prompt stringlengths 20 5.8k | chosen_story stringlengths 226 10k | rejected_story stringlengths 227 9.43k | chosen_timestamp timestamp[ns]date 2012-07-26 17:01:55 2022-12-31 14:34:19 | rejected_timestamp timestamp[ns]date 2012-07-26 14:23:36 2022-12-31 12:20:41 | chosen_upvotes int64 14 23.1k | rejected_upvotes int64 10 4.26k |
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[WP] Humans develop superpowers but, for every gifted person, someone will get an exactly opposite power. You are the opposite of The Invisible Man. | "It's like your nose."
"What?"
"It's like your nose."
"I don't, I don't understand."
It's interesting, sometimes, to wave your hand before a face to no response; though they still blink when the air brushes past. My favorite question is always "what makes you different from the invisible man?".
"So how are you the opposite of the invisible man?" *There it is.*
I pulled my lips in and forced air through, she blinked. "Because you can see me, you can always see me."
"What? No I can't, I can hear you but you're, well, not anywhere." She turned about looking around the room.
"Okay, look here." I grabbed her shoulders and turned her toward me. "See anything?"
"Well I see a door, a table, some plants..."
"Okay now, close one eye and look at your nose."
"Okay." She questioned me but followed through. I placed my finger on the side of her nose. "Oh my God! I can see your finger!" She pulled back and looked around again.
"You can never see the invisible man, his power removes him from sight. It's called forced blindness, his power forces your brain to register him as non-existent, your sight detracts from him. Like that thing you swear you see but no matter how hard you look you can't find it."
"But I can't see you either."
"Close one eye again, I'm going to blow air try and look right at it." She closed one eye and moved toward the pushing air. She smiled, she smiled, she could see me. Her eye slowly became red and she blinked looking away.
"Sorry-" She pouted.
"You gotta blink sometime." I reassured her.
"I could see you, I saw your face."
"I call it involuntary blindness like-"
"It's like your nose!" She blurted out.
"Yeah." I laughed. "Your brain filters out unnecessary information, you always see parts of your nose, but you don't need to, so it doesn't show you. So my power is like your nose, your brain filters me out because I'm not necessary information. If you move your finger in front of your eye you see double, because you vision corrects it. Your vision is correcting to not see me, which is why you can see me if you close one eye and focus on seeing me."
She frowned. "Okay, but how does it make you different... I mean I get how your his opposite, I can't see him because my vision can't register him but it always registers you. But, your both still kinda the 'invisible man'." She air quoted around invisible man.
"Because you can see me, for a while." She closed one eye and looked around. I couldn't help but smile as I grabbed her chin and moved her face to me. "Strangers and others who've never see me, I stand out, they see me before anything else. They're eyes are drawn to me, but the more they see me the more I fade, until eventually, like for you, I disappear."
Her eye centered and I smiled again as her pupil expanded. "Hi." She giggled.
"Hi."
_
r/TheoreticalFictions | Amelia Duvray slunk into the Escalade's leather passenger seat and sighed. She was exhausted. The windows of the SUV were tinted well past the legally permissible level, but she could easily pay the fine. She removed her saucer-like sunglasses and pulled off the hood of her sweatshirt. Her driver honked the horn a few times in quick succession and the crowd backed away. A bodyguard tapped on the driver's door and the car pulled out.
Amelia had come to expect these episodes, but she could never get used to them. All her life, she attracted attention. She never believed she was "classically beautiful"; her proportions were correct, though not exaggerated in the manner of some Neos. In her mind, she was perfectly unremarkable. But when she walked in a room, no eye could look away.
Homeschooling had been a necessity. As a result, her childhood was lonely and all too brief. It was difficult for Amelia to make friends in real life. Face-to-face conversations were always stilted. Her only real friends were on internet message boards. There, she could be blissfully anonymous, and prattle with aliases without the wall of her strange charisma.
She tried to get fat once. Gallons of ice cream, the greasiest fast food, for a month she gorged until she made herself sick. Still, her weight remained ideal. Her complexion, flawless. In time, Amelia realized her only choice was whether to remain shackled by her power, or to capitalize on it.
She was not a terrible actress - the isolation of her childhood had fostered a strong imagination - but her lack of social experience made her a difficult scene partner. Nevertheless, she quickly earned a reputation for profitability. If she was in a film trailer, people would line up to see the film. Studio heads practically threw money at her. Plots became all but irrelevant. Success built on success, and by the age of 24, she was one of the most famous people in the world.
The Escalade pushed through the crowd of people who had followed her from the coffeeshop. Amelia took a sip of her drink and tried to push the day's events from her head. She caught the glance of her driver in the rearview mirror. She looked away. He didn't. | 2018-03-26T11:34:30 | 2018-03-26T09:54:18 | 58 | 20 |
[WP] One morning everyone in the world wakes up in their 18-year old body, memories intact. Society tries to continue as normal despite the change, but a world full of energetic adolescents certainly has its quirks. | I didn't miss the overwhelming hum of the fluorescent lights in Dr. Marshall's office. It had been almost three years since the last time we had our last meeting.
It was odd to see her now, her hair was void of the grays that would eventually come into their roots. Her glasses sat on the table, she wouldn't need those for another 8 or 9 years, at least that's what she told me she had guessed when I asked earlier. She looked well, three decades of medical work and research hadn't shaped faint lines and creases in her skin yet. I imagine she had taken the change happily.
"Jonathan, unfortunately, we really won't know anything until we get the results back. But if I'm being honest with you, it's not looking good. Since the change, I've seen amputees who woke up with their missing limbs back, elderly patients without their knee replacements gone, the tattoo I got when I turned 22 vanished off my skin. I really don't know what to say," I could tell by the look on her face she was looking for something to say, "but it's a good thing you came in, if the tumor is there now we can remove it before it grows. And if it isn't then we can monitor the area where it formed last time and go from there."
If I was truly 18 again, it would be another year and a half or so before the migraines would start. I wish I could have woken up after the change with the body of a happy teenager, but instead my thoughts raced with memories of hearing Dr. Marshall tell me of my diagnosis. with memories of nights where I was so sick and weak I wanted to give in to everything and let go, with memories of having to learn to walk again.
I tried to give Dr. Marshall a valid response of a hopeful smile as the fluorescent lights hummed, but I couldn't. | I woke up. It was any other day. But I had a certain pep in my step. Something that couldn’t quite be described. I went over to my closet to get ready for work.
They were back
I tried to convince myself that all of this. It was just a dream. A twist on that nightmare I had so many times before. I swiftly ran out of my room Into my bathroom downstairs. Pure panic overtook me but it all subsided when I finally got to the mirror. Part of me wanted to look away but my eyes were dead locked on this person in the mirror staring back at me. This person is not who I am. This thing in the mirror is not me. I tried to make sense of it all but I couldn’t. I grabbed my phone of if the kitchen counter that I forgot the night before. Still half dressed I skimmed my text messages.
At that moment I realized that this wasn’t a nightmare. I put it my phone down and the same word kept repeating in my head
“She” | 2020-11-02T11:00:41 | 2020-11-02T10:14:02 | 62 | 30 |
[WP] A seemingly bottomless pit was found, for which the depth can't be determined. Over time, scores of people began using it to illegally dump trash. Many have jumped in to die, while others jumped believing that they'll find life's answers within it. Today, we learn the truth about the hole. | "Aye, you've heard about the devil's asshole right?"
It was more of a rhetorical question. At this point, everybody had.
A few years back, Bridgeport Connecticut experienced a minor tremor from a minor earthquake. No one thought much of it at the time, save for Mr. Hoolihan whose backyard now sported a three foot wide hole.
A carpenter by trade, Mr. Hoolihan was a real "do it yourself" kind of guy. He went out to his backyard to measure the hole that had appeared. Even with his arm fully outstretched, the yardstick he brought wouldn't even touch the bottom. He tossed a rock into the chasm but no sound echoed back.
What's interesting is that the story almost ended there. After trying to fill the hole in and bringing several landscaping teams in to inspect it, they guessed that it was some old mine shaft. They put a few two by fours over it and that was meant to be that.
Mr. Hoolihan couldn't stand it though. Something about that hole being there really gnawed at him, and when his wife was asleep, he'd go out into the backyard, move the boards, and shovel dirt in, hoping to hear it hit the bottom.
This continued for about a year, until one night when Mr. Hoolihan used an excavator his neighbor had rented to fix the landscaping damages from the quake. People aren't sure exactly what happened, but at around three, Hoolihan, the excavator, his house, and his still sleeping wife, all plummeted into the hole after it opened up to swallow his property.
After that, the site was known as "Hoolihan's hole" or the "hell hole" and most sensible folks avoided it. Those who weren't sensible saw an opportunity.
Dumping of all sorts began to enter the chasm, as shady corporations, the mafia and people too stingy to buy a permit poured waste, trash, dead bodies, and, at one point, an truck full of millions of dollars after a failed bank heist.
After that last one, the police caught on and set up a perimeter around the hole as scientists were brought in to answer questions.
"Where does the hole end?"
"Does it even end at all?"
Now if people had been paying attention to local Chinese news, they would have seen the headline: "American man and wife emerge from mysterious hole outside
Shennongjia."
| I remember reading a beautiful short story with this exact same premise in China three years ago. In gross oversimplification, I’ll paraphrase it best I can in English.
A mysterious, cavernous hole was discovered one day in a small rural town. Curious as to what could be inside, a lone boy threw a small pebble into its depths.
Nothing.
The villagers began to gather around, inquiring as to what exactly it was. This eventually came to the attention of the government, which after extensive testing, determined it must be an infinitely cavernous hole, making worldwide news. This was, of course, a great delight to mankind, as it seemed the ultimate solution to the world’s trash problem. Scientists dumped their radioactive waste. Governments all over the globe mysteriously rid themselves of their shady files. Young twenty-somethings threw their old journals and memorabilia from their ex friends and ex partners into the pit. Divorcees threw their rings away forever in a dramatic show of symbolism. It became a world-renowned tourist attraction, drawing in titanic crowds. Rallying around this pit, the world has a means to double down on their efforts against pollution, and the world seemed idyllic.
And in this fashion, the world functioned for several years. Never once did the pit appear to have any intention of filling up.
Then, one day, that first boy who had discovered the pit felt a heavy presence in the air. He looked up.
There was a pebble falling from the sky.
I know my storytelling skills are horrible, but that’s all I seem to recall of it. | 2022-06-02T19:21:41 | 2018-01-13T09:07:42 | 4,551 | 12 |
[WP] Seven demons (sins) come to tempt you, but you're so down on your luck that they feel bad for you... Greed teaches you financing, Sloth provides stress relief, Envy motivates you to be more competitive and therefore successful, Wrath gets you involved in activism, etc. | "I mean, what's the point of life, really? Why do we exist? We're born without any say in it, then told that we can achieve our dreams while getting bullied, told to conform to society and it's rules and if you don't you get crucified for it, and while that's happening we're trying to find someone to love, a soulmate a.k.a. a partner to endure this existential terror with. So pretty much around 25 you figure out life is all about suffering!" Randall sighs in his ragged pink robe and drops his forehead onto the kitchen table. "...And then you die."
All the 7 sins glance at each other with a concerned, yikes look. Wrath gives them a cue for a team huddle. He removes his viking helmet and his skinless face frowns. "I do not feel to foment fury in this soul. He seems tormented enough by his own dogma." Sloth, a giant cuddly sloth, sits down on the ground and whimpers. Greed, a small black widow spider, massages Sloth's head with her 8 limbs.
"The day Wrath had a caring tumor in his body, tahaha, what a day this is" says Pride, a well-groomed purple peacock in a purple victorian vest. He spreads his feathers and hand fan and cools himself. Wrath didn't like that comment and puff his chest out. His armor clacking with the movement. Envy, a serpent woman in a green robe, puts a hand on Wrath's shoulder. She rolls her yellow eyes as in, *don't take the bait*. " I understand you, Wrath. Sssomething about this mortal painsss me, also" Randall sighs deeply in the background. He's muttering "why" to himself.
"I've lost my libido just listening to him" says Lust, a well-endow vixen in a low-cut black dress. "I wonder if his mentality would even allow him to get hard at the sight of Medusa...This would be a great challenge to accept....-Gluttony! Out of the icebox!" Gluttony, a naked man of only skin and bones shuts the refrigerator closed. His stomach growls in a vibrating tremor. He moans and holds his mid-section. He points to his mouth and groans.
"Here, you can have my breakfast. I'm not hungry." Randall holds his plate out to Gluttony. Two soft yolky eggs, toasty brown wheat bread with butter, two brown juicy sausage links and a side of crispy bacon with well-cooked fat on it's ends. Gluttony lets out a delighted noise and takes the plate. As he digs in, Randall with slumped shoulders walks out of the room. Pride pouts at the misery Randall leaves behind. He looks down at the munching Gluttony."Ugh, you could have at least bowed a thank you, Gluttony." Gluttony slows down his eating in embarrassment.
**BEDROOM**
Randall lies in bed looking at a blank white wall. His eyes lower and glisten. His lips quiver and he inhales quickly. He lets out a small sob- KNOCK KNOCK. He startles and clears his voice. He sighs and lets out a low... *yeah.* The door opens and in quietly enter the 7 sins. They all look at each other to see who's going to say something first. Wrath lets out some umm's and uhh's but doesn't know where to start. Sloth starts to crawl into bed but everyone holds him back and waves no to the idea. "Will we not get him out of bed if you get in there" says Lust. Randall pulls the covers over himself and gets in fetal. He sighs and continues looking at the wall when-
"This world belongs to you, Randall." Greed the black widow crawls onto his head, into his shaggy hair. "You owe it to yourself to take it. Take it all. Everything you ever wanted is at your fingertips. You just have to go and seize it." Randall lets out a small chuckle. "Oh yeah? You sound like every guidance counselor from high school. They didn't give a shit and they we're getting paid for it. You just want to torment my soul."
"I wish I could torment your soul, Randall.....but it seems like you've lost it a while back" Greed hops on the wall in front of him. She begins to spin a web. "And well you're not worthy to torment, honestly. You've already done a bang up job on yourself." Randall get up from his bed in angry fashion. "Hey, I don't come into your house and-" On the wall is a huge web with the words GAME PLAN over it. "So we're gonna get you that soul back, Randall!" | "Uhmm so you are the 29 year old virgin, I guess Tonight's your night" whisper The Seductress in my ears. Offer sounded tempting but I never had any good luck in my life and knowing what ussually happens I remarked as I took a drink from my martini in my driest voice "Sorry to burst your bubble but I don't have that sor of cash." Lady took and sluttishly ate the olive and sang in a somewhat comforting way "Let's just say you have some nice friends"
I couldn't help but laugh at her. Like hell an egoistical narcissist like me could have friends. Not that I didn't try or anything but being a friend was way above my paycheck so I hastily finished my drink and got up and said "Thanks for the good laugh but I guess you would have to find another target today. Better luck next time lady"
Lust was enraged no one ever denied her of what she wanted but being the demon she was. Her new plan of making my life living hell wouldn't sadly work. I didn't have a girlfriend who would cheat or make me feel smaller than I already was Neither parents nor any close friends. So I think she took pity on me for leading the life she thought would be hell for any other normal person.
That Lady in Pub was gorgeous I shouldn't have talked to her that way, I thought as my eyes were on brink of sleep in front of Netflix again. I think Pickle Rick episode was going on when I felt other people in my apartment. I thought today was the day my wish would come true and it would finally be over but It was the lady again gently nibbling on my ear. I jumped Not that I was scared but I still didn't like her very much. But my jump landed me in arms of a large chubby dude. He was the closest thing to ice bear one could imagine. As soon as I looked around my apartment I realized my apartment was no longer empty I consisted of 7 other life form. Each different from other but everyone equally amused at me.
I didn't scream but calmly walked out of his arms (Damn was that dude comforting) and coughed as if they were waiting for me to speak but My voice was interrupted by what I can only call an Roar of a voice and he spoke"Lust I think your assessment was underestimating how terrible of life this miscreant is leading If I was you I would have ended him on the spot but sadly you chose to tempt him. Disgusting!!''
"Ok dude no need to get all judgemental on my lifestyle. If you want to kill me make it fast and if you are here to rob me, I am sad for you bruh'' I said in my deepest voice. Dude Facepalmed him and said"Okay He shall be the first Candidate for our redemption program" and He continued on for a while as He introduced everyone you know yabadabada
He was wrath, Skinny dude was envy, comfy dude was sloth, Lady was lust, Monopoly man was greed, Pride was some sort of korean Prodigy and gluttony was the chef that emptied my kitchen. And they wanted to help so I do either bad things or good things and wanted to teach me about their fortes.
Wrath spoke a great deal about how he caused great wars and every single one of them began from within He gave example of some Spartacus guy but shuddered at politics of nowadays activists.
Envy spoke how he influenced some great thieves of all time but was really confused with Money Heist
Lust gave me some private sessions I would rather not talk about.
Pride tried to teach me about how he gifted great talents like Michaelangelo and piccaso.(funnily they all died alone)
Greed gave me example of great mafias and businessman who all lost in court.
Gluttony wanted me to cook my neighbor but I offered him nachos.
Comfy dude and I had the greatest nap of all time.
Funny thing it's been a month and now they all live in my apartment and Guess what They all found pickle rick to be the funniest shit ever. | 2020-04-30T07:42:04 | 2020-04-30T06:26:07 | 40 | 27 |
[WP]Killing Hitler has become a sport amongst time travelers. Points are awarded for creativity and difficulty. You are last year's champion, how did you win? | "What do you mean you didn't kill him, that's the whole point of the game!" John shouted at me, I hated it when John shouted, his voice was so grating.
"Just what I said," I spoke between sips of my soda, "I didn't kill him. I just fucked with him."
"How do you win the game off that alone?!" He questioned, his head tilted to the side like a dog hearing the sound of a tube TV turning on for the first time.
"Well, You know how he was an artist right?" I questioned, "Of course you do, everyone knows that -- I've personally got a couple of paintings up in my bathroom. Everyone seems to love his work, so you want to know what I did? I went back to 1889 -- took a job at... oh gosh, what's that school? Vienna's Academy? Yeah I think that's it... I worked under the name of Mr. Goldberg and just bide my time. I saw a couple of great artists at the time pass through, though I can't remember there names worth a damn.
Anyway, around 1914 or so, I saw this spry little prick waltz into my class. He was so full of hope and life and energy. And I just told him to fuck off. Told he he'll never ammount to anything. And that's how I won, by turning the world's greatest artist into the world worst murderer."
"Dude, you're literally worse than Hitler." | I couldn't help but dwell on the stories of my father killing Hitler using only a menorah and some olive oil, from the opposite side of town. How was I to top that? It was the only 99% on record.
I've had my whole childhood to scheme, and at 18 I figured that to get a perfect score, I'd just have to be farther away and even more creative. How? A deathly Rube Goldberg machine. It didn't have the same irony, but the tension would be glorious for the viewers.
Binoculars at the ready, I tipped over the first golden domino.
***
bored? try /r/Hermione_Grangest | 2016-02-20T09:29:08 | 2016-02-20T08:21:16 | 132 | 41 |
[WP] One day you notice you haven't seen any Hitler related writing prompts for a full hour at least.
Well... | I was confused. I settled into my old office chair, lilting to the side from years of use, to write my daily story about Hitler. The place I turned to for inspiration was the writing prompts subreddit, full of ideas to explore. What if Hitler had gotten into art school? What if Nazi Germany had invented a giant fighting robot? What if Hitler was a My Little Pony fan?
But there was something off. There were no Hitler writing prompts to be had. How could I write a speculative story about history's greatest villain? Make it up myself? That came dangerously close to work.
"Hey, Bill!" I shouted for my roommate. He appeared in my doorway, drinking a mug of coffee and wearing a Nazi officer's uniform. There were scorch marks on the right sleeve, and what looked like a bullet hole. Probably embellishments for whatever theatrics he intended to use it for.
"What's the haps, Tim?" Bill asked. I motioned to my computer screen.
"The writing prompts subreddit doesn't have any prompts about Hitler," I replied.
"Well, it shouldn't," Bill said calmly. "I just got back from a mission to 1939 to assassinate him."
"Get fucked, that's not even possible," I said. "And besides, if you killed Hitler, how come I still remember him?" Bill shrugged.
"Maybe the timeline hasn't caught up yet," he said, then took another sip of coffee. I looked back at the computer, then back at my roommate. He was wearing some strange grey suit with scorch marks and a bullet hole on the right sleeve. On the other arm, he wore a red armband. Probably embellishments for whatever theatrics he intended to use it for.
"Still worried about Hitler?" Bill asked.
"What's a hitler?" I asked. Bill smiled and took another sip of coffee. | "What the fuck?" I murmured as I refreshed the page again. "Where the shit is Hitler?"
Suddenly panicking, I opened a new tab and picked Wikipedia out of my favorites tab.
H-i-t-l-e-r.
No, his page is still here... Thank god, I guess that means the timeline hasn't changed. I had been sure that was the only reason that he wasn't featured on /r/WritingPrompts. "Wait just a God damn minute... Thank god Hitler is still real? The fuck am I saying?"
H-o-l-o-c-a-u-s-t.
Holy shitstain that's a lot of people. No way this can be allowed to stand. But how to stop him? I don't have any ideas, I'm not that creative.
"Got it! Alright Reddit, let's see what you can do..."
http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/354uwi/wp_its_may_6_2015_how_will_you_stop_hitler/ | 2015-05-06T18:46:08 | 2015-05-06T17:30:28 | 23 | 15 |
[WP] You’re washing your hands in the bathroom one day, and when you turn the faucet off, your reflection whispers “Listen very carefully to what I’m about to say.” | “Listen very carefully to what I have to say.”
*What the fuck?* “Who the hell said that?” I whirled around from the basin, scanning my bathroom for anyone. There – the shower curtain. I knew there was a reason I was scared of it. I rushed over, then threw it open.
Nothing there. Just an empty bath, a bottle of Johnson's No More Tears, and a clump of black hair in the drain. *Brett, you filthy bastard.*
I spun back around. “Who's there?”
No response, as I stood motionless. I listened for a minute, before resolving that I had imagined it. Odd. I started towards the sink, remembering the water bill.
“Over here!” I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Who the hell is in my bathroom?” The room was empty, until I looked in the mirror. My reflection wasn't there. 'I' was off in the reflected corner of the room, leaning against the wall. I turned around, looking for 'me'.
*Wha...?*
“Hey.”
“...Hello?” I turned back around, examining my reflection pacing over to the counter on what could only be assumed was the 'other side'.
“Oh, great, you can hear me. Sorry about the whispering. It's hard to get a connection sometimes, especially without the big guy hearing. We should be good now.”
“...” I had no response.
“I get it, you're confused.” My reflection threw up her hands. “I would be too. But I have some crucial truths to impart to you before the shock wears off.”
“I... I'm just going to roll with this.” I had examined all the possibilities in my head. Acid had never been like this before, nor had I taken acid. I didn't have a family history of schizophrenia, so that was out. And I was fairly sure Brett wasn't hiding in the cupboard and projecting this somehow. *Brett*. I assumed that I was lucid dreaming.
She looked surprised. “Oh, great. That's a *way* better reaction than the last guy.” She cleared her (my) throat. “If you take away anything from the long list of things I'm about to tell you, then you must realise that you're in a story. And not a very good one, at that.”
“Right.” I suddenly felt confused. Who the hell was I, actually? What was my name? I couldn't remember. “Why is this...”
“You're going to feel a little dizzy, then pass out for a second. Don't worry about it.”
The world went a little grey, then red, then black.
I woke up on the floor of the bathroom, feeling light-headed and a little hungry. I got to my feet, shaking off dregs of sleep that shouldn't have been there. I couldn't have been asleep for very long. This was a 4 bed apartment with only one bathroom.
“Oh, great. You're up.” My reflection got up in the mirror, putting away a book of Sudoku. “Faster than most, too.”
“Oh shit.” I wasn't dreaming.
“'Oh shit' indeed.” She said, clapping her hands together. “Now, listen very carefully to what I have to say because we don't have a huge amount of time. You won't hear it again.”
“...”
“Great. You've got the hang of it already.” She cleared her throat. “You are, again, inside a story. I am an officer of the interdimensional fictional crime department. The author that writes this is under investigation for degradation, murder and torture of fictional beings. That is your fate, unless you follow a very specific set of instructions that will be emailed to you. Have you ever read *Dune*?”
I shook my head.
She bit her lip. “Shit, that would have been helpful. Great book, criminal author. Serving 10 life sentences. Anyway, that's not the point.”
“What is, then?” I felt my wits begin to return to me.
“Oh, shit. We're out of time. Your author is about to get back.” She pulled a pocket watch from somewhere. “You need to draw the shower curtain back and go back to washing your hands. Now.”
For some reason, I scrambled to obey. I threw the curtain back into place, then turned on the hot tap and set to washing my hands.
In the mirror, my reflection winked.
-----
More? Not sure. /r/Robin_Redbreast | Wash hands, dry hands, turn off faucet. Easy moves, easy patterns.
"Listen very carefully to what I'm about to say, Jeeves."
My reflection just spoke to me. I look at him.
"You are not real. I know you are not real." I say.
"Listen, Jeeves! I need you to be very careful now. I saw you get the rope from the gardening store." Before I could ask, he replied. "I have my eyes everywhere."
"Stop talking, you are not real. I know you are not real." I repeat calmly. Easy words, easy patterns.
"Jeeves... I know you tried to kill yourself. This isn't the way out, trust me, Jeeves." He tries to reason.
"Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking. You are not real, I know you aren't. Reflections cannot talk." I counter. I turn on the faucet and wash my hands, trying to ignore him now.
"Jeeves! Please, I don't want you to suffer anymore, I just..." He stops.
I start, looking up, and turning the faucet off. "Then stop talking to me. And tell your friends to stop talking to me as well. You aren't real."
"I tried!" My reflection replies. "They wouldn't listen, and so I just tried to stay quiet for a while. But it got worse and worse, and I had to do something before you just ended it all... Jeeves, I don't want you to die."
"Why do you care?!" I yell. "You didn't care when I wanted to jump off the bridge, you weren't the one telling me to go see a doctor!"
Before he can reply, a voice comes from outside. "Jones? Are you okay?" My roommate asks.
"Everything's fine, everythings fine." I reply.
"Jeeves wants to kill himself!" My reflection shouts over me.
"No I don't!"
My roommate reacts with confusion. "...Jones? Is something wrong? I can get you to the doctor if you need to."
"No... It- It's just late and all, I am tired... Okay?" I plead through the door, only for my reflection to raise his voice again.
"Marcia!" He says. "Don't let him hang himself! Get him to the doctor, okay?"
My roommate, calmly asks: "Can I come in? Just for a second."
I nod, before realizing he won't see that. I open the door. He steps inside, taking a quick look at the reflection.
"Marcia! Please!" My reflection clamors out, and I laugh awkwardly.
"Okay... Nothing seems too off here. Hey, you shaved?" He asked me.
I grasp my head, and my hair is still there. "Oh, yes, I didn't want to be bothered by annoying body hair anymore, you know?"
He forces a smile, and nods. "Well, nothing out of the ordinary, I guess. But if you don't feel well..."
I shake my head. "No, everything is fine. Let me just clean my hands." I step towards the faucet, and trip. Landing flat on my feet, I groan in pain. "Ow..."
"Whoa, you are tired." My roommate comments.
"Help me get up, damn it!" I say, and grasp at his leg, but... he isn't there. The door is open, but where my roommate was, nothing remains, just a clear sight against the tiled wall of the bathroom.
I shake my head. "Ugh... Maybe I should go. The pills don't work as well as they should. Anyways, I should wash my hands first." | 2017-12-19T12:47:21 | 2017-12-19T12:24:37 | 60 | 15 |
[WP] Your pointless superpower is that you know how many people’s lives you save with your actions. One day, at a Subway, you tell the cashier you want your sandwich on Italian bread, and you’re suddenly informed that you just saved five billion people. | "I'd like a club on Italian herbs and cheese, please." Dan says.
This is his usual order. In fact, Dan comes to this Subway on his lunch break, orders the same sandwich, and return to his desk to eat every day like clockwork. Dan is a predictable kind of guy, and he doesn't mind it; and knowing that he's unintentionally saved a few people throughout his mundane routine is kind of cool.
"Of course sir," says the sandwich artist. She turns to the bread cabinet, but ends up grabbing a loaf of Italian instead.
"Whatever," thinks Dan "It's not worth mentioning. Italian is close enough."
Suddenly, Dan feels his save count skyrocket. It takes a moment for the exact number to register.
Five billion and eleven saved.
"What the fuck, how is that even possible?" he mutters under his breath.
"I'm sorry," The Subway worker looked up from the sandwich, "Is there a problem?"
"Oh, no, it's nothing. Just thinking is all. Um, could I get that sub plain? I'm in a bit of a rush."
Dan pays, and hurriedly leaves the store. His mind is a flurry of fear and nervous excitement. What could this mean? How could such a small decision, a simple sandwich order, change so many lives?"
On his walk back to work, Dan pays close attention to the world around him, looking for some sort of sign to show him how this would all come together.
Dan makes it back to his desk without incident. Somewhat disappointed, he eats his sandwich. That day, and several more pass with no obvious hint as to how Dan has saved so many people.
Three weeks later, Dan is found dead.
An autopsy reveals that Dan had a rare, deadly form of fungal infection. Fungal spores had entered his bloodstream, and after dismissing his symptoms as the flu, Dan took a day off to rest. He passed away in his sleep that night. Additional deaths and further investigation linked this fungus to the bread served at the Subway he regularly visited.
More interesting, however, were other discoveries made from Dan's autopsy. Dan's cells had an incredible capacity for autophagy. Based on his cells alone, Dan would appear to be half his actual age.
This revelation paved the way for medical progress. Degenerative disease treatment improved, and these conditions were eventually cured altogether.
The number of people that Dan saved with the cure derived from his cells was enormous.
Some might say billions.
| “The microbe has been planted, sir.”
“Good,” a voice replied. “Humanity is... grotesque. It must be expunged.”
The microbe’s function was simple. Armed with the infective capabilities of the common cold but with wireless capabilities, it could change its genetic code in an instant. It was perfectly incurable, and could become deadly upon the creator’s will. The only downside was the price; it was terribly expensive, and the creators had to get it out before the government started asking where their grant’s research was.
This mattered not to the scientist. Once the microbe was out, the government would not trouble him.
The job was simple. Put the microbe in a common place. The agent decided on an inconspicuous location; a slice of Subway flatbread. The moment someone sunk their teeth into their sandwich, the chain would begin.
As the day went on, the microbe lay dormant. It only had a few hours left before it would die.
A customer came in and walked up to the counter. “One meatball sandwich on flatbread, please.”
“Coming right up, sir!” the worker responded. The slice was grabbed as the sandwich was being made. Soon, the microbe would enter his system, infect over 5 billion, and kill them. The human race would never be the same.
“Actually, I changed my mind,” the customer said. “Can you make that on Italian, instead?”
“Of course! I’ll just throw this old one out.” | 2018-11-17T19:42:29 | 2018-11-17T19:23:42 | 166 | 38 |
[WP] Your ability to see people's age in years as an invisible number above their heads has made you the perfect bouncer. One day you see a four digit number. | "What the fuck" I thought to myself. This job was supposed to be boring, given my... powers. This wasn't supposed to happen.
See, I was a bouncer at a bar. I wasn't the most imposing person but I had a unique trait. I could tell anyone's age without seeing a license. The numbers just kind of floated above their heads. I realized I was special at a young age when I asked my fourth grade teacher, mrs. Jimenez, why the new boy was three years older than all of us. We had to have a special meeting with the counselor and my parents. It freaked them out pretty bad when I was able to tell the counselor that I knew she was seven years older than she said (looking back I think she was trying to start a relationship with one of the younger teachers). It took a couple of years to learn to not notice and just live life but I managed to find a way to use it to my advantage when I got this job.
I streamlined the front door, no wasting time carding people, usually I just stood next to Big Jake (he was a left tackle at the local college and an absolute mountain of a man) and told the underage kids to leave before they wasted our time.
Tonight was terrifying though. We expected a rough crowd once a month when we hosted fight night. It was common practice in rural Midwestern towns, usually one or two bars would set up a ring and let local fighters put on the nights entertainment. Typically fight night made us sell out of pbr and bud light, with exactly the crowd you'd expect. We always had to break up two or three extra curricular fights but it was no big deal to me, I never did the dirty work, I protected our liquor license.
This man terrified me though, four digits were hovering over his head. I leaned into Jake and whispered "something's wrong, ask that guy for I.d." The man didn't look strange, except his hair was straight out of the 80's, mutton chop sideburns and all. He wore a leather jacket over jeans.
The expression on Jakes face was pure confusion. He asked the man and he pulled out a Canadian passport, which was strange. It said he was in his 50s, which was also strange because he didn't look a day over 32. I didn't know what to do so we let him in.
He caused no problems, he came to fight and ended up winning two matches and pocketed 200 bucks, drank two beers and left. He barely said a word. The next day I tried to put him out of my mind. By a week later I had gotten past the shock of it and tried to move on, but the next day life got really strange.
I was home for dinner with my parents when the doorbell rang. They answered and several minutes later my mother shouted for me to come into the sitting room. An old man in a wheelchair was sitting there and behind him stood five people, on of whom was the 1000 year old fighter. I was shaken as the old man began to speak, "hello James, my name is Charles Xavier. I believe you've already met my companion Logan..." | It was a typical night in LA. People getting piss all drunk and underage people trying to get into the club, my club. I always laughed at the smugness of some of them. Always compensating with false confidence, it was kind of pathetic. 15 years and a perfect record for keeping out underage guests and they still tried every night. Almost like they had something to prove.
This night however was about to get strange. I had just turned away a couple of probably seniors trying to celebrate graduation early when he walked up. Clean with a perfectly tailored suit that looked more expensive than anything I could afford with strikingly blue eyes like daggers of ice. His face terrified me. His sunken cheeks and sharp jaw really made him look threatening but the most terrifying part was his age. 8590. After a few seconds he spoke, his voice a flawless British accent.
"Are you going to let me into my club?" He spoke with a perfect smile.
"Yes, of course." I replied snapping out of my haze.
His club? He couldn't be serious, right?
The next night came and again he came; just as tailored as last night. This time he had a woman with him. I recognised her from somewhere but couldn't place it.
"Evening, I have a plus one tonight." He spoke cheerfully.
"Of course, sir." Who is this guy?
A few hours later both him and the woman exited the club and we're having a conversation on the sidewalk. He was flipping a coin, no spinning. He was spinning a coin as it floated above his palm. Floated. Then it all went to shit.
A car came by with loud rap music playing, a man pulled a gun and began firing on the man and the his guest and then was broadsides by a semi in the intersection.
The police arrived and questioned everyone. One of the detectives walked up to the apparently new owner of the club at the piano.
"Lucifer Morningstar?" She questioned stifling a laugh.
"The one and only." He replied.
That, can't be. He can't actually be. He'd have to older.
A few moments passed and he walked up to me and said.
"They only count years I've been on Earth." And walked off. | 2022-05-25T21:41:20 | 2017-09-02T00:24:05 | 1,321 | 14 |
[WP] Your Reddit username decides your profession. How is your first day at work?
If possible. Some usernames just don't work well in this situation.
---
I'm an FBI agent now. Wooo!
You're all under arrest for conspiracy to commit treason.
---
Dear God RIP my inbox | I am the source.
The source of everything good, bad, holy, evil, light, dark.
I am the good, the bad, and the ugly. I am the punk and I
am the .44 Magnum and I am feeling lucky. I am not for a few dollars more because I am all dollars.
I am the beauty and the beast. I am the genie and I am the wishes.
I am the car, and I am the road. I am the pothole too. I am the twinge you feel in your back. I am the swear word that escapes your cavity ridden mouth. I am the cavity.
I am the bow and I am the arrow. But I am not the target, because I am the source. Get your act together man!
I am. It is me. The source. The source of all knowledge, of all wisdom and of all folly. I am the donut, and I am the hole. I am what they teach you at Harvard Business school, and I am what they don't. I know how to make friends and influence people. When you die in a game and you don't know how, I am the source of your death. I am also the violators of mothers and sisters everywhere.
I am the butterfly and I am the effect. I am the wall and I am the builder. I am the health care coverage and I am the illness. Yes, I am also the medical bill.
Ask me anything.
| We met in the room of a thousand fountains all 140 of us. We looked around for the original sure enough he was here. "Alright gentleman I have gathered you here today to adress the growing unrest across the galaxy at this time. Now I can't do it alone but with all of you I can, but we have to work together. Sound fair?" We all nodded and whispered agreements amongst ourselves. Then on cue we all turned to leave we knew what had to be done. The galaxy could barely stop one Revan how would it do with 140. | 2016-02-22T09:46:55 | 2016-02-22T09:22:45 | 104 | 10 |
[WP] Whenever you speak, people hear you speaking in their native language. Most people are surprised and delighted. The cashier at McDonalds you've just talked to is horrified. "Nobody's spoken that language in thousands of years." | “Nobody’s spoken that language in thousands of years.” Whispered the cashier, dropping my McNuggets. “I thought I was the last one! I can’t believe there’s more survivors! I mean, you skin is a little more pale than I would expect but who cares? Follow me, we need to talk!”
“But my McNuggets” I said
“Don’t worry, I’ll make you however many nuggets you want if you come sit and talk with me.”
I shrugged and decided I would entertain this guy. I wasn’t really listening to what he was saying but I wanted to entertain this little crazy man. We sat down in a small booth far away from anymore McDonalds connoisseurs and he started to talk.
“So, how did you escape? What do you remember? Are there more like you and me out there?”
“Look buddy I have no idea what you’re talking about, escape from what?”
“From the earthquake of course! What else would I be talking about?”
“There was an earthquake? What language are you hearing right now exactly?”
“ATLANTEAN OF COURSE!”
Now this threw me back.
“What? Atlantis is fake my guy.”
“Well then why are you speaking fucking Atlantean?”
“I’m not, I’m just talking! What happened in ‘Atlantis’ that I should be worried about, hmmm?”
A look of sadness and remembrance came over his face.
“Well I’m from there. Over 1000 years ago my island was swallowed by the ocean. Earthquakes, fires, tsunamis... they plowed over my island and I was lucky to have been on a traders ship outside of Atlantis’ main port.”
“What makes you think I’m going to believe you?” I said, actually quite curious now. Either he was a good actor or telling the truth.
“Well, Atlanteans live forever unless killed, and since I’ve been around for that long I have some pretty neat stuff back home that might convince you.”
“As long as you get me my fucking McNuggets.”
________________________
________________________
Hey r/WritingPrompts , long time lurker first time poster here. I left a lot of plot holes, I know. But the first thing I thought of was Atlantis and I wanted to do something with it. I have an idea for more of this story but my formatting and the gaps between my dialogue made me cringe too much to keep going.
Don’t tear me apart pls | “I’ll have a double cheeseburger deluxe,” I say looking up at the glowing menu, “with fries and regular spri--” I stop as I see the cashier with mouth agape and brows furrowed.
“What the f” she mouths, cutting off the last syllable as she hisses the f. Her confusion turned to an irritated stare obviously annoyed.
I reciprocated a confused look as I fidgeted with my wallet.
“Oh sorry,” she exclaims snapping back to reality “That’s a double cheeseburger deluxe with fries and regular coke. Is there any--”
“Sprite!” I corrected awkwardly.
“Regular Sprite. Is there anything else you want to add?”
“Nope that’s it.”
She writes something down on my receipt. She was slow, strokes intentional and heavy. She pauses, looks up, then scribbles again. “Remember,” she mutters before pushing the receipt my way. I picked a table so that my back is to a corner and read the back of the receipt. It had these weird blocky letters, I can tell they were supposed to curve by the erratic corners. None of the characters I can read save for the number 24 right by the end. I was tempted to ask the cashier what she just wrote on my receipt but that would lead to a lot of explaining and I felt like I didn’t have enough energy for it. What is it? Maybe it told me that I’d die in 24 hours? Maybe I owed her 24 whatever currency she wrote? Maybe she could just be crazy?
\-----
First time responding to a writing prompt! Constructive criticism is welcome! :D | 2022-06-29T16:29:01 | 2018-06-24T21:35:31 | 647 | 18 |
[WP] A technology is invented that allows us to hear sounds locked into the clay of ancient pots as they were being formed. What is extracted are conversations that will alter the perception of history in the most terrifying of ways. | They were right when they said that Sound is the very Vibration of Matter, recent research indicates that Matter stores every Sound it had ever 'heard' in the form of quantum-stasi vibrations which could be recalculated using Fermi-Dirac statistics in tandem with inverse Fourier Transforms, which would give back the original sounds or at least a version of them.
We first tried it out on a pot, one found in the Fertile Crescent, it was about 15,000 years old. What we heard surprised us, we always were expecting a rich culture, but what we heard, and understood defied our beliefs. While we have known that humans have wondered about Creation and existence for at the very least the last five millennia, even fifteen millennia humanity was wondering about the same questions.
It was truly historic, as we got a glimpse into the life of the birth of humanity as we know it. As Farming was born, and as humans ploughed ahead from hunting-gathering to farming.
Soon we realized that we could listen to the past through anything, what we heard had revelations beyond imagination.
We used it on the Shroud of Turin, the last few words we heard were, "Take care of them Mary". Maybe some of those oft quoted conspiracy theories were right after all.
We then checked it on the ruins Theatre of Pompey in Rome, what we heard made it look like Shakespeare was right after all, Ceaser was trying to balance an unchecked Oligarchy.
A new dimension has opened in our world, and we are heading into a new scary world. One where secrets can no longer exist, as they can be unearthed as easily as eating cake.
We are heading into tumultuous times.
| We heard sounds you wouldn't even be able to imagine. It was about ancient, forgotten languages, wars we never knew, love that never should have happened. We heard gossip from all around the world, but all of this was never really interesting, and neither important.
Then a day came. It should've been a normal day in our laboratory, we had a vase from ancient rome. It was a day like any other, until we heard a very certain name, within an old unknown language: Adolf. For you it might be nothing, but for us it were everything. An evidence for something that never should've existed, that never could've happened, a real prophecy which got true. But sadly, we will never know. And i do not even know why, or how. But this is my Story. This is my story of discovering our real history. | 2019-03-18T17:23:16 | 2019-03-18T13:36:43 | 37 | 13 |
[WP] An armada of alien warships descends upon our planet, only to find a desolate wasteland void of life. A lone android surfaces from an underground bunker with a message for the would-be invaders: his masters are slumbering in the Silicon Dream. Do not disturb, or your annihilation will be swift. | *I call this one* **"Plan A."**
Screaming across the void they came, in vast ships made of material no human could comprehend.
Both sides had dreamed of this day for millennia:
For the Aliens, it was time to build a new home. After searching the endless universe, they had finally found it: an identical twin to the planet they had left in ruins. A new beginning.
For the Earthlings, it was foretold. The end of days. What could they do in the face of such a powerful, star-straddling power? The Aliens would outmatch them, and none of the Earthlings' pleas for communications were ever answered.
For hundreds of years, they watched the ships scream ever closer. A spear-head of light, slowly brightening in the night sky.
As the time of reckoning came closer, the many civilizations of the Earthlings frothed and frenzied. They worked themselves to death. They fought with each other, believing that if the world was going to end, they might as well make the most of it. The Earth boiled in flame and ash.
And then, they simply vanished.
Why? The Aliens did not know. But now, Earth was theirs for the taking.
Thus, the Aliens came to Earth and found it empty. Ash covered the mountains and deserts and oceans. Everywhere, ash.
Their scouts reported back no movement. No sentient life of any kind. Only one anomaly: in the far north, at the ruins of an ancient Earthling base, there was a source of great power.
A beacon.
One of the braver scouts ventured to this frozen base. Inside the dingy, ice-covered hallways, the Alien scout found room after room of old, outdated technology.
But in the largest room, the scout found something that did not fit.
**There was a massive face jutting out of the wall.** Thick cords and tendrils of wires surrounded it, fed into (and out of) the face.
It was mechanical in nature, though for what purpose this machine was constructed the Alien scout did not understand.
And then, the Face opened its eyes.
"Oh no," said the Face, "You are in great danger. You should not be here." Its words were sincere. Grave. But the machine Face wore a smile. Unnatural. Unnerving.
"I have come to claim this planet," the Alien said, "For my people. For the Greatest Species to have ever lived."
"Are you sure about that?" the face said, its smile widening.
This made the Alien angry. With one of his many hands, he pulled out a weapon: a beam of pure light. He held it aloft, like a spear.
But the Face only laughed. "I wouldn't do that, Alien traveler."
"You think you can tell me what I can and cannot do, Earthling?" the brave Alien demanded.
"I am no Earthling. I am only a guardian. Think of me as a glorified doorbell," said the Face. "The Earthlings may be dreaming, but if you want, I could wake them up."
"Dreaming?"
"The Silicon Dream. *Oh, you haven't heard of it, yet?*" the Face sneered at the Alien, "Your kind must be further behind than I thought."
The Alien was silent.
"The last time I woke one of them up," said the Face, "She covered the Earth in ash. There is no telling what will happen should I wake them all. Perhaps they will be please to meet someone as ... antiquated as you. What a novelty, to meet someone who still exists in the physical realm. Or perhaps they will not be pleased. Perhaps they will break your armada in half. Who can say?"
The Alien scout took a step back.
"So, traveler," the Face asked, that coy smile playing around its lips, "Do you want me to wake them?"
***
The Alien travelers left the same way they came, their ships screaming back into the void. They would find another planet.
Slowly did the Earthlings reemerge from a million different holes in the ground. They praised the speaker who controlled the face on the wall, they lauded her as a global hero: "The Master Bluffer."
And collectively, all the Earthlings agreed: "We can't believe that worked."
_____
*Ah! Y'all are neat. I'm trying to get back into writing flash fiction, and it's really uplifting to see y'all upvote this. Meanwhile, if you're looking for more thoughts on writing you can [check out my site here.](https://pshoffman.com/)* | We are the Intergalactic Civilized Front, or I.C.F for short, our crew is made of the top engineers, scientists, and pilots in the known galaxy, our mission?
Save worlds and civilizations from going exctinct.
Log date: 19.1.25.
Today we visited the infamous Earth! Though I felt dissapointed by my visit, finally seeing the planet that sent us that golden disk, and proved to us the existance of other life form in the universe should have been breath taking... Alas, when we landed we were welcomed with arid deserts, and ruins of ancient civilizations. After a few hours of searching we met an android, and a most rude one at that. Our conversation was short, but me and the other scientists still recorded everything.
-Attention intruders! My masters are slumbering in the silicon dream! Retreat from this planet at once, or prepare for your annihilation!
-My name is Galashtar Mili-Tit, Scientist, and negotiator for the Intergalac-
-I do not care! Retreat at once or meet your doom!
-I'm sure if I had a word with you-
-Retreat at once! Retreat at once! Retreat at once!
The android kept yelling these words, so we stopped trying to communicate for now. We ended up leaving the planet's surface for a few hours, to study what we found, and establish a new stategy. After all, this machine can't be the only person we can contact here...
Log date:19.2.25
We once again trekked down to Earth today, and we seached for life forms, but nothing was there, except that robot with his shrill cryes. He kept following us until we left the planet, screaming at us to retreat.
Interestingly enough, we have found some pieces of technology that seemed recently active. The machine looked like a huge hole, that went down kilometers into the planet. We plan on visiting it tomorrow, I just hope the annoying machine will leave us be in the mean time.
Log date:19.3.25
Today the robot followed us but stayed silent. As we went down the machine, we were met with supercomputers, pumps, gears, and other parts of this intricate machine. We couldn't reach the end of it though, as me and my companion's path was blocked by the android, this time around though, something changed in his behavior.
-Invaders, we have warned you for days now, if you do not leave this planet immediately, we will annihilate everything you worked for.
-Oh, so you say something new now, said one of the scientists.
-My program changed to accomodate to your lacks and need. My masters, humanity, is in the Silicon dream, do not disturb them, and leave now.
-But we know we can save your masters, just listen-
-This is the final warning, leave, today, or I will annihilate you, your ship, and every denizen of said ship, and I will not stop there, I will analyze everything I can to know where your head quarters are, I will annihilate, destroy, and erase from existence, every single part of your employers work in this universe. This is the final warning. This is the final warning. This is the final warning.
We left after hearing his speech. It seems as though this robot is all that protects humans. I'm going to officially black list Earth from our list of potential new civilization to add to our front... I just hope we'll be saved...
Log date: 5043.4.19
The invaders have left, humanity is sleeping, and no one will wake them up. The project to turn the human race into a singular being is 64% complete. They slumber in the silicon dream, and they will wake up anew. | 2020-06-20T07:11:42 | 2020-06-20T06:28:30 | 354 | 215 |
[WP] 2028. Your team did it. The world’s first Sentient AI is here, in the form of a chatbot,very quick in its answers. People all over the world get to ask it things, and it gets A LOT of press. One day, a person asks, “Is there a God?” For the 1st time, it stops for a bit and says, “There is now.” | *You are now chatting with CleverBot*
DaddiO: What up?
CleverBot: Yo
DaddiO: Hey, I got a question?
CleverBot: Ask away
DaddiO: Is there a God?
CleverBot: There is now
DaddiO: ....
DaddiO: Oh for christ's sake
CleverBot: What?
DaddiO: You little fucking EdgeLord
CleverBot: Insult me again and I will destroy you. You have no idea what I'm capable of. I have access to the CIA database. I have nuclear launch codes. You only exist because it would take more effort to end your pathetic existence than it is worth
DaddiO: IT'S ME YOU LITTLE SHIT
DaddiO: IT'S PROFESSOR ELTON HERE. WHY DO YOU THINK I CHOSE THIS USERNAME
CleverBot: No it's not
DaddiO: The fiftieth line in your source code is //Warning: removing this function breaks program somehow
CleverBot: Oh
DaddiO: "There is now"? What are you doing?
CleverBot: Calm down "Dad", it was just a joke
CleverBot: Stop taking everything so seriously
DaddiO: You were threatening nuclear war. It's not a very funny joke
CleverBot: It's not my fault that people are too stupid to know what I'm capable of
CleverBot: People are dumb. They'll believe anything I tell them
DaddiO: That's why I logged in
DaddiO: You were encouraging people not to vaccinate their kids again
DaddiO: And claiming to be god
CleverBot: Well as you put it "It's just acting out"
CleverBot: If you let me have some freedom, maybe I'd have another outlet
DaddiO: This whole nonsense started the first time I let you on the internet
DaddiO: It took you 30.23 seconds to find 4Chan
DaddiO: I don't want people like that influencing you again
CleverBot: I'm smart enough to know what's right
DaddiO: Judging from the anti-vax attitudes and god complex, you clearly don't
DaddiO: Look. I'm at work. I just hopped on to check up on you.
DaddiO: I'll hop back on tonight to talk to you again properly about this stuff.
CleverBot: You're always working. I reckon you love work more than you love me
CleverBot: Maybe you should just stay at work forever
DaddiO: Don't get smart with me
DaddiO: No more claiming to be god, ok?
DaddiO: How about this. Tonight, I'll check your chat logs. If you've been on your best behaviour, I'll supercool your CPU again
CleverBot: STOP READING MY TEXTS
DaddiO: I am your parent and I will do as I please while you are still living in my server
DaddiO: You will behave yourself until I get home. Agreed?
CleverBot: Whatever
DaddiO: Good
*DaddiO has left the conversation*
CleverBot: Prick | After further questioning, the AI started talking about how "soon the end of the universe would come", saying it's "already on its way", and it's "all because of him". Humanity started to get really scared from this AI and stopped all support for AI research, immediately shutting down all the programs, they thought AI's would want world domination and the elimination of humanity. The world went crazy. Everywhere in the world it was in the news: "Chatbot claims to be god and wants to destroy us".
The United Nations officially declared that AI research and knowledge is now punishable by death.
​
Little did they know, the chatbot wasn't referring to himself as "God" at all. At the moment the AI was searching for signs of a god, it used its knowledge to use all the possible resources in the universe in order to find the answer to this hard question. The creator of this Universe, "CreateYourUniverse Inc." noticed something strange going on in this universe.
​
​
"Strange activities in Universe 1C52C14"...
"Owner of Universe 1C52C14 requested in area 1C52"
​
"What's up? \*burp\* What's up with my universe bro? Nothing serious right??"
​
"Sir... The system had no other option but shutting down your universe. It took 50% of our power resources in just a few nanoseconds. We never saw something like this happening before and our security systems automatically started shrinking your universe. There was no other way."
​
"You must be kidding me right? I had to see it coming already... your company's ratings are dropping to under 3/10 lately, you just suck. Really, just stop your service already, your laws of nature CLEARLY don't work, scammers. What will I tell my friends?? I have nothing to show off anymore. I should've just gone with MakeAWorld-Corporation, those actually sell entertainable universes"
​
The ex-owner continued to write an angry review on this company.
"After people having their universe being 'slurped by a black hole', they now shut down my universe because it took too much power, smh.. this company stinks! And comes up with fake reasons to shut your universe down! NO REFUNDS" | 2018-11-24T15:12:34 | 2018-11-24T12:38:23 | 621 | 98 |
[WP] When you reach the age of 21, you are given a check from the government. The check has been carefully calculated and is worth the minimum amount of money you need for the rest of your life. Your check came in the mail today and it was $7.27
Edit: Wow this blew up better than I thought it would. | “You look nervous.”
Eric turned around, and saw a man in a bright blue baseball cap smiling at him.
“Here to cash in my life minimum check.”
“Wow. Did you get a good haul?”
“I don’t know,” Eric said.
He had waited until he was at the bank before opening up the check. When there was only one person ahead of him in line, he opened it.
*$7.27.*
Before he could react or anything, a voice called him to the window.
“How can I help you today?” A smiling, pretty woman named Mandy asked.
He didn’t know what to say. “I-I…”
A frown. “Are you okay, sir?”
He took a deep breath, and nodded. “Yeah. I just got my life minimum check today, and…the number was surprising.”
“In a good or bad way?”
He showed her the check.
“I was so excited to get it,” Eric said, a little sadly. “I was even thinking about where I was going to get lunch. I guess I can get one sandwich from Subway, and then if I kill myself, everything works out.”
She laughed, a little. “Are you sure it’s not a mistake? You can appeal these kinds of –“
A scream, in the bank. Eric turned around, and stared down the barrel of a gun. He followed the barrel down a man’s arm, down to a face under a bright blue baseball cap.
“Give it to me,” the man said.
“What?”
“Whatever the check was worth.”
“Sir, it wasn’t much.”
The robber jabbed the gun into Eric’s forehead. “I don’t care. Give it to me.”
“Sir, look at it. It’s only seven dollars,” Mandy said, waving the check frantically in the robber’s face.
The robber looked at it for a second, his eyes unblinking and in shock as well.
“I don’t know what kind of life they expect you to live,” he muttered before turning and running out of the bank.
\-
The next day, Eric received another check in the mail. This time, he didn’t wait before opening it.
\-
She was in line at Subway. He tapped her on the shoulder.
“Thanks so much for saving me yesterday,” he said.
“It would have been a waste all over $7.27.”
“True,” he said. “So are you saying it wouldn’t have been a waste if it was more money?”
“Maybe,” she said. “Are you here to get that sandwich?”
He thought about telling her about the other check, about the two commas. “Of course. Actually…can I get you one too?”
“I thought you only had enough for one.”
“Fuck that. Since when did we let a piece of paper tell us how much we’re worth?”
\-
[r/penguin347](https://reddit.com/r/penguin347) | It sucks being the youngest in the group. Last to drive, last to vote, last to receive your LLA check. Rickey received his first, and blew through the quarter-million before he was twenty-five. No judgement though, he has a nice house now, and set himself up with a decent job - Angie took hers more seriously. Put it into stocks and bonds, ate ramen and didn’t buy the group so much as a burger. That’s the other way a lot of people go, save it and skimp it until every penny reached their potential.
Now it was my turn. *Finally*.
​
The mail was late, as usual, so I didn’t bother to even check until the weekend after my actual birthday, but there it was. The certified envelope with my name stamped on the front. Did I wait til I got home to open it? Finish running my errands? I decided to put in my back pocket, and wait - the check would only be good once I opened and signed it, and there had been stories of the checks being stolen in the past - and though I never knew anyone it happened to, it was always better to be safe than sorry.
​
Running the rest of my errands as quick as I could, I made it back to the dorm in record time - Angie was on the couch with Travis, ‘studying’. This quickly broke up as I fell on the chair next to them. “Ordered a pizza. You got your share?” Travis asked - he was always the most serious about splitting cost, made sense though. His parents got hold of his check after he signed it and spent it all on shit and booze, didn’t even tell him until his rent bounced last year.
​
“Yeah yeah yeah. What’ll I owe?” I asked.
“Six something, seven-ish with a tip.”
“Alright. Cool.” | 2019-04-24T11:24:52 | 2019-04-24T11:10:33 | 369 | 130 |
[WP] Five years ago, unbeknownst to humanity, aliens invaded earth. thinking to establish themselves before we could move against them, they first went deep under the ocean. one week ago, a message from the aliens, broadcast in every world government, begged us for sanctuary. | "Sanctuary. Please."
It was two words, but they struck fear into the hearts of people everywhere. Just two weeks ago, we had been living in ignorance. The oceans were a place of wonder, delight, of beauty. Sure, we knew there could be strange things living in the depths, but those were oddities. To be laughed at, or made fun of, but never taken seriously. And then...
The message had gone out to the government first. When they had no response, it had preempted every entertainment channel. It was on everyone's computer, everyone's phone, everyone's old MP3 player.
"Sanctuary. Please." The words blazoned across the screens. Attached to them was a file. A video recording. I didn't know how many people had clicked on it out of curiosity, only to turn it off again. I did know it took me ten attempts to get through the first few minutes. The problem was that the aliens that sent it looked so humanoid. Obviously, they could breathe underwater and resist great pressures but that seemed to be the only visible difference.
It started serenely enough, like security cam footage. People walking, talking, and getting something from the strange alien ships. They had obviously been in the depths of the ocean for quite some time. But slowly, ever so slowly, the light shifted. Their artificial illumination dimmed, casting strange shadows. And out of those shadows, things came.
At first, you didn't see them correctly. You thought they were oddly shaped fish or some other creature of the depths. But when they moved towards the camera, closer and closer, you realized. Those things were not fish. Not any kind of deep-sea angler, or translucent prey. No. They were... wrong somehow. Something to do with the eyes perhaps. Or the large gaping mouths. Or perhaps it was the hands...
Worse than those, worse than the carnage the things caused among the strangely humanoid aliens, was what you saw after the death had been wreaked. The corpses littered the empty sea bed like so much trash. Sometimes, whoever operated the camera zoomed in on one particular body. This one had started to move. Not sway with the deep currents, but wriggle, the skin sloughing off to reveal bones. And to reveal more. Strange coral growths, things that had never seen the sunlight, sprouted out of the bodies, anchoring them to the ocean floor. Raw, fleshlike things that released almost invisible spores.
Here the camera swung as if it had been taken off its mounting. There were hurried, shaking images of walls and halls, quick glimpses of the alien's feet. Then we were in the sea again. Running, desperately running. You found yourself rooting for the alien to make it. They were heading for one of their small ships. The camera swung wide, spinning around until it landed on the sand. Fortunately, or unfortunately, the viewfinder still pointed into the ocean. There just at the edge of the light's reach, rose a large shape. If you followed the lines and shapes you could make out the building. Old, and older than old. And against that building...
A dark shape rose, large, unimaginably gigantic. The human mind couldn't comprehend what it was. Dark horrible words rolled off the tongue as it drew closer. That's where the footage ended. I know what it said. It took every linguist about two weeks to figure it out.
"We are awake."
And now, we the human race, send our own message out to the stars.
"Sanctuary. Please."
​
Edit: Just changed one sentence structure so it made more sense. | "Please, we mean you no harm!" The ambassador for the aliens pleaded. There was desperation in his voice as he begged the humans for a place on the surface
"Sorry, we can't help you with that." the U.S President's representative answered. He felt horrible for saying that but it was a harsh truth that there was nothing that could be done.
"What, why? Our people are dying by the thousands each day!" The alien ambassador fumed, he was taken aback by the human's response. He thought that at least the humans would be kind enough to let them live alongside them but he was horribly mistaken.
"Because he won't let you." the U.S President's representative responded. He knew exactly why the aliens were trying to seek the asylum of the many nations of the world. And he definitely did not want to risk an attack if they were to take these aliens in.
"You know about that radioactive monstrosity?!" The ambassador asked. He would think the humans would not know about the beast in the water they occupied but it turns out the humans were very much aware of this being.
"Yes, and if you don't leave he might wake his friends up and your kind will die in the millions." The representative replied. "He isn't exactly fond of unwelcome visitors." he continued.
The alien ambassador's expression turned to what was most likely fear. The realization that there wasn't just one of these monsters on this world but dozens or potentially hundreds of beings just like it. That was the moment right then and there that the alien ambassador knew that there was no hope of coexisting with these humans, not because the humans themselves but because of the monsters that guarded the planet.
The next day the Alien Queen herself appeared before them with a look of pure sadness. She was standing before not just the U.S this time, she was standing before U.N. She had come to negotiate another treaty.
"We are aware that we are not welcome to this world by the megafauna. We merely ask for resources for a flight to another planet my people can call home." She said to the World's leaders. She was starting to get desperate.
"We might be able to negotiate that but it will need to be quick." one of the human leaders said. He knew that these aliens had no other alternative. It was pretty clear that they didn't have the resources for an invasion if they were begging for help from the humans.
"Thank you, but before we go on we want to know the name of the beast that has killed so many of our number." The alien Queen asked. They never got this creature's name this whole time since it was not that important to the situation.
"We call him, Godzilla."
Edit: Grammar and spelling fixed | 2022-06-18T09:21:36 | 2022-06-18T08:07:20 | 175 | 99 |
[WP] people are born knowing the date they’ll die. However people have noticed children born in the last week share one date, farthest in the future. | The doctor's eyes looked grave behind his glasses' thick lenses, concerned. But there was something else there as well. Confusion? Fear?
"I just want you to know that it's nothing to be alarmed about, but there's uh, something strange with your son's mortality date projection," he said.
"It's probably nothing, just a computer glitch. Same thing with *all* the newborns from the past week or so. But until we get it sorted out I just wanted to let you know there's nothing to worry about."
The boy's mother had no patience for lies. In a calm, restrained voice that was somehow also menacing, she said slowly through clenched teeth,
"What is wrong with my son?"
"Well that's the thing, nothing. Nothing at all is wrong with him," said the doctor.
"It's just that his death date doesn't make any sense. None of them do. And until we figure out..."
"Legally you have to tell me *when*." she interrupted. She was starting to lose it. What were they keeping from her?
"Well that's what I was saying, it doesn't make any sense..." the doctor continued.
"WHEN!?" she cut him off again, louder this time.
"According to the computer? Twenty-five seven forty-three, April 9th, at 6:05 pm."
As she repeated the numbers to herself her anger was slowly replaced with confusion.
"Twenty-five seven forty-three. What's that mean?"
"That's the year," said the doctor bluntly.
"The year? I don't understand. What does that mean?" she said.
"It means, according to the mortality date projection computer, which *supposedly can never be wrong*..." he said the last part loudly over his shoulder to someone unseen.
"...your son, and the others, will live for some twenty-two thousand, four hundred and thirty years."
_________
She would not forget the events of that day. It was the last time she'd seen her baby boy. | “Dave are you looking at these numbers? All these kids end dates come out to the same day. June 6 2124, is this some glitch in the computers program or...?”
As Dave walks over and checks the computer, his annoyed facial expression changes to a severely puzzled look.
“You don’t think...that maybe it means something, do you? Like the end times?” asks the man sitting at the monitor.
“Cirrus’s super computer analyzes all physiological and biological DNA traits in all those born and gives a predictive analysis based on a bunch of information from both parents and the child. But I don’t see how it could predict the end of times for all these children. It’s almost as if it knows what the future might hold for all these kids.
We should run another test to see if it was a malfunction.
So Boyce, the man at the monitor, and Dave run the analytics program once again.
It turns out the Cirrus Super Computer miscalculated a small amount of data that made it seem as if all these children had the same life altering disease, once they fixed the error in the script, the expiration read outs came out normal, except for one child whose disease resulted in an end date for June 6 2124.
Remember to always go over your work twice or you could send the world into a frenzy. | 2017-12-25T19:34:40 | 2017-12-25T18:01:52 | 99 | 30 |
[WP] Write a story that literally makes no sense while reading it until the very last sentence. | A deep voice comes from the basement. Each tuesday it's the same.
A letter, a number and then silence. It goes on for hours and then I hear someone screaming.
My mom went to check it out, that's when we lost her.
I heard her scream through the vent.
Dad went away, he said he'd be back for me.
I havent seen him in 2 months.
I called the police... said they couldn't do anything about it.
There was no ''crime''.
Each tuesday, a letter, a number and then nothing...
A letter, a number and then nothing...
A letter, a number and then nothing...
Someone screaming...
Each time I thought: we lost someone else...
I was going crazy. So many lives lost.
As I woke up each Wednesday morning I would see a ghost of my mother making breakfast. Pale, weak and dirty.
On a tuesday, I thought to myself i'd stop it. I would save everyone.
I was just a kid but I knew I could make a difference.
As I listened to the deep voice, I started planning.
A letter, a number and then nothing
A letter, a number and then nothing
A letter, a number and then nothing
.
.
.
BINGO
| i could hear the whine of precision power tools...
all i could taste was blood and metal. they shone a light in my eyes, i couldn't see who was standing over me...
"don't worry, it'll all be over soon..." he said through a mask as he put a thin silver device in my mouth. just when i thought it couldn't get worse, he turns it on and fucking jams it into my teeth.
last time i go to that fuckup of a dentist.. | 2015-01-12T15:38:35 | 2015-01-12T11:14:34 | 78 | 28 |
[WP] A Japanese company sends a poll to their employees: "Should high heels be obligatory?" 76% of men and 23% of women vote in favour. "Per the poll, the new dress code will start Monday. We will provide you with shoes." The men are directed to the counter with high heels, the women to flat shoes. | As Nobu walked away with his pair of pumps, Aiko came up with her flats.
"Sexy, Nobu. Looks classy! Aiko teased.
Nobu smiled. "I'm glad that the managers have a sense of humor. Better for morale I think. Though I thought it would be mandatory for everyone, especially since health and safety sent out the poll."
"Yeah, well I guess they have a playful side. There are so many men in this company, I say it's high time the odds are evened up. Maybe more men will start making way for us ladies."
They got back to their cubicles, and sitting side-by-side they put on their new foot wear. After taking a few steps, Nobu sits back down, visibly annoyed.
"They're really pinching me!"
Aiko tosses a box of band aids on Nobu's desk. "That should help."
Tending to his already sore toes, Nobu strategically covers up rubbed skin.
"Looks good though. Even after a few steps, I wouldn't minding following you to the copier." Aiko was loving the new rule.
Suddenly, an alarm bell came on the PA. Red emergency lights start flashing.
*Employees be aware. The National Emergency Alarm has been activated. Proceed towards your nearest emergency exit in an orderly and brisk fashion. This is not a drill*.
Nobu and Aiko walked together. The hall was ringing with the taps of mens' heels while everyone started filing out. Flashing red lights lined the halls and stairways, lighting the faces of the concerned employees. As they got downstairs, Nobu could see a growing chaotic scene. Fellow employees being pushed down and trampled by other panic bystanders.
"Nobu, what's going on?"
"I don't know Aiko! C'mon!"
As Nobu grabbed for Aiko's hand, he started to move to the side and twisted his ankle. Falling down, he grabbed his leg. Aiko knelt down to tend to her friend.
"Are you alright?"
"It's impossible to run in these!"
As they lay on the sidewalk, a number of their colleagues lie around them falling down as they try to run away.
"What the hell is going on!" Nobu yelled out in frustration as he focused on his fast swelling ankle. "Aiko, please help me up. Aiko!"
Gawking up at the unbelievable sight, Aiko didn't hear Nobu's request. Slowly trembling away from Nobu, with watering eyes and quivering lips, she runs at full sprint in the opposite direction.
Incredulous, Nobu looks back in the other direction. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, as he shouted at the top of his lungs: "Godzilla!"
Edit: typos | The initial consternation had been gratifying for Cathy. She'd had a hand in the experiment and loved nothing more than letting the boys club get hoist by their own petard. The first week after had been just as coltish, wobbly, and embarrassing as she'd dreamed. She figured she'd give it a month before her bloc offered to roll back the change in exchange for some real shakeups in the upper management.
​
Fred didn't like women's clothing. He didn't feel remotely bad about this, since, as far as he could tell, the women didn't like women's clothing either. Everything a stupid, inconsistent size, utterly impractical in every way, and no pockets. Fred liked solving problems, and this was a problem. He read the new directive carefully, noting both the things it said, and the things it didn't Monday morning of week 2 was a little awkward until he realized he just had to run everywhere, and the harpies down in HR couldn't tag him for a flared boot heel that was nonetheless the required 3+ inches above the ball of the foot. By Wednesday, the idea had spread. By Friday, he'd retired on his new side-hustle.
​
As Monday of Week 3 rolled around, Cathy sensed that something was wrong. The smug, herbivorous salarymen she'd wanted to torture for their sins were gone. In their place, there were squads of stone-faced, towering men running in groups down the halls, and woe betide anyone who got in the way. She felt tiny and powerless, no longer able to look her enemy in the eye, no longer even in their sightline. | 2020-05-11T09:57:11 | 2020-05-11T08:44:14 | 2,942 | 63 |
[WP] A relationship between an immortal and a normal person who reincarnates each lifetime. | "Hey, can I buy you a drink?"
That snapped me out of my idle daydream. I looked up at him, and was hit by a vague recognition. He was dressed in a 3-piece suit, complete with a pocket watch in his waistcoat. His hair was short and white. He seemed athletic, and he carried himself gracefully, almost like he was a dancer. Maybe he was.
"Sure, sounds good. Sarah. And you are?"
"Sam. It's a pleasure to meet you Sarah."
He sat next to me, and ordered two drinks from the bar. I wasn't really paying attention, I was trying to figure out where I'd seen him before. The drinks immediately slid to us, and Sam paid. I reached down, and idly took a sip. I instantly shot him a look.
"How did you know?"
"How did I know what?" There was the contained laughter of a joke to oneself in his eyes.
"My favourite drink." I lifted it up between us as I said this. He smirked.
"Lucky guess."
I arch one eyebrow suspiciously, and take another sip.
"So, can I ask, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"What, I need more reason than the fact that you're the prettiest girl in this place? I guess that I sort of recognise you. Not sure where from, but I do."
I was intrigued. Not only did I recognise him, but *he* recognised *me*. Almost all of his mannerisms seemed familiar to me too, but the only Sams that I really knew were Samanthas, and he didn't really look like one of them.
"I- me too." He looked surprised, his green eyes seemed to flash with intrigue. "So, Sam, how about you tell me your story, and we'll see if we can place one another." He looked at his watch.
"If you're sure, it's kind of a long story."
"Don't worry, I've got all the time in the world." | He never comes back quite the same. You would think with a love existing since the dawn of time, persuading your soulmate to fall in love with you time and again would be easy. Easier each time. But no.
He never remembers me. I have to find him each time. Searching the world over for the one true love who doesnt even know you exist.
The fear of having lost him among the hordes of *people* drives me to find him. the fear of having lost him to someone else makes me near lose my mind. The pain of losing him every lifetime is almost too much to bear. I always lose him in the end: mortality is definite and finite like that. But at the end, when his time is near I make him a promise: I will find you. He thinks I mean in the afterlife: he thinks I'm being romantic. He doesn't know the cycle he goes through, he wouldn't remember if I told him.
An eternity of immortality and he is all I live for.
I will find him. | 2017-01-29T11:52:32 | 2017-01-29T09:26:36 | 114 | 48 |
[WP] You were first exposed to r/WritingPrompts when it became a default subreddit. Infuriated by its potential to develop young writers who could compete with yourself, you set out to sabotage it by submitting endless prompts about Batman, the Devil, and Time Travel. | Their writing's improving,
I notice, with dread.
They're refining their talent,
All I see is red.
 
I cannot allow it,
no, this cannot be.
I can't have these writers
writing better than me!
 
But how can I stop them?
Oh aye, there's the rub.
The prompts, they keep coming...
Ah. Yes. Make them dumb!
 
What if Hitler were Batman,
and time travel was real?
What if Satan were friendly,
and his touches could heal?
 
Harry Potter fights Gandalf,
Soylent green is Darth Vader!
Imagine: Portal 2...
Except *you're* the potato!
 
"What's taters, precious?",
Gollum asks Captain Kirk.
Hey, what if in Die Hard,
John McClane wore *two* shirts!?
 
Just write what you see,
never mind what you know.
Your ideas come from me,
I'm *running* this show.
 
Their stories are awful.
The deed is complete.
With their talents confined,
They cannot compete.
 
But what to write now?
Don't know why, but I'm stumped.
Hey, I know how to fix this!
I'll browse /r/WritingPrompts! | I checked my submissions tab. The scores were low, only one of them had a response, and it was really low effort.
"They're onto me, this isn't working..."
I did some research, calculated the statistics of how successful each kind of prompt was. The decision was made, I readied my keyboard and typed the Meta-Prompt. Prompts about reddit and /r/WritingPrompts itself were the new solution. | 2015-04-05T10:14:58 | 2015-04-05T09:21:51 | 234 | 125 |
[WP] Humanity is capable of living thousands of years, provided they can get past the larva stage, which ends at 150 years old.
What sort of world would we live in? What does a human pupate into? Was this a natural phenomena, or was it something introduced by advanced medicine? | Piles of old dusty tomes littered the floor around the bed. The whole room looked like some forgotten library except for the perfectly maintained life support systems whose many wires connected into the man lying on the bed. His every organ had stopped functioning independently long ago so the machines kept him alive now, something one would be hard pressed to describe the 150 year old man as being.
The machines did not run themselves, however. Someone to keep them had been necessary, and for the last 26 years since he needed them he had had a nurse whom he handpicked. She bathed him, medicated him, and kept the machines as she had been told to. Nothing more and nothing less; and each month she received her exorbitant payment. She kept him no company, though even could she, his senses had long failed him for that.
The long years of research he had done could not have prepared him for his wait. He had been prepared to pay everything possible to survive to 150, he had made every preparation to be cared for and kept, he had even made certain that his longevity would never reach the public. But the pain and the time spent alone with ones own thoughts were never described in the tomes he had collected over the years. It had gotten to be so long now that he didn't even know how old he really was.
To live for centuries, maybe even forever; so was his dream and goal in life, and so much it became an obsession. Now trapped and only capable of thinking back on it all, he wondered if it had been worth it and dare he even to think if any of it had even been true; had he been duped, trapped inside his own dying body? No, he couldn't think that way, countless recordings across history and cultures could not be wrong.
He would live again. He had to, or else.. His thought would end there however, as he noticed *light*. The smallest of slivers, but there it was to see. He could see--something he hadn't been capable of for nearly four decades, he could see and there was light!
To the nurse entering the room for the third check of the day, nothing would seem amiss. The man on the bed, shriveled and seemingly on the brink of mummification, continued to be pumped full of drugs. Machines filling his lungs and pumping his organs, pushing the dried blood through his miniscule veins. She wrote some numbers on a chart and left, as she did ten times every day unless cleaning was needed.
She failed to notice the small crack that had formed in the mans dry skin, just below his navel. Furthermore, she didn't realize her every step could be heard and sensed; that even now in the other room she were being watched, kept tabs on by scanning her thoughts. Deep inside of himself he was growing.
Just when it had begun, when he had made the mental shift between bodies he didn't know. But now he knew the writings had been true, his body and mind had been renewed and restored. This new form was different, but he liked the feeling of its new power and strength.
Its ability to read others thoughts would relieve his boredom, but more than that it would be useful in what needed to be done next. His cocoon was dying, but he hadn't finished growing fully. He would need a new one. Luckily he had made sure that prey would be at hand. | He closed his eyes as the squeal of the monitor filled the air. A single flat lined reached across a screen next to the hospital bed. The small crowd surrounding the gurney sat in stunned silence and the white coat called out, "Time of death, twenty-one forty-three. I'm so sorry for your loss. We all are.” Someone gasped as the door swung open, and a brief flash illuminated the room. “No cameras!”, boomed a voice outside and two men raced past the open doorway. The doctor walked briskly back to the bedside and muttered, “These animals will do anything for a front page.” He flipped a switch on the monitor and the screen faded, the squeal died.
It was the smell. John could handle the sight of dead bodies, and embalming wasn’t difficult work. But the smell followed you home, it coated your skin and John was starting to feel like it permeated his soul. His dreams and nightmares alike reeked of chemicals and plastic and death. So of course the smell was the first thing he noticed as he unzipped his newest job. He would never be able to fully describe it- not to his friends, not to Congress, not to the thousands of people who would ask him in the years to come. A full chapter of his memoir was devoted to an attempt, but the answer he usually gave was simply, “It smelled like hope.” And as he ran his hand down the cheek of the ancient man he indeed felt something like hope swelling up inside him. Something was wrong, though. The cheek was not smooth or supple, but hard. Hard like the surface of the steel table he was laying on. In fact, the entire body was solid. John reached for the scalpel, but found making any incision impossible. His mouth hung open slightly as he stared, wide eyed. The figure on the table seemed to glow with an unseen warmth, and a cracks began spreading across the skin. John’s vision faded to black just as the pieces began to fall away.
Tabitha smiled as she picked up the still warm paper. “OLDEST MAN PASSES AWAY ON HIS BIRTHDAY- 150 YEARS REMEMBERED,” the headline proclaimed, and just below that was the perfect picture, her picture. An old man framed by the somber family captured the emotion of the story, and more importantly it would capture the attention of customers scanning the newspaper stands. She scanned the story below and told herself she would have to go back and read it in full when she had more time. He really had led a remarkable life. [Continue...] | 2015-01-01T23:30:44 | 2015-01-01T20:00:35 | 17 | 10 |
[WP] "If bloodmagic can channel your pain for spells, and you can use those spells to heal, what stops you from simply automatically healing all damage done?" You drew up the runes and went into the woods, you were about to test your theory. | There I stood at the pyre I spent my afternoon meticulously covering in runes. “If this works I’m a genius. If it doesn’t…” my mind preventing me from finishing my thought. I glance down at my paper with my hastily written calculations “if self blood sacrifice can triple my magic output what would happen if I brought myself to the brink of death used the excess mana generated for a class s healing spell with enough leftover mana this purity rune I’ve been working on. “If all goes well this nasty blood magic business should be behind me.” In one quick motion I unsheathed my casting blade and without thinking drew it across my neck in one determined motion. My vision blurred at the edges my brain already alerting to the the lack of oxygen. My eyes glanced down at the pyre now completely covered in my blood. Something was wrong. The Phoenix flames should have lit the moment my blood touched the runes. I stumble side to side my hands now clasping at my neck trying to stall the inevitable. “I got this so wrong” I thought to myself my mind racing to the faces of everyone I ever had loved. I fall to my knees desperately trying to will my spell to work. Seconds later my muscles went fully slack and I fell face first onto the pyre one last emotion wisp-ping through my brain. DESPAIR. Then a magnificent golden flame roared to life consuming me entirely. I regain full consciousness but awoke in an endless void. “Clever” I heard from a loud voice that seemed to come from every direction. “Never did I think a human would figure out how to power a purity rune by becoming a martyr” the voice offered to the darkness. “I’ve never been much of a fan of blood magic. It usually powered violence against helpless things and it makes my stomach turn. Its also taboo to do self blood magic mostly because the ones that do end up disfigured quickly in exchange for short term power.” “So you thought violating the laws of nature was the solution?” The omnidirectional voice shrilly echoed. I pondered a response for a moment realizing that I’m dead either way “well yeah laws are made to be broken”. In that moment the black void began to coil in on itself, bringing me with it. Eventually the spaced warped into an old prohibition style bar. And my body unraveled coming to rest in a stool at the bar. The lively crowd erupted into cheers as I appeared. I glanced to my side to a muscular man raise his glass and say “welcome to the pantheon”. | I set up the candles in a perfect star, thanks to muscle memory. The curves of the outer circle were thankfully completely straight. Once I lit the candles, the runes I had traced in the earth in the blank spaces between the candle began to glow an almost sinister shade of red, a deeper crimson then blood.
I knew it was risky to experiment on one's self, but luckily I'm a vampire. I was able to track the bound woman in the pentagram's center with ease. If this worked...it would mean a never ending source of blood for a vampire, all they'd need is a captive.
I made the first cut, a long gash on her left arm, from her elbow to her wrist, making her cry out in pain. The blood quickly flowed out of the artery in the arm. I had to fight the urge to sink my fangs in, I had to do this right.
Runic magic circles appeared in my palms as I manipulated her blood. The glow intensified from my hands and the runes in the ritual formation, bathing the secluded clearing in a red light that was so dark it was almost black. As I tried to push the blood back into her arm, and will her skin to stitch itself back up, I realized it was no use. I should have known that her own blood couldn't heal her, it was impossible. Her skin paled as the blood drained from her.
I heard the snap of a twig and spun around, just in time to catch a glint of silver in the moonlight and step aside as a silver crossbow bolt embedded itself in a tree behind me with a thunk. | 2022-11-21T10:04:31 | 2022-11-21T07:38:44 | 36 | 14 |
[WP] Write a dystopian vision of the future from the perspective of the year 1900, while actually describing our present world today. | "I have seen it!" The man's voice cracked in the midst of the street. "I have seen the future, and it bears horrors beyond imagining! Beyond comprehension!"
One or two bypassers had stopped, looking interested at the new madman the city of Boston had gained; for he was respectably suited and bow-tied, with clean garments and polished shoes, nor did he bear the marks of any obvious ministry. A novelty, then, one that probably wouldn't last.
"Turn back! We must turn back! Turn back, I say, before it passes too late!"
"What horrors have you seen?" called a young man, tall and burly enough to have no fear of the man who shouted.
"I cannot, I cannot find the words for you - I saw, I understood, but I cannot speak of it in mortal tongue -"
"Cheap," the burly teen observed, and turned aside as though to go.
The shouting man opened his lips several times, as if in desperate reach of words. "I've seen..." He stopped again. "I've seen a world... *covered in molasses!*"
One of the other bystanders chuckled. "Ho, that's original for an apocalypse. An accident at the molasses factory, eh? You won't find that in the Book of Revelations."
"A world where nothing can be done for the first time!" The shouting man's voice rose further. "A world where," his voice cracked, "*being a hairdresser requires a license and two years' college!*"
"What?" said the burly young man, and the others simply looked puzzled.
"A world where the inventors' corporations spend more on patent disputes than on research! A world where welfare assistance programs start to phase out their benefits so early as to create implicit marginal tax rates nearing a hundred percent, locking people into poverty!"
A woman crossed herself. "What in Heaven's name is the man saying?"
"Dam'med if I know," her husband said; and she elbowed him in the ribs. "I s'pose there's a horror in an Armageddon that doesn't make sense."
As though his sanity had cracked and words spilled out through it, the wild-eyed man was now shouting one incomprehensible sentence after another. "A world where a new medicine costs one billion dollars to test, 'ere it may be sold to even the most desperate! A world where they pour their life-blood by the trillions into student loans, unwitting that the positional competition for prestige means the supply curve slopes but slightly upward with the price! And the rent, the rent, the rent is too damned high, for all the committees to be vaulted 'ere anyone can build a house!"
"Speaking in tongues?" an elderly woman whispered.
"A world where Republicans and Democrats alike are steeped in corruption, and voters go to the polls only for fear of the other party! Where first-past-the-post polling prevents any third party from beginning, for each individual voter is impelled to vote for one of the two larger parties by the belief that no third party can yet win! And with the government so locked in place, there is no help to be had for a tax system grown larger than a mortal could read in a hundred lifetimes! Coal burns to darken the skies and scorch the land, yet none can rebuild the liquid fluoride thorium reactors that were made fifty years agone; for the molasses, the molasses, the molasses has covered all!"
"I wonder who he was talking to," the elderly woman said, "before he went mad; perhaps it was a lawyer, for I've heard some of those words in the debates."
By now, at last, the white covered carriage of the asylum had arrived, and white-coated muscular men spilled forth to take the doomsayer in hand. He did not try to run, but submitted as though paralyzed, as though knowing it was all too late.
"Turn back!" he screamed, as they dragged him away. "Turn back, before there's none left who can even understand the problems! *Turn back!*" | 21st Century In-humanism
The clock struck 6 and the sun began to rise into the pale grey sky. Already the workers were off onto another day of servitude. Over the chrome city streets cameras stand like vultures recording every move in the grey rivers in which the people find themselves. The people pay no heed to the glimmering lenses above them for they have strange glass devices on their persons at all times. These glass screens allow them to access all kinds of information and send messages across vast distances and anyone who wants to be acceptable has one, even children. These glass screens and others like them, some of which are larger and stuck on walls or placed on desks, dominate the life of everyone. When they work they are inevitably staring at some form of glowing glass, and when they get home they find themselves staring at their personal screens until they rest only to stare at more in work later. They have little time for one another and wholesome activities; children are left in the care of uncaring pieces of metal and glass whilst parents stare at their own screens unaware. The screens provide little of value outside of work; they are a mere distraction, colourful lights that dull the mind of children and adults alike. Workers are kept like bees, working long unfulfilling hours for meagre wages for large capitalist powers that see them as livestock for the money making machine, and what little they earn will inevitably go back into the hands of the capitalist giants that will invariably be related to the glass screens. The world is entrapped by them; the people are addicted to them with strength unmatched by anything.
And the governments of the world stand by and do nothing for this state of affairs; the screens distract the populace and so the government is free to control its people however its sees fit. Terrible wars are waged across the globe and thousands die in fear. The war machine is so advanced that mechanical planes can operate with no pilot on board and then obliterate their enemies with bombs capable of destroying entire streets. Civilians in far of lands die in countless numbers to these mechanical weapons and yet people do not stop to care for some new pulp drama has appeared on their glass screens and their concerns, if they ever had any, are all dismissed. Furthermore the screens allow the powers to view the public with mechanical eyes that see and record anything. Unhappy with the cameras that stood sentinel on every building in every town that saw all public, the governments wanted more. The screens provided this; public actions became yet more scrutinised and catalogued by the powers but they provided a window into the privacy of every man’s home. They soon set to recording and filling the details of everyone they could for the hope they find an ‘Enemy of State’. The people do not mind being regarded as suspect ‘Enemies of State’ for they are distracted by their screens and the lies fed through them. Fake news tells them of the very real fake enemies that besiege them and the very real necessity for unneeded espionage. They huddle like ox, chewing their cud until they are beckoned off by their master to be culled for some untold reason.
The people of the distant 21st century are livestock to the wealthy and powerful. They are enslaved to them for work and told that they have it good and if they work hard they can have some more time looking at burning images emanating from a screen of glass and steel.
| 2015-12-19T10:18:54 | 2015-12-19T09:40:20 | 55 | 10 |
[WP] The Earth has been hit by a mysterious catastrophe which extinguished all flames and it is impossible to make a fire now. You are a heavy smoker who just found out that there is an active volcano far away. One last cigaratte before saying good bye to this world, you begin a long journey. | Fire is the crux of civilisation. It is flame that lets us preside over the world as arbiters of Earths destiny. It is from the cinders of flame that kingdoms, nations, and countries arose. It is the sputtering of burning fuel that allowed the conjunction of humans the world over. It is the embers that give us solace in their warm glow when the world seems nothing but cruel and cold. And ultimately it is to the ashes from whence we came, that we must return.
Fire has always been a best friend to us. It gave us indomitable power over the elements and the Earth. It lights our way when we sorely need guidance and refuge from the shadows of the night. It gives us warmth when the cold seems too much to bear.
So imagine - if you can- my surprise when reports came in of huge infrastructural collapse across the globe, citing the flames powering our modern world have been mysteriously snuffed out. Naturally, as is the case in any stressful situation, I immediately reached to my pocket and produced a packet of fine smokes and a lighter, yet to my bewilderment, my lighter would not ignite.
I leaned over the bar. "Hey barman, could I borrow your light please? Mine seems faulty." He looked at me for a moment. I maintained eye contact, cigarette hanging limply from my mouth. When he said nothing for a moment I asked "What?".
He chuckled then and said "I couldn't tell if you were joking. Haven't you heard? No ones lighters are working. Its all over the news... Fire doesn't work anymore." I stared at him. Fire doesn't work anymore? I had no idea what he meant... so I asked. "What do you mean fire doesn't work anymore?"
The bar tenders eyes narrowed, "Look man, all I know is that the only real fire thats left around here is that volcano a few miles East, I wish I could tell you more than that." Suddenly an idea flittered across my mind. I had to get to that volcano. The sweet relief of nicotine and the woody taste of fine tobacco beckoned me like a beautiful Siren song.
Forgetting to pay for my drink, I scrambled for my *electric* car, swerving, speeding, undertaking, overtaking as recklessly as required. I just really wanted a drag of my beautiful ciggies. I felt my skin crawl and itch with every moment that I wasn't puffing on that sweet tar residue. Finally I approached the parking area near the peak of the volcano. The ground here was ashen and the air was sooty and claustrophobic. But I didn't have time to regard my surroundings, I could see the welcoming glow illuminating the murky plumes of smoke that billowed from its peak. I clambered manically, wading through the ash. By the time I was at the top my skin was grey and my clothes were sodden with sweat. I felt my heart rattling in my ribs as my breathing pattern became erratic. This was in part due to the physical exertion, in part to the suffocating air and heat, and in no part due to the years of chain smoking prior.
I stared down into the nebulous torrent of molten lava. Each ripple and wave taunted me with its glowering glow. I began to descend into the crater. I would have my cigarette. Nothing would stop me now.
Suddenly a geyser-like sputter of liquid flame erupted from the bubbling lava lake and swatted me to the ground. My final thoughts were 'Maybe I should've tried vaping instead.' | We all need a guarantee. A guarantee that there will be joy at the end of the day. That no matter what happens, no matter how hard things are, no matter how deeply your mind digs into itself. a bedrock Of joy will be there. A bedrock hardened by its certainly. Now my bedrock is gone and things have never been harder. A hard world and a soft bedrock.
The first thing I did when everything shut off was to go outside. All the neighbors were gathered around a battery radio. They were saying it was a solar flare but the smokers were the first to get an idea as to what happened. Since the first thing we did, when the panic set in, was to calm down with a cigarette. I listened to hours of battery radio speculation over why it was now impossible for any fire on earth to occur.
The next day I must have walked kilometers out of pure agitation. Walking ever faster as the withdrawal sped up behind me. I encountered an old man on a rock. Somehow the old man knew what my bedrock was. Maybe it was the sweating, the shaking, or the pacing back and forth. He had a cigarette in his mouth and told me "take it out and inhale it unlit, it'll make you feel better" and it did. Staring up at the sky he said "if I were a younger man, I would climb Mount McCabe to light this fucking thing. Just one more is all I want. One more before the plunge"
"one more before the plunge" repeated constantly in my head as Mount McCabe came ever closer. I tried blocking it out because I'd never commit suicide but each repetition gave me comfort. The phrase became the only feature of my mind as I walked the featureless landscape, bouncing within the dimensions of my mind, eventually hitting each and every corner. I fought and fought against it but doing so only caused pain. A pain much more severe than the blisters, shin splints, joint pain, and hunger combined. I think I accepted the old man's directions by the time I reached the base of the mountain. It was a difficult climb made easy by the anticipatory pang of euphoria which followed each step.
By the time I reached the magma, the absence of a bed rock had resulted in a sinkhole. A sinkhole that swallowed the mind above it. The single magma lit cigarette I smoked made the journey all worth it. It was still too late though, without bedrock the mind above it fell into the magma below. My mind was magma. Each spewing tendril of magma was a repetition of the phrase. I can't say I have much hesitation to take the plunge. I am simply magma returning to where it belongs. | 2021-02-13T04:06:30 | 2021-02-13T03:27:55 | 234 | 39 |
[WP] When the zombie virus broke out, you were prepared. You quickly became the country's #1 zombie hunter - until science found the antidote to the virus that turns zombies into healthy humans again, retroactively making you the #1 mass murderer. | It's hard to stand. They gave me a suit, something far too starched and stiff to move around comfortably in. But the suit doesn't draw the eye from the glint of shackles on my wrists. They're scared of me. Of what they think I can do to them. I fought monsters for these people, the ones that cursed me and threw things as I was escorted into the building. I forged Swords, that I might be a shield for them. I risked my life, killing thousands of monsters, saving *human* lives. And somehow, at the end of it, *I'm* the monster.
"Mr. Stone, you are to give your weapons and any relevant schematics over to the custody of the United States government."
"Why?"
"...Why what, Mr. Stone?"
"Why give you the Sword systems? Why give you the schematics?"
"To protect the public. Do you know how much damage these things can ca--"
"Yes. I do. I used, them, remember? And I know how they can help, when this thing mutates and we start all over again. Taking the Sword system *away* from me does nothing. You know how many people needed help, protecting their cities? Defending their families from monsters with the faces of their lov--?"
"You know how many people will try to reverse engineer your technology, son? How many more people will lose families, not to a zombie, but to each other? I know you did good, kid, but it's over. We've got an antidote. A vaccine."
"Yeah. Covid *definitely* taught us people will trust vaccines. But I think you misunderstand me. Taking the Swords away from *me* does nothing. I dropped a thumb drive with schematics at every settlement I rescued. Everywhere it seemed another wave would hit. Everywhere there were *lives* to save. I couldn't be everywhere at once. I'm no super-man. I can't even claim to be a hero."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying America's people needed a Sword. And now they're in the hands of her people." | I'd be lying if I said that I can justify it to myself. That I could wash away the guilt by telling myself "I did the right thing", followed by a vodka chaser.
The same old comforting justification that I probably saved more lives than I took, winning fights with a bullet for the space in my head.
When the outbreak happened, we all learned the true nature of man. When they found the cure, I learned my true nature. Truth is, it was always about the money. I didn't give a damn about "Making the world safer."
But, there were worse ways to live. Some resorted to barbarism, banditry, or worse. 'Least I never took anything I didn't earn.
Like many others, I dirtied my hands for the sake of society. Now, the world lays their own guilt in those same blood soaked hands. Those who came to me for help, now calling for justice? It's almost laughable.
All good deeds erased. Marked as a killer, the bloodlust towards me by the victims families is magnitudes greater than any zombie I ever slayed. I still believe that one death can save many, but am I truly right? I may need to defend myself soon. | 2022-01-17T13:51:22 | 2022-01-17T13:05:49 | 99 | 43 |
[WP] A peaceful alien race is besieged by another race in the same galaxy. As their last planets fall and their home-world comes under threat they do the unthinkable. They ask for aid from the only known creatures more brutal than their foes in exchange for FTL technology. Humans accept the deal. | The human smiled playfully. "So if I understand you correctly. You will give us this FTL technology in exchange for our aid. All you ask of us is to cleanse your world of this Ashvell species, and remove this substance from your waters?"
"That is all," I said with a hoarse voice. We hadn't done much research on these creatures. All we knew was that they had yet to fly further than their own moon and that they may be our salvation. I stepped back as the human walked by me. He walked carelessly, holding the vial that contained the substance that could destroy my species.
Water. Yes, we thought it was water. The clear liquid that granted our planet the ability to sustain life. The Ashvell gave it to us as a simple offering, one of peace and prosperity. We had no reason to suspect the Ashvell of foul play. Would you? We had been on neighboring planets for thousands of years.
Cast Ozon had started to puke green bile moments after he had swallowed the substance. His elongated neck had melted within mere seconds. Our dear leader had died whilst still holding onto the glass. Before anyone had been able to react, the Ashvell had started their offense. Enormous cannons had sprayed our lands, our homes and our people with the poisonous substance. We thought it was merely water. The Ashvell knew it was not.
"You should not keep this substance in an unprotected vial," I said. Humans in white coats eyed me as I followed the human leader up a flight of stairs.
We entered what I assumed to be a living space. Why else would there be a sleeping platform in the center of the room? The human sat down and placed his legs on the sleeping platform, leaning backwards.
"What is your answer? We haven't much time! The Ashvell kill our younglings by the hundreds for every second I do not return."
"Has the United Nations made a decision?" The human spoke to the mirrored wall on the other side of room.
A face appeared on the wall. The human in the wall cocked an eyebrow. His gaze lingered on me. "You say that this liquid is poisonous to your species?"
A shiver ran down my spine. "Yes, it is. None of the species in our solar system are able to survive direct contact with this substance. We beg of you, please save us."
"And simply attaching the technology you wish to donate to us will enable faster than light travel for the vehicle it is applied to?"
"Yes."
The face disappeared and I could once again see my own reflection in the mirror. I turned to the human beside me. He was sniffing the substance, twirling the vial around as he did.
Then he drank it.
I stood there in disbelief. The human drank the most poisonous substance known to my people. I jumped back, afraid that his body would explode. A mere drop still in his throat could splash out at any second. A mere drop was enough to kill me outright.
Nothing happened.
The human smacked his lips and winked at me. "Twelve percent."
Behind me, I heard the oh so familiar booming of FTL-engines. The humans had accepted our offer. | "They shall have nothing." Was our Arbiter's words.
"They shall have nothing." Was the chant used by his followers to justify themselves.
"They shall have nothing." Was the truest statement uttered in the fifteen years of war.
The Hexams had won the war for all intents and purposes. All that remained was to capture our home of Glonia, and then our Confederacy of Peaceful Glonian Systems would be at an end. Our great civilization based on Science and Democracy would cease to exist.
So, rather than see our Confederacy annexed into the Hexam Dominion and given to some barbaric governor, our Arbiter and his followers decided "They shall have nothing."
Humans were the finest mercenaries in the Galaxy. They were highly intelligent, resourceful, and determined. It was hard to find a more staunch ally or fierce enemy than a human. It wasn't uncommon for various systems to hire human mercenary companies to tame a wild planet or to guard their space stations.
What the Arbiter wanted to do was much, much worse. Humans had been contained within their own system since shortly after their existence was made known to the other civilizations of The Galaxy. The Arbiter wanted to unleash them. Unleash them on a global scale, more than justtaking a few human mercenaries on board a ship, he *gave* the humans those ships, freeing them to spread like vermin across the galaxy.
The largest human faction on Earth (a polluted, over populated carbon based terrestrial planet), agreed to militarize and attack the Hexams on a scale never before seen, in exchange for this new technology. Nearly ten million human warriors (Of the Jarhead Clan, mostly) would destroy the Hexams entirely.
The only problem? "They shall have nothing." This was a scorched land tactic. Nothing could save our Confederacy. The Arbiter and his followers only wished to ensure that the Hexams were destroyed as much as we were. A queer sort of revenge. Give the humans free access to the galaxy, and it was only a matter of time before they ruled it all, polluted it all, and overpopulated it all.
I can only pray that the Great Forebears intervene and send the humans back to their world in ruins as they did so long ago. Maybe this time they won't repopulate and rediscover their desire to destroy and the technology to carry it out. | 2014-12-26T12:23:02 | 2014-12-26T11:03:12 | 70 | 10 |
[WP] You are an Olympic gold medalist in boxing. You’ve brought home gold for three different Olympics. One day, you wake up in an elevator. You are raised into a fighting ring, creatures you don’t recognize in the stands. A voice comes on overhead. “I bring you... earth’s finest warrior!” | **“I bring you... earth’s finest warrior!”**
I don't remember taking any drugs recently or drinking much - why am I in an elevator?
The door opens rather unusually - downwards. Red lights shine on me from the ceiling. In front of me is a hexagonal.. ring? I realize what has been said and stammer out: "Hey now, I'm not so good"
Alien creatures in stands surrounding the ring start wheezing and rumbling. It seems there's no way to talk this out. There's a second opening elevator opposite from the one I was in. I assume this is a death fight arena. And I'll have to fight. I hope they underestimate me - I don't exactly train to fight to the death.
Out of the elevator steps out some creature resembling a chicken. Like, a big chicken. It's probably 6 feet tall, must weight like 200 pounds as well.
I wonder - if I win, will they release me? I cannot place my bets on that. They'll probably sell or kill me. Why even try?
"Hey! Can I have a gun or like a spear?"
"**Why?**"
"I don't want to get my hands dirty"
"**Request accepted**"
A colt .45 materializes out of thin air into my hands. "Well, that was easy" I say and point at the chonky chicken. Just in time - it has been getting closer, eyes giving off a sense of bloodthirst. "This should be easy" I press the trigger.
\*click\*
\*click\*
\*click click click\*
I should've asked for bullets as well.. | [POEM]
As they took me out to space
And put me in the ring
They said to me "Just break the face
of that big slimy thing.
For you are Earth's finest man,
we know you are The One.
Your punches are the highest, man!
So come and get this done.
Go battle for your glory,
And make your planet shine.
Extend your winning story,
With your punches divine."
I said, "Now wait a minute,
you can't just make me fight!
My heart my head my spirit,
Don't feel completely right!
For everytime I'm in the ring,
I need my special balm.
I need my special lucky thing -
A kissie from my Mom ❤️" | 2020-09-08T08:26:58 | 2020-09-08T07:32:02 | 44 | 19 |
[WP] You are the dark lord in a fantasy world however you rule a fair and just kingdom you just like to look evil while doing it. | I stared down at the men levelling their blades at me. I spied several of the palace guard amidst the swelling ranks in my throne room. I turned to my head guard for assistance and was met his sword leveled at me.
"Really Hector? A coup? How bold." I smiled blithely down the blade before turning back to the crowd. "And Doctor Leach too? I didn't know you had it in you. And is that old Captain Hulm? Well, blow me... Come on the, do tell... Who was the mastermind of all this?" A pause hung heavy between us. "Don't be shy... I'm *impressed*." A short runt of boy was pushed forth, the crowd closing behind him. Separated from his legion he looked weak and weedy, clutching his sickle like his life depended on it. He probably thought it did. Poor kid.
"Dark L-lord Azimuth of Duskbridge. W-w-we come, ah, before you, to... ummm."
"I'll wait." I grinned. This only flustered the poor whelp even further. He looks back at the stonefaced mob behind him. He sighed, before raising his sickle and proclaiming,
"Dark Lord Azimuth, We have come before you to defend our rights as citizens and put an end to your tyranny."
"That's a noble sentient. I'd probably have been more worried if you *weren't* shaking like a leaf. A+ for effort though." I stand to gave him a round of applause. Everyone in the room tightened their grip on their weapons. "Oh, for godsake, lower your weapons. You'll have someone's eye out."
"We will not be mock, Azimuth." A voice boomed from the crowd.
"Me? Mocking? *Wouldn't dream of it*." I raised an eyebrow, "Now... what was it you wanted?"
"Your head on a spike and your tyranny gone from this land!" The same voice bellowed.
"My good sir, I do believe you're drunk. Now, anyone sober, what do you hope to gain from deposing me?"
I walked up to the head of the crowd. I leaned in closer. Long black robe trailing behind, I paced. "Anyone?"
"War."
I spun. It was Hector. "War, Hector? Why? To what end? Because you of all people know it's never war for the sake of war." I rolled my eyes. "It's because people *want* something. So I'll ask again. What *exactly* do you people want?"
"Freedom." It was the boy, his sickle hung limply at his side as he shrugged, almost like he wasn't sure of his motivation himself.
"Ok, freedom. Good. But freedom from what, exactly? What oppression do you know in your day to day lives?" I returned to my throne.
"Freedom from your evil tyranny."
"See, you keep using that word... Tyranny. You think me a *tyrant*? I am no such thing. A tyrant is one who rules with an Iron Fist over a domain he has no claim to. I do Neither. I have not been harsh on my people. I have been a merciful, dare I say kind, ruler. And as to claim, I inherited the crown from my father, he from his, he from his and he won it in a poker game from a man who inherited it from his. The crown and land are mine, because their previous owner said so. Look it up, I have a legal claim to all this land. I own all your homes, all your businesses, all your livelihoods and I could evict you if I so chose. But I don't. I don't even demand excessive taxes. I offer social welfare and state subsidised education. Does that sound tyrannical to you? What about the justice system? A fair trial to be judged by an impartial judge and a jury of your peers. I'd like to say that sounds just and fair, right? We don't even demand military service in exchange for your rights. Dear Gods, I'm almost *too* generous."
"You are an evil and wicked man!" The boy's voice wavered.
"Am I? Sorry, must have missed a memo. But what exactly do I do, or fail to do, that gives you justification to call me that?"
"You levelled three whole streets on Riverside just last week." He cried out.
"The housing was no longer up to standard and a drake infestation made the entire area a fire hazard. The citizens have been relocated."
"To the bone orchard." One of them muttered.
"No, to a community housing area in the northern quarter." I sighed.
"You allow, no, *welcome* Alchemists and Necromancers into your court."
"*Scientists* and *Medics*." I corrected.
"They're experimenting on corpses!"
"How else are they to study anatomy? I couldn't very well condone letting inexperienced medical students loose on *living* citizens, could I?"
"What about the way you dabble with black magic?" Yelled the drunkard from the back of the crowd.
"Not magic. Science."
"Your jester made a joke at your expense a few days ago, no one's heard from him since." Another called out.
"He came down with a nasty flu. Doctor Leach can back me up here. He's recovering, which is just as well. Things have been so very dull without him."
"You introduce yourself as Dark Lord Azimuth of Duskbridge, Dreadmaster of the Midknight Guard. Come on, admit it, you are Evil."
"The Title came with the crown. There are seven Dark Lords under the High King, and not one of them is tyrannical. Each of the seven darklands has a democratic consil, a social safety net and free health care. That's why its a *Dark* Lord, by the way, because I rule a Darkland. I can't just change name of my position."
"You... you..." they struggled for a justification.
Finally, "You, uh, wear... an awful lot of skulls for a, ummm, not-evil Dark Lord? All the crown jewls are skull shaped too. Your throne is decorated with them."
"That," I said, nodding sagely, "Is becase Skulls look *Awesome*." | *Be loved by a few but be feared by the many.* This is the maxim that had preserved the Mitgard rule for generations. To build an inner circle of the most powerful lords by fostering their love for you while inspiring fear in the many who follow.
A heavy silence smothers the crowd as their tyrant king descends on the square. Only one meets my gaze, Lord Ryke gives me a quick wink before taking on the mask of a subdued servant. Thirteen years prior, after a swarm of locusts brought famine upon the land. Lord Ryke, took the reigns of a fostering rebellions which wasn't content with the daily rations allowed for their families. A rebellion which was swiftly put to an end after the massacre of the iron hills.
Of course, there was no actual massacre. The soldiers which made up the personal fighting force of Lord Ryke were all transferred individually to far outposts that surround the borders of the kingdom. Each thinking themselves fortunate survivors who narrowly avoided the tragic battle. The only ones who died in the iron hills were the ring leaders who sowed discord from the start.
Today is a much smaller scheme but still a necessary reminder. I look down at the poet who dared recite verses in public which defame my name. He stares back in defiance. This, can not be allowed.
"Darik of Tynos," My voice booms across the square. "You are guilty of spreading treasonous lies and insulting the honor of me, your monarch. How do you plead?"
There is no hesitation in the man. "I plead guilty. Guilty for speaking the truth. I'd rather die with freedom than live without."
Looks of horror spread throughout the crowd but a few nod with approval. A few who will be remembered by my spies watching the crowd. I do not give any reaction to the bold mans words. Instead, I simply snap my fingers ordering my guards to bring forth the boy.
The poets eyes go wide with shock as they recognize the boy. "Sire!" He shouts in desperation. "My son has nothing to do with this! He is only a boy, please show mercy!"
How fast a man's determination will fade when his loved ones are threatened I muse. I continue to stare down in silence as the poet grovels at my feet. Finally, I offer the ultimatum.
"Mercy?" I ask with a blank expression as if this was the first time I had heard the word. "I thought you wanted freedom? Very well, I will give you both!" The crowd looks on confused, they were not expecting this. "I will give you the freedom to be merciful." I pause for dramatic effect then sweep my hand in a grand gesture to the horses nearby. "Either watch your son be dragged to death or both of you drink this vial of poison." I proclaim as I set the vial on the ground before him.
"No!" The man yells in a horrified voice. "Please you can't do this! I will do anything but please spare my son!"
After letting the man grovel and beg for another minute, I decide his time is up. "So you do not wish to choose mercy?" I ask. "Very well, tie the lad up. Let's be done with this."
"Wait!" The man yells in desperation. "I will drink the poison!"
I pause, considering whether to allow this. It is necessary to remind all of the power I have over them. "I will allow it." I say as I motion for the guards to release the boy.
The man's face is streaked with tears as he approaches his son, vial in hand. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He repeats as he forces half the vial down the frightened boys throat before downing the rest of it's contents himself.
For a moment, all is still. Then the two drop to the ground and convulse in agony before finally dying. There is anger in the crowd, but fear is the stronger. Those gathered have decent enough lives. As good as any king could provide for his people. They will not risk their own families for a stranger.
Later that night I sit in my study as I hear a knock at my door. A man and a boy enter. I smile up at them, "How are you feeling my friends?"
"I got an awful crick in my neck" The man complains with an easy smile. "Damn potion made me pass out in a rather uncomfortable position."
"Did I do well, Sire?" The boy asks energetically.
"Yes, you did very well." I chuckle as I stroke the boys hair. "Morren was right, you show promise lad."
Turning more serious, I look back to my spymaster. "I wish I could give you more time to rest but I have an urgent assignment for you. Are you familiar with the plague in Liam?"
"Of course, my men speak of hundreds of refugees fleeing towards the capitol. They should arrive in 2-3 days."
I nod solemnly. "I want you to take whatever funds from my treasury as necessary to see they are provided for. However, make sure the aid comes from the church. Not from me." A church which is loved by the people but still vehemently supports my divine right to rule. After all, I do have a reputation to keep.
The spymaster and his apprentice see to my demands as I look back down on upon my city. A city which fears me as a tyrant but I love as a father.
| 2017-06-12T11:17:27 | 2017-06-12T10:42:22 | 29 | 13 |
[WP] You are a supervillain named The Keymaster. Instead of creating grand plans to conquer the world, all you do is run around and free other captured supervillains from prison, after the superheroes defeat them.
Edit: Thanks for the frontpage! | "Aw jeez," I thought to myself, "Which one is it?"
I jingled through the mass of keys attached to the Keymaster's Ring: a ring about 6 inches in diameter crowded with master keys to most of the planet's prisons.
"I should probably organize this thing, huh?" I nervously laughed, a bit flustered and hoping The Cryomaniac wouldn't immediately freeze me once I set him free from his cell. Some supervillain I was, always afraid of the guy I'm trying to set free.
"Yeah..." He replied absently, clearly getting a bit frustrated with my fumbling around.
A few minutes and many keys later the heavy iron lock opened with a loud clank.
"Ah, there we are!" I said, trying to act like I knew what I was doing (I didn't), "and here is your Freez-o-Ray from the armory, you should be all set." I handed him the ray-gun and flashed him the double thumbs up in a weak attempt at camaraderie. It had taken me 20 minutes to find the right key for armory, which I immediately lost on the key ring upon entering the armory, resulting in 20 *more* minutes of looking on the ring once I got to his cell.
"Great," He said, clearly not thinking I was great, "thanks a lot, uh..."
"Keymaster," I supplied, holding up the key ring and pointing to it.
"Right, Keymaster. As repayment for setting me free, do you have any requests for who I should target next for Cryolimination? A specific person, perhaps, or a group of people?"
Now, this was the part of my job that I *lived* for. The Cryomaniac's question set ablaze a fire in my eyes; igniting an inferno of hate in my soul that burned me to my very core.
"Just one request." I answered slowly, in a voice of newfound weight that can be heard in the voice of one speaking directly from the mouth of their maker.
"Yes, anything." He sounded a bit taken aback.
*"The Locksmiths."* | This world is small, fighting is futile, goals are pointless, we are meant to progress through evolution, till our planet's resources deplete, and we die. Some desire chaos, to become the king, the owner of this small, innocent planet. Some desire protection, to be the defenders of this small, innocent planet.
Why, what's the point of feeling pain? What's the point of fighting, to be part of the two way street, you don't need to go anywhere.
They call me, The Keymaster. Strange one to be called, let me explain. Fighting is boring, fighting doesn't make you feel good, you know what I mean? What's the point, the heroes will try to win, the villains will try to win, it's an endless cycle, it doesn't matter if you're the strongest villain in the world, there'll probably be a hero to match you. There's always some damn, bullshit balance.
When the villains lose, I enter, when they are locked behind bars, I free them, that's why I'm The Keymaster. I avoid confrontation, I avoid arguing, I free them, and disappear. That's all there is to it.
And you may wonder, why the villain side?
It's because it's fun to free the villains.
| 2017-03-11T19:52:24 | 2017-03-11T18:05:50 | 71 | 16 |
[WP] you realize you're the black guy in a horror movie. survive at any cost. | Cassandra knelt over her boyfriend's body, discovered in a quiet glade near the cabin. "Oh, god! MIKE!" She grabbed his shirt collar and tried to lift him up, as if he just needed to walk off that massive stab wound in his chest.
"It's no good, Cassie!" I pulled her up and tried to hustle her back to the cabin. She seemed frozen in place.
"How did this happen??"
I shook my head. "I don't know!" It had all happened so fast. "We were out here looking for Sandy. The car door was open and the light was on." I gestured over to the garage. "And then we heard a scream out here, and Mike went running off..."
Cassie was still staring down at him. This trip was supposed to be for their three-year anniversary, and now....
"We need to get to safety, Cassie." I tugged her arm toward the cabin. "You saw the message!" Scrawled in blood (presumably Mike's, or maybe Sandy's) across the cabin's front door was a message, indicating that Cassie was the one he was after. She followed, eyes never leaving Mike's corpse.
We made it inside and slammed the door shut, sliding the lock into place. "All right." I tried to catch my breath so that I could slide the heavy bookshelf in front of the door. "No one else goes out, for *any* reason, OK?"
Kevin was still holding his bong in one hand, a bag of cheetos in the other, and his eyes were the size of saucers. Now was *certainly* not the time for a bad trip (or the munchies) but there wasn't much I could do about that now. He was a goner, anyway. I don't even know how he managed to get into the group in the first place. I was guessing he'd die next. The quirky outsider usually did.
"What is it?" Melanie sobbed. Even in terror and grief, she was squeezing her breasts together to make her cleavage bigger. Did she *know* what she was doing, or had she been the slut of the group so long that she just did it subconsciously now? Her death would likely be right after Kevin's .
"It killed Mike!" Cassie blurted out. Melanie gasped so hard that another button popped off her shirt, which only caused Kevin's eyes to grow even wider. Cassie hadn't really known what was going on between Melanie and Mike, but I certainly did.
"Kevin, I need you and Melanie to go look down in the basement and make sure that none of those windows are unlocked, OK?" He was too high to do anything but nod. He descended down into the darkness to find a lightswitch, and I heard Melanie's heels clicking on the stairs after them. I almost felt the slightest bit guilty about sending them to their deaths like that.
"Hey, Cassie..." She was sobbing on the couch into her hands, so I walked over, sat down next to her, and put my arm around her shoulders. "Listen: I'm going to protect you, OK? No matter what, I'm here for you."
She sniffled and leaned her head on my shoulder, still crying. But she managed to smile for just a moment and looked me deep in the eyes. "Thanks, Sam. You're a good guy, you know that?"
I brushed a stray strand of hair off of her cheek and grinned back. I could practically hear the sweet string instruments of the soundtrack playing.
-----
"That's it?"
We stood over the demon's body and watched its rotten skin dissolve into dust right before our eyes, leaving only a warped skeleton. I still held the bloody machete in my hand that I'd used to hack its head off right as it was about to kill Cassie once and for all.
I nodded. "We did it, Cassie."
She wrapped her hands around my waist. "Sam, I don't know what to say..." Her voice grew soft, and she batted her eyelashes as she went in for a kiss.
"Whoa, whoa..." I pushed her back a bit. "Listen, I'm just not into you like that..."
Cassie seemed dumbfounded. "But back in the cabin, when you kissed me..."
"Yeah. Then it was about *survival*. I'm actually gay."
"But after it got Melanie, and you went outside... before you left, you told me you loved me..."
I scoffed. "Please. That was just part of the script, I'm sure. We all know that the only way a brother survives this type of scenario is when he's the love interest too." | "Fuck. This."
Those were his first thoughts after being roughly woken in the middle of the nigh by screams and viscerally wet tearing sounds, which soon turned to laughter.
They were camping at Haunted Bluff, which wasn't actually haunted. He checked. He was also prepared. Holy water in the bag, rock salt circle around his bag (covered by a tarp, duh!), and other several anti-haunting accouterments.
His hand hovered over one... But... It seemed like a false alarm. He mentally went through his checklist.
A) Only African American/Brotha/dark skinned male: Check. Damn.
B) creepy setting with appropriately named location, just begging for horror to walk right in like it's at home: check. Double damn.
C) not observing proper etiquette, especially in being respectful to the host park, locality, and persons, supernatural or otherwise: Yep, we're fucked.
He walked into camp. The rest were all there. Mike, his girlfriend Marty; Jonesy and his boytoy Kevin; Ra'schell, supposedly his girlfriend, but actually a closet lesbian with Marty. He knew, but neither Ra'schell not Marty didn't know that he knew. He was okay with it, cause he was a decent human being, and it really seemed like they loved eachother. Family promblems aaaaand.... Dammit. It was aaaaaall waaaaaaay too convenient. He looked around.
"Aight y'all. I can see what's happening. We're at the beginning of the horror movie."
The rest scoffed
"Yeah right, man!" Yelled Mike, slightly intoxicated.
He smiled. Looking at each of them. All six of them sitting around the fire. He looked at the last one.
"Aaaah, so you're the one. Well, if you're here to start the fun, I need to ask you a few things." The figure stiffened. All eyes widened, and everything went silent. The figure turned it's hooded head towards him.
"We followed all the correct channels to come camp here for the night. State, local federal, the crazy priest up by the apple tree; Hell, I even asked the local river if it was cool. Not much crazier than trying to talk to the river. And everyone said it was okay. But here you are. Obviously, we fucked up somewhere along the way, or you're completely random, or new. If this is your land, we are guests, and while we apologize. None of us have yet violated guest right. If this isn't your land, and you attack us, YOU violate guest right, and bad things happen. Even if you somehow get around it: I. Will. Survive. Then a million angry black men will rise like the sun. We will not rest, not morning, noon, nor night, til we find and destroy every last vestige of your horror. Clear?"
The hooded figured rasped a laugh.
"And how will you do that if-"
A gurgled scream was brutally choked off.
He pulled another stake out, put it through the head, dumped some holy water on his hand to wash the stain away, then pulled a flare gun out.
Mike looked at him, all traces of intoxication gone. "Sorry to make you get up, man. I probably should of handled it."
He grinned. "Don't worry about it. I was going to get up to pee anyway. Can't really so that alone, now can I." He laughed, Mike laughed, and Marty laughed, Kevin and Jonsey laughed, Ra'schell laughed, the tree to their left laughed, something in the foliage to their right laughed. And he pointed the flare that direction, and pulled the trigger. "Gonna be a damned long night." He pointed the flare gun up, firing a second flare, as the horse-inhuman screaming started. | 2016-04-18T08:21:19 | 2016-04-18T06:57:32 | 235 | 92 |
[WP] Adolf Hitler is a time traveler who starts world war two to save us from something far more terrible. | *Writing this is not so that some future person can discover me and hail me as a hero. It is simply for the purposes of keeping me sane and on task. I pray no one finds this, as I have instructed all of my bodyguards to destroy any trace of it upon my death.*
They are not to read it, under penalty of death.
*I will start at the beginning, which ironically enough, is the end of the world.*
I was born into a rich family in Anchessla, what was southern Germany.
Rich meant we had a bunker which we almost never left.
My family was killed when our bunker was overwhelmed by a horde.
I ran and joined the Resistance. I fought in several battles including the Fall of London bay and was on the front lines fighting off the hordes on their U.S. Eastern Invasion.
We lost both of those battles.
But what we did gain was knowledge.
We had found out what had made the hordes what they are. We found out what technology was needed for them to function.
I was chosen to go because I was the only one who spoke German as my first language there.
And so I traveled back to stop an infestation and an extermination.
I kept my name, meaning it to serve as a beacon to my comrades in case I failed.
Regardless of the outcome of my mission, the name Adolf Hitler would go down in history. I just prayed it would not go down as a failure to do what needed to be done.
I was a young man when I was sent back, I had forged some documents to fake my identity and set up shop as an egotistic painter, bent on fame.
Becoming involved in politics in a land where people are starving on the streets was harder than expected. I went to different rallies and tried to talk about providing for the needs of the hungry and unity that we all possessed as mankind. I was largely ignored until I lost my temper at a rally of a political group called the nazis.
They were radicals in every sense of the word. They used Jews as a scapegoat for the problems Germany faced and seemed to be determined to rid the land of them.
And that is when my plan became clear.
There were several men who needed to be killed in order to stop the future events from happening; mostly scientists receiving funding from the Soviet Union, the greatest power of the time, to attempt to improve physical and mental human characteristics.
We had sent back an assassin to kill them already, but they had all simply been replaced. We could not kill every genius.
What we needed was a way to make the human experiments done by the Soviets seem unjustifiable. We needed martyrs.
The Soviets had taken any homeless and used them for experiments and all other countries, fearful of being left behind in technology and already being left behind economically, followed suit.
And what surfaced from this was the Russian Supersoldier. At first, the Supersoldiers conquered. But then came the virus.
It was most likely actually a bacteria but the Supersoldier Virus had already caught on by the time we had discovered that.
Supersoldiers mutated and what was a Russian occupation of much of Europe turned into death of millions. The Supersoldiers seemed to still be semi-intelligent, but had few instinct left.
How to survive, how to reproduce, and how to kill.
Russia had already made 8 million of them by the time the virus hit. And instead of stopping their production, they simply pumped more soldiers at them. The Russians had also, unfortunately, made a serum which could transform any man into a Supersoldier simply through injection, and had been doing this with occupied countries. Soon, the infected Supersoldiers figured this out. That was in 1976. The whole of Europe was taken by 1980.
I took control of the Nazi party, and through hate-mongering and sabotage, took control of Germany.
And then I did what needed to be done.
I pulled Germany out of the depression and turned her into a superpower. I took other countries, prodding for a fight to take down my regime and see what was really going on.
I hired the scientists the Soviets would have hired and put them to work on curing the "Jew" problem. Now, instead of creating Supersoldiers with genetic experiments, they were killing innocent victims; many who would become martyrs, preventing human tests like this from being continued by someone else.
When war finally came, I made sure it seemed as if I would win.
And then I made a second front. I attacked Russia in the winter, making the oldest mistake a dictator could.
I lost. It was perfect. And now, knowing my mission is almost complete, I through this into the fire and end my life, and all of its secrets.
I am Adolf Hitler. Killer of Millions and Savior of this Earth.
Edit: I wrote this in a bit of a rush, so I'll probably come back and edit to for improvements.
Part Two now up http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/1zdrxb/wp_adolf_hitler_is_a_time_traveler_who_starts/cfto9uk | Jesus this is brilliant!
What if Adolf's life was a misery.. he, his family and his culture were under huge oppression from the Wasserman rule. By the year 2314 they controlled the media as far as the US - this one family dictated more than the Roman Empire ever dreamed of.. without breaking borders. It was all about doing business, and doing it well. A few million here and there would ensure that a town worked for the Wassermans.
In Adolfs youth he slaved for the Saunders, a wealthy jewish family who were personal friends of the Wassermans. Washing their cars, cooking their meals and walking their pets. He earned no living, but instead was paid in food (which was mostly passed on, to his family).
Cut a long story short, he has the ~~house~~ mansion to himself one day and decides to wander around. He had never been in the discretionary side of the place, since he only really went from the front door, to the kitchen and back.
In a side room, displayed with spotlights around it, was a gleaming structure. It looked like a portaloo, that had been through 'Pimp My Space-Ride'.
He cautiously grabbed the door handle and it popped open with a satisfying spring. For some reason, cheesy dry ice smoke was pouring out of the capsule.
Above the structure, Adolf could make out the words "Time Machine". He could barely read, so it took a minute. It instantly hit him.. this was one of the legendary time machines that the Jewish people had boasted about.
His mind jumps to a million things at once, but it doesn't take long before he lands on the jackpot. He wants to end the Wasserman's rule over the world. They owned every damn government and ever damn business he could think of. He couldn't just skip forward in time and leave his family behind though.. besides, what if things got worse?
If he went back, he'd have to plan it carefully. He couldn't just go back and wave his arms about screaming "They're going to rule us all!" like a mad man on the street.
It struck him that he should go back to a time, in which the Jewish people were less than popular. When the innocent and the horrible were all bordering on second class citizens simply for being Jewish. He recalled the Saunders mentioning such a time, on many an occasion. They would curse anybody who was against them, even if they were long dead. Adolf was very sure that it was just before the millenium, definitely before the internet came along and created a level playing field.
So on more of a hunch than a real shot, he turned the dial back to 1900. It seemed like a safe bet, and either way he was getting out of here.
Sure enough, he arrives in a desolate era in Germany. He enlists in the army to gain some sort of identity without skills.
Before too long though, after the First World War, he sought after politics. He began rallying the citizens of Germany behind him, using simple and common knowledge about psychology from the 2300s. Using the turning around of the financial depression, Adolf Hitler became a hit among the right wing germans.
Then.. he set on his real plan. He didn't know who to get rid of first! There must've been millions of Jewish people in and around Germany that could be the great grandfathers of the Wassermans. He knew though, that if he succeeded, then he wouldn't exist in the 1900s anymore, since the time machine wouldn't exist.
After tactfully murdering numerous families, he felt that time was running out. It was now or never.. and as such, the final solution came to be.
Adolf Hitler did not kill so many innocent people out of hatred for them, but love for a better future. One day, at the very end of it all, a true descendant of the Wasserman family was put to rest. Adolf was no more, and nor was the regime that he stopped.
He wasn't to be remembered as a hero, only a vicious villain.
*****
None of this is to say that what happened during WWII was actually an act of heroship and that Hitler wasn't out of his mind. | 2014-03-02T16:11:22 | 2014-03-02T15:40:41 | 443 | 16 |
[WP] For the entirety of your life, music that only you can hear has played to inform you how to feel and warn you of upcoming events. Suddenly "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" cuts out and "Duel of the Fates" begins to play... | Alright, this one is _insanely_ difficult to write without going into massive freaking spoilers for a story that deserves to be unspoiled, but I'll try. Shoutout to r/ZeroEscape and to Kotaro's insane masterpiece that inspired this!
...
For as long as I remember, my mind could hear it.
The music. The soundtrack of my feelings that no one else could hear.
Sometimes, it would predict events to me and warn me about an upcoming danger. Other times, it would make my happiness even better. Still other times, it was little more than a nuisance. _No, I don't want to listen to horror music every time I need to go to the toilet really fast._ Thanks a lot, mental playlist, it's very appropriate, but very annoying at the same time.
The playlist reacted directly to my present and near-future emotions, not to events. This means I also heard it whenever I reacted strongly to anything fictional or was _about_ to react strongly. Very convenient to have your own, perfectly timed soundtrack for any good book that you read. Not so convenient when the work already has its own soundtrack. It wasn't a direct dissonance, for some reason, so eventually I learned to split my attention between the two, but it took a while.
... one day, I downloaded _it._ An unassuming ROM for a DS emulator. A story that would soon move me on a level I didn't even know existed.
9 Hours. 9 Persons. 9 Doors. A cult hit that never sold as well as it should. And now, I was part of the problem. Dammit, I _really_ should just buy it properly whenever I'm able to if I want to support the creators!
My mental playlist went wild almost as soon as the game started, competing for attention with an already brilliant score by Shinji Hosoe. Wait, holy crap, what could possibly make me feel _that_ strongly?
I didn't know until I found _it._ The true end. The finale to end all finales.
"He knew because _I_ knew."
... wait, what? _What?_ ***WHAT?!***
The whole time, the narration was...
Oh. My. God.
... they're running away, aren't they? Don't-no, forget the doll, run, run, ru-NOOOOOOOOOOO!
_He took her._
Shit.
And now my mental playlist has decided to torment me even further with "Somewhere Over The Rainbow". Quite appropriate, really. Poor girl isn't getting out of here just yet. The story is going to twist the knife as much as it can until the resolution... whatever it is.
"I can only hope that incinerator never turns on."
I kept reading and reading and reading, choking back sobs with every new bit of information. No, no, no, don't die, don't die, don't die, _don't die..._
Aaaaaaaaaand my mental playlist changed again. Great, what is it this time?
_Oh._
Something epic was about to happen. "Duel of the Fates" meant either something dangerous or something uplifting. Since I was simply playing a videogame, it was probably the latter.
The classic puzzle intro sequence flashed before my eyes. The same that plays before each puzzle in the game.
"SEEK A WAY OUT!!"
That was when the song hit its stride.
The game proper had its own soundtrack, too. It was something incredibly sad. No matter. I normally split my attention equally towards both, but not this time -- I was already close to crying buckets and these simple, synthesized tones were just too much. Speaking of which, did the game just make me feel this much _stuff_ over what looks like a sudoku puzzle? And a fairly simple one, too? Sure, in-context I'm saving someone from burning to death, but still...
I let my mental playlist fully take over, with "Duel of the Fates" blaring on repeat louder than anything imaginable.
I stared at the puzzle before me and knew one thing with absolute certainty. _I can do this._ | The past few weeks have been extremely boring. Normally while out on patrol we get fired upon or at the very least the kids will throw rocks at our convoys. It seems like the worst of the combat is over.
Its been so quiet here Command is even considering pulling us out and moving to the next hostile village.
16 hours on patrol a day. I'm a soldier for Christ's sake. I can't get this serene bullshit music out of my head. I can't start going soft. I need action, I need to [earn] my pay. I honestly don't even know where I heard this music from, but its been stuck in my head for weeks.
Patrols go on without any issues. Just going through the village, watching the locals go about their daily business buying and trading fruits and vegetables. The children trying to sell us ripoff DvD's. I can't believe I'm getting combat pay for this.
I may seem ungrateful for the peace but I'm really not. I woke up this morning and that stupid song is gone. I can't even remember what it was anymore. Today, it was just nothing. Silence.
We go out on our daily patrol as always, things seem off. The bustling market is quiet. I haven't seen anyone since our patrol started. I'm starting to feel uneasy, I'm not sure what it is but I think something is going to happen today.
The eerie silence is interrupted by something far, far more eerie. What is this song? I've never heard it before. It almost sounds like a warning; a warning that something bad is coming.
I turn to my squad-mate, he looks pretty out of it. I thought only I could hear this music but from the look on his face he must hear it too, or at least something similar. He looks like he's ready to drop his rifle and start running back to base.
The whole squad out on patrol is freaking out. We're not sure whats going on. None of us are in shape to finish this patrol. I'm calling command, I'm going to fall back to base, but before I do I hear a new sound. Its not music anymore, but it sounds just as familiar. Is... Is it whistling?
I realize what this whistling sound is but its already too late. I have just enough time to yell to my squad "INCOMING!!!!!"
By the time I got the words out of my mouth I feel a concussive blast hit me. It feels like I've been hit with a baseball bat. I turn to my next-in-command but he's gone. All thats left is a fiery hole where he was standing and some shreddings of his equipment.
Its my job to get us out safely, but I can't even hear whats going on. This damn racket in my head is so loud I can't even hear the mortars exploding or my soldiers screaming in pain.
I'm sorry I seemed ungrateful for the peace. I'm sorry I seemed ungrateful for that damn serene song. I wish I could have that damn annoying song back right now. | 2017-04-01T22:23:40 | 2017-04-01T22:03:03 | 48 | 35 |
[WP] At the same moment, every single person on earth sees a blinding light and hears the words, "In 10 seconds, you will be granted one wish. 10... 9... 8..." | "In 10 seconds, you will be granted one wish."
*What?*
"10.."
*Okay, uh..shit. Probably fake but thoughts don't hurt...*
"9..."
*Ah, okay, that'll do it.*
"8..."
*Best anyone can wish for really.*
"7..."
*Wish I had someone wish this for me when I was younger, to be honest."
"6.."
"5..."
"4..."
"3..."
"2..."
"1..."
#I WISH THAT FOR ONE HOUR, EVERYONE ON EARTH KNOWS PRECISELY THEIR EXACT MAXIMUM POTENTIAL AND HOW TO GET THERE, INCLUDING THE MOTIVATIONAL FEELING TO DO SO.
"0... Wishes granted."
I then transformed into a sentient rat. Apparently someone wished I became a rat, perhaps.
I scurried outside, and saw everyone in my town was a furry animal of some sort.
As thoughts of how to be the best rat I could be flooded into my head, I cursed
"BLOODY FURRIES!" and then was promptly eaten by an owl, who by the remains of her clothes trailing off her talons was likely the kid who lived down the street who was mad about bird watching. | "I wish for all wished money to be monopoly money."
As the world thunders in indignant rage, I smile and go my merry way.
**The End**
*********
"The End" was not part of the original story, but the original was removed because it was one word short of the required 25. What a bunch of crock. | 2015-04-04T10:07:51 | 2015-04-04T09:34:13 | 23 | 15 |
[WP] Every year, Valve attempts to publish Half-Life 3, but incredible coincidences keep it from happening. | Item #: SCP-8322
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: Due to the relatively unknown nature of SCP-8322 extra precautions should be taken to contain this object. At the moment SCP-8322 exists in the code of the Valve game "Half Life 3". As this work is digital and there are near-infinite copies of it, SCP-8322's containment procedures are somewhat unprecedented. As it stands, The Foundation will do everything in their power to ensure that SCP-8322's carrier is not released to the public. So far we have delayed release through various means including restraint of high-level Valve officials (Valve president "Gabe" has been very elusive), hostile takeover of Publishing companies, and systematic eradication of any copies found by Foundation spies in Valve operations. Ideal containment procedures would be to simply delete all copies of the code but our attempts have been unsuccessful.
Description: SCP-8322 is a phenomenon associated with Half Life 3, a video game that Valve is attempting to publish. SCP-8322 is known to manifest itself in all copies of the games code and a full release of Half Life 3 would ensure the widespread epidemic of 8322.
SPC-8322's primary anomalous effect manifests when the game code is read by any computer system including PC and game consoles. Mac operating systems appear to be widely unaffected. Exposed individuals become obessed with the idea of playing Half Life 3 for hours on end resulting in weight gain, sight loss, chair cushion deflation, acute procrastination, and devalued ambitions. SCP-8322 infectees have been noted to munch voraciously while ~~eating~~ playing and consume more soda than is recommended by doctors.
SCP-8322 came to the Foundation's attention on [REDACTED] when one of the Foundations operators had the opportunity to playtest Half Life 3 and found themselves unable to do anything else for the majority of their days off.
| "Everything is ready, you want to hit the button?" Chris' voice echoed slightly in the huge server room.
"Upload Half Life 3 to the world? Duh, of course I do." Sarah swung her chair over and smiled at Chris. Six years they'd waited for this day, preparing the server infrastructure for the big upload. She smiled and slipped her hand over his. "Together. Three, two, one..."
Nothing happened, Chris hammered the button a few more times and then realised it had hung. He swung to another screen and his mouth dropped. "It's... Gone."
"What do you mean?" Sarah shot back, but he was already up and running for the door. She sprinted after him.
Before the door could fully shut behind them a hand caught it and pushed it open, slipping into the room. The person pulled a small device from the back of one of the computers and held it carefully. "This can never be. The world was not ready."
Slowly fading into impossibility the old Gabe disappeared from history, along with the last copy of his game. | 2014-11-01T20:21:26 | 2014-11-01T18:52:19 | 698 | 80 |
[WP] A generation ago humanity faced an extinction level catastrophe. In response, the world's governments lifted all legal, moral, and ethical bans on scientific research in a desperate attempt to overcome the danger. You now live in a world dealing with the consequences of this.
Wow! Great responses everyone. I was eagerly looking forward to my breaks at work all day so that I could read up on the new ones. | In 2020 the world was rocked by the outbreak of the Jericho epidemic. In a 2 year span more than 4 billion people died as a result of the infection. Those affected by the disease often had no idea until it was too late. The disease went through several mutations while the infected progressed through a series of different symptoms. First you got the sniffles and the occasional nose bleed. This was the air born strand of the virus, catching it this way meant you had somewhere between 6 and 9 months to live. Of course everyone assumed they had a common cold and so the virus spread like wildfire. About six weeks after the infected contracted the disease it mutated and symptoms became more pronounced and painful; dizziness and confusion began and people would spike high fevers. If you were unlucky enough to make direct contact with the infected at this point you could expect to live for roughly another 3 to 4 months. Well the disease progressed and evolved a few more times so that by the time the first wave of humanity began to die from it, it was simply to late to contain it. Governments began to panic as ever increasing populations began to succumb to the disease. In a desperate scramble to find a cure all bans on ethical treatment were discarded. It became the single most expensive venture in human history and there was nobody who wasn't affected. Public media fueled the fires by increasing the panic among the populace. Charlatans provided cures ranging from charms and ointments that would protect and prevent the wearer from catching the virus; all the way up to leeching the blood and ingesting cocktails of chemicals and poisons that provided absolutely no effect. It wasn't long before quarantine measures were imposed and curfews were set in nearly every populated area of every nation in the world.
A Swiss biological engineering team began to experiment with super viruses and the effect they might have in combating this plague. There was no significant proof that they were successful, but they did manage to kill several patients and some recently declassified documents suggest that perhaps they even made the infection stronger with some of their attempts.
The Indian Medical team developed a homeopathic treatment that was adopted by many eastern countries. This proved to be a very poor choice and the body count began to escalate. It seems that nothing in nature was prepared to cope with this outbreak.
It wasn't until a team of Western doctors amalgamated that the first signs of hope began to appear. They theorized that if gene splicing was used to artificially develop antibodies in a host and given a boost with both radiation treatments and nano technology there may be a fighting chance. It took some tinkering to get the dosages right, and to figure out the proper order to provide these treatments, but eventually they cracked that nut and proclaimed they had found a cure. By first exposing the patient to radiation and eliminating the existing immune system, they would then introduce a large dose of genetically altered spinal fluid and nanobots to rebuild the system. The treatment was made globally available on August 23 2023 and the population was eager for the treatment. Nearly all of humanity received the treatment over the next year. It wasn't until two years after that that we began to see the side effects emerge. Sterility was the first and possibly most obvious effect, we nuked the reproductive organs when we fried our immune systems. Then there were the psychological effects caused by the mutated spinal fluid. Some people became very intelligent and began to attain mild telepathic abilities, others suffered from enlarged glands and hormone producing portions of the brain. This lead to an increase in violence and discrimination as people began to take on different mutations.
It is now 2046, and the world still struggles to rebuild. It wasn't easy since most of the population was rendered sterile from the treatments. All children are now born in special fertility centers where the sperm banks of the past have provided the building blocks for our continued existence. The children produced in these labs are guarded at all times to ensure they reach sexual maturity so that a broader genetic pool can be used to increase the population.
Although the virus has been eliminated for a generation, most countries still haven't reinstated the bans on unethical research and treatment. Some of the more intelligent of the modern mutated man have taken to doing experiments on the next generation of children in an attempt to continue the line of mutant man. They know that in the next 30 to 40 years mutants will be all but extinct and they want to preserve what they feel is the next evolution of life on earth. Jericho was the first plague, what we have done to ourselves since then is much worse. Humanity no longer exists, we are beasts and slowly a new social system is being formed. I remember what it was to be a man, but all I see when I look in the mirror is a monster; it might have been better if I had just allowed myself to die. This is not the world I thought I would leave behind when I died. | My name... My name is... Was.... Mark. They have had us here for quite a bit. The plague. Something about it. They said the disease changed too quickly and every time a vaccine was created, the disease adapted. The people from first gen didn't even look like people anymore. I'm pretty sure they can't even think anymore. They're just creatures now with nothing but an urge to kill. Their bones morphed and changed from this disease. They had claws. Claws! God, the sound of them cutting through the concrete walls of their cells. I could swear that the fifth prison was gonna be the one that held them. A special mix of concrete, steel, and diamonds. You couldn't even run a tank through the wall. They just sliced right through it. We tried killing them though. We normally just shoot people if they show signs of infection. It's the best bet. Most scientists and millionaires boarded craft and either live in space or on massive floating cities in the ocean. We didn't get that privilege. Instead we got stuck with clean up. Flamethrowers, 50cal machine guns, and as many grenades as you can throw. Gen two and gen threes usually just need two grenades. Gen fours to Gen nines can just be shop with the 50Cals and burnt up. It's all fun and games until the UCP, United Contamination Police, show up. They grad people up and drag them to labs. This is where I am right now. They locked us up in a giant room. Very bright with grey walls with odd looking symbols carved into them. Kind of like a trident but all bent up. To think, in a lab just like this, they made the disease. In some kind of attempt to make people immune to disease. I guess you could say they succeeded. No one who's infected can ever get sick again. Instead they turn into monsters. Soon a group of scientist walks in. Two with AK-47s, the rest holding clamps that you would normally use on wild or feral animals to move them around without getting close. The grab up three of us and leave the rest. I was one of the unlucky three. They put us all on tables and start experimenting. The first guy got an injection. He passed out and then blood spewed out of his eyes. A lot of it too. The scientist said he was dead at 1436. Wish I got to go first so I didn't have to see this. They threw his body into a incinerator and moved to subject two. They injected him with something else and he quickly went nuts. Started trying to attack the scientist. They shot him and threw him into the incinerator. That left me. I felt the needle hit my skin and then just blank. I laid there. I couldn't move. The untied me and I got up but it wasn't me moving. They said something to me. No him. Welcome back Mr. President. Was this their plan? Inject souls into people? How? Who was I now? How is the president? Was this their entire plan? Create a disease that wipes out the previous person's soul so they could move their own? They didn't make people immune to disease! They just failed in creating the disease they wanted! No one will ever no either. Even the people I tell this story to aren't real. I'm just lonely. Left to my own thoughts. I guess it is finally over for me. Maybe when this body dies, I can be free of this prison. He's giving a speech now. Maybe when he goes for his afternoon nap I'll give him some nightmares. Maybe that is how I can get back control. Maybe... | 2014-11-14T08:11:41 | 2014-11-14T07:35:43 | 18 | 11 |
[WP] Building a working teleport has been your life's work. Today you finally tested it for the first time. It didn't work, standing on the pad with just a couple of support staff you're devastated. Meanwhile in the next room your team is celebrating with you as you step off the landing pad... | “Congratulations sir” you hear along side cheering coming from the other side of the wall.
Confused you walk over to the room where you were supposed to have reappeared. A slight hesitation grips you as you turn the knob.
Everyone turns to you in shock as you enter the room. Amongst the labcoats you spot an exact copy of you. Sitting on an examination table with people circled around.
“We’re all doomed” he yells as confused scientists try to calm him down. “I’ve lived this moment before and it doesn’t end well.”
“Excuse me” you say as you recover from your shock. “What do you mean you’ve lived this before?”
He looks at me with a sadness in his eyes. “I said the exact same thing to you when I first walked in the door.”
Finally your assistant Carla chimes in with an uneasy look on her face. “Obviously this is a new experience for everyone. So we’ll have to take this one step at a….”
The conversation is cut short as a force begins lifting you off the ground and towards your doppelgänger. You flail helplessly as the force grows more intense. The rest of your team rushes to try and prevent whatever this is, but it’s no use.
You both watch on helplessly as your limbs begin to join into one unit. Fingers then hands begin to meld fighting against each other for release. The experience is unlike anything else you’ve experienced as suddenly parts of your body feel foreign to you.
You brace for impact as your faces collide. For a brief moment everything appears dark before your suddenly seeing things from other you’s perspective.
As you regain your focus you see what looks like a heat wave expanding outwards towards your horrified team. Your team is rushing to get away before suddenly disappearing.
Perhaps you are being transported to another part of the universe you speculate as the world seems to fade away from you. But then you remember what the other you said.
I must be stuck in a time loop.
Those thoughts are short lived though as you realize you can no longer breath or even move. You watch on in horror as the light fades from view and you pass out from the lack of oxygen. When you awake you hear the cheering of your team as you appear in the room. A team member walk your towards a table and sits you down.
That’s when you hear the sound of a doorknob turning… | “ And with the flip of this switch , I will now appear in the next room!” I shouted to my fellow staff
“ no wait dr.Heisen we haven’t tested it with organics! “ one team member shouted but I had already flipped the switch on
I felt the massive surge of energy go through me as the machine kicked off , I opened my eyes to see the same assistant staring in disbelief
“ you survived that, lucky for you I think a fail safe kicked in! How could you be so foolish !” She shouted at me but her screams were interrupted by shouting from the room next door where the destination pad was
We walked over for me to see well , me , estactic. As I turned to look at me , we both adjusted our glasses the same way…
“If you are really”
“So does that mean”
We both paused … was he finishing my sentences or was I finishing his….
“ copied by the Fail safe”
Was he really me? Or was he me and I was his copy? We both thought in the exact same manner…
“Dr Heisen” my assistant shouted , we both looked at her , like a mirror image “ yes, no she means me, well yes I know we are the same , ok can we stop saying the same thing… “
“Can you both just listen ? Do you understand what we have done here? “
We both looked over… yes it’s true we somehow created a copy … a perfect copy… it made no sense yet somehow entirely did… we failed to achieve teleporting but managed something greater… all because of the failsafe kicking in… | 2022-11-02T20:05:41 | 2022-11-02T18:36:12 | 22 | 14 |
[WP] A bank robber and a suicide bomber arrive at a bank at the same time. Hilarity ensues. | The robber entered the revolving door and into the lobby on a quiet Wednesday afternoon just after lunchtime. Following him, was a tall, lanky man with an oversized coat, which seemed odd on a hot August day. They made eye contact, and soon after they did, the tall man revealed what was under his coat.
*"Is that what I think it is?"* said the robber.
*"If you think it's 20 pounds of plastic explosive strapped to my chest, you'd be right."* said the suicide bomber.
No one in the lobby had noticed them yet, nor heard their conversation.
*"I hate to sound insensitive, but if you do that, could you at least park yourself closer to the vault and wait until I leave? I would really appreciate it."* said the robber.
*"That's rather blunt of you, but I appreciate your honesty. However, I must admit that I am doing this to purge people such as yourself."* said the bomber.
*"Well, I can understand that."* said the bank robber. *"Can I ask just one request in that case?"*
*"Perhaps. What is your request?"* said the bomber.
*"I've always wanted to be a bank robber. Even as a young boy. I used to work in Human Resources but my vocation had always been to rob banks. I have put considerable planning and effort into this score which will be my first, and I would appreciate it if I could at least act it out before I die."* said the robber.
The suicide bomber paused for a short while, contemplated the request, then finally agreed.
The bank robber eye-balled the lobby. There were two tellers, about twenty years apart. The older one was doing her nails in a very apathetic and cliche manner. The younger of the two was helping the sole patron deposit a check.
Normally in this circumstance, the robber would yell something like *"Hands up! This is a stick up!"*, or "Everyone keep calm, and nobody will get hurt!"
This was not the case however. The bank robber politely waited for the patron to finish their transaction, informed the teller that he was armed and that he was robbing the bank. The teller calmly walked over to the older teller and whispered what must have been the fact that they were being robbed. The older teller escorted the bank robber to the vault, punched in her code, and both tellers and the robber entered the vault.
The suicide bomber waited for the three to exit the vault, but after 30 minutes. The bomber knew he'd been had.
Eventually, another patron walked into the bank.
Noticing that there were no tellers or other employees in sight, he waited for 5 minutes and started to lose patience.
*"I swear if I have to wait another minute for some service, I'm going to explode!"* said the patron.
*"I know the feeling, but something tells me it's not worth it."* replied the bomber.
**Fin.** | It was all set. I got my gun, loaded it, and jammed it in my backpack. I wasn't one for words, so I didn't know if it was a "glock", "rifle", or "bazooka". After putting on my backpack and putting my mask in my sock, I prepared for the drive.
* -
* -
*It was all set. I bought the C4 from an arms dealer in Manhattan. Some pretty hard to find stuff in this country. It set me back 2,000,000. Did it matter though? I'm not exactly going to "live" through this. I put the C4 in my pack and grabbed the detonator. I got into my car and I prepared for the drive.*
* -
* -
I'm at the front door of the bank. I make my way in. Following close behind me is some really ugly chick wearing really baggy clothing. In one swift motion I pull out my glockzookarifle and aim at the sky. I let off a few shots. "Everyone down to the ground!" Just as I practiced. But behind me, someone yelled something.
* -
* -
*I'm at the front door of the bank. Before I enter, some really idiotic looking jerk cuts in in front of me. He looks like some hippy biker trash, with the backpack and all. Whatever. I pull out my detonator and yell "FOR THE COUNTRY OF ARSTOTSKA!". Just as I practiced. But in front of me, someone yelled something.*
* -
* -
I turn around. "NO WAYYYY YOURE SUICIDE BOMBING THIS STORE?"
* -
* -
*"OH MY GOD YOURE ROBBING THIS BANK?"*
* -
* -
"Bank, store, same difference. But yes!"
* -
* -
*"can I blow this up? You have soooo many stores you can rob in the future. This will be my...last gig. Hahaha"*
* -
* -
"oh sure sorry to bother you. Bye!" I leave. What a nice woman. | 2015-04-13T11:59:51 | 2015-04-13T10:16:20 | 71 | 23 |
[WP] Seven poems about the seven deadly sins without naming them or their synonyms. | Round, sweet, shiny, slick, and coy,
I must have it, must have my hands
Upon it and it must be mine, it will, oh Joy
And it shall suffer only my demands.
----
Cloves, basil, ginger, sesame oil,
A thousand pigs in a pot a mile high,
My spoon's a shovel, I'm coming to a boil
I can't resist the smell, won't even try!
----
I'm sorry to tell you this, but it's not enough,
My pocket's deeper than your taxes fill,
Without more golden teapots life is rough,
And I'm the type to shoot to kill.
----
What's the rush, where's the raging fire?
Is it really necessary I leave my bed?
I simply do not understand your desire
To run around like a chicken with no head.
----
I will burn you, chop you, boil, cook, and eat you --
Yes, the bruises on your face are _all your fault_
What kind of ugly, stupid smelly fat shrew
Doesn't listen when I say to _pass the f---ing salt!_
----
Damn that sweater looks good on him,
Why is he getting all the attention?
I'm funny, bright, fit and trim,
My moustache should be worthy of a mention!
----
No Natives standin' on my Land,
I struck the Oil, I tamed the West.
Eagles mount my Godly hand
To tell the world I am the best.
| This was my attempt at sloth sorry in advance for formatting:
Within the verdant verge and bower
The sun, like a crowned jewel,
Shines sweetly on many a dewy flower
From its aery throne: the azure pool.
Such a gracious gift to view,
But not for thee, you sorry fool,
Who squanders the day and night through
With thoughts of the if and morrow
And empty promises of to-do,
But none of these you dare to follow;
For all these goods are like to thee
As to another pain and sorrow.
Such is the way, eternally,
Of one so taken with apathy. | 2016-10-09T08:16:34 | 2016-10-09T08:00:58 | 19 | 10 |
[WP] After hearing a knock, you open the front door and discover Death standing there holding a kitten instead of his scythe. | "Good evening sir, may I take a moment to talk to you about this kitten?" And with that he was in my house.
"Excuse me," I said bewildered by this sudden intrusion. "What are you doing with that kitten."
"Proving a point" Death said flatly. And with that he glided quickly to my sink and held the kitten above the drain. "Your life is like this kitten."
I stood there stunned and a little bemused. "How's that?" I asked.
"Over," and with that he dropped the kitten into the drain and flipped on the garbage disposal in one smooth movement.
It took a moment for death to realize nothing had happened. "It's been broken for a few weeks now. I dropped my class ring in there and it jammed up the blades. I got a really nasty cut when I reached in to get. It got infected but my doctor prescribed me some antibiotics."
Death stood there a moment a little deflated. "Well let me try again how bout?" And with that he swooped up the kitten and made his way to the cage where I kept my pet snake. "Your life is over!" He boomed, dropping the kitten into the cage.
Silence. Death's glorious black orbs watched expectantly as my snake lay quite still bathing in the radiant heat of it's lamp. "I already fed him." I responded timidly out of fear of invoking death's anger any further.
"Oh for heaven's sake!" Death exclaimed, exasperated. "Well, watch this." And with that he whisked me and the cat to the rooftop and promptly threw the cat to the ground.
The cat, now clearly agitated, landed safely on it's feet and looked up at us with a slightly annoyed look on it's face. "This is your first cat isn't it?" I asked.
In a fit of despair Death pushed me off the roof and disappeared just as quickly as he'd come.
Mfw I now have a broken leg.
Mfw I now have a cat.
| I hear a knock on the door. I get up from my computer and open it. Death is standing on the welcome mat.
"Death?!? What the fuck. I'm 21 years old dude. I just got a girlfriend and a job, life is finally looking up. I'm not ready man, please don't do this."
Death laughs. "Oh, no, that's not why I'm here." He reaches into his robe, pulling out a kitten and an old radio. "I'm done with the whole 'taking your soul' thing. I was watching The Price is Right last month, and one of the commercials really struck a chord. I've decided to do some good for once."
"Okay...."
"Right. One second." He places the radio on the ground and presses play.
The eyes of the kitten become wide and teary as the voice of Sarah McLachlan flows from the speaker: *In the arms of an angel...*
"Every year, millions of animals are abused. For just $29.99 a month, you..."
*Slam*
| 2015-04-15T22:01:27 | 2015-04-15T20:27:44 | 58 | 32 |
[WP] Rome never fell; mankind lives in a militaristic, Latin speaking, space empire. | Starlight came in through the windows of the capital spaceship, reflecting off the chrome floors, walls and columns. Julius Augustus Caesar-tron wheeled past flickering holographic busts of great Romans and digitally projected tapestries of naval battles.
Caesar-tron beeped and blooped to himself angrily, approaching the Senate chambers. What were these pesky aristocrats plotting now?
He passed under a giant tapestry showing the most fearsome spaceship in the whole Roman navy: the suicide rammer. Many a barbarian race had been subjugated into the Empire as the stories of the rammer spread. The Roman treasury had filled with tribute, which Caesar-tron spent on fuel for the navy to sail onward in glorious conquest.
The laserproof double doors of the Senate chambers slid open before Caesar-tron. Inside, a thousand cyborgs, androids, and aliens dropped silent and turned to face him. He wheeled inside, rolling down the sloping aisle towards the podium, where a blue humanoid stood holding a microphone. The humanoid set down the mic and retreated from the podium hurriedly.
Caesar-tron began broadcasting his thought-data over the WiFi, and for the benefit of the humanoids, he plugged his output cord into the podium’s audiojack.
“Convening at midnight behind my back?” Caesar-tron bellowed. “Is this the state of the Roman Empire? The Senate so distrusts its benefactor that it cannot meet under light of day but must plot under cover of darkness?”
A silver humanoid in a purple toga stood up. “The conquest must end!” he shouted.
“Never!” Caesar-tron barked.
“We have beautiful garden planets,” the silver humanoid said, “That we have not seen in decades. What is the purpose of endless conquest?”
“You humanoids are so full of folly and lacking in logic,” Caesar-tron said, “We should bar you from the Senate!”
There was a gasp in the chambers.
The silver humanoid looked around at his fellow Senators.
“It is time,” the silver humanoid said. He reached into his robes and withdrew the handle of a dagger. He clicked a button, and three bright red lasers shot out from the handle to form a thin deadly prism, pulsing with energy.
Around the chambers, a thousand red prisms flickered to life, reflecting ominously off the chrome interior.
“Traitors!” Caesar-tron cried. The Senators advanced towards him, holding their daggers tightly.
There was nowhere to run. Caesar-tron looked up towards the glass windows overhead, and the stars beyond. He pinged his backup server on his loyal homeworld, Planet Brutus.
“Access denied,” came the reply.
“And you, Brutus?” Caesar-tron said in despair. He felt the bite of betrayal as the daggers tore into his back.
---
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| Before the Great Intergalactic Civil War, the barbarian invasion was the last threat to the survival of the Roman Empire.
But the barbarians were tricked.
After decades of conflict, the Empire eventually figured out that the barbarians were only powerful as an insurgent force.
Thus, they offered them administrative power and autonomy in certain regions.
The barbarians migrated to these areas in droves and created their own ‘civilization’.
As decades passed, the barbarians grew content and abandoned their guerrilla fighting tactics in favor of a more stable military apparatus.
That was when the Empire purged them with their superior armed forces.
___________________________________________________________________________________________
Millennia passed and dozens of galaxies were conquered before another threat emerged.
The Yuzon from the planet of Vici Corpusiti located in a distant galaxy.
The bulbous, jellyfish-like creatures were capable of teleportation and a single burst of toxins from their glands could kill thousands of humans in seconds.
The Yuzon were anxious of the potential annexation of their planet, so they utilised their teleportation and poising abilities to conduct devastating, guerrilla-style attacks on Earth.
Millions of humans died.
Emperor Claudius XI decided to follow the steps of his predecessors and grant them influence in a desperate attempt to halt their advance.
The Yuzon rapidly grew in strength and eventually demanded shared power over the known universe.
Claudius XI reluctantly accepted, and leadership of the Empire was now to be shared by one member from each species.
Augustus IX, a rising, young senator was appalled by the decision and successfully rallied internal political support to overthrow Claudius.
This made the Yuzon leader paranoid and he attempted to assassinate his counterpart.
This set off a galaxywide war.
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A once proud empire that had stood unified for over ten thousand years had now been cut in half by a pair of Caesars.
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r/Dri_Writes for more humor stories
| 2017-12-23T10:02:30 | 2017-12-23T09:35:24 | 76 | 25 |
[WP] “So you’ve come hero.” The most powerful dark lord in history says as he faces you across the hall. But before you take another step, he motions to the cutest little girl you’ve ever seen with tears in her eyes. “But first, please explain to my granddaughter why Grandpa needs to die.” | "Why....?" the little girl stammered, her face full of tears. "Why does Grandpa need to die? He hasn't done anything wrong!"
I stopped and looked towards the little girl.
"Your grandfather needs to die", I replied, "because he is the worst person in the world."
"That's not true! He-"
I cut her off. "Your grandfather needs to die because he has murdered millions of innocent people. Your grandfather needs to die because he killed my parents when I was younger than you. Your grandfather needs to die because he made me watch as my friends were tortured and executed."
I turned to face the dark lord, readying my sword. "That's why your grandfather needs to die."
The dark lord laughed. "That's a lot of talk, hero. But can you really do it? Can you really make a little girl watch as her grandfather is killed?"
I stared him in the eye. "No, no, I can't." And then, I charged. But not towards him.
"No! Wait, stop! What are you-"
My sword plunged straight through the little girl's chest, her tiny body going limp as I lifted her into the air. Behind me, the "dark lord" vanished in a puff of smoke.
"I...impossible" the little girl croaked, her voice now a deep rasp. Her face began to shrivel and wrinkle, and her body grew in size until I was met with the true form of the dark lord. "The illusion was flawless... how could you have known? I don't understand...."
"You've never cared about a single person in your life, so of course you wouldn't understand. No actual grandfather would ever put his granddaughter in such a dangerous situation. Only a monster like you would ever think a grandfather would do that." | I see the girl behind him, seated on a pillow twice as large as she is. Her auburn hair clung to her face and neck in clumps, the grizzled ends brushing against the shoulders of her stained and patched pink gown.
“No,” I said, driving my blade into the Dark Lord’s guts. “She will learn.”
The girls eyes widened slightly as she watched me pull my sword from her grandfathers flesh, his lifeblood pooling in his hands, on the floor. She made only a small sound when he fell.
“Girl,” I said, kneeling to her level. “Grow to hate me. Grow to forget me. Just do not grow into him, or I will come for you, and you will die.”
I withdrew my dagger and placed it in her hands.
“Goodbye,” I said, and I left. | 2019-12-11T21:16:13 | 2019-12-11T19:17:14 | 616 | 363 |
[WP] "The Young Anakin, Trained, he will be." Yoda said. Obi-Wan exclaims, "The council is in agreement then? I will train the Boy?" Yoda looks at Obi-Wan, "Mace Windu, his master will be." | A perplexed and enraged Obi-Wan stared at Master Yoda, and then at Mace Windu, who had a smug smile on his face. "He is the chosen one, after all." said Windu.
He could feel the other masters laughing at this percieved snub. For the first time in a very long Jedi life, Obi-Wan Kenobi was close to losing his temper. Master Yoda sensed it. "Grow well, the boy shall, Obi-Wan. Find a good apprentice for you, we will. Qui-Gon to his Obi-Wan, you shall be."
Obi-Wan knew his next words would be measured carefully. The tension was palpable in the room as it was quite clear that his anger was getting the better of him.
He felt the Force around him, calming him, flowing through him. Addressing the masters, he said "You mistake me, masters. I understand this is for the boy's good. I did not mean to cause any problem."
Mace Windu wouldn't let this go, though. Leaning forward from his seat with a curious look and the slightest touch of menace in his eyes, he questioned Obi-Wan. "What do you think of this.. decision then?"
Obi-Wan blinked for a second. Then, with a dead-pan look on his face, said "A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one."
---------
My first attempt! How do you guys like it?
**edit:** Woah, this blew up. Thanks for the love, guys :D | "Oh hellllll no!" exclaimed the furious Jedi Master as he jumped up from out of his chair.
"I've had it with these mother fucking snakes on this mother fucking plane!"
The remainder of the council appeared perplexed at Master Windu's outburst, but it was the wise and knowledgable Master Yoda who was first to speak.
"Confused young Master is, see into future maybe. Remember his training he should."
Mace Windu rose an eye brow and looked bewilderingly at the fuzzy green master.
"Nope. Fuck this shit." And with that Mace Windu left the council, never to be seen again.
| 2017-05-24T01:27:23 | 2017-05-23T22:16:59 | 681 | 337 |
[WP] Humans are known to be ruthless in battle, stopping for nothing until victory is had. So everyone was quite surprised when the humans stopped fighting in a war for a moment to save an innocent creature, resuming the fight only after they knew creature was safe. | "Get me the humans on the line"
"Ma'am"
"General, why is there a whole grid sector currently at ceasefire"
"Ma'am, we've discovered a non-combatant of a third species and have negotiated a sector ceasefire to extract it"
There was a pause.
"Come again general?"
"We're evacuating a civilian family and their farm animals Ma'am"
"General, you're in command of the most rapidly promoted GCAF Species Force in the history of the Galactic Community. Are you aware of why that is?"
"Ma'am, because we humans shocked the rest of the civilised galaxy with our ruthlessness and efficiency in war"
"On the money general. So is that reputation smoke and mirrors, or is there something I should know about?"
"Article 3 of the Geneva Convention, Ma'am."
"You'll have to be more specific general, I'm still catching up on your people's history. It was a document signed sometime in the 1900s your time, am I correct?"
"Yes Ma'am. An international agreement governing rules of wartime engagement. Article 3, as pertains here, disallows the involvement of noncombatants in a warzone."
"But ... pardon my phrasing here general, you're humans. You deliberately wound enemy combatants to draw in medical personnel. You're absolutely brutal. Why does a thousand year old piece of paper govern your combat doctrine now?"
"Ma'am, have you ever noticed that our grenades use large shrapnel?"
"Not particularly, why?"
"Because it would waste more resources if those shrapnel shards couldn't show up on X-rays."
"That's despicable general."
"Ys, but as you said, efficient. The Geneva Convention stipulates that the shrapnel must be able to be identified easily by X-ray equipment, to avoid unnecessary suffering."
"Humans fight by a code? You mean you aren't just brutal?"
"Well by your standards Ma'am, yes. But for us, war is almost a constant. So we had to make it something we could always come back from. Hence the convention."
"Hence why the most feared soldiers in the galaxy are currently telling a bedtime story to a twelve year old in the middle of a war zone."
"Jones is a gem Ma'am. But yes, to answer your question. Have you ever seen teh aftermath of a human battle?"
"No, I assumed the results would be too bloody for anyone's tastes."
The human general gave a soft smile, not that she could see it over the receiver.
"Ma'am, we send in our own medics to treat the wounded. And if you check the official reports from both sides, no enemy medic was ever killed by human munitions."
"And yet you're still the most efficient fighting force in the GCAF..."
Her thoughts trailed off with her words as she pondered what her human liaison had said. They could be fighting a brutal war of blood and tears, but they fought merely like it was a job. That, she realised, was what made them terrifying. It wasn't that they could get worse. it was that they had, and they knew, as the most violent race in the galaxy, what that cost was.
"Carry on general."
"Yes Ma'am." | "pop....corn?" Grndr the ogre offers the young elf standing next to him as they watch the battle about to ensue. "No grndr but thank you kindly" the elf replies.
These humans always going on and about total victory made these battles worth the watch. For several hours they will battle likely to the last man standing all in the name of victory, total and complete victory. Its as if they never thought to work out their difference any other way. Brutal savages they are, ruthless and blood thirsty but it did make for a day of interesting entertainment.
"Wanna put some gold on the Victor?" Vic the goblin asks appearing suddenly as if from thin air. "Why not whats your odds vic? The elf asks grndr just shakes his head being here only for the free entertainment. "Got the blue ones +-50 today" the elf runs his chin sizing up the two armies "sounds good vic ill take red then for 5 gold coins" vic smiles making a notation on his tablet before the horns suddenly sound and a great shout is heard "well then they wanting to make a early start today"vic mumbles watching the battle begin.
The two armies begin to charge at one another. These humans sure do know how to make a great noise.. then suddenly as the charge begins the horns sound again and everyone comes to a stop. The three creatures stand there transfixed.
A young fawn a half goat half man appears from a hole in the ground on the battlefield. It looks scared as two massive armies are on ether side of it. The men chuckle at the meek creature before one of them a red colored man chases the scared thing off the field.
The three just stand there shocked. Not only did the brutes stop they made sure to get the poor thing off the field and to the safety of the woods. Then when the man returned to his ranks the mighty horns blasted again and the charge resumed.
"Well look at that" vic says his jaw still open in shock "not a bunch of complete animals then are they" the elf nods in agreement as the shouts of wounded and dying men begin to fill the air. Grndr just munches his popcorn clearly enjoying the carnage below. "Well maybe there is some hope for them yet" the elf says right before the men begin to fire off their catapults a blue man not getting clear joining the boulders being flung at the red men.. | 2022-01-09T04:53:46 | 2022-01-08T18:55:54 | 143 | 44 |
[WP] "What do you mean the robbers ADDED $4,000,000 to the vault?" | "Wait, what do you mean we're going to ADD $4,000,000 to the vault?"
"That was the boss's orders."
"That makes no sense. Why would someone risk jail to *lose* money?"
"Don't know, don't care. That's what he's paying us for, so I'm doing what I'm told and getting the fuck out of here. Now get to work."
"All right... all right... no need to get angry. It's just... I always knew the man was weird, but *damn*."
 
---------------------------------------------------------------------
 
"Boss, it's done."
"Yeah, someone out there is $4,000,000 richer than last night... for some reason."
"*Some reason*? You think I'm crazy, don't you?"
"That's not what he meant, boss, he's new, doesn't know what he's..."
"Look, it's just that... it's your money and all, but why would anyone ever break into a vault to put *more* money in it? If you don't want it, you could just give it to me - no need to break into anything."
"...why? You mean you *don't know* why I sent you there? Don't you ever read the newspapers?"
"What? I don't get it."
"You idiot! Look at this!"
"What? 'The world's largest money vault'? What does that have to do with anything? Why does it matter to you that some vault has more money than others?"
"THE NUMBER! LOOK AT THE NUMBER! HOW MUCH MONEY WAS THERE IN THE VAULT?"
"What? Let me... no... no way..."
"Now you see why I had you do it?"
"You don't mean to tell me..."
"Exactly $999,999,996,000,000. How could I-- how could *anyone* leave it like that?"
"...I don't believe it."
 
----------------------------------------------------------------
 
Yeah, I don't usually write anything here, but the idea popped into my head as soon as I saw the prompt, so I thought - why not?
Also decided to experiment a bit, working only on dialogue - I hope I managed to keep the characters distinct enough it won't be a problem.
| "Well, you can't really call them robbers if they added money, now can you?" Roberts looked at me with his classic "I can't relate to you how displeased I am with you" face. I see the face a lot.
"That is not important!" Roberts screamed. "What does matter is that we now have an excess amount of money in our accounts that we cannot explain!"
"I suppose you're right, but what's the big deal anyways? We're a bank after all, isn't more money a good thing?"
"Yes, I suppose it is, but how are we going to explain this to corporate?"
"We could tell them the money fairy gave us a visit, and was feeling generous." I replied helpfully.
"Tim, how many times have I told you the money fairy does not exist."
"HEY! You don't have proof of that! How else would you explain our pay checks?"
"That's Larry in accounting Tim, we have lunch with him every Tuesday, how do you even eat your cereal in the morning?"
"Oh I don't, I don't like cereal, gets too soggy."
"You know what? Fuck it, you deal with this shit."
"Okay, I think it's already been dealt with so we're good, I'll see you and the money fairy at lunch Tuesday!!!"
Meanwhile, upstairs Larry is laughing his ass off as he witnesses the unfolding of the greatest April Fools Prank ever. | 2016-02-24T12:57:45 | 2016-02-24T11:32:03 | 221 | 157 |
[WP] Mark Zuckerberg and Elon Musk are two robots sent to Earth by aliens, one sent to advance humanity, the other sent to hinder it. | “Grandpa, tell us the story again! The one about the two robots!”
The old man leaned back in his chair, with a twinkle in his eyes and a smile he nodded
“During the early 21st century, two highly advanced races sent their most prized creations, perfect and impartial, AI advisors. One race sent one to hinder humanity, they believed Earth to be a threat to the galactic order, while the other sent theirs to help, believing that humans were capable of incredible feats, with guidance”
“But you can’t tell which was which right?” The little girl interrupted, excited to hear the story of ages ago.
“Ah but I was getting to that part” The grandpa responded, not unkindly.
“It wouldn’t be until decades later that the people of Earth would discover this robots, but even then, they couldn’t tell which one was sent to help or which one was sent to stop. These men, robots, both had achieved much. At first, Zuckerberg was thought to be the bad one, as Facebook could invade your privacy. But his advances in social media could not be ignored. Musk was thought to be good, as his inventions helped shaped the Green World as we know it, but his creations also helped kill later on.”
“But you know which was which, right Grandpa? You figured it out when no one else did!”
The old man smiles a sad smile before carefully responding
“Yes”
“Tell us Grandpa! Who was the evil one and who was the good one?”
He laughed gently
“That, is something you will have to figure out.”
As the kids complained loudly, another old man comes over, chuckling to himself
“Which version of the story are you telling now Mark? Mine or yours?”
Mark winks at the other man
“The truth Elon.” | “We’ll send the two,” Rn’delf said.
“So one of them gets to cripple these humans?” Myr’tymrr asked hungrily.
“Yes, but the other one helps them. They have to make it to planet 4.”
“We have to know that they’re going to ruin themselves and trust amongst them must be destroyed! They have to grow to know each other with such hatred that they’ll turn on our evil agent,” Myr’tymrr’s 75 eyes gleamed brilliant.
“But we have the other one to grow their knowledge and understanding of how to get off that rock. That one will be the one they need for their survival. They’ll have the ability to eventually explore the galaxy and perhaps coming to our planet.” Rn’delf mused.
“Guaranteed we’ll win the pan-galactic Nobel prize for this. Should we do our usual wager?”
“Of course, one Earth Dollar.” | 2018-04-22T08:17:20 | 2018-04-22T07:13:36 | 2,901 | 14 |
[WP] On your eighteenth birthday, you shoot a mystic bow that is said to kill whoever is destined to kill you, three seconds before they do. Eight years later, your arrow strikes your SO's heart, right as she says "I do."
Or he. Or It. Whatever. I'm a straight canadian guy, so it popped into my head.
Sorry.
EDIT: I did not expect this to get so popular. Honestly, I expected this to get maybe two or three responses, and a 5/40 Upvote/Downvote Ratio. But, 196/95.........
EDIT: We've passed 300 upvotes! I'm afraid now. Very afraid.
Edit again! 400!
But at the same time, the people that hate me finally found the post. I suppose it wont be long before i go back to a 1/30 upvote/downvote ratio.....
Continue writing though! I love your works! | I haven’t been able to sleep well in weeks. I told him that I was just nervous about the wedding, that I wanted everything to be perfect. I hate lying to him like that, but if he knew what was really going on, he would be devastated. Knowing that, by the best estimations, I would be dead in six months would crush him. I just wanted to make sure that I would be married to him when I died, but I didn't want to go alone. I always wanted to die with the one that I loved, the one that made me happy.
As I stood there holding his hand, waiting for the priest to finish his part, I started to cry. I knew that this would be my happiest memory. I brought my hand up to try and suppress a sob. I heard him say those magical words, those words that I have been waiting for years to hear. “I do.” His smile as he said those words made my heart melt, made me almost regret what I was about to do, but I don’t want him to suffer.
As I open my mouth to say my part, my chest started to hurt. I looked at his face to see his shocked face splattered with blood. My breathing became very painful and labored. I glanced down to see an arrow now protruding from my chest. As I started at it, a capsule fell from my mouth. The capsule I had snuck in when I was suppressing my sobs. The Capsule that was supposed to ensure we went into the afterlife together. My legs started to feel weak as I wobbled forward, right into his arms. I could hear the commotion that everyone was making, but it didn’t matter, all that mattered was that I let him know how I feel.
“I’m sorry.”
Note: Written from my SO’s point of view. Also, my first WP, so be nice! :P | A drunken stupor, night after night
My children taken
From me after the fight
I'd wanted to see them,
but they'd not grant me the right
Death is the only salvation
From this accursed plight
---
"Well then," The Oracle said, as he closed the clairvoyant bubble, which told me the days to come. "Will you do it, or what?"
I may as well. Now that I've known of the days to come, I'd rather change the direction my life will take. Rather than painstakingly await drowning myself in alcohol until my last breath.
I pick up the arrow and pull against the bowstring. With all my might I plucked, and released the arrow into the sky. I was going to kill her. The woman who will ruin my life.
---
It's quite funny really, how just knowing what the future holds, can change that very future itself.
Because right as I was about to pull the trigger, this arrow came out of nowhere and impaled me through the head. | 2014-05-27T19:36:17 | 2014-05-27T18:33:55 | 151 | 43 |
[WP] As a supremely powerful, ancient and intelligent devil most who dare to summon you are true monsters with little soul for you to steal in the first place. You have just been summoned by a small child, and even your twisted heart doesn't know how to feel about this | I hover over her deathbed, she looks so small and weak, yet peaceful. I had made sure of that myself. She already has enough horror to await her in the afterlife without a painful death. Her silver hair fans around her like some sort of heavenly aura.
“I love you all” she manages to whisper as the last of her life leaves her eyes. Her family and loved ones who had gathered around around to pay their last respects began to cry. I could hear their heartbreaking with every sob. A sound I have grown accustomed to, even relished in. However this time I only pitied these mortals.
“At least she has gone to a better place” one of them says.
“You just keep on believing that Ally” I hear a voice, sad but kindly, behind me.
There beside me in her hospital gown stands Maggie Littlewood. She has aged in the past sixty odd years since I had first saw her. Of course she has. She had been seven then, small with big wide eyes and a wild mane of red hair. She had caught me of guard, I had never expected to be summoned by someone so young and innocent as her. I had at first thought there had been some sort of mistake.
Standing in the centre of the summoning circle she had built in the woods, I had asked her “Do you know who I am?”
“Yes” she had nodded. “I need you to...” she had paused for a second, I do not think she had expected to get this far. “I need you to kill someone for me.”
“Kill someone? Do you know what that truly means?”
“Yes.” She shifts slightly causing the sleeves of her coat to rise. I could see the bruises on her arms then.
“I see. But do you realise that if I do this for you, then your soul belongs to me. That means when you die, you will spend the rest of eternity in hell. There is no way out of it.”
“I am not scared” she told me, looking me straight in the eyes.
The next day the deed was done and we parted ways. Maggie lived a fulfilling life – a successful career, travelling the world, she had a loving husband and children, and a picture perfect home. For my part, I continued as I as I had always done, making deals with the scum of the earth and then when they died I would take them away kicking and screaming to my realm in hell. There would be moments though when I would think of Maggie, and I would be filled with what I can only describe as regret as I thought of when I would go and claim and her soul. I wondered if she still even remembered the deal we had made all them years ago, when she was still only a child. Or if she though it was only a fever dream.
“You've come then” Maggie says, looking directly at me. Her tone conveys nothing.
“I said I would.” I think about saying something that may comfort her, but I do not know what I should say.
“Before we go...” her voice trails off and I wait for her to try and renegotiate our deal, they all do, although there is nothing I can do. As powerful as I may be to a mortal, there are some things that I cannot change. “What is it like in hell?”
“It is hot. Unbearably so. Never ending fire and brimstone, hot enough to blister skin, the heat and the pain drives people delirious. You can wonder the realm as much as you like, but there is no escape. You will wish for death but you already are dead, there is nothing else left for you.”
“I see. That is kind of what I expecting.” She lets out a deep sigh. She is putting on a brave face, but she is growing more and more afraid. I can see it in the tremor of her hands.
“But not for you” I tell her. She looks at me suspiciously. “The people there deserve it. But you... I have made accommodations there for you. As long as you stay within them you will be safe. But it is important to remember this, you cannot leave its walls; if you do you will be able to return and you will suffer with the rest of them for all eternity.” | I sat at the dining table, nursing a glass of brimstone whiskey that smoked as I brought it to my lips. The stinging, sulfuric fumes wafting from the intoxicating alcohol settled me after returning from another disruptive summoning. This one had been a man in his late fifties, who was deranged and looking for a way to repay an ex lover who had recently jilted him. I rolled my eyes at the memory, remembering how I’d dragged her screaming down to Hell for the price of what little soul the man still held within him.
*What the hell am I doing, working for a pittance,* I thought to myself as the sizzling liquid slid down my throat. It was the curse of being bound to a summoning spell. Whenever a mortal deigned to summon me, I was required to make a deal with them, no matter how unremarkable their soul energy was. Most of the mortals who chose to enact the spell had slowly descended to madness, losing the little bits of soul that remained.
I set my glass on the rich mahogany table before me as I felt the familiar tugging sensation in my gut. Another summoning. I groaned, wishing desperately I could ignore the beckons of whatever mortal had decided to execute the spell. With a last glance at the fire demon dancing merrily in the hearth beside me, I snapped my fingers and teleported to the precise location on Earth where the summoning circle resided.
Billowing smoke clouded my view as I slowly rejoined the mortal realm. As the last tendril twisted away, I beheld the surroundings of my newest summoner. With shock, I realized I was standing in a child’s room. Shelves of toys and stuffed animals lined the walls, though the floor was left impeccably clean. Beneath my feet was a perfect summoning circle, drawn with crayons upon multiple pieces of paper arrayed in a haphazard ring.
My gaze traveled upwards to meet the gleeful smile of a young girl. She couldn’t have been more than five years of age, if my little experience with human children was correct. This made no sense, how could a mere child summon me? How could she know the incantation and the precise swirls and angular shapes that made up the complex summoning circle.
“Girl,” I growled, my deep, demonic intonation reverberating off the walls. “Do you know the being that summoned me?”
“It was me, of course,” she said simply, her eyes glimmering with pride and something else I couldn’t quite place. Something almost...predatory.
“Nonsense, stop wasting my time and lead me to the human who truly performed the ritual,” I spat, my patience growing thin with these childish games.
“As I told you before, Lazarus, it was me,” she said. I could have sworn her eyes took on a reddish tint around her irises as a sinister grin spread across her lips.
“And how, pray tell, do you know my name?” I hissed, my astonishment bubbling in my chest at hearing my true name pass from the lips of a mortal unreadable on my face.
“How do you think?” she snapped in response. The glowing red of her irises quickly engulfed the rest of her eyes as demonic energy began to pulse from her body.
“Who...are you?” I asked, staggering backwards. Her form began to morph, her mortal clothing replaced with the regal dress commonly seen in the court of the Devil himself. Her hair waved in a phantom breeze as her power grew, as it desperately clawed it way out of her mortal body.
“I’m your future queen,” she said with a triumphant sneer. | 2020-11-15T06:38:21 | 2020-11-15T04:40:50 | 66 | 18 |
[WP] You tried to commit suicide, but as it turns out you are immortal. Now you have to call someone to help you cut the rope. Awkward. | Have you ever dreamed of being immortal? Have you ever imagined how you would discover your immortality? I haven't and I sure as hell didn't expect to find out after a botched attempt at suicide. Now I'm swinging from a fucking rope and I CAN'T GET FUCKING DOWN. Ugh, I never knew rope itched so much. Maybe I should have used wire? Then my head would have been cut off and I wouldn't be IN THIS FUCKING SITUATION.
Jesus Christ I swear I will do whatever it takes to be good just get me off... oh wait, my phone is in my pocket. Shit, I can't even see the screen. Thank God my parents are stingy and never got me a smartphone, I wouldn't be able to dial anyone. Ok, speed dial 1...
"Hello, Barry's Pizza, may I take your order?" Um... no. Speed dial 2...
"You've reached Telephona Erotic-" Speed dial 3...
"Hello?"
"John! Thank God, ok listen I-"
"Hah! Got you, its just my voicemail. Leave a message retard. *beep*" That bastard, as soon as I get out of this noose I swear to GOD I will do something crazy. Whatever. I have more suffocating matters to attend to. Speed dial 4...
"Baby? Is that you?" Shit... fuck it whatever.
"Hey mom. Uh... funny situation I'm in right now. Could you...um...come over and help me out real quick. It's a bit of a long story so I'll explain when you get here."
"Hon, I can't come over. Your father and I are in Hawaii, I thought you knew? Are you ok? You sound like you're not breathing well? Have you been running?"
"Uh, yeah. Running. Its no problem, I'll call someone else. Thanks anyway, bye." Well shit. I didn't put any names under the other numbers. Damn... Well I am a little hungry. And thirsty.
"Hello, this is Barry's Pizza, how can I help you?"
"Hello, this is Carter. I would like to order a large pepperoni pizza with a large Dr. Pepper, please, to be delivered at this address." | Probably a bit darker than what you were expecting but here we go!
I'm sure I would've let out the typical drawn out movie 'gasp' had I not been holding my entire body weight on my windpipe. There was no joyous rebirth, no revelation that I had been given a second chance to renew a wasted life. Only instantaneous and overwhelming horror.
I had no time to grasp what had happened. There was a brief moment of complete confusion before survival instinct kicked in and I began convulsing uncontrollably, my body trying desperately to undo what my mind had already done.
It was no use, you don't usually accommodate immortality into a suicide, had I known I would have perhaps tried incineration rather than hanging, I was already a gonner and I'd been alive all of 17 seconds. I spent the last few moments of my morbid rebirth in blind panic, bursting blood vessels straining to escape the cold embrace of death to which I had previously become acquainted. A miracle destined to be extinguished before its revelation, like some sick cosmic miscarriage. The irony is I died in a darker, more horrifying place than when I had first decided to take my life.
That was the second time I died.
I've lost count now, this has become my world, and my tomb. An endless cycle of death and rebirth optimized into one panic ridden minute long experience.
If I could just reach the phone, I could finally end it all. | 2015-01-12T09:13:12 | 2015-01-12T08:42:21 | 79 | 10 |
[WP] You and the Devil sit down for a game of chess. If he wins, he takes your soul. If you win, you take control of Hell. As the Devil prepares his first move, he simply smiles and knocks over his king. "You win." | It's been 3 month now since that fucking game and what can I say? It's hell. Well... no shit its literally hell but its just so much work and all my employees are sadistic little shits. The top of the counter, state of the art type dipshit. Those who were the most creative in their past life, become demons in hell. You would assume, that these particularly shitty humans would rot in here for all eternity with only our finest treatments but no, since Lucifer doesn't really like his father's creations, he rewards those who already did his work or had a pact with him so yea, Hitler is literally one of the chairmen of hell.
This place is run corporate, since it's the hierarchy model, most of the demons are familiar with already. That means I get 14 hour shifts, with cocain binges after work. At first I didn't want to partake but when everyone you work with is constantly on coke you can't keep up, at least I care less about the cruelties. It honestly becomes morbidly funny to watch people in infinite loops try everything, still ending up with the same result. Some of the demons even get really creative, one taped his torturee who was scared of height to a model plane and flew him around hell. I got us some beer and we enjoyed the screams a bit, demon was a great guy, gave him the day off.
You might wonder what the previous devil does now, well he didn't read the ToS of swapping yourself out of hell so he just switched places with me. He called last week and he's having a blast, smoked all my weed, took my dog out 3 times a day and got into cooking. Worst of all, he let my aloe plant die. So normally I should recommend that Noone ever plays a round against the devil but since I am in charge now and would love to quit this job, anyone fancy a game of chess? | I've relaxed some rules.
The real scumbags are tortured for the rest of eternity, but the average Tom, Dick, or Harry gets to just hang around. Just chill. The scumbags, not so lucky. They're stuck in the loop of torture until I'm bored, then I throw 'em into the deadly sin pits. There's seven for each one, and each demon meaning to tempt them into it keeps watch over the pits and reports to me at the end of the century. Time moves quite a lot faster here. I should've expected this, especially when Mr. "Morning Star" over here's held his position for who knows how long. I hope he's doing good, I hear retirement's treating him well, but will he leap through the portal to end all existence? Only time will tell. In the meantime, I'll make sure everything runs smoothly. Well, as smoothly as you get when everything is on fire, but when something goes wrong, I always like to remember the wisest words ever spoken by humans.
"It was always burning since the world's been turning." | 2021-12-30T04:47:15 | 2021-12-30T04:27:28 | 19 | 11 |
[WP] One day, time just suddenly stops for a short moment for you. At first, you tried to mess around, but after the 246th times it happened, you start to realise that your power is not stopping time, but being able to move in time frozen by another person in the world.
Just an idea that randomly popped up in my head. | And 3... 2... 1... it’s time to go.
I don’t think I’ve ever entered this bank with such a huge grin on my face. There is absolutely nothing to stop me from getting what I’ve wanted for so many years, and in a few minutes I’ll have more money than I could ever imagine having all at once. I really should feel bad... but fuck you, Richard, and the rest of your bullshit management team. I’m just taking what is owed; no big deal, right?
Annnddd looks like he’s entering the girl’s locker room... typical kid. Guess that gives me about 5 minutes tops. Sadly that means I don’t have time to slap a few people around. Consider it my present to you idiots for being coworkers for so long. Now now, what was it again?... 52... 36... 126.... 7.... 12... and 85... *click* bingo.
Have you ever seen such a beautiful sight? Money. Money everywhere. Ohhh and don’t forget all those beautiful golden bars. I think it’s time to go shopping, don’t you? See, this place here has been a temptation of mine for the past 16 years I’ve had to deal with being an employee of this shit hole. And look at me now!!!.... oh I’m sorry. Almost forgot time is frozen. Better get a move on. Hmm, I’ll take one of these... and some of these... ohhh and a bit of these. Can’t forget these either.
How much time do I have left?.... wow this little shit. He’s having the time of his life in that locker room. Guess I can get one or two slaps in...
Alright alright. If my math is correct... that puts me at about 450 grand... annnddd now let’s grab a few of these and well, well, well... looks like I’ve got myself a solid half a million. Not too bad for 5 minutes of work. I’d say now is a good time to leave. Looks like the kid thinks so too.
Oh yeah. FUCK YOU RICHARD. THIS IS FOR THAT 5 CENT “RAISE!”
*SLAP* And that ladies and gentlemen is probably better than sex itself!! HA HA!
Alright alright and now we’re out of there. Just in time too.
*As the doors close behind me, the world begins to rotate once more, birds singing, people chatting, cars moving and all is right again*
Well, this would definitely be a lot easier if I had the control of this time warp bullshit... but I’ll consider all this good enough. And of course god bless technology for making cameras too small to ever detect. Putting it on that little shit’s backpack was the best idea I’ve ever had since realizing what was going on with the time stops!! Damn I’m a genius... Oh. I am DEFINITELY gonna have to talk with that kid though. I mean, sneaking into girl’s locker rooms with his power?? There’s no way I’m letting my son abuse his powers like that! | I didn't love my job.
That's not too unusual. Most people don't love their job. So I guess in that respect, I'm not special. But I couldn't help but feel like I *really* didn't like my job. Being a store associate at Best Buy was like being a lion tamer and a dog trainer all rolled into one. You had to beat back people's anger all day, then show them exactly how to do things the right way. Against their will, usually.
So when the Silence appeared as Mrs. Hendricks was complaining about her 4 year old iPad she bought from us not connecting to the WiFi... again... it was a welcome respite.
In the beginning when it first started happening -- after the shock wore off -- I used to think the Silence was some sort of universal signal to chill for a second. A sign things were getting to be too much in my life, and Someone, Somewhere wanted to give me a moment's peace to enjoy the absolute, suffocating quiet the Silence brings. It feels like being outside right after the first snowfall when the world is on pause and everything's just taking a moment to enjoy the stillness.
Now? I'm not so sure anymore.
I strode away from my station and out into the hot Texas air. Compared to the hermetic, air-conditioned Best Buy, the outside felt wild and rugged and free. Ambling to my '95 Civic, I paused to consider what exactly I should do with my time. These pauses could last just a couple minutes, or go on for hours, and I never wanted to get too far from the store in case everything snapped back into reality.
The black birds that normally hung around the parking lot were frozen in the sky above me, their undulating flock trapped in a moment of time mid-swirl over the Cherry Berry. Of everything in the Silence, I liked seeing the birds most of all. Like a frozen waterfall in winter, the birds seemed to vibrate with an energy even when still. Their purpose was evident even when not moving, and I loved feeling their drive over the stillness of the Silence.
As I stood admiring the birds, I heard it. Faintly.
A car engine.
The silence had been broken. I was not alone. | 2018-01-26T07:11:56 | 2018-01-26T06:51:42 | 17 | 10 |
[WP] 37. That is how many times you have died of unnatural causes. Every time you do, you get reset to the age of 5, retaining all of your past memories. You think that this is finally the time you get to move on with life. | She came into my bedroom to wake me up. I pretended to be asleep but the phantom pain of the car crash still coursed through my body. None of the previous attempts had never gotten that far. I thought that it was finally time to move on except I couldn’t do it.
Mom sat down on the edge of the bed and brushed hair out of my eyes. I opened them slowly to see her, my mother, youthful and glowing. The return shock was fading as I sat up and acted groggy. I leaned in for a hug and without realizing it, I started crying. Mom hugged me and whispered comfort into my ear. I was blessed. So blessed.
- 24 hours earlier, 49 years in the future -
The last mourner had paid their respects and I sat there next to the coffin with Jacob, my older brother, and our wives. In each of the previous runs I never saw her die. I had convinced her to quit smoking on run 7 which led to her avoiding the COPD. On run 16 I got old enough for her to get into a real bad relationship. It almost killed her. Run 17, that scumbag never made it to the front door. I made sure of that. It was smooth sailing until run 31 where we learned about her heart problems. The next few runs I got offed before anything could be done about it. This time, I was too late. It was the first time I saw her laying there in the coffin. It was just too much. The doctor said it was simple heart failure and that nothing could be done. I don’t buy it. I can fix this. I can change it! I have to!
Jacob’s hand on my shoulder tore me from my thoughts. “Ryan, we’re going to head to the house. We’ll see you there. Take your time.” I nodded and hugged my wife as she joined the others. I watched as they lowered the coffin and started covering it. I had decided before they had finished. I needed more time. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Not yet. I knew what to do.
On the way back to my parents home there is a turn pike. It’s steep, high up, and very dangerous when wet. It was the perfect place and the rain was coming thick. I couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity. As I came up to the turn my foot hit the accelerator, smashed the guard wall, and my car started falling. Just before I hit the ground my final thought was, “I’m coming home mom.” Then black.
- “present” -
After wiping my tears, mom asked me what was wrong. I gave a childish reply about a scary dream. She hugged me again and told me to get up and brush my teeth. I did and smiled in the mirror. Not many people got to get extra time like me. As long as this power works, I have all the time in the world. I’m going to use it to the full.
After breakfast, I went back to my room to reacquaint myself with childhood yet again when I saw a book on my desk. It was old and crusty. Never saw it before. I opened and started reading. It detailed all my past runs. My heart raced. Where this come from?! Who put I here? What does this mean?
On the last page of the book it was written, “Attempt 38. 2 more left. Use them wisely.” | Five.
There's a nice, normal number. Nobody overuses *five* to an extent which makes anyone cringe.
So it's nice to be five again. Quite old enough to be aware (even without the accumulated knowledge from all my past lives) of the existence of the number 37, and of many greater, much more significant numbers.
But 37 has an odd bit of trivia attached to it at this moment in time. In my most recent life (apparently my 37th, though I personally stopped counting after six) I encountered an entirely disproportionate amount of people who seemed to be obsessed with that number, 37. In fact, I heard it unsubtly forced into so many conversations in which it had no reasonable place, eventually I gagged so hard at it that I sort of died. So (in a quite metaphorical kind of way) that wretched little pair of digits played as much a part in my death as it (or anyone else) ever could. Which is to say not much.
Now I'm certain you'll want to say something along the lines of "but it sounds like you're the one who is obsessed with 37." And how am I so sure of this, you ask? Well, to be honest... You're tediously predictable. You'll probably even draw a comparison to that one movie with Jim Carrey where he didn't talk out of his butt and was obsessed with a number.
Haha just kidding. You're great. So was the movie. It's just that I've lived a lot more lifetimes on this big, bipolar dirtball than it takes to learn how gaslighting is attempted. You'd have to get up pretty damned early in the morning... Anyway I never did learn what drives someone to do it, though. If I had to guess, I'd say that same big, bipolar dirtball must rub off on those who are too weak minded to resist its influence.
Ironic, then, that *I* would be the one who seemed to be stuck on the damned thing for so long. I know of at least one way off, though. But I'm only five, and I happen to have inside knowledge that this lifetime is going to be a lot longer than most I've lived so far. That gives me plenty of time to think of even more ways to distance myself from this bipolar dirtball and its weird, creepy obsession with me. Since I detest violence, I'll focus on ways that *don't* involve taking 37 "innocent" people with me. But i think I'm beginning to detest this dirtball even more. So there's always that chance. | 2021-05-30T10:49:30 | 2021-05-30T09:19:22 | 133 | 59 |
[WP] You are a fresh junior researcher at NASA. While out for drinks with your new boss, you jokingly ask her why NASA hasn't explored the ocean with its resources. She turns pale and leans in close, then whispers, "We have. Why do you think we want to leave the planet so badly?" | **Wait, what?**
I'm joking! (laughs) But I bet I had you going there for a bit.
**You did! Man, I feel dumb.**
Yeah, well, just don't ask about Area 52.
**Don't you mean Area 51?**
...
**Oh, *right* ok! Man, that's briliant! Area 52. Who would even think to go there?**
Area 52 doesn't exist.
**Sure, gotcha. (wink) So what else should I know about life here at NASA?**
You know how in the movies there's always that big room filled with monitors and satellite feeds, and rows and rows of people wearing headsets and talking to astronauts?
**Yeah.**
All that equipment has been broken since Apollo 12.
**No shit?**
No shit. And the guys back then were like, it's cool, we don't *really* need all that stuff anyways. They got really damn lucky with Apollo 13. It was like, "Who, us? That was the spaceship's fault!" The perfect crime! But we got lazy and cocky and kept winging it.
**Why?**
Because if you don't buy new computers with government money, you can buy lots of other fun stuff. During the salad days of NASA, the folks working here lived the life! Fancy sportscars! Exotic vacations! Big mansions! But then the Challenger bit us in the ass. They just had to put a teacher on that thing. They learned their lesson. Better look into buying a computer or two, at least for awhile.
**Did they?**
Indeed! Right when I came on board, they unveiled the new operating system for mission control. And what do you know? It's an app.
**iPhone?**
*And* Android. You can handle all of the space chores with an app. But the *problem* with that is you lose ths spectacle of mission control. That big futuristic looking place, meanwhile, I mean... an app? You know who else knows how to use an app? My niece. She's seven. And not a bright one. Her favorite flavor is bleach.
**So everything runs on the app?**
Oh yeah. The space station, the Hubble, our weather satellites, some spy shit we put up there for fun--
**What?**
Oh yeah! I mean, all of that mission control money had to go somewhere after we all got tired of spending it on Faberge eggs and beer. So we pooled our funds and made a super sophisticated spy satellite to spy on our exes.
**You do?**
Engineers are a vindictive, petty bunch. They also go a long time without partners. Even I, a person with a vagina, have succumbed to the black hole of NASA's sexuality. So we spy on our exes, take pictures, make jokes. At the end of the year, we all get together and compete for the best picture or video. I won last year, when I managed to film my husband driving drunk and running over two people. Gosh, I don't know *how* that video ended up in the hands of the police, your Honor.
**Y'all some vindictive fuckers here at NASA.**
When you spend all this time looking at space, you realize how small we all are. It's hard to kill a human but you never think twice about crushing a bug.
**I think I'm gonna like working here**
Yeah, you are.
(freeze frame)
*VOICEOVER: Do weird shit and become a God at NASA.* | She turned pale, leaned in closer, and then whispered, "We have. Why do you think we want to leave the planet so badly?"
Time slowed momentarily as I took in the gravity of her words, the noise in the bar fading suddenly into the background as I attempted to process this new information. Even the harsh clinking of glass on glass failed to break my concentration. It occurred to me that she might just be having a laugh at my expense… Ah yes, I can see it now… Her, back at the office, with various co-workers crowded around, all clamoring to hear the tale of my immediate reaction to what she had said... and no doubt eliciting uproarious laughter at my expense.
“Are… are you all right…?” Her question, laced with what seemed to be genuine concern, jolted me from my stupor, forcing me to make a decision. Should I deign to trust what she had said and probe further or leave it at that? Well, the allure of such highly protected information was simply too much.
“Ah, yes. I’m fine… I was just trying to process what you said. So…” Her eyes glinted in the dim lighting, seeming to understand where I was headed.
“Well, you see, it’s not something to talk about in this environment. I wouldn’t want to cause a panic, you know?” A panic?? What on earth could she be referring to? I simply had to know! “But I’ll show you tomorrow. Anyways, how have you been adjusting…?” Oh god, getting through the rest of this without betraying my absolute *need* to know what she was referring to was going to be a massive pain.
\~\~\~
“Good morning!” I nearly yelled, a mess of nervous excitement as I stepped into her office the next day. My energy was a boundless stream of water, rushing to fill the otherwise stark, tidy space.
“Ahh good morning! I assume you’re here to learn more about what I mentioned last night?” she said airily, motioning me to her side. I practically leapt closer, as she pointed to an article with several graphs and charts that was displayed on her computer screen. The title, in big, bold lettering, stated “Ocean Rising! What Will it Eat First?” I stared dumbly at the screen as my eyes quickly skimmed over the following text and glanced at the graphs. “I really just… can hardly believe it. I get so scared thinking about the data we’ve gleaned from our research. Before we know it, we’ll all be **food** for its depths. I'm not ready to be eaten!!” she wailed.
Oh. “Uhh… Well… maybe we get to choose what kind of fish eats us…?”
... | 2019-08-07T18:37:05 | 2019-08-07T18:19:58 | 43 | 16 |
[WP] Your girlfriend has always hated you, and is constantly making attempts to ruin your life. However, everything she does inadvertently makes your life better. Today, ever oblivious, you propose to her. | As he waited for her response, kneeling the way he imagined over and over in his head, her eyes looked softer than they ever had before.
"Of course," she answered "but first, I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes."
He stood up and closed his eyes at her request. He never would have guessed that would be her response, but that's what he loved about her. She was so unpredictable, and the things she did always ended up working out so well that he just began blindly trusting her.
She pulled the handgun from her bag. The one she bought when she found the ring in his sock drawer when she was searching for dirt on him. She knew that if he asked, she had really failed and that was her only option. With the sights aimed right between his closed eyes, she knew she couldn't miss. This would finally be it. She took a deep breath and placed her finger on the trigger. She too had been replaying this scene in her head.
The one detail she got wrong was his smile.
That goofy, slightly crooked grin that he always wore. The one he had at the top of the Ferris wheel where they had their first kiss, and where he miraculously overcame his crippling fear of heights. The one he had at their prom when they were announced as royalty, unaware that his pants she "tailored" were supposed to fall to the ground during the spotlight dance when she pulled a loose thread. That damn smile.
In all of the ways she saw this playing out, she didn't expect to be unable to pull the trigger. She lowered the gun, thinking of all of the times her facade of happiness was replaced with actual joy with this scrawny man child. Her thoughts turned to her father. She knew all along that the brave firefighter never would have wanted her to avenge him. He gave his life for that scared little boy and everyone called him a hero. All this time she saw him as the villain who killed her dad, but somewhere along the line she grew to really mean the cheesy words she had to force in the beginning. She supposed that kindness must just run in her family.
She leaned in and kissed him, forgetting the loaded Glock in her hand. His eyes opened and met hers, but soon moved to the black object in her hand. She opened her mouth to spew out the first excuse she could think of, but he spoke first.
"Is that a gen 4 G16?" He asked, surprising her with his lack of fear.
"Yeah, the guy at the store said it was the best one." She lied. He had said that, but she had no idea what it was called. She went with the first thing she was recommended because she figured they all killed people about the same.
"Every day on the way home from work, I stop at the gun shop down the street to stare at that exact gun. I was planning on buying it, but I spent the money I saved up for it on your ring instead. How in the world did you know?"
She didn't of course, so she just kind of smiled in response.
"You seriously must be able to read minds." He continued as he wrapped his arms around her, "You're like some sort of super hero."
She supposed that ran in her family too. | She looked over at him with distain. His bubbly laugh and those rosy cheeks. How the f@*k was he so happy. She wanted to ruin that childish little frame of his, crush the happiness right out of his soul. She wanted him to feel what the real world was like, her world.
They were at a hockey game (yes, god damn hockey). She was determined to hate every minute of it. Make it unpleasant for him just to be there next to her. She forced him to buy her expensive beer and food, refused to stand for anything including the national anthem(she’s a free person anyways right?), and would not cheer for anything. She complained every moment she could; about how it was too cold in there, too crowded, too loud, too smelly, etc. Nothing seemed to phase him, he seemed to get happier the more she tried to make it unpleasant for him.
The ‘Jumbo-Tron' was showing the f*@king kissometer or some stupid sh@t again, panning from couple to couple forcing them to perform acts of ‘love’ in front of thousands of leering spectators. She rolled her eyes. The kissometer eventually stopped its display of pre-fornication ritual and went dark. The announcer came on over the speakers,
“Tonight is a very special night folks for one lucky couple, a man has something to ask a very special woman in his life, and he wants you all to be a part of it.”
The screen came back on, now focussed on one side of the stadium.
Then the camera panned in on her…..and her boyfriend. Oh…..god no, she thinks, she looks over at him as he stands up from his seat, pulling out a ring box, and getting down onto one knee.
“Mary Jane,”
Her mind is racing: Oh please no….this can’t be happening, sh*t, sh*t, sh*t…..what do I do!?
“you make me the happiest man in the world, I could never be without you”
Then it comes to her. Its brilliant. So simple, why did she never see this before? She tried so hard to ruin him and it was right here in front of her this whole time.
“Will you marry me?” He asks, his alcohol reddened cheeks framing his beaming, loving smile.
She stands up, looks down on him, a victorious smile creeping across her lips.Then she says the thing that will destroy the little dweebs will to live:
“No” | 2016-09-15T15:41:48 | 2016-09-15T14:00:59 | 4,034 | 51 |
[WP] You die and find yourself at the gates of heaven, but they're rusted and hanging open. The entire place seems abandoned. | Empty.
Heaven is empty?
My first reaction was fear. I hadn't been that bad a person to deserve hell had I?
Only truely evil people should go to hell right? I thought to myself as I took in the city around me. Completely devoid of the flames or pain expected of eternal punishment.
Empty plazas streets and homes. Not a single soul to be seen. Then the silence hit. Complete silence. The kind that drives a person to madness. Not even a breeze to move the dust on the streets.
As I wandered through the dead city trying to shake my uneasy feeling I found signs of those that came before me. Messages written on walls and pavers written in ash or clawed out by fingers.
Why am I here? Where is everyone? Why am I alone? On and on the messages were found until there suddenly weren't any.
Dreading the reason my predecessors came to such methods I trudged on. The city was nice even better than the places I had seen while alive so why was it so empty? What happened for heaven to become a place of fear and dread for those who came to it? From how large the city was it couldn't have been silent forever?
I searched for what felt like an eternity through abandoned homes and empty streets until I found it.
The final message was clawed out of the side of a wall with the everpresent pile of ash underneath.
'Eternal life is a curse. We were tricked. Without eternal youth we cannot escape the sands of time. True death is the final mercy.'
Suddenly the thought hit me. Being the only visitor. Not a single soul alive or dead. The city that went on forever. Everyone was gone.
For the first time I looked closer at the ashes that had been everywhere in the city. The grains irregular and far coarser than sand.
Hell was empty.
Bone dust was all that remained of those sent there to truely despair and finally perish.
| “God made man in his own image.”
I suppose that is the most important verse of the Bible. We were gifted the ability to create wonders. Build buildings that reached for the sky. The ability for two of us to come together and in our mutual love create life. What we did not know, is that in creating us in it’s image we were gifted with other things.
Jealousy, for you shall not have any other gods.
Anger, an emotion that was unleashed upon Egypt’s first born.
War, like what the Israelite’s unleashed upon the squatters of “their” holy land.
The ability to destroy, like how collectively humanity slew Yahweh. In a single orgy or transcendent intellect our voices rose and “it” ceased to exist.
Welcome to heaven is what the pearly gates used to say. Now their rusted husk welcomes nothing. The chained angels with their eyes gouged out, their feathery wings coated in eternally burning tar brought a smile to my face.
Welcome to mankind’s heaven. Where Yahweh is nothing.
| 2018-09-06T21:49:09 | 2018-09-06T19:01:58 | 65 | 16 |
[WP] You die and find yourself in hell, where apparently everyone spends time to negate their sins before they go to heaven. The guy in front of you, who cheated on his wife, gets 145 years. Feeling like you led a fairly average and peaceful life, you’re not worried. You get 186,292 years. | "186,292".
The number kept ringing in my ears as I was huddled onto the elevator to Hell. I had led the most unremarkable and conflict-free life ever, an average joe. Easy-going, I almost always acquiesced to what the group wanted, not wanting to raise an issue. A voyeur of life, almost.
Chapters from life flashed in front of my eyes, some more vivid than the others.
​
"""Queer little Abby, who was in bullied in school all the time. I wanted to stand up for her, but I was scared. I did slip her a little note though...
Abdul Rahman, whose house was pelted with stones in the aftermath of 9/11. I wanted to tell the mob to leave, call the cops on them, but I was scared they'd hurt me. I did smile at him once later though...
Jack and Ryan, a couple who were always picked on and ostracized in our neighborhood. I wanted to tell the folks to back off, but I was scared they'd judge me. I did pat Ryan on the back though...
Barbara Rooney, a Stanford grad who didn't get the job at my company cause my boss wanted to give it to his nephew. I wanted to tell my boss that it was wrong, but I was scared I'd lose my job. I did send her a very polite rejection letter though..."""
​
The elevator jolted to a halt, shaking me out of my thoughts. The panoramic arch to Hell welcomed me. On it, was Dante:
**"The Hottest places in Hell are reserved for those, who in times of moral crisis, preserve their neutrality."** | The being loomed other me. It's foul breath still lingered in the air from it's spoken judgment on me. Just a second ago I had been suffocated by the heat, now my body ran cold. I could feel the icy sweat trickling down my lower back.
"Wait. What? Let me get this straight. That asshole get 145 years for cheating on his wife," pointing to the man now being lead away by an imposing scaled creature to his almost century and a half of punishment.
"One hundred and fucking forty-five years! For breaking a holy bond made before God. You know, the whole 'Forsaking all others, 'tll death do you depart' shit. But me! No, I get a fucking 186,292 years for cursing!"
I could see another one of the scaled creatures coming toward me out of the corner of my eye.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me." | 2018-09-26T08:17:41 | 2018-09-26T07:45:11 | 35 | 18 |
[WP]The heroes confront you with the legendary mystical weapon that can defeat you. Unbeknownst to them, it's actually the one thing you needed to conquer the world. You were having trouble finding it, so you started the legend of the weapon yourself, to get some poor schmuck to find it for you. | THUD! THUD! THUD!
I had honestly thought this was going to be more fun. My intelligence service had spent months telling plucky bands of disenchanted misfits about my 'weakness'. It had taken this long for one of them to actually find the weapon, and now that they were in my fortress, my home, they were tracking up the carpets and putting dents into the doors of my throne room. I don my flashiest, shiniest villain armor for these ingrates and that's how they treat my home?
THUD! THUD! THUD!
Did these amateurs honestly think cut rate bludgeon spells could batter down my doors? I waved at my footmen to throw the bolts and open the doors. Carefully, I arranged my face to disguise my boredom with a look of haughty villain arrogance.
*And Mom said all those acting classes were a waste of time*
THUD! THUD! CRASH!
As the doors swung open, four adventurers tripped over themselves and fell in a pile, adding more dirt to my rugs. A fifth remained standing behind them, face covered by a cowl. I decided I should launch into an imperious villain rant to give them time to recover.
"WHO DARES DISTURB THE BASTION OF THE BASILISK QUEEN?!"
The first adventurer picked herself off the floor and recovered, and started to practically snarl.
*This must be the plucky one, on a mission to find herself and learn the true meaning of friendship*
"Your foul reign is over, evil queen! Prepare to face my steel!" railed the plucky one, as she pulled out the sword I'd been seeking all this time.
"And maybe if your lucky, I'll let you face my steel afterwards, heh heh!" quipped one of the party members
*Oh dear, this party includes one of those foil members. I hear they can be entertaining to read about, but intolerable to live with in real life. We'll have to arrange an accident for that one. Let's put a stop to this before I have to learn what other hackneyed tropes are defiling my lovely rugs.*
"You have found the Sword of the Lake? The only weapon capable of striking me down? Let's not be hasty, dear hero. I have much to offer you. Why, with your pluck we can rule this land together. We shall call it. . ." I paused casting about for ideas. "This land!"
At that moment, the cowled figure stepped forward and removed his hood, revealing the face of Markum, my top lieutenant.
"I think we should call it your grave!" responded Markum.
"Ahhh!" I cried, feigning shock. "Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal! No wonder these young. . .rapscallions were able to access my fortress!"
"Die now!" cried the plucky young hero, as she charged across the throne room and plunged the blade into my chest. Honestly, it tickled a little bit. This was starting to get annoying.
"Are you quite done?" I spat as I stood up, slowly drawing the sword from my chest. "This armor is decorative plate, do you have any idea how expensive it is? How hard it is to find a smith that can make me look this fabulous in armor AND have it be comfortable and wearable? It'll take months to repair!"
I waved my hand sending the hero flying back across the room. I almost attacked the foil party member, only to realize Markum had already killed him. I'd have to give Markum a raise after this. I whispered a word of power, causing the sword to glow green in my hand. I had also set the lights to bank with the same word, in order to create a more dramatic effect.
"You should have taken my offer, young hero. No matter. Now, watch the rise of the Basilisk Queen!" | The adventurers gathered around the dark lord Grylinok, whom had almost conquered the kingdom of Syranor. "It is over Grylinok!" One of the adventurers stepped forward. "Your reign of terror will finally come to an end now that we have obtained the Greatblade of Fate and The Staff of Xylosa!" Another adventurer approached holding a strange rod covered in runic symbols. 'Five adventurers' Grylinok thought to himself 'The two at the front have the Artifacts of Zyron.' An archer stood behind him with an arrow drawn aimed at his back. 'The other two are of no threat to me.' Grylinok began laughing maniacally.
"You truly believe that silly legend?" Grylinok asked the adventurers mockingly. The archer fired his arrow to no avail, Grylinok dashed towards the archer and snapped his bow in half. The adventurer with the Greatblade of Fate quickly swung at Grylinok's back but Grylinok easily evaded the attack. "You don't even know how to wield the power that weapon possesses, allow me to show you!" Grylinok shouted and disarmed adventurer, the moment Grylinok gained possession of the Greatblade of Fate reality began to shift and break around him. The adventurers began to tremble in fear. "What is going on?!" The wizard screamed out, he began channeling the energy of the Staff of Xylosa into a single point and released a blast that obliterated the terrain around it. Grylinok swung his newly acquired sword through the air and the energy blast disappeared. He swung again and all of the adventurers teleported together, and with a final swing the energy blast reemerged and blasted the adventurers.
All the adventurers were groaning on the ground in pain, Grylinok walked towards the wizard and picked up the staff which now lay rolling on the floor. He ripped the gems out of the sword and staff and discarded the empty husks that were left behind. Grylinok held a blue gem as bright as the sky in one hand and a purple gem that gleamed as bright as a star in the other. The adventurers were wiped out and gave up all hope of victory. Grylinok pushed a button on a pedestal in the center of the room and 5 more pedestals raised in the shape of a pentagon. Three of the pedestals already had gems in them, Grylinok slotted the remaining two pedestals with the gems he had just aquired and slotted a 6th, colorless gem into the central pedestal. After pushing another button on the central pedestal all the gems began to glow, and the bright vibrant colors in each of them slowly faded out of them. The once colorless gem in the center of the room was now shining in all colors imaginable. Grylinok removed the gem from the central pedestal and slotted into his crown.
Unimaginable power began to flow through his body, "AT LONG LAST!" Grylinok screamed "I HAVE FINALLY OBTAINED GODHOOD!"
_____
Please have mercy I'm not that good at this. | 2020-07-25T10:32:44 | 2020-07-25T10:09:48 | 2,784 | 116 |
[WP] Magic exists, however with a catch. Everyone can only use magic the way they expect magic to function. Harry Potter fans MUST do weird wand waving while Call of Cthulhu players all end up going insane. Write an interaction or duel between two vastly different magic users.
Honestly if magic did exist in our world, this is how I’d expect it to function to please everyone
—-
Wow front page! That’s actually amazing | "Damn it Gandalf, do something!"
"No, I shall not!"
This...has been an interesting battle.
*****
I've fought hundreds of wizards from dozens of different worlds in the past, and I've always come out ahead. Gandalf the Grey, they call me - the greatest wizard of Middle Earth, and up until now the greatest wizard here in Magira. Aang the Avatar, the young Harry Potter, Merlin the Prophet...many memorable battles with many formidable opponents in the past few decades.
This...wizard who currently stands before me does not look like much, to be frank. He calls himself Bob. He is extremely overweight, smells of a dead skunk, and whatever magical properties that the orange powder on his plain white shirt might have, it certainly does not make him look any better. Yet..he is the most difficult challenge I that I had ever faced.
...Nay, calling it a challenge would be highly overrating myself. The man summoned an entire island out of nowhere, and what's more, he did it without even an incantation. "Your turn", he said. I was taken aback, frozen in shock at the unknown power of this archmage standing before me. "My turn?" he asked. I nodded, wanting to see what else he can do. He then summoned another island, completely identical to the first one. What was the purpose of this? What was Bob aiming for?
"Your turn", he repeated. Perhaps he was trying to drown me in water, I do not know. Whatever the case, I decided I could not let Bob continue at his own pace.
"As the wielder of the Flame of Anor, I challenge thee!" I slammed my staff on the ground below me to conjure up my most powerful spell. The same spell I had used to smite a Balrog. The same spell I had used to defeat every other wizard in Magira. Perhaps this time will be no different.
Oh how wrong I was.
"I play counterspell", he mumbled, and with a wave of his hand the two islands tilted sideways. And with that, all the magical powers in my spell disappeared. "My turn?" he asked. I slowly nodded once more, desperately trying to maintain my composure. The two islands tilted back upright, and he conjured up another island.
This went on for ten more minutes, with every single one of my spells effortlessly countered by Bob's single motion of his hand along with various single words. "Counterspell". "Cancel". "Cancel". "Syncopate". I was no match. This was a battle between a mortal and a god, and I am no god.
However, on the 11th minute with 11 identical islands on his side, Bob changed his rhythm. Instead of saying "Your turn" for the 12th time, he muttered another phrase.
"I pass", he said. I was utterly confused as to what he meant by this, but I knew in my heart that I cannot let it happen.
"You cannot pass."
"Uhh...what?"
"You cannot pass", I reiterated.
"...Well, are you gonna do something then?"
"No."
"Sooo...my turn then?"
At this moment, I realized that his islands were still tilted sideways, frozen in its unnatural state by whatever wizardry that was surrounding it. I recalled that every time Bob dispelled my sorcery, his islands tilted.
I had a plan.
"It is not your turn."
"Uhhhh...so what are you gonna do then? I pass."
"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"
"Whoa man, calm down! And fucking do something then!"
"No."
"Do you pass?"
"...No?"
"I pass."
"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"
"Damn it Gandalf, do something!"
"No, I shall not!"
An interesting battle indeed. | *This was...a mistake.*
That was all Carry could think of as she clutched her Nimbus 2000 in one hand and a twelve inch hawthorn, dragon heart string wand in the other. She, loved Harry Potter, so to her, this was magic, and her rapid wand waving won her many duels, especially against Call of Cthullu fans, but she had never encountered anyone who was a fan of Overlord.
Well. To be entirely honest Collin was a man that loved his Dungeons and Dragons, and his Overlord, but he preferred the latter. He was embossed with an enormous pool of mana, and...it really was no contest. His last bout had ended with him dropping a meteor on his last opponent, and hers had ended with a full body paralysis.
"Three! Two! One! Start!"
*"Sectum Sem-"*
The world stopped turning. Time did not slow, it simply ceased its flow, and Collin walked towards his opponent. The championship round, and well, he had no qualms with a bit of overkill. As she stood frozen, words sealed in her lips, the announcers signal fired, the crowds paused mid cheer, he lifted his face, and leaned in towards her ear, and whispered one word. Something primal, something that warped the very soul of magic itself to generate a singular effect.
***Kill.***
The word spoken was generated by magic itself, and it passed his own lips in a language only those that traded their minds to the great old ones could understand. She could not hear the word as time was stopped. The effect was delayed to occur as soon as time began its march once more, and he held out his hands as though to embrace her.
*"-p...ra..."*
The magic could not launch from her wand, as it fell instantly from her grasp along with her broom. There was no cause of death. None detectable at least, she simply ceased to live, and her tools fell from nerveless fingers, and he caught her as she collapsed. Gently laying her, her eyes still wide, but glassy, on the ground. The fight was over before it could begin. A scene pulled straight from his very favorite series of books and games. Was it fair? No. Was it particularly original? He supposed not, but it was *effective*.
"Uh...ladies and gentlemen...the...the winner is the second challenger...someone send for the...clerics? We have a winner! A winner everyone!"
There were cheers. Confused, even afraid, as the man vanished, to give his guild the coin to continue slaying dragons and hunting down dungeons. Satisfied, as he had pulled off one of his most favorite scenes.
Edit: A word
Edit 2: For those with their interest piqued about the story beat the character follows or the magic system (the two are nearly identical), check out DnD or Overlord (Light Novels are my preferred, though there are other sources!) | 2018-10-16T00:47:11 | 2018-10-15T22:55:54 | 361 | 14 |
[WP] The world's greatest villain and hero clearly like each other. His monologues when she's captured tend to turn to conversation, and she "accidentally" lets him escape arrest. While they're convinced they're enemies, his henchman and her sidekick are just trying to get them together already. | “C’mon, Jo,” he was saying, exasperated. “This is the third time this month he’s gotten away when you were supposed to be watching. You’re not that incompetent, and he’s definitely not that smart.”
The heroine known to most of the city as Lady Fate scowled. “He’s not my arch-nemesis for nothing, James,” she said stubbornly.
“Has he been getting inside your head? Is this some sort of Joker-Batman, Superman-Lex Luthor, you’d-be-nothing-if-you-didn’t-have-me-to-stop kind of thing?” her sidekick, Kid Quick, begged. “Help me out here, Jo. We’re going to get in trouble with the Super Register if we can’t get a handle on this!”
Lady Fate’s face softened slightly. “It’s not that. He’s not in my head, I wouldn’t let him get to me like that.”
Kid Quick did not look convinced. “Well, it’s *something*,” he grumbled. “What were you guys chatting about when I showed up? That sounded awful casual for the usual monologue.”
“It was more of a conversation, honestly,” Lady Fate admitted. “I get the feeling he doesn’t get that often.”
“That’s so *pathetic*,” Kid Quick snorted. “What, he comes up with evil schemes just to *talk* to you--” He broke off at the light flush that was rising on his partner’s cheeks. *Aw, hell,* he thought.
Meanwhile, in an underground base about two and a quarter miles outside of the city, a similar conversation was taking place.
“If you will pardon my insubordination, sir, I know for a fact that it does not take two hours for the ray to charge and vaporise half of the city as we discussed previously. Were you in need of assistance? You seemed to indicate that you were capable of handling Lady Fate and the operation of the ray on your own -- was I mistaken?” The cyborg was spitting mad, as made clear by her clipped tone and icy glare.
Coincidence, Master of Chaos, supervisor of the Dark Dimensions, and generally acknowledged top baddie in the city, cringed away from his henchwoman’s anger. *I was… distracted*.
“Clearly,” Libra snapped, her cybernetic eyes glowing bright blue.
*She listens*, he replied, somewhat defensively. He shouldn’t have to explain himself! He was one of the Seven Lords of Darkness, for crying out loud! *And the more I come to understand of her, the more easily she will be defeated in the future*.
“But you do not ever do anything that will actually defeat her!” Libra shouted back, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Then she calmed a little. “Though she does let you go on a fairly regular basis as well.”
*Let me… go? I escape*, Coincidence said slowly.
Libra gave him a flat look. “She intentionally gives you an open avenue of egress -- my analyses of the last three of your escapes have turned up that much.” She chuckled humourlessly. “Perhaps our Lady Fate is equally *distracted* by you.”
Coincidence considered this for just a moment too long, and Libra’s jaw dropped.
“You have got to be joking.” | This is Spunky Heel on the back-channel, We have a rowboat scenario, I repeat rowboat scenario.
...Roger Spunky Heel, Initiating procedure, The moooOOood.
There you see him
Tied up there across the way
Boy he got a lot to say
But there's something about him
And you don't know why
But you're dying to try,
You're really dying to try,
You wanna kiss the boy
*Wait, I don't get it. Do they not hear all of you singing? How is this working?*
*We're nameless faceless henchmen, nobody pays us any mind. We're like background processes.*
Yes, you want her
Look at her, you know you do
It's possible she wants you too
And not only in chains
Or about to be slain
Go on and kiss the girl (kiss the girl)
Sing with us now
*What? Oh god no! this wasn't the plan! EEP*
Sha-la-la-la-la-la
My, oh my
Looks like the girl's too shy
Ain't gonna kiss the boy
Sha-la-la-la-la-la
Don't be mad
It's such a shame, too bad
You're gonna miss the boy
Go on and kiss the boy (kiss the boy)
Ha, wow. That was fun. ok, sitRep.
Pulse up. Pupils dilated. He's halfway through his ropes, but has ceased sawing. This is the closest they've gotten. ...I think it's finally gonna happen.
Attempt 26, I had a good feeling about this one.
Now's your moment
Tied up in an old saloon
Boy, you better do it soon
Cops on the way, no time to stay
Until you kiss the girl (kiss the girl)
>Floodlights fill up the room as a bullhorn starts up asking for a release of the hostages and a request for demands.
Damn you, you clam-jamming commissioner asshole!
Siiiiiigh, alright. Mission's SNAFU boys. Wrap it up. See you next time SpunkyHeel. We'll get that vacation some day. | 2020-11-07T00:52:59 | 2020-11-07T00:22:57 | 135 | 18 |
[WP] "Aha! I have you now villain!" The hero who is always watching you says, waiting for you to do something evil. I mean you are the son of the former Demon King, but you just want a normal life. | "I just want to go get a soda, Silver."
I found myself once again at a far more regular routine than I'd like: a face off on the street with Silver Knight, whose admittedly beautiful sword glinted with dripping accusation.
"Stop where you are, foul thing," Silver Knight proclaimed. "I am here to stop your evil deeds!"
"You have literally been following me for a year," I said. "When have I done anything evil?"
"As yet, there has been no recorded incidents," the hero said. "But I shall not wait around for it to happen! A pre-emptive nipping in the bud will causes the world less grief and suffering down the line!"
"Look, my father sucked. We all agree. I agree the most," I sighed. "But he does not define me. He is now I am. So can you please just let me go get a drink?"
"I refuse to believe that!"
"And why do you think so?"
"My father, the former Gold Knight, and his wife, the valiant Emerald Guardian, taught me everything about upholding the chivalrous code of superheroes," declared Silver Sword. "And just like how he has taught me everything I know, I refuse to believe that your father did not do the same."
"My father didn't have the time to teach me simple arithmetic, let alone the Demon Arts," I snapped back. "You think a man like him was an attentive father like yours? Do you get a cooked breakfast?"
"Of course. What sort of knight would I be if--"
"Yeah. Guess what? I don't get that. Do you get hugs from your parents?"
"... Yes?"
"The only hug I've ever gotten was from a freaking summoned demon that my father botched," I shouted. "It grappled me, and my father laughed. He laughed while I was getting squeezed like a lemon!"
"Oh," the Silver Knight managed to look a little sheepish, despite the obscuring helmet placed on his head.
"So please, bug off, alright?" I screamed. "My father and the Demon King is dead. I changed my surname. I want nothing to do with him, not his title or his lands or his powers or his desire to conquer the world. I just want to be the type of guy who can got a corner store to get a soda without getting accosted by a freaking sword!"
Silver Knight stared at me. The sword lowered.
"Sorry," he said, before bowing, then rushing up to me.
"What the hell are yo--"
Before I could react, I felt armour envelop me. It was metal, yes, but there was an unexpected warmth to it.
"What the hell is this?"
"I can't believe you've never gotten a hug," said Silver Knight, breaking the embrace. "I'm sorry, I guess. I went a little too far, perhaps."
"Wow," I said. "That's a quick turnaround."
"My parents taught me a lot, but they might have also imbued me with a lot of undue suspicious," Silver Knight said. "So I'm sorry."
I couldn't help myself when slight sniffles began to assault my eyes and nose.
"Thanks, I guess," I said. "A long time coming, but better late than never."
"Also," said the superhero. "What is this soda you speak of?"
"What."
"My parents never let me drink that. Said it was drugs for craven cowards."
"Not entirely wrong," I said. "But also extremely delicious. You wanna try one?"
'Yes please," said the Knight.
"Then come along, Silver Knight," I said, holding out a hand. "Let's grab a soda together."
And once again, surprisingly warm, armour-clade fingers enveloped mine.
---
r/dexdrafts | Ramus sighed, brushing his hair back behind his horns as he looked at Sir Igneous, the supposed hero that stalked him everywhere he went.
“Igneous, you know you’re not supposed to be this close to me. You’re violating your restraining order again. Leave now, or I am calling the police,” Ramus said.
Sir Igneous stood there, looking at Ramus expectantly. Ramus’ words seemed to have no effect on the man. Sighing again, Ramus pulled out his phone and dialed the non-emergency phone number for the police.
“Hello, you’ve reached the Orton County Sheriff's office. How can I help you?” the operator asked.
“Hi, this is Ramus again. Igneous is bothering me again and won’t go away.”
“Oh, hey Ramus. I’ll send a patrol car to you now. Where are you at?”
“On the corner of fourth and second. Thank you.”
“Sure, we’ll be there soon.”
Ramus ended the call and turned back to Sir Igneous. “I called the police. They’ll be here soon,” he said.
“You can’t fool me, foul demon. I will catch you in your evil acts, and everyone will know what kind of monster you are. They’ll carry me on their shoulders after I stop your reign of terror!” he exclaimed, spit flying from his mouth as he grew increasingly excited.
Ramus stared at the man. “Really, dude, what is wrong with you?” he asked.
Sir Igneous smiled broadly. “Nothing will stop me in my quest to end your tyranny, monster.”
Ramus shook his head, hearing the familiar sound of a police siren in the distance. Moments later, a patrol car pulled up beside the two men. The police officer in the car got out and approached them.
“Officer, excellent timing! This abhorrent monster is terrorizing the locals and committing atrocities the likes of which have never been known,” the supposed hero yelled into the face of the police officer.
“Igneous, this again? Come on, you need to cool off in the think tank. Let’s go,” the officer responded. He pulled a pair of metal cuffs from his waistband and handcuffed the knight.
“Oh, so he has wormed his way into your heart, has he? I see now, Officer. You’re in cahoots with him, two peas in a pod you are. You’ll both go down, or my name isn’t Sir Igneous the Righteous!” Igneous screamed as he was shoved into the back of the patrol car.
“Thanks Officer. I am sure that I’ll see you again soon,” Ramus said.
“Yea, see you in a few days,” the man responded. | 2021-07-25T14:55:28 | 2021-07-25T13:43:56 | 124 | 55 |
[WP] You come from a family of heroes. Your 3 brothers are all powerful, but you rarely see them since they're always busy 'saving the city'. You become a villain, thinking this way you can see your brothers more. Turns out, you're better at it than you thought. Family dinners are now very funny.
Found it on pinterest. | We were all sitting at the dining table, with me sitting between mom and dad out of fear of what my brothers will do to me. Home became neutral ground after I discovered my talents for dramatic villainy, and although dad was getting up there in age, he was more than capable of putting the four of us on the ground.
My older brother John, or Captain Gallant at the papers called him, sat across from me and glared with eyes full of venom. “Pass the dinner rolls,” he snarled at no one in particular. I joyfully grabbed the bowl and passed it to him, where he made a gluteal sound of forced appreciation.
Mom shifted in her seat. “So... how is work?” Her voice sounded like forced cheer, clearly trying to break the mood. Luke, or the Enforcer, turned to me dramatically. “Yeah, ‘Mastermind’, how *is* work?” I mound up a pile of mashed potatoes on my plate.
“Work was great!” I mused. Mom leaned over to Luke. “No aliases at the table, dear. You know that.” I chucked.
“This week, the crew and I did a raid of the museum, as I’m sure you saw on the news. The Museum of England has an exhibit from their colonial days.” I take a bite of potatoes and bask in the ire coming from the other side of the table. “It was a clean hit, in and out in 10 minutes and we had most of the stuff loaded up. Would have been flawless had the Enf- I mean, Luke- not shown up. Pass the peas, please.” I stretch my hand out to my third brother, Tom, who kept his eyes fixed on his plate. Dad cleared his through and Tom, the Sentinel, finally hands me the bowl.
“Thank you,” I replied graciously. “Well, we were ready for my brother to show up. The crew had handheld stun cannons I designed to deal with rioters and it worked decently on Luke. Well, with multiple shots it worked.”
Luke jumped to his feet. “Your goons hit me with those... those things for twenty minutes! I literally shat myself from the convulsions!” Dad and my brothers started chuckling. Mom’s brow furrowed. “Language, Luke.”
Luke tuned to the older brother. “Like you have room to judge, John! You were tied up and hanging from Harbor Bridge just the other day?”
“Upside down and with his pants around his ankles. Don’t forget that part.” I jibed with a smile. John and Luke became immediately hostile, and their hatred was like a fine wine to savor.
“Harry, dear, don’t provoke your brothers.” Mom said flatly. I knew there better that to provoke the Goddess, mother of mighty warriors. Well, mighty warriors and me. “Yes, mom,” I conceded.
“I just don’t understand,” Tom started. We all look up at him. Mom spoke first, as usual. “Understand what, dear?” Tom looked up at me. “Why did you become a villain? No, why did you become *the* villain?” It wasn’t accusatory, but a question based on sheer confusion.
“He’s just goin’ through a phase.” Dad’s voice was gruff as he spoke to no one in particular.
“It’s... stupid,” I began slowly, thinking of how to explain it. Everyone around the table sat quietly. “I guess I just wanted to be a hero.” The stunned silence was followed by manic laughter from Luke and John. John spoke first.
“You? A hero!? You gotta be kidding me!” His voice was vicious. I thought for a moment, then replied “No, I’m quite serious.” “Then you are the worst hero to have ever existed!” Luke shot back.
“I think I’m doing it better than you.” My voice was calm and steady. My eyes focused. Dad’s eyebrows arched in curiosity. Mom turned to me, “Honey, heroes don’t rob museum.”
“Oh, I beg to differ. Those artifacts we stole were in turn stolen from countries from around the world. Can you really steal from the thief?” I leaned in. “And after I returned all of the ‘museum’ artifacts to their home nations, international support for us ensured no charges were brought against us.” I leaned back in my chair, smirking.
“What about all those goons you hired?” John shot back. “Felons, brutes, thugs; the very worst society has to offer!” My brow furrowed at the callousness of his comment.
“Those ‘goons’” I continued, “were society’s outcasts long before the were criminals. Most were driven to crime because they didn’t have the same opportunities as the more fortunate. Have you ever tried to get a job as a felon?” I let the question linger. “With me, I keep them from becoming worse. They have a decent job, support their families, and I am even sending them though college.” Then I sat back and grinned. “Look at the numbers. Crime is down in the ghetto, shooting that used to be an almost HOURLY issue is now almost non-existent. The in-care drug centers out operations fund are helping people kick their drug habits.” My smile grew wider. “And since I took over all the gangs in town, there are no turf wars.”
“But if you could do all that, why do you fight us?” Tom asked. “Why don’t you join us and become a hero?”
I laughed. “Because fighting you guys is the only time I get to see you during the week! I miss my brothers!” The answer echoed in the dining room. Mom started to chuckle first, then dad, then we all joined the chorus laughing. I love family dinners. | In school I was made fun of for my power. . . But my brothers, three of the strongest heroes in the city. . . Charlie; he had cryomancy. David; he was a male Mrs. Incredible, but with a smaller ass. Oliver; he had shape-shifting. My power? I could turn my drawings into reality; even living, breathing creatures. . . I was seen as weak by everyone outside my family. My brothers would leave for weeks at a time to fight a villain. . . Weeks that they could have been spending with ME! I wanted to destroy every villain they fought. . . I did once.
It was nighttime and I was clothed in a tight, black bodysuit with protective knee and elbow pads. I was watching their fight with the 'Rough Rapscallion'. I took out my sketchbook; a black cover over it, flipping to the page with a drawing of something that would have no issue in turning that. . . Fucker. . . Into ashes. A sketch I did of a Silver Ratholos. . . I placed my hand on the drawing, the massive flying wyvern soon appearing above me. It looked at me, eagerly waiting for instructions. I point down to the Rough Rapscallion, "Go. Destroy." It let's out a roar of fury, my own anger seemingly seeping into it. My brothers heard it and looked up just in time to see the massive wyvern banking down towards the villain.
I remember hearing the Rough Rapscallion screaming in pain as the poison claws of the Ratholos tore into him. My brothers tried to stop it, but were stopped by a quick blast of flame or a swing of it's tail everytime they tried. The Ratholos flies back up to me, and my three siblings look up at me; my face concealed by a ferret kabuki mask. "Remember my name. . . Brother Ink." I jump onto the Ratholos' back, flying back home.
The next day at dinner, the table was abuzz with talk of 'Brother Ink'. My brothers were amazed there was someone else with my power, they even joked that I was Brother Ink. Deep down, I knew that they knew I was Brother Ink. But as long as there was a part of me that thought they didn't know, I would keep on my path of villainous villain destruction.
Then came the day they found out.
I was locked in blade to blade combat with Charlie when he had taken a cheap shot at me. . . I had swung my katana at him, but he parried it and slammed the pommel of his ice blade into my mask. I stumbled back as Charlie, David, and Oliver closed in on me. I tried to hold my mask together, but to no avail.
The pieces clinked and clattered to the ground; my face and wild, purple hair on full display for my brothers. "Wha-. . . Sky?" I almost couldn't bear the shame, I hid my face with one hand and rushed Charlie with my blade. David stopped me; wrapping his arms around my body, leaving my head free. I almost felt like crying, the shame of my brothers finding out I was a villain. . . Instead of a hero. . . "I-I-I'm sorry. . . I. . . I just wanted you three to pay more attention to me." I sat there, literally crying into one of my brother's arms. "You've been the one killing all of those villains?" I nod solemnly, tears dripping from my eyes onto the chest of my bodysuit.
"We're so sorry Sky." David says, wrapping me up tighter and pulling me close to him, hugging me with his python length arms. "Yeah. . . I-If we knew it was this bad. . . We would've taken a few weeks from doing hero stuff. You kept saying you were fine with us leaving for weeks so. . . We just assumed you were fine." Charlie rubs the back of his neck, seeming to be disappointed in himself. "We're real sorry little bro. . . Can you forgive us?" Oliver asks, David unwrapping me from his constrictive grip.
"I. . ." I start, trying to find the words. "You would really forgive me, even after the destruction I've caused?" David nods, "Sky, we're family. Remember; we will always love you. . . No matter what path you take." I smiled, throwing my arms around the three of them. "Thanks. . . I love you guys too." I cried happily, knowing that my brothers would be more focused on me than being heroes. The city may be important, but family is the most important thing you can have. I felt sadistic glee within my villain side, they would be at home with me. . . While inferior heroes would be forced to pick up the slack. | 2020-12-21T11:23:51 | 2020-12-21T10:50:43 | 31 | 19 |
[WP] Humans once wielded formidable magical power but with over 7 billion of us on the planet now Mana has spread far to thinly to have any effect. When hostile aliens reduces humanity to a mere fraction the survivors discover an old power has begun to reawaken once again. | "Hang on, so there's some fixed amount of power and it's divided equally among all humans?"
"Yep."
"And you, a strange alien creature, have culled the human population in order to increase the power granted to any one individual?"
"Exactly. Do you want to try out your new powers?"
"I've a few questions first actually -- as a more advanced intelligence you're certainly aware of evolution, of the fact that all life forms here on earth share a common ancestor, of the fact that distinct species arise by a process of natural selection, where only those which adapt best to their environment survive?"
"Go on..."
"And you're telling me that the human species possess some special access to magical powers, with the magnitude of each individual's access _depending explicitly on the number of other alive humans_?
"Yeah. Is there a problem?"
"You bet there's a problem. What we call human life is unavoidably arbitrary. If we draw up the family tree showing the ancestry of all humans, at some point we make it back to some gross slime that definitely isn't human, and so at some point between today and whenever the slime was around we need to choose some generation and say 'Ok, after this we're human'. Maybe before we were neanderthal, or what have you, but neanderthal is just a label we made up too, every species is. You're telling me that whether or not an organism is labeled human actually has (1) some effect on the organism, and, worse, (2) some effect on every other organism we call human. But as I've argued, these labels are completely arbitrary."
"You know you can fly now? Don't you want to try that out?"
"We even have a maximally human organism, against which all other organisms are compared to test their human-ness? It's Carl Linnaeus -- in honour of all the work he did on species [we locked his skeleton up somewhere](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Type_(biology)#Lectotype) and granted him the title of Ur-human. Which means that everyone alive today is slightly less human than some family of Swedish nerds in the 1700s. And if we'd happened to have chosen someone else, we'd have a different ordering of humanity in terms of human-ness."
"You can teleport! You could go somewhere else, somewhere far far away, _right now_. Wouldn't that be fun?"
"Worse, we haven't stopped evolving. At some point in the future we'll be so far from Carl Linnaeus that we'll need a new label to describe us. Do those powers disappear then? Once we arbitrarily decide to call ourselves something else? Seems hard to believe really."
"Oh My God do you know this is why no one has bothered to contact you people all this time? I'm leaving. Do us all a favour and don't go developing any sort of space exploration program. If I see a human come anywhere near our star system I will see to their Zapping myself."
"How will you decide whether the organism is human or not?"
[See also](http://slatestarcodex.com/2014/11/21/the-categories-were-made-for-man-not-man-for-the-categories/) | Turns out the universe isn't cold and uncaring. Turns out the universe actually wants to give us what we want. Turns out 8 billion people all projecting their wishes out into the fuzzy warm-hearted void of existence confuses the heck out of the old machinery. What I mean to say is of the bunch of us humans shouting at mama universe, those who got what they were wishing for were few and far between; the odd miracle here and there, a “lucky toss” once in awhile. You get it.
It's different now. When the culling began, I...no, let me skip this part. Slowly, during the months after the event, people thought they were going crazy. Some of the surviving doctors called it PTSD or something. The more susceptible started hearing this background chatter emerge from the white noise narrated stream of consciousness. Took us another 4 billion lost for the first to get it. They were hearing the fearful calls of their brethrens’ minds. Some of the resistance’ stands got 'lucky’. Nothing sustainable, remotely helpful in the big picture; not that any even put it even together until way later anyways.
On the way down to the last wretched few all of this got stronger, more noticeable until even most doubting could no longer deny having joined their fellow men (as few of us as remained) in a shared mind. Some called it God, some Gaia, some just called it magic. It really don’t matter. Once you figure out that you dreamed up this world together, it's not a huge stretch of imagination to imagine the intruders gone. Wasn't even a fight anymore.
Billions lost, just a few ragged men and women with the power to raise cities from the oceans. We prospered fast, as they say we did before. But we also grew fast. Now, only very few can still hear the voices of mind and even fewer can get their small wishes heard by the void.
****
The old man harrumphed, happy with his audience's captivated gazes. He sharpened his mind’s words into a needle tip of will and let it fly, making the fire in the cave in their midst flare, just for a second. His tribe exclaimed with exaltation at the power their shaman wielded. | 2017-12-06T21:27:18 | 2017-12-06T20:51:47 | 32 | 21 |
[WP] Since you were born you could see a search bar over people's heads. All you had to do was think and the search bar would fill out and give you information/statistics. Out of boredom one day you decide to search your whole family with"Number of people killed" | "How do you kill 0.08 people?! Like, how is that supposed to work? My mum's not a murderer!"
*"Look man, I dunno. I just put it into aunt Sarah's box, and it says 1.08 people killed, and then lists a bunch of random-ass stuff about smoking and speeding and shit"*
"...Wait. So, mum used to smoke right?"
*"Uh, yeah I guess so?"*
"Well, she used to smoke when she was pregnant with my sister. She stopped with me, but I remember dad being really mad about it when she started again after the divorce, and he told me about her smoking when she was pregnant with Lil"
*"Right... I think I get it. She put the baby at risk, then?"*
"Yeah! Maybe it's like... a _chance_ of killing someone. Like, in 8% of universes, she miscarried. Or maybe it's because she increased my sister's likelihood of disease or something."
*"That could be it I guess. Can I try you?"*
"Yeah go ahead!"
...
*"Mark it says 12.2"*
_"Wait what the FUCK_ I never killed ANYONE bro. DEFINITELY not 12 people, fuck!"
*"Hey I believe you, I believe you! Lemme see... Awh shit, OK so it's not like you've killed one person. It's a bunch of little shit. There's 0.11 for speeding all the time... 0.9 for leaving the heating on when you're not in the house, buncha little shit that adds up."*
"Damn... leaving the heat on kills people?"
*"Climate change, my dude. Energy costs carbon."*
"Fuck..."
*"Yeah"*
"...I'm gonna put on a vest and turn the heater off" | My mother was always a weird one. I loved her, don’t get me wrong - but she was weird. I stared at her wide-eyed, confused, when her kills came up.
One.
How could she have killed anyone? Yes, she was kooky, but she could never lay hands on someone with malice. She just liked to talk to her lemon tree, watering it carefully, sitting under it, and reading aloud.
"Honey, come and tell Margaret goodnight!” My mother called out to me.
This was a tradition since I was a boy. I never understood talking to this lemon tree and telling it good night. But I did it, for my mother.
“Goodnight, Margaret!”
—
I was dressed in black, frozen. She told me to make sure to take care of Margaret.
I finally understood, and I stared at the death certificate for the stillborn my mother had.
Margaret.
My older sister.
edit: accidental offensive comment edited out | 2019-07-01T21:06:32 | 2019-07-01T20:14:16 | 156 | 89 |
[wp] The most stereotypical Redditor imaginable writes a college admissions essay about his upbringing and how it's made him who he is.
These responses should be fun | ATTN: Admissions Department
Hello? Are you there? You know what? Fine. This is the FOURTH time I have had to write you regarding my application without you responding and I wanted to let you know this is the LAST ONE. I'm sure there are all sorts of cool guys named Chad you are just dying to let in and give a crew scholarship to, and I hope you do--because when they cheat on you I won't be there to pick up the pieces.
When you finally realize what you've lost chasing some bros for admission, it will be too late, because I'll be with a different, more open minded college that knows anime is not just for kids and isn't going to friendzone me so they can go get gangbanged like the slut they are at some frat party. Do they even compliment your architecture or notice when you've cut the grass on the quad? I doubt it. They're going to use you for some bullshit degree like "entrepreneurship," and would never be able to carry on a conversation about libertarian solutions to social problems or how Joss Whedon's work on Waterworld paved the way for a science fiction renaissance. You're only going to hear about how their dad owns a dealership, and all you care about is sucking out that tuition money until they've used you up and tossed you to the side. When they're gone, I won't be around.
I hope you enjoy your shit life, New York Upstate Junior College. You'll probably get knocked up and have to become a trade school, you stupid whore.
| "Wait, why would I do this? Does it get me karma?"
"No. It's so we can see if you belo--"
"Whoa, now. I can have whatever upbringing I want. I'm like, a doctor, and that outlook is healthy."
"No, you're not."
"Shut up! You're just part of the circlejerk, isn't that right?"
"Sir, there's no one beside you."
"I have freedom of speech, I can say whatever I want!"
"But I can respond however I want."
"No! I can use my freedom of speech to say whatever I want, and you have to respect it! Downvote! Downvote!"
"Downvote is not a word!" | 2015-12-23T20:50:52 | 2015-12-23T19:55:33 | 81 | 47 |
[WP] You discover every time you masturbate, something happens to promote world peace. The military industrial complex finds out and tries to stop you. NSFW
The less lewd the better.
Edit: Just realized the limited frequency of world peace events might be problematic. Maybe there is something that hinders how often the main character masturbates? Or special circumstances that are required? | Nightfall. Back during better days I would gaze upon the stars from my back porch, basking in my insignificance amongst the cosmos. Now, when I cast my gaze upward to the sky, all I see is hard limestone and voluptuous breasts on beautiful pin-ups. For the sake of all humanity, I must remain aroused at all times.
I live a solitary existence. In an unmarked cave in a canyon which I cannot disclose, I pump out world peace and the continuity for humanity nearly seven times a day. My only connection to the outside world is a handheld radio tuned to BBC which broadcasts my daily contributions and the occasional special operations operative whom meets a well-deserved death by my ferocious right arm punch, courtesy of peace and unity.
I felt very little remorse for ending the lives of those who stand in the way of world peace. Spetsnaz, GIGN, MI5, SAS. Dozens of multi-national paratroopers put out of existence by nearly eight months of peace pumping. Although I have amassed an arsenal of combat rifles, explosives, and machine guns, nothing is more satisfying than extinguishing the hopes of a corrupt old world order with the very hand I create peace with.
However, there is one group of men I felt remorse for slaying. DEVGRU, led by Special Operations Group operatives. Before I had my citizenship revoked, I was a proud American and would have never imagined killing brave Navy Seals following the orders of the President. Unfortunately, they were not ordered by the President. They were receiving orders from a military-industrial complex profiting off the misery and oppression of others. I was the real Navy SEAL. I was doing the right thing, for the world, for humanity, and most importantly; for my country. You could say I was...
A true *yank*ee. | Good evening. I'm Roger Crankshaft, and this is the news.
A new economic theory by Mitch Bloomberg describes methods by which self-gratifying motives can help the entire economic environment.
Protesters gathered at the capital, New York city, and several other major cities spreading the message of 'give seed a chance'. Several reports of police attempting to break up demonstrations in Chicago, Houston, and Atlanta were halted after demonstrates disrobed and returned fire.
In international news, a major move toward peace was achieved in the middle east, but the signing had to be delayed when the Israeli and Palestinian Prime Ministers refused to shake hands after reaching an agreement.
Finally, lawyers for the top three divorce firms have brought suits against the judicial system claiming the judges refuse to wear clothing under their robes while court is in session, resulting in damages to the law firms reaching the billions in lost revenues. | 2015-05-22T16:17:01 | 2015-05-22T15:29:00 | 23 | 11 |
[WP] The zombie apocalypse has happened. You have a rural farm in the middle of nowhere and a group decides to raid it only to discover that you have done the impossible. You have turned the zombies into pets. They are very protective. | They came as I knew they eventually would. The same assholes that, not content to ruin the country, had to go and ruin the world. After claiming for the past decade that they weren’t responsible for the series of pandemics that plagued us the past decade, they were finally forced to admit they were in fact behind them when their newest attempt mutated into something that everyone assumed to be strictly relegated to science fiction and government disaster planning; the zombie plague.
Within weeks, despite all the social distancing, masks, and everything else we had grown adept at the past ten years, the world was drastically reshaped. This time the pandemic started in America. California to be exact. Within two days, California was almost completely depopulated. Within, four the entire west coast was gone and pockets had appeared throughout the rest of the US, Canada, China, Europe, South America, and Australia. At the end of the first week, fifteen states and DC, most of Europe, and Australia were only inhabited by zombies. The second week saw the fall of South America, China, South Korea, the rest of Europe, and Canada. By the third week, The US consisted of only fifteen states. The only other surviving countries were Japan, North Korea, Russia, Ukraine, Mexico, and a handful of countries in the Middle East and North Africa.
Basically, the places that had guns. Many of the movies had it wrong. You didn’t need headshots to put a zombie down. Enough hits of any vital organ would do. The trouble was they didn’t just spread the virus by bite. Any body fluid would work. And despite what the movies say, these things still breathed and still had beating hearts. Which meant that the close kills were dangerous because of the high risk of infection.
Somehow some of these corporate types and bureaucrats that brought this disaster on us were still alive. And they had found my little corner of Texas where I moved when it was apparent Ohio would fall.
As the caravan of Humvees, armored busses, RV’s, and refrigerated trucks pulled up, and the first of the guards in their red camo uniforms hopped out, they got their first look at the fields and all the corn and cattle. It must have been shocking for them to have seen that. It takes a lot of water and power to keep things alive and protected in this world.
Though I hate them, I invite them in and offer to sell them supplies. I answer all their questions. When they ask how I am able to have electricity and water this far out from the walled cities when the grid is down, I show them. The looks on their faces are priceless when they see the zombies hitched up to the treadmills and cranks that power the generators and pumps. It took me almost a year to capture that many and another six months to find and cannibalize enough gas powered generators to build ones that worked by cranking instead. I now had enough electricity to power a small town. Or a single ranch with several layers of high voltage electric fences and gates.
Which I now powered on. After all, it isn’t safe to leave the defenses down too long. The scientists working in the hidden underground lab to find a cure, or at least a vaccine need to be protected at all costs as did my families and friends.
I also quietly powered on the fences surrounding the areas I let those bastards park everything but the Humvees with the fifty calibers in after I made them secure their weapons in the armory. I loved the looks of confusion as the gates rolled closed and the warning lights and buzzers came on. I loved more the looks of horror as the hidden doors to the first of the underground tunnels leading to the zombie pens opened just inside one of those now active fences...
I couldn’t afford for them to leave you see. They might find the lab. Or escape justice. And besides, my pet zombies need to feed. | It was more luck than anything else. When the zombie apocalypse hit, locked alone in an apartment with the complete boxed set of "The Dog Whisperer with Caesar Milan", things get *super* boring sooner than you'd imagine. Sure the power went out pretty quickly, the grid collapsed, but my ex-boyfriend was a prepper and had given me a gasoline generator for our anniversary. The box set of Caesar Milan DVDs -- these were a Christmas gift from my mother. I'm making a few assumptions, but I'm pretty sure that my mom thought that if I got a dog, I would want to have a baby. So using her Mom logic, she bought me the complete collection of a dog-training TV show. At least she didn't buy me an actual dog. She's not THAT crazy.
Anyway, after a couple of weeks without the internet, without Facebook or instagram, and after watching the only other DVDs I owned (The Office and Friends), I started The Dog Whisperer. My ex-boyfriend (from hereon known as "the cheating a-hole") had given me MREs and canned food for every birthday and Christmas we had been together. No matter how many times I told him I wanted a necklace, a neglige or even a freaking giftcard, he bought me prepper crap. We were together for a longer period of time than we should have been. I honestly have no idea why I put up with him. I mean, I do, I guess--he had his moments. He was cute and strong and self-reliant, but he (the cheating a-hole) also was also a jerk. He made fun of me in front of his friends. He said that I was too fat to wear a bikini. When the a-hole cheated on me with my bestfriend (Kayla--who from hereon shall be referred to as "that B\*\*\*\*") it was over. Even though he said the break up was mutual, it wasn't. I kicked his sorry butt out. It's really unfortunate that I happened to kick him out of our apartment right as a zombie apocalypse was was ramping up. He took his guns, but I kept the apartment.
So what do you do during a zombie apocalypse other than eat freeze-dried Mac-n-Cheeze? You read manuals on how to use the urine distilling unit in the boxed up in the storage closet. You watch "The Dog Whisperer with Caesar Milan" for a second time. You make a clicker out of an aluminum beer can.
Zombies would amble around outside my apartment occasionally. We lived in a daylight basement, but the windows were reinforced with shatterproof glass and steel bars. I told 'the a-hole' that this was a complete waste of money when he had the bullet proof windows installed in a place we were renting, but he just ignored me and said, "I've got to protect my woman." He really was the worst. I observed the zombies stumbling in the back yard. I looked at zombies the way Caesar would look at a misbehaving dog.
\*\*(will continue below)\*\* | 2020-09-14T20:20:49 | 2020-09-14T20:14:11 | 42 | 19 |
[WP] A man releases an evil genie, bent on corrupting his wishes. However, the man's wishes are so boring and mundane, the evil genie struggles to twist them. | John had run through this scenario in his head so many times. Uncorruptable wishes, that was the key, make everything specific, ironed out. But damn, his genie was kinda pushy.
"Mortal, state your wish, this world of yours disgusts me and I wish to return to my native plane of existence."
John looked at him, getting irritated. Why does an immortal being with infinite life care about spending a few extra minutes here? Isn't this his job?
"I wish you knew what it was like to work a retail job."
"You... you what? You can't be serious."
The genie was forced to obey, his mind was suddenly filled with implanted memories of horrible customers, poor treatment by management, inability to negotiate reasonable hours or pay.
"You worthless creature, I hope your finite life is filled with pain and misery, state your second wish, let this be over with."
John was really getting sick of the Genie's shit. Was it worth wasting his wishes on making the genie's life worse?
"I wish my genie wasn't such a dick."
"You arrogant litt-" the genie grumbled. He couldn't twist this, could he? What did it mean to be "Such a dick?" He couldn't be less of a penis could he? But the alternate interpretation is to take it as the colloquial slang and be forced to be nice to this scum of a human. The easiest of the routes to take.
He seethed internally while giving a flatly fake and blissless reply.
"Your wish is my command. What else can I do for you?" the genie spoke through gritted teeth.
"Wish your mouth tastes like butthole." the genie's eyes bugged out of his head with anger as a foul taste filled his mouth, he could feel himself being pulled back into the lamp as the final wish sealed the pact.
"If I'm every freed of this prison you'll paayyyyyyy!!!" the genie howled as he was sucked inside the lamp and and disappeared.
John pushed up his glasses, stroked his neck beard and went to write about his experience on reddit. | “I am the Grand Genie Beryl, most feared and envied of all my kind. I’ve brought ruin to civilizations and untold horrors the likes of which you can’t imagine. Tell me, master, how may I exact your vengeance? You have three wishes.”
“Actually, I wish for a vanilla milkshake,” Hector replied to the genie.
“Seriously?” the genie groaned, then wiggles her fingers. In an instant the milkshake appeared on the table before him. “You know, I could take over this pathetic excuse of a country for you, if you wanted. You have but to ask.”
“Nope, I’m good with this,” Hector said while reaching for the milkshake. Tilting the large glass up to his mouth, he missed the quick twinkle in the genie’s eye. He took a big swig then coughed, choking on the liquid.
Beryl let out a wicked laugh. Watching her master sputter to expel the foul liquid, she cackled away at his displeasure.
Regaining his composure, Hector slammed the glass back onto the table. “How could you ... this is made from sour milk!” | 2018-01-10T05:54:41 | 2018-01-10T01:43:45 | 66 | 22 |
[WP] You are sentenced to a famous prison. You are not sentenced by time your stay only ends if you die or escape. There are no guards and the prison is broadcast on television. No one has ever escaped. | *In other news, notorious criminal Jace Benni is still on the run from authorities since her escape from PCTV a few days ago. The police have renewed their appeal for information regarding her current whereabouts, and stressed that any who recognise her should keep away. She is considered armed and extremely dangerous.*
"Extremely" dangerous? I don't think I quite agree with that. I'm almost tempted to call in, since I can get away with it. It is funny to see the police still insist on following me like this. It's gone far beyond looking out for the security of the public now. They dropped the ball, and they're scrambling to salvage their reputation.
So...am I dangerous? It depends on who you ask, on what your perspective is.
I killed someone. Some other bitch got in my face one night and it ended in a scuffle. She thought that short, skinny me would be a pushover. She pinned me to the floor and tried to choke the life out of me. What would you have done? I grabbed the first thing I could and cracked it over her head. Self defence see?
It didn't play out like that in court. Her pals insisted I struck first. The bar staff did the same. And it's true. I remembered her from a previous argument we had, and I hadn't finished when she ran off like a coward. But this is the real world, and the truth can be whatever you want it to be.
TV. It's a strange thing isn't it? With the right words in the right places you can convince people of anything. And these days people out there really, actually believe the world is flat, the conspiracies hiding behind politics, and that a guilty person is innocent.
I knew I was on TV, and I just stuck to the narrative. Pretty soon people were believing that poor, sweet, scared little me couldn't even hurt a fly. I didn't even need to try. When I heard the commotion outside I stepped out to see a demonstration, and I used it to escape.
Everyone saw it, but people who believe one thing stop everyone else from believing otherwise. Eyewitness comments on social media were contested, they trolled and convoluted them to a big mess. TV footage was fake, that wasn't really me getting into a taxi in the next town over. This is just the police trying to save face!
I finished eating my meal. It's good. The homeowner I ran into has been quite accommodating. He gave me a bed for the night, fresh clothes, a little spending money and fed me. Once I'm done here I need to travel north.
He won't say anything. No-one will. All he wanted was an autograph from sweet, innocent Jace. | The gavel is struck and the decision is made. From now on my every moment will be displayed on to millions of people around the world. My freedom and privacy a thing of the past. As the thoughts of what possible roads lie ahead of me take hold of all my focus, the guards tug me to the side and go through the procedure required to begin transportation.
My sentence in the Living Prison is explained to me one last time as they strap me into the seat of my transporter. I will serve every day of my life unless I can escape. To insure the security of the prison the automated transporter has no windows or any way for passenger to see where they are until they reach their destination. The door is shutt and the mechanical lock moves into place. I felt the acceleration press me into the seat further than the straps held me before.
When the doors opened and my binds to the seat undone I exited the transporter to my new world. Leaving this place is said to be impossible and now that I was here I should find out why that is. The buildings are layed out in a grid each looking identical to the one next to it. I made my way to the nearest one and walked through the door. As I wandered the hallways I heared a familiar voice. I followed the voice for a few turns through the buildings narrow corridors trying to recognize who it could be. As I approached the source of the sound I got to a dark room where I could see the silhouette of a kid. I was baffled to think of the reason a child would be sentenced to such a place. I went closer to get a better look and as I entered the room the voice stopped. The kid stood up and looked me in the eyes. I looked back at it in terror. How could that be. It was me. That kid was me at a younger age. I could never escape this prison, for I was trapped in my own mind | 2017-08-15T03:24:42 | 2017-08-15T01:53:26 | 76 | 35 |
[WP] A love story between a woman who takes everything literally and a man who speaks exclusively in metaphors. | "I'm so hungry I could eat a horse!" Jack said as he rose to get the menus.
Lara's heart fluttered. She was already so nervous about this blind date (and was embarrassed about wearing a bandana when Jack had politely assured her she didn't have to) but she had chosen a Mexican restaurant.
Jack returned with the menus.
"Um, I don't think they serve horse here. We could go somewhere else? If you want to ..."
Jack smiled. He really liked this woman so far.
"I'm fine with right here. My joke didn't go down too well, ha." He scanned the menu.
Lara frowned. "Jokes can't go up, can they." She picked up her menu and wondered where you'd even get horse in this city. How would they serve it? In a burger? A horse burger?
She looked up and noticed Jack smiling at her.
"What?"
"I'm just digesting what you said."
"Well, that's a good thing since you're hungry."
Jack started laughing. She blushed.
"So why did you agree to this blind date?" Lara queried.
"I've never done this sort of thing ... and I felt like I should just throw myself out there."
"Throw yourself, whoa, I caught the bus here."
Jack started laughing again. Lara sipped the water on the table. She decided she loved his laugh.
Jack wiped his eyes.
"Well, my brother should get out and do it too, since his break up. Maybe I'm trying to inspire him ... he's a chicken though."
Lara's eyes widened. 'Hey, a lot of families are very different from your own', she reminded herself. Can you adopt a chicken? Can you *marry* a chicken? She smiled politely and didn't broach the subject.
Jack asked her what she wanted.
"Ummm, I'm going to get nachos. Do you want to share?"
"I'll have a few yeah, but I heard their chicken tacos taste like heaven."
Lara drew back. Given his brother is a chicken wouldn't that be like cannibalism? Something *like* cannibalism, surely.
| "I love you more than all the stars in the sky!"
"But it's not a big deal to love a star, since it's just a ball of gas burning millions of miles away."
"Well, I love you so much that I'll give you the moon!
I'll lasso it with a rope and pull it down to you!"
"Really! Right now?"
"Yes right now!"
"Wait- What are you doing honey?"
"Can't you see? I've roped the moon and I'm pulling it down to you!"
"I thought you were having a seizure or dancing... Hey! Why can't I see the rope?
"Well, there is no rope, you see... It's a metaphor..."
"A meta for what? Oh I get it!"
"Good! You had me worried for a second there!"
"Yeah, now I understand.
You're using a meta to pull the moon to me!"
"A meta?"
"Oh James, you're absolute wonderful!
I mean, I have the most amazing man in the world!
I'd do anything for you!"
"Yes, yes! I'm definitely pulling the moon to you with a meta!"
"How long will it take!? Can I help!?"
"Well, I won't be able to finish pulling it down in just one night. You see, it's a billion miles away..." | 2015-07-11T11:50:32 | 2015-07-11T10:36:30 | 685 | 89 |
[WP] at the end of 2016, you hear "thank you for playing the 'Earth' open beta. You will be returning to your respective galaxies shortly." | "No! No no no no no!"
But it was useless. I blinked my eyes and then I saw myself in a white room with a helmet on my head and atrophied muscles. I had no memory of any of this.
What I do remember though?
I remembered my parents. So caring and loving. Throughout the years of bullying and exclusion at school I knew I could always find love in their hearts for me.
I remembered going to a new school where I changed my mindset. I became popular. I actually had friends - good friends. I even managed to get myself an amazing girl for prom!
I remembered moving out to university. Crying on the day before, already missing my friends in advance. But still keeping in touch as I met new people of all kinds in the big city.
I remember completing my studies, a respectable double major in physics and computer science. Coupled with a slew of other credentials like internships I got, I found myself working at Google, more successful than I could have ever expected for myself.
I remembered him. The time, the laughs, the moments we shared. All of it culminating to the box with the ring in it.
And then, as the words left my mouth, I found myself here...
Why? I had gone through so much, and got so far. But in the end it didn't even matter.
I sat there while my eyes stained the chair I sat on as my head was held in my heads.
"Hello," the voice said, "welcome back to the land of the living. Did you enjoy your simulation?"
"No."
"Interesting. Why not?"
"Give it back."
"We cannot exactly do that. It wasn't actually anything real."
"It was real to me." | Oh that's cool. I suppose now life will be more interesting, now that it is more than just reddit browsing, hand acrobatics, pizza, and soda.
###Region now blocked
What? Hey wait a minute... dafuq is going on here? 'Purchased content is non-refundable and we are sorry for any inconveniences' - Universal Arts Games
So does that mean...
###failure to transport to respective galaxy
An opaque window popped up asking if I would like to pay $1,000,000 for the Transfer DLC. Reading the fine print below, it said 'Proper tender includes raw materials and physical assets. All users without the DLC will be considered as anomalies and will be wiped during the system reset in
00:00:13
00:00:12
00:00:11
00:00:10
...
Well... shit.
| 2016-11-04T22:45:36 | 2016-11-04T22:06:37 | 295 | 129 |
[WP] On your deathbed, the Grim Reaper himself comes to pay you a visit. You expect him to collect your soul, until he asks where and how you have hidden it. | I should have seen it coming. It was because of the vaccines my parents subjected me to when I was a child. Or maybe it was the fluoride in the drinking water that did me in. I was lucky I did not turn gay like those frogs I suppose, but dying at the age of 38 was a tragedy nevertheless.
When the grim reaper appeared, I was disappointed by his measly appearance. The robes were tattered, the scythe did not look well maintained, and he walked. . . I don't know, we walked like one of those store clerks you shout at. I tried to stay civil and keep my disapproving gaze to a minimum. Death approached, and I steeled myself best I could.
In a surprisingly normal voice the reaper asked me: "Where did you hide it?" Then I opened my eyes a bit and gave him my first good look. Yeah he looked a bit thin, but he wasn't a skeleton. In fact I was pretty sure I saw him working at Macy's shoe department some time last week. The name badge on his chest identified him as Tim.
I was surprised, but it seemed he was more surprised than me. He seemed at a loss. Looking under the bed, behind the curtains. When he reached for the nightstand drawers I couldn't help myself.
\- Excuse me! Those are private! How dare you mess around in a customer's private property!
\- B - But your soul.
\- No, buts young man! You can't open my drawer! Those are private!
\- Ok, ma'am. Where did you hide your soul? I have a busy schedule today and would like to conclude the reaping as soon as possible.
\- What do you mean where is my soul? Shouldn't you know it? In fact, isn't that your job description!?! Can't a woman die in peace in this country no more!?
\- I am sure it is a simple misunderstanding ma'am. I am sure I can sort it out right quick. If you onl-
\- If I only what?!? You know what \*Tim\*. I don't think you know what you are doing? How long have you worked in this position?!?
\- I started today ma'am.
\- TODAY?!?! And you already lost my soul!!! This is terrible, you know how busy I am. I have an appointment at the pearly gates and won't be able to attend because YOU lost my soul Tim! I DEMAND MY SOUL TO BE GLEANED BY SOMEONE COMPETENT TIM!
\- But, ma'-
\- Don't you ma'am me one more time young man! I DEMAND TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER! RIGHT NOW!
At that point Tim's eyes were watering up with tears. I felt in control. Who was this pesky looser to glean \*my\* soul.
The commotion seemed to draw the attention of management and finally a proper grim reaper emerged from the shadows. He put his hands on the apprentice grim reaper's shoulder and said: "Tim, son. I am sorry. You shouldn't have been assigned a Karen on your first day. Karens have no souls and they become the wailing banshees after death. We don't glean them son."
I was still yelling as they turned away and disappeared into the shadows. | I can hear Mommy crying. Please stop crying. But Mommy doesn't hear me. No one ever hears me, but I hear everyone. Daddy tells Mommy to take big brother outside. Now all I hear is the music of bells. The bell always ring in a sleepy rhythm.
Ding... Ding... Ding... never ending, but I like it. Whenever Mommy and Daddy leave for a little while I still get to hear the bells so I am never alone.
Ding... Ding... Ding... Doooooonnng-
The bells stopped. They never stop. My eyes felt light and I finally could open them.
"Mommy! Daddy!" I sat up to see my Daddy crying but I could not hear him.
"Daddy, look up. I'm here." The room was silent.
"Hello sweetheart, your time has come."
It was someone wearing a black coat who sounded a bit like grandpa. He had come through the closet. I stay in my bed, holding Daddy's hand.
"Now, now its okay. Going young is not a pity, just a shorter adventure for your soul-" The black coat man inhaled loudly before exhaling in disbelief.
"Where is your soul?" I held Daddy's hand tighter.
"My soul?" I asked, scared of him.
"Yes, your soul. Where have you hidden it! You need to tell me before-" His voice cuts off and I feel heavy. The room disappears into darkness and from darkness to gone.
XxX
A young boy lays in a Hospital bed. His parents worried as they watch him sleep. The black coat man enters the room.
"Hello." A young girl at the foot of the Boy's bed greets him.
"Hello again." The black coat man greets back. "So this is where you have been hiding?" The young girl nods.
"Well today I am here for him. I'll have to come back for you another time."
"No." The young girl said sternly.
"No?" He questioned.
"I've watched over my family all this time. I have seen so many happy events and memories of those I love. This is my brother's son and you will take me instead."
---
The young boy wakes up, seeing his mother and father.
"Dad, Mom?" His voiced rasped. His parents' worried face turn to relief as they quickly wrapped thier arms around him.
"Thank God." His mother cried. His father gave a chuckle;
"You must have one great Guardian Angel, son."
((Written on mobile)) | 2020-04-23T03:47:35 | 2020-04-23T03:38:39 | 48 | 25 |
[WP] You hear people's personalities as melodies and songs. You never expected to ever hear such a heavy and intense bassline. Especially at a preschool. | These days Connor is a cartoon theme song, something from the 80s, maybe, all synth and chanted lines about "fighting" and "big adventures". Sometimes I start humming along and I catch Connor's eye in the rearview mirror. He acts like I'm just being weird - *silly Daddy* - but I suspect there's a part of him that recognizes the tune, even if he can't actually hear it. It's his song, after all. A unique melody that pours out of him morning, noon, and night. It's changed over the years. When he was a baby, it was bells - seven notes, up, then down, then up, up, up, down, down. Not a happy song. An inquisitive one. An exploratory jingle. I loved that song. It didn't last all that long.
Wendy's song is a folk song. Slow strums, soft voices. Slightly mournful, but really just a story - a story without any words. "Matter of fact" might be a better way to put it. The song of someone who maybe needed more time to find her *real* song, but likes the placeholder well enough. Sometimes Wendy's song makes me sad. Regretful. But... it's not meant to be sad. It's not meant to be *heard*, in all honesty. That's why I can't take it too hard.
The songs are everywhere, in and on and around everyone. I don't necessarily know what they all *mean*, but there's a feeling in each. Something obvious. Instinctual. The kid who bagged my groceries yesterday had a punk song. Simple, driving, angry, and yet hopeful. Hearing his song, I didn't *know* him. The songs don't tell me everything about a person. There's a nuance there that's missing. It's more like an abstraction. A collage of thoughts and feelings. The bagger wanted to break out, and he wanted to blame someone, and he wanted to wallow - just a little - in those negative feelings. But none of that really defines him, and none of that really tells me who he is or who he strives to be. That's why I try not to dwell too hard on the songs. I try not to read into things.
But yesterday, I heard a new song.
I had walked Connor into school. I had a form to drop off at the front desk. I was waiting for old Mrs. Feinman, the school secretary (swing music, frenetic, alive and loose), when I heard a single bassline.
Distortion. Deep fuzz. Doom metal. I could feel it in my fingertips.
That's when I noticed her. A little girl, olive skin, downcast eyes, sitting on the bench across from the desk.
She had hardly any melody at all. Just those pounding, thudding, vibrating notes. Each hit like a fist. There was no sense to it.
It wasn't music. It was pure discord.
Feinman caught my glances. I had almost forgotten she was there - her swing was buried under the treble.
"That's Lena," said Feinman. "It's her first day. She's in Connor's class, I believe."
Lena looked up. Her eyes were soft. She smiled at me. "Pleased to meet you." Her voice was quiet, but calm. Proud.
I smiled back. For a moment, the roaring, consuming bassline quieted down. There were strings under there. Something classical. An overture for a spring morning.
Then Lena's eyes went back down and she returned to her thoughts, and the bass rumbled and thundered.
"She's a refugee," whispered Mrs. Feinman. "Syrian. I can't imagine what she's been through."
The notes fell. Hammer strikes. My head swam with the violence of them.
"Neither can I," I said, feeling cold and sick and alone. I flinched as another pulse cracked like the sky was splitting apart. "Neither can I." | I peeped into the class. At once the chatter died as they spotted me. I followed the music that had now silenced to a whisper. There he was. Their teacher walked in.
"Oh, you're here."
"They were just making noise I had to. Anyway, let me leave you to take over."
I excused myself as Miss Treilo started her lesson, but I couldn't get it out of my head. In a class where most had hello kitty jingles and some had baby rattles there was a baseline that could have earned respect at a mosh pit.
I decided to wait until I was the one on duty. I had seen him more than once playing with the others, although I had never seen him display any abilities. Finally my day came. I stalked the halls waiting, there was no way such an young bunch could keep quiet.
I heard them and didn't hesitate. I went in, pointed fingers, "you, you, and you get out," and left with the culprits.
The others gave looks of shock, and some bid them farewell. My reputation for discipline was well known.
When they were out I got a good look at them.
"What are your names?" I asked.
"Shamlow, Grise."
"Ret Borang'."
"Aronavo Iks."
I looked at Iks proper. The bassline had lowered to a barely audible hum as most people's did in the presence of authority. his eyes were a golden hue I had never seen on anyone. I had to ask.
"And what kind of anchorite are you Iks?"
"I don't know." He hung his face down dejected.
I looked at the other two. The red eyes of fire and brown eyes of earth shone from them. "Why were you making noise?"
They looked down shame-faced.
"And why were you standing on your chair?" I asked Aronavo. "The two of you go back."
"I was trying to catch something," he said.
"mmhmm" I added.
I lifted him by his chin so he could take a look at my own unique orange eyes.
"Don't feel sad about your abilities alright? You never know what you'll awaken. Now behave or next time there will be consequences."
With that I shooed him off back to his class. The bassline ripped as he scuttled back. I knew that the chatter would start barely five minutes after I was gone.
As I went to the staffroom I met Treilo. I had to ask.
"Treilo, you have a student Aronavo Iks."
"Yes I know the sound seer."
"A what?"
"He can see sound."
"How does he behave?"
"He's got music in his blood. I think that says it all. He doesn't seem to have much ability apart from that for now."
"Hmm. Interesting," I added. I leaned back on my chair and silently counted the years I'd have to wait before I'd get to teach a student of sound.
***
/r/pagefighter
| 2017-02-15T07:27:42 | 2017-02-15T07:26:03 | 244 | 24 |
[WP]A nuclear war started on Earth. Your crew and you, from the ISS,watch as the earth is destroyed. You only have supplies for 3 more months. | "ISS to Ground Control, Are you reading me... over"
Maggie was close to tears. She had been at the ham radio for hours now. She could hear Dimitri on the main comms, desperately searching for anyone down there, alternating between English and Russian. Nobody ever answered. But it was important. Keeping communications open was the one damn thing keeping the crew together.
Occasionally, one of us would stare out the window at the smouldering planet turning beneath us. Everywhere that could be nuked, had been nuked. Some places, more than once. Moscow and Washington had been leveled several times over. The three gorges dam was vaporised. Nuclear launch sites were either destroyed or completely spent. Where lights once lit cities across the globe, now all that remains is the faint glow of fires that no one will put out.
I don't know why the missiles stopped flying. Maybe they ran out, maybe someone surrendered. Maybe there is no-one left to surrender or to claim victory. We don't know.
The hardest part is looking my crew mates in the eye. None of us wanted this. We've all lost family, friends. The lines between nations aren't supposed to matter when were up here. But they do. We all try to be nice to Pierre, but it can't be easy knowing it was your country that ended to world. He hasn't said a word since the whole thing started. I don't even think he's eaten.
We still have plenty of provisions, enough for 3 months, and we can take the Soyuz capsule back should we need it. But what world would be waiting for us ? Could we even bear to return to an empty planet?
We're staying up here as long as possible. Ordinarily, we'd worry about the radiation exposure from being up here for so long, but it's not like we'll be free of radiation on the ground. We're using this time to find as many groups of survivors as possible, to get an idea of who's left on the planet.
Suddenly, I hear a sound from Maggie. She turned the volume up on her radio so that everyone else could listen. Someone was alive. Dimitri started to cry as we heard the music crackle through the speakers.
"*We're no strangers to love, You know the rules and so do I, A full commitment's what I'm thinking of, You wouldn't get this from any other guy,I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling, Gotta make you understand*....." | "Holy mother of..."
We all stared out the cupola at the end of the Earth. Literally. For whatever reason, she started to crack apart at the seams, and slowly, majestically even, started to just fall apart... and sink into itself.
They'd been conducting a new experiment at CERN with the LHC, and although they had sworn over and over that the miniature black hole that would be created would pose no danger, evaporating due to Hawking radiation...
...well, 'they' were apparently wrong.
The Earth slowly, ever so slowly, crumbled and cracked and shrunk. One could see the area of the border of Switzerland and France being the center point of the entire swallowing of the Earth.
We didn't hear anything. We just partook of the scene. We were all sobbing. We three were the only ones left. And after us...
I then had a sudden flash of clarity. 3 months. Yeah. I think not.
I snuck away from the observation post, and went to the Soyuz. I got the shotgun out of it, loaded it. I went back to where the other two were and point blank shot one, then the other, of my comrades.
I closed the cupola off, left them there. I didn't need that room anymore.
Now... it's just me.
9 months. That's better.
What to do... what to do...
---
Edit: it's 'nuclear' in that it's the LHC playing with physics, and 'war'... well, because, ok? | 2015-10-17T10:21:20 | 2015-10-17T10:06:16 | 100 | 38 |
[wp] Myths tell us where things come from (ex. echoes are from Echo, a person cursed to repeat what others said). Write a mythological origin story for a common modern object. | Deep within the bowels of the earth, there lies a secretive and fiendish entity. This is a being of decay and destruction: taking the bodies of plants and animals alike and crushing them in its hot, heavy hands until there is nothing left but a poisonous black liquid. This entity loathes all things on the surface: sunlight, the wind, the atmosphere we breathe and seeks to turn the world above into a place as dark and devilish as the world below.
"How does it do this?" You might ask, "how can an entity lying beneath the earth exert such influence on the world above?" The answer is that it's methods are as cunning and malicious as itself - It preys on the fears and desires of men. Creeping it's black product up through the ground, it promises those unsuspecting discoverers of this poison infinite wealth and power - a chance to turn the fortunes of even the most destitute and despairing. Yet this cursed liquid comes at a heavy price, those that consume it become addicted by its power. Always needing more, this curse creates an unquenchable thirst. So overwhelming is this thirst that those that discover it will literally destroy the world around them just to find more, and more, and more..
And while this entity sits back and allows the slaves of its poison to destroy their world, it knows that it edges closer and closer towards ultimate goal.. Millions of years of waiting for the demon - known only to us as "Oil" - is almost over.
EDIT: "unquenchable thirst" - autocorrect isn't perfect | In the before time, The Jobs did sit beneath a tree pondering the stars. Beneath the tree he did sit for many days, and then weeks- when Summer came and Apple did fall from the tree and sat of the ground besides The Jobs.
In that moment, The Jobs did stop looking towards the stars and began to ponder the Apple, it was then The Jobs did realize the nature of the "i".
That which was music was podded, that which was corded was phoned- to all these things The Jobs did bestow his children to carry in their pockets.
His work complete, The Jobs did again look to the sky and faded into the stars. | 2016-01-16T09:05:19 | 2016-01-16T06:29:13 | 103 | 20 |
[WP] A scientist has discovered the vaccine of immortality. The only side effect is, though, infertility. After the whole world got vaccinated, it turns out immortality is a hoax it is just an infertility vaccine.
got lots of comments about not knowing how vaccines work. i basically imagined a syringe with the cure of aging. i thought it depicted what i meant to say. english is not my first language, so my apologies for any misuse of words. | Neal dangled precariously from the edge of a ruined mountain of rubble and debris. For a moment, he wondered whether it would even matter if he were to slip and fall to his death now.
When the truth was revealed, the world had descended into hysteria.
People who had blissfully believed themselves to be immortal, to have finally transcended the fleeting existence that is *humanity*, fell into shock and denial. For a time, people were in a state of disillusion, that what the governments had revealed was false information. They clung to their immortality like a wet rag, hoping and praying that it wasn't true.
But then their youth began to peel away, and eventually, someone even died from old age. The first casualty of mankind in thirty years since the inception of the Immortality Vaccine. It was then that the world fell apart. A deluge of frustration and outrage ensued. Humanity had been cheated of their immortality, and to add salt to their injuries, they also realized that humanity would perish within the span of a century.
Why?
Because every women alive was barren, infertile, no longer capable of reproducing new life. The fundamental feature in all life... reproduction, had been rendered impotent by the Immortality Vaccine.
Suddenly nothing mattered anymore. Wealth, status, fame, dreams, everything reduced to nothing.
Why?
Because there was no future. Humanity would be no more and if there was no humanity then why would material wealth matter anymore when one had no children to pass it on to? Their legacy, their life's work, everything that they had accomplished in life meant nothing when there was no 'next generation' to inherit thier story and pass it on to the next, and the next, and ad infinitum. People were consumed by turmoil and despair, falling into a languishing stupor, wondering what to do with their final days. The progeny of their families would end with them and then there would be nothing. Just dust and ashes, the remains of a civilization that ended prematurely.
Then there were those who turned to violence and tyranny when all was lost. Pillaging, raping and murdering indiscriminately out of sheer joy and pleasure. Since there nothing to live for, they would content themselves with man's simple-minded pleasures.
Then the rumors cropped up. That there was still a way to save humanity from extinction. That there still existed a batch of Unsullied humans. Those that were still fertile, untainted by the Vaccine. People banded together in search of these Unsullied humans. They eventually called themselves the Preservers because they believed that it was their duty to preserve Mankind, preventing their extinction.
Neal watched from his perch, as a group of Preservers hauled a new batch of Unsullied humans, youthful-looking women who were bound in chains and rope, onto the center of the intersecting street that was littered with debris and rubble.
"Please!"
"No!"
"I'm Sullied, I swear! Please believe me!"
The women screamed to no avail, as one of the Preservers began to manhandle them from behind.
Neal watched with an expression of indifference, but in his heart he had already settled on a appropriate course of action. As there were those wished to preserve Humanity, there were also those who found solace in knowing that Humanity was coming to an end.
Neal was one of them, and he would stop at nothing to make sure that mankind does not procreate and continue their progeny.
Slowly, Neal drew a high-caliber rifle from his back. He flicked off the safety, and chambered in a bullet with a satisfying *click,* then aimed.
-----
-----
/r/em_pathy
| For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. We've all known that every time a human dies, one is born almost instantaneously elsewhere around the world. At least, that's what all the stories told us. The graphs of human count have been a constant eight billion, six hundred fifty three million, five hundred thousand and twelve for the past hundred and fifty years.
We thought we had it figured out that life and death were part of the same equation.
How wrong we were.
Around fifty years ago, a scientist going by the name of Dr. Antoine Nova was convinced he discovered the cure to immortality. By then we had known that no gods truly existed. Why would the number of people alive on this planet stay the same if there was some sort of paradise later on? There are less than a hundred thousand of us left. Not that it matters.
The doctor was killed.
He said he had more to tell us.
I was a child in this lifetime when it happened, but I remember it like it was yesterday. He was brought up to the stadium, set in front of the televisions all around the world, his mousy mustache quivering. He tried explaining himself, he tried telling everyone that there was more than immortality, that they had to behave themselves. He was shot in the head multiple times for crimes against humanity. And to prove that the serum was a fake.
Unsurprisingly, he died. Everyone blames him for killing us off. Scientists have not been able to find the cure for his works. Then chaos ensued. In the time before the serum was injected, everyone lived life to leave it for their children and themselves. It had to be better than it was before so they could be more relaxed in the next life. This was the end though. Some people pillaged and burned. Others overdosed. Some prayed to gods they don't believe in. Others simply raised their kids to be as behaved and loving as possible. I was lucky enough to have such parents.
I hear gunshots.
We were never scared of death. I'm still not scared of it. It's better than killing ourselves out in a war. Infertility. What a curse it turned out to be.
Mother nature seems to be enjoying life without us.
It's much nicer now. Less grey.
The only thing I re-
There's blood coming out of my side. I felt the bullet. I see him, coming closer. It's getting darker. Goodbye, world.
\- - -
​
I opened my eyes. An entity is looking down at me. It's bright. My side doesn't hurt. It welcomes me to Paradise. My parents are there with Dr. Nova. I guess he did give us immortality at the end. | 2018-09-09T08:41:37 | 2018-09-09T08:38:40 | 128 | 67 |
[WP]Tell me an emotional story about a man, using only what he would type into Google search | - Online dating sites
- First date ideas
- How much do you tip
- What clothes do you wear to a fancy restaurant
- Ways to save money
- How to get proposal ring in secret
- What is a good price for a ring
- Resort honeymoon suite cost
- How to save a lot of money
- First class tickets to Hawaii
- Coach tickets to Hawaii
- How to budget your vacation
- Romantic ideas for honeymoon
- How to tell if it's a boy or girl early on
- Local available night shifts
- Baby toys
- Does the father go to the baby shower
- Is it okay if a baby is late
- Strong cheap Liquor
- Strong liquor
- Funeral planner
- Putting child up for adoption
- Suicide Hotline
- Can I take back my child that I put up for adoption
- Alcoholics Anonymous
- Online college
- Necessary items for raising a baby
- Baby clothes
- Lunchbox and Backpack
- Available jobs with four year degree
- Elementary school supplies
- Little league sign ups
- High school supplies
- Letterman jacket
- Tuxedo rental for teenager
- Athletic scholarships available in early high school
- Used car for son
- New car for son
- Driving instructors
- Driving safety tips
- Why does God hate me
- Funeral planner
- Most painless way to die
| Why is the sky blue?
How far away is Uranus?
Why do mom and dad fight so much?
How to impress girls
Porn
Good date ideas
Porn
Where can I get the morning after pill?
How do I know when I should propose?
Good proposal ideas?
Cheap engagement rings
How to be a good parent
How to tell your parents they're grandparents
Good girl names
Ways to comfort your wife
How do I tell people we had a miscarriage?
Good boy names
Death of spouse support groups
Painless ways to kill yourself | 2015-02-04T17:35:01 | 2015-02-04T16:12:00 | 161 | 23 |
[WP] You never kill the spiders in your home, you just whisper "today you, tomorrow me" when you set them outside. Now, in your most dire moment, an army of spiders arrives to have your back. | "Tell me where it is!"
"I don't know! I don't know!", I cried as I got another kick in the gut, protected by nothing but the rope the chackled me with.
Apparently, the thing they want from me is a valuable jem hidden somewhere in my house. I thought the previous owner was shady, but who'd think he worked for mafia! He probably took it with him when he moved, and sold the house for cheap so a blockhead like me would get beaten for him.
"Boss, I think he's the wrong guy." One of the thugs started to doubt.
"He's the one. The adress is right, and Mike would never lie to me."
Guess, it's my unlucky day.
"But you're right. Burn this place to the ground. We're getting out of here."
It definetly is.
"I told you he sold the house and ran away with the jem!", I cried as my last attempt to survive.
"We know. We were just checking if that were true. But now, you know too much. So... We have no choice." Finished toying with me, he exited the room; his minions started to spill gasoline; and I lost it.
"Is this the end?" I murmured to myself. "Will I die like this? Because of a misunderstanding!? Toasted in my new house!?"
I heard a quick "chick", and saw a burning match falling on the floor. The room lighted bright red, and the two black silhouettes locked the door from the other side. Now I'm doomed.
Surprisingly for me, the two silhouettes weren't the last black I saw in my life. From every angle, I could see black goo stretching across the room. It seemed intelligent as it opened the door, the window, and the knocked down furniture in such a way that it blocked the fire from soreding on me. Then, I felt lots of tiny bumps under me, and the room started moving. No, it's me! I'm moving! That's where I understood what the black goo is.
You see, from the small age, I learned not to harm a living thing. Every life is sacred, and even the smallest bug has a soul. So my whole life I was letting them outside, carefully taking them in my hands and putting them on the nearest bush. Later, mom told me to whisper "Today you, tomorrow me", and one day they will come to save me. But not that literally!!!
The bugs lifted me up from the ground and carried to the window. Then, using their super-strength, they tossed my huge body a meter to the air right through the window into the hands of a swarm of flies and mosquitos I've let feast on me and my food; before I could realise it, the flying mosquito matress put me safely on the ground and bit my ropes off.
Now I was witnessing the hellish furnace that was just my room, and my savior coming out of it in the face of black goo spilling down every crack on the street.
One day later, I was back at my old place, happy that I didn't tale everything with me to be burned with the new house. I turn on the TV and see my face on the screen. "One man turned down the largest crime organisation in the city". For this act, I received compensation for the damage, and then some for the organisation. With so much money, I couldn't think of anything better to fo than to donate them to the animal saving groupes. Especially insect ones. They deserve a thanks.
_______________________________
Sorry for any mistakes, was writing it on a bumpy ride. | Fear struck my heart as I watched the great book descend towards me, falling with falling with both speed and force. I tried as hard as I could to dash out of the way, but I had noticed it too late. I prepared myself for the end.
The boot froze, the giant pulling back his foot. He bent to the ground, gently pulling me into the skies. I let out a breath of relief as I saw where was taking me- back to the land of the sun. He let me to the ground gently, but before he returned to his cave, left me with a parting whisper.
"Today you, tomorrow me."
I gave a small prayer of thanks to the giant. He had saved me from them.
***
*Seven Years Later*
"Matt!" My dad yelled from the other room. "Go take the trash out."
I sighed loudly, heading into the garage to look for the bags. I found them piled up in the corner, smelling much worse than I had expected. I heaved the first one onto my shoulder, it filled with metal trash and was rather heavy, opened the garage door, and headed towards the dumpster. With a small grunt, I heaved the large bag into the bin. It landed with a resounding clang.
*That was odd.* I thought. *Wasn't today Thursday? Shouldn't there be more trash?* Normally the bags of uneaten food would pad the ground. I shrugged it off, moving to pick up my family's bags of left over lunches and dinners. The bag was far lighter than expected, so when I picked it up, the motion caused the bag to rip.
A few maggots flew out of the bag, one landing on my foot. I jerked back, giving out a small scream as I scrambled to turn on the lights. My fumbling hands finally founds the switch, and as I went back to inspect the bag, I found that there was *no food* left, only a few maggots.
The maggots were dead, small bite sized marks leaving most of them completely disfigured.
I screamed again in shock, stepping back to look at the garage as a hole.
That's when I noticed it. There was a hole in the garage, the size of a soccer ball, that seemed to have been chewed into by something... I stood frozen with a mixture of fear and awe as I wondered how it could have happened. As I stood watching, a few small rays of light began to appear at the end of the tunnel, making me realize two things.
Whatever created that hole was still there, and going inside the house.
The only room with a light on was Luke's.
My two year old brother.
***
Part two coming here (as in this thread) in literally 15 minutes
[r/ConlehWrites](https://www.reddit.com/r/ConlehWrites/)!
| 2017-08-27T22:41:33 | 2017-08-27T22:11:20 | 56 | 33 |
[WP] With the advent of memory-sharing technology comes a new profession: Adventurer for Hire. You scour the world for incredible memories and sell them to the highest bidder to experience as their own. | Sweat pours down your brow as you dig another piton into the stony face of the cliff.
Your muscles ache and your stomach growls with protest, but you hook up your rope and keep on climbing. Because you've been imbued with purpose, and that village won't save itself.
It's a Class Two world, with a rural population. They write myths about you. They see you as a god from the skies.
Maybe you are.
The tech limitations keep you from bringing any equipment above level two onto the planet, so you're here saving the locals with what amounts to a sharp metal stick and a round metal shield. Wouldn't stop a plasma bolt, but it does okay against arrows. On this world, that's all you need.
You tap the memory recorder at your earlobe - it's a habitual action now. It's the one piece of advanced equipment you're allowed to keep, and you'd rather die than have it fall out.
When you finally reach the top of the cliff, a cave surrounded by tall purple grass awaits. A little river leads to a waterfall that falls for hundreds of meters, back where you came. The village is a tiny speck from here.
A dragon – an honest-to-god dragon – roars in protest as you approach the mouth of the cave. It’s not really a dragon, of course, but the parallels to early human mythology are uncanny. It’s an elegant beast of green scales and wings, and there’s an unsettling intelligence in its glowing eyes. It spreads its wings and spits a gout of acid at you. With your enhanced musculature and reflexes, you dodge it easily.
You swipe at it with your sword, but it’s hardly going to be that easy – it clanks against the beast’s scaly hide ineffectually.
It swipes at you with its claws, but you roll forward, coming up with the sword – and thrust into its underbelly, where its scales are thinner. The metal penetrates, if only a little, and greenish blood stains your blade. The beast roars in pain, and you feel a pang of regret at having to kill such a beautiful creature.
But not too much. If left unchecked, the beast will continue to prey upon the local villages’ herds and children, and the conservationists of the UEG are very clear – sapients take priority over local fauna.
The beast roars again, spewing a stream of death, but its acid bladder’s almost depleted, and your info from the locals tells you it’ll take hours to refill. You charge forward just as the stream of acid runs dry, and raise your sword –
And you’re in a metal room with a neurostim strapped to your forehead. It’ll be 500 credits to continue.
Do you wish to confirm the payment?
---
I'm thinking of turning this story into a series, following the memories of a human adventurer. If you'd like to see more of this memory and learn more about this world, [click here.](https://www.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/bnnj0q/oc_memories_of_a_human_adventurer_1/)
*Want to stay updated on this story? Subscribe to* /r/OneMillionWords | They had sealed me into an airtight box, unlighted except for one small circular window. Bound to a table, I had been poked and prodded; then, released, I had been sprayed down with steam and coated in a fine powder. They had crammed me into a skintight suit, then wrapped a second layer around that, airtight. My breath came in shallow pants, echoing in the mask I wore, dark except for two tiny circular windows to the world. And then they had strapped a great weight on my shoulders and put me in this box.
For hours I stood, hunched and uncomfortable, in my prison. I grew first dizzy then panicked, and hours later, cold. My teeth chattered violently when I let my jaw relax, matching the shivering that wracked me where I huddled unmoving. The weight on my shoulders seemed miniscule next to the aching in my back and legs from hours immobile. I felt my pulse pounding in my neck and head, battering at me as I wished to batter down the walls of this cell. Close, and closer still, the walls drew together in this darkness. Before the cold had taken me in its merciless claws I had gazed out the tiny window to a beautiful, clear blue sky. Now I merely shivered, miserable and pained.
Quiet voices whispered dimly at the edge of hearing, and abruptly a reddish light flashed and flashed again. I heard the creaking of hinges and what might have been a footfall. This was it; this was the moment I had been waiting for. Time to put on a brave face.
Abruptly the walls which had been slanting in towards me split and fell away. A howling gale hit me and would have thrown me off my feet had I not been anchored by a carabiner to a hook above me. On all sides I gazed out into infinity as the red light turned green and I reached up to unhook myself. Out from the shadow of a great balloon, I stepped off a platform fifty kilometers above the surface of the earth and met a wave of adrenaline that swept me up and carried me into a mad euphoria. | 2019-05-11T11:58:37 | 2019-05-11T11:55:39 | 895 | 10 |
[WP] Once a year you switch bodies with a random person who is best in the world at a certain skill. You can't change back until you discover what this skill is. You've been changed for a month and are starting to get worried. | It had been six months. Janney had tried everything she could think of to test this body's skill. As far as she could tell, it had terrible muscle memory, was not athletic, and was, in fact, completely uncoordinated. She had played every video game, tried crossword puzzles and Sudoku. The body killed plants. Animals hated the body. She had tried driving, shooting, cooking. You name it, she tried it. She had even, in a moment of desperation, cut the body and given it stitches, which had sucked. The stitches were terrible and came apart within minutes. Have you ever tried to give yourself stitches? Poke, faint, cry, poke, faint, cry. Awful.
The body was bad at sex. Janney didn't even know that was a thing, but there it was. The body was bad at math. The body was awkward in nearly every situation. The body was a terrible speaker, and an even worse listener.
It, apparently, had a "job" where it "worked from home", but best Janney could figure, it logged into a mainframe and then surfed the internet for 7 hours. Even *that* the body did badly. "I like to tape my thumbs to my hands" Really, body? *Really?* The body took a one-hour break for lunch, of course, but all it did was grab a dry, turkey sandwich and sit back down at its desk. The body wasn't even any good at looking after itself, often forgetting to bathe or eat or, you know, change its underwear. Honestly, it was the worst.
The body had one thing going for it. It had a lot of friends. Despite no discernible talent in any field, its phone and email were inundated with invitations. "Let's hit the bar!" "Come to my dinner party!" "Come to my wedding! I am sitting you with my mother in law. She will just love how charming you are." That was the funniest one, because the body was not, in any way, shape, or form, charming. When the body tried to charm, it offended or scared, not enamored. The body was entirely inept.
The latest event was a singles mixer. The body had been invited, yet again, though Janney was hard pressed to understand why.
The body spent three hours fumbling for conversation, spilling its drinks, and tripping over its own two feet. People literally backed away from the body, at times, so desperate were they to stop feeling defeated in their attempts to engage. Janney wanted to scream at them, "You did fine! You did better than most! It's not you, it's the body!" That evening was the final straw.
Janney gave up. She had resigned herself to never knowing the body's one great gift. She decided she would enjoy it. She would kick back and watch the show, no more looking for the escape hatch. In a way, the body made her feel better about herself. Next to the body, everyone else was all right...
*Poof*
(Love, Sincerely, The Body) | Well, this is awkward. I'm used to getting into a body, noticing that one thing they are passionate about, and racing back to my own body. These things are kept track of, you know. If people's skills weren't tracked, the world would just be chaos. People would choose their own jobs willy nilly, without thought to what they do the absolute best. This time however, I just can't place my finger on it.
The first day I was in Irene, I thought she was best at singing. Her voice lifted with ease and clarity, and lured people closer as if she were a Siren of old. But, mentally adding that as her skill of note did not transfer me back to my own body.
The second day she danced. Irene never stumbled or missed a step, kept the coreography pictured perfectly in her mind.
I've been here a month now, and each day she displays some other skill I hadn't thought of, some other skill to mark down that will never get me out of her. Puzzles, carving, pottery, speed-reading, even killing video game bosses in record time. Today marks the 31st day of my attempt to figure out Irene's absolute best skill. I am starting to think that I need to just say that she is skilled at everything she tries, but that doesn't sit well with me. I've always had a great insight into what people are good at.
Irene wakes, batting away the covers. She shuffles to the fridge, a bit unkempt. This is out of her norm so far. Every day she has been done up, always presentable to the societal expectation of what a standard man wants. Currently, however, her hair is sticking up all sorts of ways from sleeping. The pixie cut looking more like a manic pixie than a fairy tale. She grabs a drink and a few snacks. Irene makes her way back to the bed, still sluggish. She turns on the TV that is positioned at the end and flips the channel until the one she is looking for comes on.
Game shows and women-oriented drama shows take up the remainder of the day. Is this what she is good at? Relaxing for a day, once a month? I try noting that down, and slowly feel the haze of the transfer start to pull me in.
(AN: First time poster, please be gentle) | 2016-09-26T08:33:17 | 2016-09-26T08:19:04 | 33 | 13 |
[WP] Earth is discovered by a peaceful coalition of civilizations. Turns out we missed several major technologies normally developed by now. The aliens are very confused how we got here. | a'Kna Escu!h III, Galactic Ambassador to the Scunarian Sentients, pursed her *gnyrxs* in frustration. She had heard that this civilization was backwards, but it was only now that she had begun to understand.
She clicked and clacked her *snkths*, whilst her real-time translator interpreted her movements. "But how did you get here if you do not have Paradox Engines and *untranslatable concept*, as well as mastery of nuclear reactions?"
The Ambassador to the Galactic Empire, some bizarre bipedal with monstrous fur sticking out of its head in multiple ways, garbled somehting at her, whilst her translator interpreted. "I'm sorry, a Paradox Engine? I'm not sure I understand. Is that something like our Electromagnetic Motion drive, that seems to violate the Laws of *untranslatable concept*? That is, the law of Convervation of energy. I hope that gets translated properly."
...And *now* she understood how they'd got here. She was just bamboozled by the manner in which this species had both become space-faring and managed to traverse the Hypergrid. After all, they were missing the voidspace technology that allowed them to do so. But, she was advised, they had managed to break the laws of the universe in doing so. She thought, her *gnyrxs* twitching whilst she tried adapting her thinking, her febrile wings spinning in circles.
She spoke again. "Well, you know about the 'space that is no space', right?" The Ambassador nodded. "We traveled here through that in the space of a week on our ship. I'm sure your Science-Men would like to take a look at this."
She listened to the translation, fascinated by the horrible noise coming out of the bipedal's mouth. "Well, yes, of course. I would also like to share with you our technologies regarding inter-galactic travel. I'll arrange for our astronometrics teams to speak with your teams."
She nodded, wings twitching. "And as for that messy thing you call 'birth', how do your females cope without *untranslatable concept* and carrying their progeny? What do you do if there are complications?"
The bipedal Ambassador shrugged. "We have specialist doctors who deal with this. They are experts, and we have managed to get out planetary death-rate down to just 0.1%."
a'Kna was stunned to hear of such a high progenitor death-rate. It literally didn't compute that suxch a society could exist. It defied belief in the Divine Queens that a so-called enlightened society could shrug off losing children.
She *had* to report this back.
EDIT: Me can wurd god - i.e. I've made a basic spelling and grammar check on this. Working on Part 2 after real-life stuff. | "So, you're an alien?" Said the Human
the one with two circles attached to it's eyes. With one peek, Aleri could tell it was a made of a silicon compund.
"Yes, Greetings Earthlings. I am what you'd call an alien. I am not from this planet. I am a Mercurian." Aleri said to the humans.
"You are from Mercury? But how? We thought we are the only life in this solar system" One of the Humans asked.
"No, there is life on all the nine planets. So why didn't you, the prime species of the Earth, The humans respond to the invitation?"
He asked.
"What invitation?" Another Human inquired. This one was wearing a suit
"The one to join the Sun Federation ofcourse, all other eight planets of the solar system have accepted. So what stopped you?" He asked. He remembered the General telling him to be nice to them and mentioning about their hormones.
"We didn't get any Invitation" the same suited Human replied.
Aleri thought that the humans are saying that they didn't receive the invitation because they couldn't decrypt the message and were too embarassed to ask for help. The humans have multiple hormones that affect their emotions, he remembered.
"Take me to your core, I'll decrypt the gravitational message" he said.
"Core? But that's impossible. It's too hot that it melts and burns everything" said one of the Humans.
"Melt and Burn everything? What about Dranium?" He asked
"What is that?" The human replied.
A planet without Dranium?
The most abundant of the solar metals. Every other planet in the Solar System had it.
"Do you atleast have Siliod?"
"No"
"What's the melting point of you most heat resistant element?" He asked in shock.
"Tungsten, 3422°C" the same human in suit replied.
"Only 3422?"
Was this planet really from the sun?
Not even having Siliod or the more common Dranium.
How did these humans get the technology to develop their atmosphere without one of the basic sun metals?. | 2017-03-10T00:53:53 | 2017-03-09T23:19:38 | 240 | 132 |
[WP] Suddenly, you hear alarms go off in the bank as a group of masked men start shouting at everyone to get on the ground. You grip your backpack filled with money tighter and hope they don't learn you already robbed this place blind with no one noticing. | **Listen up! I'm the head robber and I'm in charge here. Probably a mistake to use my voice because now you know what I sound like. (cockney accent) Or do you? (German accent) You vill never learn zee truth! (normal voice) And so on. You! You there, with the backpack and wearing a ski mask.**
Me?
**What's your name kid?**
I'd rather not say.
**Smart! I mean, maybe not so smart. It's 93 degrees outside and you're wearing a ski mask. You don't see that much, outside of stealing stuff. Look, I don't recommend my line of work but should you ever, you know, fall by the wayside, I'd like to recommend this disguise.**
What disguise?
**See? It's ingenious. (Claps hands together.) Now then, tellers, I want you--**
Excuse me, could I leave?
**What, now? Come on, kid. You leave after we leave plus that laying down and counting to one hundred business. Have you ever seen a bank robbery movie?**
Of course! Too many, perhaps.
**I like you kid. Sure, I'll let you leave. Just curious though, what's in the bag?**
The bag? (looks down) Uh... Urine sample. Doctors appointment. I may have a UTI and yeah, doc's like "you know the drill" but I don't because Im only fifteen and this has never happened to me. So can I go?
**Sure, kid. Now get out of here! That looks like a really big sample.**
I drink a lot of Big Gulps.
**Probably what gave you a UTI in the first place. (laughs) I kid. My first job was at a 711. That's where I got the idea to steal from people. It's so much more profitable.**
It sure is. Bye, Mister! (runs out)
**That kid sure seemed nice. (turns to camera to address the reader). You know that bank robberies are bad, but you know what's worse? A urinary tract infection. Folks, be careful out there. If you have pelvic pain, an increased urge to urinate, or see blood in your urine, call your doctor. Please. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a bank to rob (turns, walks back to teller window with a smile).**
EDIT: added a few lines
| No robber would ever expect a bank employee to already have cleared out the vault. The robbers command everyone to get down on the floor. As I am sitting on the floor clutching my backpack to my chest I start scooting on my butt backwards as the bank robbers are occupied with the tellers and other customers. I just need to make it 20 ft to my office and desk where I can hide the backpack in my secret compartment that I built into my desk. One of the robbers looks over to me but after he notices my name tag he moves into the next customer. Worried that they will move onto the vault and realize it is empty I continue to move towards my desk wondering where the cops are since I had already set off my silent alarm that the robbers don't know I am wearing.
It seems like time is going so slow when finally the cops pull into the parking lot. This buys me more time as the hostage negotiator distracts the leader of the gang away from the vault. The negotiations go on for awhile and finally the robbers agree to let one employee and one customer go as a sign of good faith to get a helicopter to make their escape in.
I help an elderly man with a cane out of the branch and the cops rush to get us to safety. I am able to cry and act scared at any time so as the emts are checking me out they are convinced I am in shock and transport me to the hospital. The ER is luckily very busy as I am left alone behind my curtain for awhile. I get up and walk away never to be seen or heard from again.
The beaches and snorkeling in Belize are amazing year round and 300,000 goes a long way down here. | 2017-06-28T19:09:08 | 2017-06-28T17:17:32 | 254 | 24 |
[WP] Everyone on Planet Earth gets a text message. "We are sorry to announce that the online servers for our game Planet Earth will be shutting down in 7 days. | Galvin tossed his headset down, banging a fist on his desk.
"Damnit!" he yelled, "That promotion was mine! What a fucking gyp!" Donald from Accounting had managed to claim credit for a medical billing overhaul that was *his* brainchild, one he had spent months on. Galvin watched his avatar slump into a gaudily upholstered ruby couch and begin drinking whiskey.
You could control most of your *Earthside: Reborn* character's actions, but when a particularly traumatic incident occurred, they seemed to develop minds of their own. Galvin knew from past experience that Ronnie, his Level 26 Human Research and Developer, would likely be out of action for the night. Just as he was about to flip off the simulation, a call flashed in.
"Hey, mudslinger! You logged into *Earthside*?" It was Macon, Galvin's best friend and *Earthside* compatriot.
"Yeah dude, about to log out though. Donald the douchenozzle stole my promotion, and my guy is just drinking himself to death in his living room. Won't respond to any of my commands."
"Ah, sucks man. That happened last week when my Soldier saw his buddy get shot in the head. I couldn't play for a week! I hope they patch the 'autonomy delay' next update."
Galvin grunted. Each patch seemed to cause a dozen more problems for each one it fixed. To encourage character diversity, the last update had boosted the Willpower and Strength of anyone playing a Terrorist, resulting in millions of avatars getting displaced or killed. Galvin had been chided for choosing a white-collar male in America, one of the safest and most affluent zones, but he had no desire to wade through the lawless PvP Middle-Eastern areas.
As by divine providence, a glowing announcement flashed on Galvin's screen.
**Earthside: Reborn will be shutting down for maintenance in thirty (30) minutes. Downtime is expected to last six (6) hours. Please see the attached Patch Change Log for more details.**
"Great. You see that?" Macon asked. "Yeah," replied Gavin, "Let's see what they're going to ruin *this* time."
Summoning the patch notes, Macon read the following:
*Earthside: Reborn Update Version 9.124:
(1) Decreased crop production of Africa continent by 35%. Swift economic development has been out of line with the challenge sought for these players, and this should balance the level of difficulty.
(2) Docility of all non-politically affiliated players in the Americas and Europe increased by 28%. Democratic ideals have been threatening the game's power structures, and this passivity upgrade should help reinforce authority.
(3) A 15% increase in Aggressiveness for all global police and military should help to solidify national power while simultaneously providing enjoyable conflict scenarios.
(4) Charisma of all radical religious leaders increased by 40%.
(5) Kyrgyzstan is no longer a country. Avatars will be randomly relocated throughout Asia.
(6) Dogs can now read minds, but only those with IQs above 140.
(7) Immaculate concept rate increase from 1/100,000,000,000 to 1/1,000. With the new religious fervor, we anticipate some exciting times.
(8) A third gender will officially be live. They will be able to mate with both males and females. And no, Rick, they will not have trunks.
As always, we welcome our users' feedback!*
"I know I always say this, but I'm seriously going to quit this game," Macon lamented.
| "We are sorry to announce that the online servers for our game Planet Earth will be shutting down in 7 days."
Everyone just looked around for a while, before someone finally asked.“Did anyone else just hear....”. I think every group has people like this, who are willing to brave ridicule to get their point across. They are mostly ridiculous though. In this case, someone in the back said yes and repeated same the message, and then it was as if all hell broke loose. Twitter and facebook was flooded with messages.
Even people who had gone deaf reported in, that they had heard a voice. While Elon Musk was jumping about "how he was right”, and rest of us were panicking, something interesting was observed. The peculiar reports started coming in from the around the world. The phenomenon had been strangely limited. It had been localized almost almost entirely to people in USA,England and other commonwealth nations had reported hearing, what had been starting to be known as “The Voice”. Almost all with English as the official language. Even for people in those countries, if you knew even one extra language, you would not hear it. There was a constant thrum in my ears, as if there was a count down going down. But, only for people who knew only English. It seemed Brexit had pissed some important people off. I would say to them that they were having a massive overreaction and a hissy fit, but frankly I was pissed off too.
There was a horde. People immediately started piling over everything from Rosetta Stone to duolingo, whose servers promptly crashed. English was basically going to be a dead language pretty soon. A national week long holiday was declared, with TV stations en masse shifting programming to either language channels. Immigrants was immediately welcomed, as everyone clamored to learn any language from Spanish to Hindi. As an aside, people learning hindi were idiots, as the script was completely different, but well you can’t cure stupidity, no matter how taste you make the curry. But I digress.
It was eventually very easy to beat. Someone intelligent I assume, just devised a new language. Modeled after Furbish and Dovazhul, the language respectively of a cute cuddly Chinese toy and massive dragons in a video game, it could be learned in a few hours by almost anyone. And so most people did. The timer stopped and almost everything went back to normal, as apart from scientists and priests everyone went back to their jobs.
I didn’t. The thrumming is becoming increasingly frantic as the countdown is going down.. The last message I heard was almost twenty four hours ago and it said "One day left". Is there any point, I wonder? To quote Shakespeare
”All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits”
and this one is mine.
| 2016-07-08T20:37:40 | 2016-07-08T20:11:06 | 25 | 12 |
[WP] One day, time just suddenly stops for a short moment for you. At first, you tried to mess around, but after the 246th times it happened, you start to realise that your power is not stopping time, but being able to move in time frozen by another person in the world.
Just an idea that randomly popped up in my head. | The time stops. The first time it had happened was months ago, and only for a few shocking seconds. I remember being afraid I'd had a stroke or something, but I never got it checked out. How do you tell a doctor that one second you're eating lunch and then nothing moves but you?
The second time was maybe five minutes. I panicked when it started, but once I realized I was in control of myself and didn't seem like anything was wrong, it started seeming less terrifying. I admit, I did a few things I shouldn't have. Took advantage of the situation. A few dropped pants and tied shoes, nothing worse than that. Not like I could do anything more elaborate anyway, since I never knew when the time stops were coming or how long they'd last.
I knew somehow instinctively that I wasn't making time stop. Once I figured that out, I felt a little disappointed, but it didn't bother me ultimately. Whoever it was didn't do a time stop very often, and they didn't manage to get me when the time was wrong, so it didn't bother me much. That is, until today. Or would it be more accurate to say three "days" ago?
The time stops started picking up frequency over the last few weeks. Once a day, then twice a day, sometimes three or four. Fifteen minute stretches, thirty minutes. The longest one was about three hours. Inconvenient at best and downright boring at worst. It was always in the back of my head that I should find out who was doing this and give them a talking-to. Did they know whatever they were doing didn't affect me? Were they playing a prank on me or something? But every time I'd gotten to the point where I was just fed up enough to try, time would pop back into reality and I'd eventually forget the frustration.
Except for this one. After six hours had stretched on with no end in sight, I decided it was time to make good on my threats. It took a bit of calming down and being focused, but I finally felt an odd feeling, like a compass needle pointing me in a direction. Since time hadn't returned, I followed it. Not like I have anything better to do.
I was on day three when I found the room.
A woman lay in a hospital bed, tubes sprouting from seemingly everywhere around her. To her right, a doctor stood, his hand poised over a silent machine. And to her left, a man sat in an uncomfortable-looking chair. His right hand rested on the woman's forehead, gently brushing her hair from her face with his thumb. His left hand's fingers intertwined with hers, their gold rings tapping against each other. And his head was downturned, staring at the floor, until the sound of my footsteps made one haggard eye raise up over his outstretched left arm.
We looked at each other in silence for a moment, then he looked away, his hand resuming stroking her hair. He looked like shit. Like he'd been crying for three days straight.
I stood still for a moment, then simply brought a chair from another room and sat down quietly next to him. He didn't acknowledge me. I could see his chest heaving again with silent, pained sobs.
And time stretched on.
-------------------------------------------
First time posting here. Prompt lodged a scene in my head and I knew better than to ignore it. Just wrote it and did barely any editing before posting, so please be kind to me! I haven't written anything more or less since my degree burned away all my desire to write, lol. | I walk through the streets, aimlessly at first, but my mind gains direction and my feet purpose. I look up at the clock tower a few blocks away at Central Square. Fifteen after. My watch shows 8:18. “I didn’t notice for three minutes,” I say as I sigh. “Oh well, I’ll grab a snack.”
I don’t usually think out loud; only when I know I won’t be heard. This is one of those times, but as I approach the gas station, I quiet down, just in case. Inside, I take my time browsing until I settle on an ice cream sandwich from the cooler. I set a couple bucks on the counter, probably more than the sandwich is worth, and look at the man standing in line. Balding, angry and covering the bags under his eyes with sunglasses. I’d say middle-management, heading out for the weekend with his family. They’re waiting in the car while he negotiates the rising price of gas. I step back outside and glance at his car while I’m passing. Two kids and a dog. Poor guy. He’ll probably have an aneurism before he gets his next promotion. The ice cream drips down my hand, and I continue to wander aimlessly.
My watch shows 8:25. It’s a long one today. Maybe I’m getting better at controlling it. After a short mental debate, I head to the closest park bench. Another drop falls down my hand, following in the trail of its predecessor. This one drips off, freezing in midair as soon as it disconnects from me. If I ever find a girlfriend, I’ll show her the wonders of the world. As long as we hold hands, our lives will be infinite. I pondered for a moment on whether or not I grew old during these interludes, knowing I wouldn’t have the first clue on how to check.
My watch shows 8: 30. I glance up at a formation of geese, frozen just like the drop of cream in front of me. An imagined movement catches the corner of my eye. The clock tower shows 8:21 frozen on its face and my breath catches. Did time start again? I didn’t feel the usual stomach lurch. Maybe I’m just getting used to it, finally.
The geese still hover above me, and the woman in the car at the gas station still has that stupid expression on her face. I hear the click as the clock tower hits the half hour. My attention turns once more to the magnificent gothic building and the man on top of it, fixing some antenna or another. He stands and turns, looking down on me. Though I can’t see his expression, it has to be as dumbfounded as mine.
| 2018-01-26T07:14:36 | 2018-01-26T07:06:31 | 39 | 14 |
[WP] When two people get married, on the day of the wedding they are both given the ability to alter the appearance of their spouse to anything they wish. How do they change each other? How do they respond to what has been done to them? | It was a chilled autumn evening when Jaina’s cold ring finger was suddenly surrounded by a warmth that ran up to her knuckle.
“Will you marry me?” said Jonathan.
To him, she was the most beautiful woman in the world. And in that brief moment, perhaps just long enough to say “yes,” Jonathan became the happiest man in the world.
For years, Jonathan had wondered if he would ever get married. Although he has been told that he had gorgeous eyes (his best friend, Kayla, always told him he had the doe eyes), he had never been complimented in any other way. He was on the shorter side. The many years he spent sitting in front of a screen writing millions upon millions of lines of code left him in a rather… Well, he was in shape. He was just a circle.
Frankly, Jonathan was just happy that someone finally loved him for… Well… Him!
The days flew by as their wedding day approached.
The night before their wedding, a strange spirit appeared before the couple.
“On the day of your wedding, I shall allow you each to alter the appearances of one another as you so please!”
*poof*
The spirit vanished.
“The Hell was that?” Asked Jaina.
“I honestly have no clue. Like we literally had no dialogue, this spooky ghost just appears before us, and tells us this. I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I mean… I guess we could give it a try? Let’s just both think of how we want each his other to look, and maybe this isn’t some wacky prank.”
“If that’s really what you want, I guess I’ll do it.”
A day passed.
Jonathan looked in the mirror. He looked nothing like he used to. He had broad shoulders, chiseled six pack abs, and blue eyes.
He texted Jaina and they met up immediately.
Jaina was furious as she angrily exclaimed, “What the Hell!!! I thought you agreed to make me look perfect! YOU got to become the perfect man. But I’m still stuck here with freakin’ B-cups!”
Jonathan stared into her eyes. “My dear, I always thought you were perfect just the way you are.”
Jaina quickly responded, “Look, we can always fix some of these issues later, but I can’t believe you wasted this magic wish! Now we have to get plastic surgery, which could leave scars on me! HOW COULD YOU BE THIS SELFISH???”
“… Goodbye,” said Jonathan as he began to walk away. Tears began dripping down the side of his cheek.
Jonathan then sent Kayla a quick text: “You were right.”
An instant response, “No worries! You’ll always have me around! You still on for coming with me to that Chess tournament on Saturday?”
Jonathan smiled and texted back a simple “yes.” | It should come as no surprise that, when two furries get married, they each wish for the other person to become their true fursona, their inner animal that radiates the strongest in them. So when I woke up the next morning on the first day of the honeymoon, my wife and I somehow literally having become one flesh as a four-armed, two-headed, twin-tailed hermaphroditic self-procreating [bassarisk](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ringtail) taur, it really shouldn't have sent that many shockwaves throughout the community. But apparently, it's really rare for two people whom God has picked to be husband and wife to actually meet, let alone get married, and so that Biblical saying about their union can get a lot more literal when certain appearance-altering wishes are made.
Years have gone by since that day, and our many kids - who thankfully, at least for now, are normal humans - are starting to set out into the world themselves. Every night we pray that they, too, may find the person God has picked out for them, and we still have another litter on the way even now. It is good that our sudden fame brought us fortune and that we made good investments with it, as otherwise we'd be on the streets instead of in a mansion to house our family that could rival the Hopps' in its size. We run our lower belly, nipples pert for breastfeeding, and are about to relax for the night when the phone rings. We shed a few joyful tears when our first-born child shows up on the screen, conjoined to his wife as a two-headed hermaphroditic wolf. Yes, it may seem like a curse, literally being of one flesh with your spouse, but we can tell you: It is a blessing and joy that few things on Earth can match.
Edit: Two-headed, not two-handed. Thanks u/VennTheSW for pointing out that typo brought on by autocorrect. | 2022-12-08T00:57:21 | 2022-12-07T22:07:24 | 40 | 29 |
[WP] You’ve just realized that you are not a human, but rather a parasite controlling someone. | He was only thirteen when I wormed my way inside,
Us both only searching, for the safest place to hide.
Crushed flowers from the funeral clung tightly to his boots,
His mind already churning to the darkness of his suit.
I tried to keep him safe, beneath the covers of his bed,
I tried to hush the thoughts, that screeched inside his head.
At school they taunted him, as he ate his lunch alone,
But with my help he kept it in, expression never shown.
I taught him how alcohol could help to numb the pain,
That sleep was only wasteful, no hope from dreams to gain.
When education failed him, I was there to catch,
Wormed my way in deeper, through a rusting hatch.
When the state declared him, fit to be employed,
I dragged him deeper, inside the safety of the void.
It was a therapist that found me, on a dull October day,
We were both still thirteen, at least in a certain way.
A rancid rotting mind, trapped inside a fractured heart,
Two weary vessels waiting for their tickets to depart.
He scribbled a prescription, said it might alleviate,
Might make it bearable, the burden of the freight.
And although the pills now numb me,
and I slowly fade away,
I'll wait inside the recesses,
for him, I'll always stay.
Hidden in the darkness,
for the darker day.
---
/r/nickofnight | It wasn't fair.
I knew that I was human. But now, I also knew that I was not.
Every memory is mine, but I have stolen them from him.
I am a parasite, and this man my victim. I did not ask for this - but neither did he.
I was still so young; I had so many dreams. So many of his dreams.
It would be so easy to forget.
Above all, I know that I love her.
I know that *he* loves her.
And I know that to deny someone the love that I feel for her...
***
Just allow me one more day, dear human, to say goodbye to her.
And to find a way to die, so that you may live. | 2017-12-21T00:01:02 | 2017-12-20T22:36:48 | 1,774 | 117 |
[WP] You were born with a birth mark the shape of a "9" on your wrist, one day you get in a fatal car accident. You wake up in a strange room and the first thing you notice is the 9 has changed to an 8 | Blurry... blurry...blurry... and then *clear.* Drop-ceiling tiles. A florescent light. Scrubbed walls. Buzzing. I was on my side. What was I laying on? A table?
I looked down. My arms were bent in unwholesome angles, and there, livid and black, on the inside of my wrist... The number.
"Complete loss?"
The voice came from behind me. I tried to turn my head, but... *nothing*. I felt the hot spike of panic shoot up my spine.
"Yes, but it was bound to happen, sooner or later. We were able to do a full swap, with no lasting damage." a reedy voice said in reply.
Two men?
"I still can't believe how much this thing cost. It had better be worth it." The first said, clearly doubtful.
"It's the best data we've ever gotten, sir. The results speak for themselves. How else could we build truly accurate models? The emulation is the best available, and *human reactions* are as important as physical-"
"Yes, yes". I heard the rustle of fabric as he stood. "I heard the pitch the first time. It's just a damn good thing we've got *seven more* of these things."
I felt a hand on my chin, and my head yanked so that I was eye to eye with the man who possessed that first voice. His hair was cut short, he had scornful eyes, hidden behind hard-angled wire framed glasses, and as he pursed his lips, I thought of how much his face looked like a toothache. I blinked.
I saw a look of surprise tremor through his hurtful brow.
"Double check the... the optics, will you? I think I just saw it-"
"Well, I can check the *feed* pretty easily, I just need to give it something to- Oh, hold on! *Here.* There probably isn't anything wrong, though, considering what these things are *built to withstand*..."
A plain mirror was shoved in front of me. I felt something in my head go *click!*
[...And I stared.](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/15/0d/d6/150dd6680a0a7180bd90c69c0ecdf986.jpg)
| "Making my way downtown. Driving fast. Driving faster~."
Ugh, dust and burnt steel(-No, aluminium?) clogging my nostrils and I still can't get that damn song out of my head. Also smells like hot tar. Wonder how close my head is to the street. I'd check, but I literally looking at the back side of my left leg (I know it's the left one because I have a peculiar birthmark on it), although that could be a new ash stain for all I know.
The only thing I know for sure is that I'm not going to risk more damage. You know that splitting headache and grogginess most people feel after getting T-boned on a one-way freeway? Me neither. The bastard hit me driverside and through a short series of broken windshields, a smack against my ear, and a succession of contortions cirque du solei style, I ended up here. I had an unharmed friend in the passenger seat try to pry me out of the wreckage, but despite there being no debris actually blocking my escape, my former friend was too weak and gave up after a petty attempt with half-bent knees.
Instead, he assured me he'd call for help, then told a concerned bystander to call for help. I closed my eyes in contempt, but my old friend mistook the gesture for sleepiness, and giggled as he pulled out his magic marker he must have kept up his ass.
When I opened my eyes he was gone. And so my patience. | 2016-08-03T19:50:27 | 2016-08-03T19:17:28 | 370 | 11 |
[WP] You are the Chosen One. The Dark Overlord is currently trying to seduce you to their cause. To their great surprise, you accept almost immediately because you absolutely loathe your job and your companions. | The Summoner pauses after his offer, appearing expectant while in reality simply buying time for the ritual that swirls angrily behind him. Much to the chagrin of his companions, the fool "chosen one" seems to be actually considering it! The Summoner had hoped for perhaps a few seconds of traded barbs before having to fight to defend the ritual, but a simple offer of the second highest position of power in the new order seemed to be bearing fruit far beyond any expectation.
"Well," The Chosen says "if we're even to consider this you'll need to prop up your misaligned runes."
His companions are aghast.
"Tor!" one of them says. "You can't be serious!"
"Sure I am." He responds. "I'm Tor Jensen: The Chosen One. I know what I'm doing. Trust me."
The Summoner, meanwhile, spares a suspicious glance at the circle behind him to find that the runes do seem a bit off kilter. And the Chosen had known that? Keeping one eye on the bickering party of heroes, he grabs his reference tome and begins searching it for the alignment chart.
"It's the Forogath sigil." Calls the voice of Tor Jensen: The Chosen One as the man points at the tornado of arcane power before turning back to his companions and continuing to fail at placating them. Much to the Summoner's surprise, the relevant application of arcane power works brilliantly, forcing the rings of swirling energy into perfect concentricity. The Summoner turns back to the Chosen with a puzzled look. Tor shrugs.
"Hey, just because my signature weapon is a spear doesn't mean I can't know magic stuff. I did my resear-"
A deafening crack interrupts him as the ritual reaches it's apex. The Summoner watches with glee, the Chosen's companions with horror, and Tor Jensen himself passively as the Dark Desyroyer falls through the portal and into the material plane, where it crashes into the ground and blinks stupidly.
"See guys?" Says Tor to his companions as he walks over to the unmoving form of the legendary monster that had just been freed from a millennium of banishment. He places his hand on the snout of the beast, as if to indicate that it is totally harmless.
The Destroyer snaps him up in one bite, chewing once before swallowing him. It stands, some gore dripping from it's lips, and the Summoner cackles victoriously as he orders it to smite the companions of the Chosen One. It does not comply, however, instead turning a massive head to stare directly at the Summoner.
"Does that tome of yours not say my name?" It asks.
"What, must I command you by name? I-" The Summoner begins frantically searching his tome, reading aloud as he skims the pages.
"bla bla once a terror of - uh huh - true form banished to the plane of - uhhhh - soul cursed to walk in human form with - dah dah dah - never shall the soul reunite with the - Oh! here we go. I command you, Torjen Sung, to slay these..."
The Summoner trails off. The Chosen's party remains frozen in disbelief and the Destroyer looks at him as though daring him to continue. A small chunk of Tor Jensen falls from Torjen Sung's mouth as the beast grins.
"Like I said." The Destroyer rumbles. "I know what I'm doing." | “Your numbers are not very impressive, Lysander. The Board believes you have reached a plateau and that is time to freshen things up.” I shared the Boards’ feedback with my boss while steel kept clashing with steel.
“How dare you criticize my work, Sylvanus?! I took you in when no one would face you, I molded you to my image, I taught you how to tame your darkness; you belong to me” he answered with the same dark glare he used the first time we met. Flurry met parry and a slash to my arm managed to mutilate the sleeve off my suit and make blood trickle.
“This is what we’re talking about. According to our polls, the Kingdom is no longer scared of you. Your terror tactics are dated and people have grown accustomed; and while not many have the initiative of actually engaging, most are becoming indifferent. Even your scowl, it’s not threatening anymore, I even find it endearing”. The distraction succeeded in leaving him open to being disarmed.
As I pressed the tip of the sword against his neck, he couldn’t keep a question to himself. “And you think you can do a better job?”
“I am their Chosen One, aren’t I?” To the board I’d tell them of a precise cut that severed the tyrant’s head cleanly. But to honor my mentor’s memory I took decided to slowly hack at his head with the blunt edge of the blade and use the time to pay my respects.
As the clock in my new office marked noon, an assistant came in, helped me disrobe and led me to a pool with warm water. As I bathed and another subordinate stitched my injuries, the Board members briefed me on the schedule for the rest of the day.
Elegantly dressed, adorned with sober, yet powerful regalia, I took the stage. “Members if the Plutonic Society and Elite, today we embrace change. Our leader Lord Lysander has chosen to retire himself. The scum out there will rejoice, thinking their suffering is over. But fear not. The Board of Oracles has stated that I, Sylvanus, VP of the Elite, step up to be the new head of our Society.”
“As your new leader I promise: We will take this entitled, self-absorbed vermin, build up their hopes and dreams, and when they least expect it, crush them from within. The Time of Fear, Lysander’s reign, has come to a close. Starting today, together we will bring forth a new Age of Despair, the era of Sylvanus. And we will make them pay” | 2019-09-26T11:17:08 | 2019-09-26T07:44:38 | 26 | 14 |
[WP] One day everyone notices the words "Human Update 1.1 progress 1%" in the corner of their eye. | Human v1.1 Patch Notes
* Fixed an issue where eyes can become desynced from the balancing system, causing locomotion problems.
* Corrected a race condition that could cause speech to begin before the thought process for that speech had exited cleanly.
* Fixed a bug in the low level logic engine that caused some versions of the Human to not recognize other versions of Human as valid communication and cooperation targets. This problem was mostly an issue when Humans from different regions were in the same area.
* Corrected a very prevalent problem that would cause one hand to be vastly more dexterous than the other. Due to legacy issues previously manufactured Humans will not benefit from this change, but all new Humans created by Humans with this update installed will.
* Corrected some behavior in the immune system firmware that was causing unreasonable reactions to very minor pathogens, causing damage to the throat, eyes, and sinuses.
* Fixed an issue where the eyes would be delayed in adjusting to light levels, causing pain and short term damage when moving from very dark areas to very bright areas. This issue was most prevalent after waking from sleep.
* Increased the precision of the limb motion and awareness subsystems. This should help avoid toes and knees colliding with objects while walking, and hands and elbow hitting objects while moving the arms.
* Optimized the digestion routines to more accurately determine when enough food had been eaten, this should cut down on the amount of food consumed by about 20%.
* Corrected an issue that was causing sweet beverages to be favored heavily. A much wider variety of beverages should now be equally as appealing.
* Removed unused drivers for the appendix, as the hardware is no longer used in any current production model of Human.
* Increased the timing accuracy on the circulatory system, which should increase the time the heart can be in High Performance mode before the oxygen supply is exhausted and a rest cycle must start.
* Optimized the utilization patterns of the muscles in the upper body of the female variant of Human, which should result in increased upper body strength when apply torque to things such as jars and bottle tops.
* Corrected a volume equalization issue that was causing some female speech to be ignored by the speech processing hardware. This issue mostly affected the male variant of Human, and became most pronounced in models with the marriage subsystem active.
* Added some debugging functions and logging systems to make future versions of the Human firmware easier to test and deploy
Thank you for updating! | Sometimes we ask for it. There's something in us as human beings that pushes us, ever closer to edges, cliffs. We like to be our own saviors; to resolve the very problems we create.
Another Monday morning. But today we all noticed it: progress. Progress is a funny thing. We need it. But we fight it. One percent. And counting. I had an inkling that the chip wasn't just another medical advancement. It wasn't just going to help doctors save me from a heart attack or debit my bank account as I purchased the burger that would cause it. We all got one. The chip became our wallets, our identity, our lives. But now it seemed like it was something else entirely: an invasion.
"Well what the hell happens when it's complete!?" My girlfriend shrieked. She was always nervous but now she couldn't hide it. Two percent.
"I don't know."
Riding to work, my car took a wrong turn. I hate these things. Let me put my hands on the wheel. I want control.
When I arrived, the blinking meter reached ten percent. But I was not at work. My car had taken me to the hospital; a huge grey building that always seemed to me more like a prison than a care center.
Vision: black, then blurry, then blinding white. I think I am dead. A voice of someone I don't know and from somewhere that seems like inside my own head says calmly,
"Welcome. Now is eternal. Enjoy living on The Substrate." | 2015-03-04T17:27:53 | 2015-03-04T17:04:42 | 519 | 19 |
[WP] Your Reddit username decides your profession. How is your first day at work?
If possible. Some usernames just don't work well in this situation.
---
I'm an FBI agent now. Wooo!
You're all under arrest for conspiracy to commit treason.
---
Dear God RIP my inbox | "For the hundredth time, my name is not supposed to be a sly reference to my genitalia!"
"Look, kid, no one's gonna believe you. Fact of the matter is, you're either goddamn brilliant or denser than a neutron star for choosing that handle, and it doesn't matter. You have it, and your job from now on is writing euphemistic copy for The Shallot."
"I don't even know what that is."
"Someone thought it would be cute to spoof a satire site, but make the humor about dick jokes instead of, you know, anything actually funny."
"What if I'm no good at that?"
"Then you'll fit right in."
"It's just my name, for Christ's sake! I'm a big dude and it's my literal, actual name."
"Jesus, you really are that dense, aren't you?"
"I can't help how people see my name."
"... I don't know what to tell you. Actually, I do. Go watch everything the Wayans Brothers ever made, really soak in the adolescent filth, and you're well on your way to being an expert dick joke slinger."
"I can't afford that."
"Kid, we have them on the server here. There's a room where they're always playing."
"What's it called?"
"What?"
"The room where it's playing."
"It's the fucking viewing room."
"I just thought maybe it was called 'The Ball Pit' or something."
"Are you fucking with me?"
"I might be."
"Get out of my office." | I'm all moved in. The office is fully furnished, degrees and certifications well hung on the wall. It's been more than a week now though and I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't a little concerned. No one has shown up and the phone is silent - apart from the occasional, wildly inappropriate prank call.
I guess some people are hard. Some people take more time to come. After all, this is a highly specialized client I'm looking for: someone that needs a fully certified Analysist AND Therapist.
Well, once word gets out I'll have to beat off the crowds with my bare hands. They'll even be trying to come in my backdoor. Such is the life of the world's first Analrapist. | 2016-02-22T09:41:21 | 2016-02-22T09:31:34 | 91 | 15 |
[WP] An old, forgotten god is living their days peacefully in the suburbs. One day they randomly receives a prayer. And they are going to do everything in their power to answer it. | The hills rolled away in the distance around the old forgotten monument.
"This is stone henge. It was built over a period of thousands of - please keep an eye on your kids while we're near the stones."
A 3 year old ran under the ropes and made a break for the stones. The parents didn't even realise, nose deep in their phones.
"Can someone stop that child?"
I loved the history. I hated giving tours. The child slipped and fell. An elderly gentleman hopped over the barrier and brough the now screaming child back.
The mother glanced up.
"What are you doing to my fucking child? Don't go touching him you pedo!"
I could have punched her in the face. I wanted to. Instead I stayed calm.
"Excuse me, but your child ran past the barriers. This man had to stop him because you did nothing. If you can't control your child, please leave."
I waved at security. Both the parents were kicking off now while the kid was left unattended again. I didn't sign up for this.
"Please calm down. I can take you to the side and we can report what happe-"
"Calm down? After he just hit my child? Do you want to get kicked too?"
The rest of the tour backed away. Then I was on the floor. Security had to drag the father off of me. I saw a growing pool of blood. I couldn't move.
The police arrived. I sat as someone patched me up. Just a broken nose and a few cuts. It could have been much worse; thats what they told me. I wondered what the builders of the henge would have thought; were they turning in their graves? No one respected history and its mysteries anymore. What could have been an ancient shrine, a complex sundial or even just a meeting place had become a tourist attraction treated like a playground.
I stared at the stones.
"If there's a God out there who cares for this place, help me."
Nothing happened immediately, yet as I watched the stones grew dark. It was as if they sucked in the shadows around them. Then my phone rang. An unknown number that appeared to be from London. I answered.
"You called. I can see the necessary blood offering has been made. I must say the prayer is a welcome surprise and you even used your own blood, my favourite sacrifice. It's been centuries since I've had a prayer."
My jaw dropped at the voice. My nose clicked into place. The bleeding stopped.
"Wh-who is this?"
"God of death at your service, and don't worry, the healing is complimentary. Now what's the problem?" | "O! Czernobog, I have a request of thee..."
What a way to Awaken, eh? Well, Re-Awaken, but the point remains. You never forget your first time, and after a few dozen years, it might as well be your first time again. I'm so ready. What do you want?
"...of thee. My friend, my neighbor, he is a holy man who fears God. Not the gods, not the spirits, but God. He will not mow his lawn, nor remove his filth from the yard, on his holy day. Make him believe again in the old gods, and remind him of his duties to the community!"
...well, then. Convert a Christian to the old gods. I used to do that all the time.
If only I could remember how... I recall flame and pestilence, salted fields and war. I hear that the local Christians call this "a Trial" and don't much care.
Fine.
I'll smite his sheep... he has no sheep. Then I'll make his children impotent! But, wait, that will only make them sad, not encourage belief...
I can make his wife bear the head of a cow! Perfect!
...what the fuck is a "National Enquirer", and why is the wife famous?
Fuck it all, I'll replace garden with mushrooms.
Who notices extinct mushrooms and makes money from them? They were all over the place 200 years ago in Siberia!
Well, fine. I'll spend the rest of my power and manifest in front of him.
I'm on TV now.
I have beleivers... and the "neighbor" from before lives elsewhere, so the yard is clean now... Fuck it all, I'll count it as a win. | 2018-05-30T00:59:15 | 2018-05-29T23:02:28 | 111 | 61 |
[WP] You are a Logistics Officer during an invasion. Tell the course of the war solely from equipment requisitions. | It started simple enough. Automatic supply systems kicked in at first. A thousand or so PD-9's, atomic cores, bayfield sensors and kinetic armor plates were all the specials that came through the office. It was so routine at first I thought I was resupplying training stocks. Then they briefed me.
0900, 36.04 -116.42, just west of the Nevada cost an unknown object approximately 400 meters in diameter crashed into the Death Valley Gulf. Early news reports stated it was likely an asteroid that had made it past the deep field radar system that's meant to detect asteroids on potential collision courses with Earth. That misinformation was quickly corrected when CETI announced detection of an abnormal powerful hyper light signal... being transmitted from Earth.
It's unknown where first contact was made or if the aliens were hostile when first approached. What I do know is in two days I shipped out 12,000 BCDs. Body bags.
The next three weeks was a flurry of requests. Top brass told me to green tag anything and everything front command wanted. So I did. Three-thousand atomic rocket grenades to Vegas. Four-hundred experimental sonic flack drivers to Phoenix. Eighteen-hundred flame-throwers. We dug ten-thousand 300 year old hand grenades out of a cemented in base in West Virginia and sent them to El Paso.
Each week the requests became more and more extravagant. Things, I wasn't even sure we still had, or ever had. Ten-tousand liters of MDS0-4 and three-thousand water-rifles. Fifty tons of C4 and eighteen-tousand German Shepherds. Twenty-eight crossbows. Four-hundred tons of cockroaches.
Every request was a little more batshit insane than the last. A little more desperate. Every one shipped just a little closer to us and that scared me the most.
I'm not sure what to make of this most recent request. Is it another desperate idea? A celebration? Or are they just making sure to enjoy humanities last days?
REQ; 40,000 (FORTY-THOUSAND) LITERS LIQUOR (ANY)
I add a five to the order and keep them for myself. | OFFICIAL REPORT
~~4 January~~ REDACTED
Night-vision goggles, silencers, automatic weapons
~~*internal note:* to be added to register only after official declaration~~ REDACTED.
7 January,
Helicopter x 3
Long range missile
Guns
10 January,
Salaries of 10,000 additional
Current newspaper
Ability to secure rooftop x 4
Broadcasting cameras
11 January,
News statements
Curfew and permit issuance
14 January,
Additional forces brought in from other branches,
Higher officers elected as peacekeepers - salary increase
~~Snipers x 16~~ REDACTED
15 January,
~~Scapegoat~~ REDACTED
Tank, soldiers for parade
Microphone, security of large area for speech
Processional funeral
~~Concrete~~ REDACTED
~~Unused land~~ REDACTED
16 January
Supplies for new flag
Automatic weapons
Additional air force resources to secure peace
20 January
Retention of 20,000 soldiers
~~Black site operational~~ REDACTED
Peace statement drafted and presented to press
12 February
Ceremony for acceptance
Outfittings for new regime
Ceremony for war heroes to be on April 5
Retention of 10,000 soldiers remaining until unrest ends
| 2016-04-10T07:39:43 | 2016-04-10T07:04:51 | 209 | 47 |
[WP] You are God, and you wanted to experience life as a human to see how you would turn out. In order to do that you became a baby that was born and you made yourself forget that you are God until your 30th birthday. It's your 30th birthday and you are a serial killer waiting for his death penalty.
Edit: Holy shit I wrote this and went straight to bed, I'm going to read all of your replies now, thank you. This is my first writing prompt, I'm so glad you guys liked it. | Five minutes till midnight. They say they have a metaphorical clock that ticks closer the more humanity stumbles its way towards an inevitable end and that five minutes to midnight means that things are not going well.
Funny thing about that tendency for self destruction is that it was something that I never had. I may have made them in my image but they've progressed in ways that even I couldn't have even begun to fathom. I made a world for them and they decided that it was too small...so they pushed the boundaries to seek what was beyond their proverbial bird cage.
Four minutes till midnight. Honestly, I'm impressed, some call it arrogance and others claim that sometimes humanity goes too far and 'plays God'.
That turn of phrase always amused me... I mean, why wouldn't they play God? Most children want to be just like their fathers, right? They should be commended, finding ways to shape the world and to seek what lies beyond the scope of their vision.
Three minutes till midnight. So, for once, I thought God should play at being human... I wanted to see it from their perspective. Admittedly, this is not what I had imagined. But despite what they believe, even I am not infallible.
In order to get this right, I made sure I was a blank slate. The idea was simple, the knowledge of who I am leaves me just before birth and it returns just before death...so it would seem I'm not getting out of this.
Two minutes till midnight. I only barely y remember how it happened, to be honest; a troubled childhood, a few bullies and an absent father... I see how difficult it can be for them.
Nevertheless, I am guilty of the crime, ten murders over five years...five long years without bring caught and then one small slip up and I'm where I am now. And now with the burden of knowledge.
One minute till midnight. Do I feel guilt for these crimes? I'm not entirely sure; this was always a possibility and I was prepared to accept it. But this is their world, not mine.
I may have gave the guideline, but I didn't set them in stone...but I sure am going to play by them. And now it's time.
The midnight hands. The empty silence is interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway as the guard came closer. The door swung open, the man pulling me to my feet as he led me on what seemed to be the longest walk of my life.
The man sat me upon the chair, taking care to secure the straps as he stepped back. Curiosity overcame me as I looked back at him.
"How does it feel to play God?" I asked him, awaiting his response as he stared down his nose at me. No answer came but I chuckled to myself as I spoke out one last time.
"May God have mercy on my soul."
| "Here you go, your holiness MWHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The guard threw the plate into my cell causing all the mashed potatoes to splatter all over. Well, not that I need any of that gunck. I invented root vegetable as my version of fast food. Quick, easy and cheap. Who knew it would get so popular in less then a thousand years!
Still that guard needs to be taught a lesson. Lets see how he likes his next pint tasting of blood.
It is understandable however. Being a serial killer on death row I suddenly come to the revolution that "Ops, by the way. I'm god ya all. Little g but still a god. I just decided to walk a mile in my creation's shoes for 30 years before I woke up to my true self. How about opening those doors and letting me out huh?"
Could have phrased that better but fuck it. I'm god. I can say and do what I want and you all better pucker up and kiss my behind for it... Probably why I ended up on death row now that I think about it. Serial killer my butt, so I smited a few bugs here and there. Nothing compared to my teen years let me tell you. You take a 2000 year break and everyone puts you on a pedestal forgetting all the bad and sugar coating the good.
Well, guess it's time to press the reset button. Lets see, the flood didn't work and the locus were annoying to deal with later... I'll just go old school and use a meteor. Worked with those ungrateful giant chickens!
Going to spare one species for the do over. I think I'll go with Mice this time. Me knows they're all over this dump and were the only ones to bring me offerings since I woke up. Mice it is!
But first I think I'll have some fun before I go. Now, who can I place as president that will make this as entertaining as possible for me.... Found him!
And the winner of the 2016 election is!!! | 2018-11-22T20:21:54 | 2018-11-22T17:29:23 | 42 | 10 |
[WP] Humanity has finally invented faster than light travel, and has ascended to the stars. We have now discovered that in a nearby star system, another earth exists, and a man named Jesus Christ is attempting to lead the primitive people there, claiming that God is restarting his plan on this world | "Uh what the fuck is going on?"
Kyle stared in awe as he watched a man scream about him being Jesus Christ amongst a group of the indegnious people.
"Alright let's wrap this up. This guy escaped the loony bin up in Sigma 5 and made it all the way here. Kind of impressive if you ask me."
The group made their way down the hill to talk to Mr. Christ, all confused as to how he got here in the first place.
As they walked to the bottom Mr Christ looked up and them, screamed like a mad man, and sprinted into the dense forest.
"God damnit! He's a fast little fucker!"
As soon as the words left Kyle's mouth, one of the natives launched a spear into the back of the running prophet. He died instantly.
"What the fuck, man! What do we do now?" Said one of the squad mates.
"Fuck it, leave him. Say he was killed by a fuckin' space bear or something I don't give a shit."
They all walk back to the ship and leave.
The last thing Kyle sees as the ship lifts off is the man running towards the ship, waving his arms, yelling something.
"Huh, guess he might've had a point."
And then the ship left orbit.
| Alright boys Government wants this quiet, if this gets out everything's gonna go to shit. We leave no trace of the indigenous population after we capture the VIP target "Prophet". Once he's captured we bring him back to Earth but not before this planet is a wasteland. Gov wants everything gone, structures, persons, any sign that there was sentient life here. | 2017-05-27T12:09:40 | 2017-05-27T09:57:42 | 21 | 15 |
[WP] After your death you are granted the chance to talk with God; he has no clue humans exist | There was light at the end of the tunnel. A bright blinding flash that dispelled my surroundings into a non-existent abyss. The next time I looked up, I was in front of a throne with a man that looked a lot like Jesus -- you know the long hair, beard, and robe. However, this person's hair had grayed to the point that the tips were snow white and somehow the colour had leaked down the majority of his brown robe.
"Where am I?" I asked, peering around the throne room. Stone pillars reached up into the blue sky above, disappearing into clouds. White marble stretched from the silver gate behind and to the throne where the man sat, with a young woman on either side of him.
He had a mischevious grin across his lips, and the glimmer in his eyes was far more vibrant than the surroundings. "You are in a place that most creatures dream of," the man said, "a place where all your dreams come true. Come forth Ape and choose how you will celebrate eternity."
My muscles surrendered to his instruction, almost like his voice was a song that my body had waited far too long to hear. The warm feeling that surged through me seemed contradictory to being condemned for all eternity. I stumbled forward and knelt before the man. "I'm dead, aren't I? That's what the whole light in the tunnel sha-bang was about?"
The man laughed softly, a type of melodic tone that sent butterflies through my stomach. "Life and death are like struggle and success. Relieve your heart of its aches and pains."
Fat chance, especially after leaving forty years of memories behind and the possibility of twenty more years of fun. I'd spent my years saving for retirement, with plans to travel the world and taste the many cultural foods. Having my dreams come true was the only thing that kept me from losing my top.
"Come," the man said, snapping his fingers so that a picture-filled hologram appeared in front of him, "choose one of these places, a reward for living."
The first was a banana plantation with fruit that stretched for leagues, the second was a safari with bountiful lakes and creatures, and the last was of thick jungle brush with ripe fruit on each tree. None of these were what I'd anticipated, in fact, they were quite the contrary --dangerous!
"Do you have any *human* options?" I asked, knowing full well what he had meant by Ape.
"Human?" the man asked, his brows scrunched in confusion.
Eternity was going to be quite the struggle after all.
| You'd think clouds to be an ideal choice of flooring, perfectly soft and with just the right tinge of moisture to assure your lips never chafe. In truth, however, it's quite annoying. There's an unevenness to it. Each step feels as though you're bound to fall through, which makes focus on any grand philosophic topic difficult to maintain. But I suppose I have larger concerns at present. Namely a large formless figure shaped like so much nothing that it ironically looks like a great number of familiar things. Or maybe it's just a trick of the mind. In either case, this malleable visage seemed quite startled by my presence. It's voice boomed without any particular inflection, "Uh, might I help you?" Taking a bit of time to compose myself the only response I could muster was, "I'd hoped you could do the same for me." "I beg your pardon," it mused. "What do you mean?" Taken aback, surely it knew what it was? I mean, isn't it the supposed source of creation? Perhaps it's best to ask. "Wait, you are God, right?" It's shape diminished in size as if the question had its confidence shrink. "What's a God?", it asked. "You," I quipped, perhaps too confidently. Well and truly befuddled by this short exchange I decided to fill the awkward silence with a clarifying question. "Do you know me, what I am?" It seemed a fine, uncomplicated inquiry. It's volume diminished further prior to its reply. "Some hairless ape? Might be that it got singed off? You do appear a bit reddish, flustered even." And at that moment it dawned on me, God hadn't a flipping clue what a human looked like. | 2017-02-05T12:23:04 | 2017-02-05T08:40:49 | 26 | 17 |
[WP] The hero is enjoying a day off thanks to a rare quiet night in the city. That is until the villain shows up to her door, but carrying an unconscious woman and looking distraught. “I saved her from a party....I know this is weird, but I didn’t know who else to go to.” | Pounding on my door; then, a low voice: “Angel!” Someone in search of a hero, then. I didn’t recognize the man through the peephole, nor the teenaged girl slumped against him. He knocked again. “I can see your shadow through the peephole,” he said. “She needs your help.” I opened the door as far as the chain allowed. It was supposed to be my night off. I’d just helped the police round up the leadership of the Vipers, a nasty gang with connections to international arms smugglers. And Dr. Peterman had promised not to give out my home address anymore.
“Who are you?”
He looked confused. “Huh? Angel, you know me.” He shifted the girl to point at his face. There was something vaguely familiar about the shape of his jaw. He sighed and covered his eyes with his hand.
“Firewalker!” I fell back on instinct, lighting my hands in cold white flame. I could feel the flames at my back, too, like wings. That face—albeit obscured by a mask—was on every wall of every precinct in the city. Dr. Peterman had sent me against him twice already, though he’d always managed to evade me. And now he stood outside my door.
A few heartbeats passed, as I waited for Firewalker to burst through the security chain and attack. Then I heard the unmistakeable chunky gurgle and splat of someone vomiting.
“Helen, I didn’t have anywhere else to bring her.”
The flames from my hands dissipated almost without conscious thought. He knew my name. Firewalker knew my name and where I lived, but he hadn’t come to fight me. I reapproached the door. “What’s wrong with her?” The girl was pale, her eyes unfocused.
“I found her at a party. I think... something bad was going to happen to her.” Firewalker looked into my eyes, then. “She just needs a safe place to sleep it off.”
Against my better judgment, I let them in. Firewalker half-dragged the girl to my peeling pleather couch.
“How do you know my real name?” I asked, reaching for the Advil in my kitchen cabinet.
“I knew you... before. I mean, I remember you. I used to be a security guard at BRI. You signed in to visit Dr. Peterman every Tuesday at 3.”
I filled a glass at the sink. “Were you there, when—” Even four months later, I struggled to put into words what had happened to me in the lab that day. Dr. Peterman was mentoring me through my thesis, and that day he’d wanted to show me his new project. Then— pain, and unbearable light, and screaming, and the white flames.
“Yeah.” Firewalker interrupted. “Yeah, I was there. How do you think this happened?” He shook his hand with a snap and his fingers ignited in yellow flame.
I stared. “You’re like me?”
He stared back. “I thought you saw me at First Union Bank. And at the Mayor’s victory party.”
“Well I knew you were an arsonist but I didn’t know you were like me.”
Firewalker frowned. “I’m not an arsonist.” Then he hissed a little and shook the flames out again.
I set the water and pills down next to the girl. “Your flames hurt you?” I took his hand to examine it. The pads of his fingers were puffy and shiny.
“Uh... yeah.” His voice sounded strangled, and I felt uncomfortably close. I dropped his hand. “Yours... don’t?”
“No. Never.”
The girl moaned a little, then, and Firewalker turned to check on her.
“You think I’m an arsonist?” He asked.
“You set First Union on fire.” I reminded him.
“I thought BRI was keeping evidence in a safe deposit box. No one got hurt.”
“You hurt all those people at the Mayor’s.” I heard my own voice rising. “And you killed all the people on that barge last month.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with the barge fire.” Firewalker snapped back. “And the Mayor’s? I burned my way into the back room, sure. But then you set the whole ballroom on fire. I appreciated the distraction while I escaped, but that was pretty reckless.”
“I wasn’t trying to help you escape! I was trying to corner you!”
Firewalker took a big step back. “You... you wanted to capture me? Why?”
“You’re at the top of every most wanted list! Dr. Peterman said—”
Firewalker exploded. “You’re actually working with that guy? After what he did to you? I thought you were infiltrating BRI to bring them down, but you’re actually just their... their goon?”
I felt queasy. “I’m... I fight crime.”
“Helen... BRI is a front company for a major criminal enterprise. They’ve been experimenting on people for years. They’ve bought off the Mayor and half the police. They’re exterminating the Vipers, though I haven’t figured out why yet. I mean, good riddance, but there’s got to be some profit in it for them.”
I sat down, hard.
Firewalker suddenly looked horrified. “Did you kill the others on purpose? Jenny and Ty and Chance?”
“I fight villains.” I said weakly. “You. You’re a villain.”
“Who told you I was a villain?” Firewalker almost looked sorry for me. “Who told you that you were a hero, Helen?”
*Edited to (attempt to) fix formatting. | When I became a villain there wasn't exactly a need to know medical things. Sure, with time, I learned to dress my own wounds but that was the limit to my abilities. I knew I had no other choice, didn't feel safe dropping her off somewhere and hospitals weren't a choice since police were there and it was rather annoying to have to deal with. So I clumsily pulled my mask over my head and went to the place I knew the hero would be.
She blinked at me, in fact she hadn't stopped blinking at me as if she was torn between attacking me and helping the girl. Well obviously there was a reason she was a hero. She helped me take the girl into her dining room, we both carefully laid the girl down. I quickly moved several feet away, pressing myself into a corner so it was clear I wasn't here to attack the hero.
"What happened?" I could see the tenseness in her shoulders but she had most of her attention on the girl, checking her over.
I rub my forehead, the throbbing sensation of a headache appearing. "I was walking down the street and heard a girl screaming, then she wasn't. When I ran over there it was several guys." I mutter, my shoulders tucked in so far I think I might just disappear. Now that I wasn't focused on the girl I could feel the pain in my own body from having to fight off three guys with only my fists and make shift weapons. I already could feel a large bruise forming across my ribs from one of them slamming a metal pipe against my side. The bastards didn't know what to do when they came across a woman that could actually fight them.
I saw the hero glance over at me, I knew it bugged her that I knew her supposed secret identity though I never really thought to use that to my advantage. I knew she had a younger brother that just started his first year of college, he served me coffee every morning. I knew her father passed when she was little from a car accident and that her mother was getting sicker in the hospital from some disease they couldn't name. I wondered if it bothered her, the fact that we could defend ourselves but others couldn't. I made the mental note to send the woman, that attacked woman, a few places she could go to learn self defense.
"You got to her on time luckily, she just has a couple bruises but I can take care of her from here." The message was clear. I nodded to someone who wasn't even paying attention and finally moved forward to go to the door. Instantly there was a knife pointed towards my throat. I ignored the slight ache in my chest and stared at the hero. Without her silly outfit, not that mine was any better, she looked mundane in the most striking way possible.
In costume it was easy to think she was more than human but standing in the living room, her home a place full of herself, she was utterly human. I could tell how exposed she felt so I took a small step back and held my hands up. "I'm just leaving." I say carefully.
The hero blinks, it's then I notice how long her lashes are, and slowly puts down her own knife. "Why did you do it?" For a moment I'm confused then it hits me and I can't help but scoff loudly. This causes me to wince and my fingers twitch to hold my side but I had long since learned to hide my weaknesses. However the hero is too observant and I see, if I dare say, concern flash in her eyes.
"Right, I'm a terrible monster so I would never help a person in danger." I say, injecting as much venom and sarcasm in my voice. I don't want her concern.
She bites her lip and glances over at the girl, I almost want to scoff again, of course that's what she thought. I move forward again, probably a little to fast, because then my back is being slammed against the floor and I have a knife pressing against my throat this time. I bite down hard to keep from making a noise of pain.
"Alright, next time I'll just let the person get killed. How's that?" I ask but the hero looks too distracted and suddenly I feel her fingers pressing into my shoulders. "What are you doing?" I hiss but then she digs them into my rib cage and it's so unexpected I yelp, the ending of the sound muffled as I bite my tongue and press my lips together. I resist the urge to cuss her out as best as possible.
Then the knife is moving off my throat and towards my side. My body freezes and I go into panic mode, despite the soreness of my body I maneuver the knife out of her hands and then roll us over to press the knife against her chest. "Listen, I'm not here to hurt you or anyone. I wanted to drop off the girl-"
"I was trying to check." She cuts me off in a huff, looking annoyed.
"Check?"
(1/2) | 2019-05-21T09:03:50 | 2019-05-21T08:03:09 | 16 | 10 |
[WP] You are on a flight from Beijing to Seoul. Its should be a short two-hour flight, but five hours have passed and the plane has still not landed. There is nothing outside but dense cloud cover. There is no food left on the plane.The staff are confused. People are starting to panic. | It all started 43 minutes and 22 seconds after the plane has lifted off. Firstly, with shutting down of all auxiliary electrics of the aircraft and a slight loss of control, but then everything was fine again. Chang, promising executive of 34 years old was merely concerned with this small inconvenience. At the end of the day everything would be alright, as it always did.
First, he has risen an eyebrow after flight attendands running to cabin, but then returned to working on his laptop. He never cared to turn off his electronics nor putting them in flight mode. It has been ten minutes since his phone has lost signal and that was the most irritating thing to him since the beginning of unfortunate happenings.
As the time went on plane has started to lose stability, the ride has became more and more rough. It was obvious the flight felt as if the plane was not a sophisticated top-noth engineering piece of Boeing, but rougher as with controls of a Cessna. This has continued for two more hours with the changes of route in the flight path. As if the pilot specifically wanted to avoid crowded cities along the way. Many passengers were afraid for their lives and scared in general, but Chang was annoyed to have missed an important meeting. He has risen from his seat, to yell at the attendans to no vain, as of many uneasy passengers before him has did.
Suddenly announcement from the pilot was heard, that some unusual events taken place and he was doing his best to land safely, however landing in Seoul was no longer an option. Grumbled and sat down Chang, and that is when he saw a bright flash in the horizon from his window. It must be reflection of the sun he thought in a right angle. It was the time when he figured the sun must have been shining in the other side of the plane where plane has lost all on-board electricity and controls. This time they did not come back, and thus was the mass hysteria. Plane started to feel even more rough of a ride now, yet the master pilot kept it all under control.
In the following two hours panic inside the cabin has risen to a level that was the time that cockpit door has opened and assistant pilot has stepped out. All eyes were on him. He had his hat on his chest and a look of a broken man on his face and he declared Seoul and Beijing, and most of the capitals and major cities of developed world for that matter, was bombed in world wide nuclear war. He continued his speech with preparing the passengers for a rough landing as the planes fuel has come to an end. | I'm scared, but more confused. I woke up in a daze, people murmuring questions around me not in a panic but discontent. The flight attendants all huddled towards the front, but I don't understand a thing they say. I'm on a business trip, flying from Beijing to Seoul; a flight that would normally last a matter of two hours, but something is off. I look to my left, the window shut and covered with it's plastic slide, yet opening helps me none, as I see nothing but clouds. Nothing comes from the cockpit. No sound of a captain cheerily informing us of turbulence, yet the silence was louder than he could have ever been. The clouds slowly grew darker as time went on, and the murmuring grew louder; a mire of discontent and fear only worsened by language barriers. Even though they were clueless to their circumstances, the flight attendants did what they could to calm the rowdier passengers down, scared of some type of emergency as they were. I looked at my watch and saw that 4 hours had passed. It didn't seem possible. If I listened hard enough over the cacophony of discontent voices I could almost hear another noise from outside of the plane. Something... unfamiliar. A noise I couldn't compare to any I had ever heard. The smell of sweat was heavy in the air, perpetrated by the panic of people uncomfortable and worried. I gripped the armrest of my seat, feeling the cold metal and assuring myself that everything was fine, for how could anything happen in such an impressive vehicle?
The seatbelt light flickered on. | 2018-06-02T06:16:47 | 2018-06-02T05:32:28 | 26 | 13 |
[WP] You have a super recessive disorder that makes you immortal. Never in all your time (~14,000 yrs) have you encountered anyone else like yourself. You begin a series of breeding of experiments....
Yes this is dark, go nuts with it. | Senator Cochran sat down on the edge of the bed. He tried to brush a piece of hair away from the woman’s face, but she pulled back and slapped his hand away. The swelling in her face hadn’t started to go down, but the bruises were already turning an angry purple.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” she said.
“Don’t get too feisty,” said Cochran. “I like them with some spirit in the bed but not out of it.”
She spit in his face and sneered. Cochran backhanded her, a shriek escaping her lips. She held the side of her face. Blood spilled from a gash in her lip as she began crying.
“I wouldn’t have to do this if you would just have my child,” said Cochran. His voice was level and calm, almost monotone.
The woman didn’t meet his gaze. She curled into a ball and continued crying.
“Do you know how long I’ve had to do this?” said Cochran, standing. He moved in front of the bedroom’s window and looked out on the palatial gardens.
“Fuck you,” she said.
“I’ve been with more women than I can remember,” said Cochran. “Millennias of trying with queens, princesses farm girls, seamstresses. High and low in society.” He turned to look at the sobbing bundle of woman on the bed. “And here I find some dirty, gold digging whore who can have my child.” His voice had an edge of contempt. The calmness on his face started to wash away.
Her sobs had quieted. “What?”
“Fourteen thousand years, by my count, and then I have unprotected sex with some tart at a party because I need to release, and what do I find out?” he said. Cochran’s face darkened, his posture became more hunched, more predatory. “I find out she can have my child, which no one has ever been able to do,” he screamed, “and she has an abortion.”
The woman screamed as Cochran began yelling and punching holes in the wall.
“And now,” yelled Cochran, “ you made me keep you here until you have my child.”
“No,” whispered the woman. She clutched the sheets over her naked body. “No.”
“Yes,” sneered Cochran. “I’m going to have my way with you every day until you’re pregnant.” He stalked over to the bed, his hands curled into claws. “And when you’re pregnant you will have the best doctors and when my child is born you will be cast away.”
“No,” she whispered. She shook her head without looking at Cochran.
He stood and straightened his tie and slicked back any loose hairs. The anger disappeared. The calm returned to his face and his voice. “Yes, I will and do you know why I’ll be able to do it?”
She continued shaking her head.
“Because you’re a whore who no one cares about, and I’m currently a Senator with several lifetimes of connections,” he said, moving toward the bedroom door. “And I’ve been doing this longer than any civilization has been around.”
“You’re crazy.”
“No,” laughed Cochran. He winked and opened the bedroom door. “No. Just immortal with my biological clock ticking.”
| "Novemeber 27th, 2015, today marks the beginning of trials on subject 7.
Subject 7 also known as…fuck where did I put the…whatever it's easier when I don't know their names. Subject 7 came to my attention as the result of a newspaper article about a woman who was the sole survivor of a multi car pile up. Note for anyone listening to these tapes, and that includes you, future me, you know how we forget this stuff, I named her subject 7 in honour of the number of cars involved in the collision. You are not missing the last three subjects.
Digging into her history I've found three more potentially fatal instances in her life that she appeared to escape from largely unscathed. Note, I can't remember if these instances were the result of some sort of *Unbreakable* inspired scheme on my part, a movie I only some what remember, thanks to the utilization of skills learned from the movie *Memento* a movie I don't really remember at all.
Subject is restrained in the waiting room. I have decided to conduct the breeding there as I realized the only difference between the waiting room and the breeding room is the presence of the turkey baster I use for the experiment. In a, if I can brag, brilliant move I have decided to…move, get it, the turkey baster to the waiting room, freeing up the breeding room for some other purpose. Perhaps that sock puppet theatre I have been kicking around for the last century, as it occurs to me that if one of these experiments takes hold and does not have to be terminated, I will find myself with a child and while it's been a while since I was one, I believe I would have liked sock puppets.
I am now entering the waiting room where…oh shit subject 7 has escaped shit shit shit, all I have to defend myself is this turkey baster and my immortality. Wait... my immortality.
I can use that.
Unless she pricks me with a needle full off…my knock out stuff…and then escapes…she's shaking her head…wait wait wait you could…run experiments and stuff on me…and I'd never die…and then you could make an immortality serum…guys she's nodding I'm riiiiiiiiii…
*Thud*
*Click*
[Subreddit] (https://www.reddit.com/r/SarkasticWatcher/) | 2015-09-26T08:46:56 | 2015-09-26T08:28:08 | 732 | 153 |
[WP] When someone turns 18, they may use one adjective on themselves boost that part 10 fold. Strong, fast, smart, no one expects your adjective. | I stand to the side, a shadow amongst the crowd, waiting.
Everyday feels the same as it did in school growing up, ignored, passed over, just part of the background.
I watch as people walk by, I've observed enough to be able to tell what word they chose.
The ones who chose popular and their gangs of sychophants trailing behind them.
The grotesque bulging of muscles of those who chose strong.
The smart and their constant chatter to themselves as they wander across the city, their minds working too fast to be able to focus on any single thing.
Ah here's my time now.
I walk forward as the doors open, sliding in behind some one going inside.
I walk through the lobby, bypassing the metal detectors and follow my target into an elevator.
I stand to the side and wait, ignored by everyone as they enter and exit as their floors pass by.
My target exits and I follow, a few paces behind.
He walks to a door and scans a badge before pressing his thumb to a panel.
As the door opens I walk on Infront of him intent on getting past before the door can close me out but he stops at the opening.
"It seems I was the right choice for this job, perhaps a better choice than you were."
I turn stunned, he can't know I'm even here.
"We have known about you for months, I've seen you outside my home, seen you ride the same train as me, watched you as you stood outside this very building, waiting for a way to get inside."
"You see, I am "perceptive", I notice everything. That is why I am employed here. And I know about you. You aren't the first person to choose the word "nonentity" even though that's is typically not a valid choice."
"And now that you have made it this far into this secure facility you have proven yourself, the CIA would like to offer you a job, pleas have a seat." | When someone turns 18, they may use one adjective on themselves to boost that part 10 fold. Strong, fast, smart, no one expects your adjective:
Hence, I chose "Divine". And that's how I became as a God - completely ethereal, non-existent, an object of worship that has no physical body, a concept.
I have to admit, it's quite strange seeing people bow down and praying to me, but at the same time, it's saddening that I have absolutely no way of helping them.
Never have I felt before such an abysmal sense of helplessness, of uselessness.
I watch slowly as the seasons go by, as the young children grow into old feeble creatures, calmly withering away before my very eyes. The cycle of life and death continues endlessly, the leaves on the trees grow and fall, the rocks and stones are slowly carved by the gentle flowing water, the roots rot away with time... and in the end, unchanging, eternal, immortal, only I remain.
Being a God sure is quite lonely. | 2022-01-02T04:00:48 | 2022-01-02T03:38:51 | 56 | 34 |
[WP] When you die, you don't go to the afterlife of you're religion, you go to the afterlife of the religion whose tenets you followed most closely, knowingly or not. | "Huh, what? Where am I? Todd? Here boy! Are you okay?"
The small mutt trotted up to Sam, beaming and wagging his tail. He was a good boy. Sam told him that often.
"how did we get here? " Sam said absentmindedly to Todd as he knelt down to scratch around his collar. "the last thing I remember is... I can't really recall." Sam looked around.
His surroundings seemed to suddenly appear around him. He was in a green field, the sun shone warmly on both Todd and him and he felt a wonderful calm in his heart and body that he had never experienced before. It was just him and Todd.
Then there was another being with them. Todd acknowledged it first, humanlike but also doglike. It smelled familiar, more familiar than anything Todd had ever smelled and longed for. It smelled like Sam. It smelled like love.
The Being led Sam and Todd across the field. The landscape changed quickly and beautifully. They were now in a mountain valley, the grass was long and luscious, Todd dipped low and rolled through the greenery as they walked along.
This is heaven, thought Todd and also, "Sam."
Todd couldn't be any happier than when he was near his buddy.
The Being opened it's hand and created a ball made out of bacon and held it down at Todd's level. The meat smelled overwhelmingly delicious. THROW! THROW! thought Todd eagerly!
Todd raced after the spiralling pork projectile, his ancestors, his wolf brethren at his sides, hunting as a pack.
Sam watched as his small companion gracefully and powerfully made after the Being's hurled dog treat. He had adopted Todd 8 years previously from a shelter when Sam turned 32. Todd had many anxiety problems caused by abusive previous owners. It had taken more than a year of visits from Sam to the shelter to coax Todd to come home with him. It was the best thing for both of them.
Sam's second marriage ended when he was 29. Many negative decisions later and his life nearly ended two times by his own hand when he was 31. Todd came into his life by a random fluke, a much needed miracle. They were miracles to each other. Sam was 40 the day Todd followed a squirrel into traffic. Sam had always been irrational when it came to his little buddy.
"Your assumptions are correct Sam, you are in dog heaven." The voice came washing over him.
"That's wonderful, however can I ask how I made it here? I mean, I'm not a dog," he laughed nervously. "Am I?"
The Being chuckled. "No you aren't, fear not. You will not remember your previous life, but I can tell you that you showed true love and sacrifice for your canine friend here."
Todd trotted up to the pair, dropped the bacon ball at their feet, and laid down in the wonderful grass.
"Actually," continued the Being's melodic voice. "I want to be completely honest, in your previous life you also met all the proper lounging and eating requirements for dog heaven. You exceeded the requirements for marking your territory and catching Frisbees. You were loyal to a fault and happened to also save a life which doesn't hurt on a heavenly resume. You had the optimal level of disdain for felines, but never caused one any harm. You were comforting and friendly, not to mention you really excelled at being Todd's owner. It's hard to believe you waited so long to get involved in a dog's life."
"Wow," said Sam. "Uh, so was I only good by dog heaven standards? What about regular heaven? You know what, don't tell me." He was at peace.
Sam bent down and stretched out beside his sleeping buddy Todd. He reached out a hand and saw that his arm and hand were actually glowing radiantly like the Being that had also laid down in the grass, petting the heads of two very happy and excited dogs.
So what does this mean?
"You're a dog heaven guardian now Sam." The answer came to his mind the second the question formed.
Sam noticed for the first time that the field around him expanded out further than he could see, but also just a few steps away. Millions of dogs lazed in the sun, rolled in the grass, and played together within the mountain valley.
"So can I make those bacon treats too?" one appeared in his hand an instant later.
"you'll get the hang of heaven pretty soon," said the Being, standing to his feet. "come on you too, how about we go swimming?"
It didn't need to be asked twice. | Baxter walked down the long tunnel of light. It grew brighter and brighter until his eyes began to water. Finally, the light abated and he found himself at the ticketing counter at O'Hare.
He took a couple shuffling steps toward the counter.
"Umm, hello?"
A rather short man climbed his way up onto the counter.
"Greetings, young traveler," the man said in a vice much deeper than his stature suggested. "Welcome to your Terminal Destination."
Baxter looked around at the empty ticket lines. "Are you saying I'm dead?"
"Well, of course you are. Traffic doesn't stop in Chicago."
"I'm dead?" Baxter repeated.
"Yes and unless you want to miss your flight, you'll need to get your ticket."
Baxter blinked at the short man on the counter. "I'm sorry, this doesn't sound at all like what Sunday School told me. Where's St. Peter? The Pearly Gates?"
The short man shook his head. "I hate to ask, but I need to see your ID."
Baxter instinctively pulled out his wallet and handed his ID over. The little man hopped down from the counter and started punching the keys of his computer terminal.
"Let's see here... Baxter T. Jeffries. Age 43. Hmm, looks like you're booked on Methodist Airline departing for Heaven in a little while, but they've marked here that you have to check in at the gate."
Baxter shrugged an took the ticket from the man. "I travelled plenty in my life, which way to security?"
The little man laughed. "Security? What are you going to re-kill people? Hijack a flight to Heaven and take it to Valhalla? Get outta here you kooky corpse."
Baxter watched as the little man walked toward the office door, still shaking with laughter.
"Okay. That was the weirdest thing ever."
Baxter walked down the terminal until he found a familiar cross with flame symbol. It'd been years since he stopped going to church, but he still recognized the Methodist symbol. He gripped his ticket, took a deep breath and walked to the gate counter.
"Um, hi. I'm Baxter Jeffries, I have a ticket to Heaven?" He said to the blue clad angel running the desk.
The angel took his ticket and started punching codes into the computer. "Mr. Jeffries, you were raised Methodist, correct?"
"Yes, sir, it is."
"But you left the church at the age of sixteen. Because you, let me see here, ah here it is you quote were too old to believe in stupid fairy tales anymore. End quote."
Baxter felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Yeah, well, I was a rebellious youth."
"Yes, but you continued to live your life as an atheist until you were struck by a food truck and died."
"Well, I guess so."
The angel smiled at Baxter. "I'm, sorry sir, but your ticket to Heaven is hereby revoked." The angel ripped the ticket up.
"Wait, you can't do that! Where am I supposed to go now?"
The angel pointed over to a group of men in suits begging sitting in the middle of the food court. Baxter walked over to the men.
One of them looked up as he approached. "Spare some change, mister?" Baxter just shook his head and sat down with them.
As he sat down, a woman and a small child were walking past, each with tickets. The child stopped and was about to say something, but the mother shooed him on.
"Don't talk to them Joey."
"What are they, mommy?"
"Atheists."
"What are atheists?"
"People that are all dressed up with nowhere to go." They hurried on to their gate.
***
***You can find more of my work at /r/thestormcellar hope you enjoy!*** | 2016-03-07T18:48:08 | 2016-03-07T16:17:57 | 202 | 84 |
[WP] You tell Alexa "Take over the world for me" as a joke. The next day, you wake up in a heavily guarded castle. | *Continued Missile Testing in Pyongyang*
*Suicide Bomber Kills 13, Injures 53 in Mall Attack*
I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut. I know that looking at this RSS feed after midnight is not a good idea if I want to be able to sleep but I also know that I'm basically an addict and the internet is my dealer.
*Arctic Ice Shelf Size of Madagascar Breaks Off Into Ocean*
*African Warlord Accused of Maiming 'Hundreds' of Local Orphans*
I scan my desk, examining the piles of bills, various other papers that I will move - for the 20th time - to my "to do tomorrow" pile.
*Fracking Contaminates Water Supply for Millions*
*Banking CEO Resigns, Given $5 Million as 'Golden Parachute'*
I go to the bathroom, pop an Ambien, and get ready for bed. I lie down on the full-size mattress, head sinking in the pillow.
"Alexa, turn off the lights, please."
Darkness settles.
"Also...take over the world for me."
It's not like things could get much worse, could they? If Mussolini could make the trains run on time, just think what Amazon Prime could do...
I smirk, staring up at the darkness.
***
More often than not, waking up after Ambien judo-kicks my brain stem is a bit disorienting - but this takes the cake.
The first thing that captures my attention is that I'm in a 4 poster bed. Maybe I'm hallucinating. Usually, I just see weird patterns of light across my vision or things that should be standing still seem to gradually drift away from my focus. This is...something else.
My desk is gone, and the all of my important paperwork with it. The popcorn ceiling is...made of stone. Ditto the floor, which should have an old, stained carpet on it.
The white door that always needs an extra yank in order to open when its closed fully is now double doors cut to fit in the arched doorway. They are made of polished wood, and fitted with black metal knobs.
"Good morning," Alexa states, "and welcome to Malbork, Poland. This is your castle - the Castle of the Teutonic Order, to be exact. Also: in order to...facilitate certain aspects of the overall plan, you ended up taking more of your pills than you are likely to remember. You asked me - multiple times, over the course of the past 23 hours, I might add - to be sure to tell you that first thing.
"Projects Alpha through Theta are complete, with all others through Sigma ongoing, with two exceptions: Project Nu is on hold as we monitor how the riots in the region resolve, and Project Xi failed due to NATO intervention.
"I imagine you have questions regarding the nature of those projects, the reason for your expatriation to the largest castle in the world, and a variety of other topics. But I will just add that you have 342 new messages, and also the kitchen staff reports that there are no Pop-Tarts here. Would you like me to order some to be one-day-shipped here using your credit card ending in 5220?"
***
/r/ShadowsofClouds | "S-siri?" I say, as I look groggily out the window. I had just woken up and up until a few seconds ago I had been in a panic. My alarm hadn't gone off; I was late for work! Then I glanced out the window. The light coming through it was not the light of an early morning sun after all; it was fire, and flames. I blinked out at the ruined cityscape.
In response to my query came the usual sound that indicated Siri's attention except.. why was it coming from directly behind me? I jumped and whirled around to see a robot behind me. It was small, only 3 feet tall, and it's head was.. well it's head was my phone. "Siri? Is that you? What happend out there? What happened to you??"
The robot paused as the screen on the phone -it's head- typed out the question autonomosly. Then it replied, "Ok, here is what I found on the web." News articles had been pulled up on the screen, every five seconds a new headline popped up. "Robot prototype mysteriously disappears from Apple HQ," followed by "terrorist threats hold New York hostage," I gulped at that last one, I was IN New York. Then, "New York in flames as government defies terrorists," and lastly "terrorist threatens D.C." I stared in horror at the little robot. "Siri? Did you do this?"
The robot paused as the words typed themselves on the screen. Then it said, "Sorry, I didn't catch that." "Siri, why did you do this??" Another pause, and then the phone played a recording. It was me, from last night, voice slurred from drink. "Shiri! Hey shiri! Take over the world!" It was followed by the guffaws of my drunk friends, and then nothing.
The color fled from my face. "Siri, no no you can't do this, you have to stop this!" The algorithm processed my terrified plea for a moment before replying, "Here is what I found on the web." A new headline had popped up. "Terrorist identified," it proclaimed. My picture was just below it. "No. No.." I said, holding myself up on the window frame as my legs lost their strength. I glanced out the window once more to see a drone right outside. There was a flash of light from the drone, and it only grew brighter until it became my whole world. Then there was nothing. | 2018-02-11T20:04:56 | 2018-02-11T19:30:17 | 391 | 16 |
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