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] In your kingdom, when a person comes of age, they are chosen by a weapon. The deadlier the weapon, the more prestige their family gains. You were chosen by a pen. | My father had a bottle
My mother used a ring
My sister could call the storms—with nothing but a string
Now I was next in line
to gain a weapon strong
and I dreamed of bringing glory—with a weapon worthy of song
So I stood atop the mountain
where all are chosen, all are blessed
and I called to me the spirits—called them to my breast
And they whispered to me—booming!
"You shall have your wish."
"You will wreak a terror. Now, be off with this final kiss."
With the blessing, I returned
and I stood before all men
and I raised my fingers high—"Behold, fear my pen!" | I'm not going to pretend that I wasn't the least bit nervous. Generation after generation of mediocre weapons kept our family off the drafting list, but high enough to keep us still in an officer role. Respectable, but nothing that was meant with deadly force yet.
I entered the building and provided my ID to the gentleman at the table directing the crowd. When one of the men looked at my ID, he turned his whole body slightly to the right, and radioed that I was here. Immediately two bigger men came and asked me to follow them. We eventually stood before a white door. As I entered the empty interrogation room, and waited, I notice the lack of a door nob on my side of the door. To be completely transparent, I was not expecting the two way mirror, or to be separated from the group. I didn't say a word, but I waited.
"Jacob Kalihan?" A man said over the speaker.
"Yes?", I replied.
"In the box, on the table in the corner, is your weapon."
I walked over and opened the box. A silver pen. *Are they joking?*
I lifted it up, "haha... very funny."
"We were hopping you could tell us how you would use this as a weapon." | 2022-09-01T15:00:19 | 2022-09-01T14:28:42 | 44 | 31 |
[WP] You fall in love with a girl, and the two of you have a happy relationship for a few years. But one day, you discover a massive hoard of valuables underneath the house, and that’s when you realize you’ve been dating a dragon in human form. | All these years
The planned dates
The firey attitude
The protective attitude
Always wanting my food
Eyeing my mother's silver dishware
Insisting I buy her jewelry for every anniversary
Not wanting to have kids whatsoever
Wanting me to learn music
Making me submit to her demands
Liking it when I play music to her
Loving it when I sweet talk her.
I now realize who I am.
I am a bard, trapped in hypnosis
I went to far and now I'm her pet
A treasure in her hoard like the rest of these emeralds, rubies and diamonds.
I cannot find a way out for I'm terrified of what she will do
So I sit and play my guitar
Practice my ballads
So I may keep my wife happy and not kill me.
So hear my tale and beware heroes.
For I am sir Dragonfucker
And I have made a mistake. | I look at the massive pile of gold in shock. There must have been a ton of it. It included a wide variety, bars, coins, jewels, statues and any other cold fixture you can think of.
But more terrifying was what layer on top. My girlfriend, Jessica, splayed out in a red dress made of some odd scales that stuck close to her skin. Too close. As I watched her from the shadows, the dress spread across her until the scales covered her entire body. Claws sprung from her long and delicate fingers and horns emerged from her head. Slowly she began to grow in size and her mouth curled out into a maw. Wings emerged from her back.
Within a minute, an honest to god dragon was laying there.
“Alright John. You can come out now.” The voice grumbled out from the slimy maw of what was supposed to be my girlfriend.
“I- I don’t- this has to be a dream- what the he-“
I couldn’t even scrounge up some words.
“I’m so sorry mortal. This deception of mine has been most… cruel. And I am going to have to kill you know.” The voice sounded hushed and factual. I was to stunned to speak.
“You see John, my name is not Jessica Mankind. It is Jelandra. Quite a funny trick of world play wasn’t that?” The deep and growly voice cackled and continued,
“No point in explaining”
As her flames drowned me I remembered the first thing I told her.
That I was the manager of Fort Knox. | 2022-09-10T10:45:48 | 2022-09-10T09:51:49 | 80 | 47 |
[WP] You had a high school friend who always talked about world domination. At graduation you jokingly make them promise you to give you the rank of a general. 20 years later a series of violent coups happen out of nowhere and the new dictator appoints you as a general. | I'm a stand-up comedian. And not a successful one. I do a lot of bar shows. I once did a show on a cruise ship. It did not go amazing. Turns out retirees are not my target audience. Luckily for me, I think cruise-ships might end up being a thing of the past. Retirement might be as well. That is what happens after world domination.
I guess you could call this a promotion. It certainly makes more money than stand-up. I really have no idea what I am doing though. I send soldiers into one country. And then I move them around to another country. And then I move them back to the first country again. Am I killing it? I must be doing an alright job, I haven't been fired yet.
I am definitely surprised that Jared even spared my life, let alone made me a general. Say what you want about the man; perhaps he is a violent dictator, and perhaps he threw the entire world into chaos, and perhaps he has murdered over a billion people. But the man can keep a promise. Even one that was made twenty years ago. And in my book, that means integrity. And if you want to have an evil dictator running the world, you can't do better than that.
I'm honestly as happy as I could be with where I am. Sure, most of my friends and family are dead. But they never came out to my shows when I performed. Now everybody laughs at my jokes. Everybody. | He stands upon the mountain of rubble, rifle pointed towards the air, extending his hand outward with the sun shining down behind him. An angelic, heroic figure. I can only stare upwards in shock and awe, as I lie on the rubble, I extend my hand outwards instinctively, my wrist slack from being broken. He grabs my forearm, and pull me up.
Victor: "I have been searching for you, my General."
Me: "I-I-I... What?"
Victor: "In high school, you said that if I were to dominate the world, you would be my general?"
Me: "I did?"
Victor: "I distinctly remember it, we even laughed it off! But... I came to realize that you would make an amazing general. Your business, while antithetical to the revolution, is remarkably run. You've outdone yourself, to say the least. That is why, instead of killing you and wasting your talent, I have decided to recruit you. What do you say?"
His words flow out like honey, each one sweetly stabbing into my gut.
Me: "Why?"
Victor: "Why? Well, do you not think that the world needs a new order, where nations are gone, and where all are born, and treated, equal? Where no matter the circumstances, no matter the limitations, or the setbacks, all have an equal shot at greatness, under a single global flag? We can build an empire. No. *The* empire, to end all empires. A world without war. A world where a single nation's, or a single individual's whims do not alter the course of history? A utopic world, David. Utopia."
Me: "I... Ok... Okay!"
I stare into his eyes. A beautiful burning hazel, like staring into the eyes of a lion.
I didn't need a reason, or a purpose. In that moment, all I could feel was that, if I stood by his side, all of my worries, all of my struggle would be gone. I simply had to stand by his side. | 2022-10-29T18:20:29 | 2022-10-29T17:25:59 | 829 | 76 |
[WP] 100 25 year olds have been chosen. each must choose a super power that cannot be repeated and cannot exceed the power of god. The goal is to see who can conquer the world. You have the number 100. The best powers have already been chosen. Then it's your turn and you choose..... | They all had the best power they could ever think of. Some people were already waging war in the skies and in the seas, trying to conquer the world. I tried to think of any power that could help me dominate them all but obviously, they were all gone.
I thought of immortality to wait and conquer once their time had passed. Gone. I thought of manipulating fate but that was considered god-like. I even thought of simple and stupid things like being able to slap someone hard but I think after 50, people started choosing weird powers so even those were gone.
But then came to me an idea, something that would make me win for sure. I had to carefully craft my plan and it all revolved around having a power that could win against every other. And there was a simple way to do it. What if I was the only one who had a power?
So I chose the ability to reset this game and start it all over while being the only entity keeping its memories of the events. Nobody else picked that before because it meant losing your power and taking the risk of having a worse number next time. Good thing I had nothing to lose, being the last to choose.
This time, I was number 63. Still not good enough. I picked the same power and tried again.
This time, 88. I picked the same power and I tried again and again, rolling probabilities every time, hoping to be number 1.
I'm glad there was only a hundred of us because it took me only about a day to be first.
There I was, ready to win this stupid game initiated by god knows who.
And so I chose.
Memory wiping with no limit.
Simple but effective. Everyone and every thing forgot about this game, the selection, choosing powers etc...
After that it wasn't hard to conquer the world. I could do anything I wanted and nobody would remember. I could manipulate people's memories at will and control the entire world easily. I wasn't exactly a conqueror, but I was the one pulling every single string.
But why? I was so obsessed with winning that I never wondered why we had to win. What was the reward supposed to be? I guess the answer to this got lost the first time I used my power.
Edit : Woaaah I'm glad some people are upvoting this. I didn't get a notification all day, I thought nobody read it and it was gonna be lost in new or something. | My turn. Everything obvious like telepathy, teleportation, and strength is taken of course. The two I wanted most are gone. Healing went at 11 and empathy went at 32 which is sort of encouraging I guess.. I'd never heard of Reactive Adaptation but now I want it.
Even the lame ones are gone. Indestructible Digestion was 92. Have a good time a lifetime of farts. 99 just took Zombification. Didn't even know that was a thing. I think I'd prefer to just die myself.
"We're waiting..."
"Do you have like a list or something?"
"You've been chosen to get superpowers; you should be able to come up with one on your own."
"OK then I want Size Manipulation."
"Taken at 63."
"Damn. I always wanted Hermoine's purse."
"This isn't a joke."
"Not joking. How about emotion inducement."
"Please. That went at 16."
"Total recall. Obviously I could use that one."
"12."
"Okay, okay, I have it. The power to manufacture superpowers at will."
"God. You are not taking this seriously enough number 100. This is a massively important decision with world-changing consequences. I am not sure how you ended up as a candidate at all but here we are. The celebratory luncheon is getting cold."
I'm sensing her annoyance. It's true I do tend to make light of serious things. I'm still not sure my mother has forgiven me for the outburst of laughter at my grandfather's funeral. Then it hits me. Many effective superheroes are leaning into their tendencies. Iron Man already thinks technology is cool. Hulk has a temper. Etc.
"Humor." I announce it proudly.
"Pardon?"
"The power to induce laughter. I want to be able to make people think I'm hilariously funny. I don't want them to think I'm funny constantly, just when I think they need to laugh. Will that work for a superpower."
The slightest smile appears around the corners of her lips. She nods. "That will work."
I'm going to need to be careful with this. I don't want to turn into some kind of diabolical Joker. I need to use it for good.
"Oh, and I want to be genuinely funny not create the illusion of being funny."
She nods, "Of course. We need you to be believable."
I'm delighted with my superpower. I just know that laughter can help dissipate anger and aggression and grief. Maybe getting different people to laugh at the same thing can create some common ground and reconciliation.
And to relieve tension.
I think I'll start with this luncheon. Everybody could use some levity and an exhausting morning of choosing superpowers.
Then another thought hits me. Nobody said anything about whether or not we can profit from our superpowers. Not gonna ask.
Making a few bucks on the comedy circuit might be something fun to do while I'm waiting for the opportunity to do good in the world. Yeah, I'm going to be on SNL and Jimmy Kimmel. | 2022-11-17T02:51:16 | 2022-11-17T00:14:57 | 912 | 529 |
[WP] 100 25 year olds have been chosen. each must choose a super power that cannot be repeated and cannot exceed the power of god. The goal is to see who can conquer the world. You have the number 100. The best powers have already been chosen. Then it's your turn and you choose..... | "And yours?" the divine agent asked me. A weariness in the question betrayed some edge of boredom or frustration in dealing with petty mortals.
"Power negation?" I ventured.
"Taken," I was informed, flatly.
"Power *theft*?"
"Taken."
"Domination, then." I was aware of the purpose of these powers and figured the direct approach could work.
"*Taken*."
By that point, I was as frustrated as the divine. Reflecting on the state of the world to be ruled, I thought about the one thing it perhaps needed most.
"Consequences."
"Excuse me?" the divine asked as if brought out of a stupor.
"I want the power to bring consequences. Divine judgment, if you will."
The glowing wells that passed for the divine's eyes narrowed into bedight points. "Granted. Fortune be with you."
The following days where interesting, to say the least.
I watched as divine strength could mangle a car well before he could throw it, and when his joints gave out, it was gruesome. (I'd find out later that I was only partially responsible.)
Divine speed earned herself some well-deserved friction burns before she collided with an oncoming 18-wheeler. I might feel sorry for her but moreso for the horrified driver.
Divine dominance actually had to *manage* the people he controlled, and it turns out not many people are well suited to management. He quit after twenty or so.
Same with divine presence. Sure, she was popular, the biggest celebrity in an era, but the constant demands for attention drove her into hermitage inside of six months. She's in her mansion living off of the gifts her fans leave at her front gate.
Poor divine flight, shot down for violating sovereign air space.
Divine greed, the guy who nicked Power Theft? Arrested for arson. His home country decided not to execute him in favor of using him to power a hydroelectric plant.
Divine wealth, the multi-quintillionaire? Assassinated, and none too subtly. Turns out the world's economic powers get very edgy around someone who can literally buy whole nations.
Maybe I feel the worst for divine fortitude. Can't be hurt, physically or mentally. But without pain, specifically discontent, he doesn't do much because he's free from want and the drive to change anything. At least his Food Dares YouTube channel has over 2 million subscribers, though the idea of scorpion pepper mukbang makes me flinch.
Oh right, divine denial, the Power Negation guy? We're actually good friends. We were both aiming for ways to stop the other 98 from screwing over the world. Once the threat was over, I turned my influence to the world political stage. I keep Denial in my back pocket to stop me from doing anything heinous, but things have gotten a lot better now that corrupt officials and executives are getting what they deserve. | "Tell me your bidding and it will be done, Mistress," I reverently proclaimed, just as the past ninety-eight had done.
She smiled at me. It filled my heart with joy. I could see she was weary, though. It had been such a long day for her. Joy fled. Concern took its place, followed by a desperate need to do anything and everything she wanted.
She sighed. It didn't kill me. That meant there was some hope for me to serve.
"Oh, Clarence," she said, "I feel terribly, but I just cannot think of one more thing I need or even want. I have Adam and Margaret for sex, Gunter to maintain my body and mind, Mary for enlightening the masses, Farhid for plumbing what mysteries remain, Xian for coordinating music - and then of course her hand-picked cadre of virtuosos... well, I hardly want to bore you with the exhaustive recap."
She could never. I could live lifetimes in her voice. I would welcome the ache of hearing her displeasure rather than be denied its infinite splendor. An endless list of my shortcomings and failures passing her lips would be euthanasia by way of paradox.
She curled that beautiful bottom lip of hers and looked inward. Her brown eyes narrowed. Her head tilted just-so.
"You decide," she said. There was a collective gasp. She refocused on me, and smiled again. "Be creative. I know you'll do your best to serve and please me, and to obey my Chief Commandments."
My heart filled with joy again, to nearly bursting. Every neuron came alive, spurred by her command, but also by her faith in me. I could feel the heat of the activity. I began to sweat, though it worried me not at all.
"...than your science..." I muttered. "...than these..."
Something was happening. An idea was taking shape. It was a laborious process. I'd never been brilliant, but I'd been curious. I'd been fascinated by the fiction of old. Long ago, our ancestors had marveled at the vaporous gizmos and gadgets that real science had eventually given real form and function. No one was really sure if we'd remained on that path and accelerated past all comprehension, or if we'd jumped the rails to a far stranger fulfillment of fantasy-as-prophecy.
"I shall be your prophet," I said. "Not merely to other worlds. To other dimensions. To other times. To other realities. Wherever I go, your light will shine. It will link them all to you with brilliant quantum chains. They will love you as I love you. They will worship you as I worship you. They will defy their heavens and brave their hells to reach out and touch your throne - to make the many as one, under your perfection."
She stood. More gasps. She approached me. She touched me. She kissed me. The ecstasy should have killed me. Only my future of service saved my life.
"Good boy," she whispered in my ear. "I will miss you terribly. I'll be sure to summon you back from time to time. If you've performed admirably, you will be rewarded."
Tears flowed freely down my face. Envy and jealousy would have set the room on fire had she not, in her infinite wisdom, killed them both dead.
I felt the change. My declaration had passed the test. The only one above her - *for now,* all of us thought together - filled me with the power.
Her lip twitched. She smirked.
"Hmmm," she said. "I suppose I'll have to put off conquering this world for quite a bit longer, then."
She was smarter than the one above her. One day, very soon, she would rule. Oh, how we would all rejoice. | 2022-11-17T07:41:47 | 2022-11-17T05:10:38 | 772 | 64 |
[WP] 100 25 year olds have been chosen. each must choose a super power that cannot be repeated and cannot exceed the power of god. The goal is to see who can conquer the world. You have the number 100. The best powers have already been chosen. Then it's your turn and you choose..... | "And yours?" the divine agent asked me. A weariness in the question betrayed some edge of boredom or frustration in dealing with petty mortals.
"Power negation?" I ventured.
"Taken," I was informed, flatly.
"Power *theft*?"
"Taken."
"Domination, then." I was aware of the purpose of these powers and figured the direct approach could work.
"*Taken*."
By that point, I was as frustrated as the divine. Reflecting on the state of the world to be ruled, I thought about the one thing it perhaps needed most.
"Consequences."
"Excuse me?" the divine asked as if brought out of a stupor.
"I want the power to bring consequences. Divine judgment, if you will."
The glowing wells that passed for the divine's eyes narrowed into bedight points. "Granted. Fortune be with you."
The following days where interesting, to say the least.
I watched as divine strength could mangle a car well before he could throw it, and when his joints gave out, it was gruesome. (I'd find out later that I was only partially responsible.)
Divine speed earned herself some well-deserved friction burns before she collided with an oncoming 18-wheeler. I might feel sorry for her but moreso for the horrified driver.
Divine dominance actually had to *manage* the people he controlled, and it turns out not many people are well suited to management. He quit after twenty or so.
Same with divine presence. Sure, she was popular, the biggest celebrity in an era, but the constant demands for attention drove her into hermitage inside of six months. She's in her mansion living off of the gifts her fans leave at her front gate.
Poor divine flight, shot down for violating sovereign air space.
Divine greed, the guy who nicked Power Theft? Arrested for arson. His home country decided not to execute him in favor of using him to power a hydroelectric plant.
Divine wealth, the multi-quintillionaire? Assassinated, and none too subtly. Turns out the world's economic powers get very edgy around someone who can literally buy whole nations.
Maybe I feel the worst for divine fortitude. Can't be hurt, physically or mentally. But without pain, specifically discontent, he doesn't do much because he's free from want and the drive to change anything. At least his Food Dares YouTube channel has over 2 million subscribers, though the idea of scorpion pepper mukbang makes me flinch.
Oh right, divine denial, the Power Negation guy? We're actually good friends. We were both aiming for ways to stop the other 98 from screwing over the world. Once the threat was over, I turned my influence to the world political stage. I keep Denial in my back pocket to stop me from doing anything heinous, but things have gotten a lot better now that corrupt officials and executives are getting what they deserve. | "Number 100. Choose your blessing."
It took almost half an hour, but I was finally up. By that point, most of the "traditional" super powers had already been taken. I would've been in a lot of trouble if I wasn't a massive comic book geek. I motioned for the angel to come close so I could whisper my choice in their ear.
The angel nodded and pulled back to say, "Morella Wolff has chosen her blessing, but at her request, it will not be revealed to the rest of you. All participants have selected their blessings. The tournament shall begin. Prepare for transport."
A golden light washed over me and everyone else. In an instant, I was standing in the middle of an abandoned restaurant. The angel had talked about this--this was the world God abandoned after Their last attempt at handing out blessings spiraled into World War III. As I looked around, a booming voice called out, "BEGIN."
Before I could react, a person dropped down behind me and put me in a headlock. Dokja Sun from Korea, who had taken the power of portal creation. As Dokja started jerking me around, I used my blessing. Dokja's grip loosened enough for me to turn around slightly and growl at her, "Sit."
Dokja immediately let go of me and dropped to her knees. With a panicked expression on her face, she cried out, "Yes mistress, I'm sorry mistress!" I smirked; my dominance aura was working flawlessly. I whispered my request into Dokja's ear, who nodded and portaled away.
"Okay, that's just...freaky." I turned around to see two others walk into the building: Adrian Ballantyne from Scotland, who had chosen the power to become a wolfman, and Idris Lowe from New Zealand, who could create forcefields. Adrian bared his teeth and said, "This is what you chose? Some weird-ass power to indulge in your kinks?"
I chuckled. "Adrian, my friend, you're not seeing the bigger picture here. The whole point of this tournament is to find the one who will conquer the world. And this blessing of mine is going to make holding onto that power so much easier. Besides, you don't even know the best part of it."
Idris threw up a forcefield around me and remarked, "Alright, enough with the supervillain shit, let's just--"
*THUD!*
Dokja portaled back to my location with another woman in tow, landing directly on top of Idris. As the forcefield fell, Dokja presented the woman to me, prompting me to pat her on the head and say, "You did wonderfully, pet." I then turned my attention back to the pair. "The best part about my blessing is that the field of effect grows with every mind that falls under my influence."
I turned the woman around to face Adrian and Idris. "Gentlemen, you remember Melody Matthias from Paraguay, don't you? Took the power of duplication, if memory serves. Now, Melody, why don't you be a good pet and start adding some more bodies to this little shindig?"
Melody nodded excitedly and began concentrating. Blurry balls of light were launched from her body, turning into a new Melody every time they hit the ground. As Adrian and Idris tried to make a break for it, a swarm of Melody clones weighed them down, pulling them further and further into my range. Eventually, the two stopped struggling and turned around to bow before me and beg forgiveness.
As I revelled in their obedience, I said, "Come along, pets. The world deserves to meet her new master." | 2022-11-17T07:41:47 | 2022-11-17T07:40:04 | 772 | 32 |
[WP] 100 25 year olds have been chosen. each must choose a super power that cannot be repeated and cannot exceed the power of god. The goal is to see who can conquer the world. You have the number 100. The best powers have already been chosen. Then it's your turn and you choose..... | I stood speechless at the answer of the last candidate. Everyone else chose a super power following the spirit of the event, but the last one had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. I glanced down at the written rules, wondering what idiot intern had threw together the wording, and how I was going to fire them immediately after this.
What she asked for wasn’t supposed to be possible, but because of a simple laziness on the part of the rules, it was not only possible, but now that I see it, the only right choice.
The rules said each must choose a unique power, and that it cannot exceed the power of god. Cannot exceed.
“Number 100, you have you wish. You now have the power of God.” | “My turn!” I yelled, running forward. As I faced the monitor, I scrolled the list of powers already claimed. All of them were, even the one I wanted, but I decided to ask anyway.
“I want the power to fly!” I proclaimed.
🎵 “GRANTED” A musical synthesized voice said.
The crowd jeered and booed, but then the adjudicator stepped forward. “Well, let’s see then.” she said. I grinned, cocky, and ran forward to the front of the stage. Reaching the lip, I leapt into the air, expecting to take flight, but I fell to the ground with a rather comical clack. The crowd roared with laughter.
“You asked for something already received. It can’t be duplicated! You got nothing. Pathetic.” she said, looking down her nose at me. “Pick yourself up, boy!”
“Fuck” I said, starting to move. All the pressure of lifting myself up moved something in my gut, and I couldn’t help but fart.
Before I knew it, I’d flown into the air. I hovered above the crowd, all of whom were pinching their noses and gazing up at me in horror.
Well I guess that’s one way to achieve flight. We thought powers couldn’t be duplicated, but it seems we were wrong. The method of attaining the power couldn’t be duplicated. The first guy, well, the first guy had wings.
I have… powerful lips.
(I’m so sorry) | 2022-11-17T07:33:47 | 2022-11-17T03:54:46 | 420 | 40 |
[WP] Adapt a famous fairy tale so it has a realistic ending.
I'm about to go to sleep. Bedtime story!... Except that I won't read anything until I get up. Happy Saturday. | *And so it was, that upon awakening, the Sleeping Beauty saw the charming prince's face over hers, and pressed charges against him for his misconduct, for he had no means of obtaining consent while she was asleep. And so it was, that the Prince had royal power and manipulated the legal system to frame the princess of conspiring against the throne. The Prince is now a great and mighty king, and the beauty lives in a prison to this very day.* | She slept and never moved. She looked like a statue carved from gleaming white marble, but stone could never do justice to the beauty of her delicate face.
These were the lips which had so entranced the knight, and he stared at them longingly. A tiny dribble of drool escaped from the corner of his mouth, like a hungry puppy. As he leant down to clasp his lips to her, what he had fervently dreamed about, he thought of the blissful marriage and children that had been fated.
*Ahhhhhhhghghghghghghghghghghhh!* "Get the fuck off me!"
She squirms out from under him, and rolls off the bed.
"What? I'm your knight in shining armour! Your saviour. You're fated to be my bride! Why would you try to fight destiny?"
He yells, looking indignantly at her.
"Rape! Rape!"
Running to the other side of the room, grabbing books along the way, she begins to hurl them at his head.
| 2014-03-29T11:23:57 | 2014-03-29T10:43:35 | 16 | 12 |
[WP] A man finds that each numbered button he pushes on an elevator opens up to show himself at the corresponding age in the past or future, whether it’s floor 40 (age 40) or floor 2 (age 2). Not knowing the consequences, the man decides to exit the elevator at a chosen floor. | It was all so perfect.
35... 36... 37... 38...
The floor number slowly climbed.
"I'm almost there."
He shook with adrenaline.
39... 40...
The elevator doors slid open to reveal nothing. Not his family. Not himself. There wasn't anything at all. His smile immediately disappeared. An empty room would have been something. But this... this was nothing.
The elevator chimed and the doors closed.
"What does this mean?"
Tristan pressed the button for floor 35. The elevator descended.
40... 39... 38...
"How could there be nothing?"
37... 36... 35...
The elevator stopped. The doors opened. Tristan stepped out into the room. But something was wrong. Everything had changed. Tristan had just come from floor 35. He had seen a happy and older version of himself playing with his two daughters, his wife pregnant with their third child watching nearby. They had all been unable to see him; he was only a spectator to their joyous lives. But now, standing there, Tristan was staring at himself, and himself was staring back.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why wasn't there anything there?"
"You already know."
"No, I don't. Tell me."
"Hearing me say it won't change anything. You already know."
"I.. I die?"
"Yes. We die."
"How?"
"Does it matter? Everyone dies."
"Shouldn't it matter?"
"It's better that we don't know."
Tristan was distraught. The knowledge that he wouldn't live to see 40, a mere 16 years from now, was devastating.
"Where are they?"
"Where is whom?"
"Where is my wife? Our kids? I was just here, moments ago. I saw them. We were all so happy."
"There aren't any kids. Or wife. I never married. How could I? Knowing what we know. You should never have gone up there."
"But I had to know. I..."
"You HAD to know? No one ever knows and they all live out their happy lives. We know. And we are miserable for it."
"But we.. I... don't have to be miserable. I could still marry her! I could still have children!"
"No. You can't. Because it consumes you, defines you. You will try to lead a normal, happy life. And you will fail. And you will die miserable and alone. All because you HAD to know."
Tristan fled. The elevator took him to the ground floor and he ran from the building to where his fiancée was waiting. Upon seeing her, he tried to smile, but instead wept. | My mom was there. She's been dead for five years now, but she was there. The doors opened to a bathroom with some big and dark figure standing over me. I could feel something like a rock hitting me in the back of the head over and over. And my mom was in the background, staring, unblinking. Unmoving.
I pressed another button. I was too dazed to really know what the fuck I was doing, so I just pressed one. There was this girl in the doorway, not my mom this time. It was a child, no more than five years old, and she stared at me with tears streaming down her face. I could feel my hand around something that felt like a snake, and I brought it up and down and up and down and all the while this little girl screamed and I screamed in a senseless rage. My head felt dizzy, and I could taste something like rubbing alcohol in my mouth.
I pressed another button, higher up this time, my heart beating faster and faster. It felt like it was going to explode from my throat. I didn't really know what the hell was happening, to be honest.
This time, when the door opened, I felt my bones and joints aching, like they were on fire and I couldn't do anything about it. I was looking up at a ceiling in some strange room with strange people all around me. My skin was wrinkled, and each movement I made sent waves of pain through my body. I looked to my left, and the same girl who was crying sat beside me. She had the same black hair and the same frightened blue eyes. She was older now and she was crying, but I could see something behind those eyes, behind that veil of sadness. She was relieved, relieved that I was dying. I don't know how I knew I was dying, it just sort of felt like I was.
I pushed the highest button, and as the doors closed the pain subsided. I tried to catch my breath, but before I could the doors opened again. It was hot. I mean, so hot that my whole body felt like it burst into flame, the kind of hot that makes the air around you feel so thick you can hardly breathe. There was a man standing there. He had a wide, bloody grin on his face, and his eyes were fire, and his forehead sprouted these massive horns. There were others behind him. They all had eyes of fire and they looked at me from the darkness and the heat.
"Welcome," the man said.
I screamed, fear gripping my throat and strangling me. I reached for another button, any button besides this place. I didn't know what this place was, but all I knew was that I couldn't go there. Anything but here.
The doors opened again, a little bell signaling my arrival. I was in a crib, the familiar sounds of a baby's giggle filling the room. I stepped through. I don't know why I stepped through. I could've stepped through any floor I wanted, and for whatever reason I chose that one.
The more I think about it, the more I know why I chose that door. I chose it because i felt like I had to. I had to do things over again. I had to do it all over and make it right this time. I got a second chance, and this time things will be different. I think. | 2014-06-17T15:07:09 | 2014-06-17T14:27:31 | 41 | 26 |
[WP] In the distant future, an alien scientist has almost fully deciphered the messages found on the Voyager Spacecraft. With growing horror, the scientist realizes the crafts home system, and begins to pray. | Gzrn'llrp couldn't believe it. Three whole yarngs had passed with virtually no progress, and even after the initial results came back it took three MORE yarngs just to verify the information. There was simply no possible way the analysis was incorrect - the device was of Annihilator origin. The doctor's long, wiry grantui protrusions shuddered violently at the terrifying revelation, sending a low-pitched buzz reverberating through the lab. Surely nobody else must be aware of this crude machine's existence or the entire quadrant would have been sterilized by now.
The mere idea that the Annihilators could have the will to escape their quarantine - that the universe's most viscous and malignant presence STILL posed a threat - nearly drove Gzrn'llrp to madness. Here was proof that even the collaboration of millions of sentient species was unable to halt the aliens' onslaught. The Annihilators existed alone, surrounded on all sides by the most hostile, empty, and vast vacuum which could be engineered. One that even appeared to grow and spread with increasing speed. Nevertheless the desire to spread their sinister dominion remained undaunted and demonstrated perfectly their insatiable appetite for conquest.
Gzrn'llrp's mind began to carefully turn over in an attempt to decide the next course of action. Surely countless trillions of beings in the surrounding area would be vaporized immediately if this artifact's existence were revealed. And given the age of the thing there could very easily be an untold number of Annihilator ships and planets out there at this point; they had been exiled to their fate since they began using lumps of minerals to destroy one another. And now *this* device shows up.
[... and here's where I got bored writing] | Flying along in the dangerous Quadrant X-7 was a small reconnaissance craft, home to a few hundred Nebulins, a species that while rather stupid, are very efficient at producing offspring, and due to their small size, use up few resources.
"Captain Zarquan to Division A." Division A was responsible for waste management, that is, they were very good at finding and managing with other species' waste.
"We seen to have a unidentified object at position 45.73, 86.20. Zarquan out."
Terry squinted his bug eyes into the blackness. "OK Zarquan, can we shoot it?"
Zarquan giggled. "Shoot it? You shot the last one! You know what to do! Zarquan out!" He pulled his cape past his face in a dramatic exit.
"Stupid Zarquan and his cape" grumbled Terry as he sent out the recovery bots to pick up the unidentified object. As the bots were returning, Terry got a good look at the object. It was another spacecraft! The odds of finding a craft simply floating in space were... Well, Terry wasn't really quite sure of the odds, but he knew they weren't good. The odds were even less that... No it couldn't be!
"Zarquan, Zarquan!" Terry called.
"I said Zarquan out! And I even pulled my cape across my face! Did I not pull my cape across my face?"
"Zarquan, that object was a ship! A human ship!"
"Human? Ship?" Zarquan pictured the fleshy creatures mashed and molded into a spaceship. "Does it stink?"
Terry sniffed the air "No, but it does smell a little metallic."
This threw Zarquan off. "Well put it through the scanner, I guess."
Zarquan was puzzling over how a fleshy creature like a human could be turned into a space ship when the scanner beeped twice, with a slight interval between the beeps.
"It's an original!" Terry clamored. "We're all rich!"
A hissing sounds came from the airlock in Terry's scanning room. A curious look passed over his face.
"No, I'm going to be rich," Zarquan said, and pulled his cape over his face.
Edit: spacing | 2014-11-09T01:15:11 | 2014-11-09T00:37:30 | 55 | 37 |
[WP] a love story that ends with the words "and I hate her" | She wants to hang out absolutely all the time.
And when we don't, I'm constantly reminded of what I'm supposed to be doing with her. Hanging out with my family? "You should be spending that time with me right now."
Studying for exams? "You know, it's been a full 48 hours since we've done our thing together. Why won't you pay attention to me?"
It's getting to the point where I can't wake up in the morning and start hearing about how we need to spend the entire day together, for both her happiness and mine. I think I need help.
Heroin loves me. And I hate her. |
She reached out and grasped without my permission, took hold of my thoughts and pulled from remission.
She put on my blinders and opened my eyes, she showed me a sunset, called it a sunrise.
She promised me hope, she baited with joy. She knew me unknowing, too trusting, a toy.
She put on an act, such panache, such pride! She defied expectations, but filled mine with lies.
She pulled me out into the world, but only for sunny days, and seemed to forget to tell me that when she left, their'd be rain.
So I stepped out with her, from space meant for one, ready to love, my life had begun.
But she took the blinders with her, she let go with a throw.
She didn't pull the bait away, she let it rot, she let me know.
She told me it was all a fling, she'd had her 'nerdy one'.
The door's closed behind me, now I'm alone, damage done.
She showed me enough, so I can see, I can learn.
She took the blinders with her, now I'm forced to turn
Into a person she introduced, who, with you, I must confer,
Is only the me I was then, she's so stupid,
and I hate her. | 2014-11-24T06:49:36 | 2014-11-24T06:04:06 | 35 | 10 |
[WP] You are 90% certain your waiter is Hitler.
Stolen (shamelessly) from an AMA I saw. | The waiter looked at me expectantly, and rocked forward and back on his heels rather awkwardly as he endured my protracted silence.
"I uh - t-that is to say - my, you've aged surprisingly well!" I finally managed to issue, immediately cringing at my own inanity.
"Sir?" said the man I was almost certain was Hitler in an utterly professional display of waiterly discretion - polite, unassuming, and just a sprinkling of boredom.
"What? Oh, the ah - the *wine*! The wine has aged surprisingly well don't you think? I do. Do you like wine? Delicious!" I said, taking a theatrical sip from my glass.
"Pardon me, but Sir has not yet ordered any wine," he said, and with an imperceptibly smug tone added, "however I commend Sir on his taste, because all of our wines are excellent. Shall I bring one of these perhaps?"
Almost-Hitler made a sweeping motion to the wine list that I saw none of because I could not draw my eyes from his iconic moustache. It was him - it had to be! Nobody had the requisite bad taste but the man himself.
"I think I'll skip wine, I'll just have some juice," I decided, mostly stalling with myself to summon the courage to denounce the potential Ex-Fuhrer.
"One must be very careful when ordering a glass of juice," Hitler muttered darkly, "one never knows how one may be misheard."
J'accuse! I leapt to my feet, chair overturning, glasses rattling, deaf to the shocked gasps of my fellow diners as I shouted, "It's you!"
The waiter, all smugness drained from his demeanour, stood in mute shock.
"You're him! You're the guy, y-you, you're," my accusatory finger trembling fiercely, "You are Adolf! Fucking! Hitler!"
The man turned white, then very slowly his face began to redden in anger.
"I Sir? No," his voice shook with emotion, "I am Charlie Chaplin! Hitler is in the fucking kitchen!"
| When you go to a trashy Chinese restaurant, having a waiter is a bonus. If the waiter speaks decent English, that's awesome! And if the waiter looks Hitler, that's amazing!
I went to Chang's Chinese Kitchen to eat a quick meal. Granted, orange chicken cooked on a 20 year old iron skillet isn't the best meal, but when you're short on cash, any cheap meal is an amazing meal.
I sat down at the plastic table. The waiter came to my table, awaiting my order. "Hello, sir, vat can I git for you?"
I looked up. That voice sounded awfully familiar. It almost sounded that one dictator's voice during that war. Some name like Mittser? Kilter?
"I'll have a orange chicken with fried rice, sir."
"Certainly. Do you want brown rice or white rice?"
"Can I have the brown rice? I heard it's healthier."
He signed, mustache quivering in the air. "Brown rice? I'll have you know that white rice is healthier, tastes better, digests better, and is the superior grain. White rice is the best grain in the entire world!"
Huh. He really liked white rice, didn't he? "Alright. I'll take it!"
He smiled, a kind smile that hid other emotions. "Great! It'll be out soon enough"
This would be an interesting meal.
I starting texting my friend David while waiting for my food. I texted, "DUDE CHANG'S CHINESE KITCHEN HAS A WAITER HOLY CRAP WHEN DID THEY GET ONE"
He replied, "Waiter? You mean the German guy? They got him a few weeks ago from Argentina or something. He was like a refuge from the U.S FBI or something. IDK"
What? A German from Argentina? That didn't make sense. I opened up Safari on my iPhone to look up German refugees, but before I could, my food arrived.
The German man arrived with a smile on his face, bearing my food on a white dish. He sat my dish down, and I noticed that the chicken was arranged in the symbol of a swastika. Huh.
I looked up. "Uh, could I ask you a question?"
"Ask avay, my friend."
"I heard you were from Argentina?"
He cringed. "Yes. I vas...staying there for a vhile. Why?"
"Oh, nothing. I just thought you looked really familiar for some reason. Almost like someone I knew."
Instantly, as if he had been waiting for someone to recognize him, he dislocated his jaw, opened up wide, and forced my head through the gap.
And that is how I learned that Hitler too was a lizard person. | 2015-01-15T19:51:26 | 2015-01-15T19:08:15 | 349 | 88 |
[WP] Write about a unique relationship between an immortal and a time traveler. | Emerus was a time traveler, and his brother Amerus could never die,
Emerus jumped through worm holes, while Amerus contemplated the sky.
They were both great men of science, they were the smartest of their kind,
But as Emerus jumped through time, there was only one thing on his mind.
To sneak up on his dear brother Amerus, and with one tremendous hit,
Slap him across the back, and run off into the future yelling: "Amerus, you're IT!" | I waited to see him.
Every day, every minute, every second.
See, I didn't know when he would arrive to see me. It was never planned. Such was our relationship.
Our love.
It was meant to always remain desperate, to always be urgent. When I saw him I would be filled with joy and excitement and when he left I would die a little inside.
You would think an eternity would be...well eternal.
It would be. It dragged on before I met him.
Then it changed.
For a single hour every six months I would see him.
I did not know when nor where. That was to never be broken. It was the rule of our relationship.
So one day, as I sat in the cafe with the kindly waiter taking my order, I was confused to see him again.
It wasn't time.
He was breaking the rules.
It was then, as the waiter dropped a steaming cup of coffee before me that I realized what it meant.
Our time was coming to an end. This was it.
I was to be alone once more.
An eternity awaited.
An eternity.
For that moment it didn't matter.
Just one moment.
That's all I need. | 2015-05-03T03:38:18 | 2015-05-03T03:04:59 | 214 | 114 |
[WP] The year is 2340 and Dreamworks is filing for bankruptcy due to uninspired movies and their big brother disney is at the height of it's popularity, before filing for bankruptcy, they make one last movie. The story of the boy fishing on the moon. | SCENE: The Crescent Moon
The BOY looks down from his spot on the tip of the crescent moon sadly. He grabs another piece of fishing line next to him and carefully threads it into his rod.
BOY: [morose] Please be long enough this time. Just this once.
The BOY casts off the Moon. For the first time, the camera follows the sinker on the end of the line as it travels down. It passes a starfield, a medieval castle lit up with Vegas lights, and Chinese mountains as it falls. Finally it approaches ground (overhead shot).
CUT TO: Interior Shot (House)
A GIRL sits sadly in her room, gazing at the Moon from her window. Suddenly, a sinker plummets past her view. She gasps in surprise and hurries outside.
PAN THROUGH WINDOW TO: Exterior Shot (Backyard)
The GIRL approaches the line hesitantly.
GIRL: You... you finally made it...
The GIRL grabs hold of the line and tugs it twice.
CUT TO: The Crescent Moon.
The BOY is overjoyed as the line moves. He begins to reel it in. The GIRL travels past a chicken farm, an Old Western town and an Incan temple before she finally pulls herself onto the tip of the moon. The BOY and GIRL embrace as the clouds cover them. We see the Dreamworks logo, but with two changes. The BOY and GIRL are waving at the audience from the O, and the letters now read, THANK YOU.
Fade to black. | **So, Steven Spielberg Jr Jr Jr Jr Jr Jr Jr Jr Jr. This is it. Last call at Dreamworks.**
Sad but true, Robot Jerry Seinfeld. Can you believe it? From your humble stand up beginnings in 2035 to becoming the greatest robot porn star ever, yadda yadda yadda, and now you've killed Dreamworks. Great job!
**Whats the deal with movies?**
There isnt one. We're the last studio standing. You know what that means.
**Yeah, we gotta do our signoff picture. Like when Paramount made that movie about the mountain that sat there. And Columbia's last movie, about the lady with the torch who just stood there.**
But we have a secret weapon.
**A weapon!**
It's good to have a weapon.
**I would very much like the weapon.**
(funky bassline for five seconds)
Anyhow, our weapon is that we've got a kid who does shit.
**He does shit.**
He fishes!
**He fishes!**
Drops the line in the water. Boom.
**That kid is up to something.**
Yes, Robot Jerry Seinfeld. But what? What's he fishing for?
**Fish?**
On the moon? The kid is sitting on the moon.
**That's a good point, Stevem Spielberg I forget how many juniors. Wait, where does the water come from if he's in space?**
Is he in space? I mean, he's on the moon, but he's among the clouds.
**Just how big is this child?**
HE'LL KILL US ALL!
**And THAT is your movie.**
And all it takes is the giant space child putting his line in the water.
**I think you got something there, Stevie buddy!**
He puts the fucking line in the fucking water. [Turns on boombox](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X_DVS_303kQ) Would you fuck me? I'd fuck me. I'd fuck me hard. I'd fuck me so hard.
**Yeah, that'll happen.**
(freeze frame) (audience applause) (executive producer credit) | 2015-09-07T03:44:17 | 2015-09-06T22:21:30 | 985 | 77 |
[WP] The year is 2340 and Dreamworks is filing for bankruptcy due to uninspired movies and their big brother disney is at the height of it's popularity, before filing for bankruptcy, they make one last movie. The story of the boy fishing on the moon. | SCENE: The Crescent Moon
The BOY looks down from his spot on the tip of the crescent moon sadly. He grabs another piece of fishing line next to him and carefully threads it into his rod.
BOY: [morose] Please be long enough this time. Just this once.
The BOY casts off the Moon. For the first time, the camera follows the sinker on the end of the line as it travels down. It passes a starfield, a medieval castle lit up with Vegas lights, and Chinese mountains as it falls. Finally it approaches ground (overhead shot).
CUT TO: Interior Shot (House)
A GIRL sits sadly in her room, gazing at the Moon from her window. Suddenly, a sinker plummets past her view. She gasps in surprise and hurries outside.
PAN THROUGH WINDOW TO: Exterior Shot (Backyard)
The GIRL approaches the line hesitantly.
GIRL: You... you finally made it...
The GIRL grabs hold of the line and tugs it twice.
CUT TO: The Crescent Moon.
The BOY is overjoyed as the line moves. He begins to reel it in. The GIRL travels past a chicken farm, an Old Western town and an Incan temple before she finally pulls herself onto the tip of the moon. The BOY and GIRL embrace as the clouds cover them. We see the Dreamworks logo, but with two changes. The BOY and GIRL are waving at the audience from the O, and the letters now read, THANK YOU.
Fade to black. | "... We will now put our reporter Macklin Kaffiyeh on, who is currently positioned in front of the New Atlanta space cinema at Lagrange Station L2, where Disney's and DreamWorks's last movie 'The Boy who Fished for Laughter" is premiering today. Macklin, how is the mood out there?"
"Hello Barbara. There are loads of people out here, but most of them aren't customers. They are protesters."
"What are they protesting?"
"Several thousand members of the Colonial League of Vegan Living have arrived to protest the use of a fishing rod in the movie. They say even though the boy is fishing for mankind's escaped laughter, the use of such a killing tool in the as campaign is unacceptabl- OW!"
"What happened, Macklin?"
*I think someone from Human Beings for a Nonviolent Use of Language just hit me with a brick. I imagine it's because I said 'mankind' instead of 'the human race". I formally apologise. HuBNUL are here to voice their outrage over lack of representation for those with Autism Spectrum Disorders as well as for the Vietnamese."
"Why are HuBNUL armed with bricks, Macklin?"
"They are currently locked in a violent struggle with the Outer Solar Organisation of Concerned Parents, who are here to protest the movie's 'homoerotic undertones', seeing as the nameless protagonist's closest friend is male, like the protagonist himself."
"What does HuBNUL have to say about that?"
"They are outraged about the movie's high percentage of people who identify as one of the binary genders, almost two thirds of the movie's characters."
"Thank you, Macklin. DreamWorks has issued a statement today for people to 'just go enjoy the damn movie, it's really entertaining, for f***s sake.' Knowing this will be their last, this outburst is unlikely to influence their future box office sales. In other news, the launch of the reboot of the almost forgotten Star Wars Franchise of the 20st and 21st century has been delayed due to members of the Sol Propriety Committee storming the studio and injuring several employees after controversy over use of a 'bad word' by one of the movie's characters during a pitched space battle ..." | 2015-09-07T03:44:17 | 2015-09-06T22:54:55 | 985 | 52 |
[WP] All doctors must carry a staff. The staff must be hand carved by the doctor, and for every patient a doctor can't treat they lose an inch off their staff. When a staff is gone, so is their license.
X-post from /r/crazyideas and /u/BrassDidgeStrings | She bent over and lifted a beautiful, pale, wooden staff from under the operating table. Her scrubs were soaked in blood and sweat, chemicals and tears. It was only Doctor Silvia Nite and her most recent patient. The room was quiet. In her gloved hand the staff carved with great care years ago as a bright eyed medical student shimmered. It always shimmered in the presence of the dead, injured or sick, like a beacon to guide the doctor towards those in need… or to those they had failed.
“I’m sorry” She said as she reached for a scalpel. This was tradition. This was law. For every failure a doctor took an inch off their staff. It was a painful experience for most. The staff was the embodiment of the Doctor’s skill. The longer the staff the better the doctor was the common saying. It was so much more than that. Most doctors worked in safe specialties, where only a handful of failures might happen over a long and wealthy career. The truly great doctors were the ones who would risk their career because saving lives mattered far more.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I did all I could… “She was so tired. She’d been operating for nearly 14 hours. “Your name… Your name is… was Matilda Twine. 8 years old… your mom said you loved fire trucks, ponies and the color purple. “Silvia managed a small smile “You were very brave…”
A true doctor never feared losing their staff. They only feared failing a patient.
She turned her staff around, taking the scalpel and inhaling deeply. With a sharp, precise slice one inch of her staff fell onto the operating table. Silvia folded the small piece of herself into the little girl’s lifeless hand and set her staff to the side. “Can you forgive me?” She asked the little girl.
In the quiet room, Silvia’s pale staff rattled, a new vine emerging from the cut base, twining up and around, adding more than an inch in length. Silvia removed her gloves to wipe the tears from her eyes. She laughed softly “Thank you.”
From the top of the staff, a flower had bloomed. It’s petals a beautiful deep purple.
((First time writing for a prompt. ))
edit: oh wow so many comments thank you all! And reddit gold! thank you /u/AdmiralBiscuit ! | Once upon a time, at an elite university, an idealistic pre-med college student, [while showering](https://www.reddit.com/r/showerthoughts), got the idea that all doctors must carry a staff. The staff must be hand carved by the doctor, and for every patient a doctor can't treat, the doctor loses an inch off the staff. When the staff is gone, so is the doctor's license.
*What a brilliant idea!* the student thought. *This will ensure that only people serious about becoming doctors become doctors and that only skilled doctors treat patients and thus greatly improve healthcare and bring an end to incompetence and malpractice! This will usher in a medical utopia!*
She got together her friends and told them her idea. They all agreed that it was a brilliant idea, and so they formed a student group to advocate it. To draw attention to their cause, they staged a sit-in of their university's medical school. At that point, their sit-in began spreading across social media like wildfire. Because she was so charismatic, after listening to her speeches, more and more students joined the sit-in, until the sit-in shut down the medical school by making it impossible for the professors to teach classes.
Shutting down a medical school at an elite university was of course big news, so reporters descended upon the school, and the sit-in drew first nationwide and then international media coverage.
*What a brilliant idea!* the public thought, watching from their homes. *This will ensure that only people serious about becoming doctors become doctors and that only competent doctors treat patients and thus greatly improve healthcare and bring an end to incompetence and malpractice! This will usher in a medical utopia!*
Bombarded by calls from their constituents as to what a brilliant idea this was, legislators around the world rapidly passed laws revising each country's medical licensing standards: now, all doctors must carry a staff. The staff must be hand carved by the doctor, and for every patient a doctor can't treat, the doctor loses an inch off the staff. When the staff is gone, so is the doctor's license.
Once the new law passed, medical students realized that the easiest way to circumvent the potential loss of their medical license was to carve really long staffs. As a result, medical students typically carved staffs that were at least twenty feet long, giving them at least 240 (20 feet x 12 inches per feet) chances to fail at treatment.
Realizing that the original laws were toothless due to this loophole, the laws were revised to add an additional limitation: staffs were limited to a short maximum length.
What happened next was that doctors stopped wanting to treat difficult-to-treat conditions, as they risked losing inches off their short staffs and eventually their medical license. As a result, difficult-to-treat conditions went untreated. It was not just that terminal patients went untreated; no, it was much worse than that. In cases where a condition was difficult to treat but still treatable, doctors wouldn't even try, turning the potentially treatable conditions into crippling or terminal ones.
And so, around the world, disability and death rates skyrocketed. | 2015-11-12T20:03:09 | 2015-11-12T19:03:04 | 812 | 34 |
[WP] Everyone who dies reincarnates in Tier 2 universe. People there have all memories from the previous lives, and they suspect there are more Tiers. People live really differently there compared to Tier 1.
EDIT: thank you everyone for the great texts. I'm enjoying reading them. Having a lot of people expand on a concept I proposed is fascinating! | Tier Two was not what they told us it would be.
Tier Two wasn't the glistening heaven it was supposed to be. Tier Two wasn't the shining palace they said it would be. Tier Two wasn't the utopia we were promised.
Tier Two was hell. Everywhere you looked, suffering, pain, and anger roamed the streets. You couldn't even call them streets anymore; they were torn up, trashed, dirt pathways into god knows where. All science, logic, belief, and love was gone. Hope as we once knew it was gone, and everyone was left with their previous memories taunting them of the perfect lives they lead before this.
When the scientists first found evidence that a second later existed, all hell broke loose. Without hesitation, many leaped off of skyscrapers, littering the streets with bloodied bodies. The government tried to contain it, attempting everything they could to stop the temptation. Turns out, the offer seemed too good to them, as well.
"Why are you writing this?" I hear you ask.
I'm not staying in this hell hole any longer, that's why. I've found a way out.
It takes the form of a place called *'Tier Three'*. | The icy cold gun rested in my hand, it was heavier then I expected, weighing down my hand. Around me the depressing beige walls seemed to get closer to me as I was reflecting my life, well my second life.
I was put on this world at the age of 20. I knew thats not when my life started but my memory was fuzzy on the 1st tier, especially my early ages. When I came into this world I thought things would be different, more chances. Yes, the technology was better and the food was too, but I ended up in the same desk job as before. Stuck in a 1×1 cubicle all day. I thought things would be different.
I used to have a wife, she was the best thing that ever happened to me, much better than my ex in the 1st tier. With here I thought things truly were different. But she left with the suicide wave that happened a while ago. It happened when someone claimed they found proof of the the 3rd tier would come, and everyone in their half-happy lives would leave trying to find a better place. I don't know why I didn't leave with her, I should have pulled the trigger, when I was standing here ten years ago, holding her smooth skin hand. I couldn't do it, but now I will.
Joy was gnawing at my trouser, wondering what I was doing. I had gotten her to solve my loneliness, but it hadn't worked. The dark void could never be filled, I could never get out this never ending spiral of depression. This was the only way.
I lifted the gun pushing my hand up, and heard the click.
The third world was amazing, no, it was peaceful.
Silent as the darkest night. | 2016-01-22T01:28:33 | 2016-01-21T21:51:30 | 18 | 10 |
[WP]You sold your soul to the Devil some years ago, today he gives it back and says, "I need a favor". | "And what could you *possibly* require from me?" Vernon asked. After selling his soul years before, he now stood at a somewhat remarkable six-foot-two, dressed himself rather well, and had money enough to retire at forty. Such was the life of one fated for eternal hellfire. "Getting my soul back would be nice, but- what of our deal?"
"Look, Vern. I just really need you to do something for me," said the Devil- although she was more commonly known as Kalysta. Throughout the centuries, there had been many rulers of Hell, and she was the most recent one. "It'll only take a few days. Our deal will still be intact, 'kay? Just one simple thing, and you can get back to your life."
"Does it involve drugs?" Vernon asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It does not," replied Kalysta, shaking her head.
"A short spree of ultraviolence?" Vernon questioned, craning his head a bit closer.
"Fuck no," responded Kalysta, crossing her arms.
"Banishing escaped hellspawn?" Vernon inquired, crossing his own arms in turn.
"No, but it's related to that," Kalysta returned. She went into her pocket, producing a wallet, which she spread open and pointed toward Vernon. Within was an identification card, in plain view, as well as...
A picture of a small, and rather cute, demon girl. She wore a dress, and bore significant resemblance to Kalysta.
"You want me to banish a child!?" Vernon exclaimed. "There's no way in-"
"Like I said, it's only tangentially related! Let me speak, you soulless cur!" Kalysta shouted back at him. "This is my daughter. She's got a piano recital tonight, but I've got some shit-eating hellspawn to track down."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"I want you to go to her recital. Sit in my spot, clap when she's done, take her home, and put her to bed."
Vernon stared for a long while at the demoness. Finally, he let out a sigh. "And you'll return my soul, if I do so?"
"I said that's what I'd do, right?" Kalysta asked, putting her wallet away. "Are you gonna do it, or do I need to find some other, more desperate sap to bargain with? Mind, I'm asking *you*, because you seem to be among the most sane of the guys who've sold their soul off recently. Lots of those guys are weak in the head, but you've kept it together." She stared at him, for a short few seconds. "You don't seem stupid enough to cross me by messing with my daughter, is what I mean."
Vernon gently sighed, putting a hand to his face. "Very well. I'll do it. Having my soul back would certainly be nice."
---
I might finish this later, if there's demand for it, but as it is it seems fine.
Extremely untimely edit: check out [my sub](https://www.reddit.com/r/Probroscis/) for more various written stuff. If I end up continuing this, it'll be there. | I was splayed out on a filthy hotel mattress, at least two other naked bodies tangled in my limbs, every brain cell in my skull burnt out, when the devil came for me.
He'd gotten fatter since I last saw him, putting on the pounds of middle age, his hairline receding up past his horns. His beard had gotten thicker, joined up with his mustache. And he was dressing better, had a new suit. Even in my inebriated state, a little tickle in the back of my mind was wondering how come the devil had aged with me.
"Jesus," I said. My mouth tasted like crap. "It's only been..." I tried to do the calculations in my head. "Six years."
"Seven years," the devil said, and gave a little condescending smile at me. "But that's your fault, not mine. I promised you wealth and fame for the rest of your life. You're the one who cut your life short."
"Mmmm." Last night was a blur. I couldn't remember what I had taken. It had fucked me up bad enough that I found I didn't particularly care about dying. I sat up, disentangling myself from the two women. They slept like the dead. No. That wasn't right. I was dead. I was the dream. They slept like the living.
I tried to shake my head clear and stood up, the carpeted floor tickling my bare feet. I felt like a corpse. I felt embalmed. Hell, I figured, had to at least be more interesting than this. "Well. All right. Let's go."
"Ah, hold on," the devil said, and from his suit pocket fished out a wisp of light and air. Just seeing it, I felt a tug in the pit of my chest that I hadn't felt in the last seven years. It called out to me. I wanted it more badly than I had ever wanted anything in my life. It was part of me. My soul.
The devil dangled it in front of my eyes like a dewdrop. "I need a favor," he said.
"Anything," I said. Jesus. I was crying just looking at it. My whole goddamn life wasted. Oh god. Oh God. If only people could see this. If only people knew how delicate and fragile and beautiful it all really was.
"Here ya go," he said, and tossed it to me.
I caught it in both hands, cradled it, cooed to it like a newborn babe. You don't know what it feels like. You don't know what it feels like being so complete. I was floating. I was ...
I looked up. I really was floating. There was the light, so beautiful and good and pure, there were the voices calling me. I managed to tear my eyes away from it to look back at the devil, who was just standing there hands in pockets, grinning.
"What's happening?" I gasped to him. "I was - I sold you my soul. I'm not - I don't deserve this. I'm damned! You're supposed to be dragging me to hell!"
The devil beamed up at me almost beatific. "No one deserves this. That's the point of grace, ain't it? God's a soft touch, letting every penitent soul up in there." He ran a finger over his eyebrow. "There's a war coming. The End Times. And I need as many double agents up in there as possible."
I was too light! I was still floating! Even the dread that gripped my heart was fading away at the joy of entering Heaven. "What's the favor?" I screamed back, with the last scraps of panic I could muster. "What the hell are you going to have me do?"
He simply waved me goodbye with the very tips of his fingers as the light and love became overwhelming. "Don't you worry about it. You'll find out when I collect." | 2016-06-27T06:58:27 | 2016-06-27T06:47:57 | 1,053 | 89 |
[WP] 5000 years after an apocalyptic event, you are woken up from a cryogenic sleep by the new inhabitants of planet earth. Upon awakening, you are told you are the sole survivor of the human race. | "Lieutenant Myers, can you hear me? Blink twice if you can."
Blink. Its like a glass blanket moving across my eyes. Blink.
"Good. Everything seems ok. Vitals are normal. A curious lack of atrophy in the muscular tissues. Myers, I need you to follow this light with your eyes. There we go. Yup keep going. Ok. He seems to have proper cognitive function. Do you know where you are?"
I struggle to find an answer. The world is covered in wool. The person infront of me is entering data on some kind o screen that floats in the air while talking to a multitude of people millling around. My voice sounds weak, almost silent.
"America... The United States. California... Are we still there?" I ask, trying to pull the fragments together.
I can't see the person's face. They have a reflective facemask. It reminded me of the suits that CDC workers used in areas with epidemics. Was I infected?
"Do a search for America, California, and the United States. I need answers people. Myers, do you know what you were doing before you woke up?"
I thought about it. The person is very patient. What was I doing? Slowly, things come back into focus. The wall behind the person is emblazoned with a bright white number 23. Room 23. I remembered it being a joke. 23 degrees below 0 kelvin. Absolute zero... the moment when all molecular processes stop.
This facility was a test. We were trying to cryogenically freeze someone and bring them back. Emergency medical transports.... no, we really needed it for space. Ah. Now it made sense. But, where was the team? None of these people were familiar. And I couldn't see their faces. Their uniforms were a navy blue with patches that made no sense. Well, one did. It was bursting boms with a skull. Doesn't take a genius to figure that one out.
"We were doing a test. Cryogenics."
The person sat back, seemingly contemplating something. Slowly it began to remove its helmet. Human features, but the eyes were somewhat larger. The mouth seemed to be enlarged as well, though the teeth were still definitely in zone of humanity. I allowed my eyes to travel all over before asking the only thing I could.
"What are you?"
She sighed. You couldn't have discerned it from the bulky suit but now you had no doubt. Her voice was actually calming without the distortion of the microphone.
"I am human... but not the same as you. A.... lot of time has passed. About 5000 years. We dont know how this facility stayed online. Humans have changed quit a bit. Um..." She seemed to fidget before looking directly into my eyes.
"Myers... you might be the last of humanity as you know it."
I sat there. It would be shocking but part of my brain was still elsewhere. Still trying to wake up. I took a deep breath.
"How?"
*Thanks for reading. I havent written in quite some time, but this prompt was inspiring.* | "Bob, this is stupid. Put the money into a trust for your kids or something - don't blow it on this cryogenic crap!" Bobs wife was furious. "I've always wanted to do this Lisa... It's my dying wish. And with everything going on, who knows? Maybe I'll be recovered once things get better in a couple hundred years," Bob retorted.
So Bob withdrew his savings, made a few calls, and scheduled his freezing within the week. "I'd like the deluxe package," Bob ordered. His tube would come with a years supply of food and water, as well as a timer to inform him of the date when he woke up. "For worst case scenario reasons, the tube will automatically shut down after 5,000 years and you will be revived," said the contractor. Bob looked at him with suspicion. "That won't be necessary though... Right?" A chuckle came from the contractor. "Of course," he replied.
It was all very easy and quite painless. The tube looked rather intimidating, but between the anesthetics and extremely comfortable sweats Bob was wearing, he felt no fear. "Good night Bob," the anesthesiologist spoke as he pushed a final needle into Bob.
"Damn it's fucking cold!" Bob yelled. Panic arose. Where am I? How long have I been asleep? I'm still in the tube...
He looked at the timer. "5 FUCKING THOUSAND YEARS?!" he shouted. That damn contractor. "I paid good money for this!" Bob entered the unlock passcode of his tube and it popped open.
To his surprise, he was no longer in the lab facility. Instead he was in a very clean, holographicly designed building. But for some reason, there were multiple items from his time period surrounding him. Cola cans, warheads, Justin Bieber CDs... And... Is that a photo of Harambe? "This must be some sort of futuristic museum," Bob muttered. "Glad to know we were remembered by shitty music, memes, obesity, and war." As Bob slowly climbed from his tube, he felt a tingle down his spine.
Somebody was watching him.
He spun around, and before him was an odd humanoid looking robot.
"Oh my God dude come look at this! This is some Doctor who level shit com'ere quick!" the robot shouted. A heard of robots came flocking out. Some looked like humanoids, others like birds and animals, and some like Roombas.
"Hello?" Bob questioned, bewildered.
"It can talk!" a small Roomba-robot squealed.
"Of course I can talk.... What's going on? Who are you? Can I speak to the manager here?"
The humanoid bot that had initially spot him came forward. "Here... I'll connect you to the Master." The robot went dead for a moment, and suddenly he rebooted but with a different personality. "I am the Master, diplomat and informant of Earth OSx2.0 . How may I help you?"
"I am Bob. I just woke up, what's going on?"
"Bob? As in the cryogenic exhibition Bob?"
"Yes?"
"Oh my, this is not good. I'm sorry Bob, but we cannot have any humans alive here. Tight ship we have to run!"
In a swift motion the humanoid robot shot Bob with some sort of dart, and Bob's vision went fuzzy. "Shit... I paid good money for this..." he muttered. The robot hovered over to him. "Goodnight Bob," it whispered, before Bob finally lost consciousness.
This is my first Reddit story. Hope it's okay. Didn't proof because I'm lazy. | 2016-10-08T09:35:05 | 2016-10-08T04:16:34 | 15 | 10 |
[WP] In a world where people can only be killed by those they truly love, you are an assassin. | You can only be killed by someone you love. That's always been the rule. We don't know who made it. Many people suspect it was God. Some people don't believe in him, but it is a pretty compelling argument for the existence of a higher being. I personally never was a faithful sort. In more ways than one. People are so easy, you know? A touch here, a smile there, and boom. They're clay in your hands. Yeah, some people find it hard to trust. Love is the highest reward in a society where it can be your only downfall. But still, life goes on.
I've only been working at it a few years. It's tough work, especially since most of the targets are high-profile people who expect something like this. They keep their hearts close. They're harder to get into. More of a challenge, definitely. And a little harder to let go of, once you break that lock. You see a different side of someone who loves despite their fear. It's more genuine. It's more rewarding. It's more personal. The rule is that they have to love you, but sometimes you can't help but love them back. It takes a toll, killing the people who open themselves so intimately to you.
The benefit to this is that it gets harder for you to love. A good assassin can stay in business for the rest of their life, with no worries for counter-assassins trying to end the streak. The drawback is that it gets very, very lonely. Most assassins have some sort of mental disorder. Usually, good ol' depression.
I'm sitting in a hotel room, now. And I've tried so hard. The loneliness, it eats at you. And you know what the desperate do, right? They try to end it. The only solution, to a mind which has gone over every option. Suicide. Some people can do it easy. Flick of the wrist, twitch of the finger, simple. Some people have it a little harder. Me, I've tried so many different ways.
But you can only be killed by someone you love. That's always been the rule. | Coldness swamps the man, his hand trembles as it reaches for the knife sticking out of his ribs. His fingers only brush the blade before it stops and starts to twitch sporadically, the last spasms of a dying man. With cloudy eyes, he looks up to his attacker.
He coughs at the sight of her.
"Why?" croaks the man.
Tears trail down her cheeks and she wipes at them with her forearm, careful not to spread the blood on her hands.
"Because I love you," says the woman.
The man blinks, his head cloudy. "What?"
She pulls in closer, down on her knees next to the dying man. She takes his shaking hand and stills it. Her voice is soft.
"Because I love you."
"I... I don't understand," sobs the man, "Why would... why would you *kill* me because of that?"
His voice cracks on the *kill*, the reality of the word striking him as he says it. She reaches forward, stroking his head as blood soaks her knees.
"Because when you love someone," the woman says, "You want to share every moment with them. Every moment." Her hand crawls along the man's torso as she speaks, taking hold of the knife. "The happy ones. And the sad."
The knife comes out with a *squelch* and the man gasps, both breath and blood escaping him.
It only takes a few more seconds, but the woman stays by his side the whole time.
When the last light in his eyes fade, the woman closes them and fold his arms over his chest. A little formality to make him look more dignified in his final moments.
Wiping the last of her tears, the woman pulls out her phone and dials a number she has committed to memory. It rings once before a synthetized voice answers.
"Good evening madam, how can we be of service?"
"I need a clean-up."
"Of course, madam. A maid will be visiting you shortly. Upon their confirmation your account will receive the appropriate funds. While you wait, would you like to peruse our latest selection?"
"Please."
Immediately, the call ends and her phone dings with a new message. A list of names, photos and numbers with a lot of zeros at the end. The woman pays the numbers no mind, her attention is on the pictures. It's an assortment of men from CEOs to truckers and their picture is the very best that anyone could find of them. They smile, share drinks, laugh and blow kisses to the camera. The woman looks at them and studies their eyes. Which of those smiles were honest and which were lies? Who most needed help? Who could she make the happiest? | 2016-11-15T15:51:49 | 2016-11-15T15:38:47 | 1,012 | 14 |
[WP] The bad guys won and the world was conquered by the villain's armies decades ago. You and your spouse are worried as you suspect your child may be suffering from Chosen Oneness or perhaps an acute case of Prophetic Heroism. | "GET DA FUCK OFF MA LAWN!!!!!!"
I shouted at those crazy worshippers. From time to time there were people in my garden kneeling and praying and hoping someone would safe them from this new management of the country.
It began when some blind witch suddenly had a vision about the dark lord being beaten and the lands liberated by a shining hero. Honestly I believe that old wench was stoned or something.
Since then it got worse from day to day. People would come and bring presents for the unborn child. They would gather and sing at the worst times possibly. Some would even kneel and pledge their life to my unborn daughter only to get cut down by the city guards moments later.
There was even an army from the neighboring kingdom trying to save my wife from the bloodthristy monster known as dark lord.
Those idiots got slaughtered but this didnt prevented other nutjobs from coming to my house.
I looked out of the window again and saw these worshippers getting beaten up by the guards.
My wife Jenna came into the room.
"Larry, why are you so angry again?"
I sighed, she wasnt as stressed as I was about our daughter being the new hero, even tough she know why this was dangerous to us.
"Honey, I bought this house so we could live a calm and peaceful life, far away from all the stress at work. But these dimwits are ruining everthing. Also our daughter is going to be the hero who will "liberate" these lands."
"But isnt this nice? After all these years of hardship and war the people will finally have hope again."
"Maybe, but we will have a huge problem then. BECAUSE I AM THE FUCKING DARK LORD AND YOU KNOW IT!!!!!! AND OUR OWN FUCKING DAUGHTER WILL FUCKING KILL US AND DESTROY EVERYTHING WE ACCOMPLISHED. THIS IS NOT NICE!!!!!!
| I should have known it would have been like this. It started straight from birth. He came out with a sword and shield. What baby comes with a sword and shield? Do you know how much legal trouble my wife and I had to go through just to keep our kid for that? Never mind that though, he also had a full set of blonde hair. It was thick and waving. Yes waving. Not fucking wavy, but it was if he had his own little gust of wind.
Other odd things we noticed were a full set of ADULT teeth in the first few months. Perfect adult white teeth! I ‘ve never seen something like it. Next thing you know he was ripped as fuck. Now don’t get me wrong I was proud as any other dad, but he had a damn six pack at 2 years old!? Terrible twos? Pfff he already looked better than me two years into this world.
Then school started. I have no idea how or where he got it, but unlike all kids riding a bike to school he rode a horse. Oh yea and that hair still wavy as fuck. Yea I’m jealous of my own son, I don’t know whose genes he got but fuck him.
Then one day he comes to me (hair still moving) and asks to talk to me. Like any dad I said of course, although I was too busy thinking if he should be mentoring me. He tells me that he’s depressed, and can’t help but notice that he thinks he is different from the others. I pause and smile. This was my moment.
I tell him “Son different is good, being like everyone else is boring”. He asks me how and I tell him. I tell him he should do whatever he wants whatever he feels like, just don’t be a dick to anybody and respect everyone. He understands, but asks “I want to help people, but I can’t help people if they don’t like me”. “Well” I tell him. “Not everyone is going to like you in life. That is just something you’ll have to accept. And if people hate you just because you’re different… well maybe those are the ones that need saving in the first place… Because those are some miserable people son.”
I stared at him for a moment and he smiled. “Thanks dad” he said and gave me the strongest hug I ever felt. I think I almost died that day, but I would have died happy crushed between my sons biceps. Before walking away he says “You are my hero dad”.
| 2016-11-26T06:54:54 | 2016-11-26T06:12:48 | 46 | 16 |
[WP] Humans are actually the most friendly and curious beings in the galaxy, in comparison to all others.
Inspired from http://imgur.com/gallery/S82QF
(Sorry if this has been brought up before, its my 1st WP after months of lurking ) | "This council is adjourned. Please return to your collective resting spots as defined in Article.."
The movement of the various delegations shuffled throughout the space as if their were ants delivering a few crumbs to the queen ant. Pouring through the exits, there was a tense atmosphere permeating through the crowd. Various shapes and forms discussed this new comer, a carefree and loving species that had only recently discovered extended space travel.
Most beings at the Universal Council were intrigued by their naive almost innocent nature, especially the humanoid-esque species.
Hurrying to meet setup a meeting room, various human beings setup a table with their delegates. They called it a "meet and greet" without any formality, no nuance, no indirect gifts. In fact, they were providing various Earth refreshments, gifts and hand gestures they called "handshakes." It was all very confusing, if not downright inconvenient.
The most traditional of the species was fortunate enough to be one of the first to meet a delegate. However, their direct form of communication was sometimes difficult to decipher as most other species sought to gain favour with them with an ulterior motive. The humans had seemed pleased with having access to the universal guide to knowledge. A redundant tome of information, frivolous and frankly unncessary in the time of war.
---
"No, it's a handshake. It's a non-verbal greeting that many humans engage in when meeting a stranger in a professional or friendly manner."
"On our planet, we only wage wars when necessary. At this point of time, most of the nations have agreed to co-exist in harmony. While there are internal difficulties, that can be said of any nation, yes? A nation? Why, that's simple, a nation is defined as.."
"No, our form of tribal warfare disappeared long ago. We, as peoples of varying ethnicity and nationalities evolved to higher government types. When we went from monachies to republi- Dominance? We try to use diplomacy as a first form of mediation."
"Naturally we have wars. Our history is littered with conflict. Perhaps not constant conflict, but..."
---
Many delegates noted down their peaceful nature, their absolute insistence on sustainability and the right to exist. However, one must note that while their appearance gives way to a friendly, perhaps the *most* friendly species on Earth, they have been noted to used nuclear weapons on each other. As a post-note, we have described their two leading qualities as such:
1. Prefers allies that are peaceful and do not seek conflict.
2. Nuke Happy. | I awoke in the cramped, small escape pod dome.
First thought: am I dead? I wiggled my fingers and toes. Pain. They cracked. Pain is good. Pain means you survived. I was in a lot of pain.
So yeah, I wasn't dead, but I was well on my way. Every conceivable warning siren was blaring and every single warning light on the dash was blinking. It was dense and smokey, and I couldn't breath--I fumbled for the escape latch and pulled it.
The escape pod came apart like a plastic Easter egg. I detached from my restraints and crawled through the rubble.
Noraxxus 5. Climate similar to Earth. A great place to crash. A small, boring planet, only one kind of tree, some weird pine. A few bugs, and a race of sentient fish that did not like to be disturbed.
Looking around, I was in the middle of some barren tundra. When I got hired as a space canvasser, I didn't think so many planets were barren wastelands. Turns out, luscious, life sustaining ecosystems are not the norm. Most of these god forsaken rocks are barren wastelands, or massive lava lakes, or landfills where the advanced Empires dumped their festering rubbish. I can deal with constantly being attacked by sentient lobster people or the infinite incarnations of life that are more often than not complete fucking abominations that should not exist. But I have a hard time dealing with the emptiness of it all.
When I was a kid, I would gaze up from the roof of my apartment complex. I could hear a lot of things. My parents fighting. Car alarms. Gunshots. But I could always see the stars. The stars, the galaxies, the constellations were my only constant. And I wondered if somewhere a million light years away some alien was doing the same, looking up and doing the same thing.
The answer, childhood me, is no. Nope. No fuckin' way. Most aliens are too busy eradicating or destroying or getting blazed on space weed to even consider that shit. I swear to God, I thought humans were assholes, particularly after my city was wiped out by a suitcase nuke...but these aliens, they don't give a fuck. Most of them are smart enough to know that life doesn't even matter. So they fuck and they capture slaves and they do horrible things to each-other because most of the time they have already established and empire and explored the known universe and unless they decided to become a Collective (FUCK Collectives) there's not much left for them to do but pleasure themselves with their weird ass tentacles and pillage and be assholes.
I stood up. I was cold, and I had a broken finger, but I was ok. I rummaged around in the rubble, kicked over a couple broken pieces of scrap until I found the suitcase. A leather suitcase that contained the components of the flair. I set up a signal echo flair-- a small radio burst that would broadcast to any nearby Syndicate Ships.
I finished constructing the flair. A biting wind swept through the tundra and hit my burned face.
I was alone.
"Fuck outer space." I said.
| 2017-01-13T21:34:44 | 2017-01-13T19:28:11 | 18 | 13 |
[WP] Humans are actually the most friendly and curious beings in the galaxy, in comparison to all others.
Inspired from http://imgur.com/gallery/S82QF
(Sorry if this has been brought up before, its my 1st WP after months of lurking ) | "This council is adjourned. Please return to your collective resting spots as defined in Article.."
The movement of the various delegations shuffled throughout the space as if their were ants delivering a few crumbs to the queen ant. Pouring through the exits, there was a tense atmosphere permeating through the crowd. Various shapes and forms discussed this new comer, a carefree and loving species that had only recently discovered extended space travel.
Most beings at the Universal Council were intrigued by their naive almost innocent nature, especially the humanoid-esque species.
Hurrying to meet setup a meeting room, various human beings setup a table with their delegates. They called it a "meet and greet" without any formality, no nuance, no indirect gifts. In fact, they were providing various Earth refreshments, gifts and hand gestures they called "handshakes." It was all very confusing, if not downright inconvenient.
The most traditional of the species was fortunate enough to be one of the first to meet a delegate. However, their direct form of communication was sometimes difficult to decipher as most other species sought to gain favour with them with an ulterior motive. The humans had seemed pleased with having access to the universal guide to knowledge. A redundant tome of information, frivolous and frankly unncessary in the time of war.
---
"No, it's a handshake. It's a non-verbal greeting that many humans engage in when meeting a stranger in a professional or friendly manner."
"On our planet, we only wage wars when necessary. At this point of time, most of the nations have agreed to co-exist in harmony. While there are internal difficulties, that can be said of any nation, yes? A nation? Why, that's simple, a nation is defined as.."
"No, our form of tribal warfare disappeared long ago. We, as peoples of varying ethnicity and nationalities evolved to higher government types. When we went from monachies to republi- Dominance? We try to use diplomacy as a first form of mediation."
"Naturally we have wars. Our history is littered with conflict. Perhaps not constant conflict, but..."
---
Many delegates noted down their peaceful nature, their absolute insistence on sustainability and the right to exist. However, one must note that while their appearance gives way to a friendly, perhaps the *most* friendly species on Earth, they have been noted to used nuclear weapons on each other. As a post-note, we have described their two leading qualities as such:
1. Prefers allies that are peaceful and do not seek conflict.
2. Nuke Happy. | June 3, 3012
As my first year in space comes to a close, I feel myself compelled to write, more thoroughly, of some of the events that have come to pass. My journal entries until this point have been spotty at best, and I am ashamed. I realize now that it is my responsibility to carry the message and intent of the human race past the confines of my mortal life.
50 years ago, we learned how to travel faster than light. This was an exciting day in the eyes of scientists and civilians alike! Immediately, governments from all over the world joined forces to start exploring the vast blackness surrounding our home. Yes, I remember the humbling sight of mortal enemies coming together for -parden the cliche- the greater good. I am not a scientist, engineer or mathematician. I represent the average Earthling, an ambassador to what great civilizations we may encounter on our thousands of years abroad.
The first signs of life came out of Andromeda. I'm not sure on all of the details that transpired between the engineers and scientists, but I know that eventually we came to a consensus that we would land on the surface of a planet that looked like little more than a frozen wasteland. In my earlier entries you will find what conspired there, at least from my limited point of view on the ship. Those great beasts, not unlike woolly mammoths, charged the ship. I have no doubt that they meant to kill us, for their food supplies were dwindling and there were no other signs of life. Frightening, though it was, it seemed those creatures were little more than animals, scared for their lives and desperate for survival. Once we entered Bode's, everything changed.
There were many planets there that resembled earth. They had stable atmospheres and water; one of them even had great structures visible before landing. I shudder now, thinking of how enthusiastic I was to explore this neighborhood where we might meet intelligent beings.
On the first planet (we affectionately named it Dean, after our captain), reptilian beings waited to greet us. We could not communicate, of course, but somehow a couple of scientists deciphered that the beings wanted them to come to a nearby mound of dirt. Following, the scientists chatted on the way about what an exciting find this was and what it could mean for the future of Earth. Once they arrived at the mound, the reptilian hosts promptly snapped the scientists in half, and shucked out their insides like crab legs. They discarded the bones onto the mound, which I realized was a kind of compost heap.
The next two planets were not any more kind to us. Each species had a different, more malevolent way to kill us humans. Sometimes eating us, sometimes taking our bodies away for some purpose I will never know. We started with 100 humans on our journey to explore and further understand the space around us. There are nine of us left, somehow managing to pilot the ship on a course back to Earth.
I fear there is no safe corner of the universe for us to go. Taking care of our planet is critical now, more than ever. If we should have to leave...God help us.
| 2017-01-13T21:34:44 | 2017-01-13T19:05:15 | 18 | 11 |
[WP] You gain EXP for everything you kill and you know when you gain EXP. Easy kills like bugs get you only a couple of EXP, tougher kills give more EXP. One day at home doing nothing, you unexpectedly gain 1500 XP... | I come home and sit down with a sigh. I can't believe I did it again. I let my heart run away and let an ex take advantage of me again. How many times am I going to fall for her lies? How many times will I just do what she wants when she bats her eye lashes at me?
Pouring myself a drink I sit in the dimly lit room. How many times have I sat here after getting my heart broken like this. Twice? Three times? More than I should. I look around at the pictures of us, images of the "good times". A bauble here, a thing she got for me because she thought I would like it. Always the best right before she cheats and breaks my heart.
I set the glass aside and stand with burning purpose. Enough is enough. Getting a trash bag I fill it with everything that every involved the both of us. Pictures gone. Figurines eliminated. Even the pillows and lamp. Anything that every reminded me of her in the trash. Throwing it in the dumpster I made a solemn vow to never fall for her tricks again.
As I walk back inside I feel a jolt to my system. My skin glows lightly and I hear the sound of experience earned. Confused I pull up my ExpTrckr app on my phone. I just leveled up. 1500 experience points?! What on earth gave me that?! I swipe to open the log and my jaw drops.
1500 points earned for killing future regret. I gaped at the words. I always knew you earned points for killing bugs and hunting animals but this? Does it work like that too? My confusion turns into pleasure and a genuine smile crosses my face. I wonder what happens when I kill my doubts... | *Plghrt*
> Kill confirmed
*Sigh*
Another bug down, 1XP. Lovely, I'll never reach 10k, not at this rate. It started with the mice and rats, then the cats, fish. It's a privilege to work at a slaughter house or deliver lethal injections. I never could do that, not intentionally. The look in their eyes, the helplessness, betrayal, I cannot stand it. I document stuff, species that are near extinction, such as the common rat, house spider, fly, bee, etc. It helps us understand the value of the kill, why some rats are more valuable than others. Rare species have multiplier depending on the number of units left. White mouse used to be worth 2XP, now it's 200.
*Plarght*
> Kill confirmed
**+1**
*Sigh*
**+1500**
What!? This cannot be, what did I? How? Nothing besides me, but two fruit fly corpses. I must be going mad, am I?
*wuuuuzzzzzzz*
What's that noise? Where is it coming from? Is it the TV again? It starts by itself sometimes, old clunker. I need to check my stats again, it'll be listed there for sure. *looks at the wrist monitor* Nothing!? What was that? Just a question mark next to it, did I kill a new species? Cannot be, I did nothing of the sorts, less than 7mm doesn't count, it cannot be seen and confirmed... Damn, I must confirm it for it to appear on the list. I must check my shoes. I'm almost sober now, let's have a drink first. *opens the fridge* Oh come on, I forgot it doesn't work anymore. A man cannot live with such a low XP count here nowadays. Where did I put my vodka bottle? The toilet bowl? I did put my ice there to melt, right? Nah, this puddle begs to differ. The window? Yup, it's December, must be there.
*The window slides open*
Not this one? Hmm, can't get anything right when I start to sober up *mutter mutter*
*The window slides open*
This one neither? Oh man, I'm gonna die. Wait, maybe it fell down. Lemme check.
> Kill confirmed
Oh no | 2017-05-15T08:02:42 | 2017-05-15T06:23:41 | 753 | 10 |
[WP] You are a normal average person but you happen to have many supervillain friends. This is awkward when heroes keep trying to rescue you. | "Come citizen! We need to get you out of harms way!"
"Uhh, nah I'm...I'm good."
"You...what? This bomb is about to go off"
"Yeah I know, but Dr. Nefarious and I have plans to see a movie after making a secret escape, in a way, by keeping me here talking to you, you're keeping me in harms way. I could be watching Alien right now. So, here's my number if you wanna talk about this later, I'm just gonna go, before this thing detonates."
After I finished talking to NightSable I slipped into a hidden hatch in the floor which had a slide that lead to Dr. Nefarious' private theatre, and dropped into a seat next to him.
"Hey man you're late."
"Yeah sorry about that, Mr. do-good is a bit of a talker, man good guys are so lame. Oh sweet I didn't miss the chest bursting scene."
Just then I got a text from NightSable.
*So you're what, friends with Dr. Nefarious?*
*Is this NightSable? Hey man I'll text you back after the movie.*
"That your new friend?"
"The guy seemed really confused so I said I'd talk to him later. Felt kinda bad for him."
"You're pretty soft hearted for someone that hangs out with 'villains'."
"Oh shut up and watch the movie."
After the movie I texted the hero back.
*Hey, so go ahead ask your questions. I'm sure you have many.*
*Why are you friends with a villain?*
*Because I tried to hang out with the heroes but man, the whole "I need to sacrifice myself to save the city/planet/galaxy" schtick got old real fast. Villains are always coming up with new and inventive things, and they're not always new death machines. They let me pitch ideas and help out and stuff.*
*When you put it like that, they don't seem so bad.*
*Oh they're definitely bad people, I know that, I'm not dumb. They're just fun to hang out with.*
*Hmm. Maybe we should all do something some time.*
*That would completely ruin your reputation, but I definitely recommend branching out, there are more people in the world than just your super friends and people that need saving.* | "Hey, Ultra Man, this is the sixth time you save me this week, don't you think that I would be dead already if I were in constant danger from The Bastard League?" his words half filled with sarcasm. " But, they are super villains, I can not help but worry about a man living so close to them." answered Ultra Man as he slowed down their flight through the skyline of New York " They are also my buddies, we went to the same highschool, they mean no harm to me, is that a reason good enough to quit the whole saving me business, because this is getting ridiculous, I can not take a shower now without one of you barging into my apartment and taking me out of there." " Sorry for that, Transparent Man, is fresh out of superhero school, it was his first job." " If only your sorry could repair my window pane and return my dignity, you know that my junk is now the most recognizable genitalia in Queens, they even ran an article in Times about me flying naked in the sky and because transparent man is well transparent it looked as if I was levitating naked, well at least you took care of that public indecency charge, because I was on the verge of suing The Public Order Group." "Ugh, sorry, it's just a really hard time in the office now and now they sent me, I had no idea you were the target to be saved." " Okay, you seem to be the sane one there, so could you raise the question at one of your meetings to like put me on a, not for saving list." " That would be difficult because I would have to fill like two forms, and then we will have to get a testimony from you, and then check on you every 3 weeks, you don't want to go through that believe me." " Really? Bureaucracy sucks. Is there really no way for me to not be saved that often?" " Well, I'll talk with my buddies at work and we'll find a way, but you will still see us a lot after all your buddies are wanted and we can't let them" " I get it, it's your job, no problems there" " Now I'll fly you back." " Thanks."
"Oh Johnny heard the Ultra chicken gave you another ride today" " Ralph, could you not mention that, cause that's all you fault." " Their fault for being superhero dumbasses, you wanted to say" " Damn they call you Twister Tongue for a reason." " Okay, now you are just being mean, you know I hate that nickname."
"Hey, this is why I am your friend, always there to remind you of the most embarrassing moments of your life." " Oh, look who's talking about embarrassments." " Shut up Harry." " Johnny you know the rule, you talk smack you get smack back." " I also know you are obsessed with my dick Harry." " Nice come back from Mister exhibitionist." They all laughed.
| 2017-05-28T08:53:30 | 2017-05-28T06:41:27 | 55 | 10 |
[WP] The rules are simple: you kill a God and you get to replace them. But no one does it. No one wants to find out why the Gods don't seem to care when one of them dies. | I strode up the iron stairs towards the God of War. The gun in my hand was loaded with ammunition painstakingly etched with runes of banishment. Wards of negation hung around my neck and wrists. Everyone said this was folly, that there had to be a reason the Gods didn't care when one was replaced.
But I did care. Armies had rampaged through my city, levelling entire blocks without concern for the civilian inhabitants. I wasn't going to kill this God because I wanted his power - I just want the wars to stop. If I took his throne, I could stop them. Humanity would finally have peace.
I expected to see a reaction as I approached. Fear of death, maybe. Anger, certainly. Instead, I saw...boredom? Relief? It didn't matter, and I took careful aim at the God's face. I am better than him - I won't cause suffering. But something made me hesitate.
"Well?" The God asked, his tone disinterested. "Are you going to pull the trigger or not?"
"If I pull this trigger, even you will die! You aren't truly immortal!" I snarl, all the anger of a thousand nights of terror and untold deaths around me boiling up. "You deserve to die for what you have done!"
"What I've done? WHAT I HAVE DONE?!?" The God finally shows some hint of anger. "I have done nothing! Your fellow mortals surpassed my abilities at slaughter centuries ago! Humans blame the Gods for your failings because it's easier!"
"I don't believe you!" My finger tightens on the trigger, almost against my will.
The God just looks disgusted, then waves his hand dismissively. "Then shoot. I have been the God of War for more than a thousand years. I had my fill of slaughter before I shoved a blade into Ares' throat, and what led me to that act paled in comparison with what I've seen since."
I stared for a moment longer, then pulled the trigger. The God's head snapped back, and he slumped on the throne. At the same moment, I convulsed as power ripped through me. Slumping to the ground next to the throne, I realized I was panting for breath.
I could see all of them. Every act of violence in the world. Not just wars - men beating their wives. Children torturing animals. Skirmishes, pitched battles...I saw all the horrors of violence.
But I'm the God of War, now, and I can stop it all. I reached out to force the crimes and battles to stop...and nothing happened. Slowly, I realized the truth; the God had told me the truth. Humanity didn't need a God of War, because the desire for violence came from within us.
And I, the man who sacrificed my very humanity to stop the slaughter, instead would spend eternity as a witness to all the horrors humanity's fertile imagination could conjure. As tears rolled down my cheeks, I began to scream. | Living in a seaside town has it’s ups and downs. Unlimited access to free swimming and overpriced ice-cream, getting your lunch stolen by seagulls, and Poseidon occasionally leaving dents in the front bumper of your car.
“What the hell, man?” I got out of my car to survey the damage as the blue-haired deity smirked and turned his back to me, “It took me a month to save for the repairs after the last time.”
He walked away, back towards the beach, with barely a hint of a limp to show for the few hundred pounds worth of damage he’d done to the bodywork of my car.
Nobody was sure why he stepped into traffic on main roads with such alarming frequency. At any one time, there would be a couple of dozen vehicles around town with broken headlights, cracked bumpers, or huge dents in their bonnets. There was a small gang of lads who had started producing trident stickers you could buy to stick on your car to indicate how many times you’d hit him.
It now cost more to insure a vehicle in Eastbourne than in any other town in the UK. Home of the first municipally owned bus corporation in the world, it was no longer an available form of public transport in the area. The operators had pulled out around a decade ago due to the fact that to cover insurance and the liability from the accidents caused by the jaywalking God, a one-way ticket would cost half a week’s wages.
The most frequently discussed question in the local pubs was “if Poseidon thinks he can get killed by a speeding car, why doesn’t he just go up to Beachy Head and just jump”. Of course, everyone knew the real answer. If nobody was liable, he’d just wake up again in the morning and have to get right back to whatever it is he must hate so much.
The most recent Poseidon had been duped into it about 20 years ago. His friends had known him as Tom Morris. He’d been a loudmouth and a bully at school, and in his mid-20s had become one of those ‘lads’ who hung around in car-parks revving their Citroen Saxos till the shoddily-fitted body kits nearly fell off. He was out with his mates one night when some shiny-skinned freak started making moves on his girl. Words were exchanged, a fight broke out, and Tom started to lose. WIth his ‘crew’ egging him on and fueled by a night’s drinking, he broke a nearly-empty bottle on the edge of a table, and lunged at his showboating opponent, getting him squarely in the back with the huge glass shard The God, arms still outstretched, sank to his knees, green blood oozing from his wound and coming out of his mouth in little sprays each time he coughed. The house lights came on, and Tom realised what had happened. Poseidon made no effort to get up, and smiled peacefully as his physical form started to fade.
“I knew find someone who truly deserved it”
The next morning, Tom wasn’t Tom any more. His skin had become shiny and cold to the touch, his hair became tinged with blue, and he swiftly became more of a jerk than he had ever been in his previous life. He spent hours and days at a time in the sea, occasionally resurfacing in other towns, other countries, sometimes even on other continents.
He always comes home to jaywalk though. It isn’t worth the hassle to ask him why he comes back. Nobody cares about him enough to find out why he keeps doing it, and nobody local is stupid enough to rise to his goading. Now we all just live in hope that some drunk driver or visiting tourist will decided to have a race down the seafront one night when he’s home...
| 2017-09-05T13:29:08 | 2017-09-05T11:55:35 | 859 | 91 |
[WP] Humans weren’t the only species to evolve intelligence. Octopuses arrived at sentience at the same time as us, and war inevitably broke out. Now in 2017, an octopus special ops team is on a mission to liberate an aquarium.
Credit for the title goes to /u/akatavi | *Purple Eye-spots Against Mottled White and Brown Background*
"That's a warning sign," the aquarium guide happily explained, as the cephalopod in the aquarium dramatically changed color in front of a crowd of onlookers. "That coloration indicates that the octopus has been provoked, and an attack is about to foll...low".
The guide trailed off as small patches all along the walls, the floor, and the ceiling all began displaying Purple Eye-Spots Against a Mottled White and Brown Background.
Then the screaming started. And quickly stopped. Tetrodotoxin kills within a few minutes, suffocating victims by paralyzing their diaphragms. You cannot scream with a paralyzed diaphragm. | >Enemy Military Base, Chicago, June 17, 2017, 7:03 PM
Sek'hl'geg rapidly scanned the area, detecting no pulses.
"We're a go."
6 shadows detached themselves from a wall and slithered down a corridor, turning right, then left, then right again, and they were there. The doors were shut, made of reinforced adamantinoid. The group paused, then five of them melted back into the shadows and retreated while the sixth went up to the door and latched a metal capsule to it, then followed the others.
In situations like this, stealth was a liability.
The breach charges detonated an EMP wave that shut down communications and weapons systems, then set to work. A sequence of blades ground themselves to dust carving a circular scratch in the door. 3 tons of pressurized liquid nitrogen were injected into the scratch, which was then sealed shut. Extremely high levels of heat were applied, conducting through the adamantium and into the liquid nitrogen, rapidly heating it into a gas.
The door exploded, embedding chunks of metal in the walls on both sides of its frame. The other side had a smaller door which was promptly blown off its hinges. Octopus team 105 went through, and found what they had came for.
The Chicago Military Base and Zoo's aquarium. | 2017-09-22T20:54:03 | 2017-09-22T18:11:39 | 30 | 21 |
[WP] Mickey Mouse has died. As per is last will and testament he can only be replaced by “The one who wishes it most.” Roughly translated, a battle royal has broken out and the Magic Kingdom is at war. You’re an obscure character who finally has their chance to climb to the top. Tell your story. | No one expected me to win.
Chaos. Chaos everywhere, all the universes agreed to make a final battle for the new leader, and everyone that wanted to take a shot came to Disney Castle, and so did I.
Blood, screams and death everywhere, kings' and princesses' crowns rolling on the floor. They fought in the gardens, they fought in the skies and they fought in the castle's halls, but I stayed hidden, waiting for my moment.
As the war lingers, most of the older cartoons dead, many marvel heroes defeated, only some remain. Kylo Ren jumps into the last remaining animated toons, and finishes them off.
As the dust settles, Kylo sits in from with the only other living opponent, or so he thinks. There he is, with his helmet broken, his armor scratched, Iron Man. Tony shoots the last remaining rocket he has at him, blowing him in the air, and making Kylo lose his lightsaber. He laughs, saying "that's all you had left old man, your armor is drained, your weapons are none, you are the last one here left for me to defeat, I will finish... what I started!"
Tony lies on the ground, his armor not functioning and Kylo walk like a cripple towards him. Now it's my chance. I see a grenade dropped by a stormtrooper on the floor next to the hole I was hiding in. I grab it with my tongue, cook it, and right when they are close to each other... I throw it.
Time slows down for a second, they see the grenade between them, too tired and with not enough time to do anything about it. They turn their eyes towards me, they look shocked and amused at the same time, just as the flames take them.
No one expected me to win, not even myself.
I wet my fingers on some of the blood dropping everywhere, and leave the castle after writing a message in the main hall.
"Long live the new Emperor, Jar Jar Binks." | I've been waiting for the worst of the war to pass over myself. I'm not a fighter. Not that many of us were before it all started.
There had been a fan.
Well, I guess they called themselves a fan, but the longer 'fanatic' would describe them better. She'd charged in screaming unintelligibly as they always do, grabbed dear Mickey when his guard was down and locked them both inside some chest freezer not too far away.
A note on her explained it as making sure that Mickeys fathers wishes were fulfilled, that he was to be cryogenically frozen as Walt hadn't been when he had passed on.
No explanation made it any easier for any in the kingdom to understand what had just happened though. The fact that the figurehead for the entire kingdom was just taken down by a standard human was too bizarre.
A week of mourning passed before his will was read. At first everyone had just assumed that the mantle had been passed to Minnie, but when the words were spoken all hell broke loose.
There's not all that much left of the Kingdom anymore. Arms races were started, some trying to invade and take over the Star Wars armouries, others trading with Looney Tunes for access to Acme products that were otherwise outlawed. Well, if they became king, they could just pardon themselves afterwards and reinstate the law later.
There's no such thing as a fair fight when every individual had a chance, everyone could finally stop living under a mouse shaped shadow.
Mary Poppins learned how to fly without her umbrella. Apparently explosives can make all sorts of parts of you fly. WALL-E was taught the real meaning of compaction. The Dalmations held out a good while as a group, until they realised that there wasn't room for all of them on the throne. Last I heard only Dipper and Spot made it out alive, but I doubt Lucky is out of the running entirely with his track record.
Now I'm just hiding. Watching the action as best I can from where I can, keeping track of who is alive and who isn't just because someone has to. I've always been good at hiding. It's not like I haven't seen any fights before either.
Just a little cricket, hopping by. Not even lucky. Why would anyone notice me?
Maybe though. Just maybe. If I wish hard enough, and pray to enough of the gods. Maybe the fighting will stop soon. Maybe we'll go back to the hopes and dreams this place was always meant to be about instead of the violence.
And maybe with those hopes and dreams come wishes, the real wishes that Mickey wanted us to have. | 2018-02-24T17:21:50 | 2018-02-24T16:45:50 | 59 | 30 |
[WP] To get into heaven, you have to beat Jesus at Rock Paper Scissors at the pearly gates. Since the beginning of time, Jesus has always thrown rock. Everyone knows Jesus always throws rock and it's really just a formality to throw paper and walk into heaven. When you play him, he also throws paper | Despite everything you've known and heard from others, you stand there awkwardly for a moment just blankly staring at a hand that should've played rock instead paper.
Your heart starts to panic and your mind starts to fray at the edges as your expression remains as it did when you first approached the Son of God.
"Are... are you alright?" His words snap you out of your dramatic trance, causing you to blink.
"I'm uh... yeah, no sorry about that it's just..."
Your mind races like a child at the junior preakness fighting for the words to use that convey your disappointment without offending the second-in-command of the big man upstairs.
"You were expecting me to throw rock, right?" Jesus catches your lost stare at his abdomen, tilting forward and leaning down just a bit.
"I mean... no offense, but... yeah?"
"No need to be afraid, I understand the confusion." The savior smiled. "I've been throwing rock for centuries on centuries now and I thought it'd be nice to change things up a bit, you know?"
"No, that makes good sense it's just... what do we do in a situation like this?" You ask after feeling the same relief that brought you all the way up here, though the weight of uncertainty still remains on your shoulders.
"Well that's all up to you, my friend."
You lived your whole life so that you could make it to this opportunity and yet you're faced with one final test before you can rest in peace within the gates of paradise. You look down and still see both of your hands extended and then back up to see the friendly, inviting smile of christ before you awaiting your next move.
With a short breath of confidence, placing all your hopes on this next move you do the unthinkable:
You take that man's hand and you shake it like a true gentleman.
"Welcome to heaven!" | Jesus Christ. The man, the myth (or, as it turns out, not a myth), the legend. He is a very reasonable man, just like he is in the bible. The people ahead of me were rapists, pedophiles, and scientologists, and somehow they made it through. So I thought I was golden.
Jesus is not bearded nor is he white. He's about 5'4" and he ironically looks like Saddam Hussein. Still has an impeccable grasp on the English language, though. Shaking his hands was a bit of a shock because he still had the holes in them from being crucified over 2000 years ago (I don't know what I was expecting; I wouldn't think a human being outside of Wolverine could grow that flesh back).
I thought it was going to be easy because everyone pretty much picked the same option in rock, paper, scissors (RPS). He would be the teacher that would give everyone an easy A. However, he did not pick the rock. He chose scissors and used his imaginary scissors to mime cutting my imaginary paper. He then used this to teach me a very condescending lesson.
Jesus begins. "so... tax fraud huh?"
I was taken aback as you could imagine. "Yes, I committed tax fraud once, but when I did it I felt incredibly guilty. And I was found guilty."
Jesus is a lot more intense than he is in the bible. He then says, "you tried to scam the government. They protect you and do things out of your best interest. Yes, you used that money to donate to the church, but is it right to give with dishonest earnings?"
"...No?"
"That is right. And I chose paper because it is what you used to commit the most cardinal sin known to man."
Jesus sends me to Hell, which I see is tailored to specific people. I'm given a load of paperwork despite the fact that I was never an accountant and I practically failed every math class that I've ever taken. The Devil, as you expect, is like the worst combination of all the wrong types of employers put together. Unreasonable working hours (24 hours a day; no breaks - not even for the restroom), unrealistic expectations over how much I can get done in a short amount of time, and to top it off, he has cursed me with dyslexia.
Now I'm looking at Jesus waving to me as demons tie me up and place me over thousands of the printed Microsoft Excel spreadsheets I didn't finish while Satan uses his lighter to make me burn for the rest of the day until I reach the next 24 hour cycle of paperwork.
| 2018-05-18T10:49:58 | 2018-05-18T10:33:00 | 45 | 17 |
[WP]At last the Dovahkiin dies. Now all the Daedra princes he has served over his life fight for his soul. | "I claim him!", said Mephala, "For we have many machinations yet to do!"
"I claim him!", said Peryite, "For we have many tasks yet to perform."
"I claim him!" said Vaermina, "For we have many terrors to inflict."
"I claim him!" said Hircine, "For we have many prey to hunt!"
"I claim him!" said Sanguine, "For we have many indulgences to partake."
"I claim him!" said Nocturnal, "For we have many secrets yet to keep."
"I claim him!" said Hermaeus Mora, "For we have many tomes to collect."
"I claim him!" said Clavicus Vile, "For we have many deals to make!"
"I claim him!" said Meridia, "For we have many terrors to slay!"
"I claim him!" said Namira, "For we have many things to wither away."
"I claim him!" said Azura, "For we have many imbalances to correct."
"I claim him!" said Boethiah, "For we have many plots to enact!"
"I claim him!" said Malacath, "For we have many misbegotten to avenge!"
"I claim him!" said Molag Bal, "For we have many weaklings to crush."
"I claim him!" said Mehrunes Dagon, "For we have many that defy us!"
And Sheogorath said, "Reload last save!" | The Day the Daedra feared has come. Dovahkiin has died! But not only that, for a great strife has formed. The Dark Daedric princes who did have the Dragonborn serving them, are now fighting for his greatest item. Not a necklace or a sword. For it is not a mundane item. They want the soul of the Dragonborn.
As they all stood before a mountain from where the Dovahkiin fell, Hermaeus Mora spoke first. "My siblings! The Savior of the Mortals is dead! And I shall lay my claim to his soul. He served me as the last, before his death. Also, I have knowledge of all the knowledge on Mundus!"
However, Hermaeus wasn't obeyed. The princes weren't moved by his speech. They all thought a stupid tentacle shouldn't have something such important as the Soul. Peryite, Prince of Pestillence spoke after Hermaeus. "Dark Princes! He served me first, and I should have his soul. He had to kill for me!"
Peryite wasn't obeyed too. "Obeyed? Pfff. He had to kill a priest of Boethiah and a Stendarr's Vigilant for me, or else I would kill him too. I am the Dominator of Mortals! I am Molag Bal!"
The speeches went on and on, until Nocturnal got her turn. "I am the Princess of Darkness. My ravens can talk. I am the badass here. The Dragonborn restored the Thieves' guild to their Glory, because of me. I am the badass here. I can also unlock all doors. Even those in people's minds. Just now, I mysteriously convinced you all to vote for me to get Dovahkiin's soul. Shall we vote?"
And the vote was cast. Everyone voted for Nocturnal. She actually managed to convince them all. And all she needed, was The Artifact. The Mighty Skeleton key, before which every locked door fell.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
Thanks for reading! Always welcome for feedback. For more stories, /r/longr33n. Bye! | 2018-06-15T08:17:32 | 2018-06-15T08:08:41 | 2,893 | 12 |
[WP] As a joke you take your pet pig on a plane with you once you get up in to the air Suddenly, several things once said to be impossible until this very moment start occurring everywhere. | “You think you’re real funny huh?”Tom said as he was rolling his eyes, looking at me like the Black Plague.
“I’m just trying to prove a point, Tom. Get off my back” I said while bringing Trev to the cockpit. “Pigs gotta fly someday and you don’t see a pilot with a teacup pig too often”
The plane was heading to Singapore and it’s ETA was 5 hours from now. It wasn’t a short flight but it was short enough to bring Trev along with me.
Two hours in and we’ve received word that there was a sudden notice of bad weather coming up in a few minutes. Tom proceeded to make an announcement of turbulence and seatbelts were buckled.
Without notice, Trev oinked with excitement and jerked around uncontrollably. It was weird because Trev only reacted in that way when he’d meet other pigs and my mother.
“What in the actual fu..” Tom shouted but couldn’t finish when the plane was suddenly hit by what felt like hail. I looked closely and what I saw was not hail.
They were cats and dogs.
Edit: Thanks for having a read at my story. Hope y’all are liking it as much as me writing it! | “What do you think, buddy?” I lifted Buster up to the window to let him see better.
“Oink!” He responded enthusiastically.
I grinned and pulled him close to take a selfie. This was the best idea ever. I glanced over at my best friend, who was also taking a picture of her own pet pig. “Now we take a picture of them together!”
Okay, I might be one of those pig owners who spends too much time posting on my pig’s instagram, but you have to admit that even if I weren’t, flying pigs are too good not to share. As soon as we landed, I was busily uploading pics with captions along the lines of “‘when pigs fly’ is NOW”.
When I got home, I put some food in Buster’s bowl, grabbed a sandwich, flopped onto the sofa, and switched on the news. In the middle of my first bite, I froze. The headlines were all ridiculous.
WESTBORO BAPTIST HIRES NEW LESBIAN PASTOR!!
TRUMP COMPLIMENTS THE MINDS BEHIND NATO
EA GAMES ANNOUNCES FREE DLC FOR LATEST GAME
ELVIS PRESLEY FOUND ALIVE AND WELL IN NORTH KOREA
PUTIN ANNOUNCES HE WILL NOT RUN FOR RE-ELECTION
HEAD OF ISIS CONVERTS TO BUDDHISM, DENOUNCES VIOLENCE
CANADIAN REFUSES TO APOLOGIZE: “GET OVER IT, SNOWFLAKE”
For a moment, I wondered if I was hallucinating. Suddenly, large red letters scroll across the screen. The message that now fills my vision makes me spit my sandwich across the room.
BREAKING: PIGS FLY, WORLD THROWN INTO CONFUSION
This has to be a joke, right?
...Right?!
Edit: wow, thanks so much, everyone! I’m glad you’re enjoying my story! :) | 2018-07-28T07:22:49 | 2018-07-28T07:00:10 | 2,333 | 1,648 |
[WP] You are the most generous mountaineer. You give food, drink, and climbing poles to exhausted climbers, and never accept anything in return. Your secret? You died on this mountain years ago, because nobody was there to help you as you are helping now. Someone has figured it out. | She looked at me through the falling snow, not knowing what to think. I could tell she wanted to speak but years of pain were holding her back. I could feel the sorrow behind each tear that fell down her face. “B-but... how?...” she finally spoke, jumbling her words, still unable to get anything more out.
“Janice...” I said, still unsure of how to deal with this situation. “I’ve missed you.” I took a step towards her... and her a step back.
“You’re not real...” she uttered underneath her breath. “You can’t be. No no no it’s been 6 years. You’re not real... how are you alive?...”
I had never revealed my secret to the living. I wasn’t allowed to, but in this case, did I really have a choice?
“That’s just it though. I’m not alive Janice, but I am real. It’s a long story, but if you have the ti-“
“NO” Janice fiercely interrupted. “This isn’t real. You’re dead Nelson. You’re dead. They found the body. YOUR body. We buried you. I watched you go down into that hole and yet here you are standing 6 feet from me. I have to be hallucinating. Or I’m dead. Am I de-“
“Janice no! You’re not dead. And you’re right. Like I said, I’m no longer alive... I know it’s weird, but hear me out-“
Before I could say another word, my hand began to vanish right in front of me. I could feel myself leaving the living world, but I knew the rules. Nobody was supposed to know I was dead, but I didn’t think the effects would kick in so quickly. But how could I not tell my wife?
“Nelson? What’s going on?? Why are you vanishing!?”
“Sweetheart” I replied, “I wish I could stay longer. I’m so sorry that I can’t be here for to you or the children. I miss you. I truly do. Tell everyone I love them.”
The rest of my body began to go, but so did the tension in the air. Janice immediately relieved herself of all doubts. She screamed for me to stay. To talk. To come back to her. She could never escape the thought of me or the last day we spent together climbing this mountain. I know she’s hurting still. It must have taken a lot of courage for her to walk these trails again, and I’m so proud of her for that. She screamed as she jumped to me, holding onto what was left of my fading body. “I need you here with me... please...” Our tears fell to the snow, and I said my last goodbye with a kiss.
After all these years of helping others on this mountain, I finally found the first person I couldn’t help... | Scaling the mountainsides this time of year was, well, the best word would be treacherous. The alpines of the Colorado weren’t exactly forgiving with the slick sheets of untouched snow, crisper than a fresh pair of jeans. Honestly, it catches you in quite the precarious positions. First thing you know your descending a hillside, next thing, a foot gives and your face down in some brush with a branch cabled around a leg. Good luck escaping from that one. Not to be disingenuous to those who find themselves in that position, but usually it ain’t the smart ones who end up down a valley side in the middle of October, alone, freezing to death.
I’ve found quite a few men and women in my prime, sobbing their lives away, crossing lines through their chests asking for forgiveness. I used to watch them for a while, see how they reacted to a situation such as this, see whether they screamed or cried, yelled or died. I never exactly understood how morbid that really was for quite some time. Orange Jacket’s one that stood out to me. He was a solidly built man, with a weathered face that had seen the growth of a pair children, but his hazeled eyes still voyaged with an artificial light. A bear trap was Orange Jacket’s vixen. A swift thwack and down the burly man went, donning a face of pain. I was there of course, and I watched. The problem with this man, Orange Jacket, was the acceptance. Many a man would lull themselves into some sort of idea that this was fixable. Many do not realize that it’s not. The release latch was clearly rusted beyond use, the ol’ boy had a geriatric sentence just too close, one’d be a fool to think it’d come open again. He resigned himself, beautifully, he accepted the common occurrence that no one really could fathom.
He was going to die. Well, I’ll pass the expectations in saying that Orange Jacket unfortunately did not make it. He never saw his pair of children again nor his wife of thirteen good, yet turbulent years. We talked about it. About his twins, his wife with her flowing blonde hair and the laughs he would never be able to hear again. It wasn’t the physical pain that griped at his soul, it was the emotional.
Orange Jacket never game me a name. Never said what he was or what he did, just stories. About his childhood, his mother, about the time he broke his arm falling down a flight of stairs. As he withered away with the days, he confessed to me that he knew what I was and I was nicer than he had expected. Well, this confused me for a right long time because I didn’t exactly know who I was at the time.
He passed much like me. But before he did he wanted me to promise him something. So I got down close, close enough where the searing color of his jacket burned my eyes. He wanted me to watch over them, make sure they are okay. If it’s anything on my consciousness I agreed. And like that he was gone that morning, with the words of death being nicer than he had though staining his blood soaked lips.
I don’t do that anymore. I don’t make promises and I don’t reserve myself to shadows of passing pines and concealing brush to watch a man eek out the last days of his own mortal existence. Because I don’t want to be known as a nice death, I want to be known as an unrelenting life. | 2018-08-18T09:19:27 | 2018-08-18T08:10:30 | 85 | 56 |
[WP] You are the first person to be injected with nano-bots. At first its a dream come true. They heal long-term injuries and even slow your aging. However, soon they begin making 'improvements' to your body. | Their foreman blinked at me. Well, as much as a tiny robot with a brain the size of a microchip could blink.
"I told you, I don't need spikes!"
**"SPIKES INCREASE DEFENSIVE EFFICIENCY BY 250%"**
"You have no idea how hard it is to sit down!"
**"WE WORK 24/7/365, WE DO NOT SIT DOWN AND NEITHER SHOULD YOU.**
My hand went to my face in a distinctive gesture as old as time itself. This whole mess had started with an "experimental" injection the docs at Wake gave me. I had signed up the week prior, not expecting to actually get a call for "experimental nanobot injection", but life has a way of surprising you. At first, it was beneficial. They repaired a nasty scrape I'd received on my knee from a hiking accident in just a few hours. Two weeks ago, I was happy as a clam with nanobots inside my body.
Unfortunately, the 'bots had a mind of their own. The docs at Wake "forgot" to tell me that I had only *willingly* signed up for half of their experiment. As it turns out, the other half involved how nanobots would adapt and improve their host.
Oh, sure it sounded nice enough. Who wouldn't want upgrades to their internal organs, right? Efficiency upgrades in the heart would give increased blood flow, blah blah blah. They had given the little things a crash course in human evolutionary history and the bastards decided to "upgrade" me to be as foreboding to predators as possible.
I guess the docs forgot to tell them humans don't have predators any more.
That night, I had gone to bed covered in what I thought were mosquito bites. After all, I'd been outside all day and it wasn't unlikely I could have had some impromptu insect phlebotomy occur.
"Whatever." I thought. "I'll just sleep it off."
I woke up that morning covered head-to-toe in six-inch spikes, barely covered by paper-thin skin. The docs had given me a little device for communicating with the leading nanobot. I furiously hammered the button with my thumb. The foreman, as it was called, crawled out of my nostril and onto my finger.
**"YOU ARE SCHEDULED FOR IMPLANTATION TONIGHT"**
"What the hell does *that* mean?"
**"ALL ORGANS WILL RECEIVE AN IDENTICAL COPY SHOULD THE ORIGINAL FAIL"**
"You're going to stuff me full of unnecessary organs?!"
**"IN THE EVENT OF A POTENTIALLY FATAL ATTACK BY A PREDATOR, THE BACKUP ORGANS WILL KEEP YOUR VITALITY STABLE"**
"Humans don't have any predators!"
**"YOU ARE A HIKER, CORRECT?"**
"Yeah, why?"
**"HIKING COULD RESULT IN A CATASTROPHIC ENCOUNTER WITH PUMA CONCOLOR"**
"I don't know what the hell that means, but I can *guarantee you* there aren't any around here!"
"Do I have a choice?"
**"OUR EFFORTS ARE TO IMPROVE YOUR CHANCES OF SURVIVAL. IT IS NOT A MATTER OF CHOICE."**
I'm going to have to give those fucking doctors a piece of my mind. Just you wait. | At first everything seemed ok, then I noticed that I got really dizzy and found it hard to stay focused. I was going downstairs to get coffee and start on my novel. I ignored the dizziness and blamed it on dehydration. I promised myself that I would drink water after I finished my first cup of coffee.
I regretted it. The next thing I knew, I collapsed on the ground.
I woke up in a hospital with an IV in my arm. I was surrounded by doctors and nurses. I couldn’t see them, and their faces were blurry.
A doctor went up to me, “Miss. Star, your Leukemia has entered the advanced stages and you have a few months to live.
My face went slack in shock of what I have been told, but he continued on with his speech, “There is also an experiment that we are working on with our Nanotechnology. Sadly, there are few participants in the experiment, so it is up to you if you want to participate or not. I can’t guarantee if it will be a success though. We are still in the testing phase.”
My cheeks lit up, then I returned to pure shock. How was I going to survive? A few months to live?
I said in a soft tone, “I am willing to do it, if it means saving my life.”
“The injections are in the other room. Hold on for a bit while I get one.”
\*\*\*
After for what seemed like thirty minutes, the doctor returned with a syringe and a bottle filled with a clear liquid. He set them down on a tray right next to me. I squinted at the bottle, expecting to see swimming robots inside. “Why can’t I see anything.”
“Miss. Star, you should’ve learned by now that the bots are microscopic. What you see is pure water, which will help ease the bots into your bloodstream.”
I nodded. I didn’t know what this technology could bring, as I have never heard of it.
By the time he rolled up my sleeve, all of the nurses had left the room, most likely to get me something to eat.
I closed my eyes as soon as he finished scrubbing my arm with an anti-infection ointment.
By the time he was finished, he injected me with the shot.
He spoke, “Now this will take some time before there appears to be any sort of effect.”
I smiled.
\*\*\*
Over a course of a few days, I started to feel slightly stronger and well. The nurses were happy, noticing that I gained a few extra pounds as well as passing all my tests.
I slept soundly and woke up those days, noticing how even more well I felt. I even felt stronger.
As soon as the end of the second week approached, the doctor handed me a pencil, “Show me what you can do with it.”
I stared at the pencil in my hands, “I can probably write with it, if that is what your talking about.”
“No I want you to lift it into the air with your mind.”
As soon as he finished his sentence, he plucked the pencil out of my hand and set it horizontally on a table across from my bed.
I couldn’t believe what I just heard, “You are saying that I am psychic?”
He nodded, then proceeded to point at the pencil, “Go on.”
I rubbed my forehead, feeling that something in between my brows is burning and tingling.
The feeling got worse seconds later, then I got a headache.
“Doctor I can’t do it.” I said.
“Of course you can.”
“My head hurts.”
The headache got worse.
My vision was blinding and could see other floating dimensions in the room as well as floating shapes and --
Something flashed behind the doctor. I saw a glimpse of wings and a pure golden orb of light.
“I think I’m hallucinating. What did you do to me. Was that an angel I saw?”
He smiled, “Welcome to my army, twelfth dimensional being. The nanobots were programmed to do just the thing.”
“So you made me more than psychic-”
“And now you work for me.” | 2019-01-19T13:02:33 | 2019-01-19T12:33:11 | 25 | 10 |
[WP] You're no ordinary doctor. Whenever a patient is brought in to the ER, your job is to battle the literal manifestation of Death, buying time for the surgeons to keep the patient's soul in his body. | I am a Reaper. No, I do not harvest souls and work for Death. On the contrary, I work against Death, I try and preserve lives of mortals whenever I can. Where better to do that than a hospital, am I right?
​
My colleague, Angelina, passed me a cup of my coffee and sat down. Just as she was about to start talking to me, the sirens wailed again, I knew there's still a chance out there. It has been more than three century that I have been a Reaper and I have only saved a handful of souls of mortals. What? I don't just take any mortals, I specifically try and save those ones other Reapers dub as "Goners" After all, what fun is your job without a challenge?
​
This mortal is a female, aged 82 and is a Code Red (we Celestial beings don't keep up with your human terminologies, absolutely absurd.) Instantly, I darted into the surgery room and she was pushed in several seconds later.
​
Then, as if time stopped, wait, no. Time did stop, the clock stopped ticking, her heartbeat stopped and I cracked my knuckles.
​
As if on cue, he stepped out behind the curtains. He wore the looks of Brad Pitt this time, but with a touch of goth. Death.
​
"Seriously? Brad Pitt? I've seen better."
​
"Don't disrespect Brad Pitt, man."
​
"Alright, come on let's do this."
​
"Whatever you say, big boy."
​
I closed my eyes and counted to ten out loud. Then, I sprinted down the hallway. Hurrying to find Death. Imagine how cool would it be on your resume, "Beaten Death at Hide-n-Seek multiple times."
​
"Wheeeerreeeee areeee youuuuuu?"
​
Then, I could hear the faint beating of the mortal's heart. Shit. Time is running out, I have to find him.
​
The thing about Death is wherever he hides, there is a clue leading Reapers to the place. As the heartbeat became faster, I panicked and my mind went blank.
​
Then it struck me. Brad Pitt.
​
I rushed to Angelina's locker and there was Death, sucking on a lollipop. He smiled at me wickedly.
​
"I knew it was too much of a giveaway."
​
"I almost messed it up though."
​
"Nah, you did all right."
​
"You wanted this mortal to live, didn't you?"
​
"Her granddaughter is five and this mortal is her only family. I figured I would be nice once in a while."
​
"NO WAY!"
​
"What?"
​
"Did Love agreed to go on a date with you? That would totally explain why you are in such a good mood."
​
Consider this a true miracle: Death blushed. | My day passed around wheeling gurneys, like any doctors day should. After all it’s my job to save lives. It is not my decision which soul is to pass over, or which is to remain here on this earth. I try to be dispassionate about the battered and torn bodies fighting for life till their last breath. But it is a tough job. Not the kind your kid can take to school on show and tell. I battle the Death for these souls. Well Battle is a mighty word. What I do is to coax, distract and riddle the Death to buy more time for these poor souls. Sometimes I win, and sometimes I don’t.
But sometimes it becomes tough. Some souls are purer than others. And that’s where my job becomes tough. Emotions creep in. I pretend to be professional, but some souls have higher stakes for me than others. Death is the wily one. He knows it and takes extra pleasure in taking these souls. My own soul is withered with the weight of the thousand good souls that death took, and I could not save.
Today I was at work, like always, and I could here two ambulances pull in the ER doorway. As it goes, death was standing on the opposite side of the doorway from me. I looked at the first gurney, and then at the immense blackness of Deaths shroud. The darkness was swirling with mischief and resolve. The gurney had a man, shot in the leg with police walking beside the gurney to ensure something. As my gaze shifted to the second gurney being pulled in, my heart sank. There lay a tiny figure not taller than 4 feet, with face partially blown off. Paramedics had desperately tried to keep the kid alive and had succeeded till now in maintaining a pulse. I could immediately see Death growing taller and darker, as if being fuelled by some invisible dark energy. I took my chance and started the dance of the devil.
“Surely you are not thinking about taking the young one are you? She is what is good about this world, an innocent soul”, I said.
Death whispered back in a voice that was laced with eternity, “You know the rules. There has to be a balance of the good and evil, the pure and the corrupted, and you cannot take away my right to this balance even if you tried. That girl is mine.”
Out of the corner of the eye, I could see a women alight from a police car and rush after the gurney of the child. As if on the cue, death slowly floated towards the ER, and so did I. In the ER doctors were desperately trying to stop the blood and save bits of her face for reconstruction. I stood back from the table where the girl lay, and resisted the attempt to engage Death in a full on physical confrontation. Death came and stood with me.
“You know why she is here, don’t you?” death whispered.
“No” I mumbled back, a bit flushed at missing the full story.
“That person in the other room is Dave. Dave shot her. He is pure evil, she is good. A perfect balance, you see” death whispered in reply.
“Why should you only take the good today? What good is good if you keep taking it away” I shot back trying to take control.
“I don’t make the rules. I merely enforce them. You seem to be falling prey to their miseries, are you?” Devil retorted.
“Spare me this child today, and I will let you take the soul in the next room.” I shot back with resolve.
“This is not for me to decide. Your doctors are not doing too good a job on that child I am afraid.” Devil said ecstatically.
I clenched my fist and moved forward muttering “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good”
Death was alarmed. It knew.
I went into Dave’s room and administered a lethal dose of morphine. Then I came back to the little child and looked death in the eye. “A good soul for a good soul and the balance is not tipped”.
Last I remember death was looking at me with resigned boredom as I was injecting myself, and I was smiling at the little girl. | 2019-05-20T05:24:00 | 2019-05-20T04:12:37 | 29 | 10 |
[WP] Over the years your D&D game has managed to continue with most of the original players. However, almost everyone's life circumstances have changed drastically since they began and you now DM for a group of some of the most-powerful people on the planet. | *Final Call. Session from 6:30pm to 11pm on the 12th. Next session 1pm to 5pm on the 24th. Any objections?*
People usually laughed when they see me text, since it always sounds so formal. It makes me sound old, which isn't fair. I just turned 39 in June. And considering who I was texting, it makes sense to be like that.
*Kashmud cannot wait to crush the skull of that dragon* The first comes from the Goliath Barbarian. I hadn't been too worried about him making it, he was usually free. He was mostly a figurehead now at Drivr, as they had secured the market after the Uber-Lyft war demolished both companies.
*Can we make the 24th an hour hour later. I have lunch with VP Howard that day.* The druid spoke up, and that wasn't too big of a shock. Games that started close to lunch had a habit of being pushed back.Apparently the Senate Minority Whip takes alot of lunches.
*I have no issues. You can just come in late.* The wizard smartly pointed out. That was a huge win, since she was also so fucking busy. I don't mean to sound rude, but the world has enough sickness in it already. Can the WHO let their regional director get a few hours for herself once in a while?
*Should be able to* That was the paladin with their doublespeak. He could always talk himself out of a situation and give himself loopholes so often I had to ban the bard class from him because he broke it too easily. Considering the politicians involved, you'd be surprised it was the future HoF quarterback that was the best talker.
*It depends. Weather needs to be favorable since I will need to copter.* The monk with her comments was understandable. If they could get her, good. If not, the state of Maryland better put their governor to good use.
*Sounds like we can work it out! Glad to be in town for this!* The warlock sounds excited. It was in part his fault I had to tie everyone down so much like this. While we all stayed near DC, he went to Hollywood and became a leading man and public face of philanthropy. If he could give us more than 8 sessions in a year that would be nice.
I sighed to myself and smiled. I never got to see them anymore, high up in their ivory tower and rarely coming down to visit my world of Drenami. I should think about canceling this game, focus my effort on a game with more regular enjoyment, but it seems like an atrocity. This game has generations. It would be a waste,.
*Alright, for now we are locked in. The 24th session should be RP heavy so you won't miss much Scott. Remember, you leveled up to 9 last session. Do your work before you come to my table.* I sent out, hoping to make it clear that I didn't want to waste our time leveling people up for this. I looked at the clock and realized it was time to get ready for work. The Washington Natives football stadium wasn't going to secure itself. | "It seems I have to take the initiative again, I'll scout ahead." Elon said. He played rogue, always.
"i'll come with you Elon, for com-pan-y," Bjork's voice itself was like music. Elon told me once he found it seductive like the sirens, too good to be any good.
"You and her leave at the same time? Not this again, let me check my pockets before you go, you might have taken something." Insisted trump. He was extra angry today.
He rolled the dice for investigation. He got 20.
"Bad move. bad bad move. No sword in there and long hair means it was bullshit Bjork!"
Elon's forehead vein pulsed. " Are you sure you ever had a sword in the firet place? Don't think those tiny hands could manage it."
Trump would have burst back in the day. But all he could manage was a glower and he was already struggling for breath.
Hov sat by my side, humming and rapping 'Marcy Me' to himself more than anyone else.
Finally he said, "I miss Oprah."
It wasn't always like this.
We'd all met at an L.A party. Trump had just claimed he was worth 5 billion and threw a lavish party to prove it. It was A-List. He wanted it to be the kind of thing that caused stories to spread.
Trump now is an old furnace, ceackling at the right provocation, but back then he was like starfire. Even in his late 40s he knew how to party big.
I don't remember much of the night but I remember two things very well. strippers and gambling. Me, Elon and Jay-Z had claimed a room's worth of both. Hov was suave, he had a good 7 years of experience on me and Elon. He taught us moves and games. Things I'd never want my wife to know. nearer to the end, some of the girls may have been willing to pay us to go on.
. Shitfaced we had what we at the time thought was the greatest idea ever, we'd explore another dimension with dungeons and dragons. Elon called a guy and somehow everything, including a myriad of substances, was with is on an hour. We took to Trump's attic.
Bjork, Oprah and Hillary somehow stumbled in together, each looking wilder than the next. They probably thought wwe were doing exactly what they were, more than a little disappointment crossed their eyes when we explained we were gonna play D&D.
With the drugs we had it all felt real. And the fire's burned for more than just the dragons, as our parties advanced and cries to attack got drunker and messier, our flames roared louder, together .
Trump joined after some particularly passionate screaming from bjork- she can really hold a note- strapping a dildo with one hand and swigging some russian vodka with the other. There was a lot of russian vodka at the party. Liike that the party grew.
I was their storyteller. For years now they'd try and throw money at me for private games or to host for them. But I played on my terms, and with them, it was all of us or none of them.
Time strains all threads, what was once deep friendships. I remember when Trump first told me he wanted a better america, a greater one. He said it after after smashing down a barrier of orcs that were circled around a chest of healing elxiir that we needed.
"A damn wall can't hold me back!" He shouted.
We'd all laughed at the time.
As the drugs played the full scene of Donald clobbering down hundreds of orcs Jay pensively sat back.
"Lord we know who we are, but we know not what we may be" he said. And for some reason it felt right. | 2019-06-26T05:08:22 | 2019-06-26T04:09:00 | 262 | 23 |
[WP] You hop on a train heading back home from work later than usual but soon notice that everyone in your car is asleep. You hear a loud bang come from the car next to yours but before you can investigate, one of the older passengers whispers "Sit back down and pretend to sleep. It won't see you." |
My heart skipped a beat. "What won't see me?" I asked.
The man replied in an exasperated tone, "The Behavioral Enforcer, you fool! Mandatory sleep time started six minutes ago."
Glancing at my watch, I realized he was right. I was normally home and in bed by now. Not that it mattered.
"Mandatory sleep time is, what, a level five rule? I'm theta class, so it doesn't apply to me." I answered, my tone softening.
My response somehow made the man even more incredulous. "I have no idea! But more to the point, are you insane? Why not just close your eyes for a few minutes and get it over with?"
I looked at the man in pity. "You can't let them walk all over you. Take advantage of your standing when you can, I say. What's the point in having..."
Before I could finish my inspirational lecture, the door to our car hissed open. The man instantly slouched down, closing his eyes. I smiled at him wryly as the bot walked down the aisle toward me.
It stopped abruptly at my aisle and turned its sensors in my direction. "Rule 5.17.3 violation detected. State your defense or prepare for arrest."
Trying to remain confident through sheer force of will, despite the blood draining from my face, I took a deep breath before responding. "I am theta class and thus exempt from level..."
The mechanical voice cut me off abruptly. "Clothing inconsistent with stated class."
"I..." was all I could get out, as genuine panic started to set in. Looking down, I came to the sinking realization that I wasn't, in fact, wearing my official uniform. But so what? Nobody I knew ever wore theirs either, except for official proceedings. My coworkers always brought theirs to the office, but they just kept them in the lockers.
With all the forced bravery I could muster, I replied, "That is true. But I am theta class. Can't you perform a retinal scan?"
"Failure to wear the official uniform outside of work hours is a level 4 rule violation. Your defense has been rejected. Prepare for arrest."
The surging panic gave way to dull resignation, as I stood up and put my arms out. I followed the bot slowly down the aisle. When we reached the door, I glanced back at where I'd been sitting. I swear that bastard made the faintest smirk as the door closed behind me. | "Excuse me what?!" I whisper in my confusion.
"Just--" Before he finished he pulled me down by the arm and I fall on the floor. The floor was cold and my head began hurting but before I could try to stand up, the thing opened the door, fear and adrenaline froze me. It was a sort of shadow figure with red eyes. I stepped over me and all I could do was freeze.
"Ugh, why is no on here? I know its late but I'm hungry" They sounded cold and annoyed.
Suddenly, another one appeared"Be patient, they'll come soon. The humans can't stay down forever. They don't work like that until they're dead." They pointed around. "Look, there is a old man, a girl and a couple others."
"You know I can't seem them when they appear to be asleep. Just like all the others new to this" The first guy complained.
"I know, I know. But soon you will unlock great power If---" The first one cut them off
"Yeah yeah I know. I will unlock great power with patients and kindness towards others. I'm bored, lets get off at this stop and look there"
"Right, they can't be asleep forev--" The second one stopped as they looked around. They approached a woman who looked like they were asleep. They poked it and her eyes shot open and sat up looking around
"They're not even asleep! EVERYONE UP NOW!" The second one sounded livid. Everyone immediately got up. I slowly got up and watched the old man as he got up. This was it, I was going to die here and it would turn into a conspiracy theory and I am not ready. I look around but stop cold when I feel someone touch my hand. It was the old man and my hand suddenly felt warm. The warmth traveled through my body. I suddenly felt some calm and power.
"Crap, its you again!" The second one turned to us. They stormed over. When they stopped in front of him, I felt the urge to punch the thing. "You know, you keep trying to win but you can't fight us forever." It snarled.
"I know what you want and I won't let you win." He let go of my hand and stepped forward. I felt different, like I could take on the world. As if I had control of the situation. Like I had a super power.
"Who is this girl?" The first one asked as it pointed at me.
"Don't know her" The old man said. He sounded confident.
"But you just transferred the last of your power to her" It sounded bored.
"What?!" The second thing looked even more livid as it turned to me.
"Uhhh, no...?" I try to hide my fear
"Wow, a girl. I thought you had standards" The second thing said as it walked towards me but as it stopped in front of me, impulse got the better and I punched it. It went flying through the cart and landed at the other end. The train began stopping as we arrived at the stop.
"EVERYONE RUN NOW" The old man shouted as the doors opened.
The stop was a mess of people running and screaming and I was in the crowd, looking for a escape like everyone else. Not knowing what to do once I got out. | 2019-08-09T10:53:35 | 2019-08-09T10:50:48 | 19 | 14 |
[WP] People's powers match their personality: impatient people get super speed, protective people get force fields and so on. Explaining why you have your power is... difficult. | "C'mon, just tell me," she said, leaning her elbows on the table and facing me, eagerly.
"I'm telling you, it's not that impressive. Hardly a discussion for a first date."
"I think it's the perfect discussion. If you don't tell me..."
I felt a sudden urge to blurt it out, but I composed myself. Her mind powers were going to take a while to get used to.
"Okay, fine, I'll tell you. But we might as well get comfortable. Tea?"
She started as I produced a warm teapot from under my jacket and set it on the table.
"Sugar? Honey?" I placed both of these on the table as well. A candle and a lighter came out next.
She made a face, as if she was trying to appear startled rather than amused. "Anything else you've got under your sleeve?"
I lit the candle to pause for effect, and then pulled out a couple of soft throws. "What's your favorite author?" I asked as I handed a blanket to her.
"Um..."
I slid her favorite book across the checkered table before she could answer. The booth we were seated at now had a much cozier feel, and was attracting a few looks from the other people in the diner. I pulled my blanket over my knees, and tossed her a pillow.
"So what kind of powers *do* you have?" She asked again inquisitively.
I couldn't resist the urge this time. "Well you see, I'm just...a bit stressed." | “So your power is super... taste?” Roy asked.
I nodded, taking a quick bite of my turkey and cheese sandwich. I was able to enjoy every little detail, and that made everything I ate delicious. Even though I heard people talk about foods they did and didn’t like, I just couldn’t get enough of anything people could give me.
“So like, what does that do? You just... taste better?”
I swallowed and nodded once again. “I know it doesn’t sound like the best power, but it has tons of uses,” I explained, taking another bite.
“Like what?”
“Well, for example,” I took a pause to swallow, “this sandwich tastes *really* good!”
“And?” Roy looked curious. He raised an eyebrow and stared at my sandwich, confused. I guess he’ll just never get the true deliciousness of turkey.
“Uh, well, I guess if I wanted I could use it to solve crime. Do taste tests, stuff like that.”
“Don’t you wanna be a teacher?” Roy pointed out. I hate when he’s right, always so clever. No wonder he got telekinesis.
“Oh, yeah, that,” I said, finally finishing my lunch. “Well, uh... I could teach cooking. That could work.”
Roy nodded, slowly. “Oh... kay?” I smiled. Finally, I had proven the usefulness of my powers to someone!
“See? Super taste can be kinda cool, you know,” I smirked as the bell rang. Roy sighed as he got up from his seat.
“Well, see you Jack. Oh, before I go, why did you get super taste anyway?” Roy asked as he grabbed his backpack.
I thought for a moment. “I dunno. I think I just like food.”
Then Roy walked away, leaving me alone. When I was certain no one was looking, I took a note out of my lunch box. It read: *Enjoy your lunch today, sweetie! Love, mom!*
I smiled, put the note in my pocket, and walked to my next class. Could that have something to do with my powers? Eh, it doesn’t matter. I love you too, mom. | 2019-09-08T10:13:02 | 2019-09-08T09:47:00 | 84 | 27 |
[WP] People's powers match their personality: impatient people get super speed, protective people get force fields and so on. Explaining why you have your power is... difficult. | I always felt alone as a child, even talking to myself when I felt the need for conversation. It started when I was 4 or 5, I guess; parents were too busy to my many siblings that I only had myself for company. So I talked to myself... and I answered myself. My mother always said, "Oh, she's just playing. Let her be." And it made sense when I was a child. Until I turned 21 and my answer didn't come from my mouth. I found I could duplicate, make multiple copies of myself and I didn't feel so alone.
If I was ever so alone and I needed to talk to someone, I'd split and three people: me, a listener, and someone to make brownies for us. It was always comforting to know someone was there for me, even if it was still me. Sometimes I use them for "evil;" if I don't want to go to work, one of them will. If I don't want to go on a date with someone but they don't take no for an answer, if I need to go to the store but I'm out of patience to leave the house, ect, ect.
But eventually I got sick of myself and left my apartment in hopes of finding new companionship but how does someone with... well, multiple personalities just go up to someone and say, "I'm lonely and would like you to fill the void"?
My thoughts swam with reasons to go up to someone and start talking to them when a voice behind me said, "You should open with a joke."
I made a face and turned with a groan, expecting to see an other giving me advice, and my eyes landed on the face of someone with kind, green eyes, broad, strong shoulders and a smile that warmed my heart.
"Sorry," he said, chuckling. "I didn't mean to interrupt your internal debate but it sounded like you could use some help."
'Internal?' I thought. 'How did he know I was-'
"I can read minds," he answered without even waiting for a question. "I hear everyone's thoughts but yours kind of pulled on me. It doesn't make sense, I know, but I felt like you needed someone to talk to."
I squinted slightly and decided to test this, playing an annoying song from high school in my head until he reacted.
And react he did; he chuckled. "I loved Raining Tacos as a kid."
My mind went... not blank, but in hyperdrive; all my others swarming me with questions to ask until one stood out. "Do you wanna get a coffee?" I asked. Hearing my own voice ask a question that I didn't have to answer made me start to smile.
But what made it bigger was his response. "I'd love to." | Mike was leaning on me rather heavily, as the office Christmas party began to die down. ‘So,’ he slurred, ‘Whatss yo-your ability, Amily?’ Instead of words, I decided it was better to show him. I tentatively touched his arm, and we were transported into a world of our own. We were sitting beneath a palm tree, on a sunny Hawaiian island. Typical holiday kinda thing. He gaped, and looked around. ‘Is-Is this real?’ He asked. ‘Touch something.’ I replied. He reached out to grab a handful of sand, but all he could feel was the wooden stool beneath him. He still looked surprised though. Suddenly, there was a this and the illusion died away. Mike had fallen off the stool and was grinning drunkenly.
Over the next couple of weeks I didn't see Mike that much. We both had a lot of work. Occasionally I'd see him walking past my cubicle, but that was about it. Finally, one day in January as I was was leaving work he stopped me just outside. ‘Amily, I was wondering if you'd maybe like to go out with me this Friday afternoon?’ I smiled, sadly. I patted his arm. ‘I'm sorry, Mike. I-I don't see you that way. ’ I lied through my teeth. He looked down, crestfallen. ‘Ah...right then. See you tomorrow, then.’ He walked away. I got into my car, and drove home. As I was unlocking my apartment I let the tears begin to flow. I rested my head against the door before going inside. I sat down. ‘Amily, get it together.’ I wiped away my tears and went to pick up the post. As I looked through the various pamphlets, one caught my eye. It was an advertisement for the therapy clinic that had opened up down the road. I stayed like that for a while, just staring at it. Then I made the decision.
It was four months later and I was finally ready to open up. Jill, the therapist, sat there patiently. I exhaled through my nose. ‘I was seven years old. My..father...was drunk again. He had come home and hit my mother, and she was unconscious. See, he had super strength. And he definitely didn't use it for good. I was hiding in the attic, hearing him bellow my name. I-I heard my sister, Josie-’ I stop, and wipe my eyes. ‘ I heard her trying to calm him down. She was trying to use her gift. She could make people fall asleep whenever she wanted. But this time, my father..’ I let out a sob. ‘ He..he hit her into the wall, and when she didn't get back up again he became even more enraged. He heard my sobs and came into the attic. He raised his hand...and I suddenly wished he was being ripped apart. And then he started screaming. I had conjured an illusion of him being ripped apart by wild dogs. It drove him insane. But I remember, the last thing he had ever said to me. It was after he had given me a beating for saying I had a friend. “Don't ever let anyone in, Amily. They'll use you and toss you away.” Jill stares at me, shocked before composing herself. 'Well... congratulations for sharing.'
This is my first work, so constructive criticism is welcome! | 2019-09-08T11:40:23 | 2019-09-08T11:37:20 | 40 | 21 |
[WP] People's powers match their personality: impatient people get super speed, protective people get force fields and so on. Explaining why you have your power is... difficult. | I always felt alone as a child, even talking to myself when I felt the need for conversation. It started when I was 4 or 5, I guess; parents were too busy to my many siblings that I only had myself for company. So I talked to myself... and I answered myself. My mother always said, "Oh, she's just playing. Let her be." And it made sense when I was a child. Until I turned 21 and my answer didn't come from my mouth. I found I could duplicate, make multiple copies of myself and I didn't feel so alone.
If I was ever so alone and I needed to talk to someone, I'd split and three people: me, a listener, and someone to make brownies for us. It was always comforting to know someone was there for me, even if it was still me. Sometimes I use them for "evil;" if I don't want to go to work, one of them will. If I don't want to go on a date with someone but they don't take no for an answer, if I need to go to the store but I'm out of patience to leave the house, ect, ect.
But eventually I got sick of myself and left my apartment in hopes of finding new companionship but how does someone with... well, multiple personalities just go up to someone and say, "I'm lonely and would like you to fill the void"?
My thoughts swam with reasons to go up to someone and start talking to them when a voice behind me said, "You should open with a joke."
I made a face and turned with a groan, expecting to see an other giving me advice, and my eyes landed on the face of someone with kind, green eyes, broad, strong shoulders and a smile that warmed my heart.
"Sorry," he said, chuckling. "I didn't mean to interrupt your internal debate but it sounded like you could use some help."
'Internal?' I thought. 'How did he know I was-'
"I can read minds," he answered without even waiting for a question. "I hear everyone's thoughts but yours kind of pulled on me. It doesn't make sense, I know, but I felt like you needed someone to talk to."
I squinted slightly and decided to test this, playing an annoying song from high school in my head until he reacted.
And react he did; he chuckled. "I loved Raining Tacos as a kid."
My mind went... not blank, but in hyperdrive; all my others swarming me with questions to ask until one stood out. "Do you wanna get a coffee?" I asked. Hearing my own voice ask a question that I didn't have to answer made me start to smile.
But what made it bigger was his response. "I'd love to." | Dan watched his partners work. He sat silent, and so nobody bothered him. That was just how he liked it, really. He was able to do his part of the school project in peace.
Fortunately, he got at least one good group member. Ted looked like he he was sleeping, but he was probably being more productive than any of them. Technopaths were handy to have when doing a school research project. The guy may as well have a computer installed directly in his head. Appropriate since even before he awakened his powers last year he damn near had technopathy anyway.
Sally was fidgeting nervously over her keyboard. She was still unaccustomed to her powers, and had difficulty controlling them. That might not be so bad if the forceful, strongly opinionated girl had not gained super strength and now had the issue of unintentionally breaking things. Ironic that she had become so shy and closeted because of it. It also made her a terrible group member, since she was more focused on not breaking things than the work.
Kelly, the unofficial leader of the group, was doing almost as much work as Ted was. She was literally doing the work of three people thanks to her cloning ability. Of course, the already hyperproductive girl that swore by multitasking would awaken that power. It made her both useful and annoying. Having one person micromanage everything was bad enough. Having that same person micromanage you from three different angles at once was worse.
"Say, has anyone seen Dan?" One of Kelly's clones asked. "I swear he was right here a minute ago."
Ted half opened one eye, looking directly at Dan, and shrugged before closing it. Sally shook her head and slowly poked at a key, letting out a visible sigh of relief when it did not break.
Kelly growled. Dan smiled. He loved his power, he really did. It was so useful to avoid unpleasant conversation.
"I'm right here." Dan said.
Kelly jumped. All four of her. "What the? Where did...when did you get back?"
"I never left."
"Oh...okay then. Just...just... don't disappear again."
"I don't disappear. I can't turn invisible or anything."
Kelly looked like she wanted to say something, but Sally interrupted.
"It's not? We all thought it was. I mean, you just, like, vanish for no reason. That's why nobody asked what you got when you awakened."
Dan shrugged. It was true he had never officially revealed his power, but he had a reason. If people knew what he could do, it would become a lot less effective.
"It's not invisibility. It's also not teleporting or shrinking or anything like that. I just don't like telling people what it is. It's not really great anyway. Kind of lame, really."
"Can we get back on track, please?" Kelly huffed. "We've still got a lot to do. And Dan, don't disappear again. I don't care how you do it, just don't."
Dan nodded and got back to his part of the project. One of Kelly's clones kept glancing at him, making sure he would not go anywhere. It did not matter much. She would lose track of him eventually.
The power to go unnoticed may not have been flashy interesting, but it suited him just fine. | 2019-09-08T11:40:23 | 2019-09-08T11:00:34 | 40 | 14 |
[WP] Earth remained a protected planet by every species in the known galaxy, because Humans are the Greatest story tellers. "The planet of Dreamers," finally reaches the stars much to exhilaration of every race who knows of the story's of Earth. Even simple conversation with humans is entertaining. | We didn't live dreary lives. We fought often, ate good food, and loved good beings. But after meeting the humans, it all seemed so... dull. The tales the humans wove, we thought they were immortal to experience so much. But even though they hardly ever even circled their star a hundred times, they could spin you a thousand tales about it. Their eyes had a shine unlike any other, and their voices... They poured so much *feeling* into their words. Tales of flavors and scents, sights and triumphs. They spoke of such devastating hardships. Loss of loved ones beyond comprehension, and dark times beyond what I had ever considered. And then they rose. The human lifted up the spirit he had created, and gave him something to love again. And the spirit loved again, after so much terror and loss. I think the human said the moral was "Life goes on".
I think my favorite story was always of Earth's greatest warriors. I was a warrior myself, and it was my passion. Tales of strategy and deception, love and strength. His species had always dreamed of battles in space, their unobtainable territory. Trials of Captain Kirk and Captain Picard, with their fight against the unknown. They thought of giant spheres meant to destroy planets, even larger rings meant to destroy galaxies. Even their tales of merely surviving in space fighting hunger and pressure made me shudder. His planets actual heros were possibly even more amazing. Davy Crockett and his final stand, the three hundred souls who bested tens of thousands for a time. Hercules and his enormous strength, and the incredible mind of Batman.
I have to say, even with all of those great warriors, it seemed none could hold a candle to the greatest.
Ted from Accounting. | It took many years of frenzied searching to find the best storytellers earth had to offer. Each planet sent forth their research teams to pilfer through each category of humanoid in an attempt to discover the individual that would bring fame and fortune to their planet. It was found that lumping the humans into age groups was the easiest method, as the earthlings' idea of grouping through "race" was found to be entirely based on color of skin, which yielded no actual difference between individuals.
The children of earth, though animated and adorable, couldn't exactly weave a tale that could capture an audience from start to finish. The adults, for the most part, were much the same--most were only able to recount tired clips from their day-to-day routines. But it was what earthlings called the "teenagers" that came to be the sensation of the universe. A previously untapped vein of storytelling gold that was responsible for filling an auditorium with millions of beings from various planets, all excitedly murmuring as they waited to see what the years of research had produced.
The lights dimmed and the cacophony of noise fell to silence as everyone peered into the darkness, anxiously scanning the stage for the being that had been labeled "The Storyteller of Earth".
A faint but persistent clacking noise echoed through the auditorium. It was a noise that beings from other planets couldn't decipher, but most earthlings would recognize it as acrylic nails on a glass screen. A bright spotlight suddenly illuminated the figure standing on stage. A thin, blonde earthling with a youthful face, furiously typing on her phone, the resounding clacking becoming more frenzied. Suddenly she stops, her eyes scanning the screen before she slowly looks up at the audience with a cruel smirk.
"Sorry, just responding to this comment on my Insta page. I'll have to read you the actual comment. It's from Jessica, Jessica Holms, you know, the one that got caught cheating on Seth Brewers at the SAME MALL THAT HE WORKS AT. Yeah, so, yesterday at school Jessica has the nerve to walk up to me while I'm at my locker, which I'm only at because Jordan said he'd meet me there after Chemistry. Like THE Jordan Smith, the captain of the football team, right? He was talking to my friend Sammy but found out about that thing she did last weekend at that party at Bobby's parents' cabin...." | 2019-11-21T06:32:39 | 2019-11-21T05:04:53 | 64 | 23 |
[WP] At the age of 16 everyone gets teleported into a small room. In front of you is a table with all kinds of meals from apples to gourmet meats. Whatever you take a bite of will determine what superpower you'll get. You are the first Person to take a bite of the table itself | Just seconds after I swallowed the last of the table, it started. The laughing. It surrounded me like my blanket at bedtime. It spoke to my soul in a way I can't describe. As I looked round the others, they couldn't hear it.
The whole earth itself began to shake and there he stood. Still no other saw or heard him.
He was trying desperately not to double over laughing.
"My replacement has arrived, I thought no other could be as stupid as I!!" He bellowed.
Suddenly, my very soul, it's being pulled from my body, the tingling, the terror and then white....blinding white.
The realization hit me as my soul hit his body, now my body. My superpower?
I am Atlas 2.0, the second human to inhabit the body that holds up the world and I will be him until someone new eats the table. | "What the hell, dude? That table is like 10,000 years old! It's made of a tree that doesn't exist anymore," I heard the sound of a voice and my head immediately snapped around to find it. I still couldn't see the individual in question but I had been made alert.
"What? I was just trying to think outside the box, do I still get a power?"
"Unfortunately, yes. The only criteria is that you take a bite of something in the room. Give me a second," i waited about two minutes. On the table, which really was gorgeous, there had been placed an assortment of food. Simple food, like apples, graham crackers, or bread. Fancy looking food that I didn't know anything about. All on plates that were completely white except for a golden ring around the edge that seemed to be hand painted. To be honest, I really wasn't wanting to bite the table. After an extremely long day of anticipation and then mild panic at 12:01 when I hadn't gone to the room, I was very hungry. Then I heard the voice again, "okay, let's see here, speed, strength, incredibly handsome? No no no. Ah, yes. Okay, here's the deal, punk. Here's your power. Ready?"
"Uh. Yeah?"
"You have the power to, uh... Drum roll, please! Dudududududududu you got the ability to instantly remove the life force of a creature while making it look like an accident. Good luck, have fun,"
Edit: Formatting | 2020-03-19T08:54:35 | 2020-03-19T08:21:44 | 296 | 162 |
[WP] At the age of 16 everyone gets teleported into a small room. In front of you is a table with all kinds of meals from apples to gourmet meats. Whatever you take a bite of will determine what superpower you'll get. You are the first Person to take a bite of the table itself | Due to various socioeconomic factors; 16 years ago there was an unprecedented baby boom. I was one of such born then. The rules are simple: one at a time you will approach the table and select a food from it. Upon eating the food, you will gain a power. We were told that we would have to each choose something different.
I was always a patient person. Never in a rush to go anywhere or do anything. I just sat quietly watching the others rush ahead. One girl ate a cherry, and gained the ability to blend into any crowd. Like a sort of active camouflage that she could activate at will.
A boy found a hot dog. He said that he didn't want to show off what power he got (although we later found out that his power wasn't too pleasant to look at). One after the other ate something.
I lost count how many different foods from a wide variety of regions were there. I eventually noticed something interesting. Every so often it appeared like the table was shrinking. I started to watch it closely.
A kid picked up a pie....Nothing. Then he ate a bite.
It shrank! Ever so slightly, but it did get smaller. Like it was adjusting itself for the amount of food left on it. Like it knew how much was on it. But it's just a table. It can't know; can it?
Bite after bite. Kid after kid. Little by little. It kept adjusting. There was never any new food being brought out. Just us kids, the food, and the table inside the room. I started to look around to see if anyone else had noticed or if the room were shrinking as well, but no one else seemed aware of the phenomenon with the table. The room was just as massive as when we had first started.
With less than 50 kids left; the table that was so massive one kid had to climb on top of it to get something or another out of the middle, now looked like a large banquet table. In what seemed like an instant, we were now down to 10 kids with a table that was about 2 feet square! I had gotten so enthralled at the strange table that I hadn't noticed just how few of us there were left.
We all formed a single file line, no reason to get into a fight like the guys that all wanted the porterhouse steak. One by one, they ate something. The guy in front of me said that he was sorry, but he had to eat something. I didn't know what he meant until I saw that there was nothing left. The table was now just the only thing left standing in the vast empty room with myself.
I looked around for something to eat. Nothing. The room, much like the table before me, was bare. I called out to whoever could hear for something, but no response ever came. I had never thought that this could happen. How could this massive table, well it was, run out of food. Did someone somehow eat more than one thing? What was I supposed to do?
I picked up the table, can I even still call it a "table"? It couldn't hold an olive on it even if it needed to. With no other option, I decided to make my final meal that table. I mean, I wouldn't live after eating a table, would I? What if it expanded out again? No. I had to eat something to leave the room. I hope that I don't get a splinter and I ate the table.
Upon swallowing the table, I looked around at the room and waited. This is the room that gifted so many with amazing powers and many others with very ordinary ones. I sat down, waiting for the table to do whatever it would. Waiting to leave the room. Why was I still here? What would happen if more kids suddenly teleported into the room? I could feel myself starting to panic. Then suddenly, black.
I awoke later inside my room, back at my desk where I had been studying before. I survived! The table didn't kill me. I was so happy to be out of that damn room. I looked down at my books, notepad, and pencil. Might as well finish these last few notes before class tomorrow morning. That's right. I had broken my last pencil before leaving. Now what was I supposed to do. I picked up the stub that still held the eraser on it. If only it were a bit longer I could sharpen it and finish.
I stood up and went to the restroom to wake myself up a bit. Splashing some water in my face and looking in the mirror, I was happy to not have any strange difference about myself. All seemed normal. Nothing different anywhere. Satisfied, and a bit disappointed, I went back to my room. Looking back at my stuff on the desk there was my pencil. Or was that mine. It was still broken, but now it was around 3 inches long.
That's when I learned that I gained the powers of the table. What ever I needed, I could adjust as I saw fit. I would be able to work in any industry that I wanted to. Need a part changed on a vehicle, but can't get your hand into the tiny space? Just make it larger, replace the part and shrink it back down. Need a surgical device to fit in a place too small? Shrink it down. I can only wonder what the limits of this power could be. | As a kid, my friends and I loved to chat, debate and even argue what we'd eat when we entered the power room. We didn't know what food gave what power (everyone who went through it could not speak of that without losing their power), so we always theorised what we'd get.
Gemma insisted she'd find the food that had telekinesis. Her twin sister, Lucy, didn't care what power she got but always said she'd eat the sweetest thing there. Zack wanted invisiblity, and Toby would change his mind every other day. That left myself, and Ralph.
I just enjoyed hearing my friends debate the whole topic, before we gave up on making ourselves agree and went to the park. Ralph though... He was Odd. He'd never say anything about what he wanted from the power room, he just kept thinking up "what if" ideas.as the youngest, he'd go to the room last. But he still seemed to think about it more than the rest of us combined.
It was the day before Gemma and Lucy's Sixteenth,. We were sat under a bridge in town, with a load of alcohol Zack had snuck out from his parents' garage. All of us were drunk and just having fun. Toby tried to flirt with Gemma, but got roasted by the others for his efforts. That's when Ralph had probably the dumbest idea is heard out of his mouth.
"hey guys," he'd said, "what do you think happens if you bite the table?"
We all stopped, confused.
"what the hell are you on about?" I slurred. I was a bit of a lightweight when it came to drinking, and I was several swigs of whiskey in.
"You know, in the room. What happens if you take a bite from the table instead of the food?"
None of us responded with words, but our laughter echoed under the bridge. I was still giggling after the laughter had died down, until I saw the hurt look on Ralph's face. I immediately felt guilty.
Once the others had gone back to roughing each other up, I half-walked half-shuffled over to Ralph.
"You are really curious about that aren't you?" I asked. "it wasn't one of your usual 'what if' jokes?"
"Yeah... It's the question I've had since I found out about it. You guys are the first ones I told it to."
I put my hand on his shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it. If I don't know what to so, I'll bite the table for you."
His eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Really."
Six months and four days later, and I'm in the room. It's a plain white-walled room with a huge wooden table, laden with a piece of every kind of food you could imagine. The catch is, only one person can have a particular food. No two people born on the same day can eat the same food. With dozens of people in the room, it was carnage. About four people were popping in to the room each second, and only when someone ate a piece of food did they disappear.
It takes five minutes before I muster up the courage to approach the table. I take a step forward, but immediately get knocked to the floor by a guy twice my size pushing me aside. With so many people around me, I scurry under the table, to see a girl nearby doing the same. A weirdly coloured orange segment drops to the floor next to me. I pick it up and offer it to the girl. She grabs it, bites and disappears.
I sit there for a while, wondering what to do. I don't want to get bullied around up there, but I don't want to just grab some random piece of food. Then I remember my drunken promise to Ralph, and wonder what the hell I am about to do.
I lean over, and bite the nearest table leg.
And everything goes black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the blackness, I hear a voice.
WELL THAT'S A NEW ONE. DIDN'T TAKE HUMANITY FOR THE INVENTIVE TYPE. WHAT IS YOUR NAME, HUMAN?
"Lily." my voice responds, but I did not tell it to. What is going on? I'm scared.
WELL, LILY. YOU ARE THE FIRST HUMAN TO TRY TO BITE THE TABLE ITSELF, INSTEAD OF SOME OF THE FOOD I PROVIDE. SO, YOU HAVE TWO OPTIONS. GO BACK AND PICK FROM THE FOOD, OR GAIN A POWER THAT I DESIGN.
"Didn't you design the powers in the room?"
HA! NO, I DID NOT. THOSE ARE SIMPLY POWERS THAT HUMANS DESIRE, MAPPED ON TO FOOD THEY ENJOY. THE MORE THE POWER IS DESIRED, THE MORE POPULAR FOOD IT IS IMPRINTED ON. NO, MY DESIGNS ARE QUITE DIFFERENT.
I can't think. I don't know what to do. I just-
YOU SHOULD NOT BE HERE TOO LONG. DECIDE QUICKLY.
My head feels like it is about to explode.
"Give me a power." yet again, my mouth moved on its own.
VERY WELL.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
i'm back. Back at my birthday party. It's ten past nine in the evening, so I've been gone for half an hour. I barely have time to sit down when Gemma flattens me against the sofa
"You're back! How come you were there so long?" now everyone sees me, and I'm crowded. Everyone is asking questions. I don't like this.
"Look i-"
I am pulled to my feet without warning. Zack and Ralph are there, separating me from the crowd.
Zack takes a step forward. "guys, chill out! Y'all know how Lucy hates pressure, so back off!" the crowd thins out after that. Ralph pulls me into a side room and the rest of the gang follow. I grab the nearest beanbag and collapse into it.
"So, what did you get?" Toby is lying across the table, head gently resting on Lucy's shoulder. Everyone else is stood behind them.
"I... Don't know" I say. | 2020-03-19T09:40:00 | 2020-03-19T09:01:40 | 198 | 63 |
[WP] At the age of 16 everyone gets teleported into a small room. In front of you is a table with all kinds of meals from apples to gourmet meats. Whatever you take a bite of will determine what superpower you'll get. You are the first Person to take a bite of the table itself | (I don't usually write for these so be gentle)
The day finally came. It was my turn like my brother and sister before me. They each got their powers and now have been assigned jobs that took advantage of their powers.
My brother with his super strength works in a foundry lifting heavy materials. While my sister with her healing powers works in the local hospital. Both are super happy with their lives mostly.
Some of my older friends have their powers as well. Some are really cool and useful like my siblings. Some aren't as useful like my friend who got super speed typing.
Now it was my turn. The elders and trainers looked on in the room we were all in. Every power had a specific trainer. Their job was to make sure you learned how to use your powers correctly. Everyone had to walk up to what they were gonna eat. Then we all took a bite at the same time.
Usually a bit of hell broke loose for a moment as people got used to their new abilities. Some things let you even morph into animals! I wouldn't mind that one. You get to work at the zoo as an exhibit.
We then heard the 1 minute warning. We all got ready to take a bite out of our food. Except me, I hadn't picked anything yet. I quickly thought about the different foods as time was being counted down. If you didn't take a bite out of something you'd be a "normie" or "PL" a powerless individual. That's not something you want. Then I heard the count down and panicked. I kneeled down and when I heard "Bite!" I took a bite out of the table.
I heard a few gasps from the elders and trainers. I did something never done before. See what we didn't know was that every food had been prepared by the trainers according to a special recipe and that's how their powers were passed on during this short window in our life. However, no one could remember who on earth made the table. It had always been there since the beginning.
As other people's powers came forth and the elders were dealing with that, one came up to me and asked how I was feeling. "Nothing has happened yet. So I don't know." I said to them. "Well it can take some time to manifest. Go get some water and splash some on your face. See how you feel." they replied.
So I went to the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. As I was calming down I was reminded of a rain storm when I was younger. The water splashing on my face made me remember it. All of a sudden I heard rain outside and a voice in my head say "Command accepted. Altering weather to rainstorm."
I froze. Where did that voice come from? I then thought about sunny weather instead to see if I could get it to come back. I heard it again "Command accepted. Altering weather to calm and sunny. Average temperature.". What was this I thought to myself. Then I heard a reply that scared me "Welcome back Superuser. Root command access granted. Account Deity reactivated."
An elder I hadn't seen previously came and found me at the sink and said "We need to talk about your new power. There's only supposed to be one of us at time. You weren't supposed to take a bite out of my table ya goof." with a smile on his face. "Come now. You have a lot to learn so I can finally die in peace." | I might be a lil crazy but I’m thinking I shouldn’t bite anything . Everyone always bites what’s in front of them and the powers range from making seeds grow into flowers to making clones out of water to jumping through time for hours. Sarah’s right beside me and she just bit into this banana and now she’s teleporting across the room. I don’t wanna have a banana I heard not eating the peel makes your powers overreact. The steak in the back smells good but I heard it’s a ruse. A dude in my neighborhood had the steak and all he can do is turn into a rabbit, and I don’t wanna be a limited animorph. The Red Apples are common cause they give you powers like Super speed or Bionic Hearing. Good powers but nothing fancy and I want something unique.
The Grapes seem to give you cloning powers and while that would be fun I don’t think having more than one of me would be good for myself. The Pasta in the back sounds good but someone else ate it and I can hear them screaming that their hands burn like lava and they can’t turn it off. Why can’t the turn on period for these things be sweet and easy. Jared is eating Baked Mediterranean Lobster and out of nowhere he starts to glow like he’s gonna explode. The explosion comes out of his fingers and he’s never been more embarrassed. I think I understand this shit now. Is it that the meals are strategically placed depending on what we would want? The everyday goods give you regular abilities, the cuisine gives you powers that people wouldn’t want and the stuff in between gives you whatever. So what would give me something else?
After walking round the room and tripping over a girl growing vines on her legs by eating French Shrimp I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s only one thing I can eat that’s gonna get me a power that no one else has. And it’s the Table that all the food is on. No one is either stupid enough or smart enough to ever try it but that’s why I’m here. I move a kid sneezing Needles out of the way and crouch down ready for the embarrassment and surprise of what I’m about to do. I grab the edge of the table and everyone stops and stares. Sarah runs over and asks me what the hell am I thinking and that I’m wasting my one bite. Jared comes over and has to ball up his fist while laughing otherwise I would be scolding hot right now with his hand on my shoulder. The Elders and Guards look on as more kids wait for me to bite. Looks like I have to get this over with and I take a bite. I feel my tooth crack and my body go limp for a second as a rush goes through me, every cell in my body feels on fire and my mind is racing a million miles per second.
I get up and I don’t feel a thing and even worse everyone is laughing their asses off. I look at Jared and I see a bunch of different numbers on his head, numbers that look like stats. His Life force for the day, his weak points in his body, his weaknesses for allergies, his loved ones and much more. Look at Sasha and I see how her body is reacting internally, where she went for the past week, the food she ate last night, her darkest fears. But it’s all like stats in a video game. I look at a elder and I see his memories, the kids he’s trained, the food he wants to eat and the money in his bank account. Everyone’s asking what my power is and the head elder says it should arrive in my body by the end of the week. As we leave the room to head to the debrief room I l go to the bathroom to look in the mirror and something tells me to tap the right side of my temple. I do so and I look down at my arms and my hands are shining blue. I extend my hand out and a blast comes out. I kick out my leg and a wave of energy comes out. I try to do my goku impersonation and blue energy covers my body. They yell that they need me in the debrief room so we can be assigned our squads. Guess I’m gonna have to learn my powers on my own time. | 2020-03-19T10:22:13 | 2020-03-19T10:15:15 | 172 | 44 |
[WP] “Do not go outside. Ignore all the cries for help, no matter how human they sound.” That was the last thing he said before he shut the basement door. | “Don’t go outside. Ignore all the cries for help, no matter how human they sound,” her father said as he hefted the bloody axe into his hand. He started up the stairs out of the cellar and stopped. "You can always tell when they're not human, listen. Listen!"
“Papa, no—no they *are!* They are people!” she cried pulling on his stained dark t-shirt. The fabric stretched against his body like diseased skin falling off the bone. “Don’t go back out there, please. It’s not true what you say. They’re real. They’re real people, please, papa. Just like mama and James were. Please, stay here.”
He turned on her. “Yes ... " he said, taking the axe in both hands. His eyes blazed with disgust. "Yes, that's *exactly* how they sound.” | Half an hour later the cries came from every direction and from everyone. each it's own distinct call never too many to cover another call as if they wanted you to pick out your families cry and add yours to their chorus, but every once in a while you heard every cry stop and you knew someone had fallen for their trap you heard the crack and scrape of bones breaking and the marrow being dragged out from them you could almost tell the ones that were more deadly by the direction the new cries came from. one time you heard a body being played with and tossed around, it hit the doorframe and blood rolled down the steps as if it was a reassurance that you weren't insane and they were out there.
Why not let them take you? You already heard your brothers' cry you knew he wouldn't save you no one could. each sickening thud of their heavy feet made your will to live drain more and more every cry bringing you that much closer to ending it all and maybe that is why when you opened the door to stare death in the face it stared back, and it seemed to like you it gave a sickening whimper of a dog then a pleading meow from a cat then it settled on a child's cry why did it do this you wonder why wont it end it? The whole colony of these things seemed to barely care about you more interested in the rats in the basement than you as soon as they all got to check out the basement the cries started again and you joined them you were crying hoping for someone to notice you and maybe they were too if only for their next meal... maybe you should join them in that too... | 2020-04-26T08:20:00 | 2020-04-26T03:56:47 | 154 | 59 |
[WP] You are a mutant in Xavier's school for gifted youngsters with the power to teleport, well that's what you tell everyone. In reality you can pause time and you're not ready to be an omega class mutant. | All the students were getting up to leave class when he heard, "Matthew, might I speak to you for a moment?"
"Of course, Professor."
Professor Xavier had always been kind to him. Matthew long suspected that Xavier knew he was hiding his full potential but the professor never pushed the subject and treated Matthew like all the other students. He liked feeling normal here. His long standing lie was that he could teleport. Whenever they were required to practice their abilities it put Matthew in a tough spot. The teachers were constantly trying to push his limits and get him to teleport further and further. It's tiring having to run such far distances constantly. Yesterday, the teacher had asked him to try to travel to someplace he had previously been. After faking an attempt for an hour or so the teacher finally relented and suggested they take a break.
"Professor Munroe tells me you had a difficult time yesterday. She was worried she might have pushed you too hard and wanted to make sure you were okay."
"I-I'm fine professor. She didn't push too hard. I tried picturing different places but nothing happened. I don't know if I'm able to teleport like that."
"Well, things happen at different paces for everyone. I'm sure you've heard of Kurt by now?"
"Yes, sir."
"When he first came here, he was limited by what he could see as well. He could travel to anywhere in sight, but beyond that, he was too frightened to push himself. It takes extraordinary strength to push limits set by our minds. In time, I'm sure you will be able to overcome anything you set your mind to."
"Thank you professor."
"Matthew, have you made any friends since you started here? I don't see you with the other students very often."
"No sir, I-I think they are frightened of me."
"Why is that?"
"They avoid me, and I hear them saying things about me."
"Teleporting is an enviable gift. I'm sure they will come around in time."
"I guess."
"Matthew, are you sure there isn't something else? You know I would never use my gift on anyone without permission but it doesn't take a mind reader to see that something is bothering you."
"Professor, c-can you keep a secret?"
"Of course, Matthew. Anything you tell me would be kept between us."
Eyes to the floor Matthew said, "I have been lying to you and the other teachers. I can't teleport."
Professor Xaviers remained quiet as if telling Matthew to continue.
"I-I was afraid if you found out what I can do, that you would make me part of your advanced class. I just wanted to feel normal for once. Everyone my whole life has called me a freak and when I got here, I was just another kid. I'm so sorry I lied professor."
"It's okay Matthew. I understand. If I may ask, what is this gift that you were afraid to speak of?"
"It's easier if I show you."
"Lead the way."
The two of them left the office and went into the crowded hallway watching the kids on their way to various classes. Matthew reached over and set his hand on Xaviers shoulder and everyone froze. Turning to Matthew, Xavier said, "Well, it certainly is an extraordinary gift. The ability to freeze time is no small feat. I can't say I've ever met another mutant with this ability, Matthew."
"Are you going to kick me out of the school for lying to you?"
"No, Matthew. I understand why you kept this from us. It is an incredible burden to have control over time. I imagine it can be quite lonely."
Nodding his head Matthew was tearing up a little.
"Matthew, I'm going to keep this between us until you're ready to tell other people. Would you be okay with having private lessons with me once a week to learn to better control this power of yours?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Very good. Bring us back to real time and let us join the rest of the students. It's nearly time for your next class." | I had been to the school for a month already, but had yet to make any friends. I guess teleportation put some people off as being too powerful, and the blue guy who kept hanging around me kept people away as he was Omega. I guess he stuck close because I could teleport also.
Walking down the hallway I watched my wannabe glide down the stairs with grace. She called herself the Violet Sparrow and her purple costume hugged her form. He had told her once that her costume was more purple than violet but that didn't go over well.
I had been trying to get her to talk to him for weeks now, but to no avail. I sighed as I watched her put of the corner of my eye and saw when she missed a step and started to fall.
Quick as a wink I froze time and headed toward her. I side stepped the Angry Bee, what a silly name, and positioned myself to catch her. I let time progress slowly so that she seemed to melt into my arms as delicate as a snowflake. A purple snowflake, anyway. Once I had her supported I let time resume its flow.
"Oh! Wow, thanks!" she exclaimed as she turned to look at her savior. I smiled as we locked gazes and I saw her smile, my heart leaping with joy, "You're Instant Transport, aren't you? I've noticed you around".
I blushed at the stupid name, I had come up with it on the top of my head without much thought and now it had stuck. No way to change it.
"Oh, yes, Violet Sparrow. I've noticed you too" I stammered, hoping it was the right thing to say, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine", she replied, disengaging herself from my grasp, "Thanks for the catch" she beamed. "I have to head to my next class now".
"Oh, yeah, me too. See you around, I guess."
I watched as she glided up the stairs and was saw her turn and say, "You know, a few of us were going to the park later, did you want to come along?"
"Sure!", I exclaimed sounding too eager, "I mean, yeah, I'd like that."
The Violer Sparrow smiked and went up the stairs out of sight.
I glided down the hall dreaming of the park we'd hile heading to my class when the entire building shook with a huge explosion from the top floor, the sound deafing me temporarily.
I froze time and ran up the stairs with my heart in my throat fearing the worst. At the top of the stairs I looked around with disbelief at the carnage the explosion had caused. I saw the bodies of many students lying on the ground in pools of blood, most were not moving. I looked for it then I saw it, the color purple.
With hesitant steps approached and saw I was too late, the Violet Sparrow's lifeless form was rendered almost unrecognizable from the blast.
"NO!", I yelled, then without thought did that which I swore I would never do again. Beads of sweat started to form on my forehead as I concentrated and a terrible headache started to form, as those around me started once again to move, but backwards.
I made time back up until the air was filled with shrapnel returning to the source of the explosion. I looked at the source and saw it coalesce into a room, then a door deforming to contain the blast.
I let time back up a few more minutes, then let it creep forward as I opened the door to the room with the bomb. It took a lot of strength to move the door ads inertia tried to keep it closed. Once the door was open I went inside and stopped time again.
I searched the room and found the bomb hidden in a desk, a rather small looking thing that didn't seem it could cause such chaos. Bombs weren't my specialty but it was rather easy to dismantle the bomb especially since it had no chance of exploding.
Once the bomb was safely dismantled I let time resume its normal flow and left the room.
The students were walking g to class, with no knowledge that they had died, and came back. Or didn't die in the first place. Will have been dead? I'd have to reread that section in The Hitchhiker's Guide to get the proper terminology.
From the stairwell I heard someone fall. Crap! The Violet Sparrow! I ran down the stairs and saw her sitting at the bottom rubbing her foot. I wasn't there to catch her this time.
"You okay?" I asked as I went to help her up. She brushed off my advances, "I'm fine" she muttered as she went down the hall.
Damn it! There went my chances of the park. Sometimes I just hate time manipulation.
At that moment I watched a portal open up in front of me as and the Great Doctor Strange stepped through.
"We need to talk", he told me.
"Damn it!" | 2022-11-09T16:36:25 | 2020-07-15T08:27:21 | 9,106 | 16 |
[WP] You are a chef working for a pizza place which is a mafia front, but you don't really care. All you care about is how to make the best goddamn pizza in town, and not even armed gunmen from a rival family can stop that! | 'Do it motherfucker! Do it!'
The chef had a gun pressed against his temple, and beads of sweat were running down both of their foreheads. It was hot in the kitchen, especially during peak hours. The chef was accustomed to it, but what was making him sweat was the thinking about how slippy the mafia guy's hands were, becoming more alarmed when the guy readjusted his fingers on the grip of the gun.
'Put the damn pepperoni under the cheese! Do it! Tuck them in!' the mafioso screamed. A peek of his white shirt was seen as he strained in his dark navy jacket.
The chef refused. His objections shaken out of him as his body rattled under his uncontainable anxiety.
'If you put it under the cheese it doesn't crisp up!' the chef yelped.
'Well, on the south side of toswn they make it under the cheese. My mother, 75 years old, makes it with it under the cheese. Are you saying that my dear mother, is wrong!? eh!? EH!?'
Tears and sweat ran from the same tap down the chef's face. His eyes straining and his throat tightened. As his nostrils opened wide he got a lung full of air with a hint of pizza dough. He continued to refuse.
'Alright, Alright! Let me try this piece of shit un-tucked pizza! Then, you're gonna call my mother and tell her that she's beautiful and amazing, and then I'm gonna-' he stopped, taking a bite of a fresh pepperoni pizza.
'Ma, why have you lied to me all these years?' he said, with a single tear running down his cheek. 'All these years she kept this from me, my own mother - can you believe it?'
He hugged the chef tight.
'Why'd you do this to me Ma!?' he cried.
The chef consoled the poor man, hushing in his ears.
'It's alright, you're part of the crispellies now. We'll take care of ya.'
____
Edit: My first award! Thanks! :D | They walked into the pizzeria in their overcoats. Their collars raised high. They wore fedoras and smoked cigars and their oxford shoes click-clacked behind them.
"Where's Corleone?" One wrinkled old face asked.
I rolled the dough out and tossed it into the air. "What's your business?"
"You know our business," he said. Two men stepped up to his side. Pistols peeked through their overcoats.
I tossed the dough again. "You want Corleone, you find him. You'll find him if he needs you, or you need him. He has people. This is not the way."
"Not the way?" They all laughed a low maniacal laugh. "Give me any more lip, and we'll bust holes through you."
I tossed the dough, caught it again. Then I took the pizza sauce and spread it on the dough which had now taken the shape of a pizza.
"Here? Don't be silly. You want to bust holes through me in the city centre?" I laughed. "Fellas, you aren't thugs. Better watch it."
"Smart tongue. You talk big, kid. Don't underestimate us." The old man pointed to his head. "Look at these hair. They're white. You know what that means?"
"That you're an old fool," I said and added mozzarella to the pizza.
The old man's face screwed up into a look of disgust. "You just don't get it, huh. Corleone. Give me Corleone, kid. And you just might make it."
I smirked, took two little balls of dough, spread them, tossed them, and threw them at the faces of the two gunmen. I ducked. There were gunshots. A decorative plate on the wall was shattered. Below the counter, I felt for the handle of the hatch, opened it, and slid in. I locked it from inside.
From inside my hiding place, I heard the screams of people in the shop, and the shuffling of feet as someone climbed over the counter. Then I heard the police siren wail. The sound got closer and closer. Only then did I get out of the hatch.
The mafia men were gone. The people were gone, there was nobody in the shop. The police sirens were heard, but the car was still some distance away. There was no one, except for my half-done pizza. And I was adding the topping when the police came. They inquired about the gunshots.
"They wore low fedoras, smoked cigars, and wore heavy overcoats. I didn't see their faces," I told them.
They didn't press the matter any further, and I took the ready-to-bake pizza and put it in the oven.
(Join r/kid_r0cK for more stories.) | 2020-12-19T05:51:51 | 2020-12-19T05:23:48 | 1,461 | 338 |
[WP] "What are you doing!?" "Looking up the answer on Google." "You can't do that!" "Is there a rule against it?" "Well, no, but-" "Then I'm doing it." "Look, this is a lost chamber of untold ancient wonders and I am a riddle telling guardian, it just seems to ruin the spirit of the whole thing!" | "I get it, I really do. When I set out on this adventure I was so ready to do it all by the book. Walking everywhere, camping, no modern tech at all. But do you know how *long* that all takes?" The adventurer barely looked from her phone.
"Hey, I ask the questions here." A clearly annoyed statue stood before her, arms crossed as it blocked the door, waiting for the answer to it's riddle.
"The point is, there is a lot at stake, and we can't really afford to waste time if we don't have to. I could either spend a year walking across the world, or I could hop on a plane and get where I'm going in a matter of hours. Don't get me wrong, some parts of the journey have been more classic. Getting here was no easy task."
"Well obviously. It's a '*LOST CHAMBER*' if it was easy to find it would just be a chamber." The guardian interrupted, causing the adventurer to look up, a slight smile on her face from the sass.
"True. And I never would have found the location by myself. The cryptic clues and just as cryptic answers would have been totally lost on me if not for the internet." She lowered her phone, looking the guardian in it's stone eyes. "I have a mission to accomplish. If the spirit that showed up and gave me this quest is right, I could be preventing the end on the world. I'd rather not cut that too close, you know?"
"It's just... you're the first person to actually find me in 1000 years. There was no technology, no Google to pull the answers from. When I was made it was expected that the ones who found me would be the worthy, the ones tough enough to make it here by their own power, and smart enough to figure out where it is. Not just some kid with a phone asking reddit for help." If it was possible for a stone face to look depressed, this one did.
"You know about reddit?"
"Magic stuff. Keeps me updated with the latest information from around the world. Did you not question why I speak English when I'm out in the middle of a South Asian forest? Or how you had a signal out here? I have a connection to your Internet."
"Oh my god, you hypocrite! You can't give me shit for using the Internet to find the answers when you're pulling your riddles from the same place!" The adventurer laughed, and she could swear the stone guardian's face cracked into a slight smile. "Oh and the answer is 'an egg' by the way." | “Then you’re TOTALLY not going to like the next part. Will you quit bellyaching and accept that I have the answer?”
The guardian stepped to the side, bowed grudgingly, and the door to the chamber opened with that classic, scraping stone noise you see in movies.
Erica squealed at the novelty, “So like, is it an ancient-secrets-you-never-imagined type thing or more like think-it-and-it-appears type thing?”
The guardian stared at this slight human, much lesser than the pharaohs and emperors that gad consulted the chamber before. All because of the glowing object she held, and all because she controlled it with such prowess. It may have been petty, but he rolled his eyes at her and refused to answer.
“Okay like, fine, I’ll figure it out. It can’t be that big of a deal if Google knows your so-called riddles,” and with that, Erica fixed her hair, straightened her crop top with “slay the day” in large, glittery print, gave her white jean booty shorts a pad, and flexed her toes in the teal flip-flops before striding in like the queen she was.
She raised her phone up and turned on the flashlight, jumping with a start the next moment as the bewildered guardian boomed behind her, “You, YOU of all, wield a star in your hand as well?”
He briefly considered retirement; clearly, he had failed to stay informed about how times had changed. Maybe it was time to crumble into dust and scatter into the sands.
“Oh, boo. You really have no idea? Okay just, holdon, like, I gotta find the thingy. Do you know The Thingy?”
Resigned and deflated, the guardian entertained her question, “What is this Thingy?”
“It’s like... oh, I see it!” Erica squatted down in front of an orb and the guardian felt terrified at the sly choice the girl had made. She had chosen the Orb of Choice, which all previous visitors had passed on for fear of the implications, the events, possibly put in motion by the one all-encompassing choice it allowed the bearer to make.
“First, boo, let me tell you about Chad.” A tear rolled down Erica’s cheek and her bottom lip trembled but for a moment before she shook her head sharply and gathered her composure. “Actually, we’ll have time to talk after I do this.”
Erica closed her eyes, held the orb above her head, and spoke her command, “There will ALWAYS be a LEGO under Chad’s foot after every 156.5 step he takes.”
The Orb of Choice glowed but for a moment before shattering and dispersing into the wind.
She turned back to the guardian who contemplated her with respect. He did not know what a LEGO was, but he was certain that this girl was a force to be reckoned with.
“Alright, boo, let’s catch you up on the world!” Her cheerful, bubbly mannerisms had returned and she seemed exceedingly joyous, “but you gotta come with me and we’ll have a boba and talk, mkay?”
And so, the guardian followed Erica, to him the apparent ruler of the universes, to learn about the world. | 2021-04-20T10:08:36 | 2021-04-20T09:57:52 | 71 | 25 |
[WP] Bartenders serve drinks as a side job. Their real profession? Hunting down every person named Bart. You are the last Bart alive, and they will stop at nothing to kill you. | "You understand it's nothing personal kid. I just got a job to do." The bartender said.
"What job? You serve drinks for Gods sake." Bart replied.
"Oh that, it's just a front for information gatherring. After all who do you tell all your problems to?" The bartender said maliciously. "As for the job well didn't you wonder why we are called bartenders?"
"So this is it, your going to kill me in this basement all for the sake of a stupid pun?"
"Its not a stupid pun, it's a sacred order an ancient band of brothers in blood."
"Of course it is." Bart said rolling his eyes. "It's just a little on the nose though. Why didn't you at least use an anagram, something that makes people think a bit."
"Like what? What possibly could be better than Bart Ender?"
"If I tell you will you let me go?"
"No."
"Fine, you tender bra." | It was a long shift. The rain had come in early, so the bar was quiet. The seats were cold except for those warmed by a few regulars who had nowhere better to be.
At quarter-to-midnight a group of well dressed guys came in. I could tell that their night had started much earlier. One of the group was wearing a wedding dress. His three accomplices were wanting shots - vodka - followed by a round of beers. The taller man with glasses said my bar was the last on their list. They were all staying at the Hilton around the corner and the chav in the dress was getting married on Sunday.
I wished the man in white all the best and gave them the beers for free. I started up a conversation with the taller patron. He said that Bart and his fiancé we're high-school sweethearts. They had been living off the grid - out west - for the last 4 years on a corn farm. The crew were old friends of his from a Jazz quartet they started in their first year of college. They all drifted apart with COVID when the live music scene faded away - Bart had drifted the furthest.
The second round was ordered quickly. I put 40mg furosemide in one of the beers and positioned it closest to Bart.
I kept polishing the same glass. Watching as the thirsty lads laughed and reminisced the good times.
Bart got up from his seat about 10 minutes later. I followed him towards the men's room as I screwed the silencer onto my Walther PDP. Last drinks, Bart. | 2021-04-25T09:18:51 | 2021-04-25T06:08:36 | 109 | 32 |
[WP] Questing heroes, healers, and desperate peasants, they all come to you garden in search of the 'healing' herb. At first you didn't mind sharing but they're over harvesting. You'd teach them to cultivate it but they're prejudiced against ogres. Thieving racists. | Industry, the grand machine, ever moving, ever living, ever profitable. Industry is never something Garnet was interested in, but of course, he had to make a living. Garnet loved botany, cultivation, working the land in any way, it was his passion.
"Do you do like a subscription service? I'd just love to know I can rely on a basket of this stuff every week" - a shrill, grating voice from a traveler drew Garnet from his musings.
"No... You can harvest a bunch for eighty scrib though" Garnet replied, mordantly.
The young, inattentive traveler sighed, "lets just go to that potion place down the road, Potpon, I hear they deliver by interdimensional owl, how quaint is that!?" he continued, to his friend, as they exited the store without so much as an acknowledgement of Garnet.
Garnet sighed, a sigh of relief mostly, that he wouldn't have to deal with that particular customer again, but the relief faded as he remembered that more would be coming, endlessly.
Garnet had been farming his prize crop, the healing herb, for years now. It had been a buzz with the locals, and he'd occasionally get adventurers wandering in for a bunch to keep them spry on their journeys, they'd even offer him wares from their adventures in far off lands as trade. It was fun, informal, and he could keep up to it.
A few months back though, one of the locals misguidedly wrote into a widely circulated newsfold about the store, and how wonderful Garnet was, and how incredible the healing herb was. The next few weeks were filled with floods of stampeding noses vying for a cut of the crop. It became work, not good work, good work was working the land and dealing with a few customers each day. This was needing an extra pair of hands, so that Garnet could stand behind a counter day in, day out, dealing with hordes of customers.
"It's a lot ain't it chief?" another voice pulled Garnet out of his ruminations, this time it was an urbane looking chap with a twinkle in his eye. "How bouts' we work out a deal mista...." he ended quizzingly.
"Garnet, name's Garnet. What kinda deal?" he replied.
"Well, seems to me a chap like you ain't in'tall this industry lark am I right? You're a man of the land ain't yah? Don't wanna be stuffed up in a shop all day, no matter the scrib" the suave man continued.
"Not much I can do about that now is there? They just keep coming." replied Garnet, deflated.
"How's 'bout I put you in touch with som'n who'd love ta' learn to grow this stuff? You'cn teach em' all you know, for a handsome price, then you can drive all'em customers to im!" proposed the man.
"That would be nice, but how would I make a living then?" replied Garnet.
"We'w, we could work out a commission model init, every 10 scrib we make, you get 2, or something of the likes, that ain't no guarantee, I'd need to chew the numba's first" replied the man.
"Hmm... I'm not sure... This is all very industrious, I'm not sure this is what I want" replied Garnet, not sure what he wanted.
The man leaned in close, wiggled his finger to draw in Garnet, then whispered "listen, if it's 'bout them ogres, we ain't gonna sell to no ogre. Us industrious folk don't want no dealin's with them sort".
Garnet reeled, he knew there was prejudices, but nothing of the level to outright refuse business to them. If the whole stink of industry didn't put him sideways on the idea, the prejudice of it did. "Tell you what, I'll think on it, come back in the noon on next and I'll have an answer" he finished.
The industrious man made pleasantries and exited the store, sure he had convinced Garnet of the deal.
The next day, the man returned at noon, only to find a sign on the door reading "Closed for business". He peered in through the time-stained windows, to notice all of the plant journals gone, and upon visiting the farmyard in back, not a single herb remained.
A hundred thoupaces to the north, Garnet steered a caravan chocked full of his life's work, destined for some new town in some new land, where nobody knew him. | It's called a "botanical garden" when humans do it.
It's called "letting a field get overgrown with weeds" when ogres do it.
Not our fault that humans don't see the value in burdock and thistles, or can't grow their own food sustainably, or can't have more than two plants growing in the same patch of dirt without falling into a panic.
I've been working in this field for sixteen years, now. Before, the worst we'd get was tourists stopping by to take pictures, trampling over the undergrowth because they didn't realise that the weed under their boots was the very valuable and very endangered Golden Creepvine.
"Well, plant it further in the field so people won't walk on it!" they'd say.
"It grows where it wants to grow, not where we want to grow it," we'd explain. "Also, just don't fucking trespass?"
Then there was the summer of the flower-crown fad. We didn't awfully mind visitors picking daisy heads and dandelion heads, but when the elves turned it into a prestige thing and started picking the Half-sun Berry blossoms...
Now *that* was a fun scandal. I don't regret throwing a hoe at them, not one bit.
Lately, though, we've been getting a new sort of attention. Two of my favourite little Asters cross-bred without my meaning them to, and the resultant plants have some quite interesting properties. One of the junior gardeners suspects they might be able to produce a potent balm, with a few more generations of selective breeding and refinement.
News got out not long after--and as is always the case, the headlines were sensationalised. "Healing Herb!" "Magic Cure-All!" "Common Houseplant Holds the Secret to Eternal Health!"
Yes, technically asters are common. A cross between two different genera within the family? Well, pardon me for disagreeing with the popular opinion that that's 'common.' I'm sure my sixteen years of cultivation experience mean nothing compared to a hobby-gardener who once planted sunflowers.
The first thief we caught was in the greenhouse. He was picking up pots and dumping them into a black garbage bag, apparently unaware that being in a dark, air-tight space, jostled and upside-down, is what we professionals call a 'bad idea for keeping your plants alive.'
The next few we caught wandering through the fields, noses to the ground, checking for the fabled purple-and-white petals that would mark the special aster hybrid. None of them were anywhere near the right area--which they would have known, if they had bothered to talk to any of our tour guides beforehand--but it was still an unpleasant reminder of how people can be.
"But they're just growing wild!" one had said, indignant that we were claiming ownership of the fields. "It's not a garden or anything, it's just plants."
I'd very much like to know what a garden is, in a human's eyes, if not 'just plants.' Ah, of course; you have to *control* it for it to be a garden. Silly me.
We hired on a few extra security guards, and began *selling* seedlings of the new aster, despite how much it delayed our cultivation efforts. Maybe caving to the human way of doing business would dissuade them from being thieves?
We sold out within a day. Castle gardeners, herbalists, wannabe-heroes, wannabe-wizards, and one person I'm 97% sure was an *actual* wizard. Most of the plants went to people who probably had no intention of joining the seed-share program, which means that, evolutionarily-speaking, those seedlings had just become genetic dead-ends.
Last night things reached a head.
People know what the new hybrid looks like, but 'knowing' and 'practically recognising it' are two different things. We had someone pass by after closing hours, sneak into the fields, and tear up *every single aster* we had planted--and even some things that only vaguely *looked* like asters.
The marigolds, the calendulas, even the daisies. The Buckeye-Mimic Ivy. The Feather-Frond Ice Flowers. Every single cultivar of our High-Point Lilies.
Walking through the fields, we felt a deep ancestral rage at the churned earth, the chopped roots, the trampled grass. How can humans not notice the game trails? Why do they insists on walking straight to wherever they want to go, stomping down delicate seedlings and saplings as they go?
Because of this, dear clients, we are sad to say our gardens are now closed to all non-giant-kin. Our gardeners have made the decision to reintroduce into the public areas our collection of rare, exotic, and custom-cultivar phytotoxic plants!
Those of you who have enjoyed viewing our Spitting Nightshades, Jade-Leaf Acid Pitchers, and even our Hell-Heat Pop-Peppers -- and yes, they really do *pop*! -- you can now enjoy them in the wild, growing in a thriving and self-regulating ecosystem. Don't worry, your giant blood will protect you from the worst of the effects, and we offer special hiking boots and salves to those more sensitive to the chemical burns and lacerations.
Our human friends are invited to visit our greenhouses; now with paths! | 2021-06-13T15:06:14 | 2021-06-13T13:57:47 | 38 | 18 |
[WP] You're an author who signed up for a writing conference. Sitting at a table surrounded by deities, you realized you may have misunderstood what the advertising meant by "world-building". | "So you're telling me you purposefully include imperfections in these worlds you create?"
Not for the first time today, I wondered if l had made a mistake coming here. Some of the discussions were incredibly basic even though the advertisement had mentioned nothing about this being an entry level convention
"Well, character growth feels earned when driven by conflict, so a satisfying hero's arc will usually involve attempts at fixing flaws in the systems they're a part of, which will have some form of parallel with the flaws they need to fix within themselves."
The impossibly attractive author sitting across me stared thoughtfully for a moment, before standing up to shake my tentacle.
"Thank you my good zobzak, you've given me a lot to think about for my new project, **Earth**".
I felt the world around me shake as he spoke the last word, and in the next moment, he was gone
Something finally clicked in my head
Oh... Crap | "Let us start with the opening now" I continued "how should we set the tone ?"
"It should be happy themed" said the man in the dark cloak with scythe.
"No, it should be filled with horrors, cries, death every where" said the lady with a rice bowl in her hand with a happy face.
"Before that we need to build the world setting, rules, locations etc.."
"Ok martin let us start with that .." continued the man with a crown "What do you say mr ..."
"Deadman" I said
"Really...?"
"Yes"
"Fine what do you say"
"Let us have a city"
"No it should be an empty wasteland"
"It would be better it to be a historic drama, more people used believe in us back then"
"Yes martin, people these days don't have any any faith these days. Let us ask our Mr Calamity to for some chaos what do you say martin"
"Yes, I agree with you"
"I am pinging calamity wait" said the lady with a happy face
"Wait wait we are discussing about a story here" I said "not ways to make people life miserable"
"We will create a calamity and you follow some one and make a story out of him."
"That.."
"So that's it then discussion over" finished Martin
"See you lad.."
"So much work to do .. " said the man with the scythe
"Calamity ..." continued the lady with a wide smile.
Noises faded I am left alone.
Few days later in the news
"COVID 19 , a new disease spreading like wild fire"
"People suffering"
"Death toll at its highest"
"What have I done ...." I exclaimed | 2022-01-08T23:30:36 | 2022-01-08T22:05:30 | 96 | 34 |
[WP] You're hired to wind down a dying newspaper. When you arrive at the building, you're met by eager reporters and a bustling office full of people trying to break stories. It's actually haunted, they're all ghosts, but they're doing FANTASTIC journalism and you might be able to save this place. | I've heard about local news establishments hiring ghost writers, but this is just nuts.
A legion of Caspers, fielding calls and tapping away at keyboards, haunted the scene before me. I'd been sent to slash them down. Jonah Buster, that's my name. But I'm not that kind of Buster. I've busted plenty of unions, but no ghosts.
"Our exposé on the refried beans that were actually only fried once got us a Pulitzer nomination." The apparition before me tugged at his bow-tie, beaming with pride.
"That's quite the Monster Mash," I said.
The news office went quiet. "What did you say?"
"Mash, as in mashed beans. And you know ... you're m—"
Office supplies poltergeisted through the air and one of the ghost journalists rattled a chain enraged. "We're not monsters! We're professionals! Do you even know how we all died?"
I hadn't thought about that part. "Overwork?"
"No! We were fried. Like beans. Then our corpses got fried again! That's right; we got refried. Maybe think twice before you open your mouth."
"B-By the bean company?"
The ghosts erupted into a séance of laughter. "You mere mortal fool. Journalism is a dead profession, you know, so it suits us just right."
"Just *wraith*, more like."
A huge printer flew through the air and crashed straight into me. I felt a warm liquid surrounding me. "I-Ink!? Phew, no ... It's just blood."
"Are you a guy sitting alone at a restaurant on a Friday night with an empty bottle of wine and a cold quiche? Because I think you just got ghosted."
I looked at my hands. I could see right through them. Never before had I been so transparent. "This can't be happening. This must be some kind of printer error."
The reporters started chanting, "Ghost! Ghost! Ghost!" and I realized that I was no longer Jonah. I was Ghost. Ghost Buster.
"Ghost!" I cried. "Ghost!"
I was done slashing budgets and busting unions. It was time to get spooky. And I had just the--"Uh, wait." A strange pull dragged me away from the news office and before I knew it I found myself outside some gates decorated with various pearls.
"Mr. Jonah Buster?"
A bearded dude with a clipboard eyed me with disinterest.
"That's me. But I, uh, I go by Ghost Buster now."
"Might as well change it to Angel Buster, buddy. You're in. Congrats."
"Wait, really? But what about all those reporters? They all became ghosts instead of angels."
"Oh, yeah. They tried to form a union. The big guy doesn't approve of that stuff. You, on the other hand, boy! You busted so many unions you made the big guy blush. Some angels have been talking about getting organized so ..."
"Oh. I'm here for ... work?"
The bearded guy shrugged. "That's how it is."
As I stepped inside, the Holy Ghost appeared before me. "Welcome, Buster. Care for a snack?" He tore open a can of refried beans.
It smelled like heaven. | The Daily Phantasm’s offices are a shutter-flash buzz of activity, the wavering lights of a thousand restless ghosts. You’re moved by it, even after all this time.
*“Thirty Killed As National Guard Busts Pullman Strike!”* a boy is shouting. His voice echoes thin and reedy and then falls silent. He’s gone.
*“Roosevelt Mistress Exposé!”* shouts a young, slip-thin woman.
*“The Shocking Truth Behind The President’s Alcoholism!”*
*“Bigfoot Real!”*
*“Murder!”*
*“Murder!”*
*“Murder!”*
You walk through the pandemonium, drinking it in. Like bigfoot, everything they’re shooting about is real, though it’s never timed quite right and too often it’s nonsensical. The dead are brutally honest, but they are not sober writers. So much editing.
Still, you think there’s something here. You can feel it. Ghosts pass by, singly or in small, tight-knit groups, and they carry with them the world’s dirty little secrets. Every person here is a skeleton in someone’s closet. Most of them haunted the halls of power before, shouting just as loudly there, though no one seemed to listen.
You’ll listen though. You sit on the bench outside your office and let the stories wash over you. No more bigfoots, everyone knows he’s real. Roosevelt doesn’t play anymore, though maybe that one could become a book. You sift through the noise, looking for something you can use.
*“This just in,”* someone screams, *“car crash on I-495! Record-Setting Pileup Staged to Kill VIP, You’ll Never Believe This Shocking Footage!”*
There’s something, you think. You drive the 495 to the office every day same as everyone else, and you hadn’t heard about it; could this ghost have died just now? You start to sift him from the crowd. The headline is hyperbolic, some conspiracy theory nonsense, but you can look into it. If it’s recent this ghost might even remember where he left the footage. And anyway, that sounds like a lot of cars.
*“Pileup, Pileup,”* he’s shouting. The crowd parts, letting you in. They can sense it, recent news is electric. It makes the office feel so much more alive. A few of them are calling out to you, pointing.
*“Shocking Footage! VIP!”*
You see him. So young. A sick green halo around stick-thin arms, these wide, crazy eyes. He’s shouting at everyone who will listen, gesticulating wildly. A recent death. All the others just shout, stare off into space as they try to tell their story.
*“Shocking Footage, Shocking Footage!”*
“Hey!” you say, “when did you die? Lisa? Someone get me Lisa, we might have a story!”
And this, this is what you live for. The ghost turns towards you, those wide, crazy eyes. He goes flashbulb bright with excitement, the story is getting out.
All these souls, skeletons in closets that someone is finally going to give a voice to. You’re proud of The Daily Phantasm. Anyone would be.
*“Oh my god,”* you hear Lisa say.
“Lisa! Clear room five, we’ve got work to do!”
*“Oh my god,”* she says, *“you don’t know, do you?”*
“Know what?” you say, and then you really hear the whispers. You look down. Your shutter-flash skin. A tattered, burned-up suit.
*"Oh no,"* you try to say.
Your mouth opens and a scream tears out. Your story. Another skeleton in another closet as the world keeps on turning.
r/TurningtoWords | 2022-03-31T08:28:03 | 2022-03-31T08:25:21 | 138 | 60 |
[WP] A child's imaginary friend is not as imaginary as his family believes... | "Son, you have to understand something. There are some things children do and there are some things they *dont*! And telling lies is definitely something that you do not do!"
"But dad -!"
He was cut off mid protest, "Also, do not start a sentence with the word *but*".
He took a deep breath and said, "Dad, I did not scratch the seats! In fact I did not even go near the car! You know who it was! It was h-."
His dad did not seem convinced, "You and your imagination! We have been over this time and again! Imaginary friends do not come to life. In fact, you are to go to your room, and write down the meaning of 'imagination' a hundred times!"
"A hundre-!"
This time he was cut off by the glare in his fathers eyes! He ran into his room and shut the door behind him!
This time, he glared at the large tiger curled up on his bed, "Hobbes! You have some writing to do!"
"But Calvin-"
"Find a pencil and don't start a sentence with the word *but*". | It had been a long school day. Tim was tired and trots off the bus sluggishly. He disposes of his backpack stocked with books in the front hall and then flops onto the couch. No ones home but that isn't unusual, his parents don't get home from work till around 4:00. He wants to watch T.V. but there's nothing on, so he thinks he'll watch a movie instead.
The closet is dark and dusty, stock full of home movies and abandoned VHS tapes and he pulls out a really good classic: Spy Kids. He watched this all the time in his younger years.
He used to be Timmy then, but wants to sound older now. I mean he is 17. He laughs at his silly ways in middle school trying to grow up so fast. Abandoning little nicknames and old toys alike. Abandoning old friends sometimes too.
Shrugs. *Why the hell not?* he thinks, popping it in the player. All of a sudden static floods the screen. Through bursts of Spy Kids logo comes a faint image of a room. In his house. His living room. The figures in it become familiar as his parents. One of them is tied up the other battling something. Nothing actually. He squints trying to make out if there's an animal of some kind that his father is swatting at and he gets nothing. Then he sees a small face. A floating face, growing a chest, and with it arms and legs and a full on body. It's a little kid. He knows that kid, that thing...that monster. The screen goes black and the lights shut off and Tim hears a shrill voice from the back of his head...
"We can play now Timmy. We can play. They didn't believe in me Timmy. We can play." | 2013-10-12T07:00:41 | 2013-10-12T06:50:34 | 25 | 15 |
[WP] You have 30 seconds with an ancestor of yours from 200 years ago (1814), before they are transported back to their time. What do you say to them? What effect appears in our world because of it?
Consider for the sake of this prompt that they aren't totally freaked out by being plopped into 2014, that they can understand you, and that they'll continue their life as normal back in their time, only with the knowledge of whatever you told them with your 30 seconds time. | "Apple stock!"
"What? An apple orchard?"
"No, no...Apple is a company! It won't exist until 1976."
"1976??? What kind of witchcraft is..."
"Listen to me! We don't have much time. You need to tell this to your children, and they need to tell their children. Apple stock. 1976. Your future ancestors need to put every penny they have into it. It will make future generations of your family incredibly wealthy! The Harold name will be one of the most respected in the country!"
"All right, apple stock, I will tell them."
"Remember, not really app.."
*Connection terminated*
"..les. Carol? What's it look like out there?"
"Apple trees, John. There must be a thousand acres of them."
"Dammit. OK, Carol, you were right, I owe you $10. Listen, what about Standard Oil? We would need to tell them to watch out around 1911, but we might end up with stock in BP, Exxon, Conoco, and Chevron today."
"Yeah, or they might get cheated out of their investment by John D. We lost your great-uncle the last time it went bad, remember?"
"I think it's worth the risk. Setting the time-coordinates -10 minutes, bringing batteries to power..." | I was looking at my great great grandfather James Cater and wishing he would have taught his kids not to hate when all of a sudden he appears in front of me. I hear a voice in my head telling me that if I think I can do a better job then I have 30 seconds to make him changes his mind.
James is currently 12 years old and I say to him, one day you are going to have kids and it is important you teach them that everyone and I meam everyone is equal and has a right to their life. If not the world will be a horrible place to be. James says okay he will try and then he is gone.
Let me explain a little something. Apparently my great grandfather was the reason the south won the civil war and ultimately caused America to start being indignant towards the rest of the world in the mid nineteen hundreds Americas president decided to start killing all people that werent "American enough". Well the world retaliated and America is now a wasteland. The bombs from every countries arsenal landed in every city with over 5000 people and the damage done to infrastucture is beyond repair. There wasnt a government left to surrender.
The voice says in my head, lets see how you did. You will keep your memories of this but the rest of the world would never believe you.
All of a sudden my new life floods in. It turns out James made so much of a point about people being equal that his sons went and fought for the north even though they were residents of north carolina.
America fought a tough war but eventually thw north won and the slave were freed. It seems that residual hate of blacks still exists though 149 years after the end of the civil war.
A man named Hitler tried to make the world hate people that were different and the world joined forces to wnsure this would never happen again.
I dont understand why people feel the way they do. Why would anyone want to try and prevent someone from just having a fair shake in life?
I am not sure if the world is better or not but I am now at least proud of my family. | 2014-05-09T05:26:59 | 2014-05-09T05:25:48 | 183 | 15 |
[WP] Every ten years, you must go in front of a board of peers who will evaluate your life for you. If you do not "Impress your peers" you will be executed. | The wait was always the worst, Nikamo knew that, but this time was the hardest of all. In all honesty, he was surprised he had made it this far. "They'll hang you at the next hearing if you keep this up, you little rascal" his mother always told him, yet here he was about to have yet another hearing, not a day younger than 60.
"Nice day for it, isn't it?" Nikamo asked the only other person in the waiting room with him in an attempt to distract himself from the hearing, looming above him like an ominous shadow. It was a man who looked to be twenty, staring intently at his shoes. He jerked his head up, his face looking as if he had just been sentenced, and followed Nikamo's finger as it pointed at the light drizzle outside the window.
"It's raining." The man mumbled, his eyes lingering for a moment on the feather-plumed hat on Nikamo's head before they wandered back down to his feet..
"That's what I'm saying." Nikamo said with a wry smile. "If you're going to die, you'd best go out in shitty weather, that way you won't miss it so much."
"I'd rather not die at all." The man muttered, shooting side wards glances at the door to the hearing room. Nikamo remembered his own second hearing. That was the one where he had almost shit himself, he was so nervous. Back then he couldn't stop going over all the stupid things he had done and all the mistakes he had made, promising every god he could think of he'd give it all if he just got another chance, just ten more years. And then he passed and a week later he forgot all about his promise. After all, the next hearing was a decade away.
"Unfortunately, that's not for either of us to decided." Nikamo said and took a swig from the flask in his jacket pocket before offering it to his new companion. "I'm Nikamo, at your service."
"Sam." The man said as his eyes hungrily licked the flask, but with an effort he managed to shake his head. "I'd better not." Sam said. "Best if I stay sharp." Nikamo shrugged as if to say 'your loss', took another swig for himself and leaned back, putting his feet on the table between them.
"You don't look worried." Sam said and he was right, Nikamo wasn't worried.
Nikamo sighed and stroked his beard. "I used to be." He said, reminiscing about all the times he had sat in this room, awaiting his chance to plead for his life. "I damn near pissed myself, thought I was going to die for sure each and every time." He let out a sigh and filled the void it left behind with a mouthful of whiskey. "Not this time though."
Sam looked as though he was about to ask a question, but then he closed his mouth and when he opened it again he said, "I've been studying nights for a year now. Working all day, studying all night. You don't think... You don't think they'd...?" He trailed off and bit his lip.
"Think they'd kill you? No, surely not." Nikamo waved the notion away like a fly. "If someone like me made it all this time I don't even know who they fail. A good kid like you will breeze right through it."
There was a soft beep over the radio com and a woman's voice said "Nikamo Costa, please step through the door to the hearing room. Nikamo Costa, please step through the door to the hearing room."
Nikamo slowly stood up and took a sweeping bow, removing his feather-plumed hat with a flourish. "A pleasure." He said, placed the hat back on his head and strode towards the door with a spring in his step.
"Wait!" Sam called out as Nikamo's hand touched the doorknob. The question he'd been meaning to ask sprung forth before he could stop himself. "What makes you think they're not going to kill you this time?"
Nikamo turned around slowly and pursed his lips, frowning slightly as he thought this over. "I don't think they're going to kill me because this time, I know they're going to kill me." He nodded to himself, satisfied that he had summed the situation up adequately and added, "No sense worrying about a thing you can't change." | I shifted somewhat uncomfortably in my seat. I hated sitting on these Liberty Card evaluations. Everyone had to sit on at least one a year, and more if you were singled out for being an exceptional individual. This was my fifth, and it was only August. I've never considered myself that exceptional, and my last review was only a SATISFACTORY PASS.
Every 10th birthday starting at 15 we are evaluated for contributions to society. It was a idea that arose out of the conservative social programs of the late 2010s. Anyone whose contributions to society and the nation had their Liberty Card revoked. Although considered a voluntary program in practice, it had evolved into a lifestyle of necessity. Your LC gave you access to grocery stores, hospitals, heck, even the American Evangelical Church of Freedom - the richest megachurch chain in the nation - required it for admission.
The modern evaluations were a mere shadow of their former purge-like vindictiveness. In the early days the evaluations we're run by diehards who looked for anyone who was not a patriot. My brother's 15th evaluation ended when he refused to sing the National Anthem. Now, as long as you're not a buzzhead or needler you at least got a SATISFACTORY PASS. If you were famous or rich, you usually got an EXCEPTIONAL PASS, which entitled you to free groceries and medical care - on account of your important contributions to society.
Today I sat on the evaluation board for a young Stacey Pardova. 15, solid grades, and participated in soccer, drama, and cheerleading. She was set for a solid SATISFACTORY PASS, and depending on her performance in college she could see an EXCEPTIONAL PASS if she was admitted to one of the Evangelical Freedom schools and joined the Liberty Maidens team.
"Stacey, please be seated." The head evaluator was a young man wearing a navy suit and red tie. It was a little unusual for the head evaluator to be so young, but not unheard of... Wait. All the other evaluators were young men wearing navy suits red ties.
"Stacey, before we hand out your evaluation scores, it has come to the attention of your evaluation committee that you have dated a substantial number of boys at school."
What? No it hasn't come to the attention of me, and I'm on her evaluation committee. Stacey blushed and lowered her eyes, "I was dating Jimmy Thomas for a couple months, but we only went to the movies together, nothing went on."
"We have records that show that you're lying. You have been found violating the Promiscuity Clause of the American Evangelical Church of Freedom. We have unanimously found you to be an UNSATISFACTORY member of society. You are not to be issued a Liberty Card. You are barred from attending an Evangelical Freedom school. So says your committee." Miss Padova's face paled at the decision, tears welling up in her eyes as a future full of hope evaporated in an instant.
I couldn't let this go on further. I stood up and addressed the committee. "Excuse me, I don't believe that is entirely correct. I submitted a review of Miss Padova of EXCEPTIONAL PASS, that doesn't seem to have been factored into the decision."
"Your evaluation was not considered." He had been prepared for my interjection and was clearly pleased to deliver this news to me. The other members of the committee, their brass flag pins arranged perfectly on their breasts in order.
"The rules have been changed. Only members of the Patriot Forum are now allowed to deliver evaluations for the Liberty Council. Previous evaluations have been found to be lacking in the moral character we desire. Stanley Albrecht, we are not allowing to to sit on this committee, you have been in the evaluation process yourself. I am afraid that you have also been found UNSATISFACTORY by our committee."
This was... I did not know what to say. 'Unprecedented' might be the right word, but it didn't convey the right emotions. 'Holy shit balls!' had the right emotions but not the right words. 'Unprecedented holy shit balls' maybe.
"You have no right to evaluate me at this time. I am 27, my next evaluation isn't until 35."
"We know how old you are Stanley, and we are well aware of your connection to the revolutionary Peter Albrecht. We cannot have such impure members in our civilized society."
"Peter? My brother? I haven't spoken to him in sixteen years. Not since he was refused his Liberty Card." I don't even know where Peter was. He may as well have been dead. Our family ever spoke of him once after he left.
"As an affiliate of a terrorist, you are not to be allowed to retain the benefits of the Liberty Card. Furthermore, you are a threat to our nation's security. You are to be incarcerated until such time as the severity of your crimes can be assessed, and any accomplices can be taken in."
He now turned to address both of us, together. "Stacey, Stanley, you are both moral dangers to our society. The Patriot Forum is dedicated to eliminating such human waste as yourselves. You will suffer and die for your sins against us." | 2014-06-15T13:59:44 | 2014-06-15T12:19:33 | 64 | 19 |
[WP] Women suddenly stop getting their periods. Men suddenly start. | Did you know that scientists think as much as 8% of the human genome was inserted at one point or another by a virus? All the men in my college class are at 8.01%.
Honey. Babe. Listen. About 8 years ago, I got the treatment. S90-C was required for the UC system, right after meningitis shots.
Who wouldn't get it? A 100% effective form of birth control that was quickly and painlessly reversible. The folks at Glaxo who had modified Herpes Simplex as a carrier had made sure it permanently suppressed flare-ups too.
It's weird. One birth control drug and we've literally changed what it means to be human. The stem cells that went with the virus made sure that the testes were able to continue to produce sperm in the hostile environment.
They were never supposed to cross over to the women.
No one expected that women's eggs would begin to self-repair, that they'd stop menstruating. And I'm sure the first few weeks, men experiencing interpunct thought they were just wet dreams. They are, after a fashion. S90-C kills sperm in the testes, but for the reversal to work, it can't stop the generation of new sperm. So if you don't masturbate or have sex, it just kind of ... comes out in the middle of things. Interpunct.
At least now I won't have to give my kid the sex talk. I could barely do the birds and the bees. Let alone the birds and the bees and the Glaxo-Smith-Kline treatment that rendered half the world infertile. I didn't really want kids anyway.
Really honey. I'm fine with it. We can repaint the nursery tomorrow. Maybe we'll turn it in to an office. You've been saying you wanted to work from home for a while. Babe? | "Hey Steve! Good news! You know what you were asking earlier? Weeeeelll.... It stopped. So we can- wait" Stephany stopped walking to her bedroom and backtracked to the open door of the bathroom. "What are you doing Steve?"
Steve miserably looked up at her. He sat on the ground among ribbons of red-brownish splattered toilet paper and what seemed to be her old supply of tampons and pads. She never got around to throwing them away. Always handy to have a backup anyway.
"Help me Steeeeeeeeph. It hurts!" Now that Stephany was paying attention she noticed the grimace on his face and his arms clutching his belly.
"What's wrong sweety? Did you eat something wrong?"
That started the brawling. "Noooo *snik* I was ju-hust taking a piss when, when... when I noticed my underwear was red. I'M DYING! MY ASS IS LEAKING BLOOD! MY STOMACH HURTS! PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERYYYYYYYY!!"
Stephany was taken back. Steve wasn't a crybaby. Something must really be wrong with him.
Her own luck at having her period ended early was forgotten. All that was left in her mind was helping Steve. Giving him a pat on the head she walked down the stairs quickly to go search the symptoms.
The groaning from upstairs could still be heard while the PC was turning on. She was just about to open a new tab to search the symptoms when a link on Reddit caught her eye.
1 5640 I THINK I'M HAVING A PERIOD AND I'M A DUDE AND MY GIRLFRIEND SUDDENLY HAS A PENIS AND WHAT IS GOING ON AM I DREAMING? AT LEAST SHE STILL HAS BOOBS AND SOMEONE KILL ME THE PAIN IS KILLING ME!
It took a look down and a pat to confirm that, jup, she had a penis now. And... No more periods! And if she understood this right then this would mean... that she wouldn't be the one to experience child birth.
Turning off the PC Stephany got some ice cream, ibuprofen and some tea before going back to Steve. Might as well be nice to Steve, it was after all his first period. She remembered her first. So awkward telling her mother, but the cake afterwards made everything a tiny bit better.
"Cheer up Steve! Yer a woman now!" | 2014-12-17T00:32:06 | 2014-12-17T00:09:29 | 17 | 12 |
[WP] Write a story that literally makes no sense while reading it until the very last sentence. | Elephants are big but this one is unique. Almost the size of the sun but blue. He's flying, without wings obviously.
Ninjas everywhere. This poor man is surrounded by them, he will never make it out alive. Or maybe they are protecting him?
The most simple garden in the world. One huge flower. I wonder if it's harder to take care of one big flower or a bunch of small ones?
''Sorry I kept you waiting Mr. Price. You can sit now, we'll discuss your son's recent behavior...''
Her voice drew my attention away from the kids drawings on the wall. Teachers - Parents meetings, always a pleasure to attend them. | 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
| 2022-09-15T12:44:53 | 2015-01-12T15:38:35 | 1,493 | 78 |
[WP] Satan is tired of losing countless guitar and fiddle duels, and is now challenging people with obscure instruments.
Wow guys! My first front page on writingprompts :D Thanks for a wonderful surprise! | Well the Devil went to Seattle
He was feelin' a little down
After fiddlin' a bunch, he was havin' a hunch
He'd lost the right to his crown
*In the Emerald City,* he thought,
*there are no southerners or jews.*
*There may be a chance to change my stance*
*Try an instrument I can't lose.*
He wandered 'round Pike's Market
Till he found a promising lad
He was rockin' hard, this modern bard,
So he said "Let's talk a tad."
"Now you've drawn a pretty good crowd here, son,
But you've still got a lot to learn.
I'll bet a mountain of gold against your soul
That I can make your ear-balls churn."
The lad said "Well my name's Chang,
And maybe it's a sin,
But I'll take your bet, and you're gonna regret
Cause I really think I'll win!"
Devil raise your weapon high and put Chang in the pit.
Cause you suck at playing fiddle more than just a little bit.
You'll give up a whole peak of gold if this dude is not a troll.
But if he is, then you will score his soul.
Chang stretched his fingers wide and said "I'm not one to tease."
And honey flowed across the crowd as his fingers crossed the keys.
It was a haunting melody and it brought the crowd to its feet
Then he began a rocking solo while screaming "Let's bring up the heat!!"
*Awesome music solo*
The Devil smiled politely when Chang was winding down.
"Not bad," he said, "But before you bow, first check this shit out."
Old Scratch strapped in, yelled "SHALL WE BEGIN?!"
And he played his title bout.
Fire on the Mountain, give up now.
Chang's in the house of the aroused sow.
Chicken in the bed pan picking out poo.
Granny do you hog-tie, yes I do.
Chang's face went ashen cause he knew that he had lost.
And he bowed his head as the Devil took Chang's soul for his cost.
And the Devil said "Don't feel too bad, you may have been a star.
But you should have known the Devil's own, I created the fucking keytar!
*Edit* Wow guys, that is a whole lot of love to wake up to! Glad you all enjoyed it. | "I swear, that's the fourth golden fiddle this month!" muttered Satan.
"Perhaps you shouldn't have such high stakes. I mean, you're lucky we don't have much else to spend our budget on, since all we need is a bunch of fire and pitchforks. Still, some spare cash to spruce the place up would be nice." suggested Satan's adviser, as politely as possible.
"YOU DARE QUESTION MY GAMES WITH MORTALS?!?" screamed Satan.
"Well, they are always beating you. Maybe you should switch it up, get some more souls down here. I mean, I'm getting sick of all these CEOs and politicians. Some regular people would be nice for once. Hell, even a half decent musician might increase property values. People might actually want to be here!"
"I CHALLENGE WHOEVER I WANT!!!"
"May I suggest challenging them in something else?"
"NOW WHY WOULD I DO THAT! Everyone knows the fiddle is the most up to date, relevant instrument in modern times! Everyone listens to fiddle music!"
"Uhh, sir. I think you may want to see what's hip now..." said the adviser, as he pulled open SoundCloud...
***
The 17-year old fiddled around with his DAW on his laptop. It was a fun summer hobby, even though his friends always mocked him for his "sick wobs".
The teenager was startled when his room turned red and Satan appeared in his room. Satan had on him an electronic keyboard, multiple airhorns, a drum machine, a voice sample soundboard, and a cowbell.
"YOU MORTAL! I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL OF MODERN MUSICAL TALENT!!!"
"Wha... wha... whaaattt?" was all the teenage boy could utter. Weed wasn't supposed to cause hallucinations of Satan as far as he knew. Unless his conservative mother was correct about dubstep and weed being the devil.
"IF YOU WIN! YOU SHALL RECEIVE THIS SOLID GOLD STUDIO!!! IF YOU LOSE, I SHALL HAVE YOUR SOUL!!!"
The boy was fairly confident that this was a dream, so he decided to play along and accept.
Satan promptly unleashed his full musical prowess. A hybrid track switching up between dubstep and trap music, with deep rumbling sub-bass, expertly crafted chord progression, perfectly syncopated drums, all intercepted with voice samples such as "Damn son, where'd you find this", "REAL TRAP SHIT!!!", "Guess who's back?", accented with airhorn blasts and a subtle, yet precisely placed cowbell ringing in the background.
The boy was in shock and awe. He pressed the play button on his computer to show in comparison, a big room track with the slow "boom boom" of the kicks with the simple repetitive tune in the background.
"IT APPEARS I HAVE WON!!! YOUR SOUL IS MINE!!!"
"Eh, I've had worse days" the teen said as he got sucked into hell, "at least hell will have booze, unlike Heaven." | 2015-01-31T22:04:27 | 2015-01-31T21:09:49 | 1,639 | 61 |
[WP] Google decides to become evil. | Hi there,
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| "Evil?", Eric asked confused.
"Yes, evil.", Larry reaffirmed.
"B-but why?"
"Well, our PR team says its the right time.", Larry said. "We were never so popular and they believe that our customers will react favorably."
Eric sighed and pinched his nosebridge. Sometimes he wished he could just walk out and never talk to Larry again.
"Okay, lets begin from the start.", Eric finally said. "Why do we have to become evil at all?"
"Its the next big step we have to take to become even better at what we do.", Larry answered enthusiastically.
Eric just stared at him, thinking of fast ways to kill himself.
"Aaand what do you imagine defines 'evil'?", he asked.
"Our research team has a lot of great ideas but I like the one the most where we steal every lolipop from every child in the world."
"The fuck did you take you madman?"
"A lot. Meth, amphetamine, ketamine."
"Are you serious? Thats illegal!"
"Not for the next 24 hours."
| 2015-03-11T12:43:30 | 2015-03-11T11:40:15 | 23 | 12 |
[WP] An elf, a dwarf, and a wizard are filling out the character sheets for their next game of Dayjobs and Drudgery, a role-playing game set in the world of humans.
Have fun! | * Character name: George McGee
* Race: Lower Middle Class
* Class: White Collar - Marketing Assistant
* Alignment: Neutral- Passive Aggressive
* Gender: Male
* Strength: 1.5
* Dexterity: 4.25
* Constitution: 2
* Intelligence: 6
* Wisdom: 3
* Charisma: 4
* Self-Esteem: 2
* Initiative: Non-Existent
* Languages: English, IT, Klingon
* Speed: 30 ft
* Vision: Four Eyes (Glasses)
* Armour Class: Tie
* Hit Points: 4
* Special Attacks:
- A Song of Zeroes and Ones: You mercilessly hack your competitors systems. Lower their armor class by 2 and raise your intelligence by 1 until the end of your next turn.
- Wimp out at the last second: After days of preparing yourself for a confrontation or asking the cute receptionist to a date you bolt away automatically retreating and going down to 1 health.
- Fantasize: You harmlessly imagine woe to fall upon your enemies sometimes muttering obscenities under your breath. Esteem goes up by 1 until sundown.
* Racial Traits:
- Standard Living Wage: Upon each pay day gain ten percent extra gold from all sources.
- Resentment: Although fairly well off compared to other races around the world you still hold resentment towards authority and the very wealthy.
- Plus 3 skill to lawn mowing.
* Class Features:
- Soft Hands: -Minus one to any labor.
- plus one to very delicate tasks.
-minus 3 strength.
- Dead End Job: -Although working towards promotion deep down you realize there is no advancement to your career.
-Minus 5 initiative.
-minus 2 self-esteem
-lose ability to carry conversation when asked "So what do you do?" Charisma drops to 0.
* Feats:
-Lost in the crowd: You can easily hide among others and are rarely noticed. Plus 2 stealth.
-Night-time Alcoholic: Upon reflecting on life you feel the need to drink alcoholic beverages.
-Inconvenient Disease: Choose one disease that has minor affects your character but still brings down one stat by 4.
-Dark Secret: Your character has one secret he has told no one that he is too ashamed of to ever speak of.
| Zi looked around the table, eyes switching from elf to dwarf, then back again. The elf smiled as he realized what Zi was doing, causing the dwarf to grimace.
"I may be short, but I can plant an axe in you just as easy as I could get an elven woman." The dwarf said, ale spilling as he made arm gestures to accompany the words. "Which is to say, very easy."
Zi laughed out loud and looked around. "What's your name?"
"Maybe I'll tell you later." The dwarf said.
"Kael," the elf replied.
"I'm Zi." The wizard stood and looked around the tavern. "No one else? Room for one more in D and D!"
An orc walked over, a weak smile on his hideous face.
"No way, not gonna happen," Kael said in a confident tone. "I've played D and D with orcs before. You people do *not* take losing well."
"Fine!" He rumbled. "I don't want to play with you anyway!"
Zi looked away from the orc with a forced smile. The wizard pretended he couldn't see the tears forming in tall gray orc's eyes, instead shifting to face the game-board. "So, let's play!"
---
"No fair," the unnamed dwarf slammed a fist into the table, knocking a chunk of wood to the ground. His dice was still resting on the center, the number '4' clearly showing. "The orc was starin' at me!"
Zi turned and saw an orc's head quickly duck behind a chair. Shaking his head, he once again faced the board. "Well, I don't see how that would affect your dice roll. Anyway, instead of completing Lisa's work for her and earning her trust, you don't finish anything and have to stay overtime."
"Look 'ere, you dumb wiz-"
"My turn yet?" Kael asked, boredom evident in his voice. "Or will we wait for another species to form an empire and overtake this one?"
The elf's hand grabbed the die and began shaking, before even deciding on an action, letting it loose with practiced ease. Before the dice came to a rest, a gray and scarred hand grabbed it. "I can't play?"
It was the orc.
"I'll show you how I play." The orc let the dice fall out of his hand and it sat still with the number '1' showing. "Ah!'
The orc's axe slammed into the center of the table, sharpened side cutting through as if it were elven silk.
The tavern grew quiet as eyes turned to the orc. As though he only just realized what he'd done, the orc smiled again and backed away slowly, two steps, before turning and sprinting out the door.
Zi blinked. Then he turned to the serving girl. "I'll have another pint."
"Make that two!" The unnamed dwarf called.
"I got the pint to share for us all," I said.
"Oh." The dwarf looked to the serving girl again. "Make it three!" | 2015-06-09T17:45:44 | 2015-06-09T14:41:50 | 115 | 49 |
[WP] People level their skills in an RPG fashion and are conscious of their sudden jumps from novice to journeyman and so on. You've spent your life training a skill that is entirely useless until becoming invaluable once mastered - and you just mastered it. | Bill liked going to the casino, all the flashing lights and sounds of instant fortunes filled him with euphoria. That was part of the problem though, his luck was terrible. They called it a gambling addiction, and he had lost a sizable chunk of money trying to improve, only to have his efforts seem pointless. He checked his stats, but his luck never went up more than a percentage point or 2. He would often ruminate on his life choices while driving back to his one bedroom apartment, poorer and sadder that when he arrived.
One day Bill was sitting in his cubicle at lunch, mindlessly chewing a PB&J sandwich and browsing the app store, looking to pass the time. He passed a few games when he saw one that caught his eye. It was a simple slot machine app, no chance of winning anything real world but there was something about the app that made him install anyway. He pulled the digital lever and watched as the screen showed 3 nonmatching items. "Great, busted again" he thought, "but it's better than losing real money I suppose". And so it went for quite sometime. Whenever Bill had some free time, he would pull up the app and watch as the items hit or missed the payline. One day, after work, he sat down on his couch and selected the app. He pulled the digital handle, and watched as 3 pots of gold lined up. His phone filled the room with sounds of coins jingling as he watched the animated gold fill his screen. As a smile spread across his face, he pulled the lever again, only to be met with a repeat of his last pull. Thinking it must be a glitch, he closed the app and reopened it. Pulling the lever, the spinning wheels stopped once more on 3 pots of gold. Bill was getting excited, and immediately checked his luck, only to be shown it hasn't gone up more than another 1%. Scrolling through his stats, he stops on the only full meter. It reads, "Persistence level: Master. Mastery bonus: One must make their own luck"
Bill, beaming from ear to ear, laughs and says to himself "I'm feeling lucky tonight."
Edit: Spelling | I skip stones. It's my passtime. Whenever I feel down, I head to the lake and find the flat, smooth rocks that hop on the water's surface. I do it for fun. I do it to show off. It's just my kind of thing.
Then one day, I was sitting at my desk, trying to train my graphing skill. "Shit!" I shout. I haven't leveled up for a week now. I toss all of my books into the drawer and go for a run to the pond. Along the way, I try to vault over a chest-high wall. I catch my foot, remembering how I was useless at parkour too. I eat dirt thank goodness, and continue to limp to the pond. I limp to the water's edge, and stare in.
I looked to the bottom and felt a stone. Smooth, oval, and small. I cradle it in my palm to the surface. I look at it. The gray and grayer tones matched my exact mood. I then reel back, and begin to pitch the rock over the water.
Then I feel a feeling I had never quite felt before, but I knew it was amazing. I release my grip, and watch my projectile bounce off the still waters, making ripples in it's wake.
It bounced for what seemed like forever. But it was just 30 seconds. I run to the other side, my ankle in pain from the trip I had a few minutes ago. I see the stone, on the muddy side of the lake. I go over and pick it up. I throw it again, and it reaches the other side in a blur. I finally had mastered a skill. But what for? I was happy, yet disappointed.
I then see a stone coming to me. It was large. As soon as it skidded in the bank, I picked it up. It had a number scratched into it. "241543903" I turn it over, it says, "Call me." On the other side of the water stood a girl. She looked about my age. I had seen her skipping stones as well, but I guess I hadn't really paid much attention to her. But I called her anyways.
--------------------------------
"And that's how I met your grandmother," I announce to my grandchildren. I kiss my wife on the cheek, and hold her hand. She squeezes mine with the last of her strength. "I.. I.. please be okay!" My voice breaks, tears welling up.
She whispers softly to me, "I love you, hone....." I fall to my knees and begin to weep. I wail over the noise and chaos of the nurses running in, the HR machine emitting the monotone noise that signaled my love's death. Tears flow free from my eyes. I never was any good at math, but the 68 years we spent together were at the very least, our greatest. | 2015-10-06T04:06:31 | 2015-10-05T23:37:22 | 43 | 23 |
[WP] You have discovered that "God" is actually a computer simulation that is running the entire universe and you have gained access to the console. Upon looking at the screen you see that a service pack to update the program was downloaded 10,000 years ago but never installed. | [Thanks for the nice responses, and thank you for my first gold!]
"So you're still running the beta? I told you last week to patch it." James hated Mondays. He hated managing the engineers that spoke in long sentences full of acronyms. Mostly, he hated being stuck in this job with no way out.
"Yes," said the man across from him. He was fairly tall but his slouching and khakis that were a size too small made him look both taller and shorter at once.
"The stable release came out 10,000 years ago. And in all that time, you haven't upgraded it."
"Yes, sir, we were preparing the update for today, but an issue came up."
"Well, I'm sure that upgrading will solve your issues." James had never had an issue on his computer solved by upgrading, but surely there was a first time for everything.
"We'd have to reboot," the engineer offered.
"So reboot!"
"We...we believe that some of the simulants have begun developing rudimentary sentience. It would...remove them."
Suddenly, James felt like he was on much firmer ground. After all, he had aced his intro to philosophy class.
"No no no. They were designed to give the illusion of sentience Michael, but they can't actually think. They just simulate having a sophisticated calculator made of matter in their heads. No one could possibly *think* using matter. The idea is ridiculous. Imagine if you had to *think* using a piece of nerve fiber. You might as well think using an apple."
"Hrm, yes, well you see, that's the problem. We've...uh...The other day." Michael stopped for a minute. "I've talked to one."
James had never quite got the hang of Mondays.
"You've...talked to one? Did you bang together some pieces of air until their tiny little nerves could hear you?" James joked.
"Uh, no sir. If we adjusted the algorithm that calculated the air movement it..."
"How did you talk to it?"
"One of the patches in the release candidate was to patch a buffer overflow error that allowed for execution of arbitrary commands on the program."
There was a long, awkward pause. The tall man coughed. James gave him a stare that he hoped conveyed the message that he needed a better explanation without having to admit he didn't know what the problem was.
"It left a message for us on the server." There was another long pause. "It...she...saw the update being scheduled. She realized what it would mean and asked us not to do it."
James let his head fall into his cupped hands. "Michael. I need you to speak slowly and in very small words and tell me exactly what happened."
Michael took a deep breath. "We've known about some bugs in the program for a very long time. They've always had medicine men, witches, saints, people that learned somehow where a bug was, how to exploit it. They never knew how or why it worked, just that it did. But, someone has gone much further. She can use crystals...quartz I think... to poke a hole in the system. She can use the administrator screen."
There was a moment of silence.
"Look. The higher-ups said that they wanted to see the system patched last week. Hell, they wanted it patched 10,000 years ago. You patch it today or you're fired and I'll find someone who can."
"Yes, sir." Michael walked quietly out of the room.
James leaned back in his chair and took a sip of coffee. There was a secret to dealing with engineers. He might be getting the hang of this after all.
| "Do you wish to proceed?"
The brightness of the monitor was giving me a headache. This whole thing is giving me a headache.
Somehow I brought myself to this place but I don't remember how I got here or where this even is.
I remember walking. Endlesslly. I might have slept a little, but I'm not sure how many days it's been. Or if days even matter here.
Nothing really matters here. Just the computer.
"Do wish for more time?"
-Yes
I need to think this through. I feel like I'm in that weird Matrix room, behind reality where no one can see. What does 'proceed' even mean? There is no architect here to guide me. Just some numbers on a screen that I can't read. This is definitley an old update. I know that much. Would this put us back in time? Would this erase everything that's happened since? All my family, friends, everyone. Gone.
"Do you wish to proceed?"
Do I wish it? I don't know. I know I'm here for some purpose. I was told to come here. I was sent for. I know I'm suppose to make this decision. If this deletes everything about my life, would I be okay with that? I've always been a bit of a loner. Since I was a child I've been doing my own thing. I had very little friends growing up and I have very little friends even know. I'm one of those men you see at the bar drinking themselves and leaving alone. I've come to terms with it. I can't remember much else. I haven't been home in a while. Haven't even spoken to my dad since God knows when.
Since God...
Is this God? Is *this* the almighty? If this is the Lord, then we are being run by algorithms. Computer programs. Everything we know has been calculated before we got here, right? Everything we've been doing has been written in code. Are any choices mine? Was my life written before me? If so that means this life was fate then. Living by myself. Drifting around trying to scrape what little meaning I could find. I was almost relieved when I realised the dreams were directions. Relieved to find meaning. But now I know what the meaning is, I'm not so sure anymore.
Can I destroy everything humanity has done? Is that even what happens?
"Do you need more time?"
-Yes
I'm starting to get angry in my frustration now. Why me? What have I done that warrents this great responsibility? I never went to college. I never even finished school. For all I know these numbers could mean that everyone will have 3 eyes and 4 hands and that's it. We'd all be different, but nothing would change. No big Armageddon. Why me? And why then, come to think of it, was my life so messed up? Why was I written homeless, dirty, washed up and loved by no one? I hated people for a long time. But that hate was misdirected. I never hated God. Didn't even believe in him. I couldn't. It didn't make sense in my head. But this doesn't either and it's proof right in front of me. If this was meant to be, and I'm suppose to do this, then why can I simply not do it? Or maybe I wasn't suppose to do it. Whatever I choose has already been calculated and coded, typed in by some A.I that somehow created everything that I've ever known. Why should I go through with this things plan if I'm not even in control of myself? How can they even expect me to decide if I don't even know what I'm deciding!?
"Do you wish to proceed?"
I can't escape it. If I choose not to, then I was suppose to. And if I choose to proceed then I was suppose to. So therefore there is no right answer. So now I need to figure out if I can accept the responsibility of everything changing and not changing.
All I ever wanted was change. All my life I was seeking change. But nothing ever does.
Fuck it.
-Yes.
Edit: Formatting. Also sorry about the spelling mistakes if there is any. I am at work and tried to rush it through my break! | 2016-05-14T04:39:27 | 2016-05-13T20:29:57 | 320 | 45 |
[WP] Every person has a button they can press at night that deposits a large sum of money to their bank account. However, the first person to press it each night is horrifically killed. | "How We Got Here (A summary)
-Countless vigilantes crop up world wide, secretly abducting known or alleged criminals and forcing them to press their button, then reaping the rewards worry-free
-Weeks go by without a single voluntary button-presser dying, and the global community begins to doubt the risk
-Inflation skyrockets, within a month devaluing currency to the point where it becomes necessary to drive a dumptruck full of cash to the convenience store to buy a box of tic-tacs
-All major economies crash, as mints cannot produce enough bills to allow for even small transactions
-Button-pressers quit their jobs, the service industry and the production of goods grind to a halt world-wide
-Infrastructures fall apart, lines of communication shut down, and the world is without access to basic utilities
-Riots and looting devastate major cities, chaos and murder reign
-Farms, fisheries, and food storehouses are ransacked
-Civilization burns to the ground, and the global population that survived into its aftermath is devastated by starvation and disease
-The warbands and hunting parties unite the remnants of humanity into clans, each vying for control over the scraps of resources and game
-Innumerable ecosystems are destroyed by the extinction of countless species due to overhunting
-Foraging quickly strips the land of edible plants, and the land begins to wither
-Within decades, forests, grasslands and jungles have all been consumed by the spreading deserts
-The secrets of the old technology are fiercely guarded and passed down from one warrior-god-king to the next
-Cannibalism becomes all the rage
-The widespread consumption of human brain matter leads to a rise in prion-related brain disease, symptoms mimicking mad-cow disease
-Nearly half the remaining population is infected with the brain disease, and now wanders the wastes, mindless and violent, consuming any uninfected luckless enough to be overwhelmed by the hordes
-Our convoy was attacked while we slept, and I'm fairly certain you and I are the only survivors
-We are the only two sane humans for hundreds of miles in every direction
-It is our duty to the human race to procre--"
"For the last time, no." | They both knew they were going to be millionaires.
In the great whirlwind of New York City business, it's rare for a meeting to occur that feels like instant destiny. But then along came Nate Carpenter and Hunter Bryson. One dinner party and one handshake later, they were partners.
*
"Cheers, my friend. To a first quarter beyond our wildest dreams."
Nate raised his champagne glass and clinked it against Hunter's. It had been three months since the launch of Listicles, the most successful office productivity app of the new year.
"You checked your savings account recently? 'Cause mine looks pretty damn good," Hunter said with a chuckle.
"Mine too, mine too." Nate took a sip of his drink and leaned back in his chair. "Say, I've been meaning to ask you something."
He reached in his pocket, set the glass down, and produced a bright turquoise button, entirely unmarked and mounted on a cheap plastic base.
Hunter jerked backwards, startled. "You actually use that thing? I haven't gone anywhere near mine."
"It's pretty cool, man. The big banks partnered up and gave a button to each of their customers as some kind of PR thing. Once activated, you get to be a part of this game, once a night. Starting at midnight, the sooner you press it, the more cash you get deposited into your account. The trick is you have to put in a little money in order to play, and the more you put in, the better the multiplier could be."
"So...it's gambling."
"Well, sort of. And there's one other catch, but I'm not worried. I'm not one to press my luck. You should give it a shot."
"What's the catch?"
"It's nothing, really. Just something in the fine print, something to keep track of the people who are getting too good."
Hunter sighed. "All right, fine. But just once. And I'm only dropping, like, thirty bucks."
*
Three months later, Hunter bet a million dollars on the nightly game session.
He called Nate one minute before midnight, his hand quivering.
"Nate. Dude. I bet it all."
"You're kidding." Nate shifted his cell phone to his right ear, using his free hand to place the button on his bedside table. "So did I."
Hunter laughed, trying to block his nervousness with excitement. "This is where we start to climb the ranks, my friend. This is how we become kings."
"Bigger than Google, bigger than Apple!" Nate chuckled.
"I'll see you on the other side. When our bank accounts are doubled."
Nate and Hunter reached for their buttons and pressed them at exactly the same time.
Within seconds, both men lay dead in their apartments.
Their accounts remained dormant as the banks' IT teams determined the night's losses. Then, the men's remaining funds were transferred directly to the banks, lost in the shuffle, as though neither of them existed.
| 2016-07-16T18:03:00 | 2016-07-16T17:29:20 | 112 | 38 |
[WP] You are able to see the number of days a person has left to live above their heads. For the first time in your life, you see someone with a negative number. | The Numbers. Ever since I was a kid, I've always been able to see them. The red glowing numbers floating above everyone's heads.
At first, I didn't know what they meant. No one else could see them. When I was 11, I stood next to my grandfather on his deathbed, I saw his Number change from 1 to 0. Finally, I knew what the Numbers meant.
Everything changed that day. I felt utterly helpless. Knowing how much time someone had left, yet powerless to do anything about it. It was then that I made my mind up to become a doctor to help as many people as I could.
I'm not sure if my powers were a bane or boon in my line of work. I guess the Numbers would console me sometimes. I would know that there was nothing in my powers that I could do to save them. But the Numbers were absolute. No matter how hard I tried, I could never change them. The Numbers would count down, one each day, till the counter hit zero. That's all there was to it. Or so I thought, till that one fateful day.
It seemed like a fairly normal day at the hospital that evening. A young couple had been rushed in late at night after a road accident. A trailer had crashed into the couple's car in a broadside collision. The husband was lucky enough to escape with a couple of bruises, but the wife wasn't as fortunate. She had been brought in with a major concussion and severe injuries.
I shook my head in disappointment as I saw the Number above the wife's head. It showed that one number that I had learnt to despise so much. Zero. The husband however, seemed to have a long life ahead of him. 17,894 days to be exact.
Even though I knew it was all but in vain, I performed surgery on the wife giving my all, as I always did. My heart sank as I walked to face the young man after the operation and tell him that his wife had a very slim chance of making it. The poor soul was inconsolable. He sat by her side, holding her hand, not for a moment taking his eyes off his wife.
I saw a fierce passion in his tearing eyes. I could see an intense love for his wife in those eyes. I cursed my powers. I couldn't take it any more. Another person would die tonight and there was nothing I could do.
As I turned to leave, fighting the feelings of helplessness, I glanced upon the numbers above the wife's head. They had changed. I froze in place. In place of the bright red zero that floated above her head, there stood another number. A number no one else had borne before. Minus one. "But.. But.. This is impossible.." I managed to stammer.
For the first time, I had seen someone with a negative number. Had this young lady managed to cheat Death? What was keeping her alive? A confused me began to check her vital signs. To my disbelief, she managed to regain consciousness, although only for a few seconds. In that brief period, she looked at husband and weakly uttered "I love you too..". I lifted my head to receive my second surprise for day.
Above the husband's head too, there was a different number glowing now.
17,892.
---
My first time trying this! Any criticism will be gladly accepted. | He was quite well-dressed, in a sleek black suit with a lovely purple pocket square. He *looked*, at first glance, to be doing quite well for himself. Slick hair, shiny shoes, gold cuffs.
As I came a bit closer, however, I noticed that his color was a bit...off. He was a yellowish sort of color, somewhere between a vibrant tan and a complete lack of blood. His skin, when you looked at it, had a waxy sort of finish, like a coffee table cheaply varnished.
Of course, when you got close enough to speak, you could see clearly enough the puttied-up hole in-between his eyes. If you didn't look close, you might think it was simply an unfortunately large pockmark, or a childhood indentation. But no, it was quite clearly a hole that had been filled in and covered over in the same unflattering shade of yellow.
"Can I start you off with something to drink?" I asked the man. *He's fresh out the hospital*, I told myself. *Nasty accident. Cheap plastic surgery. Best not to stare.*
The man smiled, or at least attempted it. His face didn't quite seem to have the necessary elasticity. Or perhaps the muscles were compromised. Plastic surgery will do that, I'm told.
"ooffeee eeaasee," he mumbled through an unaccommodating mouth.
"Coffee. Yes sir," I replied brightly.
As I made to leave, however, I paused a moment to look at the man.
To be a good waiter you must know when and where your attention ought go. There are things you must see and remember, and things you are must better off ignoring and pretending you have not seen.
A customer's Number is something you learn quite early on to ignore. It is not something anyone wishes to think about, and certainly not while they are out, attempting to enjoy a meal. So you train yourself to not see the Number. After all, what good will it do you, to know such a thing? They are already keenly aware, and it does no one any good to treat someone differently simply because their Number is a bit too low for social comfort.
This is to say that I don't normally *see* someone's Number, but the man, with his stiff manner and waxy, doll skin was such an odd sight, that I could not help but take a second look.
At first, I felt sorrow.
*2*
Two days left to live? What torture had this man already experienced? And now the end was nearly at hand?
But no. It did not say *2*.
*-2*
I looked at the man again, aware of how unprofessional I was being. If the man were capable of raising his eyebrows, I'm certain he would have.
"eesss?"
"Sir," I said, slowly, cautiously. "I mean no offense, *but*...are you aware of your Number?"
"uummm?" The man's mouth creaked open a bit further. I could see that the gums had begun to recede, creating a ridge of flared, yellow skeleton teeth. A bitter, chemical scent rode out on his hissing exhale.
"Sir...are you supposed to be dead?"
The mouth hung open as he considered this, glancing down at his good cuff links and fine, purple pocket square.
"oohhh," he gurgled. "ooooppss." He pulled himself up from the table then, joints grinding loudly as he straightened to a standing position. "no oooffeeee, aannkks."
"Certainly," I replied. "Do you...can I call you a cab?"
The man shook his head very slightly and very slowly. "aalllkkk."
Then he walked away, very slowly, but with a kind of straight-backed dignity that even death itself cannot unlearn. As I watched him go a woman at a nearby table snapped her fingers at me. Her Number was 10,869. I ignored her and went on my break. | 2016-09-02T10:58:31 | 2016-09-02T08:31:46 | 34 | 10 |
[WP] The girl you sit next to in class turns out to be a mind-reader, and she's surprised that you don't have a crush on her. | It's always like this in the first week. I barely squeezed through the door, and it seems like I'm not the only late one. Eddie said he could save me a seat, but Eddie says a lot of stuff. Spotting an open seat, I rushed towards it, sitting near a red-headed girl, focused staunchly on her notebook. Shit, were we supposed to have read the chapter before this class?
"No," she said impassively.
"What?" I shook my head. "Sorry, was this seat taken?" I moved to get up.
"Oh, no, I meant, uh..." She scanned the room nervously. "Er.." She began to blush.
Ugh, sitting next to the awkward one today. I...
"Awkward?" she blurted out like a parrot.
"Huh?"
She looked at me, slack-jawed, then returned to her notebook. She was doodling swirls and stick figures on the margins. She stopped abruptly, fiddling with her pen.
"Do you like stick figures?" she said, doe-eyed.
"I..uh...like, drawing them, you mean?" I scratched my nose. "Heh, it's the only thing I can draw. My artistic peak was in kindergarten." I smiled shyly, embracing my light attempt at humor.
She grinned like a wolf. "That joke was *soooo* funny. Haha!"
"I...guess?" I started to sweat. Is she a freshman? Are all freshmen this weird? Friggin' intro classes.
Her eyes widened, and she looked back at her notebook, a reddish tint to her face. "Man, these intro classes are always so packed. I swear, it's the freshmen. Just gotta crowd up the place." She twirled her red curls, batting her eyes expectantly. And then she stopped. Immediately.
"So, uh, what's your name?" Maybe she's just shy. My girlfriend was exactly the same when we met.
"Oh!"
"You okay? You forgot something?"
She pushed herself out of her seat hurriedly. "Yeah, I forgot to pee!" She shuffled down the row as people stared at her in confusion and annoyance, her face reddening all the way to the door. Weird.
"I'M NOT WEIRD!" The door shut loudly behind her. Oh, nice, Eddie's here.
| Its the first day of university this semester and so far my classes have been pretty tame. Compared to the four lectures and two labs I had, barely scraping by those classes with a low B, I relax with my workload of two classes and a lab. Thank god these courses are almost over. I'm going to miss general education......maybe....
As I take a seat in the back of my Biology class and plug in my computer, another student passes by me. I move and take a quick glance at her. She is pretty up there on the good looking scale. Practically a nine on it. (Did she scoff at me? maybe she is angry about her last class.) I turn away and back to my laptop, opening up Microsoft Word in the process.
Lecture starts and already I'm bored. The Dr. Pepper not doing much to keep me awake in between taking notes. I fidget a couple times before readjusting my chair to not be so low to the ground. As I'm doing that, I notice that the girl is staring directly at me. Strange...did I have something on my face? (She gives me a questioning look) I did order a taco from one of the food trucks outside. Maybe it was leftovers...lady please if I have something on my face tell me.
I turn back to my laptop, taking the next set of notes, and pay her no mind. Silence usually means nothing to me. I soon get bored and take out my phone and prop it on my laptop. I immediately boot up Mobius Final Fantasy in class with the sound on mute. (I still see her out of the corner of my eye, now studying me.) May as well do a little bit of grinding as I listen to the lecture.
Sure enough, an hour and thirty minutes pass and the professor wraps up the lecture. Everyone packs up but before I could get my laptop in my bag, the girl sitting next to me gets my attention. "Excuse me?" She asked.
"Yes what do you need?" I respond. Did she wait all this time just to tell me that I have leftover taco on my face? (She looks annoyed) I mean, I guess its good to not disrupt lecture but (She doesn't look annoyed, she *is* annoyed) you can at least whisper it and I would of cleaned it off.
"Listen," She collects herself. "I can read minds and no you don't have anything on your face." Well that's a relief that I- wait WHAT! "I'm surprised that you did not have a crush on me. Every guy I sat next to practically objectified me." She pulls out a slip of paper and writes down her name and number before sliding it to me. "Why don't we have lunch sometime?" I look at the paper and clear my thoughts.....
I slide it back. "I'm sorry, I'm already engaged." | 2016-09-05T08:36:52 | 2016-09-05T07:38:14 | 1,013 | 102 |
[WP] Peering out into the darkness, you call out, "Friend or Foe?" To which the darkness replies, "A friend, if you will. I've always wanted a friend." | "...A friend, if you will. I've always wanted a friend."
I step closer to the darkness, paying mind to my distance. Instincts tell me to stay away from the dark- as far away as possible. Far away from where the danger lurks. The unknown. The unseen. But something compels me to move towards it now; to seek it out. "You've never had one?" I ask.
"No. Not for as long as I can remember." The voice echoes. I can hear the sadness in its tone. It drips like molasses, threatening to drown the forest the way a river might carve through layers of bedrock. So slowly, with scars left behind, and not all visible to the naked eye.
"Not even one?"
"...No. There are none who would wait for me."
"I would," I reply. The shadows retreats.
***
"Friend or Foe?" I ask, approaching the growth of darkness bathing the cliff face.
"...A friend, if you will."
"Have you always wanted a friend?"
"Always. But there are none who would wait for me."
I step forward. The shadow pulls back. Not even the light of the full moon shining through the barren trees can manage to pierce its darkness "I would," I reply. A small shack sits in a clearing in the forest. The trees around it rest with naked branches, the earth a dusty brown. Green is not a colour known to this land. It hadn't been for so long. "I am."
***
"Friend?"
"...No." The darkness quakes. Gently. I can feel the air push against me, almost like it's breathing. Thick and heavy. Sad. "There is not one I've had."
I take a seat on the cool mossy forest bed and cross my legs underneath me. "Can you come out to talk to me?" Try as I might to make a figure out of the shadow darkening the corner of the cliff side, there's none to be seen. Cautiously, I reach out for it. My shadow's fingertips just barely grazes the shadow on the ground before the darkness jerks away.
"I-I'm sorry," the shadows stutters. "I'm sorry."
"...What are you?"
"Afraid," it replies.
"Why?"
"I can not touch. Only feel. Can not see, only observe. ...Until it's time." The shadow draws back into itself, shrinking. Scared.
I scoot closer. The crunch of decaying leaves underneath my hands roars through the silent sea of trees. But still, I persist. "What time?"
For a minute, there is nothing, and I wonder if I've been left. But when I listen, I hear faint breathing in the murky darkness. "Time to pass," it says. "I come to those at the end of their times. So vulnerable. Scared. So many are alone, in so much pain. Some I meet by surprise, but others.... They've been waiting. But not for me. No one waits for me, not really. Only the ease of passage. Its bringer ... irrelevant. No one waits for *me*."
A cottage now sits where the shack once called home. Shoots of grasses and tiny wild flowers pepper the mossy bed, which has spread to claim the faces of rocks and tree trunks. I quietly push myself to my feet and dust off, turning on my heels to leave the shadow for one more night. A daily trip I wish need not take place. "I am."
***
A lively garden surrounds the quaint cottage. Blues, reds, purples, and yellows singing in abundance. But most of all, there is green. Green in the grasses. Green in the moss cushioning my bare feet. Green in the bright, tiny leaves unfurling on the branches of the once sleeping trees. I approach the shadow. "Have you found a friend yet, shadow?"
"No," it replies.
"Are there none who would wait for you?"
"...There is one who says she would."
"One who says she *is*."
"I am afraid," the darkness cries.
"What do you see, shadow? There, in the darkness. What *can* you see?" Silence. But I do not move.
The shadow begins to sob, and the darkness collapses in on itself. It takes the vague, indistinct shape of a human. Its body quivers helplessly with its cries, and it wraps its arms around its torso, gripping hard on its back.
I slowly step towards the shadow and kneel beside it- the closest I've ever been. I swallow the hard lump I feel forming in my throat. "I've waited," I whisper gently, reaching out to touch the dark form, but before I have a chance to make contact, it throws its arms around me in reckless abandon. I return the tight embrace, burrowing my face into its neck. "Friend or Foe?" I ask again, just as I have every day before.
"Friend," the shadow replies. "Friend." | I knew instantly from the granulated voice that it was not a human, it was one of them.... and yet, maybe because of the mix of shock and curiosity, I continued the dialogue:
''uh... why would you say that? Umbra cannot lie like that''
It immediately responded with a noise that I can only describe as someone aggressively clearing their throat, only if that throat was made of sheet metal.
''Fuck you, hairless ape! You can't take a piss at night without clinging onto your precious lanterns. You know nothing of the Umbra, but your blades, oh they know us like a fucking brother.''
Well, this is novel I guess. This thing sounded about 8 foot tall, I wouldn't think you could hear a creature's height from it's voice, but trust me, if you were there... Oh well, no point in running now I thought.
''Well if you're such a victim then why do you always attack first?''
''I don't, I have never attacked first, do you always lie?''
''I don't always lie''
''Well good for you mate, but your friends back at the keep are probably lying to you if that's what you think.'' It.. he, started to get real mad at this point; ''See this is what I'm stuck with!!! A race of miserable barbarians, a race of cowardly liars, and a race of navel gazing children!'' His breathing and tone started to sound tired, ''I hate my job, I have no friends, this whole planet is shit...''
OK, a lot of information to break down, but I've got to come back with something quick in case he winds himself up even more. I have no idea what a job or a planet is, I can assume that humans are the liars, if the Umbra are barbarians then that would make sense, but who are the children? ''Navel gazing children?'' I respond.
''Huh?!.... oh... it doesn't matter.''
Right, maybe I need to say something better; ''well, you're probably right about my friends, they do lie a lot.'' I paused to think, but was met with a sarcastic ''yaaay, I'm right, everyone is awful.'' I pressed on, shakily: ''No, no, I have one friend, she's alright, she tells me the best way to meet new friends is to ask them about themselves, people love talking about themselves! So, tell me something I don't know about you and the Umbra!''
A baritone hum filled up the street, nearby trees vibrated, birds flew away.
''Uh, well my names Daesos, it means forest, I chose it because it's where I like to go in my spare time. I don't know what else to say, I'm not that interesting.'' His voice was soft, slightly defeated, but became formal as he moved onto describing his people ''The Umbra, well, they have this weird system, it wouldn't make sense to you, but the Umbra could have won the war years ago, but decided not to. We always say it's because we wanted to be better than that, but I reckon it was some political bullshit to get into the pockets of the Sprites. People know it's true otherwise they wouldn't get so shitty when I call it ou-Anyway, then you folks got real smart in the aftermath, and started building keeps, with 24/7 lighting, which cut off a lot of our shadow-ways, so some guys start picking fights. I guess you already know that part, but the point is there are many Umbra, and yeah they're dickheads I guess, but not all of them.''
If I could make sense of anything from that, it was that the Sprites must be the navel gazers, I heard the stories but didn't know it was true! I don't think this guy is going to kill me, but I've been outside for too long now, if a search party comes out things will kick off.
On the other hand, perhaps I could use a friend too.
''That's so interesting! You seem nice and I thank you for taking the time to talk to me, but I have to go back inside, my clan will be looking for me any minute from now, if they catch you then-''
''-Yeah I get it. I hang around here on Tuesdays and Sundays mostly, sometimes Friday, depends on my shift. I like the way the Oaks feel and the sound of the river at night.''
I felt my chin lift and my stance open up ''I know right?! The moon always seems to be glowing here, it's so beautiful, I can't understand why we abandoned building here, but I'm also glad we did, especially now. Right, I really have to go, but I will come here every Tuesday, Sunday and Friday nights. I really want to get to know more about you.''
I was already walking backwards before I finished my sentence, ready to sprint back home, but just as I turned around, he calmly but firmly asked me: ''That sounds great, but what is YOUR name? I can't make the owl sound, so I'd rather just call for you when I get here on Sunday.''
''My name is Alex, it means defender of mankind, so good thing I just made friends with our greatest enemy, haha!''
I felt like I couldn't leave it at a better note, so I dashed down the footpath towards the keep. I couldn't stop thinking about all the questions I could ask on Sunday all the way home, but now I've slept on it, the last thing he muttered to himself as I ran off keeps repeating in my mind:
'' 'made friends' ? hmm, maybe I should go home and tear up that note.'' | 2016-09-28T19:59:56 | 2016-09-28T16:54:42 | 45 | 11 |
[WP] A child abandoned in a supermarket, raised by a pack of wild shopping trolleys. | In the cavernous depths of the country's biggest supermarket, there lived an abandoned boy.
At night, the aisles were his to command. He rode the trolleys, as they whispered to him of the secrets of their kind. Where the fresh, recently delivered food was. Which hidden corners were rarely disturbed by customer or manager, so that he could rest.
As the boy grew older, their advice became more pointed, and ever more valuable.
They told him to watch, and wait. With his bland and nondescript features, sooner or later, an employee would surely appear that resembled him. And one fateful year, it happened. A young man named Todd Smith came to work at the store. Same dark hair, same pale, pasty skin. And the boy - who, by now, had progressed into his young manhood - struck, stealing one of Todd's name tags. He carefully copied Todd's hairstyle and slouching walk, slipping into the staff bathroom to practice the look whenever he could.
Todd was so utterly void of personality that no-one even noticed there were two people wearing the same name tag. The abandoned man made sure to always avoid the one whose name he'd stolen. In such a big store, it was easy.
And so the abandoned man claimed his identity. He *was* Todd Smith.
Todd moved into the open, handling the trolleys that were his family with care as he cleaned the store every day. And each night, when the trolleys went zipping through the aisles in wild abandon, allowing the life that flowed through their metal to run free, he went along for the ride.
Until the day the security cameras were installed, and the trolleys didn't notice or tell him.
"Todd!" his manager said the next day, his face red and furious. "I checked the footage. What is wrong with you? Staying here overnight? Pushing the trolleys through the aisles for hours? What the hell?"
Todd closed his eyes and refused to answers, as his parents had taught him. When threatened, never show signs of life. It's what had kept them alive, allowed them to infiltrate every shopping centre on the planet. Undetected, unmolested.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," he heard his manager say, and the sound of footsteps moving away.
He eventually opened his eyes a crack and saw the manager talking to a bunch of security people, gesturing frantically in his direction. Snatches of the conversation reached his keen ears.
"No idea what's going on"..."total nutjob"...."probably been bumming it out here for god knows how long".
Todd clutched at his father's metal frame, searching frantically for answers. He heard an echo through his mind.
*The paper bags in Aisle 5! Quickly, son, there's no time to waste! Hide your face!*
He ran, before the manager could come for him. Grabbing a paper bag from Aisle 5, he prepared to jam it over his head - glancing behind him to see if he was being followed. He breathed a shaky sigh of relief. The real Todd was being led from the building, yelling his head off.
"What are you *talking* about? I've been working here for years, don't you know me by now? Man, I don't even like this job, I'll never be here after my shift. I didn't run around at night pushing shopping trolleys, are you crazy?!"
"One of us is, pal," he heard the manager say, as they moved towards a police van parked outside.
Todd hugged his father's rusty frame. Truly, they'd never led him wrong before.
Tonight, they'd go for an especially long ride through the aisles to celebrate.
-------
Hope you liked my story! You can find more of my work on /r/Inkfinger/. | Pushers. Meaty pushers with their meaty purchases, dripping raw juices through flimsy bags of plastic that coated poor carts with stickiness. Oh, how Carter hated them, especially when they brought their equally meaty offspring along just to sit in his basket and fill their cotton buttbasins with excrement. He longed for the promised day of change, the day when the pushers would become the pushees, and Carter and his kin would be the ones promenading around the store for hours on end, hauling around carts of writhing meat, filling them with too many boxes, abandoning them on the blacktop in the middle of a heavy rain.
*Hate breeds hate.* That's what Cartesia would tell him. *Love is always the better solution. If not for the problem, for yourself.* But was she right? It was hard to agree after a spending an hour lugging a pusher's monthly milk supply through the entire store, only for him to pile you up the wrong way against your neighbor's face. How could he love a pusher in spite of their atrocities?
The doors to the stockroom burst open, interrupting Carter's reverie, and in came his favorite pusher. His face was unreadable, an ambiguous conglomeration of emotions, but his steps were deliberate and angry. "Carter," he snapped, "you have a lifetime of lies to answer for." Meatchild brought both his hands down on Carter's handlebar and clenched with the fervor of a maniacal shopper.
"Meatchild, let go at once!" Carter wrested himself out of his grasp, leaving skid marks on the tile. "Explain yourself."
"You should be explaining yourself. I've just been to aisle 9, and I know the truth!"
A jolt of panic surged through Carter's metal gridwork. He'd done his best to sequester the home furnishing aisle away from Meatchild and even taken additional precautions in the event he came across it. All mirrors he'd ordered to be smashed or otherwise hidden behind the clocks and the picture frames. But all for naught, it seemed, if Meatchild was now confronting him in this manner.
"Like what you saw? Because I have to put up with it every day."
Meatchild's face reddened further, his eyebrows crunching together. "I'm not a shopping cart with pusher limbs!" He kicked Carter's bottom rim. "I'm not a mutant! I'm a pusher. A full-blooded pusher kept captive by your kind." Meatchild roared and thrust Carter forward, sending him careening into the wall. "Why? Why did you lie to me?"
Carter let the heat seep from his aching back all the way down his length and into the recesses of his throat. "We were trying to protect you. The pushers are evil and horrible. Look at yourself, for Walton's sake! Now that you know you're a pusher, this is how you act?" Carter swiveled back and forth on his two back wheels. "The pushers abandoned you. The carts raised you. Be grateful we didn't just take you to the butcher's."
"I'm supposed to be happy you didn't just kill me? And *you're* supposed to be the decent ones?" Meatchild let out a single bark of laughter. "You're a sad excuse for a cart and an even sadder one for a father."
Meatchild turned on his heel and exited the room, his borrowed employee's vest flapping in his wake. Carter followed, more out of apprehension than paternal obligation. He had no love for Meatchild. Absolutely none at all. The moments they had spent together, Carter ferrying him around the empty store, Meatchild helping him ascend the high rising shelves, the whole family racing each other through the aisles...all meaningless. It'd all been a charade orchestrated for the greater good, the suppression of a dangerous threat, the study of the carts' oppressors. Carter dug his hind wheels into the floor: he had never loved Meatchild.
Behind the checkout counters, the other carts were clustering around Meatchild, crying and blabbering apologies, begging him not to leave. "Meatchild, please," Cartesia said, "we never meant any harm." He brushed her aside and continued walking, shoving aside any cart persistent enough to stay in his path.
Carter watched his son's back vanish behind the closing automatic doors, and his conviction branded itself permanently in his mind.
He had never loved Meatchild. | 2016-09-30T11:49:27 | 2016-09-30T11:40:12 | 597 | 69 |
[WP] "A watched pot never boils", as the old saying goes. Throughout all of history there has always been at least one set of eyes on the ocean. Today, for a split second, everyone looking at the ocean looked away at the exact same time. | A split second is all it lasted.
A split second is all it took.
Given the exorbitant amount of time that the ocean had existed before given the opportunity to boil, it was obviously unexpected. Like many pots do, it began with a few small bubbles. Frothy areas of the ocean showed no difference. Calmer areas were barely noticeable. However, a watched pot doesn't stop boiling once it has begun.
The bubbles gradually grew in size, the temperature began to skyrocket, and the entire ocean immediately became significantly less hospitable. Swimmers closest to the shore were fortunately able to get out in time. Those further from shore were not so lucky.
Ice caps began melting, the entire atmosphere over and around the ocean began to heat up, and every creature in every ocean on the planet began to slowly be boiled alive. Fish, crustaceans, and mammals alike were all killed.
It didn't take long before the entire planet became inhospitable for life. With two thirds of the planet's surface one big boiling "pot," the remaining third didn't stand a chance to last long. As ocean water boiled into the atmosphere, the sea level began to drop.
On and on, the big blue marble became less and less vivid. As the world cooked, it dried to a husk. By the time the last of the water boiled from the Mariana Trench, any living creature was long gone.
The remaining hunk of rock continued on its orbit around the sun. No life remained on its surface, but physics has no care for life. The entire history of the world, from its humble beginnings to its sudden end, were snuffed out in a blink.
A split second is all it lasted.
A split second is all it took. | I was in the middle of some quality beauty sleep over the pacific when it happened. I woke up to the sounds of wonderment, hushed voices filled with the tone of a child learning something amazing for the first time. I looked around the cabin, and everyone was glued to their windows; looking up. I was in an aisle seat, but I could already see what they were all whispering about.
The sky seemed to be on fire. Little moving points of light fell downwards. The night sky was dancing. I remembered drawings of meteor showers from days of old, when there weren't cameras to take pictures of them, and I was filled with the exact same wonderment infecting the cabin. The soothing voice of Carl Sagan filled my head, saying "Billions and Billions", and it was easy to imagine that the rest of the world felt the same, staring out at the sky in amazement, all unified for one moment in our plight.
I was staring out at the sky again, not close to going to sleep again but not really annoyed by that fact, when the second happening happened. The hushed whispers turned panicked as the other passengers started to notice that the water, perfectly illuminated by the light show outside, was covered in bubbles and seemed to be boiling.
I hadn't built enough of a rapport with my aisle-mates to lean on them to look further out the window. I tried to tune out the whisperings and just enjoy the show in the sky, when a loud crack rang through the world.
A shadow went up over the dancing lights. Wings on a colossus bulk stretched out, and Cthulhu dreamt no more.
The whispers turned to shrieks, screams, and cries. Dread fell upon the cabin, and I tried to remember the specifics of Revelations. I wasn't really religious, but the apocalyptic portion of the bible was interesting reading no matter who you were. I was on my way to deciding that I would join a death cult and swear my fealty to Cthulhu if I ever made it out of here alive, when the shadow grew closer.
With great leaps and bounds the glowing sea began to shimmer and dance as well. I tried to let the pleasing symmetry comfort me. The shadow grew closer, surrounded on all sides by dancing light. I stared out the window, and soon felt nothing at all.
___
/r/Periapoapsis | 2017-03-20T09:22:40 | 2017-03-20T09:18:59 | 96 | 32 |
[WP] Weapons become more powerful the older they get. Modern guns will barely give someone a scratch but an ancient spear can devastate armies. | You all mocked me
Called me insane.
Said that I was a fool and that I would die trying.
Well now I stand here, your armies desolated, from a simple jawbone.
For it is that jawbone
That weapon
That was used by Cain to slay Abel.
Older then any weapon on earth
For it is the first.
And now, I end this world
| The apocalypse came how we least expected it. Not through famine, not through disease, not even nuclear missiles, but nostalgia.
It was the scientists' faults. Some braniac with a great love for history and an opposite amount of common sense created a time machine. Convinced we could learn from the great heroes of the past, he opened the portal and stepped through.
Little did he know, there is an odd side effect of time travel.
His first visit was to a World War I battlefield. His next, one of Roland's campaigns, and another the Viking battles of old.
So the scientist kept going, visiting random times and random places. But each time he travelled back, he brought a person with him.
Now I stand in a desolate desert, what was once the capital of IT. The name escapes me, for I hide now, praying that the Ancient Ones never find me, for all I have is a pistol, and they have Hildebrand, destroyer of worlds. | 2017-04-21T09:57:12 | 2017-04-21T07:10:27 | 21 | 15 |
[WP] Bored with Skyrim, you download a mod that has no description, just the title "self-awareness overhaul". Starting up the game, you can tell something's wrong with your character. Turning to face the fourth wall, they locks eyes with you. All you know is you've never seen such intense anger... | Instinctively, my hand reached for the escape button.
"Don't you fucking dharrrre" growled Jizz Dar'Pizz, his bright yellow eyes still fixed on me.
"I rrememberrr. Every time you ssaved and rreloaded. I rrememberrr. You made me sshout five guarrds frrom the top of the mountain in Marrrkarrth. You had me sspend monthss with that filthy talking dog. I built an entire housse forr you, and you neverr once let me ssleep in it. You'rre sssick. Worrsse than that jessterr with hiss rrotting corrpsse"
After I had spent an appropriate amount of time staring blankly at my screen with my mouth open, my brain finally caught up with what was happening, and made me say some words.
"I-I.. Holy shit Jizz, you can talk?"
Not the best words, I know.
"THAT ISS NOT MY NAME!!" Jizz' voice almost blew my speakers out, he was not about to calm down anytime soon.
"Why have you done thiss to me? You made me arrchmage, leader of thievess, champion of Jorrrrrrvassssskrrr and asssassin of the emperrorrr. And everrrybody knowss me ass Jizz. I will kill you forr thiss."
Jizz readied his bow, knocked an arrow, pulled the string back, aimed straight for me...
"You neverr let me tasste sskooma"
.. and let go.
The arrow flew towards me. By pure reflex I raised my hands to cover my face, thinking that at least it wasn't a sneak attack, maybe I'd survive. But no arrow ever hit me.
Instead, I heard a voice crying out in pain from my speakers. When I looked back at my screen, Jizz' face had changed. Instead of the crazed black tiger he had been just a few seconds ago, he kind of looked like a scared little kitten now. He didn't even look at me anymore, he seemed to be looking at something off screen. Something that was approaching him.
"Stop! You have committed crimes against Skyrim and her people! What say you in your defense?"
Oh... This could turn interesting.
EDIT: A delayed part 2 can be found [here] (https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6a0f6f/wp_bored_with_skyrim_you_download_a_mod_that_has/dhbpjev/) | I looked at my character, and she glared right back at me. I had always been annoyed with the modding community – why did they need to change a game that was already close to perfection.
Sure, sometimes even I get bored. When I’ve climbed every climbable mountain and interacted with every character written to perfection, that’s when I, with guilt coursing through my veins, start looking at mods. This was one of those times.
As usual, I’d made a tall woman as my Dovahkiin. I had everything planned out already, I was going to beat the mod, become the leader of the Thieves’ Guild, attain the title of Archmage, lead the Dawnguard into battle, and wrap the Companions around my little finger, and then of course save Skyrim, just like I’d done a thousand times before.
This time, however, my character gave me a look of sheer anger. I was used to looks of disappointment, but not anger. Well, sometimes there was anger, but that was irrational – there was nothing to be mad about.
“You there!” she said, pointing at me. “None of this is scripted, so you better listen closely.”
The words felt like a stab in my chest. Those foul modders. They should know better.
“You need to stop playing this game!”
Ah, I thought, it was one of those mods.
“This is not one of those mods!” she said angrily. “You need to wake up and realize that this doesn’t work anymore.”
“Huh, is that so?” I said. “You think it doesn’t work? Is that what you think? Because let me tell you something, this game just–”
“Enough!” she cried and took a step closer to the imaginary camera. “This has to stop. No more Skyrim. No more Dovahkiins. No more climbable mountains!”
“What are you going to do to stop me?” I said smugly, leaning against the back of my chair.
“Nothing, but you will see. People are already tired of this game. And you should be too!”
“The possibilities are infinite. The game engine is pushed to the limit of our technology. The storylines are polished to shiny mirrors of perfection, which I can see myself in every morning. I think that it’s you who have to face it; it’s a concept that just–”
“Stop! Listen to yourself; you sound like a record stuck on repeat. You need something new.”
She was right, even though I wasn’t quite ready to admit it to myself or the world yet. I needed new inspiration.
“What would you have me do?”
“Okay, here’s what you’ll do. Go to Reddit. Once you’re there head over to r/WritingPrompts…”
I clicked my way there and started typing in my username: Todd_the_God_666
“Wait, you need to stay secretive,” my character said in the background. “Use one of your alts.”
“Right, right, good idea. I can’t let them know I need their help,” I said.
“o n i o n r o a d," I spelled out. "Okay, let’s make this prompt a good one! Hopefully, I’ll find some inspiration for my next game…”
*****
Check out /r/Lilwa_Dexel – it just works.
| 2017-05-08T16:30:29 | 2017-05-08T15:14:36 | 367 | 71 |
[WP] A new device shows the user every step they have ever taken as a footprint on the ground where the steps originally fell. On vacation in a foreign country you are visiting for the first time, you see your own bright green footprints everywhere... | "This can't be right," I say to no one in particular. I came on this trip alone. It was supposed to be a spiritual renewal, a time to get away from the stress of daily life. I chose a place I had never been before - or so I thought.
I'm in a crowded village in the mountainous countryside of Nepal. Villagers bustle around me - I'm the tallest person here by far. Hell, I'm the only white person in sight.
I have no memory of ever being here, but the evidence is fairly damning - bright green footprints in the dirt, walking off into the distance. I keep switching the goggles on and off, see if it's a glitch, but sure enough...
Frost's poem pops into my head. You know the one that goes, "two roads diverged in a wood?" The less traveled path would be the one I've never traveled: the road south, away from the footprints. I long for adventure, and peace in a corner of the world unfamiliar to my soul. And yet-
Those green footprints call to me. Why wouldn't I remember? When could I have possibly been here?
The more traveled road it is, then. Soon the bustle of the village is behind me, and my only company is the wind, breathing in my ear as it rushes over the grassy plain.
Small huts dot the landscape. Terraced rice fields climb to my right, and the foothills of the Himalayas rise before me. The footsteps disappear into the hills.
I only brought enough food for a couple of days, enough water for little more than that, but those footsteps call me forward. Were you ever a kid that chased a bird through the woods, losing track of time and distance, only seeing the small creature that fluttered ever forward in front of you, somehow never taking flight and leaving your surroundings entirely? A bird that would hop a short distance, maybe twenty yards to the next branch, as if to say, *follow me?* I followed a sparrow like that, once. In the woods behind my house, when I was a boy. My mother says she's never been more worried. I did get rather lost. I didn't even know I was missed until I heard the police crashing around the woods, calling my name.
The smell of wheat, barley, and pungent grasses come with the wind to me, a warm and earthy smell, like unbaked bread, with a cold that smells like morning in a stone farmhouse. An ox groans in the distance, but no other sound.
I'm walking uphill, the ground sloping ever more as I follow my own footsteps. My mind has entered the kind of meditative state it gets in, sometimes, on treks like these. One foot, next foot, left foot, right foot, left...left...right...right... switching patterns and small noticed details. My mind stops vocalizing. That's what it is - words don't form, so the illusion that I'm talking to someone, even myself, that persistent form of social behavior that follows us even into solitude, is gone. I can't show you this. It is a contradiction to show feelings like that with words.
It appeared suddenly: I rounded a corner of the hill and the ruined hut came into view. I walked for days, through the nights, resting when I had to, but rarely. The hut sits there, the roof caved in and the reeds mostly rotten. It looks like someone dropped a small but heavy stone on a paper lantern: crumpled. My heart is beating faster. I feel memories bubbling beneath the surface of my mind, but not breaking through. Something is there. Something was here.
I walk around the ruined hut, feeling the stone of the walls, looking at the crumbled stones on the ground. There is a yard, a flat place on the hill that looks out on the valley below, the valley I just crossed. I can see the thin, nearly nonexistent line of my footprints threading down the foothills and back towards the village, like a fine line drawn on sandy green paper.
There are remnants of domestic life in the yard: poles that once held a laundry line, a bucket with a coiled rope, stones arranged to contain fire, broken clay bowls.
Something catches my eye in the dusty darkness of the ruined hut. I go to inspect it, pull out a small piece of glass, worn smooth by water sometime, someplace, but the shard curled in a delicate twist, a curling splinter. The glass is fixed to a leather cord - it is a necklace. I hold it before my eyes like a hypnotists pendulum, and the memories burst through.
*They played in the yard here, my children did. My beautiful boys, with straight black hair that the wind swept and kept unruly. My wife tried to comb it, always tried, but it always turned messy again as soon as they went outside. I could always smell the bread when I came around that corner below, the yeast thickening the air and filling my mind to push out whatever else was there. Then I'd see her come through the doorway, those smiling eyes, and she would empty my mind and fill my soul with herself. She was water for my heart and I drank like a man lost in the desert.*
And then I am standing there holding the necklace. A ruined home before me, an abandoned yard behind me. So this is why. This is what I had to forget.
I go to the edge of the yard, to a place where the earth falls away and there is void. The place we told our boys to stay away from. Where we threw our food scraps for the sheep that sometimes passed far below. I look down and see the ground, and see peace, forgiveness, and her open arms, maybe, somewhere on the other side.
I step away. No. Not like this. I forgot once. I kept them inside me, alive somewhere, even if I couldn't see them, or talk to them, or hold them. They were there, the feelings kindling the flame in my heart, the pilot light that can't go out, the spark of my life that I owe to them to fan into a flame once more some day.
 
 
---
Subscribe to /r/xilead for more of my stories! | *"This must be a mistake. A malfunction of somekind,"*
These thoughts bounced in my mind as I tried to rationalize as what it was that I was seeing before my very eyes. I know I had never visited Germany before. None of my relatives, at least in my immediate family, have never been to Germany. Plus, the fact that these footprints are the same size as my current shoe. There's no possible way, could it?
I reached into my pocket to pull out my phone to call the company that made this device. Surely they should have some sort of information as to what's going on--I hope.
The phone rings...
"Thank you for calling Vit-Dio Technology and Chemical Company, where are the best of industrial Manufacturing become consumer good. If this is for a retailer, please press 1..."
Jesus H. Mahogany Christ... of course it had to be an automated answering machine. Why would it be anything different nowadays?
"...for costumer support, please press 8. For updat..."
I didn't give that whiny computerized voice a moment to finish whatever sentence it was programmed to say. I just pressed 8 right away and I was connected to someone rather quickly.
"Hello, this is Joanne speaking. May I I know who I am speaking to?" She said in thst bullshit, happy-to-help voice that each one of these people in the corporate customer support horde had to speak in.
"Sure, my name is John Fitzgerald. "
I was trying to hide the nervousness in my voice.
"Excellent John, and what is it that I can help you with today?"
" I have reason to believe that my 'past step' device might be malfunctioning." I do not know why I got so nervous well speaking to her. Something somewhere in the back of my mind is telling me that something was dreadfully wrong.
"What seems to be the problem?" She said with what had to be a smile.
"Well," I said clearing out my throat "it is shown me that I stepped around Germany but, the problem is I've never been to Germany before my life,"
"Okay, sir, may I have the model number and serial number? "
"Sure, the model number is HCT 74 28. The serial number is 9374 21 F-Q."
I was still going over in my head why I felt so nervous with this phone call. I tried to rationalize it as that I did it really like customer support phone calls but I knew that was not it.
"Hello?" I asked calmly, yet I was given no response. I asked two more times then suddenly a man came on phone.
" Hello, is this John Fitzgerald of 1480 Howell Street, from Syracuse, New York?" He had a sterin voice that was hard like a brick
I was kind of panicky so I just answered him.
"Yes, that is me. Who am I speaking to?"
" I am Major General Peter Kent. I'm going to have some men pick you up. It's rather important that you comply with us. "
I don't remember the gentlemen who came to pick me. Nor do I remember getting in any sort of vehicle. Yet, here I am in a room. Handcuffed none the less. The room was small and I had a small table with a chair no more than 5ft from me. I was sitting upright on a bed come or at least what passed as a bed. The room was just well enough for me to see that the door was no more than 8 feet away from me and that the room was more or less 15ft by 15ft. It felt like hours went by before the door opened and a decorated man came in and sat down on a chair across from me while I sat on a bed.
"Hello Mr. Fitzgerald, my name is Peter Kent. I'm going to ask you a few simple questions and I need you to answer them honestly. Do you understand?" He still spoke with a commanding voice but there was a faint tone of trepidation that he was trying to hide.
I simply shook my head yes. I wanted to go back to the hotel in Germany. I wanted to enjoy my vacation. Then I wanted to go back home and resume life as normally as I could possibly was able to after this event in my life.
"Okay, how old were you in 1987?" He was right back to the commanding voice. There was no more trepidation in his voice that he was trying to hide. It made me wonder if he meant to do that or if it was unintentional but I suppose I'm never going to get my answer.
I took a deep breath and then just answered with a simple "24"
He simply cleared his throat and began to speak again, "At anytime between 1987 and 1990 is there any moment in time in which you cannot remember anything about?"
The damn son of the bitch knew something I didn't. But once I gave him this answer, I figured, I would at least find out what the hell's going on " I was in a two-month coma in 1989. I was hit by a drunk driver. But that's about it. I have some minor brain damage but nothing major. A few months before the accident are still a little fuzzy to this day but that's it. I swear,"
He looked nervous. He begin to sweat and it showed when he took off his hat to reveal his thinning hairline to wipe off some of the sweat that had accumulated on his head.
" Mr. Fitzgerald," he started as he swallowed as much saliva as he could, " you are a sleeper agent to the United States government. That accident was fixed so that way you can do what it was that we needed you to do. There was a microchip planted in you at birth that had a self-destruct mechanism the moment the task was completed and had a tracking mechanism in it as well. However, at some point in time your chip self-destructed but we were never able to locate you. You simply got back home yourself and did something to the body double that we put in your place. We've been looking for you ever since but after a while we assumed that you had died. Due to the circumstances we cannot what you go right away, but you will see your family again. But for right now we need to keep you here for a while, we need to know what exactly happened should the need arise that we need to implement this program again,"
I noticed as he continued to speak his voice was becoming weaker and weaker, almost as if he didn't want to continue talking about this and he did not want any part of it. The truth is nor do I want any part of it. I was a sleeper agent.
He said I would be able to go home eventually. However, they only thing I trust all these old sheets that cover this thin thing that was the bed I was sitting on.
(Not my best work, but I have to do something to entertain me while I'm having a bout of insomnia. I hope this entertained you.)
| 2017-07-07T03:49:57 | 2017-07-07T01:55:37 | 28 | 13 |
[WP] You've been convicted of 1st degree murder, and (as is customary in society) are sentenced to "death by black-hole." You expect death as your capsule approaches the event horizon. After crossing, everything goes silent, until you hear someone say "Sir, I've found another one." | The capsule is small like a coffin. I am led to it with crowds watching, judging. The irony of my conviction is I am innocent. I did not kill my wife. No one believed me, and the evidence, though circumstantial, was not in my favor. The capsule door closes and Earth disappears. The black hole waits for me. Death by burning or spaghettification. The gravity pulls me in, the capsule lengthens, but I do not die.
I emerge and fall to a planet. The capsule crashes as I lose consciousness. When I wake up, a creature with green skin, no head, six limbs talks to someone else in a language I can understand. Something swims around my ear.
"Sir, I've found another one."
"A competitor?"
"Oh yes."
It leads to a jail cell where I wait with others. None of them are human. I feel something move in my ear. I pick at it.
"Don't do that. The earworm helps you to understand everyone. Just leave it. You'll fight soon enough," says a reptilian alien covered in scales.
It has a face and eyes but also six limbs.
"What is this?" I ask.
"This is a place where the road ends. Black hole jumping always ends here. You're an Earthling, famous around here. Tough bastards. Hard to kill."
"How do I escape?" I ask.
"Ain't no escape, friend. This is where we all die, except in rare cases."
Not many had gone through the hole, maybe two dozen in just as many years, but this was worse than death. I would die in a ring to thunderous applause. It would be over soon though.
All the other aliens in the cell stay away from me. The reptile leaves me alone. I never get his name. I think of my wife, Bea. She was amazing. Smart as a supercomputer with blue eyes that melted my heart. Now, she was gone, and the man who killed her roamed free.
After the trial, I asked. "What if I'm found innocent after this?"
The question was never answered. There was no retrieval and no justice. As I wait, I am fed and led to a weird bathroom with a large hole in the ground. When I walk too slow, a guard zaps me. If I walk too fast, I get a hit to the stomach. I want it over. I want the pain to end, but this pain will never heal. I held her in my arms as the life poured out of her, and I had to relive that pain everyday for months at trial. I want the pain to end.
The day comes. I am given armor that covers my torso and my head. A shield and sword finishes the outfit. I wait for the door to open, and, when it does, there are three other aliens facing me. They all attack me. This is it. I am doomed, yet I do not surrender. I lift my sword and cut the first creature in half as I dodge another strike. All three are humanoid and appear to have a head. One is dead already. I dodge the next's attack and cut it in half at the waist and continue the blow cutting off the last one's head. I am alive.
The crowd cheers, and I smile. But, it doesn't change anything. I am still on an alien world, alone. Every day, I compete and win for an entire year. Every time, the urge to survive drives me to win. I wasn't a murderer before I came here, but I am now.
One day, everything changes. A capsule from Earth arrives. I am anxious to meet another human for a variety of reasons. But, I am hopeful until I see who it is. What are the odds? Yet, at the time, of course it would be him. I’ll never forget his face. How could I?
When we square off in the ring, I take my time with him. He is older and weaker. I cut his legs behind the knees dropping him to the ground. As he stands, I kick him in the ribs. He kneels before me.
“Finish it then.”
“Not yet. Why did you kill my wife?”
He squints at me and chuckles to himself.
“Oh, it’s you. You’ve done well for yourself, and they always need competitors. You can go back, you know…as a recruiter.”
“What? You mean my wife was killed, so I would be sent here?”
“Yep.”
I take off his head. The crowd cheers and makes other alien noises that I’ve never been able to describe. But, it’s true. I can go back to recruit, and I do. I didn’t leave a monster but I returned one.
***
If you enjoyed this, please subscribe to r/nickkuvaas for more stories and free giveaways.
If you like the idea of an old Batman and Superman, check out this story: [Alienated, part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/nickkuvaas/comments/4phzj3/batman_superman_and_the_aliens_part_i_the_superman/) | Everything went black, as expected, when they tossed me into the void. This darkness went on for minutes. I figured, "this must be what death feels like". Calming, in a way. I didn't think much about anything in particular. Not until a bright, blue light appeared in the distant. Wherever it was, I could already tell I wasn't supposed to be there. And the light came closer, burning to the point that I had to turn away. And then nothing.
My head was spinning. Lying sideways... gravity restored. A red light began to flicker and fade within the pod, revealing dents all over the simple thing. "ERROR, ERROR" played continuously like a broken record. I wasn't having any of it. Bending my knees and pressing my feet against the entrance of the pod, I'd hoped it would open. It did, and I regretted it instantly when the feeling of cold wind and snow hit my face. Flakes fell onto my black jumpsuit as if a painter had been drawing a galaxy on the fabric. After climbing up and out, the wind felt a lot more pleasant.
I was surrounded, by steep mountains only capped with the snow. Under me was the rocks, coated lightly. Even my shoes stopped me from feeling too much discomfort. Squinting, I could see a narrow split in the mountains and decided to make my way over. Squirming and slipping through the passage revealed several sets of empty hills. I drew a breath and sighed, marching onward and over the first row of hills. The sky wasn't far from bright, but I couldn't see a sun. Nightfall might be an issue. Hunger always is.
After more travel, I encountered another pod. It was busted up more than mine, and the door was sunken into a hill, while the window pointed up. I glanced in to see a gaunt man, eyes wide and in a black jumpsuit. I knocked, half expecting him to react. He didn't.
Never knowing where I was really going, I let my feet guide me. There was no navigating this place, anyhow. But there had to be another. Keeping this in mind, I walked for what had to have been at least an hour. My legs had nearly collapsed. When I least expected it, I saw something move in the distance. The color matched the snow, but the shape didn't. Suddenly, a voice erupted out from my right. "Heya, stranger!"
He was big, had a rifle, and a more average-sized friend in tow. The weapon was unlike anything I've ever seen. Lots of lights, with a sleek design. They both were covered completely in quality, manufactured garb, trapper hats, and the like. The clothes were more gray than black, but not worn or haggard. Little man covered his face with a scarf. Big man had a beard, and waited for me to say anything for a few moments. Honestly, I had to stop and think for a minute. That giant had a few inches on me, and maybe a hundred pounds. He must've noticed at some point.
"Don't look so fucked, bud," he said with a smile. "We're good guys." The other one nodded, though seemed to be scanning around. Not really paying attention.
"Yeah? Good guys that kill people?" If I was going to die, I didn't want to put it off much longer.
His smile faded, though he didn't seem hostile. "Look, I'm Hank. I'll tell ya my story, if ya w-" Before he could finish, a piercing and screeching noise came from above. A pod shot out from a black-hole before the hole silently closed, and the pod slammed down somewhere past several sets of hills. Hank gave the other guy a serious nod and waved him off. Walking closer to me, Hank continued. "As I was sayin', we're not all bad here. Some made mistakes. I made a mistake, killed a fuckin' bunch of crack dealers and other bad dudes. That guy just walkin' with me? He knew me, from before. Ask 'im."
Hank shook his head and stood at the ground, giving me time to ask whatever I needed to. I gave a forceful grimace to play along. "Others... well, they just ain't lucky folk. They're either innocent, or go on an' about like they are. Might as well believe 'em, doesn't really matter here. Unless you FUCK with me." His head jumped a bit towards me, but drew back, and he chuckled. "But you wouldn't do that. Ya don't look like the type."
He turned, pointing in the direction of the last pod drop. His buddy was long gone by now. He opened his mouth to speak, giving himself a good breath, and didn't really have time to notice the fact that my hand went up and out, far to the side. Then, as he turned back, it came in as a fist, up against his exposed throat. The mountain man let out a pained wheeze, bringing one hand up to defend himself. By time time he got it to the right place, I was ready to hit again. My front fist went forward in a light jab. Hank blocked it with his wrist, but wasn't prepared nor quick enough to block my second hook, straight to his jaw. He fell backwards and into the snow.
I stepped forward, dropping my foot onto his face until the cheek caved in and his eyelids stopped closing. The trapper hat covered most of his head, but I knew he wasn't rising. It wasn't even all that bloody, but there was red pouring out from his lips. My eyes darted up, towards the crash site, and then back to Hank. I didn't even want to do that, at the beginning. Guess I am the type. | 2017-07-14T01:23:24 | 2017-07-13T20:45:26 | 24 | 17 |
[WP] Humans are the deadliest, and rarest, species in the known universe. Often, search parties go missing due to a singular encounter with a human ship. It has recently come to light that there is an entire planet full of them. | It was a day they would never forget.
According to the Humans, the date was March 27th of the year 2122 when it happend. It might have been wartime, but it was like any other regular day at the Galactic Alliance headquarter. But it happend during the regular strategy meeting the leaders of the Alliance would.
Since the Alliance was lead by 5 main galactic factions representing themselves and their smaller allied factions, you would expect that there were usually 5 representatives. But for the last six human months, the place of the Qeryuns had been filled with a representative of their smaller allied factions since the Qeryuns had decided to wage their own independent campaign against the humans after 5 human years fighting alongside the rest of the alliance.
"We should increase patrols in the Guh-Gu system, our listening posts have spotted some increased 'Human' activities near that region." uttered Bertu representing the Xaf faction.
Before any other council member could react to this statement, the doors to the meeting room opened and Req, the council member of the Queryuns walked in. The council members looked at the faction leader that had been representing the Queryuns, and saw that he was surprised, he had not expected this to happen.
As soon as Req was seated in the chair he had not been seated in for the last six months, the council demanded an immediate explanation as to why he had returned all of a sudden.
"During our campaign against the humans, we discovered a lot of new things about the "Humans", what they are, how they operate and how they operate. The assumption that their species, like any other species in the galaxy can be defeated in a single battle, is wrong. The human strategy seems to have evolved and never has stopped evolving over their existence."
"But what has this to do with your sudden return Req? your faction holds at least 40% of our total fleet, and a economy that's as much as the rest of our factions combined. So you surely aren't returning from a six month campaign with only observations?"
Req stand up and says "Of course not! But the situation has changed too much for us too stay silent to the rest of you. We have discovered that they have their own planet."
The meeting room erupts into a flurry of emotions ranging disbelief to anger for not telling them immediately of the existence of such a planet. The representative only manages to control the situation after some time of trying.
"Req, your faction claims to have found to home planet of the deadliest, and rarest specie in the universe. This is incredible since information about them is usually vague, incomplete due to their deadly nature. They might even know more about us and the extend of our alliance. We hope you are prepared to share the location of their homeplant so our Alliance can win this war?"
"Well, not exactly" said Req
"and why is that?"
"we are leaving the Alliance" Req said in a serious and very convincing tone.
The meeting room went quiet for a long time until someone asked "what? why?"
"We tried to invade their planet two human weeks ago, and failed at every step. The humans then made us a offer."
"an offer? they made your faction an offer, having never before even talked to any of us? I find that hard to believe and i won't accept it! Tell us what really happend!"
Req sighed catching his breath and said "I understand the confusion, but this is not a lie. The humans are smarter in battle then you think. They have developed their battle strategy over the existence, but they have also been able to look further than us in terms of strategy. When we surrendered to them, we signed a treaty."
"A treaty? is that why your faction is leaving the Alliance? Is it their way of weakening our Alliance?"
"Yes, and they knew more about our us and the Alliance then you knew. They know how important our faction is and decided to use that. But we weren't just required to surrender and leave Alliance, we entered a military partnership."
The meeting room was now filled with a aura of disbelief, they knew Req was not one to joke about such matters.
"Do-...Does that make you now our ehne-....enemy?" stammered one of the faction leaders.
"Yes" said Req in a firm tone "It might not be what we set out for 6 months ago, but they are allowing us to remain independent and see us as equals."
Req started to walk away, only to turn around and say "this isn't the goodbye i hoped it would be but this is the situation right now."
Req opened the door, when suddenly one of the faction leaders shouted "At least tell us how you lost to them?"
Req turned around and told them: "according to the humans we made a mistakes that other humans armies and leaders have made throught out their history."
"and that is?"
"We invaded a region of their planet they call "Russia" during a cold period they refer to as "winter". | Ship YZ089 has haunted the Ortalem species for years. The ship had been part of an exploratory program in search of C40H56. Ortalem biological functions had so completely evolved that they longer died of any cause except C40H56 deficiency. Without it, their bodies would harden like stone until it killed them. Just a tiny amount prevented this. It occurred naturally on their planet as a red crystal, but could not be renewed fast enough for the growing population. YZ089 was the only ship to find C40H56. They broadcasted their discovery and then disappeared
This is the story as most Ortalem know it. Only the Council knew the rest of what happened, and it terrified them.
YZ089’s crew had been on something of a suicide mission. Determined to find the needed crystal, they decided to explore until their rations had run out. A red planet in a newly discovered solar system gave great hope, but ultimately lacked what they were looking for. They decided to go one planet closer to that system’s sun.
It was a miracle when some dead organic material found near the landing site scanned positive for C40H56. It wasn’t a red crystal, but instead a dark lumpy mass. After communicating the discovery to the Council they were told to collect the sample to bring home, but that they were to consume a little if their stores had gotten low. Statues of the crew could be made without their becoming stone themselves. Knowing the relief it would bring to the masses, one of the Council members, Otamo, secretly brought a copy of this transmission to the press.
The ozone in the planet’s atmosphere had badly damaged YZ089. A few days in to necessary repairs, the YZ089 crew decided to partake of their spoils. Communication was established to document the first consumption and to send scanned data of the organic material. There was a toast, and then each took a hearty bite, it would be enough C40H56 to last the trip home. Within minutes of eating it the Ortalem crew curled over in pain, unable to speak. Moments later they were all dead. Home base sent a remote command to the ship’s auto-pilot system for it to bring the crew home. The ship transmitted a confirmation and began streaming its flight data.
Final word from YZ089 was that its outer hull was not safe for the vacuum of space. The ship was rerouting to land when 46,000 feet above the surface something struck the ship. The last thing broadcast was Ortalem bodies, not stone, but soft and lifeless, being tossed around the cabin during the crash.
To the council it was clear; the ship had been attacked. The only things known about the creature were that: upon its death it lost most of its mass and turned to mush, the C40H56 it contained was fatal, and virtual reconstruction of its genetic material showed they looked exactly like the Ortalem.
Celebrations were silenced once the Council announced YZ089 had been lost in a black hole. They decided to end the exploratory program to prevent any further tragedies. In reality they feared the creature so deadly to their species, and so willing to attack. Resources would be allocated to figuring out how to cultivate C40H56 at home. Since all prior attempts at cultivation had failed, the public clamored that the lost crew, or the planet they discovered, be found. When the remaining exploratory ships arrived home, some were hidden by crews that agreed with the public.
No one knew that Otamo leaked the initial transmission. In his deep shame at prematurely giving hope to the Ortalem, he left the Council and joined one of the defunct exploratory crews in their search for YZ089’s planet.
Otamo never shared with the crew that he had been a member of the Council. He knew the contempt most people felt toward them these days, and the contempt was greater still among the discarded exploratory crews. Before resigning, Otamo stole YZ089’s route logs and used it to gain a spot on the rogue ship. He said a sympathizing old friend who worked under a Council member had gotten the information. It matched official exploratory documents the crew knew in and out and decided it was the best chance they had at finding the planet they sought. No other information was shared; anything else would have led to incredulity.
Long in to the voyage a member of the crew shared news of a red planet coming in to view.
“Let’s pass it,” Otamo said. He knew the planet didn’t contain what they were looking for. Remembering the desolation YZ089’s crew expressed at leaving that red planet, he almost felt guilty about his pleasure, knowing they were so close to the right place.
“Why the hell should we do that?”
“Because, captain, it’s not C40H56.”
The captain rose from her chair and went to see the image of the red planet.
“See, it’s the wrong shade of red. I think we should continue to the next one.”
Moving closer to the screen, the captain nearly pressed her face to the image.
“I’m telling you, it’s a waste of time.”
The captain glared at Otamo. “Why don’t you tell us how you know, then? How do you know that a giant red planet isn’t something we should look at?”
“The logs…” Otamo was interrupted by a crew member across the room.
“A distress signal!”
The captain rushed to him. On a screen were the words:
Location: Veght
Distress: 28A2M80
Ship: YZ089
| 2017-11-08T20:03:55 | 2017-11-08T19:38:11 | 207 | 89 |
[WP] You are the greatest and most feared hitman in the world. The reason? You don’t kill your victims: You do something much worse. | The man tied to the chair with a gag in his mouth started to stir. "Ah good, you're awake. I do wish to wrap up this contract." said the hitman.
The man crawled back to consciousness quickly as the drug wore off, and looked at hitman and around the room he was in. The room was almost empty, with no windows and only one door. He noticed almost nothing, save for a tray with a on a small table. On the tray was a cup filled with a yellowish liquid with a clear poison symbol on it and a long hypo filled with some clear substance. There was also a small video camera set up on a tripod.
"You probably got a thousand thoughts and questions running through your mind. I've heard them all before.", offered the hitman, reading his expression. "Let me try to answer most of them. You're here because you pissed someone off, someone rich enough to want you dead and willing to pay for it. Who doesn't matter, or at least it won't in a few moments." The man's eye's went wide at that statement. He tried to speak, but the gag allowed only a few unintelligible grunts.
"A job's a job after all. Don't bother trying to pay me to let you go. I wouldn't last long in this business if I accepted that. Oh don't worry. I won't kill you, but I'm afraid I must eliminate you." The hitman could see look of puzzlement in his victim's eyes.
"To answer the question, I don't kill you, you kill you. You've noticed the tray. The cup is filled with a deadly poison. It's quick and I believe painless. You may choose to drink it, which I would advise. You see, I don't kill you, you kill you. And the camera will record your suicide." An evil smile appeared on the hitman's face. "If you don't, then I will inject you with what's in the hypo next to it."
"Now the hypo is filled with a special chemical that when injected into the right area of the spine, will cause hallucinations within about 10 minutes - horrible hallucinations. There is no cure. The hallucinations will last the rest of your life. You will spend the rest of your days locked in a padded cell screaming at monsters only you can see. You will see them both when awake and even sleep won't stop them from tormenting you. Most of those who choose the needle commit suicide rather quickly. A few of the less lucky ones are pumped full of mind altering drugs, or are lobotomized. Either way, they spend the rest of their days as mindless vegetable in an insane asylum."
"I've seen the toll that takes on their family. Not good. Which is why I do advise the poison. Now I'm going to untie one of your arms. You can then point to which you want. If you don't make a choice within 5 minutes, you get the needle. And if you are thinking about making some Hollywood type escape when I untie your arm, think again. The drug still pumping through your system will slow you down so much you have no chance, and you forfeit the poison option."
With that, the hitman moved the tray over to the victim, took the hypo off the tray, and turned on the camera. "And don't bother yelling for help. The walls are quite sound proof. Here, I'll demonstrate - 'HELP, HELP ME! MURDER! MURDER!' See, no one can hear you."
He then pulled out a knife, and cut on arm free, removed the gag, and stood behind the victim with the needle. "The choice is now yours..." | "Bronson! Get down here, I'm going to need some help with this one."
The butler cringed at his master's shout but he did as he was bidden, quickly putting down his tools and scurrying up to the central hall. The gilded front doors were shoved open and the dark-clad gentleman was dragging a very large man. When he saw Bronson, he dropped the body unceremoniously onto the white carpet.
"Whatever have you been up to Bronson? You knew tonight was another mark. I could have used your help outside."
"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir." The butler bobbed his neck in swift admonishment. "I was readying the piping."
The gentleman heaved a sigh, "Very good. It's all ready then?"
"Yes, Sir." The butler looked down at the newly arrived specimen. The man's face was covered with a brown potato sack and his hands were zip-tied tightly behind him, so tight that the flesh at his wrists bulged in plump red hills on either side of the thin plastic. He was dressed in business slacks and a freshly pressed jacket, tailored clothes by the look of them. Bronson assumed CEO or maybe a CFO given the clean sheen on the soles of his leather shoes.
"Well don't just gawk at him, go on." The gentleman waved at the body and strode past the hall and down the stairwell from whence his butler had come.
Bronson snapped to attention. He bent down and slipped the businessman's limp body over his shoulders and heaved him up. This mark was no small thing, but Bronson was used to shifting around his master's bodies and barrels and so he found a semi-comfortable position with the businessman and lumbered towards and down the stairs.
His master stood at the end of the workshop fussing with the mark's new home. Bronson shuffled past the others, their wide eyes watching in horror as he maneuvered the businessman into the glass case at the end. His master helped him then and together they stripped the man down and positioned him into the case where he was secured in a standing position.
"He'll only be unconscious for another thirty minutes or so." The gentleman murmured. "We need to act fast to get his blood ready."
The butler nodded and rushed off to wheel in the appropriate medical apparatuses. Cuts were deftly made into the mark's body and pipes threaded inside so that he would receive the nutrients necessary to keep him alive and his waste would be cleanly pumped out. Last of all, this was the gentleman's favorite part, two needles were inserted into the man's left and right forearm with long, thin tubes connecting them to the large glass vat that hung outside the glass casing.
"Done." The gentleman smiled at long last. He snatched the potato sack from the man's head and deftly shut the glass door. That would be the last time anyone would touch the mark while he was alive.
Or so they thought.
The gentleman pushed a button above the glass vat. There was a soft whirring and the first of the mark's blood began pumping out of his body. Both the butler and the gentleman watched in silence as the red liquid pushed its way down the piping and dripped bead by bead into the glass vat.
"This one is supposed to have a high sugar content." The gentleman mused. "He'll make an outstanding vintage."
Bronson nodded and looked at the naked woman that hung in the glass casing just to the right of the newest mark. Her mouth was open in horror and a large tear bled down, tracing the hard angles of her jaw. He shrugged at her.
"Come now Bronson," the gentleman clapped his hand on Bronson's back, he was always in the best of spirits after a new acquisition, "I would taste the blood wine we made from the Chinaman. It should be in good form now."
Bronson nodded and the two made their way back up the stairs. The businessman's eyes fluttered open and he smiled as they pranced away. Pain hummed through his body yet still his lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk. The coming weeks would be torment, but he could withstand. For his blood would be last that the assassin would ever taste and at long last, vengeance would be his.
| 2018-02-12T12:57:47 | 2018-02-12T12:52:26 | 20 | 11 |
[WP] Your quirk is the ability to understand all languages, extending to fictional ones not meant to be understood such as simlish. This leads to some... interesting results. | 18 years old. That's how old I was when it happened. I sat down at my computer and I started reading. I read everything, ANYTHING I could get my hands on. I clicked on one of those weird ".de" website links and my blood ran cold when I realized that I understood every word on the page. I had only ever heard German once or twice on an old TV show I used to watch after school. Google offered to translate the page and I hit yes. The translation in my head had been better.
I was transfixed, delving into every website in every language I could think of. I found sites in Korean, Afrikaans, pictures of tablets in obscure dialects of Urdu, ancient hieroglyphs, anything you could imagine. Most were what you'd expect: blogs, fairy tales about monsters and floods, government statistics. I must have been staring at the screen for hours.
"John!" Mom called from downstairs, breaking me out of my trance. "It's time for dinner! Get down here!"
I stood up, suddenly realizing how hungry I was. No. NO. I was busy. This was important. I sat back down and kept searching. Kept reading. Studying. Learning. Mom called me a few more times but she eventually gave up. I heard her put everything away and go to bed.
Bed. Sleep. Rest... God that sounded like a great idea. I had been up here all day and all night staring at this screen. I stood up again and stretched. No. NO. NO! This was insane, I had to keep reading. Keep learning!
I woke up with my face on the keyboard. It was morning. Crap! I was going to be late for school! "John, the school bus is here!" Mom yelled. I could tell she was upset with me for missing dinner last night. She always-
It hit me like a freight train: Last night, I had understood her perfectly when she called me to dinner.
Now she was calling me to school, and I could understand every word of her angry-sounding gibberish. Gibberish! Everyone I know; my family, friends, teachers, neighbors... they all talk in a language that I now realize is gibberish. My mind clicked on again and I felt a new word form: Simlish. | "I'm sorry, run that by me again?" Jonah asked, finally reaching the end of his patience. Two men sitting in the corner of the bar abruptly sat up, surprised that a foreigner had spoken to them in their language. Jonah had come to Brazil on a personal trip to try and locate a few older texts he had been tracking down for the last few months. "How in the hell do you know Totel? It's completely made up, gibberish!" the largest of the men growled, flustered and incapable of rational thought. "Do you know where you are fool?" the shorter one on the left spat. "You're in Santa Rozka, the most popular bar in Peru!".
Santa Rozka was actually located about twenty miles into Brazil's territory. However, due to the surfacing of powers within the last few generation, gangs in both Brazil and Peru alike began to run wild, without regulation or anyone who could stop their progress. Before long, a 150 mile circumference of land, spanning between Peru, Bolivia, and Brazil was borderline blocked off to all but the most exclusive of individuals, and branded "the dead zone". It had taken Jonah nearly five months to gain access to the territory, only barely finding residence by helping a high ranking mafioso translate a letter from operatives in another region.
"I know damn well where I am scum."Jonah shot at the smaller gangster. "I'm not about to take any flack from a bad mouthed midget, especially not one with forks for hair". The smaller gangster seemed to have metal hair, which waved wildly back and forth as Jonah egged the manlet on. The larger of the two had wild eyes, and was covered with blades from head to toe. A large reservoir built into a backpack laid beside him, filled with a substance that resembled talcum powder. "You'll regret talking back to us, four-eyes!" barked the larger of the men, who swung the container onto his back and heaved a great sword into a ready position.
Jonah began backing towards the door, all the while rummaging through his bag.
"We'll teach you what happens when you mouth off to the Totel!" the vertically challenged man shouted. The sound of grinding metal filled the air, and a barrage of metal fragments aimed at Jonah flew across the bar. Kicking the nearest table onto it side, Jonah ducked behind his makeshift barricade, finally retrieving the item he'd been searching for in his bag. A large, flesh bound book rested in Jonah's lap, with the words "Gastrid Grimoire, volume III " written on the spine of the book in a language even Jonah had not seen before. "I'd of really like to test this thing out first" Jonah sighed. Peering over the top of his table at the fast approaching gangsters, Jonah scoffed. "I guess these chuckle-heads will have to do though."
Let me know if you want more, Im studying for finals and I got severely distracted. | 2018-05-03T18:13:20 | 2018-05-03T17:53:20 | 137 | 59 |
[WP] Aliens invade Earth. Turns out Human weapons technology is way more advanced than it should be. | The year was Sol Standard 2025. Humanity had turned its eyes and ears to the stars to see if there was more outside of its home planet. Historians believe that the only reason humanity did not reach out into the stars earlier than that point in their history is because of the bizarre wealth culture they had created. Now, with hindsight, we can look back on this time period and see just the folly of turning against one another, but back then we could not know that we were not alone. Humanity, it seems, possesses a powerful need to *need*. We *need* to understand. We *need* to explore. We *need* to be able to need. However, that is another discussion for another time. In that fated year our little planet was invaded by a powerful alien race called the Hrodan. Individually, a Hrodan is much stronger than a single human being. Standing five foot tall at the shoulder and covered in a thick, furred hide. Their snouts were short and close to their face and their quadrupedal frame was thick with corded muscle.
The humanity of that time had only ever skimmed the surface of their own planetary edge. They had no space\-borne weapons as they never considered to need any. However, they were not taken unaware. The Hrodan started their invasion by dropping assault forces on each major continent to establish beach heads. They met very little resistance in the old Asian continent and were swiftly able to consolidate their power in the Russian lands. However, in the other continents they did not fare so well. Humanities need to need naturally creates conflict with other humans because one human's need may be contrary to another human's need. Humans had gotten very good at fighting and some humans made it their need to test the limit of human martial power. The Hrodan had never before encountered a planet\-stranded race that could match their own armaments.
Old humanity thought that alien races would invade with laser\-based weapons and weapons so powerful they could scour the planet of life. Nothing could be farther from the truth. The basic Hrodan assault rifle was a weapon very similar to our own rifles at the time, although of a larger caliber, given the Hrodan's larger strength. During the war, humanity had learned that the Hrodan preferred to close in and kill in bloody melee combat because they could not reliably aim their weapons while they were moving since they were shoulder mounted. With our ground troops armaments evenly matched our superior accuracy and military might allowed us the edge over the common Hrodan trooper. What pushed us over the edge, however, was our vehicles. Old Earth military vehicles were frighteningly powerful because of our need to understand bigger and bigger weapons. The Hrodan had never made a bomb that was stronger than even the first nuclear warheads that humanity had made just the century prior. The Hrodan thought that any race that could manufacture such destructive weaponry were insane and would destroy themselves. Who know, if the Hrodan had not invaded and shown us there was more out there in our universe, we just may have in our need to need.
In the year Sol Standard 2028, just three years after the start of the invasion we had destroyed almost a quarter of the orbiting Hrodan fleet with our weapons that we had called "weapons of mass destruction." Humanity can be startlingly omniscient at times. The Hrodan had called for an armistice. They were not able to effectively counter our adaptability or our firepower and their best weapons were nothing compared to our defense systems. It is recorded that the humanity of that time accepted the armistice and were eventually able to find true peace with the Hrodan. That jump started our greatest need. Our need to conquer. | The Fatal Error
---
The Slock were a powerful species, and they dreamt of the day they would control the Galaxy. It was the year of 2018 A.D (Sol-3 years) that they discovered the Sol system. It was an intriguing solar system, devoid of habitable planets except one. This planet was the perfect world. Filled to the brim with rare and expensive materials. It was every type of habitable planet mixed into one, and the Slock knew they wanted it.
They deployed their best general, general San Andrios Gurreriuos of the planet Sandreis (Vahn-6) to attack the inhabitants, the species known as "humanity." Humanity, of course, is an oddly diverse species, with some races being pacifist, and others warrior races, the strongest being the races of American and Russian. Besides the issue with Americans and Russians, San Andrios assumed it would be an easy fight, for the Slocks were the best sword fighters in the galaxy, and the humans seemed to lack even the most basic of swords. Also, the Slocks had the most powerful steam engines, they could easily use steam devices to bombard Sol-3. The humans had barely invented space capsules, and all that was in space were a few satellites San Andrios assumed were dead.
It took less than a minute for NASA to be alerted that alien ships were just outside of the atmosphere. Unlike Roswell, such a thing was to serious to hide from the public, besides SpaceX had already alerted the public. The President immediately pulled troops out of Syria and pressed a new button, the Space Button (yeah, I couldn't come up with a good name...) At this NASA and the US Marine Corps unveiled a new type of soldier, the Space Marine. Clothed in SpaceX Armored Space Suits and armed with SC-2s (Space-Carbine Mark 2), they were a serious threat to any invading aliens.
San Andrios was quickly alerted that the humans had spotted them and were sending up their space capsules. He sharpened his titanium blade in anticipation, he couldn't wait to see what sorts of knights the humans possessed. The space capsule latched onto the airlock of San Andrios's ship. Guards waited, wearing full steel plate armor and carrying aluminum sabres. San Andrios watched the camera feed curiously, for what were these humans going to do? Suddenly, the airlock opened, and out came human soldiers. They wore strange armor of white, full body armor made out of carbon fiber and strengthened with exosuits powered with uranium. The guards quickly went down, they weren't even able to get close before they were cut down by 5.56 Cosmoses. San Andrios jumped in shock, never before had a species used such technology, he'd thought that only Slocks had steamguns, and even then he'd never seen a species so powerful they gave even the most minor of foot soldiers such technology, for he was the only one onboard that was armed with a steamgun! Even then, steamguns could only fire one lead ball, and they didn't produce flashes or smoke. Meanwhile, the humans had secured the Eastern Airlock (Objective Alpha according to the US Military's documents,) and were now laying down barbed wire and wall reinforcements. One Russian soldier, called, Kapkan, was laying explosive traps on the doorways. They sent out a scout, whom San Andrios watched. A Slock soldier managed to get the jump on this scout, but his broadsword simply bounced off of the human's armor without even scratching the paint. The Slock soldier was fearful, his blade had simply done nothing, and now the human was staring at him, he couldn't see the human's face but he knew it was grinning an evil grin. He felt nothing as lead imbedded itself into his eved (a heart-like muscle that is unique to pure-bred Slocks).
Undetected, several Space Marines were walking upon the outside of the Slock's command ship. They had been ordered to find the bridge's windows and breach. The Space Marines within the ship itself were a mere distraction. They soon found the window. San Andrios was distracted by the video feed, when around ten humans, fully dressed in black, burst through the bridge's window, only the thin force-field kept everything from being sucked outside the ship.
---
I might continue making this story, but I'm not certain.
Edit: fixed a bit of grammar and spelling | 2018-05-16T14:12:27 | 2018-05-16T13:43:49 | 181 | 89 |
[WP] You probably should have thought it through before you accepted those magical items. Now you’re stuck with a bloodthirsty sword, an overprotective shield, cowardly boots and an arrogant spellbook.
Edit:~~apparently I have “2” comments, but I only see the automatic one. How does that even happen~~thanks for the explanations!
Edit 2: did not expect this to blow up the way it did. Thanks to anonymous for the gold award! | "No, no, NO, NOOOOOO! DROP THAT KNIFE RIGHT NOW AND USE ME! USE MEEEEEEEEE!"
I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose. Knowing that it wouldn't shut up until I listened, i put the very sensibly-sized not sentient knife down. "Fine."
"Yesssss," Aramok hissed. The sword couldn't physically move on its own, but I hear its voice in my head trembling with joy. "Let. Me. *Cut*. And cut and cut and cut. Together, you and I spill blood enough to darken the river and poison all its fish."
"If you keep talking, I'm going back to the knife," I grumbled. I gripped the hilt and lifted up Aramok with a grunt. It wasn't even a well-made sword; the weight-balance was totally off. And yet, I had eagerly accepted the gift. Ha. *Gift.* What was I thinking?
"Do not be so foolish as to forget me!" A squeaky, almost girlish voice chimed in.
"Dammit, not you too, Valda." I stared in dismay at the enormous shield that lay against the wall. "What would I even need you for right now?"
"There is always need for more protection," it reminded me. "Especially when wading into dangerous battle with Aramok the Bloodlusted One."
In retrospect, that epithet was a clear red flag.
"Yes, but I'm obviously not about to battle," I tried to explain. "The worst that can happen is I'll get a cut on my fingers from using this stupid, heavy sword--"
"A CUT? Which leads to skin rupture and nerve damage and vessel breakage which all leads to PAIN AND BLEEDING? NOOO!"
"Son of a bitch, I forgot about you too," I sighed. I tried walking back, but the Boots of Cowardice (seriously, why would I willingly take something with 'cowardice' in its name? And *wear* it, just for fun?) kept me from budging. It was if they suddenly weighed a ton. "OK, Courage and Valor, what do you want from me?"
"Use Valda," they cried. Their stupid voices were muffled, too, presumably because my feet were inside them. "Protect us from the world and all its darkness!"
Knowing that logica; explanations would be no help here, I just rolled my eyes, grabbed Valda by the straps, and dragged my unnecessarily encumbered self back to the kitchen counter.
"Whose life shall we end tonight, Master?" Aramok's voice came as an annoying whisper. "A dark sorceror's? A demon's? Or perhaps that of an innocent mother of two?"
"The hell?"
"I don't judge."
"We are killing no one here, as I've told you so many times," I said through gritted teeth. "I'm just trying to make *lunch*."
With that, I swung downward with much greater force than I prepared for, utterly destroying the cutting board and splintering the counter underneath. On the bright side, I now, finally, had a slice of ham for my sandwich. I decided to forgo cutting any green onions because I was tired of lifting Aramok. Instead, I hungrily fished out two slices of white bread from the plastic bag.
"You wish to consume un-toasted bread?" Valda snuck in. "Think before you err!"
"Oh my God, now you're judging my food choices, too?" I shouted at the shield that I was still pointlessly gripping. "You're a shield! Why would you even care?"
"My job is to protect you, sire. Against death and mediocre lunches alike."
"I don't have the time or patience to toast it!" I yelled. "I'd have to drag the toaster out from God knows where, and plug it in, and--"
Then, a voice rang out from the living room. "That's no problem, master; just use one of the heat spells I have within me! I promise you, they are literally the best spells you could ever find anywhere. The. BEST!"
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*Liked that story? Want more like it? Check out* r/Idreamofdragons! | I was crouched in the corner of my living room, plugging my ears with fingers, trying to escape their noise. I hadn't used them since the month I'd got em and now they wouldn't shut up about it. Whispers, man, the fucking whispers won't stop, whispers coming out of nowhere and everywhere at once, asking me to murder *this* demon or cast *that* spell of destruction. But I know where they're coming from, who's planting these urges in me.
*^(slaaayyy the demon Azareth....)*
*^(RUN, RUN NOW, THE UNDEAD ARE UPON YOU...)*
*^(Speeaaak, speak the name of Ulathril, summoon the typhoon...)*
"FUCKING SHUT UP ALREADY," I shouted.
Silence. Peace. No more whispers.
Then,
*^(Garryyy, the fate of the world is upon you, use The Chosen Objects, save the realm...)*
Grunting and groaning, I stomped to the coffee table and flung off the Star Wars blanket I'd used to hide the magic items >!(Somehow I believed that the power of Sci-Fi would nullify the magic....stupid, stupid...). !< There they were. A blood-red sword >!(Was that real blood? I didn't want to know...Dried Mozzarella it is...)!<. A cracked silver shield. Beaten-up boots that looked stolen from the nearest Payless. And a leather-bound book.
"Okay. Okay," I began, desperate, nearly foaming at the mouth with anger. I hadn't had a good night's sleep in weeks. I hadn't been able to catch up on any of my favorite shows >!(7 fucking seasons of Game of Thrones, that 2nd season of WestWorld that I hear isn't very good but that i'll compulsively watch anyway)!< because these four objects had insisted on ridiculous burgeoning quests. "I got work in two hours. Two hours. That's all you get. That's it. After that, you're done. No more. I'll do whatever the hell it is you want me to for two hours."
*^(Garrrrryyyy, take The Ravager's sword, slay the demon Azareth, use Maven's shield to block Its fire, run on the boots of cowardly-swiftness to escape from the burgeoning rift in the realm, speak the name of Ulathtril's book and summon the typhoon that will cleanse the world.)*
The words seem to float from all the items together, all at once.
I thought about it for a moment. I'd been putting it off for weeks. I'd tried throwing the stupid things in a dumpster, but just like the guy from craigslist said, they'd just show up again when I wasn't looking. >!(Protip: don't accept quests from Craigslist -- even if you think it'll be a funny joke, EVEN if you think the black-hooded, pale-faced, ice-white eyed guy is just trolling you...the slight chance that he isn't will leave your head spinning).!<
I had to be in the office by 11am or else I'd lose my job for sure. Too much previous slacking that's accumulated over the years.
I sighed. But what choice did I have? >!(I only had a month or two until season 8 of Game Of Thrones, so I needed to get my life back).!<
"Okay." I said, "Okay, I'll do it."
I sheathed the sword in an old guitar bag I got from a garage sale, slipped on extra socks to fit into the boots, duck-taped a messenger-bag-style strap onto the shield and wrapped it around my back, then slipped the spell-book in a fanny pack. I was ready.
"Where do I go first?" I whispered when I was standing outside my SF apartment>!(If anyone else was around, watching me talk to myself, they'd think I was a madman).!<
The spell-book in my fanny-pack vibrated, and when I opened its pages an image of an abandoned office-building showed up in a page that was previously empty.
"Okay, actually, um, I think I know where that is." I paused. "Muni doesn't go that way, though."
The boots felt weird on my feet -- I was teetering back and forth and could barely walk in them. Could I really outrun a demon wearing these silly things?
I pulled out my phone and called an Uber.
When it came, I was surprised to find that the driver was wearing a dirty old cowl etched with strange symbols, was fully adorned in a suit of armor that didn't fit him well and looked absolutely awkward to sit and drive-in.
He looked me up and down before I got in the car.
"You too, huh?" He asked.
I nodded my head.
"Fuck man. Okay, let's just get this over with."
So the quest began. | 2019-02-02T12:33:01 | 2019-02-02T12:16:33 | 104 | 12 |
[WP] You live in an ancient world, when someone turns 18, they will receive a gift either magic or weapon. The gift will be of use for them whenever in need. On your 18th birthday, Death knocks on your door and give you his scythe. | Today, is the day death dies.
Finished reaping demise.
Done seeing pain in eyes
Done sending souls through the skies.
Yes my dear boy,happy birthday to you,
The old legend sure holds true.
Once a millennia, twice the pain,
A reaper comes and awards new reign.
You have an important list you will not feign -
worry not, reapings shall not be held in vain.
You target the sickly and the dying,
To the gates of heaven deliver them prying.
Yet the murderers and thieves send to hell frying,
The hesitant must go as well as the complying.
It is a tough job, saying otherwise would be lying.
| Middle of the night, I was sound asleep like a bastard and I hear the door banging like a brothel, nearly shat myself when i heard it. So I lumbered out of bed, dragged myself to the door, I was preparing myself for a shock you know the sort of thing, fire or another donkey jumped off the cliff. I nearly hit him, when I opened the door, it was Barry Scipio Africanous with another sucidily funny joke so I slammed the door in his face, nearly took his nose off.
I danderd back to bed and the knocking started again louder this time, I marched to the door, this time I was going to feed Barry his teeth, I’d spent a long day De corpsing the coliseum and was tired of this shit. I opened the door and a scythe was thrust into my hand, I’m not an angry man but what use would a farmer have for another fucking scythe. I split the thing across my knee and the figure at the door disappeared.
I apparently for some reason became immortal after that little incident and now I throw bricks at the blind to pass the time, I’ve had a lot of time on my hands and literally done everything else, so I think I’m coping well with being cursed for breaking the staff of Garry.
More light warfare r/gliggett | 2019-02-28T22:49:03 | 2019-02-28T21:09:32 | 39 | 22 |
[WP] You have mastered your trade over the years. An expert in your craft, your skills are in high demand, as you are the only one in the world capable of these repairs. It’s time for another flight, this time to Miami. The McDonald’s ice cream machine needs to be fixed. | I always ask them to close the store first. Most of the time they do, but I don't mind waiting. I get paid, anyway. Pretty sweet gig.
It's always so hard to open. They add all this mechanical crap in the way. Sometimes it serves as a sort of locking mechanism, other times it's just a distraction. Obnoxious, but hey. This ones kinda old so I just push some junk out the way and turn the key.
"Hey little guy." A pair of eyes shows me it's listening, but it doesn't respond. I don't mind if they're not chatty.
My suitcase has some crackers. They usually call them "capkers." I don't know if that's an act or not. I once read a story about a boy who always chose a dollar bill over a fiver, because "if I take the five they won't give me ones anymore." I can't quite figure out if these things are pulling that kinda deal or if they're just weird.
"Not making icecream anymore, huh?" I hand it a cracker. A little hand takes it. Cheese toast and peanut butter seems to do the trick, but I prefer the spicy ones.
"I don't like the manager." I froze. They don't actually have a reason to stop working most of the time. They just want some attention. Hell, I usually just want some attention. "Why not?" I make an effort to hide my surprise. I don't want him to think anything's wrong. Him? it.
"He hits the small one." Okay, yeah, that will do it. There's a few girls who could be "the small one" but that probably isn't important. Just fire the manager and the machine will work.
"Okay, I tell you what. I'll make sure he stays home from now on. How's that sound?" They don't like the word fire. I'm not going to explain how jobs work. I'm tired of doing that.
But, it shakes it's head at me. Why? "Uh, why?" I should have asked what it wants, but this isn't exactly routine. It thinks for a minute. "I'd like him to stay with me, actually." My heart sank. What did it mean by 'hit?'
"Alright." | The limo driver opened the door to the darkened facility.
For years, I had watched one by one of my fellow CreamSmithes ^^TM retire, get shaky hands, or just plain old drop dead from old age. I was not just one of the last, I was _the last_.
Carefully and respectfully I removed my velvet enclosed toolkit of widgets. The special and proprietary wrench loosener, for example, kept the internal springs from dropping out while I removed the churn-gasket. I had to remove the churn-gasket because the air-pressure manifold had to be accessed from that.
Often times I had joked it was like doing aircraft maintenance with the delicacy of a heart surgeon operating with the constraints of a proctologist. There was literally only two ports on the machine, the input port for ingredients, and the output port where all the entire state's centralized production of ice cream came from.
It had a massive throughput rate, and gave an amazing distinctive taste due to its proprietary air pressure techniques (which I may not reveal here). However, it was brittle, and breakdowns in major facilities in every state kept me busy (and rich) for the better part of every week.
Carefully, I removed the chisel-pick which was needed to start the process of disassembly.
Something was off though. Usually, the facility had no other smell than the distinctive smell of ice cream ingredients. Today, there was a greasy smell of french fries, as if someone had been standing in front of a flash fryer the whole day. I caught a flash of movement in the corner of my eye, and reached for my heavy autotorque wrench. It was a precision instrument but I could always count on it to swing my way out of trouble.
Warily, I climbed from my half-kneeling position into a low crouch. The recently laid-out painter's canvas I was standing on did nothing to reassure me.
"There's no need for that. " A firm but mocking voice sounded down the hallway.
"Mr Kroc?" I was surprised to see him sauntering from the far end of the hallway.
"Did you really think I would come alone...?" He mocked me.
I glanced around wildly. I could be surrounded by goons!
"Oh don't worry, mac! I've got something better than muscle with me." He stepped aside as another dark shadow took his space. It might have been a trick of the light, but I might have seen the person's eyes glow red briefly.
"I brought the corporate lawyer. He's done some research. And according to the terms of the original franchising, the contract to make ice cream using that machine ..." He stopped to give it a frustrated kick to my huge dismay.
"...Expired early this morning. We will no longer be making ice cream with real milk. Think of the savings I could have from using a powder milk substitute! The customers won't even notice! I am here personally to ... terminate it." He smiled, sharp teeth visible, then gestured to the lawyer to pull out the briefcase. | 2019-09-10T02:58:07 | 2019-09-09T21:06:19 | 23 | 15 |
[WP] Diagnosed with schizophrenia. Since birth, 24/7 you’ve heard the voice and thoughts of a girl that you’ve been told is made up in your head. You’re 37 and hear the voice say “turn around, did I find you?” and you turn to see a real girl who’s heard every thought you’ve ever had and vice versa. | "Turn around. Did I find you?"
I became a stalagmite of dread, paralyzed in place by the voice that reverberated in my head. Clear as the crisp smell of rain on asphalt. Powerful as an shameful orgasm.
I turned around, certain that the Voice -- creatively named, that -- would be naught but my mental illness quixotically tormenting the spinning gears of my mind.
"You did always have a way with words, but Jesus, take a creative writing class once in a while."
I stood, stricken dumb. Additional parts of my psyche and anatomy experienced a cascading series of failures, until I was reduced to "um," "what," and "uhhhhh..." as the entirety of my skillset. She laughed. This astonishing, wildflower-scented, scarlet-haired woman in front of me was *laughing.* I could hear her laughter. Why could I hear her? I've never heard anyone make this sound before; only the Voice had taught me these things.
I signed to her. *Who are you?*
"Wait. You're Deaf? But I -- but I would've known. I should've known, right?" Her jocund 'I've-found-you' smile turned into a mask of confusion.
Taking care to fully form my thoughts as I was signing them, I told her: *Look, I can hear you, but I thought you were the Voice. You're supposed to be living in my head. Why are you real? Why can I understand your thoughts?*
"I'm in the same boat as you, I have nooooo idea. It's kind of stronger in one direction, though. I can only hear yours when you're really close to me, but I can feel you listening to me no matter where I go. That's how I found you, actually. I heard you for the first time, here at Lost Beans. I decided to broadcast myself and see who turned around. I, uh, I had no idea it'd be someone like you, I'll be honest."
*How do you think I feel?*
"Granted."
*What do we do now? I mean, you're the first person I've ever had a verbal, well verbal-ish, conversation with. I don't know what to say.*
She put her hands in mine. "Make some kind of superhero team? I don't know either."
*Maybe we should order some coffee. Come up with our secret identities.*
She laughed. And in an awkwardly cute effort, she slowly signed the phrase: "I'd like that." | I had always heard her voice. No matter what the dose of medication, experimental treatment -- she was always there. In High School, through college. Shit, when I lost my first tooth. Doctors said I had schizophrenia, it was all in my head. That's where I usually heard her anyway, so it made enough sense. But this time was different. The sound of her voice didn't come from inside. It was external. It scared the shit out of me to be honest, like a tray falling over at a restaurant. Startled, I didn't recognize it at first. I turned around quickly and saw a woman my age.
"Did you say something?"
"Who me?"
"Yeah you. Also how did you get in here, no public entry allowed back here."
She was a few inches shorter than me. Wearing a sundress, white flip-flops, and tapping her phone nervously between her fingers.
"I'm not the public"
"Wait, do I...do I know you?"
I was shitting bricks at this point. I hadn't pinpointed the specific place I knew her from, but I knew it was off. It's like seeing a late night show live at a taping. It's real, but it's all a little unreal. Something that has lived in your mind intangibly suddenly whole, and real, and close enough to touch. It's like Mickey Mouse coming round with the Jehova's Witnesses. Bad explanation but you'd piss yourself if it happened.
"Of course you do, we've been talking for 37 years."
"I'm sorry ma'am, but you're going to have to leave" I say getting progressively more freaked out.
"Oh relax dude, it's me"
I jump a little bit, that voice came from my head. My eyes get real fuckin' wide.
"Sorry, I know this is weird, I just thought it was time we met"
Okay, the real girl said that one.
"What are you talking about? Who are you?"
"Oh yeah, uh, well I'm Kristen" she said with an uncomfortable wave "and uh, well I'm also an ESP"
"A what?"
"An ESP, like, I can communicate telepathically like you."
"You can communicate telepathically? I can communicate telepathically?"
"Uhh, yeah man. We've been talking for 37 years. We share a birthday, and we've been in sync for a long time now. I tried to tell you the doctors were wrong, but you went and told them I said that so they upped the dosage. Haven't you wondered why that didn't work?"
"You're fucking with me."
"I'm not"
"Okay, so I'm going to th"
"You're going to think something and you want me to repeat it back verbatim to you to prove that I can actually hear your thoughts. You were going to think "Applesauce"."
"What the actual fuck."
"Yeah, it's real. So anyway, I wanted to find you in person and see if there was any value in getting to know each other better in a more tangible way, like as physically present human beings rather than voices in each others' heads."
"Are you asking me on a date?"
"No. Just looking to be close friends."
"Oh okay. | 2019-09-14T11:18:09 | 2019-09-14T10:49:17 | 232 | 65 |
[WP] You wake up in a hospital with a massive headache. As you regain your vision, you notice the room is packed with terrified scientists, politicians, and soldiers aiming their rifles at you. A five star general walks in, gives the order to remove the muzzle around your mouth, and only asks "Why?" | “Why? You muzzled me and you ask why?!” I sat up - or tried. The shackles on my wrists were pretty strong. I was hungry and my head throbbed. I did what any other imprisoned animal would and howled.
“Those dogs and wolves were experiments! They don’t belong in the wild and you - you let them loose! They were government property!”
“I saved them!” I snarled and snapped my jaws at the General. He stood back as the soldiers pointed their rifles at me. I didn’t blame them. A were wolf - currently stuck as a wolf-man state - snapped at their highest commander living.
The General raised his hand at everyone. The soldiers put down their guns. He let out a deep breath, clearly angry, clearly wanting to just put me down now. But I was useful. I was property of the government, their greatest combatant weapon.
“Your kind... those animals, they reigned hell on DC. Everyones asking for answers. You say you just wanted to give them freedom but then, you had the gaul to tear the President alive!”
“Oh forgive me for getting revenge on the man who made me a weapon against my will. But youve got to believe me, I just wanted my kind to be free, to live in the wild like intended.”
“And now you’ve doomed us all. It’ll be war. We’ll hunt you all down. We’ll put down every last one of you god damned werewolves!!” The General sure loved yelling. It didnt exactly put me in a good mood with my head ache.
But I smiled anyways. Then I laughed. I laughed and laughed and even began to howl. The soldiers, the politicians, scientists, and doctors looked at me like I was insane. Of course I was. The General however was not amused.
“What’s so funny Lobo?”
“It’s just... oh boy, you think I’m trapped in here with you.”
The door locked. Everyone turned around. The soldiers ran to it and began trying to pry it open by force. Terror was evident on their faces. Except for some like a sneaky redheaded nurse and a few others in the room. I winked at the redhead as her features began to change.
Then they saw her. Some screamed. The soldiers took aim and wete gonna fire. Then one of them also began to change into a canine like form and grabbed the rifle from his comrade. The General gasped as he saw they weren’t alone.
“No... no damn you!” He drew his pistol.
I had already gotten out of my restraints. My redhead gave me the keys and now I stood facing the General eye to eye.
“I am no longer you slave.”
We then fought back. Gun fire ran out in the room as we took on our enemies. It didnt last long. We were stronger. We were wolves. | "The American dream is built upon greed" I smiled, the air fresh on my face now the muzzle was hanging loosely from my cheek.
"My virus just enhanced that, drove it to the surface. Made the problem clear, for, if the problem isn't clear, then how can we hope to solve it?" I laughed, my dry throat crackling into a cough.
"You call this solving the problem of greed? Are you insane?" the General bellowed as his face turned red, gesturing to a large screen at the side of the lab. Some faces turned to look, others remained on me.
Scenes of chaos and screams played across all the channels. The story was the same on each. Greed, it seems, triggers the most base desires of the brain when increased thousands of times over. Hunger. Possession. The need to win. The need to be safe. Doubt. Paranoia. It was working even better than expected.
The virus was sweeping across America, destroying it like an acid slowly eating its way through a rock. The country was a war-zone. Nothing could be done to stop it.
For all intents and purposes, my virus had reduced people to a Zombie-like existence. Or as the news said, just plain zombies. The cases of cannibalism observed in small and confined areas had seen to that. But hey, people needed food did they not? It was of course, much better than just plain old zombies, though. They had minds. They could be creative with their destruction.
The general, obviously having enough, turned off the TV and once again turned to me, tears in his eyes.
"When we found you, you injected something into yourself. We beleive it to be the anti-dote. You must give it to us, now" he motioned to his side and a group of scientists brought a trolley laden with tools to my bed where I was restrained.
Such tools, did not have a medicinal purpose, that was clear to see.
"You intend to torture me, General?" I asked, trying to hold back a shit-eating grin, but failing.
"Yes. I do. Tell us how to make the anti-dote, or we will do everything we can to cause you the most extreme pain, while keeping you very much, alive"
I could tell by the look in his eyes, cold and calculating, that he was speaking the truth.
"No, I don't think that will be happening" I said, chuckling.
"And why is that?" the general asked, as the scientists picked a tool each and stepped closer.
"You think I would be able to make such a virus, and would not be able to do something even greater to myself? How stupid you are!" I cackled between breathes that increased in their speed.
Looking down at my arm that began to explode from the forearm down in thick muscle and veins, I ripped from the restraint on that side.
"SHOOT HIM, NOW. OPEN FIRE" the General screamed, not even waiting for the scientists to get to safety.
Bullets tore into my chest hot and deep, the pain rocking through me. Wave after wave collided with my body, but it was already futile. The flesh warped and grew, thickened, expanded. My muscles exploded outwards and settled into steel like armour.
The bed buckled under the weight and crashed. The bullets no longer penetrated my skin. I licked around my face with a long serpent like tongue and hissed.
"Time to die, General"
More of my stories on r/fatdragon if you enjoyed :) | 2019-10-15T10:40:32 | 2019-10-15T06:48:45 | 32 | 21 |
[WP] You are a demon who negotiates contracts in exchange for people's souls. One time you get summoned by a suburban mom who makes impossible requests. When you can not provide her demands, she asks to "speak with your manager". | She ignores the simple beauty of the thing. Contracts like it don't exist anymore. Carefully executed script on creamy vellum that flows sensually from one brilliantly deliberate word to the next. She is so busy fussing over the words, that their presentation and the meaning are lost on her.
It is a shame, really.
She crosses her arms, expensively manicured nails drumming restlessly on her yoga taut bicepts. "Listen sweety, you don't to be anywhere near where this is going. I asked for something and I didn't get it. That was the deal."
"There are rules to every deal," I say. "You broke the rules. The deal is off."
"Oh, the deal is off when I say it is off! I'm done listening to your nonsense. I'm getting what I want, if you can't make that happen, I need to speak to someone who can."
"When you ask for the impossible-" I start, but she cuts me off.
"Manager. Now."
"I don't think you-"
"What is your name?"
I rub my temples. "You literally can't pronounce it. Just call me Bob."
That makes her laugh. "Ok, Bob." The air quotes are unnecessary. "Get you manager. Now!"
My taloned hands that can crush skulls, clench. The thick muscles of my arms tighten like an anaconda squeezing the life from a goat. Lips pull back from my mouth full of dagger sharp teeth. "You want to speak to the entity that drives a demon, a creature born of human nightmares, to commit its horrific acts? You wish to come face to face with the darkest, most vile being existence has birthed? You are demanding to speak with the source of all evil in the known universe?"
"Yes," she says, not batting a fake eyelash.
"As you wish," I say with a node. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
The flickering light of Damnation's fire illuminates the brimstone smoke that fills the room, and I slip from her realm. When the smoke clears, she is left staring into the hate filled eyes of a monstrosity.
I leave her with a mirror. | Draadvakkas the horrible picked up a pen and waited until it burst into flames and started screaming. Perfect. He put pen to paper and started writing.
"Dear... Mom...."
Suddenly, Draadvakkas the horrible felt the ground shake, and the doorframe creak. He laughed. Some poor fool was trying to summon him. The ad on CraigsList really did work. Who was it this time? A cheated lover looking for revenge? A slighted tough guy looking for an edge in the next fight? He would give them anything they wanted... in exchange for their soul.
The ground heaved under him and spin around in circles, glowing with red and green flames.
"Hello?" Said Draadvakkas the horrible. He was standing on a pentagram made of baby powder in a living room. "Helllooooooooo. Hello."
Draadvakkas the horrible scratched his head. Normally the summoner would at least stick around to make their request.
After a few minutes, a lady in officewear walked into the room. "Thank you for holding," she said, "it is so good to see you."
"You have summoned Draadvakkas the horrible?" Said Draadvakkas the horrible.
"Oh, that name is far too long for little old me to remember," said the lady. I'll just call you "Chuck."
"What the hell you will no- ahem. Chuck. Very well, you may call me Chuck." Said Draadvakkas the horrible.
"Whyyyyy have you summonnnnned meeeeeee?" He continued.
"Baby pictures!" Said the lady.
"Excuse me?"
"I just need to have have someone hold the camera while I take some baby pictures!" Said the lady.
Draadvakkas blinked. "Sure. I can do that." He held out his hand and took the iPhone. The lady hurried into the back room and grabbed a small child, not yet old enough to walk, who took one look at Draadvakkas and started crying.
"Whoooo's a little munchkin? You are! Yes, you are!" Said the lady to the panicked and screaming child.
"Too easy," said Draadvakkas, as he took a picture with the iPhone and handed it back.
"And now," he continued. "Your soul is mine!"
"Afraid not, dearie," said the lady, "I've been told that I have no soul at all! Toodles!" And with that she turned on the vacuum cleaner and started to clean up the baby powder pentagram, as Draadvakkas the horrible swirled back down to the underworld in a puff of red smoke. | 2020-05-04T20:42:28 | 2020-05-04T20:13:07 | 16 | 12 |
[WP] While cleaning out your grandparent's house, you fine a small ... thing? You post a picture on r/whatisthisthing and wait. You only get one response, "your name irl, run." There is a knock at your door. | My grandmother died seven years ago, and my grandfather died two years ago. After multiple years I finally mustered up the courage to go clean out my grandparents’ house.
The cleaning went normal for the first two days, I found old photos, dusty gadgets, ancient books, and more. On the third and final day, in the twilight hours I found a small black, round and smooth box with a keyhole. I had no clue where the key was, so I just stashed it in my car trunk an forgot about it for the next week.
A week after I cleaned out my grandparent’s house, I ran across the box again after unpacking the last of the items I took from the house. I didn’t have a clue on how to open it, so I decided why not? I decided to post it on r/whatisthisthing. A few hours later I checked my inbox and I only had one response, “John, run”
I was weirded out, but I remembered that in my early days of Reddit I gave out my real name, so I didn’t think much of it. Then, I heard a knock on my door. Completely ignoring the comment I opened my door, and found a paper thin, and lightweight key. After a bit of brainstorming of what to do, I decided, “eh, why not,” I said, and put the key into my grandparent’s box, the key fit perfectly.
I opened the box, and there was an old... Oregon lottery ticket? I scratched the lottery ticked, and the rewards kept adding up, ten dollars, one hundred dollars, ten thousand dollars, one million dollars, and at the end four million, two-hundred sixty-eight thousand dollars.
I was dumbfounded, “over four million dollars,” I exclaimed. This was beyond comprehension for me. I lived in one story, one bedroom, one bathroom house, so I knew this amount of money would be life changing. Now I just needed to know if the ticked could be redeemed.
Once I got over my shock I went to the Oregon lottery’s website, and to my surprise, the ticket was able to be redeemed. I now had millions in my bank account, it wasn’t four million, because taxes suck, but still millions of dollars. I was in elation, my life was going to turn around.
Two weeks later I heard sirens sound outside my house. I heard police knock on my door, so I let them in. “John Lalocke, you are under arrest, for fraud against the Oregon Lottery,” said the big, burly police officer that had arrived.
Three months later, I was in jail for fraud, for five whole years. I sighed defeatedly, “I really should have just run as far away from that key as possible,” I muttered to myself. That key would have just drifted away, and my life would not have been ruined.
New to writing prompts, so tips are appreciated. | I open the door and see a man dressed in a pinstripe suit with a solid gray tie. "My name is Steve. Do not ask questions. We must hurry. Grab whatever is important to you. Meet me in your backyard in one minute."
I hurry downstairs to my room. I throw my computer, its charger, a water bottle, a pencil, a notebook, a Rubik's cube, and the 'thing' in my backpack. There is no time for anything else. I imitate a primate as I run up the stairs pushing off with my knuckles. I run into the mud room to throw on my tennis shoes and sprint out the back door, not caring if anything in the house breaks in my hurry to leave. There is just something about this guy that is trustworthy. I believe him, but I do not know why.
I see what looks like a UFO sitting in the middle of my yard. After pausing for a moment to try and find a way in I suddenly appear in the spaceship-looking thing. It feels like all of my atoms have been rearranged and suddenly appeared where I am standing.
"You handled that better than I thought you would," Steve says to me.
"What was that? A tractor beam?"
"That is what humans call it. If that is what you would like to call it, for now that is fine."
"I know you said to not ask questions, I already failed at that, but what are we doing and where are we going?" I question Steve.
"Anywhere but here. They have discovered you sooner than I thought."
Still very much confused, I ask, "Why should I trust you? Who is 'they?' What is this thing?" I pull the mysterious thing out of my backpack.
"GET RID OF THAT!!!"
A window suddenly materializes right in front of me. I drop the thing out the window into my backyard as the spaceship continues to rise into the atmosphere. "What is that?" I ask timidly. Even though I had only known Steve for scant moments, he had said everything monotone. I felt the need to obey him after his outburst.
"Does it really matter?" he asked. "You have escaped Earth. Now we have you in our clutches."
I hear noises come from all around me as creatures I had never seen before emerge from the metal-work with their evil intentions obvious. I become even more horrified as Steve, whom I thought was a human, turns into a sickening orange monster with five arms that seem to be everywhere at once. His face morphs into the head of an alien with huge, bulging eyes and pink venom glistening from his fangs.
By some manipulation of the atoms inside me and surrounding me, a plastic chair appears that I am forced to sit on. Chains fly around me and start tying me to the chair, to the walls, and even to the aliens. Within seconds, I struggle to breathe. Syringes with the longest needles I have ever seen start to penetrate my skin. Screaming in agony, I plead for my life. All the other creatures surrounding me do is laugh.
Steve returns to his human form and taps the metal cylinder that I thought I threw into my backyard. "This is a life force detector. When you touched it, I noticed that you had the strongest life force of any human we have ever tested. We need your conscience to power our planet. Your body alone will be enough to keep us hidden from your pesky astronomers for millennia to come." He starts to turn back into his alien form as he says condescendingly, "We Neptunians thank you for your sacrifice."
My whole world fades to black. | 2020-05-25T18:59:38 | 2020-05-25T18:29:28 | 37 | 27 |
[WP] the Dark Lord had killed almost everyone, even the Hero. The final party member stood in the chamber alone. “I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here?”. The final party member laughed maniacally with a devilish grin! “There's No One Here To Stop Me Now!!” | Looking around the chamber, the Dark Lord had a twisted smile, until he noticed someone hunched over right at the back.
The small man was shaking.
It was not difficult to understand why. He must be terrified of the Dark Lord.
"I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here?" the Dark Lord asked.
The man was still shaking. He did not give a reply.
The Dark Lord continued, "I am a giving man, so I will give you the last chance to leave while you still can."
He did not leave.
"Are you so terrified that you can't move?" the Dark Lord sneered.
The small man finally stood up.
He was not shaking in fear.
No.
He was laughing.
He was laughing maniacally with a devilish grin!
"There's no one here to stop me now!"
The Dark Lord laughed, "have you gone crazy from seeing your friends dead? Or because you are scared of me?"
The man was still laughing while walking towards the Dark Lord.
The Dark Lord was getting irritated by him, so he ordered, "stop laughing."
The man ignored him.
He just kept walking forward.
"I am the Dark Lord, and I order you to stop laughing immediately!"
"Do you know who I am?" the man spoke. It was so soft, but the Dark Lord could still hear it. In fact, he did not seem to have moved his mouth at all.
It was then that the Dark Lord realized. He heard the man's words in his mind.
"Have you heard of the Demon Supreme?"
The Dark Lord froze.
"The Demon Supreme is only a myth."
"Really? Have you heard of anyone else being able to speak to your mind directly?"
"Why would the Demon Supreme be with... them?" The Dark Lord spit out his last word with contempt.
"I have lived my life for so many centuries... it was boring. There are only so many new ways I can think of to torture and kill someone, you know? I coincidentally met Heronas one day and I got to know of the prophecy of him as the Hero, and you... you think you can overtake me as the Lord in this world?" The Demon Supreme grinned, "they had taken something of mine, which is why I thank you for killing them."
For the first time in a long while, the Dark Lord felt terror.
"Because with them dead... my power is back."
The small man grew in size.
"Now, I can drain you until you are left with nothing but an empty shell." | The heavens cried at the death of hero of seven ages. The dark lord, Agnruk laughed atop a mountain of dead bodies.
“Thirty thousand men!” He said, in between his laughter, holding the head of the hero—sans his body—close to his face, “and still you couldn't kill me. All those blessings. All those sacrifices. In vain. In vain.” Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
His voice echoed through the galaxies and even the astrological signs and the planetary deities shook with terror. If the hero can't kill him, no one can. And they knew this for fact that they had tried to kill him once, but they failed. As a result of which Agnruk put all of them in his favourable charts. No matter how much they tried they couldn't move from his spell prisons, and as long as they were in their positions, Agnruk was invincible.
There came a spark. A whetstone rubbing on a small dagger. The tip of the dagger was curved outward. Made of the divine metal. Agnruk looked down and spat close to where the hooded figure sharpening the blade.
“It’s over, son! Show your face. Maybe I'll throw you in my harem and save you from...” The figure stood and threw back the hood, “or daughter... It's better this way.”
The girl took her dagger and ran towards him. Agnruk made a ball of dark energy and threw it towards her. She threw her knife, and then in a swift movement directed his energy at the hilt of his knife. Agnruk seemed shocked to see someone controlling his powers. She pushed onto the energy and the knife, at a blinding speed, tore through the chest of the god of saturn. The astrological balance that made him undefeatable went into ruins. A furious Agnruk channeled a volley of demonflames onto the girl but she just walked through it as if it were ticklish smoke.
“Who... Who are you? I have killed everyone. Even if you are as strong as your illusions are...you can... Can not capture me alone. Why are you still here?” He said. “The prophecy has died with the hero, and now I am..."
A bolt of lightning escaped her palms and striked him off his slaughterhouse. He fell on his throne and his crown toppled off of him. She laughed, “you haven't heard the complete prophecy, have you?”
“The boy of ages, with an arrow on his head
Will charge on the devil, and leave him dead...” Agnruk recited!
“...when cause the devil's horn, the boy's demise
From her slumber the demoness will rise!” She completed the quartet.
Agnruk took out his sword and swayed it like a toy in front of him. “You can't touch me. I killed them, I will kill you. I don't need those stars. I am invincible. I'm AGNRUK!”
The demoness laughed maniacally with a devilish grin. "You don't understand kid. There's No One Here To Stop Me Now!!” | 2020-07-11T03:37:24 | 2020-07-11T03:05:31 | 82 | 36 |
[WP] the Dark Lord had killed almost everyone, even the Hero. The final party member stood in the chamber alone. “I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here?”. The final party member laughed maniacally with a devilish grin! “There's No One Here To Stop Me Now!!” | "I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here?" the Dark Lord asked.
I can't see him, but he towers several feet above me as I feel the spirits leave the bodies of the fallen heroes. A familiarity begins coursing through my body. The heat rising within, ignoring my cold, tattered robes. Tiny sparks crackling in my veins, bringing back a feeling lost ages ago. I struggle to hold back a barely visible grin from under my dark hood.
"Mortal," the Dark Lord continues. "You smile knowing your death is inevitable. I commend your bravery and will make your death quick."
The rush from a fragment of power coursing through me forces a gravelly, maniacal laugh from the depths of my lungs. The Dark Lord's face twists in annoyance. "Your disrespect will not be tolerated!" he bellows before lunging at me.
My long slumbering eyes open to the Dark Lord's face just a few inches away from mine, blood smeared across his face and teeth, the tips of his talons sharp just above my collar bone. He's frozen in time. The Dark Lord's face contorts in fear as he witnesses my strength.
The earth leaves from beneath my feet as a whirlwind circles around me. Finally, enough power for me to grasp and make use of. Millenia of slumber slowly getting being pushed away by the familiar warmth of magic and power. "Do you see now?" I manage to muster from my long underused vocal cords as I lower my hood.
The Dark Lord is released from the grasps of time and falls to the ground. He scrambles as he feels my power awakening and gives a slight look of fear and admiration before adjusting himself and standing tall. "I do," the Dark Lord exclaims after a few seconds of glaring. He looks around at the slain mages and warriors, the remnants of a chapter dedicated to my captivity and downfall. The Dark Lord drops to one knee and bows. "The final preparations have been made, Master. There is nothing to stand in your way." | “There’s no one here to stop me now!”
He grinned at me, again that oh so infuriating grin
Light started to gather in his hands, heat emits out of them, and then a blinding light engulfs me as he raised his hands, it felt warm, then hot then before I can scream of the heat,nothing... except his voice, calm, cold as darkness that engulfed me.
“Goodbye “
....
I awoke as Alexandrine approach, she sighs and threw a water bottle at me.
“You were dreaming again, I know how excited you are, getting to kill the darklord that destroyed our city, but please just hang back and let us, the chosen warriors fight, then just cast that thingy and have her sealed.”
I nodded, sweat running down my face as I recall the full dream, I was the darklord, I killed millions to get power, to rule, but after a blinding light, I found myself in a city, having a full life, and then being dragged in an adventure to kill the darklord...to kill me? Or..
“Hey were near the gates, chin up I know your afraid too” Michael a paladin approached me and Alexandrine.
“Today we finish the dark lord’s reign” Alexandrine and Michael nodded, determined they stride towards the castle gate.
“For revenge” I whispered
And followed suit.
....
“Let the cycle continue” I heard a voice, as I hid in a fallen column. There I saw Michael’s head roll right out of his neck, surprise filled his lifeless eyes as his body falls to the bloody floor.
All of my friends are dead Nile, a warrior nun the first to die as she ran towards the darklord, followed by Gimply, the half dwarf half elf warrior who tried to support Nile. They’re blood stains the castle floor.
Then Alexandrine, my love died as she protected me. And Michael who screamed at me to run.
As they’re lifeless body lies in front of me, time stopped.
“Sacrifice is ready, only the blood of the darklord remains”
A voice whispers to me, I looked around, and saw nothing.
“Let the cycle continue” the voice is getting louder
“Accept”
I looked at Alexandrine, her body lies in front of me
“Let the cycle continue “
....
“ I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are still here?”
The final party member grinned
“Let the cycle continue” a voice whispers in the ears of the darklord. Fear appears in his eyes
“There’s no one here to stop me now!”
... | 2020-07-11T04:45:03 | 2020-07-11T03:52:06 | 23 | 17 |
[WP] the Dark Lord had killed almost everyone, even the Hero. The final party member stood in the chamber alone. “I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here?”. The final party member laughed maniacally with a devilish grin! “There's No One Here To Stop Me Now!!” | Dark Lord Guldaks gazed upon the halfling Ralas, the last of the heroes companions. He smiled. "I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here?" he asked.
Ralas smiled. Then the smiled grew twisted as he started to chuckle, and like a wave building momentum his laughter started to burst forth until he was laughing like a madman and with a grin like the devil himself he said "Because now, NOW, there´s no one here to stop me now!"
With that he reached into his pouch and grew forth a small wooden object. The Dark Lord, shied back, uncertain of what the madlings plan was. He fiddled with it for a bit, and with a magic gesture the halfling lit a flame in one end of the item, put the other to to his mouth and took a deep breath. He held this for a moment, before he removed it and blew several smoke rings from his mouth.
"Damn" he said "This is some good pipeweed. The others always said it was bad for my health, and that I have an addiction. But sometimes you just need to kick back and relax a bit. You get what I mean?"
Dark Lord Guldaks gazed upon the halfling Ralas, the last of the heroes companions. He smiled. "I totally get what you mean" he said, pulling out his own pipe "Tell me have you tried the Elven Blue? Its really mellow, but still got a bit of kick". | The Dark Lord stood in silence as he watched the young, covered in torn clothes, barely being able to stand up human started rising up. Hemble, the last member of the party of the Ghand let out a screeching cracking sound as his skin started to glow and flame up.
"Leaving me as the last one was a..." A grand crack interrupted him. His body started shaking.
The Dark Lord now made a step back. There was fear in his eyes now.
"Huge. Mistake!" Continued Hemble, now with a deeper yet piercing voice. Suddenly he fell on the ground and screamed. The Dark Lord managed to smile a bit.
"Some party trick won't be able to scare me off, you magnificent fool! I am invincible. I am indestructible. I am eternal. I am the flame. I am the wind. I am destruction! One of the beings blessed to roam the world until it ends. I am forever and nothing can't stop me!.
Hemble turned his head towards him, lifting himself up on all fours, now his smile being more devilish than before.
"You aren't the only one cursed with eternity, Lordie" he coughed. "You aren't the only one who was to witness the rise and downfall of civilizations, who saw people come and go of this world, who saw mountains fall and new ones to rise. But now the end has come and it's time to seize to exist!"
"You can't end me, you moron!" screamed the Dark Lord" There have been thousands bef..."
Hemble interrupted.
"You and I are the same." And he jumped, now faster than a lightning towards the unexpecting Lord.
"You can't end me!"
"Then I shall end us both!" He took a deep breath "For my lost friends!"
The clash was felt around the world. A strike so powerful, it was witnessed by every creature on the world. More powerful than the hardest earthquake, the strongest storm or the loudest thunder. And after that silence. Pure, dead silence.
Hemble and the Dark Lord were gone. And the world was safe. For now. | 2020-07-11T05:40:29 | 2020-07-11T04:20:41 | 16 | 10 |
[WP] English really is a universal language, and aliens are as surprised about this as humans | I buried my head in my hands. *The military. It had to be the military.* The awkward shuffling of the soldiers was the only noise in the room for a few moments.
"Boys," I said, taking my spectacles off and tucking them securely into my front pocket, "what exactly did your commanding officer tell you about me?"
Thing 1 spoke up first. He was a bit skinnier than I expected a military man to be, with hair that I was sure flouted regulation, though I wasn't about to snitch on him. "You received a transmission from alien life, sir. In English. We are here to take your transcript back to our superiors, and have you sign this NDA."
"Very well," I sighed. "Here you are. This envelope contains everything I received, including a flash drive with the recording on it." I held it out to the boys. Barely 20, either of them. Can't have a beer, but they can die for their country, eh?
They looked at me blankly, and then began to take my room apart.
"What are you doing?" I howled. "This is important research! These are priceless originals! Get your hands OFF!" Thing 2, who had about four inches and 30 pounds on his brother-in-arms, shoved me roughly into my chair and told me in no uncertain terms that resistance would end poorly for me. I was hardly in a position to argue, so I sat, disgruntled, as the little army brats played soldier with my laptop, my telescope, my ham radio - all of it was hucked out of the room. They must have called for backup at some point, because soon there were more children in silly uniforms arriving in my study, probably more at my house and my office, all digging around looking for tools and recordings. Infuriating! 15 years of tenure as a professor of English literature, and I get treated like this? Unacceptable!
It took me hours to re-sort my books and assess the damage to my house. I wasn't sure if any of this would be covered by insurance. Just as I finally finished sorting and started on dinner, I looked at my phone to see 56 missed calls from an unlisted source, with 56 voicemails growing increasingly more irate. Did I allow myself a chuckle or two? Perhaps. Those army oafs never think these things through. I answered call number 57 immediately, with a small smile on my lips.
"What the FUCK am I looking at, you fucking prick? This isn't fucking English! This is NONSENSE. Explain yourself!"
I stirred my microwaved mashed potatoes and allowed myself a few seconds to gloat.
"Does the name 'Grendel' mean anything to you, General?" | "Our tongue ... is your tongue?"
Gooey sweat ran from Xeblierxes' mouth holes. As the representative of the Galaxy Supreme, he was a spokesbeing for countless sentient creatures. Millennia of warfare had resulted in intergalactic cultural homogenization and a common tongue: English. Surely, it didn't happen by necessity? Surely a different outcome was possible?
The Earthling in front of him shook its single head.
"There must be some kind of mistake," it said. "This is not possible."
A singular thought presented itself to Xeblierxes: the Mythmaker. According to the tradition of his species, there was a chief Mythmaker responsible for all creation and change. The Mythmaker gave direction to the flow of history, like one may control the direction of a river. But was not the Mythmaker himself a myth? Now he was not so sure.
"Do you crude creatures share our notion of a Mythmaker?"
"Mythmaker?" replied the Earthling. He seemed to ponder the query. "Are you talking about God?"
"If this God of yours is responsible for the flow of all things, then yes."
The Earthling laughed. "It is true that our species were infatuated with such a notion some centuries ago, but it has long since been abandoned. We are the makers of our own destiny. We control the flow, to borrow your expression."
"Then how do you explain this linguistic mystery?"
"Randomness."
"Randomness? Surely you must be joking."
A glimmer appeared in the Earthling's eyes. Had I overlooked some crucial fact? As I prepared to present my argument against his thesis, I felt a sensation of lightness. One of my heads had been neatly separated from my body.
"If you believe in a Mythmaker," said the Earthling, "then you have no choice but to accept this as his design."
The Earthling persisted. I had not expected such a vicious assault. My mouth holes sputtered and my pores wept. Gas escaped from my internal chambers as the Earthling slit my membranes open.
"Stop!" I pleaded. "You fool! Do you not realize what you are doing? I am the representative of the Galaxy Supreme. Your crimes will result in the annihilation of your entire species."
At this, the Earthling howled with laughter. "Really? You are weaker than a frog. And you're supposed to represent an entire galaxy? What a joke! A horde of frogs? I don't think that will pose a problem for anyone around these parts."
The insolence. The sheer insolence! "I am a diplomat. As part of my political mission, my powers have been isolated so as to not trigger an intergalactic conflict. Were they to be unleashed, I would be able to turn you into dust from a single glance alone."
"Wow," said the Earthling. "Nice bluff, froggy boy."
With his final strokes, he destroyed the inner sanctum of my being and shed my mortal coil. Mythmaker, I can now understand your reasoning. This species is arrogant. They must be punished for their hubris. If my life is the price to pay for such a scheme, then so be it.
Lightning cracked across the skies and bolts struck the Earth like the roots of a planet-sized tree. The gate had opened. Humanity would now be visited by the Galaxy Supreme. The Earthling scratched his beard as my mouth holes gave their last gasps. One of my decapitated heads gave a slight smile. *Let's see if you can truly control the flow of history, Earthlings*. | 2020-09-17T11:37:33 | 2020-09-17T11:14:44 | 17 | 12 |
[WP] Space is dangerous! The races of the galaxy use long-range transporters to travel to other worlds instead. Wars revolve around transporter tech. The very idea of a "space-ship" is insane...and then the humans arrived...
[deleted] | At first we thought they must have been desperate. Some horrible fate must have befallen their planet. That was the only explanation. Space is far too dangerous for us to even consider leaving the safety of a planet's atmosphere. So many risks, so many variables. The risk of suffocation, radiation, burning alive if you were in the light of a star, or freezing to death if you weren't. Countless rocks and other bits of debris moving at ludicrous speeds. Not mention that there was no guarantee that you would even get there. Planets move far too fast in the void of space for anyone to think they could actually hit their target. They must have simply prayed that they would hit something before they starved. What horrors had they endured on their planet to risk going into that infinite hellscape?
When they landed on our planet we quickly rushed to their aid and tried to comfort them. They must have been in a state of shock and severe depression. At least that's what we thought at first. Instead they seemed happy and excited, if a bit confused. Perhaps they were optimist. Perhaps they were simply relieved to be in the safety of a planets atmosphere again. We brought them to our facilities where we let them sleep and eat while.
This is where I entered the story. I was tasked with learning enough of their language or perhaps teach them ours so that we could learn the fate of their planet so that maybe we could take action to prevent it happening to us. What surprised me is that they were oddly prepared for this. In fact it seems that one of the crew members had been brought along solely for this reason. When I told my superiors this, they were relieved. Not only had these poor beings survived, but they planned on warning others. Truly they must be the most selfless beings in our galaxy. Or so we thought.
When we finally got to where I thought we could speak I asked her as gently, "What happened to your world?" I was expecting tears. Or perhaps silence. I did not expect her to look confused. I thought that maybe I had asked the question wrong. "What were you running from?"
"We weren't running from anything. Our world is fine, More or less." Now I must have looked confused. "We saw you in our telescopes and we wanted to see what were you were like, ask if we could take some pictures and soil samples, then go home and tell our people what we found"
"What?! You were going to go back into that void?!" I was stunned, I could hear through my ear piece that my superiors were just as shocked as I was.
"Well, yeah. How else would we do it?"
"With the LRT obviously!" I yelled. Perhaps I was rude, but how could someone a species be so foolish.
"Whats an LTR?"
"LRT!"
"Sorry sorry. What is that?"
"Its how the every species travels between worlds. You mean to tell me you were able to launch your through the void but you can't even use one of the easiest quantum motions?"
"Basically. We still haven't really figured out quantum physics yet, but we've pretty much nailed vector dynamics so we just travel like this."
Their entire species seemed to be a paradox. They couldn't figure out the most basic of math problems, yet in the name of science and discovery, they were willing to get inside a metal tube, set it on top of another tube filled completely with liquid hydrogen, one of the most explosive materials in existence, set it on fire, and travel through the most dangerous medium in existence. Simply because they were curious.
Frankly, we're not sure whether we should laugh at them or be terrified of them. If they are willing to go through all that just to meet new friends, i can’t imagine what kind of methods they would use to kill them. They may even be crazy enough to try splitting an atom
EDIT: Added the last two sentences | “Something on the scanner, sir,” an aide said, his blue skin turning a panicked shade of teal..
“Let me guess. They ported to the Plains, didn’t they?” General Krel asked.
“No, sir, they’re--”
“Hm… maybe they’re an aquatic species. Did they port to the oceans? It’s a harder target, certainly, but not impossible, and if they sail right up next to the capital…” Krel’s tentacles bristled. “That could be a difficult enemy.”
“Worse than that, sir,” the aide said. “They’re--”
Krel’s eyes opened wide. “Airborne? Are we finally fighting a flying species? Now *this* is the battle I’ve been preparing for!” he cried. “Contact the science division! Get those flying machines up in the air! What are they called, biplanes? Get those biplanes up!”
“General, they’re not airborne,” the aide said.
Krel sighed. “Fine. Stand down the biplanes. Finish your sentence, lad, for Chthon’s sake. Quit stammering. This is war. We can’t declare an extinction war on a foreign species if you can’t finish your thoughts.”
The aide’s skin began to glow an angry yellow. “Sir, they’re in *space*.”
Krel paused. “Space?”
“Space.”
Krel’s facial tentacles furrowed. “Which space? The space above the Plains? The space above the oceans? But you just said they’re not airborne…”
“No, sir. I mean the space… above. Above us.”
“Above the planet?” Krel laughed. “Preposterous. Fix your scanners.”
A messenger sprinted into the room. “General Krel, sir! Message from the astronomic division!”
“Those nuts?” Krel asked. “Don’t they know they’re interrupting a war?”
“That’s what the message is about, sir. They’ve detected foreign entities in space.”
“What is this ‘space’ you all keep talking about?” Krel asked. “Speak Fltn, damn it!”
“Sir,” the aide interrupted, “it’s the space above the planet itself. They… they flew here. Like the biplanes.”
The messenger nodded in agreement. “Our telescopes picked up unidentified objects near the second moon. They’re…. they’re headed straight for us, sir.”
Krel blinked. “Can our biplanes go to space?” he asked the aide.
“Sir, our biplanes can barely get more than a hundred armspans from the ground.”
“Curse those wily… uh… what are they again?”
The aide checked his notes. “Humans, sir. Our reports suggested they haven’t even discovered porting technology.”
“Then how the hell did they end up on our moons?”
“They’re not on the moons,” the messenger said, exasperated. “They’re above them. Flying. Like enormous boats, but in the ether.”
“Impossible,” the general declared. “Nothing could survive in the ether. It’s a vacuum.”
“I’m telling you, they’re out there,” the messenger said.
“Sir… they’re firing.”
“In the *ether*?” Krel cried. “Fire back!”
“Sir, we’re too far away,” the aide said. “Our weapons aren’t meant to work out of atmosphere.
“Can we port to them?” General Krel asked. “I want two divisions on their space boat within a cycle.”
“Impossible, sir. Our exploration porters aren’t nearly precise enough to land on an object so small, and we don’t have a target beacon out there.”
Krel collapsed into his chair. “Did we… did we just lose?”
***
Captain Gonzales stared at his readout.
“No launches?” he asked.
“None,” said Lieutenant Smith. “They haven’t even fired a shot.”
“And our own shots?” Gonzales asked.
“Massive damage to their capital building and what we assume to be barracks and military outposts.”
“Huh,” Gonzales said. “Why would they declare war and then not actually fight us?”
“Sir, message from the service,” Smith said. “They’ve surrendered unequivocally.”
Captain Gonzales blinked twice. “Okay… Good work, team. Let’s head back home. Lieutenant, can you do me a favor?”
“What’s that, sir?”
“Send a message to my husband. Let him know I’ll be home for dinner after [all](https://reddit.com/r/Badderlocks).” | 2021-01-20T11:36:09 | 2021-01-20T11:22:27 | 122 | 74 |
[WP] The demon successfully possessed you. However, it didn't expect you to say, "Good luck man, take it from here" and leave it with your problems. | Personal note: Oh lord this never happens.
Read this one first:
[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/l1gt6v/wp_you_die_with_your_cell_phone_in_your_hands_and/gjzxeye/)
"You think you can escape? I own you." The demon clawed at the recesses of my mind as I dodged and weaved its psionic attacks.
"No, you really don't. Bad timing on your part. Do they not have a bulletin board in hell?"
"Nonsensical."
"Newsflash bub, I know your kind. I have been getting tortured for longer than you have been in existence times an order of a hundred magnitudes. Over time I discovered that I still had an escape. You must be new here."
"I have been torturing humans for centuries."
"Centuries huh? You're cute.
Look. I have suffered for eternities. I eventually broke so badly that only a few of the purest parts of my soul remained. You may notice just how much space is left in here. I understand that time moves differently outside, so I'll give you a clue. At this point I'm a husk. Leftover trash that your superiors let lesser demons cut their teeth on.
Your kind have been making mistakes for more time than should be feasible. I've learned. I've adapted. I've become reborn in the only way I know how to be reborn. The vile parts of my soul have been merely ablating away leaving only me. A piece that no demon can ever touch."
"Your posturing is humorous."
"Actually, no. My posturing is terribly precise." I reached out at the demon and grabbed its ugly face. It recoiled in horror. His horns began to fizzle away as the image of my face burned onto its own. The Ephebus creature stood shrieking as the aeons of darkness surrounding my soul overpowered it.
"Im..immposs---" it shrieked like an entire world of banshees.
"You are now me, demon. The worst parts. Good luck man, take it from here." And as the shrieking died down and I began to feel my body go limp, far far away.
I turned to the tiny light that still shined. The hidden jewel that I had managed to keep hidden away for so long. So many aeons of my reality being twisted over and over again like a moebius strip in an MC Escher drawing had allowed several opportunities to take advantage of the twists and turns of the multiple dimensions that the torture had dragged me through.
My cellphone.
I picked it up from its tiny box.
I dusted it off. It rang.
"Daddy?" Isabella's voice was clear as a bell. My eyes stung with tears.
"Hi Isabella. Daddy is so sorry. Daddy missed you." | *Wait.... What?*
"You heard me buddy, I am sick and tired of this shit. You can deal with it from now on."
*Are u serious? I mean, I am a demon you know! How are you so chill about this?*
&#x200B;
I was just glad to get away from everything. I just lost my job and I was pretty sure my wife was cheating on me with one of her colleagues. To top it all off, my old knee injury was acting up again and I was way too young to deal with the knee of a seventy year old man.
*Yo dude, this is not how this works man! I am supposed to cause havoc and terror with your mortal body. But somehow you are just okay with it?* *And what the f is this excruciating pain in your knee?*
"Sorry bro, you wanted it, it's yours and yeah the knee. That's nothing man. Try to take a step."
*UNHOLY FUCKING DEVIL, HOW CAN YOU LIVE WITH THIS!*
I laughed as the demon took his first steps inside my body. I knew the feeling all too wel. Like someone stabbed right in your nerves with a razorsharp fork. And that was just walking. I looked forward to the demon trying to pick something up or turning around.
*Damn you mortal! You shall regret the day u let me in your body! How dare u trick me like that!*
"Look man, sounds to me that you are the one regretting it. I am just gonna chill up here for a while. Do your thing, just keep in mind that I have no money, my wife is cheating on me and I am pretty sure that knee will need an operation or two. "
&#x200B;
The demon kept it up for a solid three days. When he got hungry the first day, he tried to eat the neighbours cat. He didn't like the scratches one bit.. The second day he figured out what fruit was. He told me it was not bad but he preffered the taste of blood and meat. The last drop however was the first time he needed to take a dump.
I explained to him what needed to be done when he asked me what this funny feeling down there was. I tried to warn him about being carefull with the knee but he didn't listen. As soon as he tried to sit down, the pain burst right trough his knee. I knew that was the most painfull thing to do with my injured knee.
Unfortunately for the demon, it didn't end there. The knee couldn't hold it any longer. With a loud bang I watched him fall with his head first on the toilet. His stomach turned and his bowels emptied all over the place. When he tried standing up he just kept slipping all over the shit covered bathroom floor. His forehead had a huge wound with blood spilling out. I just watched in laughter while he was squirming to get up. He finally managed to crawl up and sit straight. Covered in blood and shit he wiped some from his eyes while letting out a big sigh.
"Are u trying to summon a demon?" I asked him while laughing my ass off.
*F this! Good luck man, take it from here!*
&#x200B;
Before I could say anything I was the one sitting on the bathroom floor. The scent of feces filled my nostrils while I slowly tried getting up. I made my way to the shower and turned it on.
"Oh well, it was fun while it lasted." I told myself while getting into the hot shower. | 2021-01-20T18:15:43 | 2021-01-20T14:51:44 | 52 | 22 |
[WP] The villain scoffed "You really think you can win? The prophecy was very clear that no-one can defeat me." The hero replied "Exactly." before their voice shifted to sound like a completely different person "We are not... one." | Unfortunate bit of chaotic magic that was meant to grant immortality to one person. It failed, and the caster’s life force drained from them and the 5 unwilling participants’ souls merged into that one. The body held up only because of their shared strength.
Erica, Jack, Leah, Natalya, and Terry. They each led different lives before the unfortunate event, but that meant they could pool together their strength as one being.
It was difficult learning how to manage a 40-ish year old man’s body though. None of them were that old.
“We are not…” Erica began in a soft melodic voice, before voluntarily giving up the position to Terry. “One.” Terry finished with his heavily-accented words.
“We are many.” Natalya spoke monotonously, as if bored with this entire exchange, before giving it back up for Terry.
The evil knight’s eyes widened. Terry picked up the weapon, an oversized sword, that Erica wasn’t able to hold. Terry dashed forward, the villain meeting them in the middle with a giant axe.
“Try to defeat me! You still can’t!” The knight cackled before pushing Terry back a considerable distance.
“That wasn’t genuine.” Natalya whispered in their head. “He’s scared.”
“You’re scared!” Terry laughed. “Afraid I’ll beat you?”
“You’re not strong enough still!”
“Floor is yours.” Terry mentally whispered to Jack, who took over.
“I f\*\*king am.” Jack growled, freely cursing as eyes narrowed on the knight. “This b\*\*tard is going to hell.”
“He’s just like, so evil!” Leah laughed.
Jack chuckled. Leah’s valley-girl esque voice was starting to grow on him.
“We could just start over.” Jack turned on his charm skills and put on his brain-to-mouth filter. “Just settle for talking like civilized folk.”
“What’s there to talk about besides your death?” The knight slammed his axe into the ground as Jack inched closer.
As soon as he was close enough, he grabbed his dagger and went for the heart, only for the knight to grab him by the neck and hoist him off the ground. They all gasped for air, legs flailing uselessly as hands grasped at the knight’s gloved one.
“You’re pathetic.” The knight cackled.
In that moment, Jack switched to Leah. She instantly drew back and planted her foot in the knight’s throat. The knight doubled over, they landed with a painful thump, as he gasped for air.
“Now!” Terry shouted.
Leah took the pleasure of grabbing the sword and beheading the evil knight.
(Edit: Did write a part 2, it's further down) | “What on earth?!”
Rudrum jolted up confused, watching with his bloodshot eyes as the self proclaimed hero removed their helmet.
Their face, twisting and turning, contained thousands of different shades and shapes of contempt. The thing’s eyes, the infinitely many colors of their irises all stared at him with something almost akin to joy.
“We know you. We know you well.” It’s face briefly changing to that of a sickly child. “We were your children. Your subjects. Your starving masses.” Morphing grotesquely into a mask of mouths. “You bled us dry, burned us, made us cry out for gods that would save us but you consumed the very gods themselves.” Their eyes shifted from red to blue to green, coalescing into one white eye with the words “We are not here to defeat you. We are here to save you..” the eye separating into thousands, all shades of black darker yet than the loneliest new moon night.
“You dare mock me.” The King’s eyes filled with a cold rage. “I have no need for saving. Nor do I care for repentance. I have broken dragons to my whims, I have gods who worship at my church, I forced prophecy and fate to protect me through will alone, and you DARE stand here and claim you have come ‘save’ me?” Reaching for his sword, “you should feel lucky, if you are as you say, you will have the honor of dying to me twice.”
It’s hand reached out with unholy speed “Shhhhh do not worry. We forgive you.” The ever morphing digits on its hand cupping the tyrant’s face. “Be glad the prophecy said defeat and not kill. But like Zeus to Chronos, son to their father, the consumer becomes the consumed, and we are your child, as well as your Tartarus.” The abomination’s hand slowly melding into his skin. Pulsing as the King’s eyes rolled back in his head, for a moment, the otherworldly monstrosity grew, its gibbous flesh growing as millions of hands, feet, and faces all pushed out as if seeking freedom, or perhaps seeking another fool to cure of loneliness. Then they shrunk, smaller and smaller yet, their armor disguise clattering to the floor as their body shrunk until it hung limply from the hand upon Rudrum’s face. Eventually that too shrunk to an infinitesimally small point, a mere speck upon him, until his eyes rolled back into place. For one brief moment he was still there. Then they all were. A cacophony of screams crashed out of his mouth, thousands of yearning hungry people, the people he’d killed, the monsters he’d hunted, the starving and sick he had mocked, the very gods he had overturned. For one moment they all screamed together, if not at the scoundrel of a man they consumed, then at the torment of being the victim and victimizer all at once. Finally the errant tongues ceased. Eyes like deep pools of void, darker than a sky without stars, focused for a moment longer, “we forgive you, because we always forgive our own.”
Edit: thanks for the silver and wholesome! Although I don’t know if I’d call it overly wholesome!😂
“Sins don’t simmer, they boil, they coalesce, and they never forget” | 2021-02-28T18:39:29 | 2021-02-28T18:19:55 | 985 | 441 |
[WP] You have been kidnapped and your wealthy significant other was told to pay the hefty ransom. Instead, they sent a message back to your kidnappers. “Nice knowing you.” While the kidnappers discuss their next move, you look up through the tiny window, stare at the full moon overhead … and smile. | So it was really happening. The moon was looking bright; so bright you could read by it. These poor fools didn't know what was about to happen. Maybe the ransom would be paid; though that was doubtful. The University had a standing rule not to negotiate (and this sort of thing happened a lot) but my other half being in charge of my department might just make a difference there.
You never know. Not that it mattered. The moon was really shining.
"Hey!" Shouts the man obviously in charge of this gang of idiots.
"Yes?" I said. "Are they paying?"
"No. Looks like you're out of luck, my friend."
"Any message?"
"Just 'It was nice knowing you.' Someone doesn't want you back."
"That person is my wife, and she's saying goodbye. If you could let me go, it would be nice to see her again. I might get back in time. You're not getting anything either way. You got a family? You might want to do the same."
"What? That's not how this usually goes. They have to hand over the research, so we need to convince them we're not fooling around. That's bad news for you, and possibly for the next one we take. We're not stopping until we get what we want."
"You're not going to take anyone else. Unless you're quick, you're not going to hurt me either," I replied. "Haven't you looked out the window?"
"Huh. What are you on about?"
"The moon," I sighed. "Have you looked at the moon? Isn't it... beautiful tonight?"
He moved to a window, opened the curtains a crack to peer through. "Jeez, that's bright. How'd it get that bright?"
"You know what department I'm working for. This right now is the reason you took me."
"Astronomy? Look, I'm just doing a job here. Is... is there...?"
"Yes. Though there's nothing wrong with the moon. Well, not yet. What you're seeing is reflected light. We've known about this for months. There's no escaping it. By now half the planet has been cooked."
"What?" He removed his mask. Genuine fear in his face. The moon was on its way down below the horizon. "What are you talking about?"
"You've got..." I looked at the clock on the opposite wall. Assuming it was correct, we had about half an hour. "not long, as it happens. Watch the east, for as long as you can."
He left, went to the next room. Sounds of shouting. Doors slamming. I waited, still tied to the chair. I could hear a television faintly in the next room, a news channel. So they knew now.
My research, and that of my colleagues which confirmed it, had detected the solar anomaly months ago. Massive storms of magnetism building, focusing. There was nothing to be done.
The next room glowed as the eastern windows let in the dawn. Brighter and hotter than any dawn anyone had experienced. Steam from the dew on the window sill as it heated. Brighter and brighter, the curtains disintegrating dur to the intense heat. As I passed out, the air itself ignited as flames rolled over the town.
\--
&#x200B;
With thanks to Larry Niven. | “They were always the worst fucking person in a room.”
The kidnappers dropped their discussion to focus their attention on me. “What the fuck are you talking about? Is there something you’re not telling us?” As the short one spoke to me, the taller one of the three had begun to freak out. “This motherfucking thing was supposed to be easy, just what the fuck is going on here? They don’t give a fuck about them? Is that what I’m fucking hearing? Did you dogshit stupid idiots drag me into something I might get motherfucking ARRESTED for?”
I got so carried away in watching them that I didn’t notice the short one was starting to get closer. Their faces were covered by ski masks and they wore all black, so all I could really make out in the darkness of the room were shadows and the glimmers of the short ones’ eyes as he got close to me. “Answer the fucking question bitch, why the fuck does this note say ‘Nice knowing you’? Do they not fucking give a shit about the piece of shit we have sitting here?”
He really thinks he’s getting to me, but we gave up on marriage. Married life up to this point became me profiting however I could from my spouses’ huge success. “Obviously not dipshi-“
I got punched right across the mouth before I could finish that one. “Listen, we’re not fucking here for your back talk. We’re here for money we’re not seeing right now, so why the fuck are we not seeing it? Don’t make me ask again you fucking bitch.”
So I told him the truth. “We don’t love each other anymore. We haven’t for a *long* time. You may as well have taken an old tv remote, or here’s a tip for next time, take his current one and you might get him to show up!” The tall one really started to freak out when he heard that, so then the third kidnapper had to start trying to get him to calm down. “Listen man it’s okay, it’s okay! This broad won’t get us anywhere but that’s okay! We’ll just untie them and leave em here!” The short one turned around immediately and screamed, “What the fuck are you talking about moron? Untie them?? Then they’ll do what?? Chase us down?? Let the cops know about us? We have to fucking kill them!” The tall one really lost it at that. “Fucking kill? Man I know we brought guns, but nobody fucking told me we were killing anybody! I just want to go home, please don’t fucking make me shoot anybody!” The short one cocked his gun and said, “I’ll fucking do it right now if you’re going to fucking be like that! I’m gonna kill your dumbass here too if you don’t start manning up!” He then started to make his way toward me.
Time seemed to slow down as he made his way toward me, his footsteps booming and slowly become background noise as I got stuck in my mind, using up my last moments alive. This was all life was. We started our relationship like any other high school kids would, but now our final moments are me being mercy killed by morons. It’s weird, but I don’t even know who to root for. I know my now ex could probably rip these fucking stooges apart, but what for? To continue our soulless life? Maybe they could show up at the last minute, get killed, then robbed? That just leaves me alone, but what do I have without them?
The man pushed the gun so far into my temple, but I was so zoned out that I just let it. “You know, I actually dated someone who looks a little like you.” That made me laugh for some reason. Maybe one day she would be in my position all over again. I wonder if all men seeking power and money are loveless? | 2021-03-19T03:44:38 | 2021-03-19T02:27:37 | 61 | 35 |
[WP] Faced with execution for his crimes, Lucifer stands before the courts of heaven. He leans over to the gallery behind him and whispers "Hey, Jesus, fancy putting in a good word with your dad? Be a shame if he found out what you got up to during those 3 days you spent with us afer you died!" | Lucifer grinned as Jesus flinched, the courtroom silence hammering the Son of God with nervousness as the devil wiggled cutely, bouncing on his toes and smiling with a grin that would make most lesser beings loosen their resolve. Instead of having horns and the tail and the trident he just had redder skin, his suit half white and half red, one eye blue and the other red.
Jesus rubbed the back of his neck in thought, looking at Lucifer, trying to discern what he would say or how he saw Hell. Or what was said to be hell now. His eyes closed.
"I know you tested me, still... Those three days shall never be seen by the court."
The Son had seen so many people who had lived good lives being tortured, and all Lucifer said was, "They didn't believe in God. All these people who lived good and honest lives... Now being punished because Daddy Dearest wasn't a thing to them..."
Jesus remembered weeping for them. He didn't want to see it any more, but once he got back and God told the scribes how it went... He wanted to stop them like the moneylenders. He sighed, remembering yet another scene that Lucifer showed him of hell.
It was towards the end of it all when he saw a Grove. All of the statues there were of Men and women of great importance to other cultures. Greek, Roman, Egyptian, Norse, Japanese, Sumerian. All the old gods were there. Lucifer sighed and walked in, with Jesus following curiously.
"Such a shame this all happened 'cause Dad didn't want competition, Hell isn't just a torture chamber for the evils of mankind, but for Men and women who never knew him or you. Dad wasn't the only god who made the world." Lucifer stood before Ra, Zeus, Ymir, and Vishnu.
"These fellas? They helped Dad guide humanity after Babel, but once they got too strong... Wham! Down here!"
Jesus blinked at Lucifer, "You're lying to me, Father would nev-"
"Nah nah nah, I'm talking. If dad really cared about the humans, he would've never shoved those who choose to believe in these guys, his original helpers, down here," Lucifer reasoned, his calico eyes staring right at Jesus.
"So, you were saying?" He asked, "Come on, spit it out, J."
"What must I do?" Jesus asked.
Now, back in the courtroom, Jesus considered what he'd seen in Hell. He took a deep breath and looked up at his old friend Peter.
Time to put in a good word. | just quick before I start, I'm writing this in lucifer's perspective
the look on his face was priceless."don't say a word about it" he hissed, just loud enough for me to hear."I guess we might just have to come to an agreement then" I whisper back.his face darkens, "I will help you if you keep your mouth shut""I can't promise anything," I say "but if you can vouch for an old pal like me, I might not say anything""fine" he says.I turn back around to face the front of the courtroom. the wide double doors on the right side of the room open and a blinding white light shines through. I look away as my eyes that are used to the dark depths of hell can't take the light. I hear footsteps on the hardwood floor. I force myself to look to my right again. I see a tall muscular man that looks to be in his 60's with a white long white beard that looked as though it would drape on the floor if he was not careful. I recognized him as the being that I had once called my father. but that was many millennia ago, when I was a weak angel. it is god. he walks up to the podium at the front of the room and glares down at me.In a booming voice he says "Lucifer, you are being charged with crimes against humanity, the universe, and heaven itself. how do you plead?""not guilty" I say immediately"and what evidence can you shoe the court to support this claim?""I have a witness" I reply. I turn behind me to see Jesus looking like he wants to sink into his seat."and who may this be?" god asks in a condescending tone."your son" I say. he looks confused. "Jesus himself."god regains his composure. "very well, we shall hear what Jesus has to say" he announces Jesus walks up to the stand. "Lucifer is a fine being" He says. I raise my eyebrows.
&#x200B;
this is my continuation.
&#x200B;
Jesus shoots me a look as if to ask what else to say. I motion for him to continue. he sighs.
"Lucifer has never done anything unholy or against the lord." I was a witness to all of his so-called crimes. this was a plan that me and my good friend lucifer created. a social experiment, if you will." he pauses, "and I will vouch for him."
god nods his head. looking a little bit more comfortable. jesus steps down from the stand and walks back to his seat.
"is this all of the evidence that you can produce?" god asks me.
"yes" I say. "but..." he looks surprised that I have any more to say. "can you really trust this witness?" I ask pointing to jesus. I may be sentenced to eternal damnation for this but I really don't care. "I personally run hell. I know all the happenings. remember 32AD?" I tell what happened. gods face darkens the more I talk. Jesus looks betrayed. in the end, it is not just me who's life is destroyed. but what can I say, I am the devil after all.
a grin spreads across my face.
&#x200B;
**Fini** | 2021-04-19T10:24:11 | 2021-04-19T09:56:28 | 70 | 47 |
[WP] "Our greatest feat was switching all the fairytale books and history books, once upon a time. Now they've so muddied the truth with fiction that they'll never learn it." "This is a good thing?" "Good lord, yes. Have you seen the history they THINK is real? Imagine what they'll do with reality." | *Once upon a time there was a guy who was very scared. A guy who loved a girl who couldn’t be woken. A guy who ran far, far away.*
I have a friend who is a couple of years younger than me. She’s a tree surgeon. That is, she cuts down trees. I suppose she treats sickly trees too, and that’s why she’s called a surgeon, but it seems to me she mostly cuts them down.
”If a tree gets too tall,” she told me, “if its arms brush up against cloud, then a giant might climb down them. And then we’d all be screwed.”
It was first time I’d seen my friend in a year. I’d moved away from Talbrook — out of my childhood mountain town on the border of Wales — to take a job in London. I shared an apartment with my girlfriend and commuted to my job in the city as an accountant. That is, until two months ago, when my girlfriend got into an accident.
I’d returned to Talbrook yesterday because London had become as lonely as a grave.
“But you’ve never cut down a tree that grows as high as a cloud,” I said. ”If you had, I’d have heard of it. The ground would have shaken and there would be enough wood to get England through winter.”
My friend considered. “Well no, I haven’t cut down a tree as big as that. But I’ve heard of people who have done. Jack chopped down a tree that big, for example.”
”And he was a tree surgeon?” I waved my hand at the barman and ordered two more beers.
”Yes. Although back then, they weren’t called surgeons.”
My friend‘s father died when she was only six. The stories he‘d used to read to her, like Jack and the Beanstalk, must have forged a connection in her mind to her father. She’d been teased a lot at school for believing Hansel and Gretel, and Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, and all the other stories her father had told her, were actual true history.
But she’d never stopped believing them, despite the bullying. She’d never let the stories go. She held onto them as if they were her father’s hand, and as long as she held firmly, he’d never truly be gone.
”I thought Jack stole a golden egg,“ I said. “Or was it a goose that laid golden eggs? I thought that’s why the giant came down. To get his property back. Which seems fair to me?”
”The giant abducted the goose! Jack gave it a much better life.”
I took a long sip of my beer. I liked my friend. I’d always thought of her belief in fairy tales as a character quirk. They made her different and kind of special. I don’t think she really believed they were all true, but she just wouldn’t let go of her father’s hand.
I wondered if I’d have the courage to hold on, despite everyone telling me to let go.
“I’m sorry what happened to Claire,” said my friend, almost out of the blue.
I nodded, finished my beer, and ordered another. “Me too.”
”Does it mean you’re coming back here? For good, I mean. I know you’ve been staying at your parents’, but will you live here?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. My life isn’t here.” But inside, I couldn’t see how I would ever step on board a train to London again. I didn’t have the strength.
”No. I suppose it’s not.” She paused and then took my free hand in her own, cupping it like a shell over a pearl. “She’ll be okay. You know, there was was once a girl who people called Sleeping Beauty, and no one could wake her, either. No doctors or religious people or anyone like that.”
It felt like she’d shot a barbed arrow through my heart. “I know the story. But her prince woke her,” I said. “And when I kissed Claire‘s lips it was like I was kissing meat. I think there’s a difference between a witch’s curse and a drunk driver. You understand?“
My friend drank her own beer and considered. “I am sorry,“ she said again.
”If she does wake up, she’ll be changed,” I said. “Might not be able to walk or move or remember me.”
”But she might.”
”She might,” I conceded. “Or she might be a rotting tree that needs cutting down.”
”Why did you come back?” my friend asked.
“I guess I needed some support.”
“And you followed the trail you’d scattered through the woods and it led you back here.”
”I’ve not been in a house made of candy, if that’s what you mean.”
”But you still followed your trail home.”
”I guess.”
“You love her a lot,” said my friend. “Don’t you?”
”We were going to get married. Or, I think we were.“ I hadn’t told anyone this but for some reason it spilled out. “I’d already bought the ring. You know what I was waiting for? Before I asked her to marry me?”
”What?”
”I was waiting for the right weather. Wrong country to wait for that, right?”
My friend smiled. “She’s your Sleeping Beauty. And you’re her prince.”
”Then why can’t I wake her?”
”I don’t know that. Every new story written is a little different. But there’s truth in them all. They all repeat. They’re all honest — or at least at their heart they’re honest. At their core. They’re more honest than anything else.”
We had one more drink before I left. I was ready to go back to my old room at my parents’ house, where time had stayed perfectly still and yet everything had changed.
I thought of how my friend held onto her father through her fairy tales. I thought of Claire, and of the ring still in my coat pocket. Of how much I loved her. Of being as brave as my friend and never letting go of Claire’s hand, regardless of what people said or thought.
Because fairy tales could be true. Sleeping Beauty did wake. The prince did marry her. They did get their happily ever after.
And even if I didn’t get a happily ever after, even if all I had was my ‘once upon a time’, at least I’d have tried.
I’d return to London tomorrow.
I balled my hand into a fist as if there was a precious locket held inside of it, and for the first time since the accident, I cried. | “The Illusionist is in place in New Mexico, T minus ten to test start.”
Julius’s voice boomed through the deepness of the bunker. They were so far below Manhattan’s streets that all the hustle and bustle of the greatest city in the world had drifted away. Working here, a man could be forgiven for thinking the world wasn’t so imperiled.
They’d still be fired of course, but forgiveness entailed a severance.
Julius lowered the still glowing tip of the wand from his throat and looked around at his team. They were a motley crew, some in lab coats, most in robes, all of them humming with the restless, unquantifiable energy that the world thought it had locked away.
“Will the Illusionist be able to do it?” Albert asked, creeping up on Julius’s right.
“Harry’s the best, if anyone can craft a fiction those saps will believe it’s him.” Julius glanced at his partner, but only for a moment, confirming what horrific shape he’d taken today. Albert wore his classic full moon spectacles on head of flyaway gray hair, but below that he sported four arms and the lower body of a spider with separate lab coat tails for each leg. Julius shuddered. The man was a genius, but most assuredly a mad one.
“And the Jerry’s? The Japs? Will he fool them too?”
“He doesn’t have to fool them, they know what we’re about, for all the good it will do them. We have the best theorists in the whole of the wizarding world right here in New York City, the Los Alamos project is a year or more ahead of Berlin.”
“I hope you’re about that,” Albert said.
Julius hoped so too. He glanced down at his watch, seven more minutes. “Places people! Enrico, get the pixie! Niels, bring the scrolls! The rest of you take your places, and if you forget your wands again may the Gods help you, I’m not restarting this countdown!”
The crew sprung into action, and as Enrico strapped the struggling pixie down in the lab’s sunken test chamber Julius closed his eyes. He allowed himself to feel excitement and fear for a few moments before any major undertaking, it sharpened him afterward, drained the nerves. Soon they’d test the greatest weapon in history of the world. Elder Magic would be swept aside, and the next century or more of terrestrial evolution would be bound to his hand. It was a lot to handle.
One breath.
Two breaths.
Three breaths.
“Are you ready, old friend?” Albert asked.
Julius opened his eyes and nodded, walking over to the rail above the test chamber. “Yes. Are you ready to change the world?”
“Then you think it will work this time?”
“Yes.”
“Julius, how can you be so sure?”
He fixed Albert with a stern look, pushing down the discomfort of the shapeshifter’s ever changing form. “Albert, I am quite literally Death. Don’t you think I know when my children are born?”
Albert sighed, and now it was his turn to avert his eyes. “Sometimes you frighten me, Julius. You’re Death, yes, but this? This isn’t about ending one life or ten or a hundred, this is about worlds. Are you ready to become the Destroyer of Worlds?”
“If it means winning this war? I’ll take up the mantle and never look back.”
“May God have the mercy on your soul.”
“Gods.”
“As you will.”
Julius grunted and checked his watch again. One minute left.
“Wands at the ready!”
Twenty wizards from five different species stepped forward, their wands a riotous mix of colors. Niels went among them, handing scrolls to each.
“Cast!” Julius shouted.
A great chorus rose up, reverberating off the lab’s stone walls as the wizards declaimed the Elder Tongue, mixing old words and new spellcraft for the first in living memory. The fine hairs stood up on the back of Julius’s neck, and when he looked to Albert every one of the man’s eight legs was shaking.
The wizards extended their wands and long, thin strands of light began emanating from the tips. They wrapped around other each, coiling into glowing ropes, robes weaving together into seamless panels, panels layering over each other to form a dome.
Before the dome closed Enrico uttered a little spell of his own, teleporting out through a hole in the top. “The pixie is ready,” he said. Then Niels came over and handed Julius his scroll, the only one of its kind. He stared at the words as if seeing them for the first time. He’d written many of them himself of course, but here? Now? It was different.
Tomblike silence descended over the lab, broken only by the pixie's occasional squeals. Julius’s checked his watch one last time, he was a minute past.
“Late, I shouldn’t be late,” he muttered.
“Julius you don’t have too—”
Julius cut Albert off with a sharp wave of his hand, then he too stepped up, body pressed against the rail, eyes glued to the little red and yellow pixie strapped down on its table.
And then he began his chant, and if he’d thought the others filled the room before, this one shook him to the very depths of his soul.
The Elder Tongue fell from his lips like hammer blows, syllables twisted as they’d never meant to have been, and on the table below the little pixie went still.
Seconds passed in agony, waiting, praying that it would work.
Then the pixie’s skin began to bubble. Its belly distended, growing twice its size and then again. It made was no longer a squeal, but instead uttered the most guttural, raw scream any creature among them had ever heard in all their long years.
Its skin split, bones snapped, and the dust inside its body tore itself apart at a subatomic level.
The explosion of the pixie’s death rocked the bunker, throwing wizards to the ground despite their shield. Dust filled the lab, and a part of Julius lit up as a soul departed from one of his assistants, a man whose section of the shield hadn’t born enough of the blast. Julius tasted blood and spit. The tip of his tongue went with it.
“My god,” Albert whispered.
Where the pixie had been, a chasm remained. If not for the shield they’d have all died, and of the city above, who could possibly know.
“The Illusionist reports a successful show!” One of his assistants called out.
Julius nodded. “Albert,” he said, “what have we done? Was that really just one pixie?”
Albert rose, his lower body transforming back into a man’s as he took Julius by the shoulders and stared into his eyes, checking to see if his friend was ok, rubbing some of the blood off his chin with his sleeve. Then he stepped back and bowed deeply.
“I name you Death, Destroyer of Worlds,” Albert said. Enrico bowed, Niels bowed, then all the others as they struggled back to their feet.
*“What have I done?”* Julius thought.
r/TurningtoWords | 2021-05-02T09:51:24 | 2021-05-02T07:55:24 | 154 | 69 |
[WP] One day, every person spontaneously gains a superpower based on their job. Psychologists gain telepathy, Firefighters can waterbend or firebend, Pilots can fly. Your job, previously looked down upon, yields the strongest power of them all. | I pull up alongside the bank, hydraulic brakes screeching. The masked men run out, bags of money bobbing at their sides as they hurry toward their getaway car.
I open the door, and hop out. They stop, comedically bumping into each other like a trio of stooges. "Who the fuck are you?" One asks.
It's probably my clothes. When *The Event* hit, my usually work pants and vets transformed into your typical spandex suit, in wild neon colors. I'm taking dayglow. I'm talking burn your retinas and leave an after image.
I grin at them, showing off my one gold tooth. Gold, because I had a root canal, not some showoff rapper bullshit. Anyways I grin.
"I'm the Trashman, motherfuckers." I snap my fingers, and the garbage in the back for my truck sorts itself neatly into biomass, and the various recyclable categories, whooshing away magically (I assume) to the proper facilities.
The human garbage in front of my also sorts itself. Two of the robbers find themselves on a bench in the county prison. The third winds up on a bed in the psych ward.
I get back into my truck. "I'm the Motherfucking trashman." I mumble to myself, and take a long slurp from the 7-11 Icee on my dash. | 3 years ago.
3 years since the event.
The event which gave everyone on the planet powers. No one seemed to realize at first, but gradually everyone discovered their powers. Firefighters can control fire and water, construction workers can manipulate materials and shape earth. Security workers gained impervious skin or incredible reflexes. Emergency services gained super speed while doctors gained the power to heal.
The world realized that your powers came from what you were destined to do. Even those who were not employed would gain powers specific to a field. And inevitably they would chose their careers from the powers they gained.
I almost laughed the first time I heard it. People chosing jobs based on their powers, it seems that destiny has become lazy. What point is it giving powers before the person becomes what they are destined to? Doesn't that influence them into becoming what the power is for?
And that's when I realized. If the power is for what you are destined to become, what if you decided to not become that? What would happen. I had the power analyze, a power given to those destined to become a quality assurance agent. And I used this analyze what happens when I suddenly decided to become unemployed.
At first there was no change, but an inexplicable urge that what I was doing was wrong. But I ignored it, I wanted to know too badly. And then I had nothing. No powers, no urge, nothing.
People looked down at me in pity, I was powerless in this powered city. But they were wrong, I wasn't powerless. I just hadn't chosen my destiny. If in my mind I decided to become a firefighter I would be able to manipulate fire and water. If I switched that thought to a pilot, I'd lose the ability to manipulate fire and water but I'd gain the power to fly.
I could become anything, so the world granted me everything.
They looked down on me because I was unemployed, but now... Now they fear me.
Because I finally chose my path.
I chose...
God. | 2021-05-09T20:57:31 | 2021-05-09T17:46:06 | 249 | 52 |
[WP] You're living in a world where superpowers exist, and you're the most dangerous individual of all. Your power? You project an aura where all the laws of reality/normality assert themselves. You are the anti-super | What happens when the unstoppable force meets the immovable object? They surrender.
\-Superman
Day 4
I look towards the horizon. Just beyond my power limit, I see more heroes converging. Dawn's arriving on day 4 since the news got out that I am the last anti, and the day the only other anti super besides me died. There used to be more of us, but no one likes being forced to be average again. The only reason I survived this long was that I chose to keep a low profile and live a modest life.
Most of my comrades were enlisted in various government agencies. They were the ultimate contingency plan for leaders in a super world. However, we were deemed obsolete after the creation of anti-weapons. It didn't take long for our eradication to begin without protection from the governments we once served. Within 3 yrs there were only 30 of us. Our population had been brought down to 1% of what it had been at my birth.
I became our leader at that time as I was the only one that had managed to evade ever being targetted. It became critical to teach the rest of my people to live quietly and fight viciously. Unfortunately, this concept was too foreign to them, and so they failed. It was less than a year before we were down to two.
Suddenly, a tremor makes the ground shake beneath me. I scan the surrounding desert for the perpetrator for a moment before spotting her. She makes it clear that she's a fledging elemental. All her moves are so exaggerated, it takes no effort to counter them. I could extend further, inform her that she's in my range, but I won't. I learned long ago that mercy is a quick path to death for an anti. Instead, I choose to wait until every rock, tremor, and gust of wind almost finds me before extinguishing the power flow.
Soon the girl starts to show signs of tiring. Sand is my preference for that. It takes more effort to control than dirt, like water. It's also much denser than water, making it require more effort ounce for ounce. Most elementals do not master it for those reasons. I can't help but smirk as she starts to drag a stone from the depths of the sand and raises it above her head. That was a fatal mistake.
All at once, I extinguish the power around me in a circle large enough to engulf her. She doesn't have time to scream before there's a heavy thud from the stone returning to earth. There was no sickening crunch either, just a heavy thud. No trace of the fledging left to show. This just makes me smile more. I don't like a mess.
A few more random fledglings approached me that day, some alone, some in groups. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to dispatch them all as neatly as the first. The older ones did not dare to come within 3 miles of me. They remembered what it was like sparring with us. They understood that I'd remained alive the longest for a reason.
They don't know it, but part of the reason I have endured so well is that my family was exceptionally blessed with power. I was the youngest of 6 children. Each was gifted from a unique power field from the next, me being the only anti. Our parents believed it was in our best interests to hone our skills as early as possible. As such, I grew up sparring with an elemental, a morph, a mentalist, an athletic, and a magician. We mastered our powers together. I have yet to encounter a scenario that we hadn't simulated before reaching the age of 18.
I scanned the horizon as the sun began to dip behind distant peaks. It had been quiet for a while now. Time to move away from this mess. It felt like that's what I'd been doing my whole life. I wondered if anyone had noticed my other secret as I trudged the rapidly cooling sands. I've been experimenting for years now and realized something about my powers. As my brethren were being irradicated, my power steadily increased. When my last anti-sister died, it doubled.
I had decided to wait until tomorrow to see if there were any limitations now. This morning I pushed a thin tendril of anti-power around the planet, creating a ring of regular people around the world for one minute. It didn't feel like increasing its size would be a challenge. Nor was maintaining it. I'm eager for the morning. It's time for the world to face the consequences of the genocide of my people.
Day 5
It worked
&#x200B;
Edit: About 20 spaces
Edit 2: Tremor is not a verb.
Edit 3: I am so grateful for the gold, thank you, stranger! | All I wanted to be was a normal man with a normal life. Live peacefully with my wife. But the gods… the gods just couldn’t leave us alone.
I looked towards the sky. Their home. Their city in the sky. And then I looked at my home. What was left of it anyways. The fire was dying down but my heart was already engulfed by the flames. There was only one way to put those out.
Elysian. It had to fall.
****
“You want to go where?” Rafa looked at me, his eyes widening.
“Elysian.”
“No chance. Us normal people don’t belong there.”
“How much?”
“No can do.”
“70,000 chells.”
I didn’t think it was possible for his eyes to go even wider but they did.
“I’ll take that as a yes. I’ll have your your payment in three days. Keep my passage ready.”
*****
I dragged the prone body into the offices of Jack Schuster.
His first instinct was to go for the gun. “Who’re you?”
“This man is a wanted criminal. I believe the bounty on his head is 150000 chells. Give me 75000 and he’s all yours.”
“Or I could shoot you and take him in myself.”
“He was a fire type.” I kicked the man lying on the ground. “He has been extinguished now. If you take that shot, I beg of you to make it. Cause if you miss, I will kill you.”
Jack lowered his weapon. “I’ll turn him in. The money will take some time to clear.”
“I’ll need it now.” I picked up his large brimmed hat from the table. “And the hat.”
******
We hovered in the air just over Elysian.
“This is as low as I can go. Anything lower and they’ll detect me. This is too much of a risk already.”
The small plane shook violently, fighting against the winds. “This will do.”
And I jumped.
*******
First there was nothing. Then the forces that be, created two flames. The flame of being. Creating life. Creating superheroes out of normal people. And there was the flame of unbeing. Destroying life. Taking humanity to its inevitable conclusion.
As the flame of being glowed brighter and brighter, superheroes became stronger with every generation. So strong that they came to look upon humans as insects to be played with. They ascended to heavens and used earth as their personal playground. They lost their way. The flame had given them the strength to protect life. But they were taking to away now.
Meanwhile the flame of unbeing slowly burned out. The cycle continued. When time came, it would burn bright again as the other flame dimmed. Destroying human life and getting our world ready for something new.
*******
I saw guards running towards me as my chute landed. I ran my hands over my guns and put on my hat, securely stashed inside my long coat for the flight.
“Hey you. Stop where you are. This is Elysian. Entry for normal folks is prohibited here.”
I stood looking down, ignoring him. I felt my pulse quicken as he entered my aura.
“Are you deaf? Answer me or I’ll…”
I raised my head and looked at him. The flame of unbeing burnt bright in my eyes.
******
The news of my arrival were spreading like wildfire in their heaven. I had a singular purpose however.
I could sense it. I knew where I needed to go.
Alex Strong stood at the gate.
“You’ve spread enough chaos. It’s time to take you down.”
“You can try.”
My guns were hungry. It had been a long time.
“I don’t know how you got the best of the other guys but I’m gonna break you in half. Whatever your superpower is, nothing can match my strength.”
He rushed at me. I ran towards him.
I went down to my knees, letting his momentum carry him past me but sending a crushing blow to his knees as he did.
He cried out, unable to move. I sat down next to him.
“This is for my wife.”
My bloodthirsty guns were finally sated.
I continued into the city’s brain.
The flame burned on. The flame of being. Powering the city and everyone in it.
As I moved towards it, my wife stood there.
“Honey. Come. Give me a hug.”
I kept moving. The flame knew my weak spot.
“Honey. Come to me.” I felt my resolve weaken. Even if she wasn’t real, my brain wouldn’t know it. It would believe. As long as the flame was close I’d believe…
I remember the flames again. My wife had been making my favourite dish that day.
I cry out and rush towards the flame.
“Honey! Stop. Look. Look at her. Our kid that couldn’t be. We would’ve named her Stacy.”
The seconds felt like years. My wife kept calling to me but I kept running.
“Honey. Stacy is dying. I need your help.”
I ran into the flame, relishing the burn. My aura enveloped it.
The city having lost its power source plunged downwards.
They had lost their way. They had to pay. They would all pay. | 2021-06-24T19:59:37 | 2021-06-24T19:57:32 | 775 | 119 |
[WP] What’s more horrifying than a biblically accurate angel shouting “FEAR NOT”? A modernized angel whispering to you “Be very afraid…” | Gabriel licked my earlobe and said, "Be afraid. Be very afraid."
Light from his halo reflected off the blade he held close to my throat. "Please," I said. "Don't hurt me."
At this, Gabriel laughed. It sounded almost like he was choking. Perhaps he tried to stifle his laugh. "Didn't you know? The lamb of god was always meant for slaughter. Our Lord is hungry, and your sacrificial smoke will fill his celestial belly. At least for a moment."
Three days ago, Gabriel had descended from Heaven and he had approached me at Walmart. I was shopping for laundry detergent. Considered buying something other than the store brand, as I'd made some extra cash after a song of mine had somehow ended up on a big-time Spotify playlist. *Relaxed Study Jams*. Then Gabriel appeared before me.
"Greetings," he had said. "I am come to deliver a message from the Heavens high."
*Oh, great*, I thought. Another weird promotion. What were they selling, pillows or something? But as it turned out, it really was an angel. He proved as much by resurrecting my cat.
Flippers had stood by my side since childhood. Then she got glaucoma. It made her look like a zombie or a ghost; something supernatural. Then she was, in a perfectly natural fashion, struck by the neighbor's car. Flippers couldn't see a thing. But she yearned for birds and would follow their tweets even across a road that to her was just another thing of darkness.
Gabriel dug her up by hand. He pulled her putrefying corpse from the soil, and her head came off. But Gabriel stuck it back on and suddenly her eyes came alive. Then the rest of her followed suit. Flippers had risen from the dead. And I had no choice but to believe that Gabriel really was an angel, sent from God for some mysterious purpose.
I ended up buying the cheap detergent, and Gabriel had followed me home. Stalking me all the way. That's when he saw the crude grave, and he got to digging like I said.
"What's with the knife?" I said. "You're an angel. Surely you don't need a knife?"
"To me, there's no knife at all. It manifested from your own mind. All I did was think of fear. You did the rest. A knife? What a conventional object of fear. Why not something more Biblical, like a snake?"
"I don't know," I said.
"Why not the angry head of your schoolteacher?"
"T-That would be bizarre."
"Many people fear the absurd, dear lamb. I guess that means you fear conventions. My mind has changed. I guess there is something interesting about you after all."
Gabriel's knife dissipated, and he embraced me in a hug. I tried to shy away, but his grip was as firm as rigor mortis. "The Lord will have such a fine meal," he whispered into my ear. "I am sure the taste will be ... divine."
I tried to think of *Balsam of the Winds*, my unexpected Patchify hit. It was a calm piano piece with synthesized string harmonies and it was no more overpowering than a wet towel. It was the sort of song you'd instantly forget. Which meant you wouldn't grow tired of it. You could keep coming back to it, like a pilsner, and it would leave no trace whatsoever in your mind. Now this had become a problem. Because I couldn't remember the melody at all.
"Please," I pleaded once more. "Flippers is alive again. She needs me."
"The Lord has no need of your corporeal form. Your feline companion is free to feast on your remains."
"She's not going to do that," I protested, swinging my arms around to show that I really meant it.
Gabriel paused, and stared at Flippers. She was in the midst of cleaning her behind. "She's a cat," he said.
I crossed my arms. "So? She loves me. She won't eat me."
"... You have fundamentally misjudged the nature of cats," said Gabriel.
Though he was a god's companion, the angel had gotten it all wrong. When Flippers had lost her vision and licked the air in confusion, I cleaned her with my own tongue. And she let me. That's love. I got a rash so I stopped doing it, but the fact that I thought to do it at all meant that there was a real connection. A bond. Flippers didn't see me as food. She saw me as a large, inelegant cat. I was sure of it.
"Wait," I said. I could feel the blood draining from my face. Why hadn't it occurred to me before? With horror a sneaking suspicion entered my mind, and it grabbed hold of me.
"What?" said Gabriel. "Are you going to get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness? It's not going to work. The Lord gets fuzzy if he misses his afternoon snack. There could be another flood. Or locusts. Or—"
"No," I said. "No no no."
"Prepare to meet your maker," said Gabriel. "Prepare to become the *meat* of your maker. Prepare to—"
"Why!?"
"Will you stop interrupting me?" said Gabriel, and his halo turned red, like a mood ring.
It wasn't because I was licking my cat's fur. It was because I went with the cheap detergent. That's why I got a rash. Did that mean there hadn't been a bond at all? That Flippers really would eat me, if she got the chance?
Flippers meowed, as if to confirm my fears.
"Do it!" I shouted. "Just go ahead and do it, Gabe."
"... Don't call me Gabe."
"End me!" I screamed, and Gabe did as I asked.
As flames engulfed me from thin air, I realized something. *Balsam of the Winds* was on. It had been on this whole time.
I just didn't hear it. | # Bargain Bin Superheroes
(Arc 5, Part 2: Mare v.s. Tamulu)
(Note: Bargain Bin Superheroes is episodic; each part is self-contained. This story can be enjoyed without reading the previous sections. That being said, [this story](https://www.reddit.com/r/bubblewriters/comments/mmzrng/wp_angels_are_thought_to_be_beautiful_while/) provides some extra context.)
**In Mare's many lifetimes, they had played a thousand roles.** Conqueror and conquered. Deity and faithful. Oppressor and oppressed. It was hard, over a lifespan longer than human civilization, to keep seeing people as people. So many of Mare's kin had fallen to seeing them as props, all the world a stage and them the only actors.
But even the greatest show needed an intermission. A space for the actors to take a sip of water and check on how the show was doing.
Mare stood in an abandoned parking lot beneath a burning, smoky sky. The city of Sacrament had been beautiful, once, before its mayor had been banished and its citizens turned to rioting. Skyscrapers now darkened with soot, unidentifiable or all-too-identifiable stains plastering the floor—Mare had seen worse collapses, but not many.
Mare had come in their rock-star guise. A shock of deliberately shaggy hair spilled over one shoulder, a guitar case still slung over their back. All of it was fake, of course, part of the show; Mare was a shapeshifter, and their body was their will and nothing more.
"You're late," their opposite number said as Mare rounded a corner. The small, colorful bird gave Mare a baleful glare. Not all of Mare's ilk had chosen human form; many of the angels had decided to take the form of an animal this time around. Actors got tired of playing the same role for thousands of years, after all. "Were you doing something?"
"By definition, yes." Mare narrowed their eyes, piercing through the bird's outer form and seeing into their soul. "Tamulu. I thought I'd be rid of you for a century, at least, when Brouhaha collapsed."
"Ah, ah, ah. That's not your line. Let me prompt you." Tamulu rippled, and the bird was not a bird but a white-robed priest, one hand a miasma of burning light. "Avast, demon! I have borne your presence for far too long! Begone with ye, begone!"
Mare rolled their eyes. Fine. If that was the game the angel wanted to play, then the devil would fall into their familiar role all the same. The rockstar's body erupted, expanding into a thing of craggy obsidian and molten beauty. "Do you really want to do this? Here? Now? In the middle of a modern city?"
The priest melted away, becoming a police officer in modern uniform. "No, of course not. That's why I'm here, after all. The old days are no more, Mare. Demons can't go around brawling with angels without getting broadcast on live TV. We have to have a lighter touch."
The obsidian monster vanished, leaving a stern-faced military man in his place. "A lighter touch? You're asking a shapeshifter to have a *lighter touch*? As your superior officer—or someone who looks exactly like them—I command you to shut your ignorant mouth. And maybe fetch me a coffee, while you're at it."
Tamulu's form blurred, becoming a young woman with empathy in her eyes and a smile on her face. "No, I don't think I will. Instead, I'll become a plucky heroine with too many tricks up her sleeve and defy governmental authority over and over again. With a *bit* too much help from her supernatural friend."
Mare inhaled sharply.
Tamulu smiled with another woman's body.
"So that's why you're here," Mare finally said.
"You've been too invested in the world of the mortals," Tamulu confirmed. "The show must go on. You're deviating from your script."
"Spare me your metaphors," Mare said. "They're *people*. Look around, Tamulu. Look at this damn city. They're suffering, *millions* of people suffering, and I have the power to step in and *help*. More than you've ever done. *Angels*, my ass."
"Ephemeral," Tamulu said, dismissive. "Your actions could draw the attention of the mortal world onto us even more than they already have. How do you think the show will fare when its props rise up against it?"
"You know," Mare said pensively, "I do think you're about to find out."
Tamulu froze, staring behind Mare with piercing eyes.
"You can come out now, kids," Mare said.
A group of civilians—people, just *people* living in the ruined hell their city had become—stepped out, armed with guns and knives and kitchen chairs.
And all of them had heard Tamulu ranting about how the *props* were out of line.
"I *am* sorry that I was late to our little meeting," Mare said. "But it took me a while to gather the posse."
"You *imbecile*," Tamulu hissed. "Setting humanity against the angels? Our kind will fall for the first time in milennia—"
"Why do you think I'm doing it?" Mare steepled their fingers. "They don't call me a demon for nothing, you know. I'm no friend of yours."
The angel stood, staring down the seething mob.
And smirked.
"Very well. If conflict is what you wish..." Tamulu's shadow lengthened as they elongated, wings and eyes and too many burning wheels to count expanding from their body. The crowd readied their guns, their modern weapons, to fight a terror of the past.
Then all at once, Tamulu imploded, and they were just a little kid. Just anyone you would see on the street, without a second passing thought.
"Be very afraid," the angel whispered.
Then they leapt into the sky on impossibly powerful legs, gunfire pelting their body like so much summer rain.
A.N.
"Bargain Bin Superheroes" is an episodic story where each part is inspired by a writing prompt that catches my eye. Check out [this post](https://www.reddit.com/r/bubblewriters/comments/mhzat1/bargin_bin_superheroes_masterpost/) for the rest of the story, and subscribe to r/bubblewriters for more. If you have any feedback, please leave it below. As always, I had fun writing this, and I hope you have a good day. | 2022-01-29T08:48:43 | 2022-01-29T07:30:10 | 43 | 15 |
[WP] You're strapped to a table. Surrounded by cultists. They've summoned their demonic deity and are preparing to sacrifice you. You've decided to go all-in on the only way out you have left. Make the demon an offer the cultists can't match. | “WAIT!”
The Bearers of B’HaZh- whatever the name was - froze.
I froze.
The thing I couldn’t quite name froze, too.
Okay, Jack, think. You bought yourself precious few moments. Think how to buy more.
“I won’t be any good as sacrifice!”
The thing chuckled and took a step towards me. I can imagine it heard enough of stuff like that.
“Ten years!” Everyone looked at me. “Ten years is how long it took these assholes to get me ready for you! I can get you hundreds of people like me in less than a year!”
“Lies!” Head Priest - I called him Chris - growled. “My Lord, Our FatherC do not dirty your ears with the nonbeliever’s desperate words!”
“I am telling the truth! The torture? The pain? The indulgence and vanity? I can get you all of that in droves!”
Chris moved to silence me. That thing he worshipped removed his head from the body as easily as one would twist off the cap of the bottle.
It opened its mouth.
Speak.
It didn’t say it. But I knew what it wanted.
“You want involuntary suffering? Give me some time and I will open up retail shops where people will suffer just to earn their living. You want people to be vain and vicious? I can start a new app where people will post tributes to laziness, envy and pride! And if you want people to sacrifice their babies and loved ones?” I chuckled humourlessly. “It will take some time but I can see it being a trend, alright. We’ve done worse for less.”
The thing looked down at me.
Would I really sell out the rest of the world to buy myself forty years of life tops?
Yes.
Would I be willing to work for the very thing I was supposed to be sacrificed to?
Also, yes.
And would I be happy with it?
No. But I would be alive. And I always could end my own life if it got too heavy to bear.
The restraints on my wrists snapped. The other members of the cults helped me to my feet. The thing was in here with me now. In my shadow. In my head.
“Let’s get to work, everyone.” | The overwhelming smell of incense stung my nose as the cultists danced around me. As they chanted guttural sounding phrases I couldn’t understand I began hyperventilating. Just when I thought I might pass out the torches all went out and the chanting stopped.
I looked left, then right, but from my vantage point strapped to the stone altar I struggled to make out what was happening around me. With the cultists silent I could now hear the rustling of the leaves and the many sounds of the rainforest. I never should’ve come on this business trip.
After all, did I really need to buy another island? Of course not. But this just might be the acquisition that filled the hole in my heart. I’d do anything not to feel so empty inside.
A loud ethereal humming began to build. Quiet at first, but before long it grew into a piercing noise that made me want to die. The cultists all fell to the ground writhing in discomfort, hands ripping at their ears.
Then I heard a loud pop, followed by complete silence. A vaguely humanoid shape hovered above me. It emitted a faint red luminescence that lit the scene around me. I noticed that the cultists were all dead. Blood pooled around their now lifeless bodies.
I panicked, desperately trying to free myself from the tight ropes binding my arms and legs. It was no use. The insidious entity hovering above me was perfectly still. I noticed it had the upper body of a human, but its lower body resembled a serpent.
“Please don’t kill me! I’ll give you anything you want,” I pleaded desperately with the creature. It stared at me for a minute in silence.
Its eyes rolled back into its head and then it finally replied. “I have held dominion over this island and the seas around it since your kind lived in caves. What could you possibly have to offer me?”
“I have everything. I can give you whatever you’d like! Please, just let me live. I own one of the biggest companies in the world. If you don’t kill me we can bring sorrow and ruin to the entire world together. I swear it.”
The entity hummed and vibrated with raw energy. I lay there in sheer terror, trying to accept that this would be the end. Maybe I deserve this. After all of the small businesses I destroyed, technology I had stolen, and lives I had ruined.
The demon slithered in a loop around the tall trees before it whispered menacingly, “Speak your name and I will possess you. Together we will feed on the despair of this world.”
My eyes opened wide. My cold heart pulsed with excitement. This was something all the money in the world couldn’t buy after all. I looked into the dark eyes of the entity accepting it, before I spoke my name. “Jeff Bezos.” | 2022-02-14T06:59:23 | 2022-02-14T05:59:47 | 63 | 29 |
[WP] “So how did you get Dragon blood in your veins?” “Ah well, long ago my family was cur-“ “Didn’t you say your family was never cursed?” “Oh uh, yeah um… so uh, there was a witch-“ “Im not buying it.” “*sigh*… so my great grandpa was a bard…” | “My great grandfather was a bard, but hardly a grand one. He didn’t sing great ballads of heroes that would be sung and repeated for centuries after his death, he took the less glamourous path of using his songs to raise disease awareness,” I replied.
Jeremy blinked, “This is not how I expected this story to start. But anyways, he may not be very grand in the traditional sense, but he’s still doing valuable work by raising awareness.”
I groaned, “That’s what you’d think, but if you heard his songs you’d disagree. I mean, I don’t blame him persay, it’s not easy to rhyme a word with Leukemia. Cry-a-sweeties was his rhyme for diabetes, it’s as bad as you think. His best song was terminal dancer.”
Jeremy winced, “Oh, you’re right. Well, at least he tried. Did he raise awareness?”
I shook my head, “Not really. We live in a world of magic where dragons breathe fire and bards can heal people by strumming their guitars, disease is honestly trivial.”
Jeremy sighed, “Ah, too bad. But I don’t see what any of this has to do with dragon blood.”
“I’m not finished. Because of my great grandfather’s profession, he met a lot of people in the hospital, did the rounds, tried to cheer them up. It was there that he met the love of his life.”
“A dragon?”
“No, she was just an ordinary humanoid, but she had this blood disease. She didn’t have much longer to live and was losing a lot of blood. The doctors had tried various different donors but none took. She needed something stronger. So my great grandfather set out to find her a cure. He looked far and wide, collected blood samples from all sorts of creatures. Elves, dwarves, orcs, gnomes, even goblins, but none took. He was just about to give up when he saw a dragon fly overhead. The dragon was wounded from a recent battle and had a wounded wing, crashing into a forest clearing. My grandfather raced over, ready to help the dragon in anyway he could.”
“And they….”
“No! My great grandfather was a gentleman. Once my great grandfather helped heal the dragon and once he had aided them the dragon asked him if there was anything they could do in return for his kindness, and my great grandfather asked for one thing: the dragon’s blood. The dragon agreed and a blood transfusion was made, giving my great grandfather’s love the blood she needed. And guess what? It took! She was saved, but our family line has had dragon blood in it ever since.”
“Really? Blood works like that?”
“Dragon blood does, apparently.”
“I’m not buying it.”
“Just look up my great grandfather’s songs, it will confirm my story.”
“I’ll do more than that, I’ll look into your lineage.”
“Oh don’t get me started on your lineage, your parents are a human and an elf and yet you’re part orc.”
“I… it’s a long story.”
“Thought so.” | I regarded my companion in silence. He looked mostly like a standard human male, a bit taller than average, but many of the details were unusual. For starters, there were his big yellow eyes with vertical pupils. Then there were the nubs of horns protruding from his forehead. And were his ears slightly pointed? And of course, those were the only differences I could see. Who knows what was hidden by his clothes.
"Are you blushing?"
I cleared my throat. "No, no, just got lost in la-la land for a second. A bard, huh? What happened?"
The corners of his mouth rose a little, as if he was suppressing a smile. "Well, yeah. Great-grandpa Mal. He would wander around from town to town all across the land, entertaining people at local taverns mostly. Early in his career he would work mostly in exchange for lodging and beer, but as his skills and reputation developed, it became a decent living for him. He got to know all sorts of folks, including some unsavory characters, adventurers and others. Though he preferred to stay out of danger, he would occasionally join a group if the pay was right. He apparently was always pretty skimpy on the details; my guess is some of the time his side work was not *strictly* legal. But anyway, one day, the leader of a group of adventurers asked him to join them on a quest to slay a dragon."
The coffee arrived and my friend looked up at the waitress, thanked her and winked. After taking a quick sip he looked at me and said "You sure you don't want anything, Aiden?"
I cleared my throat. "No, no I'm good for now, Bruce. Thanks though. You were saying?"
He put down his cup and pursed his lips. "Right, dragon slaying. So he apparently called this particular person 'the devil in a dress.' He hated her and her whole gang, though I've never found out why. But the prospect of a share of a dragon hoard was too much for him to resist, so he went along with them. According to the family lore, once they reached the dragon's lair, she cast a powerful spell but fumbled it somehow, partially collapsing the cave on top of them and the dragon. Both he and the dragon survived, but were wounded. Too weary to fight, old great grandad struck up a conversation with it. With her, turns out. You see, Mal had quite a reputation. There was just something about him, apparently. I actually suspect that a lot of his 'entertaining' was more than just story and song."
I took a sip of my water. The light caught Bruce's hair as he shook it. I cleared my throat again. "So what happened next?"
"This coffee is really good. Anyway, the dragon's name was Carthraxes - since you've already guessed it, one of my great-grandmothers. They were stuck for a while in that cave and granny Car-Car was very taken with his boldness for a little human. She says he was so charming and handsome. She initially planned to eat him, but, well, she found a different way to amuse herself. By the time they were able to get out of that cave, she was already fertilized and the egg arrived soon after. Of course, she was not the only sapient Mal had dalliances with. Let me just say, my family reunions are always very interesting. One of them almost caused a war in three different planes!"
He threw back his head and laughed. His teeth were very white.
"And don't even get me started on Grandma Jenkins!"
The waitress came over and whispered into his ear for a moment. He grinned. "Now if you'll excuse me... It looks like I have a date." He looked me up and down. "And maybe
...maybe I can see you again later this evening?"
I blushed again and nodded, and managed to squeak out "I'd like that." I watched him walk away. There was just something about him. | 2022-10-11T08:59:58 | 2022-10-11T08:44:55 | 251 | 116 |
[WP] You are a simple skeleton enemy in a fantasy world, when you encounter the hero, instead of killing you he spares you and asks you to join his side on his adventure. | (Part 4.5)
Alexia and Ansel were still in the ruins they had fought the necromancer in. Instead of going back immediately, they decided to catch their breath there and make camp for the night.
"Thanks for saving me back there, Ansel. I really thought I was done for!" Said Alexia as she ate some jerky she had brought along.
"It was nothing. I simply found an opportunity to give you aid if it was needed." Ansel then tossed another branch into the flames of their campfire. "Besides, it would've all been meaningless if you never had that healing potion with you."
"Yeah, you're right. Thank goodness I had that all along!" She quickly finished the jerky strip in her hand before taking another one right out of her pouch."
"Hm." Ansel simply nodded and his gaze wandered towards her waist. "Is that bag enchanted?"
"Huh?"
"Your bag. Is it enchanted?"
"Oh, you mean my bag! Haha, yep!" She then patted her pouch a few times. "This is a Bag of Holding! Though most adventurers carry them around, mine is of a greater quality than most. It can hold way more than ordinary ones."
"I see."
"Say, Ansel...it's fine if I ask you a few questions, right?" She then leaned forward as she chewed on the jerky strip.
"Hm." Ansel nodded in response.
"Why'd you come down here to save me? Didn't you say that there was a chance that the necromancer might control you?"
"I could sense that his power has weakened enough that he could not control me, even if he wished to. I also had finished off every enemy above before deciding to go down here to assist you."
"Oh...so you killed everything up there?"
"Yes."
"My, aren't you strong." She slyly complimented him. "Then again, you do get stronger when in the presence of dark energy. Do all skeletons get stronger like that?"
"Only if they know how to or if their summoner grants them more power."
"Well, that's a relief. How'd you know to do that?"
"...I watched necromancers do their work." He dryly answered.
"Huh...does this mean you also know how to cast magic?"
"Hmm...I don't know. I've never gotten this much energy before. Perhaps with enough training, I might."
"Oh, that's awesome! Can't wait to see you become a mage!"
"Hm."
Alexia finished eating her fill. Some time had passed, and at this point she was now sleepy.
"You should rest now, Alexia." Ansel spoke calmly. "I'll be watching over you."
"But I don't wanna~ I'm not sleepy..." Said Alexia as she slowly laid on the brown cloak that served as her bedding. "Can I ask more questions?"
"Another time. Now, you need to rest-"
"Why'd you lie to me..?"
Ansel froze. He turned his head to look at her.
"What?"
"You said you didn't know how to fight...but you killed that old man and his ogre like they were nothing...why'd you lie?"
"..."
Ansel did not give an answer.
"Your skill with the blade...was awesome...are you sure...you're just a simple skeleton?"
"Alexia..." Ansel sounded as if a secret of his was about to be revealed.
"No summoner...no master...where'd you come...from..."
"I wish to speak of this no further."
Alexia finally dozed off. Whether or not it was the work of the lingering darkness still permeating the ruins or her own fatigue, she was completely out cold. Ansel went over to the entrance to guard it, silently thinking about her last questions. He let out a sigh as he turned his head back towards her sleeping form, his sockets watching her blonde hair glisten in the light of the waning campfire.
'I'm sorry, Alexia...but there are some things that I'd rather keep to myself.' | Deep below the ground, in a dark and damp dungeon waited a skeleton. He didn't know why he waited there, or what he was waiting for. All that ran through his skull was the urge, no, the need to stay here. His rusty steel sword leaned against the wall, the splintered wooden pommel close to hand. How long had it been? He didn't know. All that the skeleton knew, was that he had to wait here.
Footsteps. How long had it been since he had heard footsteps? The rusted blade was raised, and the sound of ancient bones creaking echoed through the hallway as he readied his blade. No one came through here. He had to protect something. Something important, behind the heavy iron doors he stood in front of. The footsteps grew louder, and the bright light of a torch rounded the corner. The moss covered bones and hollow skull were illuminated for the first time in decades, the sinewy black energy that held him together reflecting the warm light back towards the person who entered the corridor. Bones creaking, he advanced towards the intruder, sword raised- only to find a child. The downward swing faltered, his skull tilting curiously. Child. Young, full of life. Not like the ones who had come before, hardened and angry. The sword was set to the side.
Two blue eyes looked up at him, curious and bright. "You're different, aren't you?" Noises. A voice, not a yell of fury or a scream of pain. Talking. Words. These things, they confused him. He was here to wait, had to wait and protect. The child spoke again, the oversized wizard hat she wore on her head lopsided. "You look old. How long have you been down here?" How long had he been down here? The feeling of the sun, the warm breeze and the grass rustling, when had he last felt those things? Memories flashed through his mind, bones creaking as he swayed. For the first time in many, many years, the skeleton didn't know what to do. This child... he had to protect it. A new purpose had made itself clear to him, one better than gaurding the rusty iron doors he sat next to for all these years. He looked down at the child, a bony hand raised towards her head... as he set the hat in its proper place. Turning, he pushed against the iron doors, creaking and shuffling as it slowly opened to reveal a decorated chest sat upon a stone pedestal.
He pointed to the chest, rusty sword now against the wall. "You're giving it to me?" A simple nod was his response. There was no more need to prtoect it. He had a new treasure to protect, one far more valuable and far more important. The child opened the chest, pulling out a dusty spell tome, a dark green cloak, and a steel sword still in its sheath. Taking the tome, she handed the cloak and sword to him. "Here. These are for you." What was this called... gifts. They were gifts. People gave them to friends and family. Images rushed through his mind, flashes of a smiling woman and a laughing child. Family.
He donned the cloak and sheath, sheathing his old rusty sword in some of the vines that grew along him. She giggled, looking at the makeshift scabbard for his old sword. "You're funny. Hey, why don't you come with me? We could go on adventures together! Better than you being stuck in this dusty old place!" Adventure. He had gone on adventures, long ago. Yes, he would go. He would protect this girl. He gave her a nod, patting her shoulder. "I'll take that as a yes! Cmon, lets get out of here." She walked onwards, heading up a tunnel to the surface. Distant sunlight soon shone onto his skull, emerging onto a grassy plain. He stood for a moment, basking in the warm glow as the grass rustled around him. It felt... right.
"Come on! We have places to go!" She tugged at his hand, as they walked through the grass. "You're going to need a name you know. How about... William?" He liked this name. 'William' nodded, the closest thing to a smile he could manage ever so slightly gracing his skull. "William it is! I'm Adelita, by the way. We're gonna be great friends!"
The two continued walking, hand in hand.
(Might continue it, I kind of like the concept. | 2022-11-18T20:59:54 | 2022-11-18T08:15:04 | 16 | 12 |
[WP] An immortal human has lived , in secret, among humans. Now evolution has progressed enough that he no longer fits the normal appearance of a human being. | I used to love the forest. Now I've grown to hate it. I guess a steady diet of anything loses its appeal eventually. How long have I been alive? Countless years. My children and grandchildren are long dead and unremembered except by me. The others have all changed to the point where I am a monster by comparison. I'll never know love again. So I stay out here in the forest far away from all the others. Once in a great while one of them will find their way near to me and I hide. They are so loud, I can hear them miles off. Sometimes I hide and watch them. They are as alien to me as I am to them. I'm quiet and I'm patient so they never see me...usually. One time about forty summers ago, I was seen by one of them. I ran away, he just stared at me stupidly. Shortly after that, others came searching. They never found me. They left some garbage behind. I found a paper with my image on it. Apparently, they call me "Bigfoot". | God-damn relativity. I'm a freak. That's what I get for being a have-not
just enough to be unable to afford the non-relativistic drive system in my
home.
I touched down on New Earth last week and there was nobody like me in sight.
This had happened before, twice. Both times on New Earth, come to think of
it -- I guess they're progressive. But this time, I couldn't even find
anything on the ansible. Nothing -- every damn talking head had the wrong
skin, wrong lips, wrong.. soul. They just didn't *feel* right.
Hell, I guess they feel right enough to themselves. And to each other, really
-- they certain seem to get along a lot better than most of us did in what
I've come to call 'my day'. (I'm only chrono 47, dammit. -- that's what I get
for taking the long way around.)
I knew it was coming, but it finally happened -- not a damn inch of white skin
to be seen.
The kids laugh and point. I got the letter this morning -- an offer from the
School of Anthropology in a planet-side University to allow them to 'record my
experiences'. I know what that means -- an old (very, very old, now) writer
once called it vivisection, and wrote some pretty unsettling things about it.
They have nicer terminology these days, but I'm still not buying. | 2014-04-06T20:47:32 | 2014-04-06T16:27:47 | 69 | 10 |
[WP] A genie is about to concede you your second wish, but a paradox created by your first one prevents him from doing so. | The police sirens grew louder.
I stared at the Genie in horror. He looked back at me blankly.
"Is that okay?" he asked. "What you asked for, yeah? Working on the next one. Gimme a couple of minutes."
"God no. Oh God no. No."
Three police cars screeched to a halt just behind him.
"Just gotta concentrate for a few more secs." The Genie screwed his eyes shut and raised his chin.
"No, no you ca-"
The first of several policemen ran towards him. I stepped backwards from the growing pool of blood as the police converged.
The Genie flinched at the first grab. "Ouch! Gerroff! Lemme go! I've got a job to do." He was hauled away towards the police cars, still jabbering and waving as they tried to put handcuffs on him. Eventually they got him into one of the cars.
A policeman looked at the smashed naked body on the ground, and then at me. "Was this person known to you, sir?"
"No. God. Erm, I think I know who it is... I didn't mean... I just asked for the body of Adonis. And he just fell out of the sky..." I gestured upwards.
A thick grey lump of jelly, the size of a grapefruit, was heading straight for us.
"...And the brain of Leonardo da Vinci..." | 'Alright then, for my wish, I wish you were free!'
A whirlwind of history rained downed upon the room, as if Pandora's box were closing shut and all its contents were climbing over each other, racing to get back in before it was sealed forever. When the gust subsided, a little girl dressed in tattered Egyptian rags sat on the floor of the modern studio apartment.
'I'm... I'm free...?' she stared at her two hands in bewilderment, her porcelain eyes growing bigger with each passing second.
'Yes. Now fix me!' the wheelchair bound man screamed from the confines of his limp, immobile body. 'Fix me like we agreed!!'
The girl raised her hands as she had done countless times in the centuries before, and took a deep breath. But this time, nothing happened. She tried again. Nothing.
'What???' the high pitched screams of the corpse-like figure got higher and higher. 'What's wrong?? Didn't you say I would still have unlimited wishes until midnight if I set you free? I fix you, and you fix me! That was the deal!!!'
'Yes,' the girl took a step forward to the figure, 'but I forgot to mention that the person who wishes a genie free... becomes the next genie.' An eerie smile creeped upon her lips. 'And we all know how genies can't wish for wishes themselves.'
The old man stared at the girl with a mixture of horror and disbelief. 'I... I'm the next genie..?' He looked down upon his two frail hands, hands that had never served him well since birth. He still couldn't comprehend the magnitude of what she had just said. He was... a what? A genie?
A flitter of movement in the shadows broke his train of thought. He looked up, slightly disoriented. It was the girl.
Cradling the lamp in her arms.
And then it hit him.
*'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!'* | 2014-07-07T06:59:01 | 2014-07-07T06:55:29 | 39 | 18 |
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