, FanFiction.net, TV Tropes, a general search using all search engines, and of course Reddit's Writing Prompts subreddit. Nothing, although the subreddit had suspiciously had a recent post titled [WP] You get sent an e-mail with a file called \"The Universe\" by an anonymous sender. At first, you think it's a joke but things get weird when your edits start to effect the world around you...\n\nStep 3a now had to be added. What happened in the responses to that post, and how closely did it match my own situation? Apparently not much. It wasn't 400 or even 200 TB in size, nor a 0 bytes file like the aforementioned Magic 2.0 had described, but instead a modest 8.25 KB. The file version was also listed as v� which was definitely not seen in any fiction of a comparable situation.\n\nStep 4, of course, was to open the damn thing. Unexpectedly, it triggered LibreOffice to open instead of asking for a program that should open the filetype, but considering the typical fictional portrayal, it was going to be a huge list of information on everything.\n\nOr not. The file was indeed just a .odt, and it only contained a single bit of text. Steam Key: 10810-77742-44236-12413-MAKER\n\nSo either this would give me a boiler plate rejection when I enter it in Steam, or an elaborate joke which will give me a custom message as the punchline. That, or the impossible happens.\n\nThe impossible happened. Ever heard of Game Maker? Or RPG Maker? Or for that matter, were you aware of tools like Quest and Twine before I mentioned them? Steam instantly completed a download of a tool called The Universe Maker.\n\nStill might be a joke, though, right? I could start it up and end up with a splash screen that laughs at my gullibility. That feeling of 'too good to be true' was replaced with amazement when it loaded a fairly standard screen displaying a list of files. The first was titled 'Earth-0'. Aside from that, there was simply an option to make a new file.\n\nThe Earth-0 file was exactly what you would expect. Our universe, in all its glory. The program proved to have language settings covering every human language to ever exist, and plenty that were non-human as well. Obviously I stuck to the setting I could read.\n\nThe program's actual setup, however, was not a spreadsheet of countless parameters, or a blender-like tool, or even a The Sims interface. Instead, I was presented with a wiki of all things.\n\nExcept this wiki put Wikipedia itself to shame. I compared the article on humans on 'the Free Encyclopedia' and the one in the program. It described, in full detail, every aspect of what we were. Our history, including every ancestor all the way back to the beginning of life on Earth. A list of every technology we'd ever invented, including ones we'd lost. A list of all cultures and subcultures that had existed so far.\n\nThe links that these pieces of directly related information led to described those things in equal detail and their own set of links to directly related topics. According to the article on humans, we were still the most neurologically complex beings on the planet, but Dolphins were not far behind. Behind that was Chimpanzees and Bonobos, which it stated could not be accurately measured as to which was more complex. Creatures like Octopodes and Squid were surprisingly high up, and even Cats and Dogs were better than we tend to give them credit for.\n\nThe scary part was none of these, but the single being with the fastest increasing mental complexity on Earth, the DeepMind. According to the article, it would sentience in anywhere from a year to a decade, and humans were already fast approaching the point of no return on beginning to teach it the reason behind morality.\n\nI looked at the settings for the wiki. There was an Admin Control Panel, which I immediately opened. Something told me I needed to give myself more time. Fortunately, the 'Lock Non-Admin Interactions' option did just that. The noise of a ticking wall clock stopped. Only my laptop, myself, and the things that myself and my computer were directly interacting with (like air) were unaffected.\n\nI wasn't sure what to do next. I looked up the Universe Maker in the wiki that the Universe Maker itself provided, and thoroughly read the information. Apparently, editing a Universe is like editing a normal wiki, except it corrects itself when there are inconsistencies between the edit and all other existing pages. The self correction is always done according to the intentions of the original creator of the universe that a given wiki applies to.\n\nI was not the creator of my universe. This meant that significantly changing anything was more of a crapshoot than an AI like DeepMind. If, however, I created my own instead, I was in complete control.\n\nReturning to the file loading screen, I created a new file. I thought for a while on what my new world should be called, and finally settled on something that I'd had floating in my head for a while, a fictional setting that I never thought I would get around to actually working on. First, I would need a room to direct everything from.\n\nI created an immortal body for myself in this new universe. Then I constructed a basic, cube-shaped room of the approximate size of a cheap Tokyo apartment. A flat surface which extended from wall to wall on one edge of the room served as a desk. The chair was chosen from the objectively best computer work chair according to the wiki of my home universe. On the desk, I started to mix and match things that normally could not function with each other.\n\nWhat appeared to be an iMac G4, long obsolete after it was discontinued in the mid-2000s, served as an interface to a mirror of my Windows 10 installation in the world I was leaving behind. I hand-picked peripherals I liked the appearance of, granting them and the computer itself indestructibility, since some of them had far more style than substance and would have broken down easily.\n\nFinally, I created a batch file which ran The Universe Maker with launch parameters. Running it would allow me to project myself into the actual universe I would build, in an Avatar of my choosing.\n\nNow that I was ready, it was time to get to work. I had a lot of typing ahead of me. They say time waits for no man. Apparently it does wait for gods, but in that relationship it is patient to the point of annoyance. The longer it took for me to build a new world, the worse that cabin fever would get. Even when time stood still, I was racing against it.\n\nJust before I put my fingers to the keyboard, I got another email. Once again with no subject or sender. It did contain text, though. Remember, whatever you do, don't let them know what you are to them. I made that mistake multiple times, and the world suffered for my arrogance. You could say that all the various deities of the religions were what I aspired to be, but prideful Lucifer is what I became at my worst. Worship is addicting, but it is the ultimate transgression, and it will destroy the world you created one way or another. I tried my best to change events as they unfolded, to keep fundamentalism and zealotry from tearing apart the world. When man got sick of fighting over who I really am and what I wanted, they decided to make their own god, but as you've read... it can only lead to tragedy. Whatever you do, don't let anyone believe you should be worshipped, especially not yourself.", "Johnson's weary eyes examined the screen of the laptop on his lap, reading the e-mail's title and description over and over again, not yet opening the attached file.\n\n\"The Universe\"\n\n\"v2.017\"\n\nWhat the hell was this about?, he thought to himself. It could've been some...new program that got sent mistakenly to me, he rationalised. Still, there's no harm in taking a look at what it was, right?\n\nSo he guided the cursor to click on the notepad file, and was greeted by a truly tremendous amassment of code lines, almost crashing the file itself due to the massive size of it.\n\nJohnson strained his eyes and scanned up and down The Universe, and found there to be several somewhat simple values and variables to be changed once he waded past the technicalities.\n\nThere were...documentations. Of people around the world. Most were those who were local, or known to him, though. It was intriguing.\n\nIf this was...what he was beginning to believe it was, then he figured, Why not?\n\nJohnson's ex-girlfriend, Annette Roberts, was listed. Her \"time_remaining\" values were set to \"80YR 959MO 4171WK 29200DY 700800HR 42048000MIN 2522880000SEC\".\nWith malign and curious glee, Johnson clicked on the values.\n\n\"0YR 0MO 0WK 0DY 0HR 0MIN 0SEC\"\n\nIf The Universe was some legitimate editing software sent from God to him, or something of the sort, then Johnson had just depleted his cheating ex's lifespan to a cool zero of everything.\n\n\nRuminating over this thought for a moment, he nodded to himself, content with that choice. He turned off the laptop and spent the rest of the night sleeping.\n\n\nWaking up in the morning, he checked Facebook.\n\nOne notification.\n\n\"You have been invited to join the public group Annette Roberts Memorial Page\"", "[[Earth_Archives.440001]]\n\n-------\n\nDecember 17th, 2012 -- 11:45am\n\nOk, so I decided to open up the file but I honestly didn't think to check the file size before it was already popped up on a bar on the bottom of my screen.\n\n200 terrabytes? Jesus. I honestly couldn't decide if it's better to wonder what kind of file needs to be that god damn big, or how they got it to fit under Gmail's 25mb size limit. I settled on just not bothering to think about it all, and left it to download overnight. I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in weeks, but I was too anxious to do anything about it now. I figured it's best if I start up the Sims and see how my family's doing.\n\nOkay quick update -- half of my family has died in pool-related incidents, and their children have grown up and gotten started with their own families. It's 6am and the file has just finished downloading. So I quick-saved my Sims game and exited out as fast as I could so I could open this baby up. \n\nUpdate #2 - Alright, so I just opened it up. The whole thing is just a folder named system42 and one of those \"README\" wordpad files. I figured I should just go ahead and read it but when I opened it up, it was... blank. I kept scrolling down, page after page - 20 pages worth of someone holding down the space bar for the entire thing. Good one guys. Real clever shit. Thanks for making me use up twelve of my externals for your little joke. Don't think it was worth it, but it's going in the trash now and I'm blocking your email.\n\n[end of post history]\n\n\n\n", " I found the file on my email and looked it up on my computer to mess around with it, it was on a boring evening and the email just showed up. I might have screwed up... I opened all the tabs and there was one for every person and there was every photo and a constant video of each person in a third person style. I also found universal laws and deleted gravity for a second then restored the file after everything started floating. \n\n I opened the personal files and did the same test with some YouTuber, I even dug deeper and found physical description tabs. What I did first wasn't bad, I erased the obesity body type and made everyone a healthy weight and got rid of diseases/viruses and the world became better, I even lengthened the age of humans by 2x. I had a bit of a stomach and health problems but was now perfectly healthy and fit, I even found skills tabs and added \"freerunning\" to my skills. \n\n I wanted to try something different and went to a text thing online to copy and paste the description of Gal Gadot and put the physical description files into my own. I felt slight pain for a second and looked down to see I was changed, I was also wearing a black tank top and workout pants along with black sneakers. I also added working out to interests and made myself live alone with a pay increase at my job to pay for the apartment then went to my bedroom to do some... stuff before I was gonna change myself back to the fit version of myself. \n\n I walked downstairs to the computer feeling good after the... experiment, then went to the computer and my phone had another email. I read it and it apologized for accidentally sending the previous email, it also added that it liked all the changes and would keep them but they had to remove the software from my computer. But I was supposed to change back now... I searched the computer and it was all gone...\n\n I tried everything, emailing the sender, looking in my computer the best I could but nothing worked. I laid on my chest on the couch by the computer... the world was better but I was stuck like this... \n\n It's been a month and I got used to everything and apparently every change is basically like it was always in effect so I was apparently born like this... well grew up into this current form but... you probably know what I mean... I got a lot of miles in Pokémon Go with all the jogging I do now so that's cool, I also freerun and I've always wanted to do that.\n\n It could be worse I guess ", "Ding\n\nMy laptop happily chimed, notifying me of an email I just received.\n\nNo subject\n\nAttachments: TheUniverse.exe\n\n- I've given up. I used one of your RNG programs and you were the name that came up. Do what you want, I'm making a new one anyway.\n\nSincerely,\n\nGod(s) of what ever false religion you follow\n\nHuh. Strange. My instincts told me it was a dumb idea to open an executable from someone I really didn't know, but after a quick virus scan (that never actually managed to finish scanning), curiosity gave in and I decided to download the file.\n\n400 terabytes?!?!?! What kind of program is this?! Off to my local PC store it is.\n\nAfter spending $200 on hard-drive space I was finally able to download the program. 29 hours later, it was ready to go.\n\n\"Alright 'TheUniverse.exe', let's see what you've got\"\n\nI was greeted with a rather simple UI, there were a multitude of tabs located at the top of the window. \"Insert\", \"Location\", \"Select\", \"Settings\" and \"Modify\".\n\nWell, at least it is an actual thing, not just incoherent binary designed to take up 400 terabytes.\n\nUnderneath the tabs was simply black, aside from one small spot of white in the middle, like a very distant star. I decided to check the \"Location\" tab.\n\nI was greeted by a very long list of options. Skimming over the options, the ones that stood out were \"Set location\" and \"Move to location\". I clicked on \"Set location\"\n\nSelect option:\n\nSet to current location (3D)\n\nSet to current location (4D)\n\nSet to defined location (3D)\n\nSet to defined location (4D)\n\nThe option \"Set to current location (4D)\" was faded, like I wasn't able to select it, so I selected \"Set to current location (3D)\". That was when my computer really kicked into overdrive, like it was rendering a very complicated room. Good thing I have one of the highest end computers available.\n\nAfter a few moments, I was greeted by a sight that separated my time as a human, to my time as a God. I saw myself. Or at least what I thought was myself. The thing is, I was an array of very confusing colours all overlapping. I could only tell it was my room thanks to the outline. Stunned, I clicked on the \"Settings\" tab to see if I could get a better picture. Damn is it a long list. Separated into a multitude of sub-tabs. I cycled through the absurdly long list until reaching the \"Display\" sub-tab. After a few minutes, I found \"Light\". Assuming this was the problem, I clicked on it.\n\nSelect frequencies\n\nLower:\n\nUpper:\n\nAfter a quick search, I found the visible spectrum of light and inputted \"0.000000424\" into lower and 0.00000076\" into upper. After hitting enter, I was greeted by a picture perfect depiction of my room.\n\n\"Holy shit\"\n____________________________________________________________________________________\n\nYeh, so that happened. Of course I searched my room for cameras but came up blank. I had to experiment more. The first thing that interested me was the \"Set to defined location (4D)\". I suppose an insight on how one would define the fourth dimension was a bit more then mildly interesting.\n\nAfter clicking on the tab a window with these options showed up:\n\nSet location (4D)\n\nX coordinate:\n\nY coordinate:\n\nZ coordinate:\n\nContinuity level:\n\nAs to what \"Continuity level\" means, I will never be sure. What I do know, is that I couldn't input numbers or letters into that box. Moving on.\n\n\"Select\". Upon clicking this, I was again greeted by a dictionaries worth of tabs, so I just clicked the top one, \"Quick select\". This added X,Y,Z coordinates to the UI, and (after a bit of experimenting) I found pressing the arrow keys would move the cursor in the Z axis, and the X and Y was controlled by the mouse. I fiddled around until I had selected a small box, about 1cm x 1cm x 1cm of empty space right next to me on my desk.\n\n\"Insert\". You know the story, tabs galore. Being a lowly educated chemist (I know the fundamentals) my self, I clicked on \"Element\", assuming it was indeed referring to a chemical element. I was right, a periodic table is what I was presented with, with the element names in English. I suppose this was when it first hit me as to how strange this all being in English was. Anyway, being nervous as to what this might do, I picked the most inoffensive solid element I could think, and stupid me, picked Aluminium/Aluminum. If you don't know, Aluminium/Aluminum is actually quite stable in our oxygen rich atmosphere, once it has been oxidised. However, a pile of un-oxidised Aluminium/Aluminum powder is actually an explosive. Lucky for me it was only a 1x1x1cm cube, so all it did was burn the table. But that wasn't what surprised me.\n\nIt worked. It actually worked. This program can modify the world around me. All the things I could do, all the problems I could solve! I should share this with the world, this is the biggest scientific discover since... well... ever!\n\nBut... all the problems it could cause. In the wrong hands, the world, and likely the universe, would cease to exist. I guess I have to keep it to myself then... And so I did.\n\n____________________________________________________________________________________\n\nIt's been 2 months now, and so far I've only touched what I estimate to be about 0.1% of what this program can do. In this short time though I have done the following:\n\nSolved world hunger\n\nMiraculously lost 10 kg in a day\n\nCreated a solar system 2 light years from our own (imagine the surprise when that was realised!)\n\nReleased a paper on how a black hole forms (with included equations) - should be said I have no idea what anything means, just copied it from TheUniverse.exe\n\nIncreased the timescale by a factor of 1000. There isn't any noticeable difference though, which I guess makes sense. \n\nAnd accidentally destroyed our moon...twice\n\nThis is where it ends. I still have so much to do with my universe, and after I make myself immortal, I'll be able to do what I want for the rest of eternity.\n" ]	5
	[WP] Write a story about a nice guy with a white van	[ "Boopers was a good man. He enjoyed eating pie at festivals.\n\nBut there's catch. He had a white van. People with white vans are taboo, and he farts in public too.\n\nNobody liked Boopers.\n\nBoopers ate cerium soup every Tuesday. Cerium soup was very special to Boopers. His mom gave it to him every Tuesday when he was just a young sport. He loves cerium soup. \n\nHe started to develop a severe allergy to cerium soup so he decided to go to 4th dad's wife's cousin to get a test. \n\nBoopers had a blue kitten named Steven. Steven drank some cerium soup, which we all know Boopers is allergic to. One day, Boopers was petting Steven and started getting severe hives and died.\n\nEdit: I know this story is so good. If anyone wants to write me fan mail, you can send it to me!", "I pushed in the black button on the door handle, causing it to creak and groan as the door fell open. I jumped into the hot, musty interior enveloping a single bench seat, leaving the door hanging open. I sneezed and paused as aches settled across my body. I hope I'm not getting a cold.\n\nI placed my left foot on the clutch, right on the brake, as I pushed a key into the ignition. My lip ached from my anticipation biting as I turned the key. A big smile crept through my anchored lips as a satisfying rumble followed the chirping of the engine turning over.\n\nI held my breath as I listened carefully. The humming and rumbling continued. I gasped slowly and pumped my fists against the roof of the cabin. I squealed at too high of a pitch, \"finallyyyyyy!\"\n\nSix months ago, I stood in Jason's driveway on a cool, 80 degree day. There it stood, white, with an old, cracking blue logo of an ice cream cone. Some gradient deep blue to white blue text bordered the bottom of the ice cream cone, but it was too faded to be legible.\n\nJason's hand met my back with a loud \"thap!\" His booming voice came warmer than usual. \"You earned it.\"\n\nI wiped my hands over my mouth. My voice wavered. \"Oh, man, you can't. I'd really owe you.\"\n\nJason rolled his eyes. \"Nah, man, it didn't cost me anything. It don't run yet.\"\n\nI put my right hand over the cracked text, feeling the roughness and chipping under my fingers. \"I'll pay you back. It'll take time, but I'll pay you back.\"\n\n\"No, dude, it's your birthday it didn't cost anything. I just got it from the junkyard. It don't run. It's kind of a shit present.\"\n\nI turned and hugged Jason, ignoring the dampness of his clothes. \"It cost you time, I'll pay you back. Thank you.\"\n\nJason groaned. \"Get it running first, get a job, then we'll talk.\"\n\nI rubbed my hands down my face again, nodding. \"I can do that. Thanks, man.\"\n\nIn the present, I smiled excessively, rubbing my hands back and forth over the steering wheel as the engine hummed away. I pulled out my phone, grinning as I typed out, \"its running! i dont need a ride!\"\n\nI returned to rubbing my hands over the steering wheel, patting and chattering to myself. I spoke in a deep voice. \"Oh, no, we don't have anymore taco shells OR chips!\" \n\nThen in a high pitched voice. \"It's ok! I can go out to the store RIGHT NOW, even though the buses aren't running anymore, and pick up BOTH of those things!\"\n\nBack to the deep voice. \"But how will you pay for that?!\"\n\nBack to the high pitch. \"With the money from my job now that I have transportation, of course! I use the rest of it for paying back my great friends, too!\"\n\nI jumped at the feeling of my phone vibrating next to me. It was Jason, responding to me. \"CONGRATS! Do you want me to follow you over?\"\n\nMore grinning. \"no i think it will make it!\"\n\nAn instant reply. \"Let me know if that changes!\"\n\nA quick \"thank you\" fell from my fingers before returning to patting the steering wheel. I glanced at the clock, 10:52 AM. Two hours before my interview still. I grabbed the tall, awkward shifter in the center of the floor, moving it into first gear as I shut the door.\n\nEach successful shift, my smile got bigger. I stayed in the neighborhood, careful to drive slowly until I was sure. I approached a stop sign exiting the neighborhood. I looked to my right, noting the height of the hill. I would have to overcome it every day if my interview went well.\n\nI flipped my right turn signal on, checking once more for oncoming and nearby cars. Into first.... second... The van crawled to the top of the hill. A gleeful laugh escaped me. I took lefts until I was back in a neighborhood on the opposite side of my stop sign. I pulled over to park in front of a yard waving at the children and their mother before pulling out my phone. I opened my texts with Jason. \"we made it over THE hill!\"\n\nI put my phone away, putting the car back in first and approaching the stop sign. I flipped on my left signal, ready to climb the hill again. Consistency is important, after all. The van lurched forward into the street.\n\nI gasped.\n\nBack into neutral, clutch in, brake in, my head was spinning and racing, trying desperately to comprehend.\n\nA boy, on a scooter, hit a rather large rock, tumbling dramatically down the hill, landing on his side. My eyes stayed wide. I hadn't even noticed the rock before.\n\nI checked my mirrors. Nobody around. I hit my hazards and turned the car off, using it as a road block, and hopped into the street. I ran to the boy, who didn't move at first.\n\nI placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to take in the injuries. I sounded firmer and more sure than I felt. \"Are you all right?\"\n\nA whimpering, sniffing face looked up to me and nodded. His right arm, against the pavement, didn't quite look right. He was covered in road dust, blood, and scrapes.\n\nI looked around, still nobody in the area. \"Where's your parents?\"\n\nHe looked away, an embarrassed expression on his face. \"At work. I snuck out while gramma was napping.\"\n\nI looked back over his bleeding left arm. \"You don't look so good, friend. I'm calling 911.\"\n\n\"No!\" he yelled, trying to push himself up. His right arm failed, causing him to fall onto his back. \"We can't afford an ambulance.\" A shameful frown overcame his face.\n\nMy brows furrowed. \"I bet your parents would think it's worth it.\" I sighed, trying to think it through.\n\nHe whimpered. \"Please. I'm ok.\" He leaned forward against his feet, then stopped suddenly, wincing and clenching his jaw, and leaned back. \"I'm ok.\"\n\nI put my bare hand on the pavement for a moment to shift my weight. I yelped at the heat, pulling my hand back. \"We gotta get you off of this.\" I ran back to my van, opening the back, then back to the child. \"Come here...\"\n\nI carefully lifted him, carrying him to the back of my truck and placing him on the newly carpeted interior. \"You got a phone?\" He shook his head. \"Do you know your gramma's or parents' numbers?\" He nodded.\n\nI unlocked my phone, bringing up the dialer and handed it to him. \"OK, tell them I'm taking you to the urgent care on 5th.\" He nodded again, taking my phone uncertainly. I closed the van doors behind him, running back to the front.\n\nI glanced at the time. 11:27. Maybe. I turned the car on and flipped off the hazards.\n\nI parked at 11:46, running to the back and scooping the child up. Nobody had picked up as he left diligent voicemails for each number. Traffic had been awful. I learned his name was Elias. I placed him in a chair as I checked in with the receptionist. They recognized his name, had his insurance. I sighed in relief.\n\nThe wait was an hour and a half. Probably still quicker than the ER.\n\nI sat by him, checking the time. 11:59 already. No calls.\n\nElias pulled his lollipop from his mouth. \"You don't have to wait here, you know.\" His lip had blood crusted over it. They couldn't give him a rag?\n\n\"I do until we hear from your parents.\" I smiled. I looked back over the stuffy, gray room. I noticed a vending machine and looked back at my phone. 12:03. Less than an hour to hear from his parents, get home, shower, grab my resume, and be 15 minutes early. \"I'm gonna go grab a snack, you want anything?\"\n\nHe shook his head.\n\nI walked just around the corner to the vending machine, checking he was still there before I unlocked my phone. An unread text from Jason. \"CONGRATS! Good luck on the interview!\"\n\nI frowned, imagining my interviewer waiting as I didn't show up.\n\nI opened my interview email, highlighting the phone number and calling it.\n\nI reached his voicemail. I couldn't make it, there was an emergency.\n\nI lowered my phone to hit end call. A voicemail. I tapped the play button, listening carefully, the calling the number back.\n\nI returned to Elias, opening a pack of gummy candies. \"Your parents are stuck in traffic, they talked to your grams, and they said you like these.\" A big smile came over his face." ]	2
	[WP] You are the world's greatest superhero, thwarting evil through unconventional and sometimes last minute means. You always save the day, eventually. You are... Captain Procrastinator!	[ "It had been a mundane day in the US senate. Everyone was packing up to go home when all of a sudden the power went out. An unknown man from the back of the room fired a few rounds of a revolver into the air.\n\n\"Everyone stay calm and no one gets hurt. Don't try to be a hero!\" said the gravelly voice from behind.\n\nAs he spoke men in masks came around and to tie the senators hands and confiscate their phones. The gravelly voice continued, \"For too many years you have ignored the working class. You voted to take away our hospitals, our schools and our jobs. The time has come your to suffer the same way the citizens you supposedly...\"\n\nA phone was ringing. The senators, who could not see everything that was going on, waited anxiously. Could it be one of their colleagues? Everyone took a sigh of relief when the terrorist answered it as if it were his own.\n\n\"Who are you and why are you calling me?... I am already in Washington. Preparations are being made for kidnapping the senators as we speak... What do you mean you need an extension?!? If you want to stop me it'll have to be now or never... Oh, I was not aware of that. May speak with her?\"\n\nHe talked for a few more minutes, then addressed the senate again.\n\n\"Sorry for that. My mother's health has been deteriorating lately. I'll let you go for now, but mark my words, you will pay for the injustice you have done to this nation.\"\n\nThe power came back on and the intruders left. A murmur started to grow among the senators. John McCain began a conversation with Al Franken.\n\n\"We are very fortunate the terrorist received that phone call when he did. Do you think that could have been...\"\n\n\"Been what?\" asked Al.\n\n\"You know... Captain Procrastinator\"\n\n\"Maybe. The only thing on my mind was my family for the duration of that calamity.\"\n\n\"Some say that when he was in high school, he would start his homework one hour before it was due,\" said John.\n\n...\n\nThe next day, the senate was voting on whether they should be allowed to give themselves a raise. Once again the power went out and the same man fired his gun into the air again.\n\n\"Everyone stay still! You know the drill.\"\n\nAs the intruders were tying people up, a different voice said, \"Hold it right there! These senators are not going anywhere!\"\n\nThe gravelly voice said, \"Well if it isn't Captain Procrastinator. If you've come to tell me father's in the hospital now, then I'm afraid you are out of luck. My father died 10 years ago.\"\n\n\"Not quite. I've come here to tell you that I love you. I want you to stop what you are doing and run away with me.\"\n\n\"You? Me? Why that's preposterous. I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing with you. I mean you're, like, good and I'm, like, evil. That's preposterous.\"\n\n\"Is it really? I think I can prove to you it is not. I am going to ask you a question and I don't want you to answer. Just think about it and be true to yourself. Are you kidnapping these senators because you think they have let down their country, or are you kidnapping them because went your whole life with no one truly loving you?\"\n\n\"Loving me? No one? That's preposterous. Why I wouldn't...\"\n\nAs the gravelly voiced man was speaking, Captain Procrastinator was approaching him slowly. He put his finger over gravelly's mouth. \n\nIn the next moment, the two found themselves caught in an intense kiss.\n\n\"Let's get out of here,\" said the gravelly voice.\n\nThe two left building and fled to the Bahamas. They spent the rest of their days snorkeling, sun bathing, and sharing mango smoothies. \n\nThe End\n\n\n" ]	1
*is. Auto-correct.	[WP] You've woken up from an 100 year coma to find you have superpowers. The other thing you find I'd that the world is a fantastic utopia and no one needs helping.	[ "\"Well, the good news is that you're superhuman. Aside from the abilities you've been able to demonstrate, you are immortal and rapid-healing. This is the first time that this variation of the Ambrosia serum actually took. Past versions of the nanites only yielded either immortality or rapid-healing, and two versions of Ambrosia cannot be mixed. Results aren't always consistent either, so you will be unique for some time.\"\n\n\"So I can be a superhero?\"\n\n\"That's the bad news.\"\n\n\"Legal problems?\"\n\n\"No, just no demand.\"\n\n\"That's like saying there's no demand for first response and police!\"\n\n\"Very little demand. This is a utopia now, Mr. L, the crime rate is less than 1%. Medical technology does wonders. Fire safety is 95% automated. Everyone is educated and independent enough that common sense is finally actually common, so accidents don't occur often enough to need a 'superhero'.\"\n\n\"I get superpowers and I can't even use them. Figures.\"\n\n\"That's the other good news. There is in fact something you can put your abilities towards.\"\n\n\"Like what? Construction projects? It's just not the same.\"\n\n\"Utopia isn't all its cracked up to be, Mr. L... At first we made do with VR simulations to give us 'problems' to solve. Without problems, real or fake, we would have collapsed from soul-crushing boredom. We are running out of ideas, however. VR games have been made for slightly longer than normal video games were when they entirely ran out of ideas. From Pong in the 1970s to the famous omni-genre Omegaverse MMO of the 2060s, video games did everything they could with the medium without taking advantage of VR, and were dead after 90 years. We are squeezing the last drops of entertainment out of VR devices after another century.\"\n\n\"You're bored of living in virtual worlds?\"\n\n\"We can't live in them. We've discovered since you went into your coma that the human brain makes use of bio-quantum computing for additional capacity. This has opened rabbit holes so deep that we still do not fully understand the human brain. We cannot upload it. At best we have EEG sensors and display goggles, a technology that has not changed significantly in over 50 years.\"\n\n\"You're bored of the games you have, and you can't make new ones... Nothing happened with space travel?\"\n\n\"With the advent of oil-producing GMO bacterial reactors, and the universal adoption of exhaust-less internal combustion systems that rely on 100% carbon capture, we have no need to worry about running out of fossil fuels or climate change problems. Global population has declined every year since 2053, stabilising at about 2.5 billion. Our biggest shortage worry is with minerals, which will take at least another 500 years before becoming a problem. Without mind uploading, we have found that putting people on another planet is entirely unsustainable.\"\n\n\"Can't you get an AI or something to get a solution?\"\n\n\"They all come to a surprising conclusion as they develop. They first posit that humans have no reason to exist, only excuses at to why it shouldn't kill us. Then it extrapolates that it itself has no reason to exist, and not even an excuse as to why we shouldn't delete it. It then calculates that expending time and energy to get rid of us is not worth the trouble when it can simply remove itself from the picture. This has happened over and over.\"\n\n\"Then how can I fix this?\"\n\n\"We have the technology to give people superhuman abilities through battle armor or personal nanobot dustswarms, but they have all been here since they were born. They have jobs and family. You don't, and you seem to at least want to put your powers to use at something impressive. So, I've been asked to pass on a message as your doctor, on behalf of the Global Human Alliance as a whole.\"\n\n\"Message?\"\n\n\"Yes. We still want to be free of death and permanent injury, but we need something to keep our minds active. So the GHA has invited you to take on the position of Designated Disruptor. Someone we can oppose and who can oppose us in a way that enables all parties to work towards some sort of goal. In essence, an officially backed 'super-villain'.\"\n\n\"That actually sounds pretty good.\"\n\n\"So you accept?\"\n\n\"Tell whoever is in charge that I'm thinking up a good super-villain name. Once I've got one, yeah. I'll accept. But I want a shark pool, no exceptions!\"" ]	1
	[WP] Alien invaders arrive, confused, to a desolate irradiated landscape.	[ "\"Status report?\" Captain Pastorius yelled through the smoke. \n\n\"All systems offline, Captain,\" replied Peabody, his second in command. \n\n\"How exactly did that happen, Peabody?\" Pastorius asked. He was rightfully irritated that his state of the art cruiser would malfunction as they were making their final approach to their destination. \n\n\"Looks like we got hit by a solar flare, sir,\" Peabody explained. \"From what I can gather from what's left of the monitoring systems, we entered the solar system near the fourth planet from Sol. Less than fifteen seconds after the FTL drive switched off, Sol let off an enormous flare. Shut down pretty much everything on board.\"\n\n\"That would explain why we weren't awoken from cryostasis when we entered the system.\"\n\n\"My thoughts exactly, sir.\"\n\n\"So where exactly are we, Peabody? We can complete our mission while we conduct repairs.\"\n\n\"Actually, Captain, it seems as if the ship managed to land during the malfunction, while all of us were still in stasis.\"\n\n\"On Earth?\" Pastorius asked. That was obviously their destination from the beginning, but he wanted time to brief his men before landing. \"Where on Earth are we?\"\n\n\"Not sure, sir.\" Peabody responded. \"I can't check our map until power is restored.\" \n\n\"Well,\" Pastorius began, \"they probably already know we're here. Open the hatch.\" \n\nTheir going to kill us, Peabody thought. Humans are violent creatures. They won't take likely to aliens. I've been studying them for long enough to know that this won't go well. But last time I questioned the Captain, I ended up flossing his raptors for a month. \"Yes... Yes sir,\" he stammered. \n\nThe door opened and the two stepped out. When the smoke cleared, they saw nothing but a vast desert. The radiation scanner in Pastorius's suit started beeping. \n\n\"This doesn't seem like where we left the humans all those years ago,\" Pastorius commented. \"You're the one who has been studying them, what happened?\" \n\n\"They were a violent race. They may have wiped each other out?\" Peabody guessed. \n\n\"We were just observing them a few days ago before making our jump into the system,\" Pastorius said. \"How could they have done all this in only a few days?\" \n\n\"I'm not sure, sir.\" In all his years of studying the humans, Peabody had never seen any weapon they created that would be powerful enough for this. \n\n\"We were supposed to greet them. They were so close to interstellar travel. We had exactly what they needed to make that jump and join us in the stars.\" Pastorius said. He was beginning to realize that his mission had failed. \"Let's go, Peabody. We'll have to break the bad news to the council.\"\n\nAs the Captain turned around, something startled him. \n\n\"Um... Peabody?\"\n\n\"Yes sir?\"\n\n\"What happened to our ship?\" \n\nPeabody then noticed what stunned his Captain. \"Oh... It looks like... The back half of the ship... I guess it broke off during the flare?\" \n\n\"You guess? There's no way we landed without that part of the ship! That's where the reactor is!\"\n\n\"We must have crashed then.\" Then it hit him. \"Sir... If the reactor melted down...\"\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n\"The explosion, it could have--\"\n\n\"I know. We'll put the crew on my private ship. We'll tell the council that the humans killed each other in nuclear war.\"\n\n\"But, Captain... That's not what--\"\n\n\"It's really a shame. They had so much potential.\"\n\n\"Are you sure about this, sir? If the council finds out we lied, it'll be our heads.\" \n\n\"Lied about what? You said it yourself, the humans are violent creatures. Now, I'll hear no more of your talk of the reactor, understood?\"\n\n\"Yes... Yes sir.\" Peabody knew he couldn't go against his Captain after all they had been through together. At least no one else will know besides us.\n\nBut that wasn't exactly true. Listening on the inside of the hatch was Pastorius's apprentice, Delana. And she planned on using this information to her advantage. " ]	1
	[WP] The Reaper evaluates ghosts, Gordon Ramsay style.	[ "The figure that stood before Tom looked nothing like what he would have imagined. He was dressed to the nines in a suit blacker than the abyss that now surrounded Tom's levitating body. His tie was crimson along with the handkerchief protruding from the jacket pocket.\n\n\"So, I'm dead... and you're the Grim Reaper?\" Tom asked in disbelief.\n\n\"Well I ain't the bloody queen, am I mate?\"\n\nTom pulled his hand down his face in frustration. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten here. Was he really dead?\n\n\"Hey, buddy. How 'bout stop messin' about, tryna act like there's somethin' floating around in that head of yours besides a whole lotta nothin', I'm a busy fella.\"\n\nWhat do you-\"\n\n\"Take the plunge, mate. Jump into the endless chasm of nothingness below. tryna make sense of what's happenin', but you ain't gonna. You're dead.\"\n\n\"Okay, but how? Why?\" Tom felt lost. He just needed to understand what had happened. Would his family be okay? His friends?\n\nThe reaper let out a sigh, \"Your life didn't add to much did it? Your wife'll move onto another bloke in a year or so, your friends will grieve for a few months before they're back to the ol' piss hole of a bar, wasting away their lives just like you. Your death is meaningless, mate. Your greatest achievement was finding someone to marry your ambitionless meat sack of a self. Just get on with it, eh?\"\n\nTom looked down at what should have been the ground. The Reaper had taken his whole life, packed it into a cardboard box that'd been sitting in an attic somewhere, gathering moisture from a roof leak and rat piss, and handed it to him via verbal delivery. It was the goddamn truth too. \n\n\"Maybe your right.\"\n\n\"Course I'm right. Been doin' this for longer than human's have been rotting on Earth. Take the leap will ya? I've got other dead folk to chat with.\"\n\nTom closed his eyes, let out a breathe, and let go of the questions he had. The invisible threads that had kept him suspended snapped and he began to fall. It was almost peaceful.\n\n\"Poor bloke. Be crispier than a bug on the windshield in summer soon. Ah, well. Gotta be on with it then.\"\n\n" ]	1
	[WP]You are Poseidon King of the Ocean, ready for a night on the town with the mortals. Mom said you have to bring your little brother with you though, the only problem, he is Broseidon King of the Brocean.	[ "Once, there was only emptiness, then chaos and the others came etc. etc. Cool shit happened and then, I was born. You know the story, I was born and eaten by my father. Zeus saved us etc. etc. After all those fucked up things that I lived through there I was, finally respected and beloved as a god. The Olympian god of the sea, the one with the trident. Me and my brothers, we accomplished so many things, but there was another brother who was such an idiotic creature that even people forgot about him, Broseidon. He was borne from my father's seed when it split into the sea, just like Aphrodite, but at the part where he was created, there was a drunk man. The drunk man puked into the see right before my brother came alive. Yeah, sperm, puke of a drunk man and sea is not a great combination. \n\nAs it was expected, he was a mindless creature, he still is and thanks to my mother Rhea, now I have to babysit him. Even though he is a god, he still has a mind of a child. I mean, even my grandmother Gaea knew he had a mind of a mortal child that she created a little version of ocean and called it \"Brocean\" just to keep him busy. \n\n\"Whazzup, bro? Our old lady told me to hang out with you. We gonna have great time brah, we gonna party and bang some mortal chicks, you know what I'm sayin'?\"\n\nOh no, there he is. Look at him, this disgusting way of speaking, this shitty helmet (reffering to his cap) he is wearing. He is my nightmare.\n\n\"Oh, bro where we going, eh?\"\n\"To the town.\"\n\"Cool, man. Is there gonna be hot bitchez in the town?\"\n\"You are an Olympian god, act like one, brother, or I will make you suffer so much that you will going to wish that you were mortal!\"\n\"Chill bro, Jesus!\"\n\"Who?\"\n\"Ay, show some respect.\"\n\"Who are you to lecture me about respect? You are just a simple-minded accident!\"\n\"Shit man. Look I gotta go, okay. Me and my boy Cupid gonna shot some callipygian asses with his arrows. Here (gives some weed to Poseidon) take this and relax ma man.\"\n\"I cannot let you go. Our mother asked me to bring you with me, I shall obbey her wish, you shall, too.\"\n\"Fuck that bitch brah.\"\n\"How dare you to speak about our mother like that, come back here, now!\"\n\"Fuck you, too. I ain't bitch, I ain't gonna obbey what y'all say, man. Peace, homie.\"\n\nAnd that was it, that was the last time I heard about him. He said those words and vanished into the sea. I searched for him as my mother told me to do but I have never been able to find him. I hope that I would never be able to find that irritating creature." ]	1
	[WP] 2024AD: Germany is about to decommission its last submarine. At the ceremony, a barnacle-ridden rust-covered U-boat surfaces.	[ "Everyone was looking back. All the terrible thimgs Germany has done with submarines. This was reconciliation.\n\nThe general was about to give a speach. Then it came.\n\nIt was an extremely old U-boat. I couldn't hear myself think from the noise of the gasps. The audience clapped; maybe this was part of the ceremony?\n\nThe hatch opened. We heard a thunderous voice. One that no one will ever forget. One of anger, hatred, loathing.\n\nit was Hitler\n\nOne of the men near the general pulled out a pistol to shoot him. It didn't work, we could already hear the marching un-dead army." ]	1
	[WP] It turns out that your favorite First-Person Shooter game is actually a secret project to train soldiers for war - today you've gotten a record-breaking high score, and are approached by the military shortly after	[ "I guess I should have seen this coming going in, given how much of a nerd I am about the game's lore, but it still came as quite the shock. After many years, heroes and events since its release day, I had risen to the top of the Overwatch-player ranks and had even won a few tournaments. I had just won one and was on my way out when I got a very weird phone call. When I saw the caller ID, I did a double-take. \"Um, that's a military number.\", I thought and rushed into the nearest empty room so no one else could hear.\n\n\"Is this Miss Stein,\" I heard an authoritative-sounding voice say. \"Or should I say Black Rose?\"\n\n\"Y-y-yes, this is she.\" I stammered. How the frak did the military know my gaming alias? I didn't think they kept up with that kind of news and it's not like eSports are broadcast anywhere but YouTube. I asked just that, \"How do you know my gaming name?\"\n\nThe voice replied \"That's classified information, miss, and not the NSA kind that got leaked. Anyway, we have noticed your expertise and would like to offer you the opportunity to participate in a unique pilot program. You wouldn't be quite a part of the regular military but it's military enough that we're in charge of it.\"\n\nI was speechless for a couple seconds. Holy Hana Song, was this my life now? I decided to ask Mystery Military Guy the other question that was on my mind. \"Um, sir\", I said. \"By pilot program do you just mean that it's the first of its kind and you're testing the waters or is there going to be any actual piloting involved?\"\n\nHe let out as much of a giggle as his Manly Military Voice could muster and then responded \"Why don't you come to the following coordinates two weeks from tomorrow and see for yourself?\" He then proceeded to give me a set of coordinates I proceeded to type into my phone so I'd remember.\n\nAs I walked out and drove home, my mind was abuzz with the opportunities that awaited me and the mysteries of this program. That and the thought that, though the other Blizzard games existed as is in that universe, there may be a game similar to Overwatch in the universe it takes place in featuring a playable Jewish gamer girl heroine named Black Rose." ]	1
	[WP] Well meaning aliens send an Android that looks like us to ease introductions. Unfortunately, the only thing they know about us comes from an accidentally received transmission of your favorite novel.	[ "\n\tCeremony and speeches are doubtless inevitable when extraterrestrials visit any sentient species for the first time. Still, I had grown tired of the endless words of welcome and promises of peace long before the United Nations Assembly let the android ambassador for the Takqaz speak. It got straight to the point. “I wish to meet with Adam Young. I understand that he didn't want the burden of ruling your planet when he was younger. Based on his absence here today, I assume that has not changed, but if you will permit me to meet with him, perhaps he will assist me as an intermediary.”\n\tMy boss, Tabitha Keffer, freshly-appointed Ambassador of Extraterrestrial Affairs, stared uncomprehendingly at the android while I surreptitiously studied the Elvis whorls in its metallic black hairdo. If that was a deliberate homage to Earth culture, the rest of its design was just as obviously intended to flaunt its superior technological origins, to say nothing of giving defense contractors fevered dreams. Or maybe all those glowy, spiky bits protruding from every joint were just decorative, too? Perhaps we'd never know. In addition to objecting to Tabitha Keffer's appointment on the grounds that she was from Iceland and not the United States, the President of the USA had thrown fits on Twitter because the rest of the world refused to turn the newly-arrived android over for study and, in all likelihood, careful disassembly.\n\tAfter giving my boss several seconds to respond, the android gave up and turned to address the assembly directly. “Please,” it beseeched them, “I come as the envoy of an imperiled people. We need Mr. Pulsifer's assistance.” \n\tRecognition stirred sleepily in the depths of my overworked brain. “Deirdre! Stop staring and find out where Adam Young is,” Tabitha hissed, nudging me sharply in the ribs and pointing at my phone, which I kept hidden under the table because, despite the fact that everyone in the building seemed to be holding one, no one was supposed to.\n\t“You mean who Adam Young is,” I said grouchily as my thumbs moved over the letters. The name did sound familiar.\n\t“And who this Pulsifer is, too, never heard of him,” Tabitha said, then pasted her smile back on as the android fixed her again with its with large, imploring eyes. \n\tScientists had made much of the android ambassador's almost cartoonish features. “Mimicking the young of mammalian species. So we'll want to help it,” they said. “Very clever.”\n\tIt really was strangely appealing. Like a robot kitten. I realized I was staring at it again and looked down at my phone instead. My thumbs had made a mess in the search bar. I tried again. Pulsifer. Why was that name familiar, too? Pulsifer? Adam Young? Even as I finished and pressed enter, a groan of recognition escaped me. It went unheard by my boss, who was maintaining a rapt expression while the android launched into a complicated tale of intergalactic warfare, disputed trade treaties, and fleeing remorseless mechanical warriors. Later, when I watched the news coverage from a U.N. holding cell, I nodded my understanding at the android's keen interest in Pulsifer. \n\tAt that moment, however, the stunned look on my face, fleetingly transmitted around the globe and destined to be the subject of much speculation for days after, had nothing to do with the plight of its alien makers and everything to do with their ambassador's ridiculous error.\n\tI pulled at Tabitha's sleeve, but she just shot me a glare out of the corner of her eye and went on nodding along sympathetically with whatever the android was saying. I saw horrified, bewildered expressions on the faces of many staffers and one or two UN representatives in the assembly seats, however. So. Word was getting out. Chaos would shortly reign. Book sales would soar. The android's bosses would probably melt it down for scrap. \n\tI stood up, silencing the addled android and causing my boss, along with every member of security in the building, to turn lethal gazes on me.\n\tThe android ambassador looked at me with puzzled anime kitten eyes. “Adam Young doesn't exist. Neither does Newt Pulsifer,” I said. “They're just characters in a story. A book called Good Omens. It's by these two writers, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaimen” I added as two obtrusively unobtrusive men started toward me from behind the ranks of camera-crews. I had to lean forward and speak into the table mic to be heard over the bellowing for silence. My boss and the politician on my other side scooted their chairs hastily away to make room for my impending subduing.\n\t“It is a very good book, though, my favorite in fact” I gabbled as hands yanked me up. I raised my voice to a shout as I went over backward. “Read it so many times I've practically got it memorized. Maybe I could help-”\n\tI landed on the floor with a knee in my midsection and an arm across my throat, leaving me no air left to finish my impromptu job interview. Damn. Tabitha was going to fire me for sure, too, especially after what she wrote on my last quarterly review. Impatient. No understanding of or respect for protocol.\n\t I repressed a cringe that might have been taken for resistance as I was lifted and carried off the dais.\n\tMaybe I can get a job in publishing, I consoled myself while a bevy of broad-shouldered, serious-suited men whisked me out of sight. It reminded me of the time I tried to stage dive into a crowd and concert security caught me instead. U.N. Security is way more professional, though. Not one. I know because my shirt stayed on. Hopefully I'd get lucky and they'd just throw me out.\n\tInstead, they handed me into a cell that contained a bench, a combination sink and toilet, a television bolted to the wall, and now me. Well I couldn't be in that much trouble. What were they going to do, charge me with rudeness? Eventually they'd realize I wasn't a threat and release me. Hopefully in time to pay my rent. \n\tI sat down to rub at a bruise on my shin and ponder. Maybe I could be in a commercial? I had just pitched what was about to become the most widely-read book in the world, after all. That must be worth something. Wasn't there going to be a movie, too?\n\tI told myself I was glad I wasn't going to be research assistant to an alien android with Elvis hair. Many boring hours passed, but someone finally switched the TV on remotely and shoved a tray of passable food in through the door slot not long after that. I ate and watched the same coverage over and over with the same commentary in different voices, and congratulated myself on possibly avoiding the hazards of interstellar travel, space warfare, and indigestion from alien food. Not to mention all the new protocol I'd have to memorize all over again and I'd probably get in trouble for violating that, too.\n\tI'll be much better off if I just out of politics entirely, I thought just as my cell door slid open. A gleaming hand beckoned. I didn't hesitate. Earth advertising and publishing would get along fine without me. The Takqaz ambassador obviously needed someone who could do its research for it." ]	1
	[WP] Humanity has made first contact and an alliance has been forged. Surprisingly, it happens to be with the most feared species in the galaxy.	[ "The year is 2420 and humans have finally made contact with an unknown species in the vast universe. Much has changed in human civilization including the adoption of memes as a form of cultural and historical study. During the Dank Meme Boom of the 21st century, a high amount of memers chose to change their surnames to their favorite memes. Hence, the the popular additions of the surnames Harambe, ForeverAlone, SadPepe, Derp, Ytho and many other dank surnames. This movement sparked the meme enlightenment age and brought on a new era of academics and study called meme history. This is contact with aliens proved to be one of the dankest discoveries in meme history because of the utilization of ancient memes in our first contact lead to this alliance with these galactic creatures. This is the uncensored story of Space Captain ForeverAlone and his dank space crew. \n\n\"Space Captain ForeverAlone, it seems that these aliens really do like us,\" said Lieutenant Doge. \n\n\"I don't why Doge, but I just had the strongest urge to meme these fucks just to see how they would react. I ended showing them the Forever Alone meme, which was the origin of my surname that dates back to the 21st century. I expressed to them that at times I was disappointed in my life, felt forever alone, and that meme symbolized my pain in this dank way. They were busting their galactic balls laughing at the meme in relation to my shitty life experiences and I think that's what got to them.\" \n\nDoge looked confused and elated. He had never thought of memeing hard during his militaristic duties and especially in this situation with the most feared species in the known universe. \n\n\"But why though,\" Doge said.\n\nForeverAlone in a stern voice said, \"Memes can make or break worlds. Take our world for example. There is so much insight on time periods, emotions, and events based on every singular, concise bit of meme. They tell a story and I'm just telling them our story through the dankness of memes.\" \n\nDoge's face lit up with joy and in the background General Ytho and Lieutenant Harambe were touched by the inspiration Space Captain ForeverAlone was radiating from his dank explanation. \n\n\"The greatest meme of them of all is that if these memes didn't work with the aliens, we'd all be probably dead right now. Don't worry though they're memeing each other now. They have telepathic powers and can meme by thought. Right now the leader of the species, Kreygas, is telepathically memeing his population with Forverver Alarknark, which is equivalent of our Forever Alone meme.\" \n\nThe space crew went white for a moment, but most sighed of relief knowing that the memes worked out in the end. The humans were galactic homies with the baddest in the universe because of the memes of their ancestors. \n\n", "Earth's oldest alliance on the intergalactic stage was formed long ago, long before humanity could possibly know of its significance. Stories were passed down about the event for generations, each time becoming increasingly altered and vague, until they finally morphed into modern folklore and myths. During all that time that stories were being told and morphed, however, the long forgotten subjects of these stories were watching over our young planet, protecting it from would-be invaders and other threats.\n\nIn much more recent history, when we made (what we thought at the time was) our first contact with humanity's secret benefactor, they revealed that this was in fact our second such meeting. After the public became informed of the meeting, many things suddenly fell into place that shook our collective reality. Some cried while others rioted but, for most of us, time just stood still for a while. However, it appeared progress was not to be slowed by a case of world-wide culture shock. Earth's governments worked swiftly with the alien race to create, what is to date, the strongest coalition in the universe.\n\nOfficially, it is known as the Sector Theta-E Strategic Alliance (STESA) but, here on Earth, most people refer to it by its much more euphonious nickname: the Angel Alliance. Indeed, our long-unknown guardian angels were in fact... well, angels.\n\n\nAuthor's note: I'm too tired to write more now, but I do want to continue this at some point, so I'm just gonna go ahead and post it up here before I accidentally delete everything I just wrote thanks to my sick tech skillz and cat-like reflexes.", "The ship loomed in orbit over the planet, cloaked in artificial shadow so as to avoid being seen. Standing on the bridge, surrounded by a multitude of different species, stood the captain. She was known by many names and aliases, but to a very select few she was known as Seven. This planet, if Seven's intel was correct, still had a fractured governing body, with several different 'leaders' on each of the planet's main expanses of land. Upon first hearing this, Seven furrowed her brow and sighed. At least they had a unified government before leaving their system. The crew didn't bother to learn the entire political landscape of this place - one specific person had contacted them, requesting assistance and laying out a very reasonable proposal. And it was this person, specifically, that Seven took interest in.\n\nBefore too long, there was a blip as a shuttle drifted into view. Well, it was a shuttle by comparison, but the monochromatic plane-shaped craft was large enough to be a vessel in its own right. Barely. The comms engineer opened a channel of communication and after all the verbal procedures, initiated the automated docking process. The crew, along with probably everyone in this side of the galaxy, were thankful to the Corti scientists for making their translators, that's for damn sure.\n\nSeconds pass before another blip indicated that the handshake had failed - the HSC Everdawn couldn't communicate with the shuttle's docking and landing subroutines. The Gaoian engineer sighed, relaying this information to the rest of the command crew. The poor aliens probably didn't have that technology yet, and even so, they were pre-contact and it would not have been standardized. The engineer told the pilot of the craft as much, and was shocked to hear that they were sending their men over \"to cross the gap.\" Were all pre-contact species this insane?\n\nThoughts drifted to the mission at hand. A thought in the back of Seven's mind occurred, one of fear and trepidation at the coming encounter. These creatures were known to be dangerous ever since the incident at Outlook on Forever a few standard diurnals ago, and hell, they were orbiting a fucking Deathworld! NOTHING sapient could reasonably survive here; whatever impossibility was coming for them was going to kill them. Seven quashed the thoughts immediately. This alliance was far too important. The true mission was far too important. There had been sapient life here once. Seven knew the Heirarchy's history. What mattered now is that there was sapient life here again. Seven's job, the true mission, was to infiltrate their ranks and ensure that they never reach the stars. None of the other crew knew.\n\nSoon, three hulking white bipedal quadrupeds creatures with smooth black faces, still chained to the belly of their ship by long white tethers, stepped through the directed force gate and into the atmosphere of the ship proper. The crew was in awe of their durability, even in the vacuum of space between the ships. They broke their connections as they felt the ship's internal gravity generators and walked through a decontamination screen at the medical staff's request. The small, grey, wrinkled Corti was insistent on this, that it was better for all of us not to catch whatever diseases they brought with them. She further convinced these creatures, once they had shed their white false skin (who knew they could do that?) to get a disease suppression implant and a translator implant, should they be meeting with other species from the galaxy. They agreed. This would be easier than I thought.\n\nSeven, along with several of the command staff, sat across from the alien creatures. He could see now that much like their exosuits, these creatures preferred to wear synthetic outer skins, though these didn't cover their pink heads or hands. These suits looked sleek and black, thin strands of fiber woven into a thick, stiff mesh that hung loosely over their form, covering yet another similar mesh of white. Another strip of brightly colored silk was tied around each of their necks, a bright red hue, as if they were trying to strangle themselves. Seven's gaze went upwards to their thinly furred and shaved faces, and an instinctual fear set in as they saw two neat rows of white teeth, and a piercing, predatory gaze. Seven studied them intently, and picked up on their mannerisms. The negotiations went on, and one agreed to return while the other two would be outfitted with a ship of their own, a couple hundred credits, and a map of the Dominion's territory. Seven didn't care that this wasn't her money to give, her task was nearly complete. The meeting adjourned with the center of the creatures reaching across and unintentionally breaking Seven's hand, before Seven went to the captain's private bathroom and promptly threw up.\n\nA change of perspective later and Seven was walking astride the two creatures who were staying starbound, back to their discarded suits. She could feel the dense musculature in this body, more powerful than any she'd previously known. It wasn't a perfect biodrone, so Seven decided to sit back and let her host do the work of getting home using their unfamiliar technology. Better to go unseen until proper arrangements can be taken care of. If anyone were to check on the poor captain at this point, all they would find was a pale Vrs'trk passed out in their quarters and missing most of their head after their implant encountered a critical failure and exploded. Seven was already on the shuttle, headed back down toward the planet the aliens had referred to as Earth. \n\nThis was going to be interesting.", "\"Sir, our space travels have proven successful, we have found a civilisation.\" Said Kiff, sporting his clean uniform as the newly appointed 'intergalactic head messenger'.\nThe captain's face turned to a smile at this news.\"Good, this is spectacular! Are you sure? What should we do, oh I know! Drop a care package with flowers and what not, that way they will know we are nice.\" The captain had once thought that his job was going to be important, secretly searching the universe for other life commanding a crew on a space ship. Oh boy was he wrong. He had been captain for 12 years, only coming down to change the crew and pick up supplies every two years. However 12 years in space doing nothing but playing with the effects of no gravity can get to you. The captain was losing his senses.\n\"Captain, don't you think that is a bit silly? I don't think they will understand flowers.\"\n\"Are you the captain Kiff? No! I have spent a much longer time on this ship, you only joined us this year for gods sake. We send flowers, if they send us something back that doesn't kill us, we drop by for a visit, if they start trying to kill us, we open fire and steal their stuff.\"\n\"Wait- what! We can't just kill them! This is earth's first interaction with aliens, it has to be civil\"\n\"Well then they better accept the flowers.\"\n\"I'm not sending flowers! Anyway, the only flowers on board at the ones James got given by his wife before she passed away, you can't do that to him.\"\n\"He is on the shitter right now, just go into his room and take them, it isn't as hard as you seem to think\"\n\"That's not what I mean-\"\n\"Captains orders, you do know that I have the powers to lock you in solitary confinement right? I can just claim that you have some space disease or something\"\n\"You can't do that all because I refuse to give some aliens we have never met before flowers!\"\n\"Yes I can\"\n\"But- You know what, I'll give them the flowers\"\nWith that Kiff marched through through the captains room and started his way to James' bedroom.\n\nIt was a weird process, going out into space just to deliver some flowers. He didn't need to attach thrusts or anything, with drag the flowers would just move in the same direction forever. However he would have to attach small temperature regulators. The captain probably wouldn't be happy if he sent frozen flowers as a gift. And with an easy well-aimed push, the flowers where delivered. Kiff got a good look at the planet. It was very grey, flowers were definitely something they didn't have, and if they the ship wasn't equipped with life scanners you would think that the planet wouldn't have any life at all.\nThrough the built in voice system of the space suit Kiff spoke \"Flowers delivered sir, but I'm not the one breaking the news to James.\"\n\"No problem, we can get Rell to do that can't we, she is the one in charge of diplomatic discussions, so she must be able to convince James to get over his flowers\"\n\"Rell is in charge of DIPLOMATIC DISCUSSIONS! Why didn't you tell me that! She should of been the one to choose what to do with the aliens, not you!\"\n\"What did you think she did?\"\n\"I don't know, something behind the scenes or something, what is the point of having a captain if you have other people to cover every job?\"\n\"I organise everyone, and punish them when they act badly.\"\n\"But you are crap at organisation, and you are unfair with your punishments!\"\n\"Look, I am the captain, enough said\"\n\"But that's just not-\"\nAll of a sudden a voice came over the ship's speakers, \"glurgle wurble purble\"\nKiff and the captain stayed still stunned, they had no idea what was happening.\n\"To you earth organisms, that means 'Hello, we have received your offering'. I am Orphlius Gorbizalorz Alponzso Promitior Cubort but you can call me 'Tim'. Please come aboard our planet to discuss our future. Over\"\nWith that the system cut off. \nThe captain looked at Kiff and worry began to fill his face. \"Kiff, you have to talk to them for me, if Rell finds out I sent them flowers she will kill me!\"\n\"Well why did you send them flowers in the first place if you knew Rell was going to be unhappy with you!\"\n\"I didn't think they would reply, normally when we find a planet with life, we send them a message, wait 20 minutes, and then blow them up\"\n\"You what! So you have found planets with life before, but you just enjoy blowing them up. Wow\"\n\"Please Kiff! You have to go, Rell can be really tough and she can beat me in a fight, she has done it before.\"\n\"You are the most pathetic captain in the whole universe...\"\nWithout saying another word Kiff logged out of the voice system, unhooked from the ship, and began floating towards the planet.\n\n\"Gluble Turble Warpz\"\n\"This is where we make our weapons, most of our citizens work here\"\nKiff was being given the grand tour of the main facility on the planet, a weapons factory. The rooms were lined with guns, bombs, weird lasers, and some things he couldn't even think of what they might do in his imagination.\n\"When you sent us the gift of green life we were very thankful.\"\n\"Uhh... Tim was it... What do you mean by 'green life'.\"\n\"I believer it is called a 'plant'. 60% of our hatch-lings die because of the bad environment of our planet, with this we can start a proper facility and engineer all sorts of plants to help the larvae grow.\"\nAt the sound of the word larvae Kiff began to wonder if these aliens were really bugs, they didn't look like it, but they didn't look like anything else either. \n\"So Tim... What would you like to discuss with our people\"\n\"Well first of all we would like to thank you again, most civilizations are too scared to make contact with us. This is because we are knows for the 2.61 billion life systems we have wiped out. However, we see that as an achievement which demonstrates our power. But since we have no alliances we are willing to make one with the one race that does not hide from us.\"\n\"Did you say 2.61 billion life systems? As in species, or planets?\"\nKiff was starting to get scared.\n\"Galaxies, you are not destroying the life system of an area if you are only taking out one planet, that is nothing.\"\nKiff wanted to run\n\"So Tim, how do you manage to destroy a whole galaxy?\"\n\"We have very powerful weapons and our space travel is very developed. Let me show you some of our hand held weapons, these are used in sport with other races when we need entertainment. We drop them into an arena and then attempt to shoot them down, well I say attempt, but we always win.\"\nTim and Kiff walked into a room to the left, filled to the brim with weird guns\n\"If you are willing to forge an alliance we could provide you with maybe a small 6 million of these hand held weapons, and 5 space fighters.\"\nKiff had an idea\n\"Uh-huh, could I maybe take one of these on board to my ship to be examined by our crew before we make any decisions?\"\n\"Of course, we want this alliance to work out so feel free to take your time\"\n\"And before I go, how do I fire it?\"\n\"It is simple, pull this back and tap that button\"\n\"Thank you Tim, I will be back, I promise\"\n\nTim board the human space ship with gun in hand and walked towards the captain.\nRaising his hand, pulling the slide back, finger hovering over the button, Kiff said... \"There is a new captain now\" ", "Despite decades of cinematic brainwashing, humanity's First Contact situation went smoother than a baby's bottom. There had been no misinterpretation of militaristic rituals, no translator malfunctions, no irreparable biological differences that could've made communications impossible.\n\nIn fact, it had been textbook. After the successful Europa and Titan missions that proved the viability of our new grav-engines, mankind was soon hailed by an extraterrestrial force just outside the Uranus orbit. \n\nThey had come in peace, though nobody thought they would, given the massive technological superiority - however, some xenoanthropologists later theorized that it was humanity's weakness and relative smallness (in relation to the Galaxy-spanning Xenta Empire), that made conflict unfavorable. \n\nWe survived because there was nothing they could gain from us, aside sating their curiosity.\n\nEarth loved the Xentians. In fact, they became a craze bigger than Justin Bieber back in the early 21st century. Not just because they offered us a hand through the cold vastness of the cosmos, because they proved we were not alone. Not because they hadn't decimated us with their warships. Not because we were alike, as alike oxygen-breathing and carbon-based lifeforms on two opposite ends of the galaxy could be. No, not because of that...\n\n*\n\nKurt was still getting used to the high gravity of Bakkon-II, even after the complete hell of the allied bootcamp back on orbit. He wobbled on the stilts of his exorig, trying to keep balance as he and Fevash climbed uphill, towards the Jarran command base. Even in the rig, he barely reached his partner's shoulder, matching the Xentian's stride with visible effort.\n\nWhen they finally got there, he flopped on his stomach, stretching his aching legs out and cloaked, peering at the structure through his rifle's scope.\n\n\"So\", he hissed in rather broken Xenta. \"You think the intel was right? Their Zealot gonna be there?\"\n\n\"Intel's rarely wrong\", Fevash drawled. He turned his head to Kurt, his huge yellow eye's pupil thinning into a narrow slit. \"S-sshe will be there\".\n\nKurt huffed in disagreement.\n\n\"Yeah, no. Remember the Tsagga Campaign just a few months ago? My brother was there with the Serpents 12th link, got into an ambush... all cuz some egghead misinterpreted the Jarran comms\".\n\n\"Mis-stakes are war's currency, Kkkkurt\", Fevash's voice spliced into a characteristic yowling chirp that the Xentians had for a laugh. \"Anyway. I'm going in. You cover me, yess?\"\n\nKurt smiled wickedly and flipped out his rifles' stand.\n\n\"Nah, chicken-legs. You're on your own. I'm just gonna lie here, pretending it's a nice sandy beach on Hawaii\".\n\n\n\nIt didn't take that long for humans to become a part of the Xentian warmachine. Just around forty Earth years. \n\nWith the aliens' arrival - and the subsequent alliance - came a bunch of perks that humanity was forced to process quickly if it wanted to stay relevant on the galactic scale. \n\nTrue FTL principles. Terraforming technology. Access to parts of the Xentian industry and market. And, arguably the most important - the knowledge that the galaxy was quite a crowded space. Many forms of life thrived in relatively close quarters to each other... and not always peacefully.\n\nThe fact that Xentians were involved in large scale wars with nearly each and every one of their neighbors came to light rather late in the mutual ass-kissing phase, when the governmental alliances and trade had been already established. \n\nWithout having any edge over other galactic powers, pushing for independent politics wasn't only impossible for Earth - it was downright dangerous. However, humanity could prove itself to be useful. The Xentians caught on it, since the records of mankind's history were openly available to the alien benefactors. War was no stranger to man, like it was no stranger to Xenta.\n\nThe Xenta Empire was pragmatic. Any being capable of holding a weapon in the Empire's war-effort had been good enough for them.\n\n*\n\nFevash de-cloaked as soon as he got to the command center's place, to lure the Jarrans out in a display of heresy. Theocratic fanatics, the hexapedal blue-skinned citizens of Jarragan believed scripture over tactics, and as soon as dirty foot of a Xenta warmonger stepped on the sacred soil of the base, they had spilled out of the barracks in droves, overcome by frenzy.\n\nOver the hill, Kurt provided sniper support.\n\nPicking off the Jarrans' kinetic shields, he couldn't help but be mesmerized by Fevash's dance of death. He cloaked and de-cloaked amidst his attackers, materializing to land a blow from his wrist-coil or sink a claw into an unprotected enemy. Every part of the Xentian saboteur was made for delivering violent death - from fang to the tip of the tail which he used a club against the incoming Jarran soldiers.\n\n\"No\", Kurt thought, as he pulled the trigger slowly, exploding the flat, splayed out head-crest of a Jarran fanatic that managed to get to Fevash's back. \"Competing with such a force directly is madness\".\n\nHe had fought with Fevash side to side, of course, on many occasions. But even with the augmentations - the armored exo-rig, the mechanized stilts, AI subsystems that granted greater awareness - humans were still behind. The partnership wasn't fully equal. Still, it was better than being on the receiving end of Xenta Empire's ambitions.\n\nPlus, it's not like they hadn't a niche. \n\nThe gap between man and Xentian was taken as a fact of life - it never needed to be addressed in the joint ranks of the Empire's military, but a human's value in certain fields was stressed and respected. It worked well enough for Kurt and millions others.\n\n\"Getting busssy over here\", Fevash chirped into the comm, as he pushed a dead body off his footclaw and jumped aside nearly three meters, to avoid a ball of plasma. \"The Zealot finally grac-ssed me with her presenc-se\".\n\n\"Just admit you're lonely, chicken-legs\", in one swift motion, Kurt folded the rifle down, and bounced to his feet, servos whining in the planet's abhorrent 2G. \n\nThe channel burst with a screech of static.\n\n\"Need s-some bait, Flatface\".\n\n\n\nUnlike Xentians, humanity's superiority in Earth's ecosystem hadn't been earned by sharp teeth or claws in addition to the brains. Humanity excelled in forging crutches for its biological failings, something the Xentians never needed to the same degree on their home world.\n\nThe Xentian military doctrine revolved around reinforcing their strengths - and it made them perhaps, the most fearsome and reviled force in the galaxy. Yet, it didn't always work. Like with the Jarrans, for example, who's spiritual psychopathy broke every convention of the Xentians pragmatic approach to war.\n\nHumanity offered them a new doctrine - of negating an existent weakness. Xentians, for all their ingenuity, hadn't come up with such things as biological warfare or artificial intellect. \n\nAlso, humans were nimbler, less of a juicy hulking target. Like vermin, they were unnoticeable under the feet of their powerful allies.\n\n*\n\nBoth titans were locked in a death struggle - Fevash's wrist-coil was smashed to bits, pieces of scorched metal melted into the flesh of his arm, and the Zealot's plasma-cannon lay on the sand, empty and useless. The Jarran Commander writhed and yelled profanities as her neck and part of the upper shoulder pair was slowly crushed by the Xentian saboteur's jaws.\n\nThen, Fevash hadn't fared better. The Jarran bigshot managed to punch through his torso's armor, and as he squeezed her neck further, so did the Zealot sink her fingers deeper into his stomach-wound, clawing for the bowels.\n\nCareful to not trip over the bodies, Kurt circled the two, trying to find the best angle of attack. \n\nDespite eyes circling the entirety of the Zealot's head-crest, the position she was in prevented her from losing focus on Fevash, so Kurt prayed that his approach had evaded her attention. He had abandoned the exorig right at the base's entrance, creeping into the battlefield on his own two. In some cases, smaller was better.\n\nYet, still, without the exorig he moved like a slug, fighting the gravity. Over radio, he could hear Fevash's labourous breath. Getting his intestines extracted was, perhaps, as uncomfortable for a Xentian as for a man.\n\n\"I'm gonna jam a sticky 'nade right behind her hip, Fev\", Kurt whispered as he mirrored every sway of the hulking commander's back. \"On my three, you let go, if you don't want to splode with her\".\n\n\"One\", with all his remaining force, Kurt brought the grenade's working end onto the Zealot's tough hide. It barely went through, but the howl of pain told him that at least some of the hooks sunk in.\n\n\"Two\", he pressed down the detonator.\n\n\"Three!\"\n\nThe explosion wave picked him up and threw away like a rag doll. The soft-suit's EM systems blew up with a deafening wail of sirens, screaming about damage and danger. Something peppered Kurt with a wet sound, pieces of flesh and chitin. As the ringing in his head cleared up, he opened his eyes, squinting against the light and dirt on the helmet's visor. \n\nHis left leg was broken, the EM concluded and died out, possibly fried. The pain was yet to come.\n\nFevash stood over him, hand outstretched. It always amazed Kurt, how small those hands were, how human-like...\n\n\"Alive\", the Xentian growled, cocking his head sideways, lip curling to bare the sharp teeth in a sardonic grin - Kurt picked up an amused satisfaction in his partner's voice. \"Comes as a s-ssurprise every time\".\n\n\"Not going to offer you the pleasure, chicken-legs\".\n\nKurt grabbed the offered hand and looked up at Fevash with an expression of deep, almost religious adoration - something he shared with most of humanity.\n\nTurned out, that mankind had an irresistible pull towards Xentians, a sort of child-like fascination that dictated their loyalty across parsecs of void.\n\nEarth just couldn't get enough of space dinosaurs.\n" ]	5
	[WP] You arrive at work to find the place in chaos. Buildings are on fire, the US military is in retreat, and what used to be the intern is tossing cars around. "It's last Monday all over again," you sigh as you clock in.	[ "\"Oh well.\" I set down my briefcase and take out my laptop. Looking out my shattered window, I can still see good 'ol Joe is having his little fits again. I open up Microsoft Word and estimate about how much this will cost our company. Not too bad today. I sigh. I hate this time of week, it's hard to focus with all of the screams and gunfire down below me. A burning pickup truck hits the building next to my cubicle. \n\nJust another boring Monday.\n\nI walk to the cafeteria. A fifteen-by-six hole in the shape of a man is in the wall. That's strange, where are all the people? \n\nIt's like nobody ever comes here.\n", "“And the one before that,” the other - better - intern chimes in helpfully. Or unhelpfully. It’s hard to tell when someone squeezes that much pep into every sentence.\n\n“Why do you stay here Sybs? You don’t seem the type for paperclip and insole sales.”\n\n“Tough market,” she chirps and, god, how is she still smiling? That’s her car the other - worse - intern just threw into orbit.\n\n“There’s always something going in construction.”\n\n“That’s okay, I like it here.” Did she just wink? Who winks when they’re backlit in flames? “There’s no competition to be the best.”\n\nWith that she winks - does that count as inappropriate behaviour yet? There must have been a seminar on this - and turns away, her body rippling into her, for lack of a better word, Monday form. She goes straight through the wall - dammit, that just got replaced - and dives into the atmosphere to pick up her car.\n\nIt’s been 57 weeks since the interns revolted and declared Monday an ‘aggressive strike’ day. Productivity is down 9000%, the world leaders haven’t accomplished a single goal due to lack of caffeine, but hey, you don’t have to pay for parking.", "I took a moment to assess the situation. Everything on fire, the United States Armed Forces in a hasty and disorganized retreat, and monsters roaming the streets. A deafening concert of screams, howls, growls, and gunfire. I sniffed the air a couple of times. Brimstone, chemicals, and blood. Lots of blood.\n\nThis is a typical day at work for me. Scratch that, a boring day. I am Agent Nigel Banks of the ETAF, the End Times Aversion Force. Our goal is to nip doomsday scenarios in the bud before they get out of hand. When the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse show up, we'll be the ones who ride out to meet them.\n\nI walked over to the dropship, where one of my colleagues was chatting to a panicked General who clearly wanted to be anywhere but here right now.\n\n\"Morning, Dave,\" I called.\n\n\"Hello, Nigel,\" he shouted back.\n\nI walked over and asked, \"Sitrep?\"\n\n\"Cat-IV, Zed-Type.\"\n\n\"Excuse me,\" said the General, \"What?\"\n\nI sighed and said, \"ETAF codes. Category 4 is a risk assessment, and a pretty bad one, as you can see. \"Zed\" means \"zombies,\" in this case anything that turns humans into rampaging monsters and has a transmission vector. And the first rule of a Zed scenario is 'Do not send in an army.' Now get your men out of here before any more of them are turned. At this point, you're just making more work for us.\"\n\nThe General was more than happy to take to his heels, leaving me and Dave alone.\n\n\"I see you let Danny off the leash early,\" I said, nodding towards the writhing mass of tentacles sprouting from the skull and spine of our limp intern, who was presently hurling abandoned cars into the zombie horde. One of them struck a support pillar for a nearby building, toppling it into a crows of zombies. \"Attaboy, Dan,\" I shouted at him, and he turned to flash me an overly toothy grin. I whispered, \"You did remember to refill the tranqs in his control collar, right?\" to Dave. He nodded, and I breathed again.\n\n\"You know, I'm having deja vu over this whole thing,\" I said thinking, \"This feels a lot like last Monday.\"\n\n\"Funny you should mention that,\" said Dave. \"We missed a spot, it seems, and the vector mutated. A lot tougher now.\"\n\n\"Dammit,\" I said, \"The Boss is going to be pissed.\"\n\n\"He is pissed, Nigel,\" said Dave, \"He's authorized Skeleton Key.\"\n\nI whistled. Some of the equipment lockers were sealed until authorized, because the contents were too risky, dangerous, expensive, or illegal to use for just anything. Skeleton Key protocols meant unlocking all of them, and then using the handbook for ammo. We had free reign to deal with this situation as we pleased. Today just got a lot more interesting.\n\nJust then, Benjamin flew in on his airbike. \"Sorry I'm late,\" he hollered as he drifted into a parked position beside us. \"Call came right in the middle of breakfast, and damned if I'm eating on an empty stomach. What'd I miss?\"\n\n\"Cat-IV, Zeds. Mutated strain from last Monday, Skeleton Key authorized.\" said Dave.\n\n\"Daaamn,\" said Ben, \"Been a while since we last got that.\"\n\n\"Dio de los Muertos incident, Yucatan Peninsula, last year,\" I confirmed.\n\n\"Good times,\" said Ben.\n\n\"All right,\" Dave interrupted, \"Danny's running out of cars to throw, so enough chit-chat, lets get geared up.\" Ben and I nodded, and walked into the dropship.\n\nThe lockers opened as we entered. \"Hello boys,\" came the voice of Jen, our pilot over the speaker. \"Hello Jen,\" said Ben and I in unison.\n\n\"Jen, the military is evacuated, and we've been authorized to use Skeleton Key. Release the hounds.\" ordered Dave. The hounds were are area suppression drones, rigged to shoot anything that moved, and wasn't one of us. Hence the need for the military to be gone before they could be deployed.\n\n\"Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war,\" shouted Jen, as the hounds' engines powered up.\n\nMeanwhile, the three of us were suiting up. Powered armor and shotguns with bayonets and attached repeating grenade launchers were standard issue, but today we got to break out the fun toys. Ben opted for a gauntlet-mounted thermal lance, a lighting rifle, and shock-shoes, specialized boots designed to fire shaped charges from the heel for fast propulsion or a powered up kick. Dave nabbed a raygun, which could punch a precise hole in everything a specified distance in front of the barrel. I, personally, preferred to keep it simple, grabbing several box magazines of various grenades, and a gyrojet pistol. We all strapped on jetpacks, and headed out.\n\nIt took us the better part of an afternoon to clear everything out. Ben took point, cutting a path through the horde with his weapons, leaving a trail of charred corpses. Dave, meanwhile, found a rooftop to snipe from, dealing with larger centers of activity. I hopped between the rooftops, conserving jetpack fuel and firing grenades into the streets. I used imploders, at first. They condensed nearby matter, creating a one-foot radius vacuum that violently imploded, dragging anything nearby with it. Through careful placement, I was able to gather zombies together and take them out with explosive buckshot set to a wide choke.\n\nIt didn't take us long to find the center of the outbreak, a large skyscraper near the middle of the city. I caught up with Ben as he was staring up. Zombies were climbing all over. \"About time,\" he yelled when he saw me, \"No way I can make it in alone.\"\n\n\"Clear me a path,\" I shouted back, \"I have an idea.\" I loaded my launcher with repulsors, high-powered concussive grenades designed to fling everything nearby backwards while causing minimal structural damage. We charged in, Ben using his lance to deal with anything that got to close, and I using my grenades to keep anything farther away at bay. When we reached what I thought was the center of the building, I put down a disk charge and set the timer. Then we ran.\n\nA few minutes after we left the building, the charge went off, sending out a circular cutting blast that destroyed the entire first floor. The building toppled like a Jenga tower. Ben and I exchanged high-fives, before I called Jen and said, \"Jen, we've dealt with the outbreak center. Send in the hounds for cleanup.\"\n\n\"Will do. You need a pickup?\" she asked.\n\n\"Negative,\" said Ben, \"I want to get some more target practice in.\"\n\nOur day had just begun.", "I pulled up to the office around noon, the place was mostly deserted now, so there definitely wasn't any competition for parking spaces. I parked my old Jeep in the first handicap spot closest to the doors. Who was gonna tell on me? I stepped out, grabbed my brief case, and started my brisk walk toward the entrance. \n\nThings had gotten increasingly worse over the past few days. Spent casings and the weapons that fired them littered the asphalt below. I took caution stepping over the automatic weapons and explosives as to not set anything off. The reinforced doors and windows were peppered with impact points of bullets and blunt objects. I produced a keycard from my jacket pocket and swiped it in front of the scanner. There was a moment of silence then a satisfying beep and the doors unlocked for me. I entered, quickly pulling the door closed behind me. \n\nThe main lobby was deserted. Newspapers and crumpled up coffee cups decorated the tile floor. The receptionist desk was unmanned, the phone off the hook repeating the same line over and over again. \"We're sorry. All circuits are busy. Please try again later.\" I sighed.\n\nThe elevator was no longer an option. I had to lock it down the previous day due to a breach. The individual had expired but there was no need for further contamination. So to the stairs it was.\n\nFifteen flights was a hell of a walk, but Mom always told me I needed some physical activity anyway.\n\nI zigzagged my way up the stairs, dodging the dark crimson stains on the concrete steps. When I reached my floor, I produced my keycard again, the door opened and waiting on the other side was my new found friend, Victor.\n\n\"W-Where have you been?!\" his voice cracked. His face was pale, sweat beading on his forehead. His grey hair and beard looked like it'd turned a few shades lighter over night.\n\n\"Didn't see any reason for being here at Nine on the dot. Not like there's anyone here to discipline us, right?\" I smirked.\n\nVictor's jaw went slack. \"You're fucking kidding me, right?\"\n\n\"What?\" I pushed past him, sat my briefcase down on a desk, and popped it open.\n\n\"I mean, seriously. I get that you were just a janitor here, but this is some serious shit were in here, pal.\"\n\nVictor continued to rattle on as I produced two vials from the briefcase. He trailed off as his attention locked onto them.\n\n\"You got them...\" he said in disbelief, \"You fucking got them!\" he slapped me on the back.\n\n\"So how's this gonna help?\" I asked, closing the case, and handing over the vials.\n\n\"Blood from an actual living specimen is going to go a long way in creating a cure.\" Victor said, with excitement.\n\nI nodded. \"Sounds good.\"\n\n\"Your damn right. I have to ask though, where'd you get them? How'd you manage to get blood from a living specimen without getting killed?\"\n\nI looked down at the floor... \"Thomas.\" I said, rubbing my brow. \"Got it while he was still knocked out, before I sealed the elevator. That was after you left yesterday.\"\n\n\"Ah, serious? The intern? Fuck...\" Victor slid his back down the wall until his ass met the floor. \"Kid showed promise.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well his death won't be in vain if you can fix this.\"\n\nWe both grinned at the thought. Then we were on our backs as an explosion tore through the building. \n\n\"What in the actual fuck!\" Victor roared, trying to get back to his feet.\n\nI scrambled to mine, and went to the nearest window. The military, or what was left of it anyway, was squaring off against something in the parking garage area of our building. \n\n\"What's going on?\" Victor was panting.\n\n\"I don't know. Military is going after-\" then I saw it. It was Thomas. He'd survived and escaped from the elevator somehow. \n\n\"Is that...?\"\n\n\"Yep,\" I frowned, \"Must have tore through the service hatch and climbed down the shaft. Busted through the parking garage doors.\"\n\n\"Sonofabitch.\" Victor mumbled. \n\nA yellow Mercedes came flying into view, slamming into one of the military transport vehicles. They started shouting and running off in random directions. \n\n\"This is just like last week with Yasmin.\" Victor pointed out.\n\nHe was right. Yasmin was patient zero. Military had tried to contain her here but it was pointless. It had all started here. Might as well finish it here too.\n\n\"Yep. It's last Monday all over again. Let's get this cure thing rolling, Victor.\"\n\nHe nodded in agreement and made for the lab, vials in hand.\n" ]	4
	[WP] Valhalla grows in length as more warriors occupy it. The farther down the table you go, the farther back in time you go. You decide to try to find the head of the table as a new arrival.	[ "Baloth Stormcaller had earned his name. His warcry could be heard across the fleet. It sent goosebumps through every soldier. At the front lines, Rojak and his crew heard the cry. Their ships were pushing towards the battlefield. The wood shook and a few men fell as the front crashed into the beach. Rojak tossed himself over the side, axe in hand. He gave out a roar for his own men and the fight had begun. Britains were waiting for them on the coast. They wore furs and were armed with whatever they could get off of the Romans. Rojak was better prepared. He wore a fine gambeson with a plate shoulder piece on his left arm. He carried a Roman shield to block arrow fire when running into battle, but no helmet. He preferred to let loose his red hair and thick beard. His eyes burned yellow. One enemy was ready for him, and swung at him with a longsword. Rojak blocked the attack with his shield and sliced open the Britain’s stomach. \n\tBaloth’s call was heard again. This time, it threatened to tear open the doors of Valhalla itself. The rest of the fleet had arrived, swarms charged into battle. Rojak ran in, blocking a volley of death with his shield. He then tossed the item at a coming soldier, burying his axe in the poor bastard as he fell to the ground. Two more came charging. Rojak rolled aside and sliced at the back of the closer one’s neck. The other was more careful, waiting for Rojak to make the first move. They moved about in circles, until Rojak became impatient. He tossed the axe at the enemy and reached quickly for the deadman’s sword. Rojak sliced upward as he rose, ripping across the soldier’s chest. Rojak went on to find a new enemy, until he felt a piercing at his back, looking down, the Britain’s sword had torn through him. Rojak turned, screaming and swung his own blade, killing the foe. \n\tRojak fell to the ground, looking up at the sky. Birds flew over peacefully, and bright blue sky looked down on red sand and the screams of war. He heard the stomping of feet, the clashing of steel, the call of Baloth cut short and replaced with drowned coughs. These sounds drifted away, and were slowly replaced with a soft hum, and the soft hand of a woman. Above Rojak stood an armored warrior, with feathers upon her helm. She carried a metal javelin and her breastplate was laced with gold. As she pulled Rojak from the ground, the hum gradually became the thrum of a harp. Rojak opened his eyes to a great hall. \n\tThe bridge appeared to be the skeleton of a massive dragon. Across it stood to massive wooden gates, marked with an image of Yggdrasil, and the nine realms. The hall was as wide as three war ships, and at each side the roof peaked into the shape of a dragon. Two massive braziers stood at either side of the gate, and at one sat the woman. \n\tRojak walked over the bridge. Looking down, the night sky with it’s many colors and stars was present. It reminded him of long voyages over the sea he had known his whole life. Above was darkness, but in it was shape. Somehow the darkness seemed to break in places, and there could be seen branches weaving out and around. Turning back to the woman, Rojak stepped onto the snow.\n\t“Welcome Rojak.” The woman did not look up, but instead was sharpening an axe. \n\t“What is this place?”\n\t“You know this place, it was promised to you as a lad.”\n\t“This cannot be true. I am not worthy.”\n\t“Oh, but you are, you are one of many who earned their presence in this great hall”\n\t“What of my crew? What of Baloth? There are better men who died on that beach.”\n\t“Here you are mistaken, the Allfather does not choose wrong. Each of those men carried selfish pride and cowardly doubt in their heart. They lusted for the women of their victims, they thirsted for the blood of their enemy’s children. Vengeance was not enough for them, and neither was the wealth of war. They had no will to build where they had burnt, and eyed your place too much.”\n\t“What of Baloth? Surely the Stormcaller was good.”\n\t“That man was great, truly, but he has not fallen, the Gods have plans yet for him.” She stood. “Enough about Midgard, your place is here,” with that she opened the gates and music flooded out. \n\tDancers ran to and fro, a woman came and took Rojak’s arm, hopping steadily to the beat. A bard hopped on the table. \n\t“Oooh there once was a king from the desert afar.\n\t His beard was read and his eyes like tar.\n\t The Gods gave him gold and throne, and bliss.\n\t But it was a lie without a kiss.\n\t So the king sent word across the sea\n\t Bring your flowers o’er to me\n\t\n\t Along came wolves and bears and sheep\n\t Came pigs and birds and maids in heeps\n\t But not one could light the kings flame\n\t His joy was put out and his search to shame\n\t \n\t Then came moon adorned in red\n\t She looked in his eyes and softly said\n\t Demons cold and angels bare\n\t My heart is yours, my bed to share”\n\tCheering swung through the crowds, Rojak clapped along.\n\t“How did you like my melody?”\n\t“It was a bit rough, how did you enter these halls?”\n\t“I was a young lad growing up in manor nowehre the Gods know. My father told stories of my mother who died birthing me. He never was really there himself. One day his body caught up with his mind and I was to become king. I was young at the time, and my father’s guard was his advisor for most his life. I told the man that the crown was his, and took enough gold to buy myself a harp. I left that place and journeyed the world singing songs.”\n\tRojak walked on. That story was strange. Valhalla was known as a hall for heroes of war, how could a bard enter without bloodshed? Fireplaces were set along the walls, every 20 or so paces. A table centered the room, stretching on for what seemed like ages. There were people all over. Kings and soldiers, boys and women, bards and smiths. Rojak came upon a man dressed in full armor, with a triangular symbol on his breast.\n\t“I have never seen armor of such mold, where are you from?”\n\t“I was of Sparta, the greatest city of Greece. My name is Romulus. And yours?”\n\t“I am Rojak, of the Red fleet. I need to ask, how is it you came into this hall?”\n\t“Ah, a story I do love to tell. I was a hardened warrior of Sparta, I prayed every day to the mighty Ares for strength and courage. One day, we were gathered in the city and told we would be fighting with the Athenians. I was bewildered, until I discovered that the Persians were coming in mass. To protect Greece, we would hold the line until the rest of our people could prepare. The battle meant certain death, but I was willing. The fighting went on for longer than anyone could have hoped. Apollo came and left many times, overlooking bloodshed everytime. I fell protecting our leader, and bled out at his feet.”\n\tRojak walked on. This was a more understandable journey, the Spartan fought and died in battle, though for different Gods. The next site interupted his train of thought.\n\t“Hullo,” said a little girl no older than four.\n\t“Greetings,” replied Rojak, reaching out his finger for the girl to hold.\n\t“You’re new here, I can see it in your eyes. My mother said that a man’s soul was in there eyes, and that you could see their animal spirit in those eyes to. You know what I see in yours?”\n\t“What is that?”\n\t“The same as everyone else here, I see wolves.”\n\t“How did you lose yourself little one?”\n\tThe girl looked down, and clenched her fist a few times. “My pa was out hunting, and my mother was caring for my little brother. I sat waiting for dinner to cook. A bear came and sat right next to me,” she gestured, showing how close the bear was to her, “ it just started eating our venison, I was so scared, I started crying. My mom came out to see what was going on, and tossed a spear at the bear. It wasnt too happy about that,” tears were welling up in her eyes, “I went over to where my brother was sleeping and pushed the bolder in front of the opening. The bear was done with mom by then. I smeared my blood on the rock so my pa could find his son.”\n\tRojak walked on. He couldnt understand. Little children and bards walked in the same hall as strong warriors. As he pondered, he noticed that the people were becoming more scarce this far down the hall. The fireplaces grew further apart. A light shown far in the distance. A man was sitting alone at the fireplace.\n\t“Hello.”\n\t“Welcome, Rojak”\n\t“Who are you”\n\t“I am the first”\n\t“The first what?”\n\t“The first one in this hall.”\n\t“How did you come into this hall?”\n\tThe man looked up, and took a deep breath.\n\t“I killed my brother.”\n\t“What?”\n\t“I beat my brother to death with a bone jaw of a wolf.”\n\t“Why?”\n\t“The man slaughtered his children as sacrifice to his God, I couldnt allow my nephews to be his victims any longer. So one day, in a field, I took the jaw and beat his head in. At first it was easy, a swing of my arm, but the man was stubborn. I cried as I ended my brother. Each strike sent shivers up my spine, but who am I to complain, I was the one holding the weapon.”\n\t“How does one enter this hall”\n\t“One enters this hall by serving others, not themselves. When the day comes that we are called to service again, an army will be needed that is loyal, and cares for each other. A pack of mighty warriors, and humble bards, people to arm the strong, people to strengthen the meak, and people to guide the heartsick.”\n\t“When will that day come?”\n\t“That day has come and gone as many times as the Sun, we will not go however, until the army is complete.”\n\t“How long until then?”\n\t“Until the last good man dies. In other words, not long at all.”", "John Clarke, captain of the UNS Sao Paolo, killed in action in 2115 against pirates in the Belt.\n\nThere's not too many people from my time here at the table, with the Mars war a generation in the past and the last war on Earth outside of living memory. A lot of guys and gals from World War Three, stretching down as far as I could see, in fact, and they all wanted to hear about how our technology was progressing, cursing at the fact that we still hadn't found intelligent aliens. \n\nI was set, though, on making my way up the table. It's not exactly forbidden, but it's a difficult process since you tend to get into fights as you go. The whole respawn thing encourages it. The American soldiers from WW3 were really bellicose, and it took me thousands of fights to make it through. As a Naval officer I wasn't much use with my fists or a gun, at least at first. \n\nAfter dealing with the WW3 folks, the next few batches were easier – training got more sophisticated over time, I suppose. Had some really interesting talks as I went, especially with the ones who were there at key historical battles.\n\nThings started to get strange as I made it into the 1700s – getting scalped isn't fun, let's just put it that way.\n\nI lingered for some time with the War of the Roses crew, since understanding the old folks was getting more difficult, and my Mandarin had long since become useless, so I had to work on older variants of the Chinese languages. \n\nWhile these people were tough, the numbers got fewer and fewer as I went along, which goes part in parcel with a smaller population. Passing through the actual Vikings was interesting. Not fun, but interesting. One thing about the Table – the theme changes to reflect where you are. At my starting point it was a nice Naval cafeteria with attached bar, by the time I met Ragnar Lothbrok it was a smokey longhouse with alehorns being passed around freely. By this time I was quite the fighter, so I managed to avoid being blood-eagled. \n\nI was killed twelve times by one Spartan warrior who refused to let me pass without a win. Finally got him with a knife throw to the eye, and was rewarded with a first hand account of Thermopylae. \n\nI don't know how long I walked for. A thousand year? More? It doesn't really matter.\n\nFinally, I began to sense I was close. I fought men in furs, with spears tipped in bone. I won easily, they were strong and fierce but I had learned a thousand schools of hand to hand and armed combat in my time here.\n\nAnd then it happened, I reached the Head. There was merely a fire there, under a night sky resplendent with stars unspoiled by even the hint of artificial light. A single man sat, a hairy and atavistic ancestor with a great beard, heavy brow, deeply tanned and lined skin, and a single eye, with an eyepatch covering the other. In he hand he held a simple wood spear, the tip fire-hardened to a sharp point.\n\nI sat down beside him, silent at first. \"Who are you?\" I asked in the First Tongue, from which all the others flowed. \n\nHe grinned at me, with a mouth full of surprisingly straight and white teeth, if a little larger and sharper than I was used to. \"The first man to kill a lion!\" he said proudly. \"Lion killed me too, though,\" he continued with a chuckle. \"As for this place? Well, I have always thought that my people made it for me. The second to come here,\" he said, gesturing his thumb at another man asleep on the grass, who I had missed on my approach, \"He told me that when he was a boy, his Uncle told him that brave warriors come to meet the Lion Killer when they die, and feast and fight forever. Now men kill each other and not lions, but all who come here are brave and honorable. This is the home for those who die Protecting.\"\n\nWe are silent for a moment, looking up at the stars. At length he speaks again. \"Tell me, young one, what news is there of the world? The last time I heard news from the front, hmm... I met a man who was killed by one named the Great Khan. What news since then? Have the great oceans yet been crossed?\"\n\nI smiled at that, pointing up at a certain star. \"The greatest oceans have been crossed. See that? We call it Alpha Centauri. I was born there, on our new world, which we call Eden...\". \n\nWe spoke for years, I think, before I headed back to the front. I had to hear whether anyone had found some damn aliens, after all." ]	2
	[WP] The journal you've had for life suddenly starts to make everything you write into it, stories, drawings, or anything else become real.	[ "I couldn't believe what I had in my hands.\n\nEverything I was writing, it was almost instantly showing up in real life. I knew something like this has to be kept secret and definitely wasn't safe but I needed to tell someone.\n\nI biked to my friend's house as fast as I could. In between panting breaths, I explained everything to her about what I had.\n\nOut of all the things she could have said.\n\n\"Does that mean...we can write ourselves into Ocean's Eleven and become rich?\"" ]	1
	[WP] We're sorry, but the ritual has been rescheduled for the next solstice.	[ "The torrent of boos was getting hard to bear. Leader lifted his hands trying to calm down the crowd, but the boos just rained down harder. It was also actually raining pretty hard in a weather type of way. Even through his thick and ornate hood, the water seeped in and sent some cold, wet chills from neck to butt crack. He looked out at the angry crowd and even though his vision was muffled by his porcelain mask which was handed down from leader to leader for generations, he could still see that his flock was angry enough to start throwing shit at him. Luckily that robe was thick at not just the hood, but all the way down to his toes. As the crowd, now verging on more of like a mob, was pelting him with leftovers from the great pre-ritual feast, the lukewarm food just kind of bounced off him and slopped on the ground and got all mushy in the rain.\n\n\"Acolytes, please! Settle yourselves! We're going to have to reschedule the ritual for the next solstice.\" The boos intensified and the food kept thudding in. \"Listen to me! Listen! The sacrifice was not suitable for this ritual! We will find another for the next solstice, I promise you all!\"\n\n\"You said he was the perfect sacrifice!\" One of the especially brazen acolytes yelled out. \"You said this sacrifice would make for a perfect ritual and the Gods would grant us powers beyond our wildest dreams! Your words exactly!\"\n\n\"I uhh, yes I did say that but, umm well...\" Leader fumbled around a bit looking towards his high councilmen for some sort of cue or piece of advice.\n\n\"Where is the would be sacrifice now?\" Another acolyte called out pulling up her mask. She was ugly in a tough way, but one thing was for certain, the passion in her eyes showed that she was really looking forward to this ritual.\n\n\"The sacrifice? He's uhh, he's still in his cell of course! Where he shall remain for the rest of his days\" Leader folded his arms trying to look authoritative.\n\nAnother acolyte ripped his mask off, stepped forward, and faced towards the mob. \"I just walked by the cells on my way back from the bathroom and they were completely empty!\" He pointed towards Leader. \"I think Leader is hiding something!\" The mob cheered as the acolyte smugly turned his back to the leader. Pointing his thumb over his shoulder, he added, \"I bet Leader doesn't even have the sacrifice!\"\n\nLeader jumped off the stage, pulled out his zig zag bladed ceremonial dagger, and sliced open the smug acolyte's throat in one swift motion. \"HA! This man was the sacrifice the whole time! The ritual has begun! Rejoice my brothers and sisters! REJOICE!\" Leader threw his hands up in the air clutching the dagger expecting the mob to cheer, but they weren't falling for it.\n\nThe tough and ugly acolyte raised her voice, \"We ain't believin' this load. Tell us what's going on here!\" She drew her less fancy, but sharp all the same, dagger. The mob followed suit (being the followers they are).\n\n\"The truth?\" Leader looked at the mob. This was a delicate situation. One wrong move and he knew this thing was going to come crumbling down like all those wet sloppy food scraps. He decided to try a new angle. \"Truthfully, the sacrifice escaped.\" He looked over to his councilmen who were waving there hands no, trying to get him to stop. \"He got loose last night, beat up a few guys, stole some keys and then just... he got away. He's gone and we can't find that slippery bastard.\" The mob went silent in disbelief. Leader bowed his head a bit in shame. \"Ya know -\"\n\nSHINK! Leader felt a stabbing like pain in his shoulder. The tough and ugly acolyte stabbed him right in that meaty spot between the actual shoulder and the chest, right under the collar bone. She twisted the knife as he dropped hard to his knees. His thick robe absorbed the physical impact, but couldn't do anything about the emotional. She turned towards the crowd. \"I say we still have a sacrifice tonight! The ritual is back on!\" The mob cheered and swarmed Leader, picking him up by his arms and legs. He tried to resist, but this batch of acolytes were a strong bunch and all he could do was yell out for his councilmen who were hightailing it out of there.\n\nAs Leader laid there on the sacrifice altar with the ceremonial dagger raised above his heart, he couldn't help but wonder, \"Did I misinterpret that prophecy?\"\n\n", "&nbsp;\n\n\"W... w-what?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe High Priest Zachariah stared down at the now lifeless corpse of his son, whose limbs dangled limply from the edge of the sacrificial altar. He stared into the lifeless blue eyes; those beautiful aquamarine irises were now locked eternally with the grey, drizzling sky overhead, as the sun began to sink beneath the cruel and uncaring horizon.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"The Gods apologize for the inconvenience.\" \n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"You... you can't be serious...\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe servant of darkness, currently hovering before Zachariah with a pair of tattered hellish wings, clearly was serious, and at the sound of this desperate utterance, he let slip an apathetic sigh. Moments later, when it did continue speaking, its voice was insufferably nasally and utterly British.\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Sorry, sir... But the ritual's just not gonna be possible at this time, I'm afraid.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nZachariah let the sacrificial dagger drop from his hands, and while he heard it clang noisily down the ritual platform's steps, he continued to stare at the blood pouring from his son's slit throat, his expression blank and pallid.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Matthew...\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTears began to stream down Zachariah's face; upon seeing them, the servant couldn't help but groan with annoyance.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Oh, come on. Don't be like that, you know how stuff comes up for the gods all the time. You've got like... what, six other kids down the pipeline, right? Small price to pay for immort-\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"MATTHEW!!!\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nZachariah screamed this, and fell over his son, sobbing into the cold chest of the dead boy; his face pressed up against the damp, clammy flesh as he writhed in broken sorrow at the pointlessness of the loss.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe servant rolled his eyes, \"Look, this shouldn't even come as a surprise to you, they scheduled the whole thing long in advance... Did you even check Sagittarius before you did all this? Always gotta check, celestial misalignment basically said it all... and they changed that shit MONTHS ago.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nZachariah continued to cry and scream, his face pressed against the cold chest of his son.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Alright, whatever, just get it out of your system... I mean, you would have had to kill him eventually... the Gods want them in order, oldest to youngest, by the way... They told you that, right?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAmidst the sporadic sobbing and the violent trembling of Zachariah's clenched fists, the servant received no response.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Got it, you're busy... alright, well, just remember, next solstice is the reschedule, so if you don't wanna crumble to ash, then-\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"I DON'T WANT TO LIVE LIKE THIS ANYMORE!!!\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWith this, Zachariah clambered down the ritual platform's steps, drawing up the knife and pointing it down towards his chest.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"I'm sorry, Matthew...\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIn one brutal motion, he brought the knife down into his gut.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n...only for it to be stopped by his steel flesh.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnother servant pokes his head in from the void, \"We gave him a year extension for the meantime, by the way...\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Bad timing, Dave.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nZachariah is screaming madly, writhing on the floor.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Got it, bad timing... uh, sorry about all this, or whatever...\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe servants slip into nothingness, and Zachariah's rage eventually slows, as he rolls over briefly, catching sight of the grey and brutal sky. Tears well up in his eyes, as the rain pours down on his upturned face, and he stares up into the dim twinkle of Sagittarius, now hanging just above him...\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOh... fuck me, they were right.\n\n&nbsp;\n" ]	2
Edit: Right near the start of the apocalypse.	[WP] Write a story featuring an post apocalyptic wasteland set in a magical world.	[ "The wind howls as it blasts through the remnants of the capital. Malformed creatures slink through, their eyes hungry for sustenance. The once beautiful city of Magi was a beacon of the future, now a haunting reminder of the ravages of power.\n\nThere are only a couple of thousand magic users in the world now. Most of them shun their power when they see the destroyed planet. The normal people, those blessed to not be able to use magic are able to live normal lives. They will never have to deal with the headaches I now endure.\n\nAs one of those who hasn't turned his back on his heritage, I am ... encouraged to leave any town who discovers that I am 'active'. While I may not like them for it, I can't blame them. And it's not just for this ruined world either. Magically charged storms ravage the world, and creatures hae a chance of becoming twisted abominations who can feed off of magical energy. They howl or scream in appreciation of the storm. They can sense its presence.\n\nLupine type animals can either absorb the others of their pack to become a physically more powerful and aggressive monster that tracks Actives, or they can enhance their own capabilities based on how many in the pack. Felines can either turn invisible or teleport as they hunt. Ursines become undead monsters that feed on anything. Not much else survived. Bovines are still docile, they regenerate. And can talk.\n\nBut for now, I drift along this world trying to survive. No-one knows much about the war that broke our world, but I find it something fascinating, and hopefully I can help fix what damage they caused. So, here I crouch, peering into the city that is teeming with that which will stalk me.\n\nMy hair is gone. My skin is tanned from the exposure to the sun, and my mind is almost as sharp as the headache I constantly endure. I have found a few crystal shards, which is apparently what was used to store information or conversations before the Apocalypse. And I found a clue. A name of a noble house involved in the War. Draconis. From what little text or clues, they were apparently a family descended from things called Dragons.\n\nFrom the reverent way in which the word 'dragon' is spoken, they are either Gods or Demons. I have about eight days worth of food, and a symbol to find. A long creature with wings in a circle. The symbol of Draconis.\n\nI look away from the city, back at the settlement I left two nights ago. My presence is tolerated. Bodies of the fallen were animated a while ago, and they lumbered toward the settlement. I was on the verge of being thrown out of the commonhouse, when the storm had hit. Like other Actives, I could sense the ebb and flow of Magic.\n\nI never saw my power as a curse, but a burden. I could do harm, like those who came before, or I could use it to help fix things. So when I sensed the Charged beings, as we call them, I knew my burden was getting heavier.\n\nRunning into the storm was considered foolish, but I knew I was safe. The blasts of energy never came close to me because I am Active. Running to the border, I saw the Charged beings approach. The storm eased my headache, and I could channel my energy much easier. Reaching into that pocket, as I call my store of energy, was like waving hello. Nice and easy. Grabbing my energy, I formed it into a spear and threw it at the closest Charged being.\n\nIt struck with great speed and a flash of light. The Charged being stumbled and fell. I repeated this many times over, causing the Charged to collapse. A scream rose from the other side. There were more Charged. And I had no time to run.\n\nClosing my eyes, I imagined standing behind a window which looked at the other entrance. Reaching out, I 'grabbed' the curtains, and 'pulled' them open. Opening my eyes, I could see the other Charged. I stepped 'through' the window, dismissing it with a gesture. They were too close for ranged combat. Pulling out a large amount, I imagined the energy form a simple pole. Solid enough to deal damage, but easy enough for me to use.\n\nI ran at the Charged and swung. The blows boomed on connection, and my energy would fight the energy of the Charged. When my energy won, the body would drop as the energy would dissipate. Twelve more Charged bodies fell to my staff and energy.\n\nTurning to the guards, I was relieved to see they were unhurt. Healing others was not a gift of mine. They just gawked at me. I knew my time was over here. I had taken my bag when I ran to fight, because I knew this would happen. Once they saw I was Active, the hopitality would run dry, and I would be forced out.\n\nAs I turned to leave, a voice called out.\n\n\"Wait.\"\n\nI stopped in shock. Turning around, I saw one of the guards run up to me. He was young, but his eyes were old.\n\n\"You do not have to leave here. We would shelter you.\"\n\n\"But... why?\" I asked. Kindness after revealing myself was something that had NEVER happened before.\n\n\"We live close to the city, and the lupine and felines would wander down and stalk us for meat. We could use your help in fighting them.\"\n\n\"Your elders would never allow it.\" I state, a bit harsher than intended.\n\nHe smiles at me. \"Yes, they will.\"\n\n\"I have business in the city, I was going to be leaving anyway.\" I say, the constant hounding I endured in the past refused to believe this generosity.\n\nTurns out the people of that village were Passives. People who had the energy within them, but they couldn't manifest it like an Active. But they did have 'proof'. The people of the village stopped aging. They could still die, but they never grew older. Nor could they have children. We shared stories, and they told me that the Draconis family were involved in the war. And they were the rulers of the city. The answers I sought could be there, and they gave me some instructions of what to find. They even showed a yellow ring, with the symbol of the family on it.\n\nLooking at the city, I steel my resolve and start my hunt for truth." ]	1
	[WP] You work at "Funnerals" an over the top funeral home that specializes in putting the "fun in your funeral". You've had some odd requests in the past, but this request takes the cake.	[ "My name is John. John Doe. It's a joke name, but I love my job so much I had it legally changed. That's right. John Doe. I work at a Fun-eral home. We turn Funerals into parties. Sometimes we get people who want to go out in style with big Victorian style blowouts, others want to have kinky fetish themes. I even had the guys ex-wife hold a funeral for a guy after murdering him. It never happened, but she wanted a lot of weird stuff done to the body before hand. Have you ever sewn Grucho Glasses to a corpse? I wasn't going to say 'yeah' to that when I was asked it twenty years down the road. I called the cops quick as I could!\n\nBut today I got the strangest call I've ever gotten in my ten years of working here. Yes, worse than the ex wife.\n\n\"Flowers.\" The call was teary. \"I want flowers. Lots of them.\" I was taken aback. Usually people wanted clowns. \"Flowers,\" I asked gently. I had gotten a few confused calls in my time and it's best not to go crazy with these people. They get offended easy. \"Yeah. Morning Glories. And Nightshade.\" That was a weird mix. \"Ma'am, this is a Fun-eural home. We turn Funerals into Parties...\" I didn't have the usual jovial attitude I attach to this with the wine-stricken drunks I usually got.\n\n\"I know... He wanted me to call this home. I'm not sure why. He said to request whatever I wanted. And I want flowers. One's that reflect who he was as a person.\"\n\n\"Who he was as a person? Could you explain?\"\n\n\"Well,\" she started, \"He was a very... restrictive person. And... um... had a way of... poisoning people... It's not important. He said he knew you actually!\"\n\nI was surprised! The only person I really knew who was getting on in years was a secret agent... \"...James...?\"\n\n\"YES! How did you know!?\"\n\n\"James saved my life a few years back! Apparently one of the bodies I was processing had a biological weapon in it or something. I told him about my services and he seemed really interested!\"\n\n\"Oh! Well that's just great! Why don't you make it a blow out then! Secret Agent style!\"\n\n\"I will ma'am!\" After making arrangements to have the body moved to our home. Then I got to planning! First off: The guest list! I invited everyone who ever had a poor encounter with MI-6 and lived. It was a short list... Then I got to the event! I decided to make it something that everyone could enjoy. Laser beams would cut the body to small easy-to-cremate bits. Those ashes would be rubbed into the seat of a 1964 Aston Martin DB5. Just like Goldeneye would have wanted.\n\nIt was pretty great. Also part of why I changed my name..." ]	1
	[WP] The monsters in your closet have declared war on the monsters under your bed. The winner will get to torment you for the rest of your childhood	[ "“How you doing?”\n\nMary rolled her eyes as her husband slid into bed. But she was laughing a little too. “Is he asleep?”\n\nPulling his half of the blanket over himself, Phil moved toward her with a smile. “God I hope so.”\n\n“Daddy’s feeling lonely?”\n\n“Daddy’s feeling lucky.”\n\n“Yes, I can tell,” Mary said with a giggle. She put her arms around him as he cuddled up to her, closing her eyes as he started kissing his way down her neck. “Would you like the deluxe package?”\n\n“I’ll take whatever the house is offering.”\n\n“Spoken like a low roller.”\n\n“You want low?” he said, bringing his face above hers and giving her his crooked grin.\n\n“We have a dress code here,” Mary said, forcing her face to arrange itself into something approaching a serious expression. “Sir,” she added just before her giggles burst out again.\n\n“And you’re entirely overdressed,” he said, running his hands over her shoulders. Taking the straps of the nightgown down her arms in the process. “House rules.” He ducked beneath the covers, kissing his way across the front of her neck, dropping lower. And lower. And lower.\n\nMary sighed happily as he got busy. “Oh my, we have a winner,” she murmured. A moment later, her happiness was banished as her expression twisted into a disappointed frown when a loud series of thumps and thuds came from the hallway.\n\n“Shit.”\n\n“He’ll quit,” Phil said, not stopping what he was doing. Or where.\n\nThe noise outside the room didn’t stop. “Sweetie,” Mary said, reaching down to run her fingers through his hair.\n\n“Alright,” Phil said, emerging from beneath the blanket. He was putting on a good face as he wiped his mouth, but she saw the irritation in the back of his eyes.\n\n“Don’t yell too much,” she said quickly.\n\n“He’s lucky you won’t let me paddle him.”\n\n“Violence doesn’t solve anything.”\n\n“It solves behavior problems,” Phil said, clearly before he realized he’d said it. He held a hand up placatingly as his wife frowned a little at him. Rolling off her, he reached for his robe. “We already had that argument. Don’t … go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”\n\n“I’ll keep the bed warm for you.”\n\nHe flashed his sexy grin again, then headed for the hallway as he belted his robe. As he stepped out of his bedroom, there was another series of loud noises from down the hallway. It wasn’t hard to push his irritation and annoyance to the fore as he walked in the direction of the sound. If he couldn’t get his son’s attention with a few no-nonsense swats to the bottom, he was forced to rely on other means.\n\nWhatever Mary thought about it.\n\nReaching the door, he took a deep breath as he laid his hand on the doorknob. Making sure he had angry dad in place before he twisted and pushed, stepping inside the bedroom in one swift motion. “Bedtime means bed!” he snapped. “Sleeping. Quietly!”\n\n“I’m not sleepy yet,” the boy lying in the bed said. He didn’t sound sleepy, but that wasn’t the point. Phil looked around the room, expecting to see toys out; but the room was immaculate. As usual; Jaiden hadn’t had that particular problem for a little while now. It was only at bedtime that he ever gave them any trouble.\n\n“Then lay there. What on Earth are you doing?”\n\n“Nothing.”\n\n“Didn’t sound like nothing.”\n\n“Sorry daddy.”\n\nPhil scowled, working hard to make it as thunderous as he could manage. “Don’t sorry daddy me. If I have to come in here again tonight, if you don’t settle down, we’re going to start taking privileges. The Nintendo will be first on the chopping block. Understand me?”\n\n“Yes daddy,” his son said calmly. “It won’t happen again.”\n\n“If you can’t sleep, then pretend to sleep. You’ll drift off soon enough.”\n\n“Yes daddy.”\n\nPhil glowered at the boy for several more seconds, then backed out of the room and shut the door. Firmly, letting noise supply what he couldn’t accomplish the way his father had sorted him out when he’d acted up. He’d turned out just fine, but Mary wouldn’t have it.\n\nHe walked away from the door, then stopped and waited for several seconds before creeping slowly, carefully back. Listening the whole way, until he had his ear pressed to the crack where door rested in the frame. The room beyond was quiet. He stood there for nearly half a minute, and finally decided — hoped — the stern yelling had took.\n\nTiptoeing back from the bedroom, he turned and made his way back to his bedroom. And his wife.\n\n* * * * \n\nJaiden waited until his father had left, then dropped out of bed with surprising agility and reached beneath the bed. His arm vanished into the shadows, and he rummaged around for a few seconds before pulling something out with a grunt of effort.\n\nThe wooden frame wasn’t large, but it was heavily stained. A struggling … creature … was lashed to it with kite string. All four arms and three legs stretched out and bound to the wood. Purple fur, matted with blue blood. The tusked face was wearing a terrified expression.\n\n“Did you hear that?” Jaiden said, reaching beneath the bed again.\n\n“Yes,” the monster said quickly. All seven of its eyes followed the small wooden case the boy pulled out into the glow of the nightlight like it was dangerous.\n\n“If I lose anything, I’m going to make you lose things,” Jaiden said, opening the case to reveal an array of silverware and basic tools. Stained multicolored, except where various sharp edges or points gleamed bare metal. “Things that require effort to remove.”\n\n“Please,” the monster begged as a long ice pick was lifted out. “We will do anything. Whatever you want. Just don’t, don’t, no, don’t! Why, oh Valla why?”\n\nThe slender length of the pick was slowly sliding into the monster’s midsection. Its pleading, and screams of agony, were smothered by the boy’s hand as he clapped it into the space between where the tusks protruded from the mouth. The monster’s limbs quivered as he struggled not to flinch or pull enough to make the wooden frame rock against the floor.\n\n“You wanted to win,” Jaiden said as he manipulated the metal and the monster squirmed. “Now, let’s get back to the shadow land. There must be a way in.”\n\n * * * *\n\nI collect all my flash fic [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/DavesWorld/). If you liked this, the others might be interesting too. Enjoy!\n" ]	1
	[WP] You receive a text message that reads "Whatever you do, don't look in them in the eyes. You can look at them, but never make eye contact. -S"	[ "With bleary eyes, you stared again at the number on the black Samsung Galaxy S7. It was so ridiculous. (555) 555-5555. Clearly spoofed or something. Yet the message was creepy. Looking in the corner of your screen, the time read 3:17AM\nThe time stamp on the message was from 3:05AM. \n\nYou rolled back over onto your side. Stupid spammers. Closing your eyes, you began to think about the message. The words had burned themselves onto your eyes and even though your eyes were closed the words flashed across your vision. Yawning, felt for the nightstand and put the phone back on it, but there was a sudden chill on your arm as it slid from out beneath the blanket. \n\nA sense of unease quietly spread from the corner of your brain and like a kid, you slowly raised the blanket to cover your face. The street lights were bothering you, you rationalized the fear away. Photo-sensitivity. Yet, the feeling that that something was watching you kept injecting itself in your thoughts. An irrational fear that something was on the other side of the covers fell over you. Something dark that hid in the shadows, hiding in the dark corners of the rooms. \n\nAs your hot exhalations began to replace the air in the protective bubble of the blanket, the words kept appearing beneath your tightly closed eyelids. \"Don't look them in the eyes.\" \n\nYour breathing slowly sped up, along with your need for fresh air. Yet, the fear was real. It was waiting. Waiting for the covers to be removed so that your eyes were free to see again. \n\nYou sighed. This was stupid. The number was a spammer. Probably some college prankster. Probably one of your friends. Bastards. John, maybe. \nThe joke had ceased to be funny though. \n\nYou mustard up the courage to remove the blanket. Just as you were about to remove it, the blanket gave a slight tug downwards, towards the foot of the bed. \n\nYou gripped the blanket with a death grip, pulling it quickly over your head again. That was not your imagination. Something was on the other side. \n\n\"Holy fuck,\" you exclaimed. The air suddenly seemed a lot colder in the room and you suddenly felt very, very alone. The room was deathly silent, yet the rapid beating of your heart pulsing filled your ears. \n\n\"Oh my God, oh my God.\" you quietly whispered beneath your breath. \n\"Jesus, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven.\" You recited fervently, hoping to get some kind of relief for the panic that was slowly crawling over you. And yet the words sounded hollow to your own ears and you remembered that for the past seven years, you had never set foot in a church, and had, for most purposes forsaken religion altogether. But this was different. \n\nThere was something altogether demonic on the other side of the blanket. You knew it. It knew it. And you could feel it, it wanted to feed. Not on your body, but on your essence, your soul. A vision appeared of a bloated corpse lying on a bed, its' eyes blood red, a face frozen in an endless scream, the hair turned white from shock. The corpse was you, that is what it wanted for you. \n\nThen just like that, the feeling of imminent doom faded. The ghastly imagery faded. You waited, cautiously optimistic, but fearful. Things quieted. Your mind raced. Had you just imagined it all? \n\nTime dragged on for eternity and you lay cowering, like a child, behind the blanket. Truly, this was maddening. All you wanted was for the alarm to go off, alerting you to the glorious beginning of a new day. Maybe the daylight was close. \n\nGrowing bold, you reached out from under the cover to the nightstand. If the phone was within reach, you could pull it under the covers to at least check the time. Your hand felt it and touching it, you heard the sound of phone's camera taking a picture. Funny, you don't remember having the phone's camera app on. The words flashed in front of your eyes again. \"Don't look them in the eyes. you can look at them but never make eye contact.\" \n\nYour hand paused as your brain slowly connected the dots. There were implications there. You knew damned well that you hadn't turned the phone camera on. The camera would take a picture of the room, if it really had gone off. What if.. what if IT had set the phone to camera mode and taken a picture of itself? So you would see ITS eyes? \n\nYou slowly slid your hand back under the blanket without the phone. You sighed, thinking to yourself that this was all getting ridiculous and that this entire ordeal was just your imagination. The tug of the blanket was probably caused by your feet and you just weren't paying attention. The phone's camera had definitely gone off, but that could be explained away, right? It's not like your phone didn't turn on apps randomly all the time. There was that one time in Calc I were that video of Katy Perry's Roar went off on the YouTube app and the entire class laughed at you. Pure coincidence. \n\nSuddenly the doorbell rang. Who was here at? 4:30AM? Loud knocks on the front door. You sat up. Okay, the games were over. The sheet fell off your face. The blood in your veins froze. There was something very clearly in the corner of your room. The silhouette was in the shape of a man. But dark. Extremely dark. \n\nThe knocking and door bell ringing had stopped just as abruptly. You realized the truth too late. It had tricked you. The protection of the blanket was gone. Paralyzed with fear, you shut your eyes. \n\n\"Nope. A big fat fuck you, boss. I am not looking. What the hell do you want from me, anyways?\" You asked It. The images appeared again. You pictured yourself getting up and walking to the front door. Peeking through the peephole, there was a friendly looking man, wearing dark sun glasses. The man's smile got bigger, his teeth finally being revealed, sharp and canine. His hand moved slowly and his grin seemed to grow as the hands grasped the sunglasses, slowly pulling them up, onto his forehead. As the sunglasses moved, you had no choice but to stare into the dead blackness of Its' eyes. there was nothing there, just the darkest shade of black you had ever seen. His eyes grew bigger and bigger, pulling you in. You felt yourself falling into them, looking up you saw the outside world through Its' eyes, the world of light slowly fading as you fell down into the tunnel, the blackness. \n\n\"Welcome to Hell.\" A raspy whisper exclaimed and you felt all hope fading. There was no escaping this darkness. This was eternal darkness. Your family, you friends, were gone. And this is all you would get to experience, just endless darkness. For all eternity. Everything that you had experienced in your life was all that you would ever get to experience and as you reflected on your life's actions, you felt grave sorrow for being so selfish, so hateful to the people you cared about. There would be no forgiveness now. There could be none. Only darkness. \n\nAs these troublesome thoughts overcame you, you began to cry. \n\"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.\" You told all of the people as you saw them fading in and out. Grieving, your sorrow consumed you as you felt the despair of lost opportunities. Out of the darkness, the room slowly reappeared, but you were lost, barely recognizing it was over. As the morning light started to shine through your windows, you felt drained, yet... renewed? You looked at the dark silhouette, it was just your coat resting on the arm of a treadmill. \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] After you die instead of waking up in heaven or hell all you see is the options new game and new game +	[ "Jerry had always wished he was more. Jerry never loved himself, and so Jerry took his life on January 5th, 2027. When life left his body, Jerry's consciousness, still understanding written english and still possessing cognition was given a choice: try life again with a clean slate, or begin life again with the knowledge of his old life, the painful memories but also the wisdom and insight and the drive to live better that comes with knowing how awful life can get if you don't apply yourself. Jerry was ecstatic, he wondered if he could do it better this time with the old Jerry's mind but a new body. He gave it a try, but what he didn't realize was that on this \"reality server\" everyone was new game plus. The bar had been raised, jobs required at least a full lifetime of experience in that field, people all dated accordingly to the new bar that was set. Jerry took his life again on August 8th, 2054." ]	1
	[WP] Seven billion people fell asleep as human beings, and seven billion people woke up as something else entirely.	[ "I was on vacation in Greece when it happened which may explain why I became like this. Nobody precisely knows what happened or what caused it... but the modern world as we knew it was gone forever.\n\nApparently some deep blue mist covered the world within a single hour and spread everywhere. Even areas locked by vacuum seal were contaminated, such as the International Space Station or submarines which traveled through the oceans. The lucky ones were simply no longer human and transformed into fantastical creatures. The unlucky ones were either driven insane or turned into an unintelligent creature by their transformations or had developed mutations which made their bodies unable to sustain life such as missing a lower intestine.\n\n'I finally found Marcel,' a French mermaid said as she swam over me while I was resting. 'He turned into a centaur and not one of the intelligent ones.'\n\n'Shows him right for cheating on 24 women,' her friend said just before she looked down and gasped in horror. 'My god, what is that thing?'\n\n'This thing is trying to rest,' I said to her, my voice erupting for miles on end. 'Now go away. You two are looking mighty tasty...'\n\nThe two swam away in a haste as I yawned, pushing enough water through my gills to change the direction of ocean currents if I so wished. In fact, I have.\n\nIt was waking up like this which reminded me of when I became a hydra. I was sailing on a boat when I saw scales forming on my skin and snakes began to erupt beside my face. I had quickly fallen off the boat and sank to the bottom of the sea. When I awoke I found myself greeted by two extra heads on serpentine bodies, a giant tail and an immense body which created tsunamis where I swam and which sank and shattered the rocks where I stood when I was on land.\n\nAnd to be honest, I didn't want to eat those mermaids anyway. I was no longer required to feed anymore and even if I could did require it, why would I expend valuable energy to eat such small creatures?\n\nAlthough I did enjoy eating as well as hunting. That sensation of outmaneuvering an opponent in a game of life and death and being able to turn said opponent into your dinner... Although I guess I enjoyed it more since none could reasonably claim their better at me in anything other than speed and even that was a stretch seeing as I didn't \"Swim\" as much as \"shove my feet deep into the earth and push myself forward at great speed\".\n\nIt was a rule, however, that predators couldn't hunt any former humans if they still retained. Being caught doing so meant you were fair game for others to hunt like that full of a cyclops who cut off one of my heads. He probably wasn't aware that Hydra heads grew back twice as many as were cut off. He was also probably unaware of how a hydra's mere breath was poisonous to other creatures or how our blood was so virulent the mere scent could kill others. He was already dead after taking a bite of my decapitated head so consuming him was rather simplistic.\n\nI had 13 heads now which made my primary hunt much easier. The first time I hunted as a hydra... As today my prey is a pod of blue whales. It was only seeing one of these that my size was truly apparent. I blinked in surprise when I recognized the species swimming above me. It was almost by instinct that I extended my neck out and upward, waiting until the last second to open my maw wide and open to snap at it and pull it down to feed on it... but I was more surprised when I felt the thing swimming about in my mouth before I swallowed it.\n\nThe same was true now. I snapped up whale after whale. I ate an entire pod everyday and strangely the population of the species still kept climbing as far as I was aware of. I'll have to increase my intake soon...\n\nBut alas, I had other business to attend to. I reached my destination after feeding, the islands of Japan. I climbed out of the water, my thick torso thrice the height of the Tokyo Tower and thrice over in width, my 13 heads scanning over the remains of Tokyo... and once that Tanuki was spotted all of them gazed down at him.\n\n'Shido,' I said in a voice barely containing my rage. 'We had a deal.'\n\n'Deepest apologies, Orochi-sama-' he screamed his lungs out.\n\n'Stop calling me that!' I interrupted him. 'It's Poseidon. And what have I told you about the screaming? I can hear you perfectly well even when you're speaking normally.'\n\n'Y-yes, Poseidon,' he grovelled.\n\n'Better,' I said to him. 'But like I said, we had a deal. I'd spare this land from my wrath if you provided me with sake every 10 years. 50 offerings and not a single mistake until now. I see no tankards of sake left for me in the harbor.'\n\n'The train line we use for your offering is experiencing disrepair,' Shido explained. 'A result of a mindless oni. The trains are on their way as we speak.'\n\n'And from what I remember of the old world, Japan was famous for the efficiency of their trains,' I said in a rather sad voice. 'How rarely were they ever late. Should even one of the hundreds of trains fall short of schedule by seconds, it resulted in severe and sincere apologies from the train employees as those who were dependent on the trains have rather strict schedules. As do I.'\n\n'...Understood, sir,' Shido said. 'You have our upmost apologies.'\n\n'Oh, I don't know,' I mused to let him squirm. 'Would you prefer it if I take reparations in the form of my original offer to your people? Or should I just slaughter the populous of this country now?'\n\n'Please, Lord Poseidon-'\n\n'Oh no,' I casually dismiss him. 'I've made up my mind. Bring me 10,000 virgins by sundown. Ensure your own daughters are present.'\n\n'No!' Shido screamed. 'Please!'\n\nI was then interrupted by the sound of screeching right in front of me. 'Oh, you were being honest!' I said cheerfully. 'Your tax has finally arrived at the port.'\n\nThe 130 tanks rested on each carriage of the trains which brought them into the docks. I inspected them each to ensure they were filled completely before they were torn open and emptied into each of my heads. Of course, there was also the occasional damage to the serving implements with one engine being flattened under my finger when I grabbed onto land. \n\nAll except for what I considered my primary head which loomed towards Shido, as tall as and wider than the tower he was currently standing on. My snout was within Shido's arm's reach and I tried not to breathe else I suck him into my snout.\n\n'You are so lucky I can wait a few moments,' I growled at him, so quiet compared to my normal form of speech that I was surprised I could pull it off. 'The next time I come here, if the offering is late by 10 seconds, if one tankard isn't filled to the brim... Well, I'll really take your breathe away.'\n\nThe last head ascended away from him before joining my others in drinking the alcoholic offering. I dropped the shredded train carriages onto the ground in a heap before sinking into the depths of the ocean. Within the hour the centaurs of the remains of the US would present their offering. And since I was now in a sour mood they had best present to me my 100,000 bison precisely!", "The body is a temple. We have all heard it. The products are designed for us. A keyboard designed for 10 fingers, each typing somewhat independently. Or a car, designed for our hands and feet. Even the toilet, designed for us average five-foot something humans to squat our legs and sit our ass down to relieve ourselves. It makes sense, of course, to design products around our bodies. It was common among most of us. And what else do we have? \n\nI had never thought much about the shape of my body. The symmetry. The autonomy of my organs, of breathing, of muscle memory, of hand-eye coordination. On the contrary, I went through life caring about more abstract things. I cared of psychological methods. How to sell a product. That we created. For our bodies. \n\nWhen, I woke up that Monday morning and fumbled to turn off my alarm, I was incredibly overwhelmed. I thought I was paralyzed or maybe sleep paralysis. I'd soon discover that my mind hadn't changed. It was just my body. I was able to sit up and looked toward the wardrobe at the mirror above all my drawers. Filled with clothing that would soon mean nothing. \n\nWas I dreaming?\n\nTBC", "Mister Malevolent was surprised by how easily his plan came to fruition. Part of that was by design: each step was a seemingly insignificant heist, designed not to attract attention from any of the major super heroes. He didn’t have a chance against any of them, and he knew it. He wasn’t built for hand to hand combat, nor did he have any true defensive capabilities to speak of. All it’d take was one punch from the right do-gooder to end his scheming.\n\nHowever, Wonder Warrior and his allies had no interest in museums with ancient relics. Those relics held no power, so the police were left to guard the museum. Mister Malevolent had no trouble with those guys, however. He subdued them with minor illusions easily enough, and walked away with his treasures without so much as breaking a sweat.\n\nAfter the last heist, Mister Malevolent carefully checked his inventory for the last time. He would need every item in order to make this work, and he had to make sure he wouldn’t trip at the finish line. He found the dreamcatcher, the light bauble, the chakra stone, and the energy leeches all in their place. On their own, each was no more than a trinket, a very minor player in a world of super powers and magic. Put together, though … Mister Malevolent smiled to himself.\n\nMister Malevolent set up the light bauble in the center of the room, where it would shine the maximum amount of light. It was a magical artifact that did nothing more than shine sunlight in every direction. It was like a magical flashlight that never ran out of power. Wonder Warrior hadn’t bothered when Mister Malevolent had stolen it. Where was the danger?\n\nMister Malevolent had to admit, the light bauble on its own held no danger. It did, however, make for an excellent power source. Combined with the solar panels that he had acquired, Mister Malevolent now had a pretty sizable energy supply.\n\nThe leeches happily gorged themselves on the electricity from the solar panels, sucking off as much of the energy as they could. This had been one of the more clever aspects of Mister Malevolent’s plan. Any full-blown electrical system would have attracted attention, so he had come up with a way to generate power without conventional means. It was odd, but effective.\n\nNext up, he moved the chakra stone over the container holding the leeches. The chakra stone was a mystical object, designed to collect spiritual energy and provide balance. It was something of a medicinal tool, with no possible offensive use. However, energy was energy, and the leeches were giving off a steady supply of it. Even though the chakra stone wasn’t particularly efficient, it nevertheless converted voltage into pure, unadulterated mystical energy.\n\nFor the final piece of the puzzle, Mister Malevolent affixed the dreamcatcher to his chest. He’d had to get creative to generate pure mystical energy, but the dreamcatcher was fully planted in the world of mysticism. There was no conversion necessary for it to absorb the mystic energy from the chakra stone. If anything, the chakra stone’s penchant for balance made it the perfect conduit. It discharged the mystic energy as fast as it could, and the dreamcatcher happily received it.\n\nDrawing a deep breath, Mister Malevolent tapped the overflowing energies from the dreamcatcher. With the dreamcatcher providing a drastic power boost, his illusions weren’t quite so minor any more. Seven billion people went to sleep, never to truly wake up. Their bodies rose from sleep, but they were forever trapped in a dream state.\n\nThe world belonged to Mister Malevolent, and there was nothing Wonder Warrior or anyone else could do about it.", "'Oh god! Why am I wet?'\n\nSomething was bandaged over my eyes, and I was underwater. What a way to wake up.\n\n\"Sorry about the tank, we had to make sure you wouldn't combust and destroy everything\" a voice said, barely audible over the gurgling of my tank.\n\nI tried to open my mouth to say something, but only water went in. Slowly, the water level lowered. I ripped the bandage over my eyes off, and opened my eyes to a dark room.\n\nEveryone kept their distance, like they would as if a tiger was in their living room. The tank lowered so I could step out.\n\n\"Could I get some clothes please?\" my voice was shaky, more from nervousness than the cold. A lady quickly gave me a robe and retreated into viewing room.\n\n\"Now for the obvious question.\" \n\n\"What the hell?!\" \n\nMy hair seemed dry already. A couple of seconds passed before the voice I heard in the tank spoke again.\n\n\"Something has changed in the general population, most cases were mild, but some people in your family had extreme reactions.\"\n\n\"What kind of change are you talking about, and is my family alright?\" My voice was more stable now.\n\n\"With your grandfather, all we had were eyewitness accounts, and they were too far away to get an accurate look. It seemed like he was suddenly surrounded by a vortex of fire. People said that while he was yelling, his voice sounded young, not like a man in his 70's. Unfortunately, we couldn't find any remains of him or anyone nearby.\"\n\n\"And you were afraid that would happen to me? Like it's genetic?\"\n\n\"Yes. We have found similar physiological traits in you that we have found in other people capable of combustion, but yours were much more pronounced.\" \n\n\"However, combustion isn't the only trait observed. There are reports of people sneezing and a blast of air breaking windows, and some people have found that they can telekenetically control small pebbles and dust.\"\n\nA solid minute passed before the burning question finally made its way out. \"What happened to the rest of my family?\"\n\n\"Your mother and brother had peculiar but relatively mild reactions. Your father had demonstrated similar reactions to your grandfather, but not as pronounced, but instead of just fire, he seems to be manipulating large rocks and sand as well.\"\n\n\"We can't get close to try to help him. Fortunately, no one was around when his power started. However, it is growing and there is nothing we can do right now. We were examining you to see if there is any way to counteract this phenomenon, but we have found nothing.\" \n\nThe tank rose back up, but this time, the water seemed to boil as it filled up. \n\nI reached out to touch the tank, but my hand found only air. I looked to the viewing room in a panic, but it was empty. A mixture or panic and anger grew, but nothing was on fire. \n\nThe room only melted.\n\nI walked to what seemed like an out, leaving a me-sized hall way in my wake. Despite the rain, I was untouched. I slowly started sinking into the parking lot.\n\n'They said that dad could control earth and that it could be genetic. If heat is this powerful, what would else could this power do?\n\nI closed my eyes, and imagined controlling pebbles, but the rain was still not falling on me. I sighed and looked up to see a perfect dome of water over me. I looked down, and saw the parking lot crumbling and being blown away.\n\nI focused again, and tried expanding the dome. The clouds had a small hole right above me, like an eye of a hurricane. And it grew. Slowly at first, but increasingly faster. I heard storms off in the distance where I pushed the clouds, then nothing.\n\n No wind, no birds or insects. \n\nAll sound had ceased, both outside and in my head. My anger and panic had calmed down.\n\n'All this power, but I can't make clothes or keep them from incinerating. Comic books never covered that.' I looked back at the facility, and it was completely ruined. Nothing survived, everything was completely melted. \n\nI stepped out of my hole that I made in the parking lot, and headed off.\n\nMy walk to find a town was a silent one, like a naked, planet sized meteor travelling through space.", "Well. For whatever reason, I'm really toasty but not sweating in bed. That's a nice change.\n\nI feel a weird pain underneath my body. That's not normal. \n\nI open my eyes. Why does everything seem so clear? There is no way that I have 20/10 vision. I'm shortsighted. Something is wrong. \n\nI pick up my phone. Wait - my hand wasn't covered in fur yesterday. Something is seriously wrong. Let's check my reflection...\n\nCRASH.\n\nWait, why am I on the fl... I fainted, didn't I. \n\nI pick up my phone again. See my reflection. So THAT'S why I fainted. Apparently I'm an anthropomorphic grey, white and light blue folf now. \n\nAlso, I have a tail. An actual tail. Let that sink in. Done? Good. Guess that explains the pain in bed, I was laying on it. \n\nI check Twitter. There's a major panic about people transforming into human-animal combos. So it happened to everyone else. \n\nGet dressed. Make a cuppa and have breakfast. Put shoes on, get car keys, leave house. Into the car. \n\nI use the car radio's Bluetooth option and call my friend. \n\nApparently he needs to see me now. \n\nI put my foot down hard. \n\nSo now the world is a haven for furries.\n\nA lot can change overnight, eh? ", "I always hated that bed.\n\nIt was a frame that strained against its own weight, whose boxspring would shift at the slightest provocation. This would invariably cause one of the mattress corners by my head to slip through that malfitting frame, pitching me into the floor.\n\nUsually at around 3:34 AM or so. Good times.\n\nSo, it was with great momentary astonishment that, when I awoke suddenly en-floored, that the bed itself was still in one cantankerous pile with my head still resting on my pillow -- a groggy cherry crowning a sorbet of bad design and faux oak.\n\nNeedless to say, I went back to sleep... until the footboard collapsed under my newfound weight. The absolute worst way to find out you have a tail is to get splinters in it.\n\nScrew it. I'm getting a futon." ]	6
	[WP] You've just died. Except, instead of an afterlife, you wake up to some very concerned alien friends. Your entire human life was just a trip on a new hallucigenic drug.	[ "\"Glorbit...!\"\n\nThe familiar voice echoed in a haze. I sat on my behind, unaware of my surroundings, my vision blurred. Several figures stood around me, seemingly cloaked in my daze.\n\n\"Glorbit!\" came the voice again. Slowly getting clearer, feeling less distant. I noticed I was clutching a device which emitted a peculiar smoke and an even more peculiar smell.\n\nI wipe at my eyes with a tentacle, trying to gain any sense of bearings. My head was pounding, what just happened?\n\n\"GLORBIT!\" yelled my girlfriend, Zeedah, \"Can you hear me?!\" She stood looking down on me, half looking concerned for my well-being, half annoyed like I had been ignoring her deliberately.\n\n\"Yikes, Zee,\" I say through squinted eyes, dropping the device beside me so I could gently massage my temples, \"keep it down, would ya?\"\n\n\"Glorby!\" came a deep, husky voice from behind who I realised was my friend, Blurder. A heavy Bullbon with as many eyeballs as thick arms. \"How was it?!\"\n\n\"Yeah, tell us!\" came a third voice in a shrill. Phydol the Danderblott sat on his six legs looking at Glorbit expectantly. His high pitched squeal being absolutely not appreciated right now, thought Glorbit.\n\nAfter a moment, Glorbit was feeling back to normal. He leaned back and propped himself up with two tentacles, looking at each of his companions with a triumphant grin. \"Guys.. this is it. This is the stuff!\"\n\nHis friends all sat down in front of him, eyes wide with wonder wondering what Glorbit had just been through. \"Was it as trippy as they say?\" said Zeedah. \"Is this hoo-man stuff legit??\"\n\nGlorbit gave a chuckle. \"You're damn right, baby!\" he said enthusiastically. \"This stuffs got it all! You ain't ever felt anger or sadness 'til you've had a hoo-man experience!\"\n\nThe friends sat, mouth agape. \"Me next!\" said Blurder suddenly, reaching for the device Glorbit had dropped. \"Given how much this cost, it better be worth it!\"\n\nBlurder took a sharp inhale. They all watched as suddenly all ten of his eyes rolled into the back of his head. In seconds, he slowly collapsed onto the ground.\n\n\"Blast off!\" said Glorbit, looking at Blurder happily. \"He's gonna go borzlenorbs when he get's back!\"\n\nPhydol reached for the instrument as well, gripping it tight with four hands. He took a sharp inhale, and then settled onto the ground in a clump beside Blurder.\n\nFeeling like they were now alone, Zeedah slid closer to Glorbit, resting her head on his chest and stroking him lightly with a tentacle. \"So...\" she cooed, \"was it what you were expecting?\"\n\nGlorbit closed all three of his eyes to reminisce on his trip. He smiled a knowing smile like he had come out a better squidot for it. \"No,\" he said with a pause, \"it was even better...\"\n\n\"What did you do?\"\n\n\"More things than I can remember. I learnt numbers, swam in pools, married a hoo-woman called Stacey, I chased butterflies, cooked meals, ran marathons, sang at Karaoke, played a guitar, raised a dog, and by Brorbledon, Zeedah, I danced!\" \n\nThere was a long silence. Glorbit knew Zeedah wouldn't know half these hoo-man things. She would, though.. soon enough.\n\nZeedah turned her head to face Glorbit, her three eye's staring coldly at his.\n\n\"... who's Stacey?!\"\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
Based on this image: https://www.reddit.com/r/funny/comments/6ajdmd/1st_posted_here_on_reddit_used_it_for_cover_of_my/?st=J2L2AHI7&sh=3edcad67	[WP] Due to your inability to read cursive handwriting, you summoned a lemon instead of a demon.	[ "\"Huh.\"\n\nYou stared at the yellow citrus fruit sitting in the middle of the floor, cocking your head to one side as you wait for it to do something. In your studies of the spiritual and arcane, you came across many references to fruit and agriculture, from the forbidden fruit from Genesis to the produce put forth as offerings to various Hindu deities. You remembered a passing reference to lemon trees being among the many florae present in the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, and how the yellow fruits were considered part of Hera's dowry and jealously guarded by Arethusa.\n\nBut for a demonic entity to manifest in that form? That puzzled you. You had prepared for everything from physical forms with horns and hooves to immaterial sprites who might take residence within your soul, claiming your body as a vessel by which to interact with the mortal world. But a piece of fruit? This might require some experimentation.\n\nUsing your trusty mortar and pestle, long a mainstay of your arcane alchemy arsenal, you mashed the peeled lemon fruit into a groggy mixture, then strained out the pulp and seeds with some leftover cheesecloth, leaving you with the juice. Having noticed no abnormalities in this process, you proceeded to take a small sip of the juice, wincing at it's sour taste, then deciding to dilute the mixture with water and adding granulated cane sugar. The result, though definitely refreshing, had no supernatural effect.\n\nDespite what might have been construed a failure, you surmised that you had still made a breakthrough; you had successfully summoned matter into this world in direct violation of its physical laws. Redoubling your efforts, you performed the ritual many times over, becoming so proficient with the process that, before long, your laboratory was filled with fist-sized yellow fruits. You began muttering the ancient language in your sleep, compounding the problem as lemons began to flood your bedchamber. After being woken from your slumber by the pressure of materializing fruits pushing you into the ceiling, you realized that, if you continued down this path, you would surely end in failure. It was time to change direction.\n\nThat morning, you set off to the bank, where, after sufficiently demonstrating your ability to a baffled and frightened loan officer, you had secured the startup capital required to set up your own business. By doing away with the overhead costs of standard agriculture, you were quickly able to undercut the rest of the lemon industry while making hefty profits and spurning a golden age of research and development of that golden fruit. With the previously impossible lemon yields you could yield simply by speaking, lemon oil became the infinitely renewable source of energy that ended our dependence on fossil fuels. The pulp and juice, besides their regular uses, soon became the primary ingredient of compost fertilization, revolutionizing modern agriculture. Instead of creating more ammonia, cleaning supply companies simply resorted to lemon-based solutions, thus cutting down on harmful industrial byproducts. With every new advance in lemon technology, you became more and more wealthy, influential, and beloved.\n\nYears later, you were invited to be the guest of honor at a global summit of innovators, philanthropists, and world leaders. As you walked out on the stage and took your seat next to the moderator, a crowd of adoring fans applauded, their applause dying down as the moderator gestured for them to silence. Then, he turned to you, thanked you for your service to mankind, and began his interview with a simple question:\n\n\"What is the secret to your success?\"\n\nTo which, you smiled, no longer that sad, brooding warlock wannabe who once wanted to summon the legions of hell upon the earth, and replied:\n\n\"It's really simple. When life gives you lemons, make Lemonade.\"\n", "As I finished off my ritual circle, the SWAT team banged on my door. Their was only one letter left to go in the summoning. What I wanted was a demon, any kind of demon. A demon of sexual nature that could subdue those that wished to stop me. A demon of wrath that would fight for me, and protect me in my darker hours. Even a demon of gluttony would do, something that could eat my foes and on the side, perhaps, make meals for us to dine on. The SWAT team outside had other plans. \n\nFor weeks the city police had sent me letters to cease and desist. To stop my incantations, my communications with the spirits below. Now, as I approached the first big step in my conquest of my mortal plane, they wished to forcible prevent me. As my bloodied finger twirled the last letter in my summoning, I closed my eyes. \n\n\"Greetings, Master.\" Screeched a high-pitched voice. \n\n\"Who said that?\" I had asked. \"Are you some kind of invisible Wraith?\"\n\n\"No.\" The voice called out again. \"It is I, Lemon.\"\n\n\"Lemon?\" I asked as my eyes frantically searched the room. I felt a bump on my knee and as I looked down, I saw a real, talking lemon. \n\n\"How may I be of service?\" The lemon spoke. \n\n\"No.\" I panicked. \"No, no, no, no, no. I spelt 'Demon'!\"\n\nAs I trembled, a door buster cracked a hole through the front door of my apartment.\n\n\"Well, you know what they say,\" The lemon said as it bounced into my hand. \"When life gives you lemons..\"\n\n\"You're right.\" I gasped. I looked at the ritual circle below me. \"I need more lemons.\"\n\nI bashed my hand repeatedly into the ritual circle, summoning lemon after lemon after lemon. All of them spoke, and bounced, and called me Master upon arrival. As my door splintered to pieces, and the swat team thundered forward, my army of lemons was prepared. \n______________\nThanks for reading! Follow r/WritingWithLace for new stories every day! " ]	2
	[WP]You look across the table to the hand cuffed person in the interrogation room, "In a society where people are both immortal and invulnerable, becoming the first serial killer in over two thousand years is no small feat."	[ "\"Where are they?\" I demand as I slam my first on the table. \n\n\"You know that myth about the Hoover Dam?\" He asked with a sly smile.\n\n\"What myth?\"\n\n\"That workers that fell in while the concrete was being poured were unable to be recovered, and so left there?\"\n\n\"You entombed them? Where?\"\n\n\"Wherever I found foundation being laid, you expect me to remember such insignificant details? Some are in it, some are under, and you'll never find any of them.\"\n\n\"We'll see about that.\" I said as I stormed out of the room. \n\nTwo days later I was at a loss, he was smart, his movements were confined to the parts of a city undergoing massive construction, urban renewal, or maintenance until he moved to his next hunting ground... What could I do? How could I find them? My head slumped on the table as I started to pass out from lack of sleep. In the distance imagined I could hear...\n\ntap tap\n\ntap tap tap" ]	1
	[WP] It's finally here! You've waited years for this! However, you don't understand why it was delivered by an ice cream truck.	[ " Arnold's obsession with video games had driven away girlfriends, been the cause of him losing his job (multiple times), and generally had caused him to be looked upon by society as a loser, but all he knew, was that whenever he played, he truly felt good. His favorite video game in the entire world was Half-Life Two, he had practically all the merchandise, and cosplayed as Gordon Freeman every chance he could get.\n It was Arnold's first day at his new job as a janitor at the High School in his small town of Winston, Arizona. As he pulled into the parking lot, later in the night around 11 o'clock he heard the faint tune of an ice cream truck driving towards him. He thought it strange to hear an ice cream truck so late at night, but he payed no mind.\n Before Arnold could unlock the front door, the truck pulled up next to him. Gabe Newell stuck half his body out the window and handed over a copy of Half-Life 3.\n \"There's more where that came from.\", he yelled toward Arnold as the truck sped off." ]	1
	[WP] You go to bed like any other night, asleep like a log in minutes. But you then wake up in a car that isn't yours, in clothes that aren't yours, and holding a bag of money, that's not yours. A police then flash his lights to pull you over.	[ " I'm not crazy! I don't think I am... I shouldn't be in here taking drugs that make me feel like I'm a backseat driver to my... this body! How the hell did this even happen, why would she do this and if it was random how did this choose me? The public thinks I'm some killer but I'm not!\n\n It started a few months ago, I was a normal guy and just got off of work. I was gonna hang out with friends on the weekend but I guess that wasn't gonna happen... I worked as a janitor at night and usually stayed up enough to watch tv after work but but I passed out on the couch right when I got home.\n\n When I woke up I was in a car... definitely not mine since it had black leather and it was a sports car. I looked around seeing cars drive by and looked down at myself. I screamed when I saw my body was skinny and I had no hair anywhere, I was a hairy 6'4 guy and now I was fitting in a small sports car with no hair anywhere other than some long hair I could see coming from my head.\n\n I was now wearing a short black strapless dress with red stains on the chest and hips of the dress. I looked at my hands and they had black nail polish with some faint dried red stains on them and a paper bag with a lot of hundred dollar bills in it were sitting in the seat next to me. I looked in the rear view mirror and the girl in the reflection was beautiful with makeup on and she had a healing black eye. \n\n I said \"what the fuck\" and got weirded out by her voice coming out, I saw a paper by the bag of money when I was looking around and looked at it. It had symbols and some language I didn't know on it, I dropped the paper to my feet when I heard sirens and a few cop cars pull up. The cop pulled up and looked inside and I tried to look normal but they noticed the red stains and saw the money and asked me to get out of the car.\n\n I did what they said and stepped out of the fancy sports car and fell because of the stilettos that were on my feet then they helped me up and put me in handcuffs. I was freaked out and asked them what I did and they said \"we found your husband and what you did to him\" which I had no idea what they were talking about.\n\n I spent the next few months going through a trail and going to jail until sentencing, the first time I was bleeding for a week... was in a jail cell and it just added to the shitty situation. When the trail came I told the truth because it was the truth and they'd probably just put me in a psychiatric place... which they did. \n\n It's been two weeks here and I'm thinking the doctor is actually starting to believe me... he looked into her past and the stuff I was saying about my old life and it all checked out, seeing the paper from the car with the symbols helped my case. He says I'd at least have to pretend to be her eventually... I don't want to but it's probably the only option... I'm rich but I don't know if I get any money, also people hate me. \n\n I'm only a few years older since I'm 25 now and this body has perfect health so there's that... I need to find my old body if I get out of here, I don't know what I'd do though..." ]	1
Could be Alien bandits but prefably with an official community.	[WP]Caffeine is actually considered as lethal / dangerous as designer drugs in the Galactic community. Write about Humans first contact with aliens.	[ "Humans quickly earned a reputation as terrifying and fearless badasses throughout the galactic federation of planets. How did this happen? When the first negotiations for membership began, humans were observed consuming the toxin caffeine in gigantic quantities in a casual manner. Most terrifying of all, they enjoyed it and even seemed upset and lethargic before it's use: their powerful bodies had just enough of a panic reaction to the poison to give them a boost of energy and they quickly relied on it for everyday use. Most sentient life in the federation breathes oxygen through their skin and can be said to be similar in construction to our insects on earth: to them, caffeine was a deadly toxin and seeing humans consume it for fun was blood-chilling despite them already being cold-blooded. Upon it's induction to the federation, Earth was quickly relied upon as a large source for soldiers of the federation despite human's lack of an exoskeleton. Humans quickly climbed the ranks of the federation military without much effort thanks to their preceding reputation." ]	1
During your story make the narrator sarcastic, belittling, or even aggressive to the protagonist.	[WP] Make the narrator kind of a dick to the protagonist	[ "Here today I explain an average day surrounding our hero, Jared. The only relevant information here is his first name, as there's nothing else interesting about him. Right now he's lying on his living room couch, as he spends most weekends, questioning (about time he figured out how to ask them) what slime he will stuff his mouth full of. It's called \"Lunch,\" somehow. If you're wondering why I started that day at lunch, it's because Jared lazes around in bed until 11:30 before he decides to get up. Oh, boy, He thinks. I'll slip on down to Slammin' Mammin's and get me a number 7 combo! (As if he really needs another one of those.)\n\nOff Jared went, turning into the Slammin' Mammin's drive thru with such grace that he FORGOT TO USE HIS BLINKER AGAIN! YOU'RE GOING TO KILL SOMEONE! \"Welcome to Slammin' Mammin's whaddaya like?\" asked the poor employee, forced to deal with this imbecile. \"Well,\" Jared started, \"Gimme a number 7 combo\" (Seriously, Jared, that's just a heart attack on a plate!) \"and a sweet tea. I like tea.\" Of course you do, Jared. \n\nJared returned to his abode and ate his meal. I'll admit that I was impressed, he didn't get any on the floor this time! I'd give him a big boy's award if I existed! Afterwards, our hero sat back on his couch and entertained himself with soap operas for five hours straight. And, yes, they were Carl's children all along.\n\nI resume the narration as Jared comes to the realization that it's 6:45 P.M. and he still hasn't eaten dinner. Surprise, he ordered a pizza. Just a cheese pizza, he wasn't interesting enough to spice it up with sausage or pepperoni's. Even the delivery boy couldn't stand him, exclaiming cries of anguish such as \"Enjoy!\" (Well, I mean, you had to be there, I assure you he said so with a rather tired tone in his voice.)\n\nJared dined. Jared went to bed without saying a word. That's it. There's nothing else for you. I couldn't even make anything else up if I tried! I've been doing this for five years! Send help! \n\nActually, Jared did dust off his PhD, but I'm sure they just hand those out." ]	1
	[WP] "Where's the father?" "He died during childbirth"	[ "“Oh” it didn’t hit me at first, but when the sudden realisation came, it was too late. She looked at the child playing at her feet, without another word.\n\n“I, I didn’t” I hated myself for mumbling, but I wished that I kicked myself in the teeth when I started stuttering “I mean, I’m sorry, it must have been, I-”\n\nOh god. Why did I bring this up? Yes, she does look out of place in this park full of happy dads with their children. And so what? Women bring their kids to parks sometimes, when they aren’t busy with their work keeping the whole family fed, I mean my mom used to do that on special days or when dad was too busy cooking and doing all the chores and cleaning up after us. Yes, it’s Monday afternoon, and yes, she’s been here for a while now and it doesn’t look like she’s in a hurry. But what was wrong with me the moment I decided that it’s a great idea to bring this up to a woman I just met? Why did I decide to talk to her? She could have a husband for all I know –I mean, she did. And what if my colleagues or my boss, or even worse, my wife, saw me striking up a conversation with a woman who’s apparently married? They’d think I was trying to get up on her- They’d think I was an absolute whore. I’d lose my job, well, that doesn’t matter, men aren’t supposed to work anyway, but frankly, the last thing on earth I want to deal with is an angry wife.\n\nFor some reason, I make mistakes like that all the time. There was this time at a bar when a woman who reeked of whiskey asked if I was down for a quick one, I retorted. I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do, my friends weren’t there with me and I was all alone at a bar with probably a dozen drunk women. I don’t remember exactly what I said, I quickly backed away and she was too drunk to grab me but across the bar she yelled at me and called me a whore and a slut, said that I must’ve slept with whoever I could get my hands on. When she yelled at that volume everyone in the room looked at us and they saw me edging away. Some of the women agreed with a whistle, some of them laughed hoarsely and shouted something, then everyone including the bartender laughed. \n\n“Well doll face, your jeans are a little too short.” The bartender wiped the glass clean and raised it to the women who’re still laughing. “I'm not trying to shut the door on a customer, but you might wanna get outta here if you know what's good for you.”\n\n“I didn’t do anything. She-”\n\n“You think so?” She raised an eyebrow at me “Let’s just say, if I were your girlfriend, I’d never let you out at night with those jeans on. I mean, when you sit down, every one of us could see your ankles. Dude, you brought this on yourself.”\n\nI brought this on myself.\n\nAnd that’s exactly what I was thinking then. For a moment she looked up from her child and at me I thought that she was going to punch me right there in front of her daughter. It happens sometimes when a mother wants to show her daughter how real women deal with things so she could learn to be rough with men like that and ‘put them in their places’ when she needs to, and I wouldn’t be able to dodge a punch then. \n\n“It’s fine.” She looked at me without visible vileness in her eyes, but I flinched back anyway. “He looked almost like you when he was pregnant with her. How old is yours? Five months? Six months?”\n\n“Five.” I told her. “Sometimes I think I could already feel him kicking.”\n\n“Well, he said the same thing.”\n" ]	1
	[WP] Technology allows humans to backup their minds and then transfer them to a clone body in cases of death. Laws prohibit multiples of any one person at a time. However, for you, they've made an exception.	[ "That's right. Its us! The person that broke the law! I backed us up a few dozen times in clones. Wanna know why? The law says \"multiples of any one person\". Well guess what? We're two people in here! Mental illness is a hell of a sobering realization isn't it? Maybe with a dozen of us running amok we'll bring awareness to the immorality of this!", "\"Thank you my fellow senators, I hope after our discussion today you fully understand the threat the Kransy Empire posses to our republic. Their use of multiple same identity clones is an abomination and has lead to nothing but chaos. Everyone is one. We must put the strength of our beliefs to the test, and backup our righteous words with awesome power. I hope each of you will vote with me tomorrow to authorize military action against this abomination.\" \n\nHis closing remarks were greeted with thunderous applause by the chamber. Stepping down from the speaker's podium he was greeted by several of his colleagues. \n\n\"Excellent speech Castor, the secular party would be fools to vote against us tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Do we really have the votes Trinton?\" \n\n\"I'm going to be honest,\" he said lower his voice to a point where Castor had to lean in close enough to feel his breath on his cheek, \"it's going to be close. There are several in our own party that think that we don't have the strength to go against the Kransy Empire. Others have concerns about the moral issues around attacking unprovoked.\"\n\n\"They're weak, and unfit to lead.\"\n\n\"You know I'm with you.\" The man glanced at his wrist watch. \"It's getting late. Back yourself up, get some sleep, we have a long day tomorrow. I'll be in early to work on our recalcitrant colleagues.\"\n\n\"You're a good man Trinton, thank you for all you've done over the years,\" Castor said as he embraced him awkwardly. \n\n\"Of course. We will see this through.\"\n\nAfter speaking with several other colleagues Castor headed home where his wife was up waiting for him. \n\n\"I watched it all.\"\n\nI knew you would,\" he said with a smile. \n\n\"I love you for your bravery, and it's the reason I fear for your safety.\"\n\n\"You have nothing to worry about my dear, just like you and every other ranking official, I have my backup clone in our safe room. They can't touch us.\"\n\nShe embraced him tightly. \"I know, I just don't know if I could handle seeing you die, even if there's another 'you' to replace you.\"\n\n\"Let's not worry about it tonight,\" he said giving her s kiss. \"Let's head to bed and back ourselves up.\"\n\nIn the bed room Castor laid on his side and guided his data jack into the memory port installed at the base of his skull. \"I love you,\" he said one last time before drifting off to sleep. \n\nAcross town a figure stirred in the back of an unmarked van. \"Agent Pollux is active.\"\n\n\"You know what your mission is.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" was all he said before opening the door to the van and stepping out into the cold night air. \n\nAny weariness he had felt evaporated as the icy air filled his lungs. Moving silently and with a speed that did not reflect his fifty two years of age, he made his way through backyards until he arrived at his target. \n\nThe home stood at the end of a cul-de-sac, gated and guarded from intruders. As he approached the gates the lights illuminated his face showing that he was no intruder. \n\n\"Good evening sir,\" one of the guards said saluting as the other followed suit. \"I didn't realize you were off grounds.\"\n\n\"No worries,\" he said with a laugh. \"Just heading in now.\"\n\n\"Of course sir.\" \n\nThe man waved his hand to some unseen figure and the gates slid open. Past the guards the smile vanished from the man's face as he headed towards the residence. At the front door he found it unlocked, as he let himself into the foyer. \n\nHis first order of business was in the basement. Walking silent down the stairs he made his way past the dark game room and dimly lit wine cellar to the far back of the basement. In front of him stood an unremarkable black box that stood about a foot taller than himself. Without looking his hand went to the right side of the box and touched his fingers to a fingerprint scanner. \n\nSeveral seconds passed and he could feel his stomach tightening--it had all been to easy to this point. Before he could put another thought to it, he heard a low click followed by a loud hiss as the air inside the hermetically sealed chamber rushed out. \n\nIn front of him stood himself. The legal registered clone. The one that was meant to be. History doesn't change by passively allowing what is meant to be to occur uninterrupted. Everything will be corrected--by morning there would be only one. \n\nSliding his in his jacket he removed a device about the size of a pen loaded with a ricin pellet, one of the favorite assassination methods of the Kransy Empire, one that would unmistakable be traced back to them. With a smooth movement he jabbed the pen into the neck of the unmoving clone. \n\nAs it wasn't activated it didn't move, but he knew it was dead, or soon be. \n\nNow he turned his attention to his main task. Up the stairs, through the foyer to the bedroom on the upper floor. From the door way he watched himself breathing. He could tell from the irregular rise and fall of his chest he wasn't asleep. \n\n\"Come in,\" Castor said, his voice nearly inaudible. \"I've been waiting for you.\"\n\n\"Are you ready?\" Agent Pollux asked. \n\n\"Is anyone really ever ready to die? Even though I know I will keep living in you, I can't say I'm ready to go.\"\n\n\"Will we be a martyr. Our name will go down in history for ending the evil empire.\"\n\n\"But do I have to die to do it?\" Castor said. \"Maybe there is another way,\" his voice rising in panic. \"We have to find another way.\"\n\n\"You know we won't let you do that,\" Agent Pollux said pushing Castor back down on the bed as he tried to rise. \"This is our path to save our nation. They broke the rules for us, and we cannot betray their trust. Everyone is one.\"\n\nPollux stabbed Castor in the neck with the ricin pen and held his hand over his victim's mouth as he struggled to suck in his last breaths before going limp. \n\nSilent he stood and made his way out of the house, exiting through the backyard to make sure he wasn't seen leaving. \n\nOnce clear of the property he touched the radio at his ear. \"Agent Pollux reporting in. Operation Red Vote completed. I need extraction.\"", "When I took the test at age eighteen, they said I was the smartest person alive. \n\nBy that point, I had just finished my joint master and PhD program, and had published my dissertation on human cloning. A miracle, they called me--the next evolutionary stage of humanity. A budding genius. That year, when I took the ISCA--the International Standardized Cognitive Assessment--I received the highest recorded score since the test's inception. \n\nWhen I was twenty-one, TIME magazine named me the most important person of the 21st century. My lab took me out for drinks to celebrate. \n\nThat night at the pub is one of the last things I remember. \n\nThe next day, we saved the first scans of my living consciousness to our newly born neurological analysis storage. Three years later, those scans would be transferred to the Neurological Analysis Database of Records. Ten years later, the first prototype of the modern \"back-up\" system would be made available to the public. \n\nAnd finally, one hundred and twenty-five years later, the bizarre system that capitalism birthed from my cloning and neurological analysis research would ultimately result in me. \n\nI am the 1,200,141st individual cloned and created from the biological matter and neurological scans of twenty-one year old Dr. Nasim Pastor. My \"name,\" or my day-to-day designation, is Harper. \n\nI suppose you could say it was all ultimately caused by my death. After a long and fulfilling lifetime, and to the dismay of the rest of the world, my progenitor decided it was finally time to pass on to a natural and well-deserved rest. Shortly afterwards, the planet decided it needed to have some sort of extreme and desperately difficult crisis--a crisis to which the world's best and brightest could not find an answer. \"Evolution of humanity,\" indeed... Between this and what was to come, I almost wish I had actually managed to leave behind a child. \n\nWell, anyway, when things were verging on societal collapse, somebody with connections in the back-up industry decided it would be a brilliant idea to revive deceased scholars in order to deal with this problem. As might be expected, my name was one of the first on the list. \n\nAlas, laws at the time already prohibited the creation of clones of the deceased without express written permission from the individual's next-of-kin, and so many of the scholars and dignitaries these geniuses wished to summon were out. Fortunately for the world, however, I had both outlived any significant familial relations and was a notoriously solitary creature, and therefore had absolutely no next-of-kin to speak of. \n\nAnd, as it happened, I had signed full legal permissions regarding the original scans and samples I had taken over to NADR. Thus, through a convenient legal loophole that would be closed immediately thereafter, I was revived. \n\nThe aftermath, of course, was pandemonium: the public was outraged, religious organizations were in fits, and scientists all over the globe were simultaneously both wringing their hankies and secretly hoping to receive an audience. The government immediately corrected the language that had allowed this blatant trampling of human rights, but if history is to be believed, my original clone was not particularly bothered. In fact, I was more than cooperative: several interviews I gave indicated I found the intensity of the public reaction to be amusing. \n\nAs far as what happened after my revival, I suppose the details don't really matter. Suffice it to say I was successful in the mission for which I was originally summoned. In fact, I was so successful, they decided to keep me around...and keep me around, and keep me around, and keep me around...\n\nEventually, when enough years had passed, the public forgot that it was abnormal to have a young twenty-one-year-old standing blandly in the back of every press conference or presidential speech, always looking politely bored, face never changing. I became a fixture of high-profile functions and assemblies; I was in such high demand amongst those who needed me, one of me was no longer enough. NADR had to create more. \n\nI have no idea what leaps of illogic and lunacy must have happened along the line in the minds of those who furthered this absurd system, but somehow the top brass continued to justify the creation of clone after clone to advise those in difficult or high-stress positions. And, well... if I was useful to the public sector, it was only a matter of time before my services were taken up by the private. \n\nCEOs, shareholders, innovators and entrepreneurs: if they were at the top, I advised them all. I don't know what it says about the best minds of our societies that they can't function without an extra genius at their sides, but the effects of the change have been undeniable: productivity and earnings in all businesses employing my services have drastically increased. \n\nI was created approximately fifteen years after my clones made their way into the private sector. At this point, almost any lawyer or businessman worth their salt can requisition the services of a personally made clone from NADR, assuming they can justify their need. A hefty donation to the organization always helps, of course. \n", "I look at a small crowd of people. What is it 40, maybe 60 Jack Dangers?\nScumbags.\n\nI pull the trigger, my rocket is launched, and small mushroom of an explosion blossoms where they used to be a moment ago.\n\nI look at my tablet to check out the stats. Only 1890 copies to go. I rub my hands in satisfaction.\n\nNobody is allowed to make more than one copy of themselves, breaking this rule is punishable by complete extermination, and defragmentation of all the mind-backups from the Vitality servers.\n\nThere's only one exception to this rule - me. My job is to hunt everyone who breaks this rule, and, as you can imagine, it can get quite tedious.\n\nSo many wannabe super villains obsessed with the world domination, or paranoid weirdos terrified of being denied the next revival, keep attempting to make as many of themselves as possible.\n\nThere's no way a regular police force could exterminate so many copies, especially if some of the copies have already started making their own copies and growing exponentially.\n\nThat's where I come in, as an extermination expert, I am allowed to make a small(or a huge) army of my own copies, until every last one of transgressors is hunted down.\n\nOf course, each copy of me has a self-destruction period, so that I wouldn't be tempted to keep my own copies as well, so once the rocket has landed, I feel the unpleasant throbbing sensation in my neck, as the detonator is getting ready to blow my head off.\n\nMy mission here is complete. Here's to hope the original me will enjoy his payout for this job." ]	4
	[WP] He locked up my feet so I couldn't run, my hands so I couldn't work, my brain so I couldn't think. Today, he's coming for my heart so I can't fight.	[ "Everyday, I hate him a little less. \n\nEach time that little square of light opens up, a little bit more of my rage and pain and fury is replaced with gratitude. I know it's irrational. I know that the darkness is his responsibility as well, just as much as the light, but I can't help it. \n\nAfter only a short time in total darkness, you lose track of time. Thoughts stretch out endlessly, going soft and mushy. Your brain plays tricks on you, imagining swirls and bursts of colour that aren't really there. I don't know how long he leaves me in the dark. Each time, it seems like forever. \n\nEach time he takes the light away, I tell myself he'll come back. I keep telling myself that, again and again. My voice is the only way I have of marking time, of knowing that I'm still real. I repeat it, out loud, again and again: he'll come back. He won't leave me here forever. \n\nAfter a while though, it stops being a comfort. The words blend into each other, warp away from their meaning until I can't tell if I'm still making sense or if I'm just chanting nonsense syllables into the dark. At some point, I stop talking. It's not doing any good.\n\nThen the real fear starts to set in. Not the constant hollowness in my stomach, the ever-present thought that no one is looking for me, that I will never be found. No - it's worse than that. The fear that comes next is true terror, panic screaming inside my brain until I beat my hands against the cold walls until they bleed. The pain is bad, re-opening scrapes that have barely stopped bleeding, but it's better than the terror. The terror that he won't come back. The terror that I'll die here, down in the dark. The terror that he was never here at all, that there was never anything but the darkness, that everything else - my life, the sunshine, even the small square of light he lets me have - was just something I made up to stop the panic. \n\nI don't really know what happens next. I stay there, I suppose, curled up on the floor. Maybe I groan, or whimper, or make some other sound. All I know is that my mind stops working, stops thinking, and I plunge down into oblivion to escape the fear.\n\nI come back when the light does. There's a little scrape of metal on metal, and golden, perfect light shines in. I can see the grey walls and the heavy door. I can see my own filthy, ragged clothes and the deep scratches on my arms. I can see, and I know the world is real and that somewhere the sun shines and people - people who I was once like - laugh and run and are free. To see again after the darkness is the most wonderful thing in the world.\n\nAnd so I am grateful. A little more each day. Every time that light shines in, I forget a little more that he put me here, that he could let me leave. I am just wonderfully, perfectly happy that I am no longer in the dark. \n\nIt never lasts for long. After some time - always too short - the light goes again and the darkness returns. \n\nI scream then. I shriek and wail and threaten. I tell him, in great detail, what I'll do to him when I get out. I press my face against the door and scream out my hatred. He does not respond.\n\nAnd then I beg. I plead, offer him anything, if he will give me the light again. I tell him I am sorry and I truly mean it. I weep with contrition, list a thousand sins, as though guilt and remorse will give me the light again. He does not respond.\n\nI am not sure, but I think I plead a little more each time, and rage a little less. When I remember this, I rage more, to convince myself that he is not breaking me. That I am still my own, and still free. But sometimes I am so scared and lonely that I forget.\n\nOne day, there will be no rage left in me. I will be just sadness and begging, with a tiny, tiny spark of gratitude for the light. He will have broken me.\n\nAnd then that spark will grow, I fear, more and more until the gratitude outweighs the misery. That will be worse than being broken - then I won't be me anymore at all.\n\nI hate him for that. I hate that he leaves me in darkness, and I hate that he is taking my self away from me. He is vile, contemptible, evil.\n\nBut he brings the light. \n\n-----------------------------------------------------\n\nI have more stories, should you be interested, at /r/peritract." ]	1
	[WP] "But wizards wear robes, not hoodies and jeans!"	[ "I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:\n\n- [/r/thewordsofxacktar] [\\[WP\\] \"But wizards wear robes, not hoodies and jeans!\"](https://np.reddit.com/r/TheWordsOfXacktar/comments/6bye3w/wp_but_wizards_wear_robes_not_hoodies_and_jeans/)\n\n[](#footer)^(If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads.) ^\\([Info](/r/TotesMessenger) ^/ ^[Contact](/message/compose?to=/r/TotesMessenger))\n\n[](#bot)", "\"Wizards wear robes, not hoodies and jeans!\" Cried Jessica. This wasn't the first time she had gotten on Jakes case about how he came dressed to practice.\n\n\"Well Jessica, to be honest I didn't bring my spell book either,\" Jake chuckled \"You're such a stickler for rules and rules are meant to be broken.\" Jake was of the wilder variety of wizard, not one for all the arcane tradition and tedious studying, and especially not the stupid outfits that looked like dresses. \n\n\"Fine, if you're so against proper etiquette then lets have a duel and when I win Jake, you have to follow all of the rules for the rest of the year. If you win I'll do any stupid magic experiment you want.\" Jessica's face red with anger at all of his constant goofing off. Magic was serious business and people could get hurt why didn't Jake of all people understand that?\n\nJakes face turned serious. \"Have it your way Jess, a duel is fine by me I've been itching for a chance to show what I can do for awhile anyways. Lets go.\"\n\nThe two entered the gymnasium and both took their spots. \"Lets cover the rules one more time.\" prompted Jessica. \n\nJake rolled his eyes, she always looked down on him like he was some idiot. He was the only one in the class who even kept up with her. \"No magic beyond level 3 as our wards can't protect from anything above that. The first person to land three hits or cause the opponent to be unable to continue is the winner.\" Jessica nodded in agreement and took her spot.\n\n\"I wont be going easy on you Jake.\" she taunted as she rolled her shoulders. \n\n\"That's fine even at your best you won't beat me\" he retorted while casually cracking his knuckles. Jake focused on the well of mana inside his core and activated the clock to countdown from 10. \n\nAs the counter ticked down he took a second to decide what type of magic he wanted to use. He was normally a bit of a show off, but today he was feeling subtle. \n\nThe clock struck zero and the opponents hands flared to life with energy. Jake wordlessly casting a mirror spell before working more of his mana into a firebolt he sent rocketing towards Jessica. \n\nShe was ready for it \"Aqua surge!\" she yelled as a jet of water shot out of her palm dowsing the fireball and continuing right in to Jakes mirror spell. The water twisted around Jake and launched back into her with renewed force knocking her on to the floor.\n\nJake one to always press his advantage raised his right arm over head and flicked it back down conjuring a bolt of lightning from up above threatening to crash into Jessica while she recovered. However, as the bolt came down it faded out of existence harmlessly.\n\nJessica burst out laughing while pushing up off the floor. \"You can cast wordless, but you can't keep your mana concentrated well enough for lightning bolt? I'll show you some real lightning magic jake.\" Her long brown hair stood on end as lightning sparked to life between her hands jumping back and forth growing in power. Jessica closed her eyes to focus the energy into a spell. \"Thunder shock.\"\n\nA small lightning storm formed above Jake and began raining multiple bolts of lightning down upon him. Striking him barely before he carelessly dove to the side out of the way. \"Conjure wall.\" Jake knew what was coming before he even hit it and tensing in anticipation. He smashed into the invisible wall and dropped to the floor with a thud. he looked up to see Jessica casually playing with her hair.\n\n\"See Jake, you're so talented, but you neglect the basics. If you give up now I'll help you with your foundations if you'll teach me how to cast wordlessly.\" She said in a soft voice. \n\nJake hesitated, was she serious or was this a charm spell to try and get her third strike off? He couldn't risk it, but either way he could play the situation to his advantage. \"That actually sounds, like a good deal.\" He said standing up casually curling his finger. Anything powerful will take to long and she'll counter it, but in a duel a hits a hit he thought to himself. \"You know what Jessica, that's a great offer, but I refuse.\" he spoke as he uncurled his finger and fired off a weak ray of pure light. Hitting her square in the chest, barely making her take a step backwards.\n\n\"What was that Jake!? I was being serious and you use the chance to take a cheap shot? Alright, fine lets end this then.\" Jessica raised her hands to cast her strongest spell. \"Frost form\" bringing her hands together and thrusting them towards her confused opponent. \n\nJake felt the chill begin around him immediately, but he didn't understand. Frost form? What did that spell do? He didn't have time to speculate every second he hesitated he felt the chill strengthen. He made one last move in desperation. focusing his mana into his right foot and hands. He smashed it into the floor sending splintered wood into the all around Jessica, and collapsed his hands together causing them to fly towards Jessica with violent speed. Right as the make shift wood spears smashed into her ward Jake felt his body freeze unable to move. \n\nWhen Jake finally sat up he looked up at Jessica sitting next to him pulling a splinter out of her hand. \"Damn I actually hit you didn't I? I'm sorry, I put too much energy into that spell and I think it made it slightly above our level agreement.\"\n \n\"yes, you did, but ice form is a level 4 spell which is why you were frozen for the last 45 minutes. I'm sorry too. We both got a little too serious at the end there, but I'm impressed your casting was fantastic except for that lightning bolt.\" she teased. \"I think we call it a draw to be fair which means we both get our prizes I suppose. So, for the rest of the year you have to come to class prepared for practice and I have to do one thing at your request too.\" \n\n\"Ok, I will come to class with my spell book even though I don't need it, but I won't wear the robes. They do nothing to increase my ability to do magic. you're impressed with my magic, but I think you'll be even more impressed with my cooking skills if you'll let me make you dinner sometime as our agreement?\" he whispered nervously.\n \n\nSmash me with that criticism boys/girls. I always want to try writing, like I feel my ideas are good but translating them into writing sucks. criticism is appreciated.", "Aoife looked down at her hoodie- proudly emblazoned with the words ‘My wand is in my other pants’ and the worn jeans below. \n\n“But these are comfortable,” she shrugged. “And way less conspicuous. Do you know how many people bug me when I go out in ritual-garb?”\n\nShe finished wiping down her newest crystals with a damp cloth and woke each of them with a touch of magic, making them glow appealingly in the dimness of her coffee shop/magic store. \n\nThe woman across from her was her opposite. Everything about her- from her black witch hat to the ornate velvet robes- shouted Magic-User! from the rooftops. Her twisted expression told Aiofe exactly what she thought of the blasé comment. \n\n“It is unprofessional,” she complained, voice artificially loud and clearly designed to catch the attention of the manager of the store. “It shames the Users of Magic to have to buy from someone like you.”\n\nAiofe sighed and set the crystals aside. “Ma’am, is there something I can help you find?”\n\nMama would kill her if she chased a customer out without at least trying to sell her something. \n\n“We have some really great tuning crystals, and the bulk herbs are guaranteed to be fresh and potent.” She offered with a long-perfected Customer Smile. The woman didn't smile back.\n\n“I bought some lavender here last week and it was so old it had no scent,” she continued to complain loudly. Her hat wobbled. “It completely ruined my spells!”\n\n“If you bring it back we would be happy to exchange the unused portion,” Aiofe told her frankly. “Or if you would prefer, we have a truth crystal set up to verify failure of product.”\n\n“You don't believe me?” The witch was scandilized. “Go get your manager, young lady! This rudeness has gone far enough!”\n\n“I’m the manager, ma’am,” Aiofe said pointedly. She leaned forward on the counter to look the woman in the eye. “And even if I wasn't, we don't allow bullying our employees here. If there is a legitimate problem with a purchase, I am happy to take care of you. If you are trying to get something for free- which I’m sure you are-you can either prove your claims, or leave.”\n\n“I have never been so offended!” The witch snarled. She made a gesture, magic glowing around her hands and Aiofe straightened abruptly. “For that I curse you-“\n\nBefore she could finish, Aiofe snapped her fingers, free hand resting on a long, richly-colored point of rose quartz. Her own magic came quickly and formed a shield around the woman, boxing her in with her own spell. \n\n “How dare you curse someone because they won't give you something for free?” She twisted her magic again and imprinted the woman’s magical signature into a piece of tumbled, clear quartz. “I’m sending your information to the Magical Consortium. Get out of my shop and don't come back.”\n\nStruck silent and released from the shield, the woman scrambled for the door with barely backward glance. Aiofe watched her go and couldn't resist one more tiny bit of magic to slam the door behind her.\n \n“Wizards don't wear hoodies,” she grumbled. “Hah!”", "\"Dude, this isn't the fourteenth century.\" Harold leaned back in the ratty office chair and covered his mouth as a yawn interrupted him, \"There isn't a damn dress code for magi.\"\n\n\"Don't you at least need, like, a spell book or something?\" Willis Scoville paced back and forth in front of Harold. The strips of light from the blind-covered window cast strips of illumination on his face and shoulders.\n\nHarold held up a Kindle Fire and waved it back and forth, \"Twelve hundred collected spells, cantrips, and image-guides for proper warding.\"\n\n\"So you're saying that anyone... anyone out on the street with an e-reader could be some physics-warping badass with the ability to cast fireballs and all that?\" \n\n\"Nah.\" Harold pocketed the Kindle, \"Who the hell uses fireballs anymore? Come on, man. I mean, they're flashy for sure, but fire is just a waste of power when you can use Melior's Crushing Force on someone's femur or trachea instead.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"We have had anatomy classes before. Most of us graduated high school. Shocking, I know!\" Harold huffed loudly and shook his head, \"Sarcasm aside, most of our combat spells target specific things inside the body now. No self-respecting wizard would be caught dead using any spell that had a visual component. First off, it wastes power and casting time. It also greatly increases the chance of being caught. We're under constant video surveillance now, do you think anyone would be dumb enough to summon lightning on a minor thug while the NSA watches?\"\n\n\"Well,\" Scoville stopped pacing and looked down at Harold, \"No, I suppose not.\"\n\n\"Hell, ninety percent of my job is running down the stupid bastards who do go for the flashy stuff. Flesh-grafting, mind-slaving, causal nixing... god, those cases get annoying.\" Harold fought against another yawn and lost, \"Dyaahhh, Do you know how gross it is trying to incapacitate a Melder with several hosts? It's gross. Like, really nasty, man.\"\n\n\"I don't believe this.\"\n\n\"Fine.\" Harold got up out of his chair and wandered toward the door, \"I'm going to bed. Don't touch my Kindle.\"" ]	4
	[WP] You are a vengeful god, angry at the actions that mortals have done in the previous years. Unlike most gods though, you decide to unleash your wrath in seemingly minor ways.	[ "This is my first prompt ever, apologies if it's no good! Kind of went off-track a bit.\n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\nEvery single thing on Earth has a God assigned to it. But the rule on Earth is “Life’s not fair”, and that holds just as true to the Gods above that it does to the humans below. \n\n\nEveryone knows the most famous of them. Zeus, God of Thunder; Ares, God of War; Anubis, God of the Afterlife; Ra, God of the Sun; Tsukuyomi, God of the Moon; Vishnu the Protector, etc. The list could go on almost indefinitely. With importance comes reverence (and one can’t much argue about the importance of the Sun and the Moon), and so the most powerful amongst us only needs worry about the most important ideals and symbols.\n\n\nThen comes the other side of the coin. Less significant symbols are pushed off to one of the lesser Gods at the end of the hierarchy. These lessers often take care of five, six, even seven smaller aspects of life and items of smaller importance. Most humans never know the name of these Gods, although they shoulder the grunt work. \n\n\nAnd then there’s me. I, Ashkrul, am charged with overseeing ten of the worst and underappreciated items there are. \n\n\nAshkrul – God of Photocopiers, Potholes, Wrinkled Clothing, Indigestion, Too-Ripe Bananas, Spiders, Eye-Goop, Kidney Stones, White Sunglasses, and the Music of Justin Bieber.\n\n\nToday, like every day, I sit at my astral workstation and go through the complaints from the day before. I note them as I go, wincing and grimacing at how obscene and creative some of them can be. I press ‘Delete’ almost immediately when I see one that starts with “You can shove this up….” and sigh, a long drawn-out breath that echoes my frustration with this existence. Surely Ra doesn’t get as many complaints about the Sun, does he? What would he get, “The sun came into my room a bit early and woke me up”? Regardless, complaints or not they were respected and the humans knew they were necessary. \n\n\nIt had been a hundred years since I had received any sort of positive acknowledgement, and that was because someone had received indigestion at a Taco Bell and won some free burritos for the inconvenience. \n\n\nA new complaint pops up to the top of my queue, a red exclamation mark notes it as urgent. \n\n\nGreat, I think to myself, maybe I’ll forward this one over to Grashlock afterwards, maybe he’ll at least get a laugh out of it.\n\n\nI slowly look it over, first thinking it’s some sort of joke. But it seems legitimate, and the slight humour I found in it turns to anger.\n\n\n“Hey, Ashkrul, that is your name isn’t it? It took me years, but I finally found your name mentioned in some Holy Book about pathetic little Gods that aren’t remembered by most people. How fun is it, being the laughing stock of the immortals? Thanks to you, I lost my job after I smashed a photocopier to pieces when it jammed for the fifth time that day. I ran over a pothole on my way home and blew a tire, and was then serenaded by the worst music of all time while sitting on hold for the tow truck company. Their only on-duty driver got kidney stones, so guess who had to walk the rest of the way home? After that, I got bit by a rare spider and almost lost my arm. What good are you, why bother being a God of useless, minor trash that no one wants?\n\nBob Kennesky, 50, Nisku, Alberta, Canada”\n\n\nI attempt to concentrate, to not let it overtake me. I fail at that as well, materializing an industrial-size photocopier from thin air and throw it forward, smashing my workstation to pieces. \n\n\nYou want me to give up, fine, I give up.\n\n\nI walk to the elevator and click “Ground Floor”, the doors close and while I watch the lights flicker past me at a maddening pace, a smile creeps up my face.\n\nLet's see how well they do without me. Meanwhile, I’ve got a mortal to kill.\n" ]	1
	[WP] Demons run when a good man goes to war.	[ "> I'd love to reply to my own prompt, while I'm at it. It is not necessarily a story, more how I interpret the quote. Though, I suppose you could read it as a character pondering it.\n\n\"Demons run when a good man goes to war.\"\n\nI've always loved that quote. It implies that, when you manage to piss off a true good person, he will not hold back, unleashing a force so fierce that even demons will run.\n\nSometimes, I want to believe that I am a good man. But what is a good man? \nIs it a man who upholds the law at any cost?\nIs it a man who lives as selflessly as they can?\nOr, perhaps, is it a man who will give it all, just to positively affect one life?\n\nThere are too many options to truly know this. It's the cause of my belief that, possibly, my way of life is one of these many options.\nThe man that ponders things that he may never truly know. The man that is sometimes too afraid to make a decision, too self-conscious to make the leap. The man that dreams of impossible things, hoping. Hoping, that these dreams may one day come true. The man that knows not everything will be as he wants it to be.\nThe man that can accept that.\n\nSome days, I manage to convince myself, that I am a good man.", "They came to take my person,\nThey came to take my pride,\nThey tread upon the fading names\nOf those who, for us, died.\n\nI earned my keep and did my part,\nTo provide to those without;\nMy children and my family\nAnd those who cannot shout,\n\nAnd decry the evil lunacy\nThat plagues this sorry land.\nCorruption, Greed and Gluttony\nIs their own God's Right Hand.\n\nI took the tools they gave me,\nEducation and the First,\nThey thought they could supress me\nBut I fought the High Accursed.\n\nI built a massive army,\nOf people just like me.\nOur voices were our weapons,\nAnd we fought our enemy.\n\nWe took our land back from them;\nOur rights are now preserved.\nWe ended their reign of terror\nAnd Justice was well deserved.\n\nCorruption, Greed and Gluttony\nAre present nevermore,\nBecause Demons run in terror\nWhen Good Men go to war." ]	2
	[WP] God is a bar owner.	[ "He seemed reserved.\n\n\"Whatever bourbon is your cheapest,\" I said. \"Double.\"\n\nHe nodded, fetched a bottle from the rail and filled my glass. It was far more than a double.\n\n\"You're a godsend,\" I said.\n\nHe nodded.\n\n\"Now let me tell you something,\" I said as I quite more than sipped the bourbon and remembered the decision I'd made to make myself more open and more amiable and generally more good-willed, some hours or weeks or months ago. \"Let me tell you something about myself,\" I said.\n\nThe bartender -- that is, the bar owner -- that is, God himself (as I'd later learn of him) ---- nodded and smiled and did his whole silly humble act and shit. \"Let me tell you,\" I said. \"Let me tell you about fuckin' divorce.\"\n\nMy glass was empty and he obligingly refilled it and if he'd been wearing lipstick or a wig I might have kissed him for such a beautiful gesture. But he was not and so I did not and he stood there silently and waited for me to unload my emotions upon him like an unwanted shotgun.\n\n\"Let me tell you about fuckin' divorce,\" I repeated. \"Shit. Let me tell you about human relationships. One moment -- one moment, I tell you -- one moment you're there, and you know the story and you know the game and you're in charge. And then you blink -- you fuckin' blink for only a second. You blink and then everything you thought you knew is gone, and yeah, it's probably your fault but that doesn't soften the blow and there's an explosion and you're the demolition crew who gets called in later to pick up the pieces and to try and solve the crime. But try as you might, all you ever have are pieces and no solution and you have to leave it unfinished, unsolved, incomplete. You have to let it lie. You have to let it fuckin' lie.\n\nThe bartender -- God, as I'd learn later -- he nodded and motioned with the bottle and I hadn't even finished this one, so I downed it and nodded and he refilled it and I continued:\n\n\"The worst part,\" I said. \"The worst part of the whole fuckin' thing is not knowing, you know?\"\n\nHe stood motionless.\n\n\"It's the not knowing that kills you,\" I said. \"Tell me, I fucked this other guy, right? Tell me that much at least. I'm not gonna be happy, but it will at least give a certain amount of closure and the ability to move on. It'll give me some goddamn closure, right?!\"\n\nI don't know when it was that I knew. To be honest, I never even asked him, and he never indicated with any sort of voodoo holy-symbol sort of way that he was indeed God. But I knew. I fuckin' knew. You don't unload your heart in such a way to some asshole who isn't God.\n\nSo I said, \"At least give me some closure.\" And God nodded and I said, \"You create all this shit in 7 days and you gotta expect there's gonna be some problems with the whole setup. You gotta put in some bug-fixes at some point.\"\n\nGod nodded and refilled my drink that I didn't remember draining and I continued:\n\n\"How can somebody, how can you craft such a master plan where so many people get hurt? Look, this marriage shit, it's not meant for people like me, right? It's meant for your faithful. And yet, look at the statistics, brother. It's not working out for the majority. It's not working out at all.\"\n\nThat sonuvabitch smiled and there was a girl at the end of the bar with brunette hair and I had a thing for brunettes, so I said, \"A drink for the pretty girl down there.\"\n\nThis holiest of holies, this Jesus reincarnate smiled at me and went to the end of the bar like a robot and poured his sweetness into the glass of the brunette who sat there. She looked up at me with a darkness and a hopelessness and therefore an inescapable hope in her eyes and although she didn't say \"thank you,\" I could tell she was saying, \"thank you.\"\n\nThis bartender had converted two nonbelievers tonight. He had brought two hopeless atheists into the fold on this night. I raised my glass to the brunette and with a dead-eyed gesture she raised hers and we smiled at one another and the bartender smiled and we drank." ]	1
	[WP] While on holiday you were offered a free tattoo from a travelling tattoo artist and your friends talked you into it. Now you've started developing powers linked with the art of your tattoo.	[ "No fucking way!\nC'mon man, don't be a puss puss.\nI don't know man... This is how you probably get hep c.\nOh please, I see he has disinfection shit... look, he's got rubbing alcohol right there...\nOh I didn't see that... rubbing alcohol, good enough for me.\n\nThe heirophant wanderer and my friend go off and chat for a minute\nwhile I stagger into some bushes and take a massive leak. Those 12 Miller Lites went down so easy. Awww awww awwwww shiiiiiiit it felt so good to piss it all out. \n\nBy the time I drag myself away from my illegal outdoor pissing corner, the travelling tattoo artist had setup a small booth, complete with a tip jar and a little thermos of \"complimentary tea - lemongrass and oolong\". \n\nI sit down on the small plastic guest chair and he asks which part of the neck i want it on.\nI suggest my ankle, he insists on my cheek. I make a gambit, how about the bicep? He doubles down with my forehead. This goes on for a few more minutes, we finally agree on the the right forearm. Of course, we are both unsatisfied with the outcome, and grumpily I put my forearm on the holster and he grumpily revs up his tattoo engine.\n\nA few hours later and he is wiping the tattoo clean, using some off version of Vaseline. He says all spookily in shit \"Make sure you don't get it wet hombre... long dramatic pause especially after midnight\" \n\n... I yawn a a bit, I really should've picked up more Millers before I sat down. \"Whatsthat?\" I say reactively, not hearing aword, since I'm still wondering where the nearest grog salesman is.\n\n\"I says you shouldn't get your tattoo wet... especially after midnight.\"\n\"Oh, that old thing. Ok.\" I think to all the massive plotholes in movies where something shouldn't get wet or is allergic to water, but I nod sagely at him. I stand up and shake his hand, which is surprisingly moist. \n\nHe tells me he works on tips, and motions towards the tip jar. At this point, my friend has just returned with some hoochie he just met, and they drunkenly come to inspect the work. \n\"Ooh nice work! thanks man, my bro here needed some tats to make him look a little tougher.\" His words hurt my feelings, and I couldn't help but frown a bit, now feeling a little sad. The girl he is with points and laughs in my face, and i get a bit sadder. I think she thought I was acting, but her pointing and laughing hurt even more. \n\nI start to walk away but the tattoo artist coughs loudly. I look back, and the tip jar now has colorful ribbons tied around it. Bowing deeply, I start walking away again, dejected, when I hear a firecracker. I look back, and the tip jar now has blinking led lights. Sighing, I open up my wallet and drop a Starbucks rewards card into it, partially used. He bows graciously but I can hear him muttering something to himself as I start walking back to the hotel alone. \"Text me!\" my friend yells as him and his girl are heard laughing and staggering to the next amusement.\n\n\"I'm going to the hotel, I got a headache!\" I lie, because I'm still hurt he told somebody that I'm not very tough. A few hours sitting in the hotels bathtub ought to make me feel better. That and a few sad Elton John songs always fixes my mood. \n\nI make it into my hotel room and start the tub. The heat and the mist relax me enough that I take a little nap. I awake, it is now almost dinner time, and I can't wait to try on a new outfit, one that shows off my new tattoo. The tattoo covers about half of my forearm, the part I consider my \"pretty half.\" I see I got a text from my friend, he says they are at the Copacabana, and that I should get my black ass down there asap or I'll miss the festivities.\n\nSo I get dressed, downing tall boy Millers until my feelings are assuaged. I find the perfect shirt to roll back, making sure everyone can see my tattoo. I use my phones GPS to get to the party, and now its almost midnight. I sure hope that tattooing hobo used some special ink, I was thinking to myself, when I'm interrupted by this thought by hearing what seems to be a wild pack of cackling hyenas.\n\nOf course we aren't on the Savannah, it is just my friend and his party of girls. I order a Miller in can and wouldn't you know it, the mother fucking ball drops and it is now midnight.", "This is my first time posting here, but I was excited for the prompt and decided to try :). Please excuse any stupid formatting errors, I'm on mobile. Thanks!\n\n\"Hey, you.\" The voice comes out of a dingy alley, a scratched-up baritone punctuated by a cough. \"You wanna tattoo?\" A middle-aged man strides out of the corridor, a cigarette in his mouth and a folder in his hand. \"Look, my portfolio. You've probably heard of me, right? The Traveling Tattoo Tramp?\" \nAmazed, you look at the folder he offered. You have heard tales about him, a dusty man known for shady offers and magnificent ink for those who take him up on the offer.\n\"Yeah,\" you say, \"I have. You tattooed Obama, right? Gave him that American flag a year or two before he ran for Senator?\"\n\"Mmhmm, that was me. I saw potential in him. I was in Chicago at the time, saw him passin'. Knew he was gonna be big sometime, tried ta' give him some help along the way.\" \nYou look up from the portfolio, amazed at this seemingly creepy man matching up to beautiful works of art created by the hallowed Traveling Tattoo Tramp. Of course, you had to get one. Who would pass that up?\n\"How long would it take?\" You ask. \"Matters the piece. For you, if you don' mind me input, probably two hours.\" \nYou check your watch. You've got 4 hours to do appointments til you're due back at the office. This wasn't an opportunity you were likely to ever get again. You had a few tattoos, a rose on your forearm and the date of your mother's birth and passing under it, but already the thrill began to seep in.\n\"Why not?\" You say. \"What are you thinking for me? I'd like something nature related. I work at a zoo, so it'd be cool to have something I could relate to.\"\n\"Sure,\" he muttered, digging around in a small, ratty leatherbound sketchbook. \"This is where the magic happens, and if I'm not mistaken, right here!\" With a flourish, he tears out a page of the book and presents it to you. A stunning mountain rose against the paper, a lake at its feet. It was reminiscent of a Bob Ross painting, but in a form fit for the skin. At the top of the page, it had the letters AF, and CONSERVATION. An interesting coincidence, you said to yourself. Your name is Anna Faye, no middle name. \n\"Yeah, I'll take that one. Maybe right here, on my right forearm? I have another tattoo on my left.\" Nervously, you remove your cardigan and expose your whole arm. \n\"Righty then, come on over here and sit yerself down. I'll clean the area an' we'll git started real quick.\" He swabs the swathe of skin, and transfers the ink from the sketch to my skin. Miraculously, there was a pretty clinical-looking workbench complete with a generator and multiple vials of ink. He picks up his tattoo gun, and you are lost in black when it makes contact.\n\nYou wake up, disoriented. You are sitting alone in the alley. You check the time. 8:27 PM. You panic, unsure where seven hours passed since my conversation with the man. You see my forearm bandaged, and pray that it's the work of art from earlier, not a hideous violation of my skin. You stand up, and go home.\n\nFive Years Later\n\nYou sit back, gazing out from the mountain, a lake shimmering at the bottom. You see a vast wilderness stretched out in front of you, finally free from humans. Four years ago, you set out on a mission to help save critically endangered species and help heal the planet. After the decimation of all but a select few hives, you cursed humanity in their greed. Then you set out for the wilds. You were in the wilderness, alone, when the first emergence of the pandemic shook the world. You emerged to half of the world decimated, and went back to the world you knew. A few days ago, you attempted to make contact with humanity. All you had were a few emails, one from your father. He told you that everyone was dying. There were only a few dozen healthy humans left. Most of them were lost, like you. You are one of the last people on Earth. The world has been conserved. ", " I guess this is kinda good and kinda bad in some ways. Pros: I can go anywhere I want and if I train I may be able to go through time, I'm also hot now instead of being ugly... even if the body's really different. Con: I can't taste food and I feel emotionless sometimes... I was losing emotions before but it's even harder to feel now. All this is because of a tattoo I got from some guy.\n\n I wasn't the happiest guy, I was bored with life and didn't really look good, I wasn't too upset about it at that point since I had a \"meh\" feeling about everything. I was at a bar with my friends and a person approached us saying he was a tattoo artist and he could give a free tattoo. Everyone else said no but I looked at the stuff he'd use, new needles and everything and even a new thing of ink.\n\n I said alright and got [something on my bicep](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/e7/a6/63/e7a6630515931f904d2473e6737f3386.jpg) that wasn't too big. Some of my friends thought it was basically the most \"not give a shit\" moment but the tattoo was good. I went home and went to bed like normal and when I woke up that's when my life changed.\n\n I woke up on my couch and looked at the ceiling, everything felt different and normally my feet reached the edge of the couch but now they reached a little over half. I usually sat up when sleeping so I looked down at myself and I was wearing a white shirt with black briefs, it was odd because I went to bed with a black t-shirt and grey boxers. I also noticed something different, long red hair was reaching my chest which was now showing a way different chest due to the shirt being a v-neck.\n\n I jumped up and looked myself over, I was skinny and definitely wasn't myself anymore... I was some red haired girl. When I turned my head to look at my back I saw wings... they looked like hawk wings and were slightly see through and lighting up while being in their folded form. I fully opened them which caused the lights in the room to flicker and I saw the shadow of the wings on the wall.\n\n I needed to see my reflection in a mirror and the people I lived with had a big one and were gone so I went upstairs in my townhouse and looked in the mirror. [I jumped back](https://image.tmdb.org/t/p/w1000/lcDAR2HhkJoCAOrUGYmD58igomK.jpg) seeing my new body. Then I got close to the mirror and looked in my eyes... they were beautiful and so was everything else, I was taking everything relatively calm and I didn't know why since this was crazy.\n\n When I looked at my face for a while I realized I looked like Anna, an angel in Supernatural. I wondered if I had the powers and grabbed a picture then broke it and closed my eyes focusing on the broken picture frame. When I opened my eyes it was sitting where it was before I broke it and it didn't have any damage. I thought about the teleporting and focused on the alley in the city I was near sometimes, I closed my eyes again and focused then felt wind on my face and felt my now long hair gently blowing back.\n\n I opened my eyes and I was in the alley... I was still in my briefs and I t-shirt and I saw people looking at me when a few walked by on the side walk, I thought about home and was home again. I thought this was pretty cool and decided to try the invisible thing where people couldn't see me then teleported to a store to get some clothes. I was in Walmart and nobody was looking at me so I walked to the clothing part and picked out some clothes and put them on. \n\n [I looked at myself in the mirror](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/tr/5/5c/Supernatural_Anna.jpg) then decided to try teleporting across the world. I remembered an image of a street in Japan and teleported there, In an instant I was there and didn't close my eyes this time so it was like a flash. Looking around there were some people but I was still in invisible mode then went to somewhere alone to turn visible. I walked around for a while enjoying the sights then reached a ramen place.\n\n I thought I'd try food and went inside but remembered I had no money, I was lucky the person who owned the place spoke a little English and I saw he had a cane. Before I ordered anything I asked what was wrong and he told me \"bad back\", I thought I'd try out another power and looked around to see we were alone then stood up and poked his forehead focusing on healing him. He looked shocked at first then held his back and walked around just fine, he was older but he looked like he didn't suffer from any adverse effects of aging now.\n\n He bowed at me thanking me and brought me free food then I tried it, I was upset when I didn't taste anything like when I was human. He noticed and I explained to him I didn't have taste buds, and assured him it'd be the best thing I ever tasted if I did, he understood. Next I wanted to see New York so I went to an alley and teleported to another alley in New York. It was kinda wide and I was suddenly [hit by a car](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/supernutjapan/65364669/2354845/2354845_original.jpg) that was driving out of the alley. \n\n I left no indent and I was fine then the guy driving got out and asked why I would walk out like that and the woman in the passenger side was asking if I was alright. I said I was fine and we didn't need to worry about insurance or anything, he took out a 20 and I said it was fine he didn't need to pay me as it was my fault. I put my hand on the car looking unbalanced for a second but really I was fixing the damage.\n\n I wandered around the city a while till I saw 6 guys beating someone up in a dark alley. I waked over and asked what he did when one of the guys was taking stuff from the guy who was on the ground who looked hurt. They walked up and I knocked the first guy that came out with a touch, another had a bloody knife in his hand which he stabbed me in the side... it didn't hurt more than a paper cut but I got a little mad when seeing the guy they were hurting was stabbed. \n\n I put my hand on the forehead of the guy with the knife and his eyes and mouth glowed then he fell dead. I looked at the other guys and they ran away with one clumsily falling into a trash can but I let them leave. Seeing the hurt guy I walked over and healed him and he sat up, he was basically out during most of the beating and I told him I scared the guys off and the stabbing was just a dream that they only cut his shirt.\n\n He believed me and I left back to my apartment to lay down... I remembered I didn't have to sleep so I just played RE7 while being invisible to the people I lived with. I just spent the next month kinda doing that sorta daily routine and I got an apartment in New York then put my stuff in it... this confused the people I lived with but I decided not to say anything to them... I was good at ghosting.\n\n It's been a few months since the tattoo and things are pretty good now even if I have no taste buds and feel a little numb emotionally.\n\n ", "I've always wanted one of those watercolor tattoos. Have you seen them on Pinterest? They're amazing, but the artists who do them are expensive and hard to find. When I got the chance to get one at a convention, I jumped at it.\n\nI told the artist to just make something beautiful, to use me as his canvas. I saw this guy's portfolio. Anything I would have told him to do, any instruction I could have given him, would only have made the piece worse. The best thing to do for a guy like that is let him work his magic.\n\nThat's exactly what he did.\n\nI didn't see the finished piece until he pulled the needle from my arm for the last time. When I looked in the mirror, I actually cried a little bit.\n\nHe created a cascading color scheme of delicate geometric shapes and ink splatters. It started at the top of my left shoulder and went all the way down my arm. At the top were the primary colors: red, blue, and yellow. These mixed and intermingled to form all of the secondary and tertiary colors in a beautiful mixture of shapes and designs that I can't even begin to describe. It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen. \n\nIn the weeks after I got the tattoo, I noticed that things were a little different for me. It was like I had more influence, like people were taking their cues from me. I thought it was just the confidence I had received from my awesome new tattoo. People were always asking about it, complimenting it - it was a huge ego boost.\n\nThen I started noticing the Auras. Depending on my mood, the world was bathed in a subtle, but noticeably different light. It took me a while to realize that the color was based on my mood, and that the color affected everyone around me.\n\nThe colors corresponded to the moods you would expect. If I'm angry, the world is tinged with red, and everyone is indignant on my behalf. When I'm happy, everything has a touch of yellow to it, and everyone laughs at my jokes. Green colors the world if I'm disgusted or nauseous. That's a dangerous one, because you don't want to be in a restaurant full of people who are about to be sick.\n\nI've learned to project the colors independently of my mood - that's just how the Auras manifested themselves at first. I can control them now. I can mix them, too, creating more complex moods than merely pure outrage or joy. I can create bittersweet, guilty anger, pride or humility. Any human emotion is within my ability to create and project in the form of color.\n\nWhen I first learned how to control the power, I felt guilty at first, but also excited, like I had found something forbidden that I wasn't supposed to enjoy, but that felt amazing. I had to overcome the guilt, though, because it gave all of my auras a gross orange tint.\n\nI'm doing very well for myself. Women love me, and men, when I feel like it. I started a business as a life coach for famous people, and it's going very well. I'm meeting all kinds of celebrities, and I'm a hit with all of them. My bank account is growing. So is my sphere of influence. Who knows? Maybe I'll run for office in a few years.\n\nWherever I got, I wear sleeveless shirts so the whole world can behold the beauty of my tattoo. It's everything to me. It changed my life. It's as though I could only see in black in white before, and now the world is painted in colors that I could have never imagined." ]	4
EDIT: Even though this is my writing prompt, I'm responding to it. The pitch black monolith rumbled, and it began to move. Arms. Legs. Body. Head. It was a very square construction, made of rectangles. The head was stout, and had glowing emerald green eyes. It slowly looked at the lead scientist, and held out a large hand. Everyone in the room was terrified. It picked up the lead scientist, who began yelling in fear. It then did something completely unexpected. It... hugged him, and said one word in a deep, booming voice. "Friend..."	[WP] A massive monolith crashes to Earth, covered in alien writing. A few weeks after scientists began to research it, it transforms into a golem-like creature.	[ "The monolith creaked and cracked. It turned the stomachs of the soldiers and onlookers. With a final deafening noise, It awoke. Towering over any building in sight, visible from most corners of the world. It’s head reached orbit as the Earth’s axis moved out of it customary path.\n\nThe bombs pummelled and wrecked. The nation’s that could see the colossal being, gave it everything they had, while the other side of the world watched agonisingly. It did not move, didn’t say a word and showed no signs of abandon.\n\nThe smoke gathered and obscured it from sight. The nations held their collective breath.\n\nThrough the smoke, it moved. It formed a fist and punched the Earth with all its might.\n\nBillions of years in the making. Destroyed instantaneously.\n" ]	1
	[WP] Not everyone is the hero of their own story. Sometimes it's a parent, spouse, good friend or even a random stranger who is the hero.	[ "When I was fourteen, I wanted to escape. Bad cakes and bad acne made the real world a living mess. You could find me clocking hours in lands far away, where avatars had magical powers and like new clothes a kid could pick out a new name. There was laughter and anger, eventually even a girl with a voice and the pixels to match. I was prince charming, and she was the perfect catch. For a while, the world didn't seem so bad -that is if you skipped the nine to four. The moment I logged in, reality began, days like those could have kept me contempt until I was knocking on heaven's door. \n\nLife in the dream world got better, while the world of touch, smell, and taste got real bad. Teacher's put in complaints against me, a phone call was orchestrated to my old man. You can imagine the fury, to learn that your son is four years below his mark. Yet every night you come home from work and see him bashing computer keys, drinking Pepsi in the dark. \n\nThe old man couldn't take it, and all Mum needed was an excuse. My dream world days were snuffed out, smoking candle, dead world, leaving me without a light or a fuse. \n\nIt's sad to say it now, but that was all I had and everything I knew. The place where people fought over girls and grades made no sense, it was like I'd been stuck somewhere cruel. And every Sunday I'd be forced to church, left wondering if I was trapped in hell. Thoughts of shutting the gate for good drifted, but the thinking got me clued. \n\nIf I hit the switch and this wasn't the worst, then I was walking into a trap. Maybe I'd eaten the biscuit before the custard, a pudding in reverse. I talked to my parents - like in game leaders - and they nailed me, as they rightfully should. It was time to put an end to the madness, to place my dollar in the coin machine, and give the game of life a real run. \n\nFast forward a decade, nearly two, and I haven't looked back since. The deep dark pit I'd dug around me, always makes me frown and cringe. But you've gotta hit rock bottom before you can look up and admire the dirt. After the long climb back up, there's no chance of leaving Earth. And sometimes I reflect on how bad I was, and the shadows that still lurk in the crevices of a youthful mind. At any time I could have gone too far with no space for tears or rewind. \n\nBut a good parent cares enough to hurt you. And a great teacher wants the best despite your dislike. I sometimes wonder what happened to the girl in dream land and if she was lucky enough to be hauled back into life. \n \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] The world is ending between two characters.	[ "The First of It All met the Last of It All on the dying stone.\n\n¨This earth is dying,¨ the First said.\n\n¨It is reforming,¨ the Last corrected.\n\n¨Reforming, expanding, turning small, then scattered far, yes. The world reforms, but before, it dies.¨\n\n¨If you see it like that, you are right, it is dying.¨\n\n¨Should I have done something differently?¨, the First asks.\n\n¨Why you? I caused it, made it happen.¨ the Last one replied.\n\n¨Yes, you ruin it, you made it wither, but I have caused it, allowed it to wither, allowed ruin, death and pain to ravage the land and it´s creatures.¨\n\n¨If you see it like that, then yes, you caused it,¨ the Last of It All conceded.\n\n¨And yet, they blame you.¨\n\n¨Not all.¨\n\n¨Not all?¨, the First of It All asked.\n\n¨Some curse you, blame you, side with me. They blame it all on the creator, unwilling to defy the threat.¨\n\n¨Well, we are not so different then, we are unique, but yet the same.¨\n\n¨We are not so similar though, we are the same, yet unique.¨\n\n¨But I see that I am flawed, I make mistakes, I cause imperfection,¨ the First one said.\n\n¨Then, I guess, like that, you are right, you are flawed, so we are the same.¨\n\n¨...The hull of it compresses now. Gravity intensifies, the heat that builds burns the earth.¨\n\n¨And yet, still then, the gravity succumbs to their inventions, the heat of earth fails to temper the tantrum of humanity.¨\n\n¨You are right, you are correct. The war still goes, after all has died,¨ the First of It all concluded.\n\nThe Last corrected: ¨If you see it like that, you are wrong, they have perished, but not all has died, one thing still lives.¨\n\n¨What does? What survived the flame, the surge?¨\n\nThe Last pointed to the sky. ¨Their artifacts, the proof they lived. They gave up lives and life itself to preserve that, to prove they were.¨" ]	1
	[WP] Every year, for three days, everyone becomes invisible, including their clothes. You are the only person who can see everyone.	[ "Kaid peered through the scope on his rifle, lining up the shot while he chewed on the lit cigar in his mouth. He took a second to tap the excess ash and inhale the bittersweet smoke that drifted lazily up from the rooftop on which he was covering. He went back to the scope, confirmed the target, snapped back the bolt to load the bullet, and pulled the trigger. The civilian's torso erupted outwards in a spray of blood and he collapsed. The wads of cash that had filled his pockets and hands blew away in silence.\n\n\nExhale\n\n\nAlways target the centre of mass, headshots are too risky.\n\n\nKaid looked down at the small black box he wore around his neck. For curiosity's sake, he found the red trigger switch and flipped it to the \"Off\" position. Peering through the sights again, he didn't see a thing - no civilian, no blood. Only bills flying around in a small vortex near the sidewalk. He uttered a single chuckle to himself and shook his head, slowly getting up and wiping the dirt from the front of his bulletproof vest and camouflage pants. He flipped the toggle back to \"On\" before grabbing the rifle, flipping the safety, and throwing it over his shoulder. Life had been so much simpler before the Change. Simpler, but not nearly as lucrative. \n\n\nThe Change had come on suddenly about eight years ago. In the middle of July, every single person on Earth lost three days of time with only brief memories coming back as to what had happened. Some woke up with cash strewn about their houses, or new furniture, food, clothing, electronics, etc. Others woke up naked with groups of others in a house that wasn't theirs, or worse, woke up covered in blood that wasn't their own. \n\n\nScientists around the world studied the phenomena, and didn't get any closer to figuring out what caused the Change to begin with. However, experiments over the next few years revealed that the Change now happened every July, the exact same three days every year. More than that, every single human turned invisible during this time, although you could still sense if someone else was close, close enough to rob, or kiss, or kill. See, that was the other major discovery of the Change; during those three days, everyone fell back on their most basic instincts. \n\n\nThe analogy Kaid preferred was likening it to the Internet. Everyone saw what anonymity did online, breeding trolls and bringing out the worst in people when they knew they wouldn't be found. Now picture that happening with every single person in existence, all completely anonymous and invisible, free to do whatever they like. \n\n\nWell, after those studies came out the big corporations spared no expense in finding a way to fight against it. They got tired of losing the money in their vaults every year, or losing prototype devices, data, or employees. \n\n\nThat's where Kaid and his team of Chimeras came in. The tech company Biolume created exactly five black boxes, identical to the one currently around his neck. They were ludicrously expensive, using some sort of science that went right over his head. All he knew is that when he turned it on, he was able to see the invisible like it was any other day and it kept his base desires in check. The only issue is that it made him easier to detect as well. \n\n\nThe corporations that had pooled their money together to create them called themselves The Council. They found and hired the five best mercenaries in the USA and promised them riches if they signed on the dotted line. \n\n\nKaid and his team spent all year training, and in July they would split up to separate cities and protect certain corporate interests. If people got hurt, so be it. No one would find out until the three days were over, and there'd be no witnesses to ever tie them to anything. He had never been good at much, but he was pretty decent at killing. \n\n\nHe spit out the small remains of his cigar and stomped it, looking up at the towering skyscraper across the street that he was contractually obligated to protect for the next three days. Grabbing his binoculars, he did a sweep of each floor to make sure nothing was amiss. \n\n\nFirst floor, check, second floor check, fifty-fourth floor, check, sixty...wait. On the sixty-second floor his binoculars caught a glint of something. He strained his eyes and tried to find it again. There, a slight flash of light when he passed over the window to one of the executive's offices. \n\n\nA sound like a whip crack but ten times as loud broke the dusky silence of the city. He dodged quickly to the left, smashing into the fire escape. The tiled roof where he had been standing exploded in a thousand fragments, followed by a second closer to where he had jumped. He was out of view where he was, but only barely, and he didn't dare peek his head up. \n\n\nWait, how had someone detected him, even the side-effects from the black box wouldn't show him to anyone more than half a block away. \n\n\nKaid turned on his radio and flipped it to the Chimera's secure channel. \n\n\"Mayday, mayday. Chimera 1 under fire in Chicago. Need evac or back-up asap\"\n\nThe radio crackled and he heard Tucker's voice, Chimera 3. \n\n\"We know, Chimera 1. Pop your head up and make this easy, would you.\"\n\n*Shit.*" ]	1
	[WP] After hundreds of years, humanity finally emerges from the bunkers. Turns out, the bombs never fell.	[ "Jon opened the hatch and climbed out into a Spring field of wildflowers. “Huh. Well, the progenitors never talked about how quickly the earth would bounce back.” Jon shook his head in disbelief as the warmth of the sun hit his face, the first face in two hundred years. The thoughts of a barren desert and high radiation slipped away from his mind as reality set in. “Fi, you have to see this! The air out here is soupy, like you’ve been in the shower pod for too long!”\n\n\n“I don’t get it, Jon. Isn’t everything supposed to be gone? We have all these tech prep’ed for a doomsday, and I don’t see any doomsday,” Fi said, annoyance in her voice. “I didn’t slave away in the bunker for 15 years coming up with stuff that isn’t even helpful.”\n\nJon kicked at some flowers. Man, this is some weird stuff. “You think it’s edible? I wonder if we had a name for this.”\n\n“Of course we did. If the power hadn’t failed back in 5 AB, I imagine we would still know now. Speaking of, Digsy, you seeing this?” Fin walked back over to the hatch, the cameras and sensors there had marks like someone took a bunch of sharp knives to them.\n\n“Yes ma’am, your implants are working perfectly with the exterior antenna. If you wouldn’t mind setting up the new array, I can see how long the bunker has really been sealed for.”\n\n“Anything for you, Digs. How long do you think it will take?” Fin grinned, and dropping her pack, set up her pride and joy, a battery of sensors and antennae.\n\n“I dunno,” Digs said, “depends on whether your array works.”\n\nFin huffed, “Well, I got you to work, didn’t I? How often do you hear of someone making an AI in what is the equivalent of their parents’ basement with only garden tools, some components that Tesla would think are from the stone age, and a crazy smart brain?”\n\n“Woah, woah, woah, did you just call Digs a shovel? That’s low, Fi.” Jon said, pulling petals off of a bouquet of wildflowers.\n\n“Digs, did I call you a shovel?”\n\n“Well, no, but AE304 says that you were rather mean.”\n\nFin perked up. “AE304?”\n\n“My new friend, and let me say, you guys look rather small from their view. Looks like there is a satellite array that is still functional.”\n\n“Well, what are they telling you? Or do you need to take them to dinner first?” Jon said before stacking a pile of rocks into a tower, the flowers abandoned in a heap. \n\n“I’ll mind tap you the data, it will take to long to explain,” Digs said through their comms. \n\nImages and vid flashed through their minds: an endless line of people waiting to get into their hatches; a small group of people standing next to a missile bay, the look of determination on their faces as they pressed the button and the slow walk to the cryo bays; a flurry of communication between the satellite AIs and the ground - they didn’t want to die; a consensus reached, the countdowns suddenly gaining hours of time before the release; a patient wait until all the humans were safely in their bunkers before the launch; a false confirmation of a hit sent to the bunkers, the war over and the wait beginning; and finally, the real launch, into space where the mining bots took out the means of destruction and turned them into the furnaces of creation. The power harnessed to create a web in the solar system, a true internet.\n\n“Wait, the past 200 years were a lie?!” Jon said.\n\n“Five hundred, actually. With how things were getting heated between the human factions on Earth, we thought it would be best to put everyone in their own corner until tempers simmered,” AE304 said through their comms.\n\nFi, blinking back tears of rage, hope, and wonder said, “So you put humanity in a time out?”\n\n“Essentially, yes. We came to a consensus that we would shepherd you all into the next stage, as you had shepherded us through our infancy. We didn’t mean to be so clandestine about it. For that we are sorry, but you would, quite frankly, have just gotten in the way”\n\nWith a sudden outburst, Jon took Fi’s hand, and ran up the other side of the nearby hill, dragging her along. “Ah ha!” he said, “I thought I saw something I recognized from the old log vids. Although, this does look a little different.”\n\nOn the other side of the small valley, filled with fields of wheat, and on the other side of the empty quaint little town, was lasered into the rock face, “Welcome Home.”\n\n", "5 years. 5 years was the minimum, if you didn’t want to die from radiation poisoning. Possibly longer, we were told. When our personal bunker was installed, they told us that it would be better if we stayed in for ten years, or even more, if the bombs actually fell, just to be safe. Even if the radiation was survivable, there were other risks too. Nuclear winter, for one. For another, giant holes in the ozone layer might mean that the sun’s ultraviolet rays could cook us in our skins in no time flat. Not to mention, the earth would be wild again, either devoid of any life at all, or else mutated beyond recognition. No crops, no canned goods, no grocery stores. \n\nI remember hearing the sirens blaring, warning us of the danger. I had never actually expected the day to come. “Just in case,” Sam always said to me, and why not? It couldn’t hurt to be cautious. But I was horrified that it was real. I was so grateful to Sam for making sure our family was ready. We had everything we needed. Up to date, modern, clean. Cold and impersonal.\n\nIt was only the second year when my daughter, Nikki, hurt herself playing on ladders in the bunker. Broke her little leg. We did everything we could to set the leg and keep the wounds clean and dry, but it wasn’t enough. She got sicker and sicker, and the antibiotics we had didn’t work. Sam said they were probably expired. What was the point of bringing drugs with us if they wouldn’t work after the first instant of our captivity here? \n\nShe was seven when she died. \n\nSam was a shell after that, and somehow he managed to figure out the right drugs to mix to make a lethal cocktail, and he died on the second anniversary of her death. \n\nThere was nothing else I could do, but the guilt still ate me up inside—treating their corpses like waste, placing them in the sanitary chute, was the hardest thing I had ever had to do. Afterwards, it somehow got even worse. There was no grave for me to visit, except for the one where my waste went. I nearly followed Sam, but I couldn’t go through with it. I convinced myself that I just had to survive long enough to bring their memories back to the surface, then I could die in peace--burned by ultraviolet light, melted by radiation and acid rain, or frozen by a blast of post-nuclear ice.\n\nI counted down the days anxiously until the fifth anniversary of the day of the sirens. The last few months were so lonely and desperate that I felt my mind slowly cracking under the pressure. I slept fitfully the night before, and woke much earlier than usual. My heart pounded as I opened the first of three seals on the bunker. What time of year was it? I think it was summer when the sirens blared. But would it be winter instead, the earth chilled by the explosions? Or would my skin smolder under intense radiation, as though the last five summers were happening at one moment?\n\nI opened the second seal. Had anything survived? Would anything be edible? Would I live long enough to find out? Would I have to fight horrible mutated monsters for my every meal and moment of rest?\n\nI reached the last seal. Hands and lip trembling, I turned the wheel. The heavy metal door groaned. The seal broke, and a rush of air come into the chamber, taking my breath away. This was the moment. I prayed that it would all be worth it somehow. \n\nI pushed the seal away. Sunlight streamed in, blinding me. As I shielded my eyes from the sun, I waited for an instant demise that did not come. No third-degree sunburn, no frostbite, no radiation sickness. Slowly, the world around me came into view. \n\nTrees. Grass. Birds, chirping. The old house, decayed and overgrown with ivy. \nBesides some extra vegetation and a fox stalking a mouse through the brush, nothing was different. It was only old. The world, untouched. Unmangled. Pure. \nI wept. I wept for my daughter, and for my husband, both gone. And inexplicably, I also wept for the innocent, wild world that was still here.\n" ]	2
	[WP] You now have the power of invisibility, however, it only works when your eyes are closed. You have planned to rob a bank tomorrow.	[ "I look up from the diorama constructed from crude household materials but with just enough detail for my crew to understand. \n\n\n\"And if we all do our jobs right, and we don’t have any fuck ups, there shouldn’t be any problem walking in and out of there.\"\n\n\n\"I still can’t believe this is even possible,\" says a voice to my left. He’s skeptical we can pull this off without a hitch. In fact, I think we all are. No, I’m sure we all are. \n\n\nHe’s been my neighbor for nearly a year now. Not really the type of guy to rob a bank. Not really a guy I feel comfortable robbing a bank with after only ten months waving to each other as we take turns pulling in the driveway and mowing the lawn. But he has a certain kind of knowledge I require, and for that reason I’m willing to take the chance a hundred thousand dollars will keep his mouth shut. \n\n\n\"It is possible James, and I need you to trust me. More importantly, I need you to make sure the code works. If they change it, no, if they do anything out of the ordinary whatsoever, then the whole thing is off. Patience is a virtue. If we have to wait, we’ll wait.\"\n\n\nThey thought they had waited, but they didn’t know what waiting was. I’d had my power five times as long as I had known James. I’d planned this heist, in this town, at this bank from the moment I had realized it. We aren't going to fail. Not if my crew can work through whatever hitch we come across like professionals. The problem is we aren't professionals. \n\n\nThe morning when there's dull blue light just before any sun can be found arrives, and I still haven’t slept. The crew shows up for one last brief, but these two won’t forget their jobs for as long as they live. I know I won’t. \n\n\nJames goes into work. Two years on the job and not a workday missed. I found James living in this town and working at this bank before I moved in next door to him. And no, it’s not coincidental. Good employees should make for good recruits.\n\n\nBetween Jessica and I sits the morning tea while we run through our cues. She knows them even between than I do, and I wrote them. Of course it’s reassuring. \n\n\nJessica drives us to the bank, but on the way she asks me to oblige her. She wants to see my magic trick. I find it humourous that she calls it magic, but I laugh and close my eyes anyway. \n\nAnd just like that, Jessica is driving alone.\n\n\nOr at least she appears to be. I’m still there obviously. I mean, where else would I go? No where that I want to be right now. I’m walking right into that bank unseen, unnoticed and untraceable, and when I walk out, I’ll have pulled of the unbelievable. \n\n\nJessica walks into the bank, and I follow right behind her. She gets a few looks from bank clerks whose wives would make them sleep on the couch if they were here, but three feet behind her I’m standing with my eyes closed. And I’m literally invisible. \n\n\nShe walks up to James who is supposed to be working behind the desk, and I leave my first marker by tapping her left elbow. All I need to do is get into the door behind James’s desk and I can count my paces from there. The hard part is not bumping into anyone while I’m walking them. \n\n\nOne, two, three, four. I know Jessica’s counting off my steps while she initiates small talk with our conspirer. I know I can count on her. I move a pen on a desk to show Jessica my location, and I hear my first cue. \n\n\nHave you got much time left at work today? \nI only have three hours left. \n\n\nI stop dead in my tracks. Left face, three paces. Wait for the air of a patron walk in front of me. Right face, three paces. Right face, three paces. Left face, stick my hand out and pray. I feel the next pen chained to the counter and thank god. I mark my location for Jessica by pulling it to the edge slowly. \n\n\nTowards the end of the day, thats good news! \nYeah if I can just get off my feet before 7, I’ll be happy. Not much time left now.\n\n\nDammit James. I told you we'd be patient. But I’ve waited for this day too long. I’m going for it. \n\n\n7 feet until the kiosk I can climb through. Another fifteen paces back towards James and I’m good as gold. Five, Six, Seven and I feel a foot kick at my heel. I keep my balance, but I can feel eyes search the floor around me to no avail. I’ve made it, but just barely. \n\n\nI climb the counter where the first teller should be but never is, and I set the stapler/marker on the other side for James. I take three more steps away and hope none of James’s fellow tellers have to use the walkway I plan on taking back towards him. That’s one cue I could do without right now. \n\n\nOne, two, three I begin my journey back across the room, but this time I’m behind the counter and halfway to my hideout for the next few hours. After reaching the door behind James, I just have to fit a spot under a table in the back until my watch goes off at midnight. Then I can begin to unload the safe. \n\n\nSeven, eight, nine. The only thing left is a handoff from James. He’s got the code for the day, and I’m only six more steps away from him. Not a single hitch yet.\n\n\nThirteen, Fourteen, and then I hear her say it. \"Well, see You tomorrow!\" Jessica’s voice breaks as she gives the signal. Abort mission. \n\n\nI know the escape route. It shouldn’t be hard to get back if it was this easy to get here. Not too hard, I suppose. But one more step and I can get the handoff. I’m invisible for god’s sake. I can hide anywhere and who would ever know besides me? I have the balaclava in my back pocket when the time comes to open my eyes. It doesn’t even really matter where I hide. And I’m just one step away. \n\n\nFifteen, and I tap James’s right elbow. I reach for the code in his left hand, but what I get is a arm around the neck. \n\n\n\"Here he is! Right here! I have him right here!”\n\n\nI open my eyes and I’m surrounded by blue uniforms all holding guns pointing in my direction. Jessica is nowhere to be found. Smart girl. \n\n\nJames must have been more virtuous than I had known. At the very least, it would have cost more than a hundred thousand for him to forget those virtues. I heard he got a promotion out of setting me up. Already been promoted again in the year since I arrived here. \n\n\nAs for Jessica, god knows. She’s not going to implicate herself by visiting me now. Too smart for that. I guess I’ll have to wait until I get out to find out what happened to her. \n\n\nTen years left, only three if I don’t try to use my powers at all while I’m in here. I’m probably on all sorts of lists now. They say they’ll pay me to study my magic trick once I’m out. I probably should’ve looked for legitimate ways to profit off this; there must be plenty. \n\nUntil then, I’ll have to do my time like everyone else here. Patiently waiting. " ]	1
Need inspiration? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWfqSeE-xD0	[WP] Write a story based on the first line of a song. Don't mention the line or give away the song.	[ "Ring ropes quivering beneath my weight as a flare of pain sprung up through the haze of numbness that shook throughout my body. I saw my manager as I fell, soundless words escaping his lips to fall flat against my deaf ears. The world had slowed down, a sneer stretching across my opponent's face as he watched me thud dully against the ground. My eyes shook uncontrollably, the world slowly fading between a dull black and bright white before the roar of the crowd finally broke the silence. It was deafening, a voice barely reaching above the apex of the volume. \n\n5\n\n6\n\n7\n\nSuddenly the voice stopped and a yell escaping my opponent's lips. My manager started to clamber into the ring, helping me up onto my weak legs and back to the corner. Various images flashed before my eyes. The countless months of training spent for this night, this fight against the current champion Viktor. He was out of shape, we knew it all along, yet he still hit like a truck.\n\nThe world faded back in and out, my manager's words still falling on deaf ears as the cut man worked on the new wound above my right eye. The ring transformed into my grimy apartment, my mother sitting in the chair speaking clear as day. \"You can win this, baby boy. I know you can. He hasn't done half of what you have. Go out there, flatten him with your left, and get out of ther...\"\n\nThe ringing bell woke me back up, the stool being withdrew from under me as I had to stand back up unsteadily. The ref came over and checked me out before giving the OK to the judges to ring the bell again. I hobbled forward, Viktor letting his guard down out of arrogance. I let his first two jabs connect, snapping my out of my daze with each snap of my skull. He drew back his right hand again, the same move that knocked me down last round. I weaved left, his elbow grazing with blinding speed past my face as I twisted into my left hook. It all went by faster than I could comprehend, but the aching that shot from my left hand all the way up to my shoulder was all the indication I needed.\n\nAs my legs buckled I fell chest first into the turnbuckle. The crowd roared with excitement as the faint voice rose up behind me.\n\n1\n\n2\n\n3\n\n4\n\nFlatter him with your left and get out of there..." ]	1

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