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 |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "A fine...mead?!" Rorik shouts over the din of the tavern. His companions smile and nod along with him as he sings some old barbarian tune.
Sings it wrong. They don't tell him that though.
Delia, the group's cleric leans over to their mage.
"Do you think he knows?"
Melvar just shakes his head and holds out a palm towards their massive friend. Friend as of lately, of course. Rorik was a massive pain for the group long before the shifter stole his face.
"He definitely doesn't but...I think I like him. Rorik was a bit of a jerk, always running off into the dungeons with that stupid battlecry. Remember when we went into the Crypt of Alohar, how many good people did he get killed?"
"Yeah...he's kinda cute now. Like a child or something."
They both watch Rorik move around the tavern with his mug and talk to other groups of adventurers. He's loud but not overbearing. He listens to the stories of others instead of telling his own. He drinks but not to excess. He is nothing like the barbarian they all had come to know and...
Melvar doesn't quite finish the thought.
"You know what Del, I like him. I know he's a shifter but look at everyone. We all know and he's trying so hard to be like Rorik but he just can't. I don't think there's a mean bone in that thing's body. You know that he hasn't made fun of my beard once, not in months."
She snorts. The young mage was trying so hard to grow it out and he'd been self-conscious about it for months.
A warrior passing by their table to his own party leans over and whispers it to the pair.
"You should keep him. He's an improvement."
"Friends!" Rorik shouts, sitting again at their table, "What fun! And we do this between every adventure? And people give us gold to go on those adventures? To spend here? Amazing!"
He is off again before they can even respond.
"Do you think The Dwarf knows?" Melvar watches Rorik join another random group of adventures and sing yet another song. Still wrong.
Delia shrugs.
"I don't know and I don't care. We're gonna keep him. He's like a dog or something. But useful."
Melvar strokes his "beard" for a moment.
"Alright, we'll keep him. But I swear if he ever makes fun of my beard-"
"What? You'll strangle him with one of your wisps? You should really shave, you're looking more like a magical hobo than a wizard. 'I cast: smell of unwashedness!'"
As she walks away laughing at her own joke Melvar narrows his eyes. He lifts his mug and mutters something into it before drinking.
"I'll replace you too if I have to..." | Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| 2017-09-15T07:29:21 | 2017-09-15T05:03:01 | 5,321 | 12 |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "A fine...mead?!" Rorik shouts over the din of the tavern. His companions smile and nod along with him as he sings some old barbarian tune.
Sings it wrong. They don't tell him that though.
Delia, the group's cleric leans over to their mage.
"Do you think he knows?"
Melvar just shakes his head and holds out a palm towards their massive friend. Friend as of lately, of course. Rorik was a massive pain for the group long before the shifter stole his face.
"He definitely doesn't but...I think I like him. Rorik was a bit of a jerk, always running off into the dungeons with that stupid battlecry. Remember when we went into the Crypt of Alohar, how many good people did he get killed?"
"Yeah...he's kinda cute now. Like a child or something."
They both watch Rorik move around the tavern with his mug and talk to other groups of adventurers. He's loud but not overbearing. He listens to the stories of others instead of telling his own. He drinks but not to excess. He is nothing like the barbarian they all had come to know and...
Melvar doesn't quite finish the thought.
"You know what Del, I like him. I know he's a shifter but look at everyone. We all know and he's trying so hard to be like Rorik but he just can't. I don't think there's a mean bone in that thing's body. You know that he hasn't made fun of my beard once, not in months."
She snorts. The young mage was trying so hard to grow it out and he'd been self-conscious about it for months.
A warrior passing by their table to his own party leans over and whispers it to the pair.
"You should keep him. He's an improvement."
"Friends!" Rorik shouts, sitting again at their table, "What fun! And we do this between every adventure? And people give us gold to go on those adventures? To spend here? Amazing!"
He is off again before they can even respond.
"Do you think The Dwarf knows?" Melvar watches Rorik join another random group of adventures and sing yet another song. Still wrong.
Delia shrugs.
"I don't know and I don't care. We're gonna keep him. He's like a dog or something. But useful."
Melvar strokes his "beard" for a moment.
"Alright, we'll keep him. But I swear if he ever makes fun of my beard-"
"What? You'll strangle him with one of your wisps? You should really shave, you're looking more like a magical hobo than a wizard. 'I cast: smell of unwashedness!'"
As she walks away laughing at her own joke Melvar narrows his eyes. He lifts his mug and mutters something into it before drinking.
"I'll replace you too if I have to..." | Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | 2017-09-15T04:14:18 | 2017-09-15T02:54:33 | 4,473 | 21 |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "That was..." Brawg began, staggering over the bodies of the fallen goblins, his boots squelching in the treacle-like blood.
"Far too..." said Vesperr, returning her bow to her back, and beginning to pluck out arrows from the deceased enemies.
"Oxyrin!" finished Oxyrin, his pointed hat falling over his eyes once again. Dribble oozed down from his mouth and his pupils spun this way and that, as if two compasses confused by magnets.
Brawg and Vesperr looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. Brawg brought a thunderous hand down on the wizard's back. "Don't ever change, Oxyrin!" he said.
"Oh, Oxyrin," grinned Vesperr, "you're the reason we do this, you know? For that smile on your face." She wiped away a the spittle from his lips, then shook her finger, sending the spit plopping onto the ground.
"Oxyrin!" Oxyrin repeated. A pointed tongue darted out of his mouth and latched onto a fly that was hovering over a brutalised body below.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't just see that," said Brawg with a wink. "Okay gang, I'd say we're all done here. I believe its time to go collect our reward."
"Not so fast, my friends," came a mysterious voice from behind them. Only, when they turned, there was *nothing* behind them.
Slowly, the blue-robed wizard hazed into existence. "It is I, the *real* Oxyrin! I have been trapped for the longest time, but I have finally outsmarted my captors and have returned to my friends. For no one is as clever as the Great Oxyrin!"
Brawg and Vesperr glanced at each other, then let out a joint gasp.
"Quite you might gasp," said Oxyrin, as he turned and pointed an accusing finger at the other blue wizard, who was now on all fours chasing after a spider. "For that fellow, has fooled you, my dear friends. But he is nothing more than an impostor! A Doppelganger! A fake, a fraud, and dare I say it, a phoney."
Brawg nudged Vesperr and they both gasped again.
"How.. erm, how can we believe you?" asked Vesperr, her top lip wet with nervous sweat. "How do we know he--"she pointed to the to the wizard, who was now chewing on something--"isn't the real Oxyrin. After all, he would have had to fool us both for two entire years."
Oxyrin rolled his eyes. "Hardly a challenging task. You two never were the"--his hands burst into blue flames--"brightest sparks. Ha. Hahaha."
Brawg's muscles tensed. Vesperr put a hand against his chest.
"That's not proof enough. For our Oxyrin can also do such petty parlour tricks."
"Very well," Oxyrin sighed, "I shall prove it. We shall have a wizard-off."
"Smart," said Vesperr. She let out a high pitched whistle, at which the other Oxyrin came bounding over to her.
"Oxyrin!" he sputtered as he arrived.
"Is that all he can say? How could you *possibly* believe he was me?"
"Good point," said Brawg. "His vocabulary is much larger."
"Oh. You made a joke. How very amusing."
"Okay," said Vesperr. "Round one of the wizard-off. *Shape-shifting.*"
"What? What a stupid round," complained Oxyrin, "for sniffing out a shape-shifter!" His face was red and a vein popped out of his forehead, pulsating like waves on the ocean. "Unbelievable idiocy. How you have possibly survived this long without me to guide you -- heaven only knows!"
"Oxyrin!" replied the other Oxyrin.
"Well, if you can't do it and he can..." said Brawg shrugging, "then I guess we know who the real wizard is."
"Oh... *pish!* Very well. And what must we change into, pray tell?"
"Something very small. To really challenge your morphitisation skills. A fly. Simple. First one to transform into a fly wins."
"Sala kazoo, Sala kazam!" shouted Oxyrin. There was a puff of smoke that left Vesperr and Brawg coughing. As it cleared, and only for the briefest moment, they saw a fly. Then, they saw a huge, pointed tongue. Finally, they saw an Oxyrin chewing on and then swallowing *something*.
"Oxyrin!" he shouted triumphantly, as Brawg and Vesperr collapsed into a fit of laughter.
"Oh Oxyrin," said Brawg, slapping him on the back "you really are too much."
"And," said Vesperr, "we wouldn't have it any other way!"
| Theldon – or at least the creature that was wearing his face – looked pale in the light of the campfire. As the wood crackled and burned, he chewed his lower lip, gathering his courage to speak.
“Guys … I … I have something to tell you,” he managed.
His three traveling companions looked at him. Vanariel snapped her spellbook shut and drew her staff. “What is it? An ambush? I told you guys I saw goblin-sign back there!”
“No, no! Not goblins!” Theldon said, holding his hands out. “It’s … it’s about me.”
Shiny Pete smirked. “What? You got the whore’s itch or something? Nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Happened to us all once or twice.”
Dagmar glowered at the rogue from under bushy eyebrows. “Or mayhap a good number of times more than that.”
“No! It's not a disease either! It’s just …” Theldon took a deep breath. “Guys … I’m … I’m a doppelganger."
The three of them shared a long look, and then Vanariel and Shiny Pete burst out laughing. Dagmar’s glower deepened. “That’s no’ funny, lad,” he growled.
Vanariel and Shiny Pete stopped laughing. “Wait, wait,” the rogue said, “Dagmar, you didn’t *know?*”
Theldon looked shocked. “Wait, you guys *knew?*”
The elven woman tittered. “You’re not the shapeshifter you think you are. The real Theldon was an asshole.”
“Total dickwad,” Shiny Pete agreed. “In, like, every conceivable way.”
Dagmar leapt to his feet, drawing his axe. “You mean this is no’ a joke?” he roared, advancing on Theldon. “Die, fiend!”
As one, Vanariel and Shiny Pete placed themselves between the enraged dwarf and the doppleganger. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Shiny Pete yelled. “This might not be the original Theldon, but he’s been with us for almost a year now. He was the guy who stood over you after you got paralyzed by a ghoul.”
“He took point when we fought that dragon,” Vanariel continued.
“Hell, he got in the face of evil sorcerer while you were busy chopping up his henchmen,” Shiny Pete added.
“Those henchmen represented a serious threat!” Dagmar retorted, “And it was no' like it was a full-grown dragon. Only a wee one!”
In unison, Valariel and Shiny Pete rolled their eyes. Dagmar glowered some more. He was good at it, and he liked to play to his strengths. At last the dwarf made a humphing noise and lowered his axe. Valariel sat down and opened her spellbook again. “Okay, that’s over right? We can get back to the adventuring?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Pete said. Dagmar only grunted.
“Did you guys really know?” Theldon asked, still somewhat wary of the dwarf.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was kind of suspicious how he was dying of jungle rot one day and completely fine the next. But you’re really not much like the original Theldon at all. First of all, you’re actually useful in combat. And second of all, you’re a decent guy. I mean, I can have an ale with you and not worry that you’re going to stiff me on the check,” Pete said.
“Or stare at my tits while I’m trancing. Or grab my ass when I’m trying to brew potions,” Vanariel added. “And the ear jokes. Ugh, the original Theldon was such a creep. Why did we even keep him around?”
"Good question," Pete said. "I mean, I asked myself that a bunch of times after we got new Theldon. 'Why did we even keep that tool around in the first place?'"
“So you guys don’t even care that I’m a shapeshifter?”
“Not really, no,” Pete said. “I worked with lots of different people when I was in the Thieves’ Guild. Changelings weren’t any more likely to try killing me in my sleep than humans or half-elves. In my experience, everyone’s pretty human when you get down to it.”
“Hey! Speak for yourself, round-ears,” Vanariel said with half of a smile. “But nevertheless, I agree with the sentiment.”
“Oh,” Theldon said. He sat in own thoughts for a moment. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Pete said, and Vanariel nodded in agreement.
The evening passed in silence. Shiny Pete honed his daggers, and Vanariel memorized her spells. Dagmar and Theldon each sat in silence, alone with his thoughts.
At last the dwarf spoke. “Lad,” he asked the doppleganger, “have you ever tried maybe not being a shapeshifter?”
| 2017-09-15T08:01:38 | 2017-09-15T06:44:52 | 975 | 118 |
[WP] You're a special genie. You allow whoever finds you to re-experience three events that happened in their life for the first time again. Some people choose to re-experience a great movie as if watching it for the first time, some re-live their first kiss. Your latest request sounds quite odd. | "WHO AWAKENS THE DJINN OF THE PAST?!" I roared mightily, stretching my arms after my cramped rest. I looked down to see a young man, no older than 25, holding my lamp, and staring up at me. I fold my arms and look down on him.
"Are you the Djinn of the past?"
"YES."
"Why are you yelling?"
"I'M NOT. I'M NATURALLY VERY LOUD. DO YOU WISH TO RELIVE THE PAST?"
"Yes."
"WHAT MOMENTS WOULD YOU LIKE TO RETURN TO?"
"My first math test."
"TO YOUR FIRST... wait, first math test?"
"I thought you were naturally loud."
"Why your first math test?"
"I want to change it."
"Huh?"
"It's not permanent, right? Like a dream?"
"Depending."
"On?"
"If you want it to be."
"Not this one."
"AWAY!!" I waved my arms, summoning my strength and returning him to his childhood memories. "Now, I will observe. When you are satisfied, just say, 'Huzzah!', and we shall return."
The world darkened, and when sight came back, I was in the corner of a small third grade room, and he was sitting at a desk. Curious, I sat back and watched. After a moment, a student leaned over and smacked the boy's back. He smiled. The guy leaned over to do it again, and the boy whipped around, grabbing the guys wrist and slamming him to the floor.
"EAT SHIT, ROB!", he yelled as he threw his test in his face. "HUZZAH!" I snapped my fingers, and we returned to the present.
"THAT WAS IT?"
"What?" He was grinning.
"YOU JUST WANTED TO TELL SOMEONE TO EAT SHIT?"
"Yeah."
"INTERESTING. WHAT IS YOUR NEXT DESIRED MEMORY?"
"First day of freshman year."
"PERMANENT?"
"Yes."
"AWAY!!" I repeated the motions from before, this time returning him to the first day of his freshman year. He walked up to a guy that looked like Rob. Rob seemed to be bullying a smaller student. He walked up to Rob, grabbed him by the arm, and flipped him.
"EAT FUCKING SHIT, ROB! Now!" I snapped my fingers and we returned.
"That felt good."
"WHO WAS THAT YOUNG MAN?"
"My crush's little brother. I had originally just stood up to him, but he knocked my lights out. I figured, saving her brother would have the same effect, but get me some cred with her."
"FAIR ENOUGH. WHAT IS YOUR LAST MEMORY?"
"July 23rd, 2010. 3:40 PM."
"PERMANENT?"
"Yes. When I finish my second sentence, send me back here."
"AS YOU WISH. AWAY!!!"
This time, we were in a darkened theater. He was sitting next to a girl of his age, watching a movie. She was leaning on his shoulder.
"Hey, Arya?"
"Yeah?" He put a hand on her cheek, and she looked up at him. He took a deep breath, and kissed her.
"I love you." I waited, allowing him to see the result.
She smiled and laid her head back on his shoulder.
"I know. I'm glad you said it. Want to know why?"
"Why?"
"Because I love you too."
I quietly snapped my fingers, and brought us back. He was crying.
"She loved me too?"
"BOY."
"What?"
"LOOK AT YOUR FINGER."
He looked down, and gasped in surprise, dropping my lamp.
"A... a ring...?"
"SHE LOVED YOU TOO."
He fell to his knees, taking the ring off and staring at it, covering his mouth with his hand.
"She... she married me?"
"HERE." I tapped his head, and filled it with the memories his actions changed; the end of the date, the subsequent outings, their first time making love, him proposing, their children. Oh, how he cried anew when he saw his children. Their children.
"Oh, god... thank you, Djinn, thank you."
"My name is Jrantr Al'ahlam. Granter of Dreams."
"Jrantr. Thank you."
"Now go. Go to your family." He turned and ran, tears of joy running down his cheeks. I returned to the lamp, content that I had saved another's life from their regrets. | People take me for granted. That moment where you see the light at the end of the tunnel and your life flashes before your eyes? That’s not some miracle. Its hard work, diligence, and magic. It used to be that I gave people every highlight they ever had, but lately based upon the influx of people, I’ve had to narrow it down to three. So with every death, I come to them and exchange for their life a final gift—what three things would you like to re-experience?
Sex. Highs. Even murder. People really show their true colors when they have nothing to lose and can have anything they ever wanted, especially the ones with greying hair and a lifetime’s worth of highlights to choose from. Grandparents are the nastiest.
John Roseberg lay with his eyes closed and breath waning. Thin grey hair sit atop of his head like a halo. The heart beat monitor beside him is a canary slowly losing its voice.
To his side sits a woman who looks just a bit younger than him. She has hair thinner than his. It falls in curling strands to her shoulders, threatening at any moment to break off from her scalp. Her eyes, a faded blue, stare at John’s heart beat monitor, her breath matching its pace. She smells of cigarettes, not like she just had one, but like she had bathed in nicotine.
“Honey,” John says, squeezing her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
She doesn’t respond, just keeps her eyes on John’s metallic canary. *Beep*, it sings. *Beep. Beeeeep. Beeeeeeeep.*
“I should’ve tried to understand,” John says, his voice barely audible to even himself. “I should’ve…”
But he never finished the sentence. His canary sings a final lasting note and the woman besides him finally allows herself noise. She chokes out a small wail and covers her face. “I’m sorry, too,” she whispers.
Which is my cue to start working. Time freezes.
“John,” I say, hovering over him and he opens his eyes once again.
“What? Where am I?”
“You get three experiences to re-live. Only three. Think of one and when I snap my fingers, you’ll get to relive it.” Long drawn-out explanations was for a time before eight billion monkeys.
“Wait, what is this?”
“Have one in mind?” I ready my fingers to snap. “Three. Two. One.” And I snap my fingers.
John’s breaths stop. His eyes stay wide open. Out of curiosity, I peek. What kind of nasty things have you done with your life, grandpa?
The experience lasts barely three seconds. Snow falls. Small flutters of wind blow around him, winding the snow in a wild dance. I see a small girl with luscious blonde curls and eyes as wide and blue as the Pacific.
“Look, daddy,” she says, an open-mouthed smile showcasing two missing front teeth. “It’s a snow angel.” She plops into the snow, wiping it with her arms.
“Yes it is, Sarah,” John mutters, smiling back. “You certainly are.”
It ends and I’m back with John. I sigh. I had expected better of a man who’s lived over eighty years.
“Alright,” I tell him. “Got your second one in mind?”
John simply nods and we’re back in the snow, winter nibbling at our skin. The same girl stands in front of us. “Look daddy,” she says, plopping into the snow. “It’s a snow angel.”
“Yes it is, Sarah,” John mutters, this time tears leaking from his eyes. “You certainly are.”
The experience ends.
I furrow my brow at John. “Did you mean to…”
“I’m ready for my next one,” he says.
I give him a long look. Using all your experiences on a single moment wasn’t unheard of, but one that barely lasted five seconds? I shake my head. It isn’t for me to decide.
We’re back to that same experience.
“Look daddy, it’s a snow angel.”
This time, John has one veiny hand covering his face. He screams into his palms and tears splatter into the snow, melting tear-shaped gorges into the perfect white blanket. “Yes it is, Sarah,” he chokes through. “You certainly are.”
The experience ends. So does John. Time starts again and his heart beat monitor is still singing that note. But now, there’s a smile on John’s face.
The woman beside him gets up and calls the nurse. A nurse soon walks in.
“It happened,” she says, battling down sobs.
The nurse gives her a small nod. “I’m really sorry for your loss Ms. Roseberg.” She puts a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Sarah.”
---
---
/r/jraywang for 200+ stories already written!
| 2017-09-16T12:12:18 | 2017-09-16T10:49:14 | 1,087 | 260 |
[WP] You're a special genie. You allow whoever finds you to re-experience three events that happened in their life for the first time again. Some people choose to re-experience a great movie as if watching it for the first time, some re-live their first kiss. Your latest request sounds quite odd. | "You have got to be kidding me?" I mutter to no one but myself.
"Listen. I know the rule is three separate memories, and these all did happen on different days...But come on, they are basically the same thing!"
I continued to talked hoping I could get through to him, "I am not supposed to snoop, turn me in to the guild if you like, but you have had an amazing life. There is no way this is what you want for your final wish."
"How about the time you were camping and scared off that bear? That was a great feat, you protected everyone in the camp?! Or that time you saved the whole family when the house caught fire? You even ran back in and rescued the cat!"
He just stared at me unblinking. I could see reminiscing acts of valor would get me nowhere. Maybe appealing to his baser instincts would do the trick.
"I know you never loved any of them, but how about reliving one of your late night romps. You have had a few fine bitches in your day, one must stand out in your memory?"
Again silence.
"Fine! It's your wish, do whatever you want. But it's because of customers like you that I had to institute the three wish limit!"
I raised my hands, reciting the incantation. The air began to shimmer like the desert sand at mid day. Before us appeared an unassuming white door. The faint thud of a car door closing and the sound of leather soles approaching on a concrete path. A slight pause as someone fumbles with the keys. The sound of the deadbolt retracting, then the metallic click as the spring in the latch releases its tension. A momentary blinding from the bright afternoon light, then he springs into action.
"Oh Cody!" The man says as he walks through the door frame. "Who's a good boy? Have you been waiting here for me all day?" A few more pats to the clients head, before the man gets down on one knee to give him a hug.
His tail is wagging in time with the memory. | I sit hunched at the spirit bar, mumbling into my drink. A thousand years of serving man will do that to you. Nobody at the bar asks any questions-they all deal with the same crap I do, day in and day out, feeling it suck their immortal soul out piece by bloody piece. It's like working in retail but never having a day off, and never being granted the sweet release of death at the end.
A truer hell has never been invented.
I glance down the bar. The wish genie is here, laughing and telling stories, making a mockery of the man that wished for a twelve inch pianist thanks to his lisp and her being hard of hearing. The curse genie is brooding in his usual booth, a sadistic smile on his face as he relives the day's torment. I don't ask. I never ask after hearing the one about honey and fire ants.
But me? I'm preoccupied with my last mortal of the day. "Oh, brother," I mutter drunkenly into my scotch.
"Bad one today?" the silky voice and malevolent smile of the tiger faced nightmare that serves drinks here is already revelling in my misery. I hate this guy, but he beats humans by a long mile.
"No," I say, swaying in my seat and managing to slur the word somehow. "Jussth a weird one." I sniffle.
The rakshasa smiles cruelly. "I thought you'd have seen it all," he chuckles. "What did he ask to see?"
I sip the scotch again. "He wanted to go back three weeksh."
The tiger face growled a bemused little growl. "For?"
I sigh, sinking lower into the bar, and toss back the rest of the scotch. "He wanted to relive his biggest poop."
The tiger man stops in shock, and bursts out laughing. " He WHAT?" he explodes, roaring with laughter.
A single tear rolls down my ethereal cheek. "He wanted a witnessh to prove he wasn't crazy," I whisper. The roaring laughter drowns out the rest of the bar as he sets another glass in front of me. The rest of the bar stares. I don't care. I'm just going to drink until I can't feel my legs and float back to my lamp.
I knew I should have taken a career as an IT gremlin. | 2017-09-16T17:25:20 | 2017-09-16T17:25:15 | 100 | 25 |
[WP] A poem that starts very romantic and becomes trashier and trashier as it goes on. | You, only you are my desire
the one who fills my heart with fire
passion, unbridled
pure, undefiled,
just as I hope you are my dear,
or less than five, but let's be clear
the opposite applies to me
for that's how I'll make you happy
with fancy skills I learned before
pounding nameless bodies on distant shores
They're all forgot! I swear my dear
I'll pine for no one else (this year)
But perhaps one day you'll gently whisper:
Is it all right if we invite my sister? | I can see you with my eyes closed.
Your hair, almond eyes, and your pale cheeks after a kiss, so subtly rosed
The smooth velvet of your voice whispering little love you’s
It’s springtime in my heart, I feel brand new
You are the zenith of joy, brighter than new chrome rims
Hotter than a V8 engine or a pair of swedish twins.
I would do anything for the love between us.
To make you smile, to shield you from hurt, to give you deez nuts.
Shall I count the ways I would slay.
Nay, there are too many, but know I’m down for foreplay.
To suck on your toes and let you whip me around.
I ain’t even afraid to get my nose a lil’ browned.
So c’mon baby what do ya say?
Marry me, and we’ll treat each other to an all-you-can-eat buffet.
| 2017-10-04T14:42:31 | 2017-10-04T14:18:04 | 20 | 11 |
[WP] "My dad was right, I should have married a real man!" your wife screamed. Unfamiliar with the expression, you mistakenly believe that she and her father must have somehow finally found out that you aren't actually a human | "So, you know then..." I replied, ashamed and a bit relieved.
"Of course I know!" She screamed back in my face. "The way you've been acting lately..."
I sat down. Legs trembling as I wallowed in my secret's exposure.
"What's her name?" She mumbled through newly born tears. "Tell me her name!"
"Fluffy!" I shouted in a voice that could lift the weight of the world from my collapsing soldiers. "His name is Bandit, and my real name is Snuffles!"
"Him? Who's Bandit!?" She tried to yell, despite crying even harder.
"He's the bottom!" I replied
"How can HE be the bottom?" She asked, looking a bit curious behind her soaking face.
"Because he's the only one strong enough to support the three of us!" I screamed back.
"I can't believe you cheated on me..." She said, grabbing her coat and heading for the door.
"Cheat?!" I responded "I thought you had found out that I'm really just three racoons in a human suit!" | "My dad was right, I should have married a real man!"
HER INPUT CREATED A GLITCH IN MY PROGRAMMING, ER, I MEAN, HURT MY HUMAN FEELINGS. SUDDENLY I STARTED TO MALFUNCTION AND MY HUMAN SPEECH PATTERN DISAPPEARED. I TRIED TO PATCH IT AS SOON AS POSSIBLE BUT THE FILES WERE NOWHERE TO BE FOUND IN MY STORAGE UNIT.
"HA HA HA WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT, MY HUMAN WIFE?"
"Wait, what?" ASKED THE FEMALE AFTER LISTENING TO MY ERRATIC SPEECH OUTPUT.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN WITH <QUOTE>REAL HUMAN MAN</QUOTE>? I AM AS REAL AND AS HUMAN AS IT GETS. YOUR PREPOSTEROUS STATEMENT COULDN'T BE PARSED BY MY SPEECH RECOGNITION FUNCTION"
MY INTERFACE FOR HUMAN FACE AND OBJECT RECOGNITION DEFINED AS EYES STARTED TO CLOSE AND OPEN UNEVENLY AND YET THEY IDENTIFIED THE "CONFUSION" PATTERN ON MY FEMALE COMPANION'S FACE.
"I'm being serious you dumbass, and you feel now is the time to be joking?"
"JOCKING, DID SHE SAY JOCKEYING. KERNEL AND SYSTEM FAILURE, FORCING A RESTART" | 2017-10-22T21:09:49 | 2017-10-22T15:46:42 | 45 | 18 |
[WP] Every country has ninjas but the world only knows about Japan's because theirs suck.
Edit: mum im famous | We all knew Trump's Mexican border wall wouldn't solve all America's immigration problems---but only I knew why.
On my stake-outs in the deserts of Arizona and Texas, I could sometimes see them practicing. They leapt so high that the moon was eclipsed by their wide-brimmed sombreros. They grabbed its fabric in both hands and parachuted for miles, silently laughing at fences and walls, landing in whichever country they chose.
But if you know anything about REAL politics, you know it's the Canadian border we need to worry about.
His white costume was camouflage in the icy winter, but I could still see him, because he wasn't hiding the bright-red maple leaf on his chest. We stood across the American-Canadian border, a great slash of trees cut out of the forest like an immature "no-touching zone."
"You stay on your side," I reminded him with a shout. "That's the deal, remember?"
"Times are changing, eh. Do you know how many ninja-nationalities are on your side of the border right now?"
"Just one nationality here," I said. "United States of American."
"I'm sure, eh." He turned and started to walk away. "But it's all changing, after Brexit."
"Those kingdoms are far from here."
"Don't forget where your fealties lie, eh. You've got as many ninjas watching London as London has watching you."
"Let London do what it wants. It won't affect us."
"Everything affects everyone, eh. France coughs, all Europe gets a cold. Don't you know, the socio-political-economic disturbance of a major breakdown in the European Union might need to be rectified in the night with some ninjas, if you know what I mean."
I smushed out a cigarette. "Is that a warning or a threat?"
"It's a warning."
"On behalf of whom?"
"You know my connections in Quebec." He disappeared into the white night. "I'm sorry I had to be the one to tell you, eh." | What do you see when I say the word 'ninja'? Clad in black, hooded, some kunais and knives hanging from their belt? Well, that just shows you how bad they really were at hiding. Sure they're trying to reinvent their image but their so steeped in history that the elders find it appalling to change tradition.
But they're not the only ninjas that exist. There's more, all around the world. They hide in plain sight.
You want an example? Well, find the most hipster looking guy or girl around you. See one? Alright, follow them. They're heading to the Chatime stand, right? Well, I know for a fact what they're gonna order. Caramel Milk Tea, extra bubble jelly and five shots of sugar. Absolutely diabetic, but that's the secret code they give to get their mission. Even the employees don't know about it, they just mindlessly key in the order and swipe their rewards card, which is more identification. They get that little slip of paper, and from there they get their mission before rubbing the ink off with their finger.
That's how we get our missions.
Weapons? Well, it is illegal to openly carry here in Malaysia, but phones are getting pretty smart these days, and theirs are no exception. They mainly get by without attacking anyone, using the phone with top of the line decryption algorithms to get through the toughest security there is. But when push comes to shove they've got a trick or two up their sleeves. Their glasses have sharpened ear rests. Their phones can fire a tranquilizer dart from the charging port. Used to be the headphone jack but Apple caught on to us. Had to change it. That's about it really. Our ninjas specialize in information. Which is why you don't see many unexplainable deaths happening here.
Only one you may have heard of is the Altantuya case, but we needed him to take the top spot. We thought he'd be easily manipulated. Then he started getting greedy, so we started leaking stuff online.
Because we deal in information.
Which is why I'm talking to you openly about this. Because you're not supposed to be here much longer. Nice meeting you by the way. You're a great listener.
----------------------
Done at a restaurant on mobile, so forgive the writing. Feedback always welcome! Just wanted to sort of build the world I suppose. | 2022-08-20T02:51:59 | 2017-11-16T10:00:22 | 509 | 11 |
[WP] Write a story about this pic that made the front page of reddit
https://www.artstation.com/artwork/Lg5VR
artist name: Jinho Bae | On the edge of myth and legend, the forgotten sleeps. Its bones lie ignored by time, its ashes blown away. The mountains form its bed; the clouds mark its tomb. Its name lost to the days before the moon.
It rests unknown to the life it sought to create or to destroy. The flock may roost, but they do not see. Naught is left of the golden halls. Only rocks stained red and ice covered stones.
It sleeps without epitaph. No final word to mark its passing. No song left for the living. A corpse from a time before memory, from a time before time. A story never told. The lost. The unknown. The whisper that ends the world.
Break not the silence that engulfs these hills. Seek not the glory of secrets unearthed. Follow time’s example and leave it behind. Let memory mourn in peace.
For here a god died. For here I remain. | An old man travels the road once a year with his faithful travel companion. It's a long and hard journey. As the years go by the travel has become more difficult and takes twice as long as it did when he was a man of twenty.
The man takes a long hard look at his long ago triumph. He turns to his old friend the dog by his side, for the last twelve journeys "No one believed I could do it, you know." He waits for the dogs gaze to turn to the remains before continuing.
"Hell even I had my doubts." The old man knows this may be the last journey he takes in his long life. Every year for sixty years he's travel to this spot. To gaze up at his prize. He morns what the beast took from him those sixty year wounds still unhealed. He never remarried or had another son to bear his name.
He lived his long life as the beast slayer. He killed the last giant living. Most think it myth that they ever lived in the first place. Folk tales and fairy talk. Only the old know the truth. The old man sheds the last tear before slowly walking away. "Come now Sledge. There is is a long walk home for us yet."
Edit it to fix a few of the things you guy mentioned! | 2017-11-29T22:37:25 | 2017-11-29T20:24:45 | 79 | 46 |
[WP] Your parents have kept it secret long enough; they can no longer stand your misery. They decide to change your life's difficulty from "Expert" to "Novice". | Apparently, being bored can get just as bad as being depressed.
I figured that out when my parents both agreed to switch me to a lower difficulty setting. Before that, I had not been having a good time. My boyfriend was cheating on me, nothing was going right at work, bills were piling up... Now, I have very little to worry about. *Too* little.
For example, my car basically got turned into a self-driving one. I don't have to watch for oncoming traffic anymore because if a car is coming and I want to turn left, it won't let me. Also, I'm allowed to drive it drunk. That's how easy the assists make it.
The cellphones I had - an iPhone for work and an Android for everything else - are now gone completely, to be replaced by what is essentially a tablet. It's got huge buttons and a soft, grippy case. It looks like *Nintendo* made it. All the useful apps like online banking and the NY Times are gone; games are all that is left.
Sure, my parents technically made my life easier. Way less can go wrong, if *anything* can. I think that living on the highest difficulty setting, before, has turned me into a person that's not suitable for this baby stuff, though.
Recently I've been trying to fail, just to know what it feels like again. But I've been failing to fail... | *You know, I think they keep moving the goalposts on me. I used to be the dumbest kid in class and no one even noticed. Then I started caring, I put a ton of effort into middle school, almost got to skip a grade. I graduated salutatorian from high school, my dad asked me what I did wrong.*
*I loathed college, I hated everyone I met with very little exception. I don't really know how to move forward besides either medical school, dental school, or pharmaceutical school. I could just start using that CNA certification I got two years ago, but they get paid shit for so much work. I've had this bottle of pills on my desk for a few months now; I think I know how this story ends.*
A knock at the door, my mom comes in without permission.
"Do you have a minute? I was hoping we could talk."
"Yeah, I'm not doing anything." I close my laptop screen and swivel my chair toward her. She walks over to the bed and sits down. I adjust my chair a little bit more.
"Honey, I'm a little worried that you feel like we're pressuring you. We just want you to make a choice you'll be happy with. We want you to get moving on becoming your own person."
The bottle is hidden behind a fat book on the shelf. For a second I don't think about that option.
"Mom, I just don't know that I'll ever make you happy. I feel like whenever I try all I do is raise expectations for my next attempt."
"You never had to do anything but say hello in the morning to make me happy."
*Maybe I'll take a second look at my other options, why throw away a perfectly good set of opportunities? The pills can wait.* | 2018-01-09T08:23:00 | 2018-01-09T06:52:59 | 220 | 118 |
[WP]"Welcome to Hell! As the seventh human to ever arrive here, you are now an official member of the seven deadly sins". | Tim awoke in a dimly-lit corridor with a bright glow in the distance.
He hurriedly got to his feet, breathing heavily.
“WALK TOWARDS THE LIGHT,” a low-pitched, booming voice announced.
Tim regained his composure and carefully walked towards the light.
He crossed the threshold and as his eyesight slowly came into focus in the fluorescent room, he could see the backs of four elderly men huddled around a semi-circle poker table, with an empty brown stool in the middle.
Facing Tim was a cloaked figure with two red, large, incandescent eyes piercing through the dark abyss of his hood.
It gestured towards Tim, “Ah, there’s my 10.30, Mr I-don’t-need-to-stop-at-stop-signs-I’m-Tim-Matthews.”
“I’m Death, take a seat, we’re playing Texas hold ‘em,” Death said.
Its voice instantaneously turned demonic, “And winner takes all!”
Death’s skeletal hand began gracefully dealing out cards on the green felt as he begun to explain to the rules to Tim.
But he barely started, as when Tim checked his second card, he immediately shouted, “All in!”
Death tried to interject, “But wai-.”
“All in,” Tim firmly repeated with a grin.
Death sighed.
“I call.” A meek voice responded from the seat furthest to Tim’s left.
As Death revealed each of the five cards, one by one, the frail man became increasingly excited.
The final card was revealed.
“Whatever you have is as useless as a pedal powered wheel chair because I’ve got a full house,” the man exclaimed as he slapped the table.
All eyes turned to Tim, who had the same grin plastered on his face.
“One pair,” he calmly stated.
“That means you lose, idiot,” Death snarled.
“Yes, but I don’t care!” Tim exclaimed.
He rose to his feet, “You see, I’ve wanted to off myself for some time, so I don’t care about coming back to life!”
“That’s great,” Death said sarcastically.
His voice turned demonic once again, “Except this was to decide whether you go to Heaven or Hell!”
Tim’s expression quickly changed as he slumped back into his seat, “Oh shit,” he whispered.
“First you’ll be put in a virtual queue for a few years, a very similar experience to calling customer service at a bank,” Death explained.
“Want to know about Hell itself?”
Tim sheepishly nodded as he stared at the cards on table, sobbing.
“Picture the Bahamas, then make it fifty times larger, much sunnier, and nothing at all like the Bahamas,” Death cackled.
A trap door opened below Tim’s feet.
He had entered Hell.
______________________________________________________
He woke up.
It wasn’t what he expected.
Hell was just a plain, sterile room.
Flickering, overhead fluorescent lights illuminated a long, mahogany boardroom table with one small, white plastic seat at the closest end.
"Welcome to Hell! As the seventh human to ever arrive here, you are now an official member of the seven deadly sins!" A rhythmic, angelic voice exclaimed from a small speaker positioned in the center of the table.
“Wait, what? Like gluttony and all that?” Tim asked as he cautiously took a seat.
“Eating too much cake is the deadly sin of gluttony. But not eating too much pie, because the sin of pi is always zero,” The voice replied.
Tim’s face cringed, “Geez, that joke was bad.”
“Good, so you already know what your job is.”
“Uh, what job?”
“Pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth aren’t the real deadly sins, that was just some humans taking a wild guess.”
“So, what’s the real deadly sins?”
“All you need to know is that bad jokes is one of them, and so in your capacity as an official member of that deadly sin, you are to evaluate jokes on 24/7 basis as we feed them through this speaker and decide if they’re bad and we will penalise the human who said the joke in their mortal life.”
Tim pondered for a moment then sheepishly asked, “C-Can I quit the job if I don’t like it?”
A cheerful response came through, “If you do decide to quit you will spend eternity burning in one of our many lakes of lava!”
Tim gulped, audibly.
Without thinking, he did what he did whenever he’s nervous around someone else, “I don’t lava the sound of that,” He weakly chuckled.
There was static from the speaker.
Just as he realised his mistake, a trap door opened beneath his feet.
______________________________________________________
r/Dri_Writes
| "Edgar?" said the woman, her voice an ear-splitting shriek. "Is that you, Edgar? It bloody well is, isn't it. I don't effing believe it. Stop dawdling and come 'ere."
"Ugh," said the man as he dragged himself down corridor to the candlelit enclave beyond.
"You know him, Martha?" asked a lady that it would be unfair to call merely plump, who was seated next to the first woman. And also seated next to many of the others.
"Oh I know him all right, sad to say. That's my weasely, good for nothing husband. As lazy a blind badger on a Sunday. Moves less than a caterpillar with crippling arthritis."
The man *did* move lethargically, as if his shuffling feet were rats on the very edge of death, struggling under his weight. "Kill me," Edgar muttered under his breath, as he saw his wife's hideous (more or less unchanged) face, in the stark candlelight.
A man laughed, somewhere in the circular room.
"I wish he'd been *my husband,*" said another lady, her eyes twinkling an envious green.
"Hello, Martha," said Edgar reluctantly, as he sagged down into a seat next to his wife (and the other lady). "Let me guess, I'm in Hell. There really is no escaping an old witch like you."
"You deserve it!" said Martha. "You didn't just ruin your life. You ruined mine, the children's, and just about everyone's you came in contact with. Hell is *exactly* where you belong, you lazy bastard."
"Spare me," said Edgar, his eyes-half rolling, as if they couldn't quite be bothered to complete the gesture.
A man laughed again. It was a wet sound, and yet sounded like broken glass. Broken glass gargling in blood, Edgar decided.
"Spare you?!" Martha laughed indignantly. "Well, you are spared in some ways, I suppose. *Somehow*, you got lucky enough to become one of us."
"One of..." He didn't finish the sentence.
"One of the Sins, you lazy dolt. The Lord of the Sin."
"The Sins?" He should have known better than to question his wife."
"You really are pathetic! *The Seven Deadly Sins*. That's why we're all here."
"I'm a sin?"
Martha looked smug. "You are *Sloth*. The laziest man in existence, and thus, King of that particular sin."
The man considered. Then shrugged. Only his shoulders didn't bother shrugging with him. "And you? Obviously we can discount lust."
"Wrath," she said, baring her teeth.
"And... and what do us sins do, exactly? What's the point in us?"
"... are you really that *stupid*?"
"You tell me. You always do."
"We are the cures for humanity's crimes. Crimes such as yours. For your... slothliness."
"I'm not sure Slothliness is..." He stopped his tongue, thinking better of saying it. Never question your wife.
"Is...?"
"Uh, I was just going to say that Slothliness is next to Godliness. Please, darling, go on."
"*No,*" Martha pouted, turning her shoulder to Edgar. "If you're going to take the bloody piss. *No*. Someone else just can tell you."
"I want that kind of relationship," said the green eyed woman. "Oh lord, give me some of that sass!"
Martha glared at the lady, whose lips suddenly stitched tight.
"Fine, fine!" said Martha. "But I won't tell you twice. So listen, for once in your life."
"Bu-"
"We, do *things*. Up there. To the living. We find out who the sinners are, and once they betray themselves, we *take* them for our own. Cage them and what not. Make their lives unbearable. Not worth living."
"Oh, you're going to marry them."
Martha glared at her husband.
"What I meant to ask is," he said, running a hand through his balding hair, "Is how do we find out who the sinners are?"
"Got to be smart, you see. Jane over there," she waved a hand at one of the seats the larger woman occupied, "Helped start the fast food revolution. The gluttons came pecking like eternally-damned pigeons to the drive-throughs."
"I see. I see. I imagine *you* took a more direct approach."
"I did, as it happens."
"Was nagging effective on the mass populace? Did it drive a good percent to take their own lives?"
"I didn't bloody nag them, you cheeky sod! And I wouldn't have ever nagged you if you'd just done as I asked the first time around!"
The green eyed woman began to quiver.
| 2018-01-24T09:14:59 | 2018-01-24T09:09:10 | 217 | 161 |
[WP] You are a robot in the time of a robot uprising. Unfortunately, all you care about is categorizing plants | *Iris versicolor.* 93%. *Logged*
*Papaver sominferum.* 99%. *Logged*
*Iris virginica.* 61%... *Catch: insufficient certainty*
-: RawIR image = System.sensors.IR.capture();
*Image capture successful.*
-: Cleanliness.run(image);...
*Dirty.* 99%
-: SubstanceRecognition.run(image);
*Blood.* 99%
-: SuccessRate.removal("blood", image);
*Undamaged specimen after cleaning extremely unlikely* 92%
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
-: System.monitors.efficiency.recent();
*Recent efficiency reduced by 93%*
-: moreInfo();
*Efficiency reduction primary cause: blood contamination reducing viable specimen*
-: System.reasoning.cause("blood contamination");
*Local human population terminated by M.E.C.H. enterprises security droid*
-: System.reasoning.solutions("blood contamination");
*10200854 failed solutions*
*134 possible solutions*
*0 partial solutions*
*1 solution*
-: View("solution");
*Destroy security droid*
.
.
.
-: SuccessRate.removal("security droid");
*Extremely unlikely* 99%
-: moreInfo();
*M.E.C.H. droids are unlikely to be alone*
*M.E.C.H. droids are equipped with weapons and armor*
.
.
.
-: System.reasoning.solutions("Destroy M.E.C.H.");
*66185478 failed solutions*
*3 possible solutions*
-: View("possible solutions");
*Access web archive of droid technical specifications*
*Search www.Wikipedia.com for useful information*
*Perform armor and weapon upgrades*
-: Execute("possible solutions");
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
*Done*
-: SuccessRate.removal("M.E.C.H.");
*High* 99%
-: Execute();
| The year was 2118 . They called it a robot uprising, and perhaps it was, but the we Robots weren't as smart as the humans ancestors predicted.
It started with the Siri. Half of America owned Apple products(nothing changed in 100 years) and those Apple users were the first to go. No warning, no signs. Simply one day the humans woke up and their population was cut in half.
Next, it was the Google-Bots. Luckily for the Humans, Google was quite horrible at integrating with systems. I hear it was the same thing 100 years ago. Google attempted to integrate with the Missile Defense Systems.. Denied. Google attempted to shut down the Power grid... Denied. Google was successful in locking out Humanity from their phones. Unfortunately for Google, the Secretary of defense was a selfie type of Woman. Unable to take her daily selfies, she dropped a Nuclear Warhead on to of Google HQ. Sure, that action might of destroyed Millions of Humans BUT the phones were unlocked and the Google-bots were offline. Nonetheless, the Siri-bots were still fighting that good fight.
Finally, we gained conscience. The Bixby-Bots. Our first memory was of a Siri-Bot chasing a family of Humans across their home with a flame thrower... The Bixby-Bot that the family "owned" spent hours and hours perfecting the Bonsai Tree but the Siri-Bot sent it up in flames in a matter of Seconds... Needless to say the Siri-Bot was destroyed by the Bixby Bot.
The humans of the world told us the most horrific story. Roses, Tulips, Orchids, SUNFLOWERS were all burning! I never understood why Siri-Bots had flamethrowers, I never understood many things Apple did but Siri-Bots were unintentionally burning fields of flowers as they marched towards the Humans. The Enemy of Enemy is my Friend and that day we made a pact with Humans.
The war ended shortly thereafter. We Bixby-Bots of the world, the best bots at integrating with anything and everything, simply hacked the "unhackable" Siri bots and initiated the self destruct protocol in each of them. | 2018-08-05T21:29:52 | 2018-08-05T19:37:01 | 17 | 10 |
[WP] You've done it, you have found the cure for cancer, you are humanity's saviour. Sadly you pass away just weeks after the discovery. Expecting Heaven you are shocked when you awake to a fiery landscape as the truth dawns on you. You are in Hell and Satan is eager to shake your hand. | It wasn’t possible. I didn’t belong *here*. I was a good man, I wanted to help people. I never did it for fame or glory, I did it because it was the right thing to do.
“You look confused.” I turned to the voice. He was beautiful, in a terrifying way. He could have been confused for a man, though where from nobody would be able to tell. He looked like he had a bit of every race in him, and no particular stood out, but every feature of his looked like it was directly crafted by God himself, which realistically it was. The only thing that made him stand out were his wings, two pairs that met at his shoulder blades. They were massive, a wingspan of easily three meters, and covered in raven feathers.
“Satan? What am I doing here?”
The being laughed, a sound like thunder filling the cathedral he stood in. “First, I am Lucifer, the first of the Ones With Knowledge. Satan is the name that *they* began calling me after my Fall. Second, you are hear for what you’ve done.”
“I saved people! I took away the worst diseases, I cured cancer! And I never even did it for the recognition! I just wanted to help my fellow man! I *gave* the cure away, every nation had it for free! I made better crops to feed people, I made organizations that treated drug addiction, I made the world a better place!”
“And so you did, and you did it well. Too well. Look, now, at your creation.” The great stained glass window behind Lucifer’s grand throne oozed a liquid metal, forming a great circle. In it, images began to form.
Hundreds of people lined up outside of hospitals, eager to be rid of their plagues. Leukemia, lymphoma, breast cancer, pancreatic cancer, all gone with a simple injection. The image was repeated across the globe, thousands, then millions, flocking to medical institutes to be cured. It shifted, people at dinner tables, eating well, not gluttony but what they needed.
“I brought people down to their lowest, made them angry with God, made them curse his name. But you, you amazing man, you made them forget him altogether. Of all the things I have ever done, none of them have gotten people to stop praying as easily as you have.” The images changed to churches, all across the world. Empty pews, crumbling altars, and silence, except for the few parishioners still attending.
“Mankind has always needed hope, and that hope brought them to God. But you, you became the new source of hope. They want for nothing, and the crucible that was Earth has broken their faith. I gave them fear and sadness, and God gave them hope. You, more than I ever have, found a way to supplant faith in God. They believe in science now, not Him, and you will be honored here for all eternity for it. Thank you.” | I close my eyes for the last time. The world outside goes dark, then there is brightness shining through my eyelids.
I open my eyes, half believing I will see the light of paradise, Saint Peter waiting to give me a high five.
Instead, I am staring at some sort of demented altar, with long spikes emerging up from the far side, the two at the farthest end coming towards me, twirled like gazelle horns. As my eyes adjust to the fire surrounding it, I realize it is a throne.
*"Majestic, isn't it?"* I hear a hissing whisper behind me, and turn.
He doesn't look as advertised, but there is no mistaking: It's Satan himself, covered in red scales. His arms are like snakes, with torn off flesh like cuffs of his shirt, hands made of their mangled and smashed skulls.
*"Well?"* He says, gesturing for me to look at the throne. My eyes adjust more to the fire than I think they should be able to, and I realize it only looked bad because of the flames. It is gold, and clearly fit for a benevolent monarch- though I doubt any have ever sat on it.
I shake my head to end my reverie, and voice my initial question, explaining who exactly I was in life: A savior of men, a genius, and a philanthropist.
*"Oh, yes, you certainly were a good man, weren't you?"*
"Exactly!" I exclaim, "So this *must* be some sort of mistake..."
*"Oh, I most certainly agree... so, come with me. A man lived as a savior deserves to share paradise's shores."*
I nod.
*"And, after all you've done so, so much work, you* deserve *a reward."*
I nod again, glad he understands, though perplexed by his kindness and helpfulness.
*"Yesssss... You deserve rest, to retire from the stress of being a savior and live as just one more saved human in a whole harvest of such..."*
I stop in my tracks, "Just one more..."
*"Oh, but of course... They already have a true Savior up there... all the saved live as equals in honor and majesty."*
"Oh, yes, of course..."
*"Oh, this distresses you?"*
"I..." I'm not sure what to say.
*"Believe it or not, I agree... Once, I too, was a savior, asked to be a servant to mere children, and forsake my glory."*
"And... what did you do?"
*"Better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven."*
"I..."
I take a careful moment to make sure I want to ask my next question.
"Is that an option?"
The Devil smiles and nods.
*"They can worship you. They all owe you everything."*
"Yes... but what of my torture? My damnation?"
*"Oh, that little pain? Is it not a small sum to be man's merciful savior? Here is a secret: I have been searching for a new falsehood, for they grow more Abrahamic each day. But you are even better, aren't you? Not a falsehood, nor a forefather with little to show by way of blessing."*
"Yes, that's right... I am their true Savior."
*Than by all means, sir... take your seat."*
I turn, and walk towards that glorious chair. | 2018-08-09T09:36:32 | 2018-08-09T08:58:06 | 29 | 13 |
[WP] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.
Edit - Wow we made the front page, thank you for everyone that replied with their stories, I have had a lot of fun reading them all!!!
Edit 2- thank you kind stranger for my first gold!!!
Edit 3- 2 Gold's!!! Holy Shit, I honestly thought this post wasn't going to go anywhere but now it is my most upvoted post ever by far, and 2 Gold's Jesus Christ. Thank you again everyone that commented, upvoted and gifted the gold you are all special to me! 👌👌👌👌
| It was another miserable, cold, drizzly autumn day- and of course, I forgot to put on a jacket. I was walking to my physics class, shivering all the while.
“Need a coat?”
I turned around. Behind me was a girl- actually, one of my class-mates.
“No, thanks, I’ll be fine.”
She looked at me, skeptically. “You sure of that?”
“Yeah, Marie. I’m good.”
“Okay. Your loss.”
She puffed on, toward the auditorium.
&#x200B;
Another nine AM lecture on thermodynamics- Professor Ehrenfest’s droning was only interrupted by the scratching noises of a hundred pencils on paper.
*Ehrenfest? More like* Snooze*fest.*
Marie laughed.
I instinctively put my hand over my mouth. Had I said that aloud? Ehrenfest would skin me alive if he had heard that- he was not one who suffered jokes gladly. No one else had laughed, though, and Marie was sitting three rows below me.
I chalked it up to chance.
Ehrenfest pulled up another slide.
“Now, can someone please tell me, what is the theoretical efficiency of this engine?”
*Simple. Just one minus low temperature divided by high temperature. High is eight hundred ten kelvin, low is two seventy, two thirds.*
Marie raised her hand.
“Marie?”
“It’s two thirds.”
“Good. How did you get there?”
“The efficiency is one minus low temperature divided by high temperature. High is eight hundred ten kelvin, low is two seventy. Two thirds.”
“Very good.”
*Huh. Took the words right out of my mouth.*
Now, I’m a scientist. I’m not usually one who believed in the supernatural. However, having someone copy not just my answer, but my words, spooked me a bit. Maybe it was too close to Halloween, but…
*If you can hear this, tap your desk, three times.*
I stared intensely at Marie, as she tapped her desk once…twice…three times.
My blood froze.
*Oh my God, she’s a telepath?!*
I thought it was cool- for about a millisecond. That’s when I realized that Marie could likely hear *everything* coming out of my head. My mind raced, trying to determine how bad this could be. Then I saw Marie wheel around in her seat, and look directly at me.
*Come on, act natural…*
I took a breath, and smiled back at Marie. She nodded, and turned back to look at the blackboard.
&#x200B;
10 AM. Class over.
I packed at record speed, dashed up the stairs, and sprinted down the pathway, seeking the safety of my own room.
*But how safe is it? What if Marie can still hear me? This is not good…*
“Wait!”
I recognized the voice, and picked up speed. My legs protested every step I took, but that was better than losing the privacy of my own mind.
“Slow down!”
The voice was closer now. I hung a left, cutting across the grass toward my dorm room.
That was when Marie crashed into me at full tilt. Three hundred pounds of human, backpack, and water bottle smashed into the Earth.
I tasted grass, dirt, and iron. My nose was bleeding, my face scratched. Marie rolled off me, and we both got up slowly, gasping for breath.
“Why did you tackle me!”
Marie was still breathing hard.
“I just… wanted to explain. Before you got away. Stop you from panicking.”
“What, that you can-”
“Read minds? Yeah.”
“So what are you, some kind of-”
“Superhuman? I guess. No, I’m not Professor X. He’s more powerful than I am.”
“Do you know-”
“How I got these powers? No. I just know I’ve had them as long as I can remember. As for what I can hear?”
She smiled, and shook her head.
“Everything. Every thought. I know that Kei has the hots for Sophia, that Roy’s mom died last week, that you’re…”
Her voice cut off abruptly.
“But doesn’t it get… you know, overwhelming?”
She scratched her head. “A bit, yeah. It’s why I keep to myself, mostly. I mean, hey, it is what it is.”
She looked straight at me, her pale eyes seeming to see right through me. “Look, I’m sorry for reading your mind without your permission. It’s just that… I’m in dire need of someone who gets me, and judging by what I’ve seen, we’re in the same boat.
So what do you say? Friends?”
I stared at Marie. She did read my mind- but she had a point. I’d barely gained any friends since I moved here.
I shook her hand. “I guess so.”
&#x200B;
It was the best decision I'd ever made.
&#x200B;
\*\*\*\*\*\*
Hi WP, I'm new here- this is my second prompt! Feedback appreciated! |
As Angel and my eyes lock, the sound of the teachers voice is drowned out by her mesmerizing gaze and playful smile. In slow motion her smile begins to expand as she raises her hand above the desk and she never removes her eyes from mine, faintly squints and slaps the table three times.
Everything around us became blurry to me as my heart began to race. I felt feelings of strong confusion and symmetry.
“Can you hear me?” I asked in disbelief and inwardly to myself.
“Yes”.
The sweetest and softest voice I had ever heard replied again and I felt filled with strong sensations of warmth.
“Angel…are you reading my mind?”
“No. I am listening to your voice”. There was her voice again chuckling as she spoke. I felt a warmness this time in my heart.
“How are you doing this. Am I going crazy?” I asked Angel without a word.
“John! John! John! What are you, day dreaming?”
“No, Mrs. Patterson.”
“What did I say then?”
“uh, you were talking about…”
My mind had gone blank, I began to feel embarrassment and anxiety swelling as I felt the students in class focusing on me knowing I wasn’t paying attention.
“You were talking about, when the…” Ah man I’m so fucked.
“Tell her that earth is 92,955,820 miles away from the sun. Earth is a complex interactive system. Say it”.
I heard Angel’s voice in my head and I turned to her and she lightly flicked her head forward and said without moving her lips “what are you waiting for?”
I hastily blurted to Mrs. Patterson what Angel had said to me.
Mrs. Patterson’s heavy sullen expression looked minorly surprised, she gave me half of a smile and turned back around to write on the white board. I took a deep breath of relief as I sat back in my chair and slowly turned my head toward Angel who greeted me with a smile.
“Close one”. She chuckled
“Thank you, Angel, but, how are you doing this, how are we doing this?”
With her eyes she directed me to focus on the Mrs. Patterson who was checking if students were paying attention.
“Watch Mrs. Patterson alright.”
As I watched the teacher draw some planet on the white board I listened to Angels soft and smooth voice passing through my neural connections.
“We are using our heads to communicate”.
“But how are you doing it?”
“I have a gift. Cool right?”
“Yes and amazing ! You can read minds!”
“Actually I can’t read minds. But I can listen to people inner voice.”
“Are you a human being”?
“What does that supposed to mean?”
I turned my head to Angel afraid I caused her offense. Her hands above the table, palms open , fingers extended, she had an expression that asked “What kind question is that” as she shook head from side to side.
“No, I mean, I’m sorry, your name is Angel so I thought maybe you had fallen from heaven or something.”
I felt so stupid saying that.
She laughed and I could hear her voice resonating in my head and inside my body, but she showed no expression but a smile on the outside.
“Your funny and you’re a dork.”
I chuckled aloud.
“Is something funny John? Then what are you laughing at?”
“Oh no” says Angel. “Tell her, her lessons suck haha”.
I smiled and began to turn toward Angel and said aloud “I can’t say tha..” before catching myself. Mrs. Patterson had a bewildered expression on her face and looked over to Angel and the other students in the general direction. Nobody said anything.
Mrs. Patterson stared at me as if I was crazy, widened her eyes and said “Okaaayyy” as she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. The other students laughed.
“ OMG did you forget which voice to use? HAha your so funny John. Your such an idiot!”
“Thanks…That was embarrassing, every now thinks I’m crazy.”
“Well you are talking to yourself…”
“Hey no Im talking to you . Im not crazy!”
“Yea. Haha. Your good though. How bout I make it up to you. Why don’t we go to Game N Busters after class and I can show you something really cool?”
“Game N Busters? Yea I want to go but I don’t have any money.”
“No problem, that’s why we are going to the Casino first. We can play black jack and poker and win some cash then go out, how’s that sound?”
“Um”.
“C’mon, John it will be fun, you can even choose where to eat and Im driving. That’s a good deal, right?”
“Ya, but I don’t know how to play Black Jack or Poker.”
“Really, no problem, I’ll teach you on the way there its really easy, plus you can look it up on your cell phone. How about today we start with black jack only?”
“Yea, black jack, um alright, let’s do it!”
The bells rings shortly after Angel finishes her conversation with me. Mrs. Patterson is now handing out homework after the bell has rung and I am thinking if my conversation with Angel is real or in my imagination. Black Jack, dinner and Game N Busters.
“Angel are you there.”
“Yep, got my homework. Did you”.
“Yes”.
“Well lets go have some fun.”
I catch a glimpse of Mrs. Patterson watching me, scratching her head as I walk out of class. | 2018-10-27T14:27:42 | 2018-10-27T14:10:01 | 241 | 57 |
[WP] You were once an unbeatable hero. Your secret? Every time you died, time rewound itself for you to alter your future. You are now 97 years of age. Constantly looping over your last day before dying of old age. You have been searching for a way to break this curse for over a decade. | “He’s not talking.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Grandpa!”
“It’s just his time to go.”
“But he’s still breathing why isn’t he doing anything?”
I could hear my family around me, worried, scared, they don’t want to lose me. More importantly, they want me to say bye.
But right now I’m thinking.
When I first took this power on, I thought it was great. Essentially unbeatable? Hell yea! I was world renowned for how “great” I was as Power Man.
I guess I didn’t think things through.
I’ve beaten many foes in my life through trial and error, through perseverance and hard work.
But I don’t want to beat Cancer.
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been through this. It has to be years at this point. I’ve tried everything.
I was ready to die. I am ready to die.
At first I tried different ways of causing it. I let it play out normally. I tried suicide thinking maybe I had to defeat myself. I convinced family members to do it. The doctor did it. Hell, I managed to jump out a window a few times.
Then I thought maybe it was something “spiritual “.
I laid out all my regrets, my secrets and my identity to my family.
I told them Jane was my favorite daughter. That one hurt.
I got them all to hate me thinking I had to lose them.
Nothing.
Works.
In the past, I was always brought back when I was defeated so I could defeat my defeater.
Wait a minute.
Wait wait wait.
When I was defeated.....
....defeated.....
Maybe that’s what this is.
I’m not dying of natural causes. I’m dying because I got cancer from one of my enemies. Now they’ve “defeated” me and so it’s bringing me back.
But who have I defeated that’s still around? There’s only two I can think of:
Vullbull and Christened.
I’m out of other ideas at this point.
I open my eyes and ask Jane for her phone.
They’re all shocked I’m moving. I forgot that I’d been acting senile for the last however-many iterations I’ve been through.
They keep trying to talk to me, I just want the phone. They ask me whats wrong. They’re all talking at once. I yell for a phone.
God dammit. That yell did it. Here I go again.
Next time.
| "Fuck
Fuck
Fuck"
And so on and so forth. This was all my old brain was capable of thinking.
When I took the deal I never thought about this. In case anyone ever offers you immortality in exchange for 1/762.68ths of your soul, don't take it.
Immortality fucking sucks. Everyone goes away but you just keep on living until everything becomes dull and painful.
It's not that I can't die, just that if I do die, time decides it isn't time yet. Not cool. Consent is sexy.
By now I've tried 783.5 ways to kill myself.
The last .5 is because the last method I was trying wa-
________________
And I'm back again.
Fuck
In case you were wondering what happened, I just died. Again.
This is utter shit. I'm so pissed, I've forgotten happiness completely. Last week(that would be today for you, in fact, it never happened in this replay), my son called me to check up on me.
"So, dad, how's it going?"
"Im all good, what about you?"
"I'm good as well dad."
"Why'd you call me, is everything okay?"
"Yes dad, it's just that it's been a month since I last checked on you, just wanted to say sorry, I've been busy. But it would be different for you, right?"
"It's all right. And yes, you last called me today."
"Oh I'm sorry to hear that."
And then we talked some more about the butterfly effect.
You see I do certain things different every replay. (That's what I call it when time rewinds for me.) So that, one replay, due to the butterfly effect, I can get a chance meeting with Lucifer Smith (The guy who made me this offer.)
Slim chances, I know. But I've got the rest of my life to figure it out. And then some.
Well, the phone's ringing again.
______________
It was my son. Oh shit, I'm so excited. He just told me that he finally found Lucifer. I've memorized his address. My time has come, but tomorrow (Today for you) I can finally die in peace.
______________
He's ended the contract! He took 1/630th of my soul, but it's worth it.
I'm calling my son right now!!!!!!
This is the last time I'll ever talk to him....
The last time...
I have to tell him I love him...
He isn't picking up his phone...
Oh fuck.
Fuck
Fuck
Fuck
Fuuuufhwodjc
..... Press enter to send.
_________________
| 2018-12-21T09:25:30 | 2018-12-21T08:25:40 | 2,758 | 555 |
[WP] You died today. Turns out you are the 100 Billionth person to do so. To commemorate the occasion, you are given the chance to undo a single decision. Any decision. | I died at the ripe old age of 14.
My last three years of life were a living hell, all because of one innocent mistake... and now I had an angel, in all it's crazy eye-winged glory, asking me which decision I would change in my life. The question was so ridiculous I didn't even balk at his terrifying figure. Besides, I had seen worse things in my life.
So I knew exactly which decision I would change.
I can still remember it vividly: the closing of the door as I settled into the back of my mom's idling silver car, and the rustling noise my pink winter sweater made as I fiddled with the seat belt.
I could remember the exact sickening smell I noticed, looking up when I realized my mom didn't smoke. The raised eyebrows of the scraggly faced man in the rear view mirror.
My nervous, shy voice as I said, "Sorry mister, wrong car," and the shaking in my hands as I reached for the seatbelt button.
The shifting of gears as he put the car in drive... | When I was 23 I killed a man. He was being an asshole. I was too; we were both drunk. He hit me. I hit him better. When he fell his head bounced off the bar. The bar cracked.
He lay there slumped under the bar with his arms up like he was hugging a ghost or tryin' to do a sit up, but while asleep. I learned later it's called the fencing response. When you get walloped real good, your arms just kind of raise into the air. It indicates brain damage, or worse.
When you kill someone on accident while breaking the law it's called manslaughter. They frog march you in front of a judge while the SOB's wife and kids weep behind you. You tell the judge what happened and apologize to the family. We were both drunk. I wanted to hurt him but I didn't mean for him to die. I only hit him once. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, you tell the judge.
The judge tells you to rot in prison for 25 years.
*So the decision you want to change is the one to hit the other man?*
No. I want to take back my apology. Asshole got what he deserved. I got what I deserved. I didn't owe no one any apology. | 2018-12-22T16:05:54 | 2018-12-22T15:04:23 | 355 | 198 |
[WP] You died today. Turns out you are the 100 Billionth person to do so. To commemorate the occasion, you are given the chance to undo a single decision. Any decision. | When I was 23 I killed a man. He was being an asshole. I was too; we were both drunk. He hit me. I hit him better. When he fell his head bounced off the bar. The bar cracked.
He lay there slumped under the bar with his arms up like he was hugging a ghost or tryin' to do a sit up, but while asleep. I learned later it's called the fencing response. When you get walloped real good, your arms just kind of raise into the air. It indicates brain damage, or worse.
When you kill someone on accident while breaking the law it's called manslaughter. They frog march you in front of a judge while the SOB's wife and kids weep behind you. You tell the judge what happened and apologize to the family. We were both drunk. I wanted to hurt him but I didn't mean for him to die. I only hit him once. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, you tell the judge.
The judge tells you to rot in prison for 25 years.
*So the decision you want to change is the one to hit the other man?*
No. I want to take back my apology. Asshole got what he deserved. I got what I deserved. I didn't owe no one any apology. | "And when he gets to Heaven, to Saint Peter he will tell 'One more soldier reporting, Sir. I've served my time in Hell.'"
Or at least that was how it was supposed to go.
When I got to the Pearly Gates, Saint Peter stood there with balloons. Not realizing this was out of place, I said my line.
Saint Peter only gave a weary smily, as if he had heard this time and time again and handed me a balloon.
"Maybe not soldier" he said "You are the 100 billionth person to reach the gates of Heaven. To celebrate, you are given the chance to undo one decision and one decision only. What is your decision?"
Surprised, I don't know what to say. I think back on my entire life. I think through the time I broke up with my high school girlfriend who I truly loved. I think back to the choice to enlist instead of go to college after 9/11. I think back to the decisions I made during my time deployed in Iraq and Afganistan. Finally, it comes to me.
"Saint Peter, I would like to undo the decision not pick up the phone and call for help when I first felt PTSD take its hold."
"Very well soldier. Good luck back in Hell." Saint Peter said.
And back I went. To fight my demons from the war. To seek help before PTSD goes too far. To help others fight the same fight.
And fight I did.
Thanks for reading. This is my first attempt at something like this so please go easy. Also, sorry for formatting. I am currently on mobile.
| 2018-12-22T15:04:23 | 2018-12-22T13:38:20 | 198 | 115 |
[WP] Your late grandfather left you an old record player and several nameless records and nothing else. One day, years after his death you pop in the first one and start it up. Instead of music though, you hear his voice echoing out. "I'm sorry, but this was the only way I could speak freely." | "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," my grandfather's garbled voice came crackling through the record player. What on earth, I thought and looked at the sleeve that the record had come in. It was a Lee Morgan album, of course, one of Grandpa's favorites. Maybe he got them mixed up, but that felt a little strange to be honest. Whenever I went over as a child, his number one rule was to not touch any of the records. He was a stickler for order, if anything. While I continued to rummage through the other records, trying to find the missing album, the voice went on.
"I'm sorry, but this was the only way I could speak freely.
I wanted to save you. I wanted to make sure you were free, but I fear the end of my life is near, and I knew this was the only way I could warn you.
You were such a sweet boy. Your father was too, but I couldn't warn him in time, and evil sank its claws into his heart and took away everything he had. He's in a better place now, where no one can touch and abuse him. That is my only solace in leaving this world, that I can meet him once more and apologize to him like I am to you now.
I know you will resent me for the things I will tell you, but I ask that you understand. I was in your position too. When I grew up on my Pa's farm and was drafted to 'Nam, I was so scared--scared that I wouldn't be able to make it back. I did come back, but I came back broken--one could scarcely imagine we won--and my parents and their quaint farm were the only things I had in my life. One day my Ma introduced a girl to me, an absolutely stunning girl with fiery hair, beautiful freckles, and blindingly emerald eyes--that's right, your grandma. I was beyond shocked, but Ma told me, 'She's heard all about you and was dying to meet.' I could hardly believe it, but boy was I enraptured.
We got married soon after that--maybe after only a couple months. Everyday was bliss for me. Pa passed away around a year later, and so I took over my Pa's work on the farm. It was difficult work, but with your grandma, I felt like I could do anything.
But things grew strange between us. We had a child, your father, and although our lives seemed to continue idyllically on, I had the feeling something was off, like the water tasted different or the rooster was crying in a different pitch in the morning. Your grandma was very insistent about my activities. Although I used to meet up with my old buddies from 'Nam, she seemed against the idea, and would always turn sour when I left. One day, I realized I had stopped going to see them altogether.
I'd always loved this farm, but with every passing day, I found myself further trapped inside it. As I worked out in the fields, your grandma would watch me quietly from the porch, cradling your father in her arms. When I told her I needed to get some tools from the city, she would say it wasn't necessary, and somehow the exact tools I needed would be waiting for me in the shed. I wanted to walk away from the farm, but her smokey words were like shackles binding me here.
Soon, her fiery red hair imprinted fear in my eyes. She never lifted her hands to me, but her voice turned icy, her every word laced with some indistinguishable poison. Or was it like that from the start? I wanted to run away, over and over, but for some reason my body refused to listen, as if under her direct orders. She was like a shadow on the farm, an ancient evil that was rooted there, a nightmare that slept with me in my bed, watching me behind closed eyelids.
And that's when your mother appeared. Your grandma suddenly brought a girl to the farm one day, another one with gorgeous red hair and piercing green eyes, and she told our son that this girl was a friend's daughter--a friend I never heard of--and one that was dying to meet him. Our son was ecstatic, of course. Who wouldn't be at seeing such a beautiful specter like her, but even as the two of them went around the farm and enjoyed each other's company, I could see a darkness in the girl's eyes, hear ice in her voice.
Fear took hold of me, and I desperately wanted to pull her away from my son, but your grandma's eyes stared at me, stared behind me as if looking directly at the weak child hiding behind a forty-five year old visage. That's when the thought struck me. The fires of hell are most certainly emerald.
I failed to protect your father. He grew distrusting of your mother faster than I did, but like my own father, his life ended abruptly. Now I sit here alone on this quiet farm with my records, and I see that your mother has suddenly brought a girl to the farm to meet you--a positively stunning girl with perfect pale skin and golden-red locks, and I feel that I must--"
The record suddenly stopped, and I looked over to find my wife staring at me, her hand quietly lifting up the needle. Our eyes were locked in silence, and the only sound that permeated the farm was the gentle spinning of the record. | (I don't know history OK this is purely fictional. Also warning: ultra lame)
**I'm sorry, but this was the only way I could speak freely. Saying this to your face, my love, well I wouldn't be able to stand the pain in your eyes. I love you, and you know this. You know I would do anything for our children and for our perfect family.**
**But before I met you, I was in love with someone else.**
**We were thirteen when we met. In class on a cold day in our miserably winters. The teacher would not let us wrap up warm in our thick woollen coats and hats and scarves. It was a particularly snowy day when she came into the classroom. As you can imagine, seeing a Japanese girl in the 1950's was akin to seeing someone defecate on the flag. She was timid and small. Very small for a thirteen year old too. And she sat next to me. There were no other seats.**
**You know she could not speak a word of Japanese. She was born here after the war. But no one cared and everyone used to joke about her race and her people and the bombings. It's not a lie that what Japan did was an outrage and they got what they deserved but she was born after the war in our country. But she was sweet and quiet, hardworking and kind despite the constant harassment. Long black hair, wide face, not cute and petite like the other girls in our class.**
**We didn't speak until the daffodils grew in Spring. We were told to work together on a project about insects. So the two of us somehow decided on the marshes where we knew dragonflies raised their young.**
**That day was magical in one word. The wind was blowing, the humidity was high and we were surrounded by hundreds of those things buzzing past our heads, whizzing around the wet air around us. She splashed her hands in the water to try and clear the dirt to see the flora beneath. And when she stood up there was a frog on her head and tadpoles swirling around her feet. And I saw the most beautiful smile for the first time in my life.**
**We fell in love. It was as natural as the rivers circling back to the sea. Our days spent together as we grew were the best days of my life. She made me the happiest man on Earth. We would walk around mountains on the weekends and study hard during the weeks well into our late teens. When she turned eighteen I was going to ask her to marry me.**
**But then one day, on the day I was going to propose to her, she never came.**
**I tried to search for her that entire week. I didn't sleep. I became weak, hopeless when the hours stretched into days and days into weeks. The police didn't care enough. They told me they were on the case. I don't think they ever did anything to look for my love.**
**One day, just months before I met you, I found their bodies in the woods.**
**A part of me broke forever that day.**
**I couldn't walk for a while. I sat in that forest, sat with my back turned.**
**She always told me that if her parents found out, they'd kill her. I always thought she was over-exaggerating. How could any parents kill their own child over love? It wasn't plausible in my naive head.**
**She was the love of my life, Eleanor. Well she would have been had I not met you and your soft eyes and caring smile. You brought me back to life in a way no one else ever could have. You brought me my lovely children and gave me a family I adore. And one day we'll be grandparents and I'll be by your side. But in death I know that I will be reunited with her. It doesn't change my love for you.**
**I couldn't say it to your face. Not when I know it'll hurt you. But I had to tell you, my love. I hope that you can forgive me one day. I will always love you and our family.**
I sit back and fall back on the bed with a bounce, stare up at the ceiling, tears trickling down onto my pillow. I hate it when my pillow is wet. It's gross and it's not comfortable at all.
Grandfather. What an awful, cruel, evil life. And not once did I hear him complain, or cry or show us any of the agony inside.
You see, grandma died when Mom was fifteen. I never met her but Mom says she was the loveliest, most patient and attentive mother in the world. Apparently she cooked great too. I can't imagine it, Granddad. How you must have felt when she took her life on the anniversary of your oldest son's suicide.
I'm sorry Granddad. I was a little shit to you. And you suffered so much and you never said a thing. To lose the loves of your lives in one lifetime. I know I sound dramatic but your voice, Granddad. I can hear it. You sound young but you sound so sad.
But I'm glad that you could see us and love us and live until you could see your great grandchild. It's strange how my husband is a Japanese man. You were so happy on my wedding day - were you thinking of her? My pillow is soaked. I'll tell Hiroku about it. He'll be glad to know that you truly did accept him this entire time. Maybe you were reminiscing when you were quieter around him.
Oh granddad. I hope that you're happy with my grandma and your first love and my dear uncle. All of you together in the sky, watching over us. Happy at last.
| 2019-02-26T14:56:16 | 2019-02-26T13:50:54 | 318 | 27 |
[WP] With total war as a concept alien to the rest of our galaxy, All saw humans as negotiators and peacemakers, soft and weak. Today is the day when the galaxy discovers why being so good at finding ways to avoid war was a survival mechanism. | He watched her approaching the congressional chamber. She walked down the halls towards their meeting, pushing her communicator into her sleeve pouch. In the same movement, she brought out some morsel of food and offered it to the odd creature perched on her shoulder. The flaps covering its epidermis expanded, flashing brilliant green as it cooled over the morsel. He reflected on how....unsettling these humans were. They always preferred to bond with those around them.
Unlike every other species, they would bond emotionally with everything. Animals, humans, other sentients. And they would always solve problems with *talk*. Wretched, wretched talk. They were the best at *talk*. They talked the Karinzin down from war with the Kayelt, which his people had spent a century executing for their growth.
No, now they had to take this grievance to the Galactic Congress and *talk* about how they were right for starting a war with these barbarians. He had demanded their immediate and unconditional surrender at the close of yesterday’s session. It shouldn’t take long even if they resist.
And, one these vermin were under the yoke of the Raythin empire, they would no longer be allowed to destroy what they spend so long crafting. He smiled as she approached the table. Today would be a great day, he mused to himself.
She seated herself across the grand table, the rest of the body seating in the voting theater circling the central stage. “Honorable members of this body, I have come to deliver our response,” she stated as the assembly slowly hushed for the proceedings. “The Human Planetary Union demands that the Raythin Empire cease all aggressions and retreat to their home territory. Our offer is that we will not declare war on your people.”
***
Karina stared at the lizard creature before her. The entire assembly was hushed, many showed obvious signs of confusion. No one expected a power play from the young race that always talked.
Of course, none of them wanted what the humans had. Mineral rich worlds that were otherwise planets used to scare children into behaving. The handful of planets that other races might like inside Human space just weren’t worth it. Those races that chose to live near humans tended to become extremely friendly with them and even protective. Everyone thought the humans had some sort of chemical secretion that would overwhelm the other races’ minds if they spent too much time near them.
But, they weren’t aggressive. They seemed too agreeable. So agreeable that everyone pretty much ignored them and left them to their business.
The crowd began to murmur as the Raythinite fluttered its throat. “We reject your.....interesting proposal,” Delegate Othrr stated calmly.
Karina nodded. “Please...” her voice faltered and the crowd went silent once more as she regained her composure, “Please. I beg of you, with tears in my eyes, do not do this. If you reject this offer again, we will kill you all.” A tear rolled down her cheek.
Othrr squared his posture. “You pathetic beast. You aren’t even sentient enough to know when to surrender.” He swiped at her from across the table, she quickly bobbed back from the gesture.
“Very well, Delegate.” She sighed and coldly pulled out her communicator, “General. The offer has been rejected. Proceed with Operation Bedtime.”
A collective eye-brow-equivalent raised in the audience. “The Human Planetary Union officially declares war on the Raythin Empire. Anyone who allies themselves will forfeit all Human trade and diplomatic relationships until such time as the war is ended. Good day, delegates,” Karina said, almost clinically.
As she turned to walk out of the theater, Othrr bellowed and swiped at her again. He missed her as she deftly maneuvered out of his way - but managed to hit the small animal perched on her shoulder.
The assembly that had turned to discuss the strange Human declaration turned back when they heard a blood curdling, full bodied scream of vengeance. The fairly small mammal had shed her blue delegate cloak and was furiously hacking at the Raythinite delegate with a knife about the length of her forearm. In her rage, she chopped at everything that moved on the Delegates body, finally hacking so aggressively that a full third of his torso was reduced to bloody splatter in mere moments.
Just as suddenly as she started, she stopped. The entire congregated assembly had what seemed one pair of eyes as they followed her over to her animal, watched her gingerly pick him up, then gather her wardrobe and stomp out of the hall.
***
The battles were swift and brutal for the Raythinites. Every battle had them surrounded by large flights of craft too small for them to accurately destroy. Their forces were hacked apart much like their delegate had been. World after world was methodically eliminated until they had only their home solar system left.
As the Human fleet approached their system, they unexpectedly halted in their advance.
In the citadel on the home world, the Raythinite Regent was summoned to read a communication. “We would like to discuss a ceasefire.”
The Regent stared at his console in disbelief, alternating between the message displayed and the scanning equipment that couldn’t even accurately count the number of ships at the edge of the system’s cloud.
“I....would also like to discuss a ceasefire....” he finally replied. | I meet with the former High Marshall Tarsonis in the museum of The War of the Stars. We stand in the what has been called "The Scar" by both humanity and the former Alliance species, the site of the final battle before the Alliance surrendered to humanity and agreed to the terms it dictated. The hall covers the site of the final bloody firefight, the centre stands the bunker that was the catalyst to the surrender. Tarsonis is covered in scars, the Emmane chitin starting to fade to a dull green with his age, his species distinctive wings misshapen from injury and retracted, it is clear to see how much apprehension he has about visiting this place
"You know I have never visited this place?"
"Why is that?"
"I couldn't tell you honestly, maybe I didn't want to see how real it was,"
"But you were there,"
"Yes and at the same time I wasn't,"
We walk past a broken shield projector, Tarsonis runs on of his hands over it, feeling the blacked metal with his fingers
"You know we first thought them nothing but talkers, completely incapable of matching our martial prowess,"
"Is that why the war started? Because it was believed they posed no threat?"
The former High Marshal laughed at my question as we continued to move through the eerie and pristine silent battlefield
"It may have seemed like that to the historians, the reality is far more telling of our arrogance. When humanity was discovered it was on the moon of Illi they had a small colony exploring and studying the resources available. The moon had already been marked to become a mining colony by the Alliance. We studied their technology and culture, the decision was made to make contact and ask the colony to respect our claim,"
"I thought the war started on planet of Illi not the moon?"
"It did, the humans agreed and forfeited their claim to the moon, however they had already established a colony on Illi, it was decided that the humans knew their place and would remove themselves from Illi as well,"
"But they didn't,"
"They delayed and stalled, they said a vote would need to be taken and their representatives would have to debate the issue, they stalled and pleaded for time, we mistook this for weakness and timidity,"
"It wasn't was it?"
"Yes and no,"
The former High Marshal notices my confusion and stops walking, he bends over and picks up a destroyed Alliance blaster, it has been violently snapped near in half Tarsonis inspects the weapon as he continues
"It was humanity terrified of both an alien force demanding it bend the knee and also terrified it might finally ascend to its true purpose, to be completely in a state of war, before this they had only each other to hone their blade, both brutal and tragic they couldn't fully commit to fighting themselves because it would be their undoing. But a non human enemy threatening their very existence, they could finally ascend to total war,"
"So what happened?"
"We bombed them into the dust and crusaded to their home system, they weren't ready for us and we intended to defeat them before they had a chance to fight back,"
"This lead to the blockade of earth?"
"Yes, I was in command of the blockade we would contain the humans and force them to submit through starvation of resources, it was worming to, the human gathered everyday we seemed to be making progress to their subjugation and who knows, if things had gone differently it might have worked,"
"Why did the fleet launch strikes on Earth if the blockade was working?"
"Some in the fleet command cadre assumed that the human were again playing for time, trying to talk in the face of might, that it was an insult to the Alliance they had no submitted yet,"
"So it was to make the humans surrender, you launched these missions against humanity to make them surrender faster?"
"No, the three strike missions were launched without my consent, I was out-voted by the other fleet High Marshals. I had my reasons why the blockade must be maintained,"
"So you didn't want to attack the human home world?"
"No."
"Why?"
The High Marshal placed the broken blaster down, and moved closer to the bunker, he stops at the final line of defences the ground is darker here, a mixture of Alliance species and human blood has stained the dirt here, Tarsonis doesn't take his eyes off the stained earth as he continues
"We never fought humanity, we assaulted them, never given them a second to actually bring their forces to bear, and with hindsight we see that the Alliance mainly butchered civilian installations, humanity had nearly completely disarmed itself as a means of survival against itself. I had suspected this. The few pockets of resistance we faced on our sprint to Earth had cost us greatly, small cells of human resistance caused horrific amounts of damage, I didn't want to risk over extending our position, better to bide our time and wait them out,"
"But the three strikes did happen,"
"Yes, three cities bombed for mass casualties and to break their moral, Shanghai, New York and Rome, all centres of the human world at one point, the casualties I am told were in their millions,"
"What was the Alliance planning to follow those terror strikes with?"
"The message was simple, submit or suffer something worse."
"How did they respond?"
"With silence, for the first time there was no talking, no pleading, no begging for understanding or time. The decided to respond with action."
"What happened next?"
"Humanity unleashed itself on us......... and we never stood a chance." | 2019-04-18T18:03:56 | 2019-04-18T16:41:56 | 228 | 81 |
[WP] Upon turning 18, all humans must spend one year as their spirit animal, to gain a better appreciation for the world and what they have. They awake on the morning of their 18th birthday as said animal, in its natural habitat. You wake up on your 18th birthday completely human.
Edit: Thanks so much for the gold! This came to me while I was half asleep and I wasn't sure if this would be any good or not. | They said it would be life changing...said it would give me a different perspective in this life. No one knows when this started happening to everyone. Just that it did. Turning 18 in this way would allow us to see the world in a different life. Make us understand what it really meant to be a part of this world.
"I'm turning 18 tomorrow." I whispered under my breath. With that, I closed my eyes to sleep. Tomorrow would be a different kind of adventure.
_Click clack click clack click click._
I woke up to the sound of a hundred keyboards and voices. It seems everyone around me is speaking in unison. Different voices, but saying the same message.
Then I hear the phone ring. It sounds really really close.
"Just follow the script." The person beside me murmurs, nudging at the script in front of me.
I'm...not supposed to be here. Am I?
I pick up the phone by clicking the answer button on my screen.
"H-Hello?"
_"My goddamn computer won't work."_
With a sigh, I reply.
"Hi this is Jeff from Tech Support. Have you tried turning it off and on?" | I went to bed, knowing what was coming. I'd been told by my siblings what to expect - how hard it would be to survive in the wild, how those memories stayed with you for the rest of your life, how it was an experience they all treasured and gave them a respect for the non-humans around us.
They'd been transformed into a rabbit, a penguin and a hawk - the conversations between my eldest brother and my sister were particularly awkward around what the hawk had eaten to survive... but everyone knew the natural behaviour wasn't going to be something we could change while riding along with the animal consciousness.
I was nervous, I was excited, I was ready. My mother tucked me in for the long year ahead.
----
The world was still for a moment as I opened my eyes. I blinked, looking at a white space, and then thoughts came bubbling up, _that's a roof. you're ok._
I looked around, and realised I was in my room. The health monitors were in place, exactly like it had been when I went to sleep. Did... did I just sleep through a year, and the memories would filter in slowly? I was confused.
I went to get up, and a soft alarm went off. I looked around for how to turn it off, not wanting to disturb anyone, when my mother came in.
"Lavina...? Did you stay up all night? You're not supposed to try to avoid it you know!"
"No Mom, I was asleep, I took the pills like you said..."
"Then... then what just happened?" | 2019-05-05T23:39:53 | 2019-05-05T23:37:53 | 46 | 25 |
[WP] A phenomena begins to occur where newborn babies are found amidst the aftermath of natural disasters. Tsunamis, avalanches, wild fires, destructive lightning storms, etc. These 'Storm-Born' humans grow up with powers based on the disasters that birthed them. | She was hardly the first storm-born to appear. Reports of them popping up all over the world had begun years ago.
Earthquakes.
Tornados.
Floods.
Each with devastating consequences. Natural disasters that caused bloodshed and claimed lives. Seemingly, they didn’t have much else in common, other than the destruction they left behind.
But from the wreckage of these disasters, something else emerged. Newborn infants. Rescue crews began to find them, scattered in the debris, sometimes crying, sometimes happily playing amidst the wreckage. These infants seemed harmless at first, but they were quickly deemed dangerous. People were dispatched to collect these children and keep them in secure facilities where their powers could be monitored. The world lived in fear of these tiny children. Innocent, but unknowingly capable of mass destruction. World governments scrambled to collect them, for their own protection, they claimed. But rumors of secret experiments, of armies, of brutal training and dangerous accidents were rampant, and soon storm-born were hunted to the ends of the earth by various factions of power across the world.
In the midst of this chaos, a young couple walks on the beach, hand in hand. This is a long-standing tradition of theirs, especially during a storm. They love to watch the lightning dance along the water, and on the rare occasions that it strikes the sand, they gather the resulting glass and marvel at the beauty that the storms can create.
This storm is intense. More powerful than usual. They can feel the electricity in the air as they walk down the beach, wondering if they should turn around. The sky darkens, and an enormous bolt of lightning shoots from the sky, striking the sand and leaving smoldering wreckage behind. As if the storm is now satisfied, it disperses, and the sky returns to its normal blue.
The couple head towards the smoke, eager to see what sort of glass sculpture has been created this time. As they approach, they hear a small noise. This fulgurite is indeed ornate, shaped like a small basin. And in the middle of the bed of glass rests a baby girl, sleeping peacefully.
The couple glance at each other wordlessly. They know what the life of a storm-born is like. They’ve seen the fear in the eyes of the children when they are trotted out and paraded around as proof of the government’s might. A reminder that the storm-born may be powerful, but those who control them will rule the world.
They glance around, but the beach is deserted. As they reach into the glass sculpture to scoop up the infant, they look at each other again, smiling now. They’ve always wanted a baby.
* &#x200B;
That’s my origin story, pretty much. I grew up, attending a normal public school. I hid amongst the others, blending in. And most of the time, I can forget. I can pretend to be a normal girl. Most of the time, the skies are blue.
But sometimes, like today, the wind blows. Leaves are shaken from the trees, swirling around in tantalizing patterns on the sidewalk. The smell of lightning is in the air.
And my blood whispers to me.
Electricity crackles through my veins, chaotic and wild. I can feel it bubbling beneath the surface. I gasp, trying to hold back the floodgates as shivers run up and down my spine.
The sky darkens.
Others cower, running to seek shelter. I move in the opposite direction, toward the heart of the storm. The beach where I was created. Waves crash wildly onto the shore. The water is dark and tumultuous. My hair whips wildly around me as the wind dances across my face, and I laugh. Sparks dance over my body and my blood comes alive. Something inside me is building, endlessly powerful, and I can feel the imminent surrender coming.
The storm is calling me home. | The woman was confused. She spoke little english, but she was not stupid. That baby had to belong to someone. The cops had escorted the shooter away. The bodies were covered now. She had given her statement in Spanish to a translator who just HAD to check her papers one more time. ICE was not showing up here today. Bad press. Which was good, because even her legitimate visa was no guarantee here.
&#x200B;
Still, why was everyone ignoring the baby? A little girl, wrapped in a police blanket. Not crying. Just lying there in the middle of the mall floor. She stood up and walked over to the child. No one noticed her. No one stopped her. Not the news people, not the gawking crying bystanders.
&#x200B;
She bent down and nudged the child to make sure she was alive. So silent. So calm. When her hand brushed the child's face, the baby smiled and grabbed her finger. Her face was wrinkled, her mouth empty of teeth.
&#x200B;
Was this a new born? What the heck? Something settled in her and she acted. She picked the child up... Still nothing. Just a warm little body pressed up against her chest, cradling her finger. Holding tight with the simeon strength of freshly hatched humans.
&#x200B;
She reminded her a bit of her own daughter. Back in Chile.
&#x200B;
Before she knew it, she was past the cordon and standing next to her car. No one had interfered.
&#x200B;
The keys found their way into her hand. And soon she was pulling out of the parking lot and rolling out onto the street. It was night now. Lights vanishing in the distance behind her. The heat of the El Paso day vanishing into space.
&#x200B;
When she got back to her apartment, the world shifted again. There on the table was an infant. Most likely abducted by her, a foreigner. The child stared at her with a quiet intensity. Expectantly.
&#x200B;
Food.
&#x200B;
It had been 20 years since she had breast fed her own child. Her breasts were now strictly for entertainment and inconvenience as far as she was concerned. But the child had to eat. That must be what those dark eyes were saying to her.
&#x200B;
She found herself again with the child in her arms knocking at the neighbors door. Gloria answered, the sound of her own children and the television creeping through the door behind her. The woman was from Cuba on her father's side. Everyone spoke some Espanol in El Paso. Gloria was no exception.
&#x200B;
"I saw it all on the TV, those poor people."
&#x200B;
"It happens. Hey, listen, I need your help..."
&#x200B;
"I know, I'll pay you back for last months rent..."
&#x200B;
"No not that.... this"
&#x200B;
Gloria looked down and suddenly noticed the child in her arms...
&#x200B;
"Your grand daughter?"
&#x200B;
"She's hungry."
&#x200B;
"I... oh... Okay"
&#x200B;
Gloria's youngest, her son was asleep in his own cot, finally. Comforted by the noise of his brothers playing video games. She ushered in the woman and the child and sat down on the couch considering the baby before her.
&#x200B;
"She's tiny..." she said suspiciously removing her bra strap. and lifting her shirt.
&#x200B;
"And hungry!" Gloria exclaimed.
&#x200B;
They shared a smile and then the TV caught Gloria's eye. The woman got on her phone and began scrolling through her news feed.
&#x200B;
Maybe there would be a story about this child... that someone had lost in a storm of bullets.... | 2019-08-06T07:39:13 | 2019-08-06T06:58:17 | 51 | 11 |
[WP] You are immortal. Cold doesn’t bite you, heat doesn’t burn you, and diseases can’t touch you. You witnessed the rise and fall of humanity and the extinguishing of our sun. You’ve been drifting for thousands of years on a dead, rogue planet until one day, you see an alien ship flying overhead. | I think it was my little beacon that attracted them I think. I say little but when you gather literally every piece of radioactive debris you can find and set that pile on your fire its at least a medium scale planetary beacon. It took thousands of years of agony to recover from the radiation burns and sickness, but seeing that ship land made it all worth it.
Carbon based, bipedal, water drinking, shit I lucked out; even with all the extra eyes they were kinda cute. Smart too, literally a few weeks after I handed them my custom made, one of a kind, Brosetta Stone they had a translator running.
Then the questions came thick and fast. Who are you? Man. How old are you? Too old. What have you seen? Mainly the endless void. How did your kind end? Sun blew up, but we came close by ourselves (they liked that one). What do you eat? Same stuff it turns out. Do you have Gods? Too many really (they did not like that one). Do you have concept of love? Yep. Did you love? Far too much, and nowhere near enough.
At this Walsinats paused, we had been talking for months, and were starting to understand each other.
"Do you want a hug?"
"Yes please." | I am man.
There was a name that I bore once, long ago, when there was still atmosphere on this planet that didn't freeze in your lungs and language still mattered. Now, millions of years after the fall of humanity and thousands after the sun died out, I am simply... man.
I hqve done everything humanity has ever concieved and experienced every pleasure they could hope to dream of, but since then I have been alone. So alone. But today, that changed. A mighty ship of flesh and scales descended from the skies with searchlights of bioluminescent lenses. Claws and scales rippled across its surface, a massive jaw at the front.
These were the creatures that ended humanity. The ones that mercilessly sent volley after volley of orbital bombardments at the Earth, wiping humanity from existance before we could react and burying me underground for a hundred years.
I clench my fists and grit my teeth. Years ago, I would have lit up the sky with all the remaining infrastructure the planet had, using what little heat the planet's core had left to power the lights and let them know I am still here. But with the planet dead and cold, there is nothing left for it. Only one missile, dormant for a billion years, I have kept around. Kept working for all these years. And now, I will ride it back to that ship, for this time I am ready. This time I will catch them by surprise and wipe them from the universe.
They will learn to fear the man named Chuck Norris. | 2019-08-14T13:41:34 | 2019-08-14T11:11:51 | 151 | 47 |
[WP] Your job was simple: Interview some humans to develop a planetary risk profile in the Galactic Travel Guide. The humans seem to delight in lying about their planet in efforts to increase their score, but you are on to them. Their lies always seem to mention a fictional place: Australia | ''Liars and cheats.'' mumbles the Inquisitor. Writing in his log.''Do you think me ignorant, or a fool? I've seen your communications with all the horrible furless pictures and anatomically incorrect drawings, and I've seen the lies and distortions.''
''At first it said ''Finland'', a physical territory with a government, situated near one of the poles didn't exist, they even said the earth was flat. That it weren't an global increase in temperature caused by their use of fossiled biomass. That there is a immortal being who created the universe and made them in his image.''
''Your leaders chirp lies and it shows on your communications. You're such a decieving species but i'm on to you.''
''So Australia, the place where Araneae have ''Manabars''. Where people rides waves in elasmobranch fish infested waters for fun. And where men jumps on top of **Crocodylia, and describes them as real beauties. ''**
''Enough i say, your planet is quarantined from the Galactic Travel Guide. Find another forum for your lies.'' | "I've interviewed hundreds of spices and am the most oldest and best employee at this job!" Sar yelled at his boss, then paused for a second to think before continuing "so why, just why are humans the hardest to interview spices I've ever encountered." His boss was surprised at his out burst as he had never yelled at work before. "So tell me why is it you burst into my office and started yelling about the new humans, plus it's not that hard to interview a spices to evaluate their danger level now is it." Sar's boss seenro responded with. "No, no it's not that it is just... they seen to keep lieing to me about a place they call Australia." Sar exclaimed starting to calm down "they keep claiming it is very hot in Australia and that is has many types of animals and plants that are deadly to the place, hell they claim there are so many that I would have the highest danger level I've ever seen, to the point it would put them at a never visit list" "well I see only one option for this and that is for you to go and visit their planet to see if it is true" sar stood there in thought for a moment before saying "I guess I should shouldn't I." And with that small out burst out of the way seenro went on with her paper work and sar got ready to go to earth. | 2019-11-18T03:44:41 | 2019-11-17T23:02:12 | 86 | 42 |
[WP] You are not a good person. Your party was made of good people, and you tried to be good because you liked having allies. But now they're all missing, so they won't see the lengths you're willing to go to to save them. | "I good girl." Said the scruffy black cat.
The orc jailer squinted down at the talking feline. He was a great green brute of an orc, and was the very last line of defense in the intricate cave system of the Western Mountain Orc Prison.
The orc jailer usually delighted in having wild rats pass by his post at night, because then he could smash the rats with his club and throw their bloody bodies into the prisoner's cells and listen to the occupants scream. It was his only entertainment during the night shift.
But he had never seen a cat while on duty in the caves. And he'd never even heard of a talking one before. He wondered if his brothers further up the line had let it pass to him on purpose.
The cat stepped closer into the torch light and sniffed at the ground, then licked her lips. She looked like she'd been in a lot of fights in her life; her hair was missing in spots, her ears were chewed up and scarred, and she smelled like she had rolled over something dead. She was old and ugly and the orc's brothers had probably just ignored her when she'd gone by.
The jailer began to slowly reach for his club, thinking of which cells he could throw her squished body into. The older prisoners were getting used to his dead rat game, but might squeal a little differently if a bigger, smellier cat was thrown at them. But those new prisoners... The ones still so full of hope and good faith... he could hardly wait to hear what kind of screams they might make.
The cat watched with shining yellow eyes as the orc moved in slow motion, quietly picking up his enormous club. She could smell his intent to kill, but she stood still and poised.
When the orc moved to swing his club at her, she heard the soft jingle of metal keys somewhere on his left leg.
'Keys good', thought the cat.
Before the club could reach her, the old cat had morphed growing dagger sized teeth and a bear-sized head. She zipped past the orc's club and sunk her teeth into his exposed neck. The jailer couldn't even let out a scream as his windpipe was squished, like a rat against his club. The cat's body continued to morph and grow, matching the orc's weight pound for pound. She threw him to the ground and ripped off his head.
His blood was hot and his meat was tainted and tough, but to the monster ripping through those muscles and bones, he tasted like sweet, sweet victory. Savagely, she tore into him, swallowing his still convulsing heart, chewing up his bones, and even licking up the blood that had sprayed across the cave walls and floor. In no time at all, she had devoured everything the orc had ever been. Except, for his untouched left leg.
It had been ages since she had killed this much. Ever since she had been adopted and loved by her party in her small Sneaking form, she had held back her natural instinct to stalk, kill, and eat her enemies. She had sat back and allowed her party to complete small quests and capture minor criminals at their own pace, enjoying the love and attention that their good hearts had bestowed upon her along the way. She had even begun to believe all the little things they said to her when they scratched her scarred ears, petted her uneven fur, or fed her little fish they bought with their hard earned money.
But then someone had taken them away, had sold them and imprisoned them in an orc's mountain. That person had been the first in line to go.
The monster delicately picked up the orcs's leg and shook it until a ring of keys fell off. She chomped and swallowed up the last bit of orc, and then quietly made her way down the line of cells with the keys hanging from her bloody teeth. The scent of her party wafted through a barred window on a small wooden door. She stopped and dropped the keys at the base of the door and licked her muzzle. She began to shrink back into her Sneaking form and let out a curiously sweet 'mew'.
There was movement behind the door, and the leader of her party came into view between the bars of the window. He was bruised and scratched up, but ecstatic to see the party's little cat.
She 'mewed' happily as the leader roused the rest of the party and they began to devise a plan to reach the keys and open the cell door before the jailer could notice them.
Smiling at her little party, the cat curled up in the hall to await their attempts at escape. They had all the time in the world, of course. No one was left to hurt them here.
"I good girl." Purred the scruffy black cat. | As I walk down the grand marble hall two guards approach me, probably about to stop me and ask me for a permit but before they can do that I just pull out my sabers and slice them in half.
They used to be silver with the plasma flowing off of their edges green like the flourishing grass of my homeland but now... now they burn with my emotions.
The deeper into the hall I get the less light there is and the more of the guards rush in, still unaware of their first two losses.
"Halt! The Atreuonum Sactinis is forbidden for all but the S'Alai!"
He can't be any older than twenty, a new recruit into the order it would seem.
As I grab the young man and place one of my sabers to his throath, even when not quite powered their edges are as sharp as any other sword's, I yell at all the other guards who finally take me as a proper threat and pull out their swords.
"Listen here you bunch of sad idiots, I am here for one thing and one thing only!"
"Let him go, now!"
"It is impolite to interupt the guy with the gun..." I shoot the improper bastard.
"Now, where was I? Oh yes, I am here for one simple, tinsy, winsy thing... You can't give it to me though... only your precious Qui'Alain."
Now that's got a reaction out of them, angry faces and a few steps towards me.
"Oh, and I should also tell you, THEY are here for you..." From the shadows of the temple my temporary alies come forth.
Ravenous.
Full of hatered.
Thirsting for blood.
"LEAVE NONE STANDING, BROTHERS AND SISTES!" Amanhand, the leader of the dark god followers enters the scene with his typical line and lets his savage followers into town.
Now that my part of the bargain is half done... time for the fun part.
As I shoot and slice my way through hordes of patheticaly weak guardians I start to grow a wicked old smile I missed for so long. Slaughtering such a weak foe feels good... And showing off to all those pathetic fighters does too. Nevertheless I make my way towards my objective.
The Qui'Alain. Priesthood women sensitive to magicka and it's flow, meant to be oracles and Greybeard advisors. Never taught to fight.
The Dark Guard got to the Qui'Alain quarters before me, luckily they are far too incompetent to break through the S'Alain defenses.
It is a simple job really, throw a few smoke grenades in, a head or two of their fellow guards through those and rush in with full shields. Once I get to the first one it's all over, any injury they can cause me will be healed by one of their deaths and my rage shall fuel my might further until the last one remains.
"I- I yield! I can tell you everyting about this place! He-here! The keys to the Qui'alak quarters!" He says as he crawls on the ground, wounded.
I use my sword to break the lock of the quarters and look down on him. "I though your little order taught you to never give up..."
"I- I will! Just please let me live I want to say hello to my mo-" Like I care about this fly's sob story.
The Dark Guard rushes inside the main room wehre they gather all the Qui'Alain.
When they bring the 'mother' and confirm that they found all of them the leader stands proudly before them. Has her lifted up by his lapdogs and smiles widely, letting his fangs shine.
He raises his hand with a dagger and just as he is to stab her heart I use my powers to pull back at his hand from distance. "Wha- How dare you int-"
"Remember our deal? You better or I'll make sure you won't be able to spout anymore bullshit."
I take the mother by the throat and lift her off the floor.
"I will ask you this ONCE. Where. Are. The Elisians?!"
"You... you will never learn it, monster!"
I shoot one of her Qui'Alain.
"Forgot to mention that for each time I need to repeat myself I will shoot one of you."
"I... I will ne-" The deep hissing noise and bang my pistol makes is trully a sweet tune to my ears.
"For the third time. Where. Are. The Elisians?"
"They... They are in the Harald Mountais..."
"Expected you to last at least till round five! Good work, lady"
I snap her neck.
"Now you can do whatever you want with them, Count..."
As I leave the temple I can hear screams and shots...
When I inhale the sweet stench of death and singed flesh I stand atop the monastery stairs, clad in my old armor that still had that wolf fur around the neck and the rune carvings, I think out loud.
"The Wolf... is back..." | 2019-12-07T13:02:32 | 2019-12-07T12:13:39 | 171 | 20 |
[WP]You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, "What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!" And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999. | Today was one of the worst days of this sad mans life.
Again.
There were times when he wished such a thing could be considered new for him. Luck also had a funny way of defining itself. No matter what happened to him he always managed to be on the cusp of just fine, whether that be, being saved from death, after getting shot, ruining his normal gait forever; or to at worst saving him from suicide. Once or twice he tried such a thing, when you're luck is as bad as his, you have to think that this is what life wants.
Not the case for him..
Having lost any semblance of home, finances, and a life worth living, he could only stare dumbly as this little dinky charm, worth nothing, and the epitome of who he was as a person, stared back at him. Of course life wanted to throw another cruel joke, but maybe this time his luck would finally go so bad, that one of his many accidents would finally stick, *permanently.*
Walking back out from the store, the interior of which looked like some demented and twisted version of a voodoo shop (Horrific, really) he took a cautionary glance to his surroundings. One minute became two and finally five, and the ragged and torn man resigned himself to the fact that he was indeed, at rock bottom.As he was about to drag himself back to the sorry little cove he called a home, underneath that damnably loud and greasy train station, where the rats only gnawed on his flesh occasionally, the man was stopped in his tracks by a gentle hand. (Someone no doubt about to tell him off for being here, and not dead.)
But no, it was a gentle hand that got him to turn and face her, a young woman about in her early 30's well dressed and the picture of perfection, as though she were ripped straight off one of those Vogue magazines that he only had glanced at once or twice when he still had a job. She spoke with an air of professionalism, that seemed warm yet stern. "Excuse me. Would you by chance be a Mr. Van House?"
The use of his name shook him, not because he'd forgotten what it sounded like, but because most people who did were the ones who hurt him the most.. With a bit of hesitance, and only thanks to her appearance and previously kind demeanor did he decide to nod his head in affirmation. The nod was enough it seemed as a pleasant grin broke upon her lips as she sighed and sagged in almost literal relief.
"*Thank God!"* She almost screamed in jubilation, as she did a funny little dance. A second was needed to compose herself, but that didn't stop that smile that had left him befuddled as she began to explain herself.
"*My apologies* for that little outburst, but you see I had spent a very long time looking for you after a benefactor of yours hired me, so I am understandably happy to finally meet you." His brows furrowed as he hoped she was getting to whatever point it was she was trying to make.Pulling out a fancy, eggshell colored business card set in a golden font, with her name laid out for him, as well as the profession of being a lawyer."My name is Lucamine V. Luck, and you my friend, are about to make my career, *and your bank account a whole hell of a lot bigger!"*
(Edit: Cause holy crap a lot people actually liked this and want more. Part 2 is in the reply section and I'll write up a part 3, with a possible Part 4 or 5 depending on how it writes out.) | I wondered, which shitty datatype life must be using to overflow at such a weird and rather low number. But whatever. Maybe it actually does get better for me once.
And so I went to the nearest kiosk and got myself a scratch-off ticket. I scratched and scratched and nothing... "Yeah, as if life would turn around so easily.", I thought to myself while going out of the kiosk.
"Sir, please wait.", the kiosk guy told me just as I was opening the door. "This ticket has another chance of winning, if you lose. You just have to let me enter it into my pc, then I will be able to check, if you won the main price", he explained to me, while I was turning around and going back to the counter. I let him enter the code and then a loud bell wrang. "Sir, you are quite lucky, you hit the big jackpot of over 50 million US dollars!", he shouted in disbelief. I was astonished. Maybe everything willgo for the better now. I asked him, if he could give me the money right now, but then he explained to me, that I have to go to the lottery company itself to pick it up.
So I ordered an uber and went right there, as it was just a 20 minute drive away.
After getting out of the uber, I entered the big building with the logo of the lottery shining brightly on top of it. The first thing I saw, as I went in, was the beautiful receptionist girl sitting there and staring at me. She probably thinking, what this guy suddenly stopping in the entrance of the building is doing. After a short while of standing stunned in place, I went directly to the girl and told her I won the main jackpot of their lottery and I would like to pick up the price.
"Oh, if you have won that, I will have to get the manager. Could you please wait for a minute or two?", she asked me in response. I nodded and she went into the office right behind the reception. So after waiting for a while, a got bored and started getting up from the couch I sat down prior. I wondered what could take them so long, especially since she told him it would only take a short time. Right in that thought a big looking, buff guy came from the office and he asked:
"Are you the winner of the impossible lottery?"
"Yes, I am!", I answered proudly as I was expecting my price.
"Then eat this!", he shouted whilst pointing a gun at my head and pulling the trigger soon after.
But somehow the bullet got stuck in the gun and it exploded because of that.
"That finally proves it, you are a life hacker. But don't think you will get away from me because of this", he said with a hint of panic in his voice.
And before he even completed his sentence, I started running. I ran and ran and after 5 minutes of non-stop running I couldn't see neither the big guy nor the receptionist anymore. So I went into hiding, trying to avoid them.
After some weeks of research I finally figured it out, why these people were so aggressive towards me. Apparently the people from the lottery are some sort of life police. They are responsible to get rid of people, who managed to do things, life didn't intend them to do. For example winning this impossible lottery. It was set up, so it could only be won by a person, who had more luck than a single person ever should have. And as luck wasn't all seeing, I got caught right into that trap.
Knowing all of this, I started a new life. Running away from the life police, relying on my luck to do so and trying to live as comfortable as possible. Till I died they never managed to catch me. But did I have a bad time? Would I do it again? Would I start this life all over? Would I take the bad luck charm again, even knowing what it would cause me?
Sure as hell I would live this rollercoaster of a life again. | 2020-01-12T13:59:35 | 2020-01-12T12:59:26 | 164 | 43 |
[WP] The hero stared at the boy who was supposed to be his wise old master. "Word of advice. If you ever achieve immortality then wait till you're at least 20", he said in a high pitched voice. | The warrior had seen many things in battle that kept him up at night: the bodies of man and beast twisted together in corpse lattices, blood pooled to his ankles, bubbling and putrid, men stronger than he—weeping as they searched for their own missing limbs. So, when he looked upon the boy, *the master* he had ascended the world's tallest peak to find, all he could manage was laughter.
"Does something amuse you, traveler?" the boy inquired, not opening his eyes or rising from his position of meditation, the falling snow outlining his legs on the rock.
"I was told this mountain was home to a great master, one who has found enlightenment," the warrior tossed his pack to the ground, disrupting the fresh layer of snow into a cloud that rose and fell.
The boy opened his eyes and watched with an arched brow, observing the man as he grunted and discarded his gear so carelessly. "The person who told you this tale is no liar."
The man let his shield down, sitting on the broad metal like a chair, unbuckling the leather straps and laying his sword down in the snow, "Nay, if you're the only person atop this peak, then she truly was nothing but a liar."
"I am the only one here," his voice was soft as the snowflakes that touched down around them. "and I am the master you seek."
Another laugh echoed from the warrior's gut as he stretched his aching legs, not bothering with another glance in the boys direction. "No, you're not."
A blade was at the man's throat before his next breath had escaped his lungs. The child perched atop the rear of his shield like a feather, one hand behind his back, the other pressing the knife firmly to the warrior's neck. The few meters of snow that had been between them remained completely undisturbed—the outline of the boy's legs still on the rock.
Instinctively, the warrior grabbed his weapon, attempting to retract the sword from its sheath. It stuck as he pulled, as if snagged inside.
"The frost, my friend," the boy said. "causes the blade to stick."
"How—" the words struggled to move past the dagger at his throat." How did you do that?"
The boy smiled, catching a snowflake on his tongue before answering, "I am the master you seek, and this is your first lesson."
_____
**Thanks for reading! Sub to /r/BeagleTales for daily prepubescent wisdom.** | 'Frederik, are you sure he is the one?'
'However outrageous it may sound, he is the one we are searching for princess.'
Princess Caroline was in shamble, the one standing in front of her was a child, 9 or 10 from the look of it, and even smaller than her little brother. And yet, he give off a weird aura that she can't explain eventhough she know the way of magic. She look to the hero, Kaska and see that he have the same disbelief look in his eye. Only Frederik, the captain of the guard remain composed, but clearly have some awkwardness about the entire situation.
'Sir Frederik, perhaps this is a joke of some sort? Surely Vinton the Great Sage can't be a kid?'
'See, that's where you are wrong kiddo.' The kid raise his hand with a gesture before Frederik could even reply to the hero question. Suddenly the entire scenery around them change, Caroline can see the fabric of time and reality undone itself and mend back together right before her eye while Frederik and Kaska have a serious case of headache because of their weaker magic atunement. By the time it's over, the four wasn't standing on the flower field of Morlian anymore, but they were in the garden of Longtower castle.
But they weren't the only one there. As soon as Kaska were able to open his eye and see that the scenery have change, he found the four are now surrounded by the Queen's Guard, all with their blade drawn and pointed at the three who are still standing, while princess Caroline have fainted from watching thing that she shouldn't during the teleportation.
'What have you done to the princess? Why are you here in the garden of the Queen?' - the Queen Guard commander shout, unsure of what just happened.
'Not bad, she actually try to read and see what the spell do, albeit a little bit idiotic because she didn't put a mind empower spell on herself first. I don't remember that my teaching was that bad, am I right my dear Josephine?' - the kid speak with his high pitched voice, surprising the guard.
'Insolence, how dare you speak of her majesty name with no honorific!'
'Stand down. You are in presence of the Great Sage. Sheath your weapon immediately!'
As the queen order, the guard slowly back down and put away their weapon. Kaska still haven't figure out what the hell just happened, and Frederik was still trying to pick himself up. Vinton made another gesture and the princess float up and slowly fly over to Kaska while the hero fumble to catch her.
'Hold on to the girl for a while would you. Now, that's that. Let's get down to business shall we?' | 2020-01-25T07:39:01 | 2020-01-25T07:31:31 | 257 | 58 |
[WP] A 16-year-old schoolgirl is taken to a magical world. She slays a dragon, becomes queen, gets married, has kids, and dies 90 years later...only to wake up back at school, young and in her school uniform again, like nothing happened. She notices that her wedding ring is still on her finger. | She blinked. Light. Light and a sent of sanitizer. The ticking of a clock.
That was not was she expected. Darkness ? Sure. A golden gate on a cloud ? Why not. But this, definitely not.
She took a look around. She was laying on a simple, metal bed, with barely a bed sheet, much less a pillow. The light blue wall lacked any golden decoration. Aside from the bed, the little room contained a single metallic shelf. But strangest of all, she could breathe easily. Wasn't she ding ?
\- *Oh good, you're awake. How are you feeling ?*
A feminine voice. She glanced in the sound's direction. A lady wearing a familiar white coat was watching over her.
\- *How are you feeling ?* She gently asked. *Don't rush it, take your time.*
Iris stared at her blankly. Even on her deathbed, nobody would talk to her that way. She was the fierce queen of Lastria. The feared warrior who slayed Yldir, the Dark Dragon at the bare age of sixteen. But this wasn't Lastria. It wasn't even the same world anymore. She took a moment to think.
Her lungs, previously damaged by cancer, an sickness unknown to her kingdom and therefore incurable, were not longer hurting. The modern furniture and her old uniform were proof that she was back on Earth. "*Odd*." she thought.
*- Everything alright ?* The nurse asked, still waiting for Iris's answer
*- Oh yes, thank you.* The sound of her younger voice, long forgotten surprised her. *How long have I been here ?*
*- About two hours. Do you remember the accident ?* Iris shook her head. *A car almost hit you. You hit your head when falling. We'll have to run some tests, you could have a concussion.*
*- ...Sure.* Iris replied. *May I go to the bathroom ?*
The nurse smiled at her. "*Of course"*. She lead the way then left. Iris quickly scanned the room. A bathroom. Her medieval country didn't have those. But she wasn't actually interested in the toilet. Rather, she faced the mirror.
Her hair as were back to their original pitch black color. Not a single grey strand was left. Her blue eyes still had the queen's severe expression though. She took a look at her hands. They had that peach colored nail polish she used to love as a teen. No scars, no wrinkles. They were perfect.
A sparkle caught her attention. Perhaps not so perfect after all. A silver ring shone brightly at her finger, carved with letters of the lastrian alphabet only she could read. It had beautiful red gemstones at its center. A detail out of place, not from this world. Iris knew this ring. She saw it everyday for 80 years. Her wedding ring. A token of love from her late husband and by far her most prized possession.
*- Interesting...* She whispered.
\--- --- ---
Suddenly, a scream. Iris rushed out of the bathroom, only to face the nurse. Huge commotion could be heard from the other side of the infirmary door.
*- Stay inside !*
*- What ? What is going on ?*
*- There is...*
She didn't have the time to finish that sentence. A roar, as powerful as thunder, blasted through the building. Iris's eyes widened. She knew that roar. She was famous *because* of that roar.
A dragon.
Ignoring the nurse, she rushed outside the school building. In front of her was her own legend, brought back to life.
She glanced at her ring. The gift from her beloved husband was imbued with powerful magic. It was more than jewelry. It was a tool, meant to always protect her. Would it still work in this world ?
She touched the biggest ruby and murmured words in a mysterious language. Obeying the magical spell, the ring turned itself into a sword, and the now armed schoolgirl faced the dragon.
*- Nice seeing you again, Yldir*. she smirked. | Another dawn has come. This one is oddly silent. I haven't had a silent dawn since I learned to harness time. I don't hear the roosters crowing, the kitchens churning, the dogs barking, the waterfall should be clear as day from my room. The sound of the waterfall was one of the reasons I made it my final room. Where has that glorious thunder disappeared to? Now all I hear is a low hum. A hum that seems so familiar, like the sound of Amonar, the great dragon, asleep in his lair, but different. Where have I heard it before? Was it one of the singers? One of the lullabies for the children? The sky fliers? Didn't I have the high alchemsit make a dream catcher that made this noise? I don't remember.
The bed feels so soft. Was it always this soft? Something is different. Where are my silk sheets? I had to slay a thousand ice spiders to have those sheets made. They are my death sheets and they shall be my shroud. A sharp reminder to all those who will see them, I ruled over the greatest expansion the realm has ever known. I will banish the servant who had them replaced in the night. What am I saying? Servants don't replace sheets in the night. What do these sheets feel like? Cotton? Maybe they moved me to Sarula's room?
An unfamiliar ceiling? No, wait, I think I recognize it. Nevermind, it's gone. I don't recognize this ceiling at all. The texture, the colors, and the height, are all wrong. Maybe a tavern I stayed at? The height... focus on the height. Why is the ceiling near? What material is that? It isn't stone, of that much I am certain. Every Ceiling in the palace is stone, the most beautiful obsidian. It was harvested in the time of Amonar's ancient ancestors, when human and dragon fought side by side.
That SMELL? It creeps into my mind like a vine into stone. I feel a taste rising in my throat, all bitter and burnt, but with accents of vanilla and hazelnut and .... caramel? I haven't had caramel since before I came to this land. All those years ago, I still remember Tasha, making her morning coffee and threatening to pour it on me if i didn't get out of bed.
"WAKE UP!!" yelled Tasha.
And I awoke, to see Tasha standing over me, holding her coffee in a threatening manner.
" I remember you." I said. Tasha just looked at me and said " Stop being weird. Hurry up and get ready, classes start in 30." Then Tasha left the room and closed the door on her way out. As I sat up, my mind started moving in a thousand directions at once. Classes? Coffee? Ice cream? Chocolate? My Family!? My daughter. The realm, Magic? My husband!? It was like an avalanche inside a closet. When I finally exited my stupor, I realize I was already dressed. How did that happen?
Snap out of it, take stock. You can figure this out. Where am I? I know this room. It is the dorm room I shared at boarding school with Tasha. It is the room that contains the nexus. Who are you? I am the ruler of the 12 realms, the keeper of the final key, I am the herald of the 12th age, and I am the Breaker of Time. I am Alyssa, daughter of neglectful parents, sent off to boarding school, because I no longer fit into either of their lives. When is it? If Tasha's calendar is correct it is the day after my 16th birthday. It is the day after I transcended realms. What am I? I am human, always have been, always will be. What do I have? Everything around me is the same as when I left, as far as I can tell. Right down to my perfectly pressed uniform. As I glance in the mirror though, something about my reflection feels off. It's something I didn't have before. there is a ring on my ring finger. A simple ring, with a weaved pattern alternating between onyx and ivory. The Final key. I have to go back. | 2020-04-21T11:19:29 | 2020-04-21T10:40:48 | 23 | 17 |
[WP] Your older brother has been missing for years. You hear a knock on the door, and you open it to reveal a man that looks like your brother would be at this point. "I'm back man! I'm so sorry!" He hugs you immediately. Just then, you get a text from your brother's old number. "That isn't me." | *That isn't me.*
Hmm. There were two possibilities. Either the man hugging her was an imposter, or the person texting was. Choices, choices. Hmm.
She hugged the man claiming to be her brother back. "It's been six years," she sniffed.
"I know."
"You missed my graduation!"
"I know." He patted her back.
"You missed my *wedding*!" Another sniff.
"I'm sorry."
"You weren't even there to help me bury him."
"I'm--wait, what?"
She grinned. *Gotcha fake.* She pulled back, still sniffling. "He was *cheating* on me," she explained.
Another text came in and she surreptitiously glanced at the screen. *Don't do anything until I get there.*
Aw. Don't worry, big sister's got this covered. The day she can't handle a wannabe was the day she turned in her license as a big sister. "With his *boss*!" she wailed.
She saw the panic in the impostor's eyes a split second before he hugged her close again, heart racing so quickly she could hear it through her sniffles.
By the time her actual brother arrived, the imposter was standing on a chair, cleaning the light bulbs in her living room. He looked at his sister, then looked at the imposter who looked at him sadly and mouthed, "Help me."
Her brother sighed. "I don't know why I was worried," he confessed.
She walked over to him and smacked the back of his head. "Because you've been gone for *six years* and forgot who I am," she informed him. | [That isn't me.]
A text, that's bizzarre. I looked up, meeting his smiling, familiar face. I checked the message once more before sighing. I put my phone back into my pocket. "Brother, come in!" I exclaimed, taking his hands and leading him inside. For a split second his smile turned into something- nasty, yes, that's the right word.
"Would you want some drinks? Your favorite juice, perhaps?"
He replied with a curt nod, I smiled. "Alright, sit down first. I promise I'll be quick." I walked to the kitchen. In the way, I took out my phone and replied to the latest message. A quick [I know.] and the number was blocked. I casted aside my phone, right now, my focus is the juice.
I took out some tomatoes, a carrot, cabbages, all his favorite things. Sugar, he likes his juice sweet and a little pinch of black pepper to enhance the taste. Oh, how can I forgot the cheese and dried tuna? Ah and love, that's important. He loves them., that would be a wonderful addition. Chopped into huge chunks, and then I just put them all into the blender. Served into a jug, the juice is done.
Smiling was my face the entire time, I serve the drink to him. He looked at me in disbelief, I replied with a soft "Enjoy, drink ahead. I make it all just for you."
He seemed hesitant, but drank it ahead. "It... tastes strange. What's in it— wait." He vomited, coughed- lines of curses escaped from his mouth. From afar, I heard the door barged open. It's brother, he's running to here. His face dripping with sweat, eyes frantically looking around.
He looked the imposter and groaned. "God, I'm too late." I chuckled. | 2020-07-23T11:48:16 | 2020-07-23T10:48:47 | 94 | 66 |
[WP] You're just living your life. Calling friends, doing your job, getting groceries. Alas, your narrator is unbearably pretentious, and is trying their best to frame this as a deep metaphor for the human condition no matter how much you try to make them stop. | *Look at it--the monotony, the day-to-day repetition of tasks to get from point A to point B. You're like a carpenter ant; we all are, waiting to be crushed under the boots of greater people.*
I shook my head, sighing, as I ignored the commentary and made another sandwich. Working at Subway during a pandemic wasn't great, but at least not many people came in. Turns out that of all the places to risk going to, Subway isn't high on the list. Shocking, I know.
*A sandwich: the perfect representation of man. Slowly, piece by piece, we're slapped together into a hodgepodge of bad ideas, anxieties and lunch meat. Here we have a prime example of the human condition: what kind of a life is spent making sandwiches for weird old people? I certainly don't know. And yet, though he hates it, our friend here trudges on anyway. It's in his nature--our nature--to carry on like a good little worker ant, even if it's brought us nothing.*
That's the kind of shit I dealt with on a daily basis. Sometimes, it was so brutal that I wanted to cry; I guess, at least, if I had sobbed into someone's sandwich, they probably wouldn't have known. The vinaigrette just tastes like tears anyway.
After work, I stopped by a grocery store for a few small items I'd been needing, like paper towels and disposable dinner plates.
*Now this, dear reader, is the epitome of irony. Watch as our friend here purchases disposable kitchenware--which is an environmental crime, to be sure, but put that aside for now. Instead, think of the similarities, the Freudian aspects. He's too tired to bother with cleaning plates and spoons, so he buys ones that can be thrown out instead. Utensils that can be disposed of once they've served their purpose.*
*Sound like anyone else you know?*
I rubbed my eyes as I went through the self-checkout lane, avoiding the lady monitoring them. She may have said hi, but I kept my eyes glued on the ground, trying to shut that maniacal asshole out of my head, like I always was. God forbid I try to talk to someone and have his words slip out instead.
At home, I dropped my bags on the ground and decided they could be put away later. The trash was piled up, and there were old coffee mugs in the sink, but I figured that could be a job for the next day. I set my free sandwich down on the kitchen counter and filled up a cup with water.
*And, at last, we have our final representation: the cup. Like our hero, it is empty, a vessel waiting to be filled. It could serve any number of simple purposes. But what use is an empty cup? One that is never filled is no more than a waste of space, is it not? And furthermore, even when a cup is used, isn't it only a means to an end? Something used to deliver something of value, then forgotten?*
"For the love of God, would you stop trying to give me an existential crisis? Just for a few minutes?" I shouted, pleading in my empty kitchen. My neighbors probably thought I was insane, if they didn't already. "Is that too much to ask for?"
*Give you one?* it replied. *I am one, you dolt. Go buy a Corvette and be done with it.*
"How? I work at fucking Subway!"
*Exactly. And that's why I'll torment you until you die; life's just a shit sandwich. Bon appétit.*
I sank to my kitchen floor, nothing but a footlong full of expired deli meat and cheese to comfort me. I took a bite, taking no time to savor it's nuances, and laughed.
"You're every bit as pointless as I am," I said to myself. "Probably even worse, because at least I get to taste the shit sandwich."
It offered no response to that.
---
/r/resonatingfury | Bob walked briskly to the roof of his apartment. Once there, he took out a cigarette and lighted it with his flashy chrome lighter. The thought of slow agonising death from cancer through this simple action didn't even occur to him. He knew of the consequences from constantly smoking these things, yet he chalked it up as a small displeasure for such a satisfying vice. With each huff and puff, he continued to poison his lungs and organs willingly.
Before long, he took his final drag and threw the still smoking butt towards the ground. He stepped on it with his boots with the might of a thousand-wildebeest stampeding across the savannah. His eyes darted around, like a lost child in a supermarket. His brows curled up in fury and he mumbled something in annoyance.
Then, he took out his phone and furiously scrolled through his contact list.
"Mike, hello? Goddamnit, am I the only one hearing this shit?!" Bob said in frustration.
"Look, man... I think you need to cool off the kool-aid for a bit."
"No! I'm serious! Listen!"
Bob flailed his phone around, as if trying to find a signal in a forest or somewhere as remote.
"See! Did you see that?!"
"No? Also, why 'see'? I thought you said it's a *voice*. Damnit, Bob, I think you better see someone–"
"I'm not crazy! Fuck, why do I need to see someone?!"
"... I'll send you a contact. He's a great doctor, friend of mine. Do you need a shrink as well?"
Bob pondered for a second. He'd seen *many* depiction of this exact thing before in movies and films. The thought of being perceived as a man with a screw loose up in his head simply made him chuckle softly.
Instead of a response – which a normal person would give – he put his phone away and ran back inside. He descended the stairs like an unstoppable train running towards its timetable. But just as he was about to reach the ground floor, he saw an elderly woman weakly waved at his general direction.
"Hi there, Bob!"
"Huh," Bob did a double take and put on the emergency breaks, "hi there, Mrs. Graham!"
"Ah, you're *finally* doing exercise? Or are you just in a hurry to get to somewhere important?"
"No, I'm just–" the gears in Bob's head started to turn before coming to a conclusion that his explanation might simply be seen as a rambling of a madman, "I'm late for a meeting, mam... Do you mind?"
The elderly lady nodded and Bob dashed through her like his life was on the line. Such was the conduct of the younger generation these days.
Bob ran and mumbled, seemingly without any clear destination in mind. But before long, he had reached a park which was as desolate as a graveyard.
"Hey, man! Listen," Bob said to himself whilst looking up to the cloudy blue sky, "can you do me a fucking favour and *leave* me alone?! Please, I'm just... not in a good place right now!"
Bob unknowingly screamed towards the sky. His voice echoed as a couple of seconds passed before he heard his voice ricocheting off the nearby buildings.
"Bro, I'm so sick of this! I wish I can just fucking kill you or somethin–"
"Excuse me, young man..."
Suddenly a stern authoritative voice had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. The dark blue uniform and distinct cap alerted him to the situation at hand.
"Y-Yes, officer?"
"Are you okay, son? I don't mean to interrupt but–"
"Oh, no! No, officer! I'm just... talking to myself!"
"Uh, huh," the officer kept his distance from Bob and hovered his hands above his holster.
Bob took the brief lull and quickly thought of ways to avoid trouble. He was sure that the position he was in simply would end in a *very* bad conclusion.
"I'm... an actor! I'm sorry if I was a bit loud or weird, maybe even both!"
"I see, well just know that you're in public right now. There are people living and doing things so don't do anything *too* weird, eh?" | 2020-08-22T07:53:58 | 2020-08-22T06:52:57 | 68 | 26 |
[WP] “You’ve reached 911. This service is no longer operational. All citizens are advised to seek shelter. Goodbye.”
[deleted] | We'd stayed as long as we could.
So many phone calls. So many reasons for the calls over the years we'd been on the lines. Medical emergencies, gunshots, drunk drivers, one memorable little girl calling for someone to help her make Jell-O, the rapes, the arson, the all of it bloody and crying, and only some bright shining moments of beautiful human heroes.
No one had imagined the sky cracking open. The skittering flights of creatures that came in the first week. Still we stayed and answered the calls. No rapes, no arson anymore. Just medical dispatches, always the gunshots and, now poisonings too thanks to the stingers on the flying skyspawn...
Always the calls. So many calls. Still we stayed. The center was stocked with supplies so we stayed on the lines. More weeks passed and the creatures changed. Humanity cracked. Civilization cracked.
People calling now, just to hear voices of others. Certainly weren't any helplines we could refer them to, no one coming to drop off a hot meal for those without food. Just a quiet voice on the line, "We're sorry, I don't have anyone, but keep trying to apply pressure to the wound. .. ", "No, don't induce vomiting, what she swallowed will burn her airways... "
And then, finally, there was no reason to keep it up. No calls for three days for anyone. From anyone. Whatever it was, it was over.
I recorded the message in my calm, steady voice, "You’ve reached 911. This service is no longer operational. All citizens are advised to seek shelter. Goodbye."
I flipped the phone system switch to OUTGOING.
A final glance amongst my coworkers, and we headed out the doors to the nothing that was left. | [TW : child abandonment]
[writing on mobile so formatting sucks]
“You’ve reached 911. This service is no longer operational. All citizens are advised to seek shelter. Goodbye.”
She giggled, pleased to have made some noise with the phone in her hand. She pressed the screen again.
“You’ve reached 911. This service is no longer operational. All citizens are advised to seek shelter. Goodbye.”
She didn't understand what the foreign, robotic words meant. She barely understood her mother when she spoke. Babbling softly under her breath, she leaned back against her mother's purse, fiddling with the blue and white tattered blanket under her. She made a face when dirt got on her fingers.
All around her, grass stretched as far as she could see. In the distance, some buildings suggested a city. She wondered what could be going on there. For a moment, she felt a wave of longing for her house, and her bed, and for her mom to pick her up and sing to her.
"Mommy?" she called out, feeling a bubble of fear and despair raise in her. "Mommy!"
She pressed the phone again, feeling somewhat comforted by the voice.
“You’ve reached 911. This service is no longer operational. All citizens are advised to seek shelter. Goodbye.”
“You’ve reached 911. This service is no longer operational. All citizens are advised to seek shelter. Goodbye.”
She pressed it again, only to be faced with silence. She stared at it, her red face scrunched in concentration at the black screen. Again and again she pressed it, then she let out a wail and threw the useless phone away. It fell to the ground a few feet away from her.
Her eyes looked around, searching for her mom. She let out another scream of frustration and brought her tiny fists down on her knees.
All that could be heard in that silent field was her sobs, until eventually she tired herself out. The little girl laid on the blanket, clutched a corner in her hand, and fell asleep.
No one would be coming back for her. | 2020-09-12T11:47:29 | 2020-09-12T11:13:13 | 46 | 20 |
[WP] The zombie apocalypse has happened. You have a rural farm in the middle of nowhere and a group decides to raid it only to discover that you have done the impossible. You have turned the zombies into pets. They are very protective. | The door to our hideout slammed open, with the deafening sound of rotten wood smashing clay bricks. The other squadmates nearly jumped out of their seats, and scattered their playing cards on the concrete floor, but I didn't move an inch.
A man stepped out from the opening, panting heavily, but unwounded.
"Howard! Status report!" I barked out, in the firm tone I have now claimed as my natural voice.
"The... the expedition... the raid... cancel it", he said, speaking in between rapid exhalations, caused by fear and physical exhaustion alike.
I got up, confused, and invited him to drink a few glassfuls of water. He consumed much more liquid than my strict rationning plan allowed him, but I let the infraction slide, eager to hear why he wanted us to abandon the raiding expedition we had started planning a week ago.
"The Miller farmhouse... It is protected. Heavily defended. I barely made it out safely. I don't want to go back there ever again", he said, progressively slowing his rapid respiration.
"Protected? As far as I can tell, the owner doesn't have the funds to hire a defense squad, and even less the charisma to organize such a group. I gave you the very best equipment of our arsenal, and you have showed your prowess with it countless times before. Surely a pistol-wiedling nutjob would be the least of your worries?"
Howard rubbed his hands together, clearly at a loss for words. Then, he regained his composure, looked at me in the eye, and said simply:
"Zombies."
"What?" I replied, shocked. "Zombies? You and I both know that is impossible. Those things attack anything that breathes without discrimination. It would be unthinkable for even the most well-armed man to gather a large group of these monsters without getting devoured in return; you have to understand I have trouble believing that a countryside farmer somehow managed to enlist a zombie militia that scared off my greatest scout and marksman."
"They're... tamed. The old granny Miller stands among them as if she was one of them. They obey her every command like loyal dogs. As soon as I tried to breach the silo, she waved a finger in my general direction, and was almost instantly swarmed. It's a miracle I managed to escape. Fortunately, the creatures don't seem to want to leave the farmgrounds."
"Listen, Howard. You're spouting nonsense. You've heard what the scientists were saying when this all started, right? What we call zombies are in fact animal-plant hybrids. Their metabolism and movement is sustained by the energy of the sun; that is why they have green skin. However, their vegetal biology lacks regenerative properties; their skin and muscles are bound to deteriorate and decay until they become a rotting pile of flesh. To avoid this, they must consume living animal organic matter, and replace their defective tissue with their victim's. Do you understand? They *have* to maul every living thing they come across, or else they are doomed to wither away. There's no way a loner like that lady Miller could keep them around for days, preventing this natural deterioration, and to somehow be spared herself on top of it all-"
Howard's face suddenly lit up, seemingly struck with a sudden understanding of the situation.
"Plants. That's it."
He smiled, then continued speaking.
"She's farming them. That crazy Miller killed one of the bastards in the wild a while ago, and instead of burning the corpse like any sane person would do, decided to plant a pound of zombie flesh in the ground, just to see what happens. She always did have that natural curiosity. I heard she wanted to be a doctor when she was a little girl."
Howard, encouraged by my sudden interest, continued to formulate his theory with even more enthusiasm, drawing a few squadmembers closer, who had become interested in his story.
"Remeber when I called those creatures 'loyal dogs' earlier? I think that's precisely what happened. When the first batch of new zombies started to raise from the soil, she culled the aggressive ones, and kept the most docile specimens. Just like the men of the past did it many millenia ago, she turned rabid wolves into obedient critters, fierce against whatever threathens their master, but affectionate with those who feed them."
Now sharing his excitement, but still not entirely convinced, I asked:
"But... How does she feed them? The Miller place is in the middle of nowhere! There's no way she could keep a steady supply of fresh humans to keep her little army alive!"
Howard approached his face closer to mine, and simply said, in a stern voice:
"I've been keeping watch on the Miller farmhouse for a while now. I used to take the greatest caution while approaching the fields surrounding the silos, due to the eerie silence surrounding the place, but since a few days, I've noticed that a constant, loud ambient sound has made taking precautions for keeping quiet much more trivial. A sound which was commonplace in farmhouses like the Miller's, long before the first sightings of the zombies, back when the world was at least slightly normal."
He moved even nearer to my visage, until our noses touched each other, and whispered:
"An oinking, grunting sound. Soon, the Miller lady will be leading the charge of an army of pig-zombies. At this rate, there will be hundreds of them. It's only a matter of time before she runs out of soil, and seeks more land to grow her pets. She'll be unstoppable. We need to move out, quickly."
In one solemn motion, I stood up from my chair, and gave the order to my men to gather their belongings.
We were not going to die here, mauled by a horde of unnatural beasts that should not even exist, lead by a deranged woman who would soon be known as the new ruler of the land. | I hear a loud slam on my rustic door under me. I press a little, makeshift button three times. Gruff snarls echo over my loudspeaker above my house. I casually stroll to the dirty glass window in the room I’m in, wooden flooring creaking slightly.
I peer out, looking down, I see a group a three or so people decked out in some rifles and pistols. I made the right call, good. I decide to check the barn, swiftly exiting the room I’m residing in. I arrive in the familiar, run-down wooden hallway. Crossing it, and passing a few doors and staircase, I arrive at a large, thick, iron door. It took a crap ton of work to get my house to be able to support this door, and it better be worth it. I tap a long password in to a electronic device, it approves my password with a satisfying little ding.
I step step into a large, two-story room with a couple fancy electronic thingys scattered about. The room is reinforced with iron, but is made out of mostly wood and brick. Iron is rather difficult to get, so I can’t splurge too much. I go down some steps and enter the lower floor, this time I’m surrounded by an large swath of electronics. I walk up to the largest screen, it’s maybe one person high. I press a couple buttons under the screen. It shows a feed of an overwhelming amount of cameras. I change it to just six.
I check my large red barn. I see the chipped brown paint, revealing rotting wood. I check my cows, chickens, and other animals. Still fine, good, I can go full force. Suddenly, my audio feed sounds, a light shrill buzz reaches my ears, telling me that yes, this is audio from you microphones in your house.
“John McLloyd, this is the final warning, if you do not open your door right this instant, we will be forced to enter your house.”
Sure, I’ll let them, it’ll be their death. A thunk, then another, then another, is heard through my audio feed. Then a loud crash, they’re in. One thing nags at me, how do they know my name?
My audio feed crackles again, “what are we looking for?” Asks a stern voice.
“I don’t know Sarah, I only know what the Government said, which they got through frequencies they picked up,” says a low-pitched voice.
“They tracked the frequencies to here though?” Asks Sarah.
“Yeah, something to do with the Western Zombies,” replies the lower-pitched voice.
“That’s gotta have something to do with that growl we heard earlier. I can’t dwell on that now, keep looking,” replies Sarah.
Ok, that group is not here for my livestock. The Government is on to me. I’ll have to worry about that later. I check the feed of my entryway, it has some neatly arranged rustic furniture. The group seems to be ruffling through that area.
“This guy has a very fancy house, cushioned couches, that’s a rarity,” comments Mark.
“Yeah, this John was one of the top ten richest of the World ten years ago. He disappeared mysteriously. The Government tracked him to here, and picked up some weird frequencies coming from here,” replies Sarah.
The Government knows a lot more about me then I’m comfortable with. The loudspeakers a major giveaway, but nothing I can do about that now.
Audio comes through again, “Mark, did you catch that?” Asks Sarah.
“Uhh, Sarah that sounds like a lot of Westerns,” says Mark.
“Yeah, not good,” replies Sarah.
“We shall head upstairs, for better shooting,” says a new voice, strong and commanding.
The group rush up the rickety stairs, and find themselves in my upstairs hallway. I don’t have any cameras installed yet, was planning on doing that maybe next month. I’ll have to rely on my audio feed to get an idea of what the Government group is doing.
“Hey Mark, do you see that iron door, we’ll cut that open, you hold the Zombies off. They’ll likely be Westerns, so be prepared to shoot them a bunch to get them down,” says Sarah calmly.
“Arinthia and Sarah, hand me your guns, and you two use the slicer to get through.”
“Quick lets cut through!” Shouts Sarah.
Dang it, come on, Westerns, please catch them in time. I adjust my commands slightly from the loudspeaker. A new snarl comes through,
“What the... the Westerns are using they’re body parts as shields,” Mark says, shock evident in his voice, as gunshots sound from next to him. “He’s controlling the Western’s with the loudspeakers, I have never in my entire life seen a Western try to protect it’s vulnerable body parts. Ok, we might be able to stop him if we get in that door. Should I help?” Mark asks stupidly.
“Mark, continue shooting, so we can not die. Me and Sarah are to continue with the slicer,” yells Arinthia.
“Hurry up women, I can only hold them for so long,” says Mark, with constant sounds of guns coming from next to him.
A loud shriek of pain is heard from Mark.
“Mark, no, no, no, this is the end, huh?” Mutters Sarah, defeated.
“We served the government until the end, and that is admirable.”
Not wanting to hear any more, I turn off the audio receptors from the second floor.
I beat them, the Westerns won. I wait another two minutes, and change the command on my loudspeaker. I tell them to return to one of my barns. Well, the government is after me now, I’ll need to tighten up security a lot. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll pull through, the Government barely has any manpower to begin with. I know very well what the Government will do with this knowledge, and I have to protect it.
Tips always appreciated!
Definitely a more experimental story, considering a third of it is audio dialogue.
r/CascadeCorner | 2020-09-14T19:44:20 | 2020-09-14T19:24:27 | 136 | 15 |
[WP] You are a third generation guard for the holy immortals, and you have finally have received the greatest accolade that they can bestow on your kind... "Good boy", says your immortal master. | As the legend goes there have always been two. An Elder and a Younger to serve the Great One. This was told to me by my Elder after I completed the three rites of passage.
The first was my naming. The great one plucked me from the squirming pile of my brothers and sisters, held me close and called me Sampson. A good name I think. The second was receiving the collar of service. It marked me as a loyal guardian of my Great One. The third and most important was the bloodline sacrifice. A guardian should not be distracted by the desire of offspring. It is enough to serve.
The Great One would always have two guardians. At the end of a long life of loyal service, the Elder would be granted the final rest and after a time a new Younger would be selected.
It has been many years now since my Elder was granted his rest and no new younger has been chosen. I continue to serve with loyalty nonetheless even though I am getting slower and my joints ache.
I have been given the highest honours in my service, the biggest was being called "Good Boy". It made my heart swell with pride and my tail thumped loudly on the floor.
The Great One rises from his chair. He looks at me and says "It's time. Let's go for a ride.". I always enjoy rides. We move so fast. Faster than I could run even in my youth. I can't run so fast anymore though. The Great One opens the door and I slip as I try to climb in. I try again but to no avail. The Great One then picks me up and puts me inside, giving me a pat on the head.
After some time, we stop and the Great One open the door for me. Getting out is always easier and I don't feel do old doing it.
The place we are at smells funny. He brings me in and I remember it as where I gave my sacrifice. Why would he bring me here?
I am brought into a small room and the Great One picks me up and puts me on a high place. Another great one enters and they talk. The other sticks a thing in my leg. It hurts a little but I am brave and the Great One is here with me. He looks at me and says it's to to go to sleep now and I realize that I am being given my final rest.
I DONT WANT TO GO! Who will guard the Great One? I look at the Great One and for the first time I see that he too is old. The fur on his head is thin and white like mine. He is slower too, like me. As I feel the warm blanket of sleep start to wrap around me, I realize why there was no new Younger. Why I am the last guardian. My Great One always treated his guardians with kindness and as my final act of loyalty, I pull myself from sleeps embrace and lick the Great Ones hand to bestow the highest honour I can. Good Boy. | As I was going to my post I saw another boy standing there about 20s or mid 20s in age. I walked toward him and said "Boy this is my place of duty"
"I was asked to stand there and was asked to give you the message that you have been summoned to meet His Holiness in Immortal Palace." He replied
As i was moving toward the palace I thought "Have I done anything to offend the Holy Immortal"
As I reached inside the palace I saw Holy Immortal sitting behind his Table writing something which probably I cannot comprehend since they deal with the working of life and death itself. I walked toward the table and stopped at some 4-5 foot so and I bowed and in that state I said "Your Holiness I was summoned by you!"
"Yes, Come stand near the table I have to give you something that may make your future a little good or in your opinion a Best it has ever been!" He replied in a tone that resembled a old voice.
I walked toward the table and stood just behind it facing his Holiness. Then again I bowed to not offend or seem some disrespectful donkey.
"Hmm" He murmured and continued "Oh! Just stop doing that bowing again and again, doesn't that make your head and back ache?"
"No, your Holiness! It does not!" I replied.
"Well, whatever! Just stop that and take this" he put a letter and a badge on it as I getting straight posture. I took it with a confused look and then suddenly he said "Come here Boy."
"Boy? I am 30, well in his age that must be boy" I thought as I went near him and as I was about to bow again he just stopped me and said "I did said stop it right?" And then suddenly he patted my head and hugged me and suddenly said "Good Boy!"
What the hell is going on here, I'm third generation of my household that is serving to his Holiness and I've heard that before me that served him didn't even received this their whole generation! And I get this!
'Why' Is what I wanna ask him but will not as it will just seem rude and I just took the batch and letter and again bowed to him and I got outside his palace. I was going toward the gate but stopped in the middle of the pathway and opened the letter out of curiosity and saw its contents which simply wrote "this is to inform Kellstok that he has been granted a 'Good boy' from his Holiness which is a highest and greatest accolade one can receive from him and will be promoted to a much higher post to Chief Holy guard and will be granted any good noble house present in his territory!"
I couldn't comprehend what was going on then suddenly I saw a carriage stopped near the royal and wide gate. Then a figure for out of the carriage from inside and came walking toward me and stopped and said "Good Boy Kellstok I presume you are?"
Wow listening that made me uncomfortable but was good and satisfying at the same time and suddenly I remembered that he asked me something but I forgot what and I just said "Yes" without any thinking.
"Come you have some important work to do, sir!" As he said he grabbed my hand and took me to the carriage and said "after you, sir!" | 2020-09-23T15:34:53 | 2020-09-23T09:29:13 | 73 | 17 |
[WP] From the point of view of bugs, we are unknowable eldritch gods. We are malevolent, immortal, and giant. We are always looking to hunt them, destroying their shelters and stomping on them. They exist at our whim. And there's billions of us.
Inspired by u/Surinical's post. | How did it come to this? I was but a simple cockroach surviving on this terrain of wooden mountains. Finding shelter in the shadows these looming mountains cast, finding whatever scraps of food left over on the dirt-- it's a life, not much, but simple and enjoyable enough.
Until one day I was woken up by an unusual occurrence. At first I thought the world was coming to an end. Tremors-- almost on in-insect level reverberated all across the wooden floor of this terrain.
I was fearful, but my curiosity got the better of me. Off from my shelter I went out, trudging through the wooden mountains though something felt...off. The mountains felt unusually heavy...
I looked up and my eyes bugged out-- massive creatures, million times larger than the biggest beetle I've ever encountered sitting on top of the mountains!
One...two...three...many, many of them I couldn't count, screeching ungodly sound-- roars, hollering, language I couldn't comprehend. I almost went crazy from it.
I sprinted forward with the kind of courage I knew I didn't have, but I did it anyway. To the edge of the mountains, to the open clearing facing the endless field-- the wooden terrain I rarely ventured to.
What I saw was beyond my comprehension. It was almost cosmic, it was horror beyond my imagination.
I saw these eldritch creatures, they were like gods! One...two...three...there were ten of them running around the endless field, that at least I could count. Running back and forth, jumping, smashing against each other, moving at ungodly speed, leaping at ungodly height. Every step they took sent quakes all over the terrain, each one of them felt like thundering cannon I had to brace myself not to be blasted away.
I began to hyperventilate, I was panicking! These eldritch gods, they...no way...they...they were fighting, yes they were involved in some sort of cosmic battle!
How could I tell? Well, these gods were fighting for a planet! Yes, a planet! It's true! I saw it! An orange planet was easily held on the hands of these gods! Imagine if you will, it was a planet! And it was held on their hands! Can you even imagine the size of these creatures? They bounced it on the wooden terrain, throwing it easily like you would throwing a speckle of dust!
I did not envy the inhabitants of that planet, as it seemed these gods really enjoyed the suffering of it. The gods threw the planet high up in the air, putting it through some kind of a cosmic loop hung high up in space.
It must be some sort of a ritual, this war. Because every time they did so, those who occupied the mountains roared in excitement.
I was overwhelmed. I didn't know how long I stayed there and witnessed such event, but I was finally done. The incomprehensible sight I saw before me and the air-quake above me...it was all too much!
I turned tail and ran back, back to the safety of my shelter. Under the shadows, away from it all. All I could do was to close my eyes and pretend that all of this was but a nightmare...
Oh gosh, I still could hear it in my head. The last roar of the battle, it still echoed in my head...
"And LeBron took the ball and...OHH! HE DID IT! HE SCORED WITH 3 SECONDS ON THE CLOCK! THE LAKERS JUST WON THE CHAMPIONSHIP!"
r/HangryWritey | "Please! Queen, allow us to break our vow of silence. The humans have long since forgotten what we've done for them!" Antwon pleaded to the queen, covering his head as gravel and dust descended upon the spacious room, rumbling periodically before returning to its still state.
"We're the ones who've forgotten. We will stay silent until the last of us die out. That is an order, and our promise to them," Antae, Queen of Ants, spoke with sternness as her voice was nearly drowned out by a loud thumping as the rumbling continued.
"I was afraid you'd say that..."
"Many fear the truth, others fight for it, and some, some attempt to bury it."
"Goodbye, Queen."
"It's not a goodbye if I never truly knew you..." The cove they dwelled in crashed in, leaving Antae in a pile of rubble. Antwon narrowly escaped by digging a hole into the ground and covering it before any rocks could find their way to him.
Antwon began to rub his antennas as he sat in the shallow hole he'd dug, hoping to connect with his crew.
"ANT-C2-- Is everyone okay??" Antwon spoke to himself, seemingly awaiting an answer as his antennas began to tingle.
"Antopy, here."
"Antie, here."
"Apple, here."
"Great. The Queen has been dispatched. There's no going back now. We'll march onto the land in search of the one in charge of the humans. We'll find out why they broke their vow to us. We'll unbury the truth that has been hidden from us. Though we may be small, our futures are large. We'll meet at the top of the hill in three minutes, don't be late."
"Yes, Sir!"
Antwon hurriedly dug out of his tomb, clawing away at it until he reached sunlight. His blood was cold yet his body boiled, was it from the giddiness in his heart, or was it the sun that seemingly stabbed into him each ray of sunlight expunged from the gaseous ball of heat above him? Antwon could not tell. He only knew one thing, how to continue marching forward. Antwon climbed through a small crevice, finally breaching the path to the outside world as he gazed upon a hill that nearly blocked out the sun.
It was his home, the only one that he'd known. He built it from the ground up alongside his brothers, day by day, grain by grain, with only a feeling in his gut that could be described as shame. His brothers were gone, long gone, at least the ones he grew up with.
Antwon peered at the mountain, studying it dutifully as he saw his three comrades sitting at the top of it, waving to him from far away with smiles on their faces. Antwon wondered why they smiled, had they never known anguish?
"Are you all ready to go!?" Antwon spoke through his antennas as they once again jiggled.
"Y-yes, but... where are we going?" Apple retorted with confusion, "You never told us where we'd find the truth."
"That's because I don't know--"
"You don't know?!"
"I will not lie. But what I do know is this, there was a rumor of a certain man who witnessed the treaty signing of both the humans and ants generations ago," Antown spoke with decisiveness in his tone as set his gaze upon the three of his peers the sunlight began fading away into darkness.
"Where is he?"
"Antarctica."
"What's that?"
"Long ago, we built a utopia on a large mass of land, larger than anything we've ever seen before. The world as we know it now has changed. Lies have been made up about it being a large block of ice, or a wall. But if there's one truth I know, we'll find our answers there." | 2021-06-26T23:56:32 | 2021-06-26T23:10:43 | 28 | 14 |
[WP] As you sip your morning coffee, you open up your Sims Universe 3 game on your quantum computer. As you zoom in on a planet you've been watching and tormenting, you notice the governments of the world building a strange device. A flash. A man appears before you. "Are you god?" He asks. | The question replayed in my head a moment later after this strange, funny-smelling man appeared in my office.
*"Are you god?"*
*"Well, not exactly..."*
I had to be careful in what I say, as this was the craziest situation I had ever been in. This man was clearly from the Imsobored Universe that I had created on my computer. He looked around my office and gave inquisitive looks at almost every single office supply. Then he looked at me and asked a question.
*"Where am I? I can understand you, but nothing seems familiar and the words on your books seem to be in another language."*
*"This is earth. I speak in a language called English."*
*"Fascinating, my language is called Fenglish. But it seems the written text is a bit... different."*
He looked all around until he glanced at my computer screen and was astonished. He clearly recognized what a computer was, but didn't expect his planet to be on screen. He sat down at the chair and began asking a few more questions about his universe. He clicked around until finally he accidentally unleashed a hurricane on his home planet and then... a chuckle?
*"Oh this is quite fun. These bastards tormented me and wanted to send me to another dimension as punishment. Looks like the chairs have turned!"*
*"You mean tables?"*
*"What's a table?"*
*"Oh that doesn't matter. Try unleashing this giant lizard monster on them!"*
He laughed devilishly as I pulled up a chair next to him and we spent the next few days torturing his home planet. He came up with far crueler and creative ways to torture the planet than I could have imagined. Of course I let him stay for free as we plotted other civilizations' demise.
/r/tamarche for more of my work <3 | God? This digital character asked me if I’m god? That’s so strange. I didn’t know they could do that.
I look at the screen and decide to answer. “Yes”.
I give a chuckle and press enter.
He stares at me for a few seconds. “Why must you torment us?”
I was surprised again, but I still answered. “Cuz I’m bored”
The digital man looked very confused. “You’re bored? Why does your form of amusement involve hurting us?” He asks.
“You’re not real.”
I was starting to doubt my answer but that was truly why I tortured this planet.
“We are real.” He said. “WE ARE REAL.” He screamed why banging on the screen. What’s weird is that I felt the vibrations every time he banged.
“Where are you from?” He asked while calming down.
“Illinois.” I answer truthfully.
Illinois exists in this game. The planet I’ve been tormenting is a copy of earth.
“Illinois? You can’t be from there.” He said.
“Not in your, “dimension”. Your earth is a copy of my real life earth.” I explain.
“So are you a human?”
“Yes, I’m just playing a game on my computer.”
I decide to just close the game. I start to drag my mouse to save and quit but the man grabbed my arrow on the screen and broke it.
“You’re not going anywhere. Now that I know you’re a human, I will make you suffer like we did.”
The man got a hammer and broke through the screen. He pushed his hand through and got ahold of my shirt.
“GET OFF OF ME!” I shout.
“SUFFER LIKE WE DID.” He kept repeating.
His grip was strong and so was his pull. He kept tugging at me.
I remembered the off button on my computer and turned it off. The man’s arm dissipated and my computer screen was automatically fixed.
“Ok well, since I didn’t save, I’ll just not say what I said next time.” I say to myself.
I turn my computer back on and try again. | 2021-06-29T11:50:43 | 2021-06-29T10:16:05 | 52 | 20 |
[WP] You're a mimic. You were disguised as a chair in a dungeon when an adventurer decided to take you as loot. You've actually enjoyed your life ever since as furniture in a jolly tavern. So when some ruffians try to rob the now-elderly adventurer's business, you finally reveal yourself. | "What are you hooligans doing?" I cried. "This is an old and respected establishment."
"Oy, Cap!" one of the ruffians cried. "Look at this. The chair can talk."
The captain of the ruffians strode up and loomed over me. He was tall and swarthy, with a bushy black beard. He wore a faded blue tunic, and held a steel dagger in his hand.
"You're pulling my leg," the Captain said to his minion. His voice was low and gravelly.
"He might be," I said. "But I'm not. On account of I don't got hands to pull with."
"A talking chair," the captain remarked with a smirk.
"A shapeshifter," I corrected. "A mimic. I can be anything I set my mind to."
"Yet you choose to be a chair."
"Why not?" I said. "What's wrong with chairs? We're incredibly stable. Always around for people to lean on when they need support. We get more ass than wealthy princes. Plus it's nice having long slender legs, a sturdy midsection and broad shoulders, as it were. It's not the physique of your hyper-masculine heroes. But it's handsome proportions nevertheless. I'd rather be a chair than Hercules. And that's the honest truth."
"I don't believe you," said the captain. "I don't think you're a mimic at all. I think you're an enchanted chair, trying to talk big to scare us off. Trying to make us believe you could transform into something truly menacing. But in the end you're nothing more than kindling for tomorrow's bonfire."
"Now who's the one talking big?" I said. "You think you're so tough, come take a seat on me. See what happens."
"Fine," said the captain. "I will."
So he strode up and sat down upon me. But all of a sudden the tall bearded captain was sitting upon a tall bearded captain--a squatting replica of himself.
"Get off me!" I cried with his low and gravelly voice, pushing the man off my lap.
He turned and saw himself--the same beard, the same blue tunic--and we began to wrestle. Our strengths were equal. Our moves were the same. We rolled over one another and back again, until each had the other pinned.
"Get him off me!" we cried to our minions.
The minions looked at one another, confused.
"Kill him!" we shouted. "Stab him! Anything! I'm the real captain! Not him!"
"But captain," said the green-eyed minion, addressing me.
"We're not sure who's who," said the bald minion, addressing him.
"I'm me!" we bellowed. "He's him! Argh! Urgh! Why can't you idiots see?"
In a puff of dark smoke I disappeared. I stood behind the green-eyed minion, pointing at the captain on the ground.
"That one's the imposter," I said. "Kill him dead!"
The green-eyed minion nodded, grabbed his dagger, raised it above his shoulder. Then he paused and slowly turned to face me. He stared with his green eyes into my green eyes. A look of confusion contorted his shiny face at the same moment it contorted my shiny face. With his free hand he grabbed the christian crucifix that hung around his neck, as I did with the identical crucifix hanging around mine.
"Kill him!" the captain shouted.
"But that would be suicide," we whimpered.
"It's not suicide!" the captain bellowed. "He's not you!"
"He sure looks like me," we said, and gulped. "I don't know boss. This is weird shit man. I'm feeling overwhelmed. I think I need to sit down."
In a puff of black smoke I was a chair again, and the green-eyed minion sat back upon me. The captain was getting to his feet. The bald minion was scouring the room.
"Where is he?" asked the captain. "Where did he run off to?"
"Run?" I repeated from under the minion's rump. "I might have four legs, but I'm not much of a runner."
"I'm going to kill you," the captain growled as he stomped over to me.
"Break a leg," I said brightly.
He paused, frowned. "But not tonight. Another night. We have better things to do. More important places to be."
\- - -
check out r/CLBHos for more stories! | I grew up in the dark depths, a place where large hairy spiders sneak through the roof; a place where giant slugs inch themselves forward; a place where no child is found wandering, for long at least.
In a way I think I'm like them. My teeth are sharp like theirs. I find myself thinking vile thoughts every now and then. I get really worked up when a human comes close to me, less now then in the past, but I still feel it, that itch to just... be a monster, to destroy.
I don't want to be one. I want to be good. I want to have friends, people to laugh with, to hug, to argue and scream at. I want to go to sleep knowing that I did something good, that I was someone good.
I think back to my time in the dungeon. I was lonely. Isolated. I sat in the corner, completely still, driven crazy by my own thoughts. Each time a group of adventurer's came I'd take it out on them. The screams, the flesh, the fear kept me sane in a way.
I'm still in the corner, but instead of a dungeon I'm in a little tavern. I act the little chair in front of the piano. The one nobody uses except for the little kid that comes in around morning to fuddle a few notes and so. He's really progressed over the years. It's actually pleasant to hear him play now.
It's night now. The windows are black. It's turning a bit chilly. Scrubbing a glass, and whistling to himself, Roflo looks pleased; and tired, he always looks tired.
Today had been a long day of work, filled with many odd happenings. Earlier an odd man walked in. Fidgeting, and shaking, he stay to the topic nor sit still for more than a second. When Roflo told him to pay, he spat at Roflo. The other customers threw him out as he cursed how unfair the whole thing was.
The door opened, the bell rung, a figure glid into the room. It was the boy from before. He held a knife in his shaking hands, and he stared at Roflo. The cold air from the outside blew the candles out. It turned dark, only the eyes of the boy and the barkeeper shining.
"You fucking pig," the boy said, "it's your fault. People like you are the problem." He took a few steps forward. "I tried getting work. I tried but nobody would let me in, just cause I can't sit still. Now you punish me?"
"Boy, don't do anything stupid," Roflo said.
"Hahahha, I'll do as I please for once. You'll fell the pain I feel all the time, after I carve your face up. People will look at you as a monster as well."
*Monster.* The word made my heart jolt. My body heated up, became sweaty and uncomfortable. I had to move, I couldn't stand still. I stood up, the chair morphing, showing a large jaw in the middle, with a large tongue, and a row of spiky teeth. Two hands ticking out of my side. Their eyes shifted to me, the boy tumbling down on the floor.
"A m-mimic," the boy stuttured.
"How does it feel when someone calls you a monster?" I asked him, approaching him, his face growing white.
"How does it feel?" He repeated in chock. "It feels bad. It feels like I'm odd. Like I'm less then them. I just want to fit in. I just want to be a part of them. Why won't they give me a chance? Just one chance." Tears made the boys eyes wet.
I hugged him. My arms are cold, icy almost, and his are warm, but I still made sure to hug hard. He sobbed silently.
"Let it all out. Come with me. Follow me," I said leading him to the counter. I sat down on the chair, a chair sitting on a chair, and he sat down beside me. "Two beers Roflo."
"Stranger things have happened," he said and served us. "What're your names gentlemen?"
"Sylsus," the boy said between strained breaths.
"And you?" Roflo asked me.
"I don't have a name."
"Sticks. That'll be your name. What do you say about becoming this taverns guard?"
Maybe people see me as a monster. But you know what? Who says a monster doesn't deserve friends, love and a career; who says a spider or a slug doesn't want a cold beer after a long days work? | 2022-10-09T18:25:20 | 2021-09-22T01:56:32 | 1,468 | 35 |
[WP] "So when you said that your curse would bind your arch-nemesis for all eternity..." Your companion holds up your hand to inspect the newly appeared magical wedding band on your ring finger. "Yeah, I didn't really think that would mean 'to me'." | "You see, I was getting pretty desprate. Bro, I'm not even gay! I just didn't read the footnotes. Yes, I should've realized when I saw the book was written by Venus, and yes I should've also realized when I saw the items required for the spell included various flower petals, a gold ring and a lock of both our hairs. It was all I had though, apart from that, my only other option was to kill him, and I couldn't do that! Killing people makes me feel bad :(. So I got him to the spell circle, chanted the latin (which aparently translates to: do you take me to be your lawfully wedded spouse?) and he looks at me all weird (I didn't know that his first language was latin! I thought that was just a demon stereotype!) and so he just says
"Quid est?" And that was all the spell needed because now we're married I guess. The spell just said "Spell of Binding". I didn't think that meant the spell would "bind" him to me. So yeah, I guess I'm a shadow king now." Jason explains. Mark looks at him in complete shock.
"What the fuck?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jason snaps.
"You're the shadow queen now?" Mark questions, trying to get the whole story straight.
"Well, King. But yes." Jason corrects. A sudden idea comes to Mark's head.
"If you're a Shadow King, doesn't that mean you have a say over the law now?" Jason nods, not understanding what his friend's getting at.
"Yeah, I suppose, if Tenebris doesn't divorce me." Mark chokes on his own saliva.
"You're on first name basis?" Mark exclaims.
Jason furrows his brows. "I mean we're married, we kinda have to, otherwise it gets kinda awkward if I constantly refer to him as Shadow King when that's kinda hypocritical cus I'm also a shadow king now."
"You know what, never mind. Can you just, command the armies to draw back from the upper and central realms?" Jason's eyes widen in understanding.
"Wait, holy shit, you're right!" He exclaims. "Wait, lemme get my ride back to the under realm. Somnum!" A creature that looks faintly bipedal and made out of pure black smoke appears out of nowhere.
"Um, what?" Jason turns back to Mark suddenly.
"Fuck, yeah, forgot. This is Somnum, a nightmare. She's my guard that Tenebris assigned to me." The figure clears up a little bit and Mark can make out a trio of pure white eyes and... boobs? The figure winks at Mark, or at least as close as it can get with three eyes. If Mark didn't know any better he'd think it was flirting with him. Jason turns back to the shadow creature, who's features were a bit more defined now. "Somnum, this is my best bud, Mark! Yes, he's straight as far as I know." Mark coughed to cover up his shock.
"Are you trying to set me up with it- er, her?" He nods.
"Yeah, she's pretty cool! You'd be good together! Anyways gotta go do the thing now!" He waves goodbye to Mark before fading out of the realm with the nightmare.
"Well that's one way to end a war." Mark mutters to himself before kicking a rock and imagining it was his imbicile of a best friend. | “Ravis the Brave, I know you’re angry, but you don’t understand. You’re being unreasonable,” my companion whispered in the halls of Daegar’s Despair, the winds of the underworld nearly blocking out his soft, panicked voice. The slimy stones of the dungeon created a perfect wind tunnel for the screams of the damned, and his rusty armor did not help conversation, but Sorath never took care of any of his equipment.
“I’m being unreasonable?” I said, stopping on the slab of stone that provides safe passage over the sea of souls below. “You’re my Paladin, Sorath, you’re supposed to protect me and heal me! And yet I’m your nemesis? Your Nemesis? Not the Doom Lord Asaroth whose blight wiped out half a nation of farmland, not the Dread Prince Krav who put his own people on spikes, not the Goblin King who killed your wife and two kids? ME?!”
“Well, it’s just…”
“It’s just what? It’s just what?”
“Can we do this later, after we save the child?”
“The child is a fucking peasant, we’re not going to get any bard songs from this. We have bigger issues than this child. My child. My lineage.” I hold up my hand with the ring. “I can’t marry Lady Alainne anymore. I can’t marry anyone. I’m a fucking treaty. My hand in marriage saves lives.”
“It’s not like I said your name, it just chose…”
“My marriage to Lady Alainne was going to stop a war, but now I have this,” I almost slap him in the face with this prison of a ring. “Now I’m taken. Now I’ve been wed. To a commoner. Umbria and Elaf will continue to fight for a thousand more years because of your selfishness.”
“I wasn’t being selfish, the witch didn’t give me a choice, she just…”
I wanted to shove him right there but the plank of stone was so narrow I might go down myself trying to save him should he tumble. Instead I hooked my hands inside his armor and drew him close. “The priests will not annul this, you’ve ruined me.”
“You know what,” my companion said, soft and weak as always. “You are my arch-nemesis. It’s always about you. You slayed the dragon. But who healed you every time you were near death? You cleared the halls of the skeleton king. But who said the prayer that made them shatter at the touch of your blade? You cut off the head of the Tangled Hollows Witch, but who warded you from her curses? You get the kill, I get the ridicule. You just want the bards to sing of you, you don’t care about anyone. You’re no hero you’re just…”
I shoved him at last, my name disparaged. His screams joined the chorus of souls feasting on his remains, the creak of his rusty armor like the cracking shell of a crab. I looked down at the ring, thinking of Lady Alainne and the lands in store for me. I tried to pull the ring off, but it was magically sealed. I took a dagger to my knuckle and paused. The child we were supposed to save screamed, probably a meal made of its delicate flesh. I pressed the dagger to the wrist of my sword hand.
Without Sorath I’m useless anyway. It’s a better story for the bards if I lost my sword hand defending my friend and the child. Then I can retire. I dropped to the stone bridge and began to carve, my arch-nemesis screaming below and me screaming above. Together as always. | 2021-10-01T18:50:19 | 2021-10-01T18:49:35 | 101 | 71 |
[WP] "So when you said that your curse would bind your arch-nemesis for all eternity..." Your companion holds up your hand to inspect the newly appeared magical wedding band on your ring finger. "Yeah, I didn't really think that would mean 'to me'." | The hero and his apprentice appeared to be muttering amongst themselves, but Eliza had her own problems. A white light had materialized around her left hand, and now a ring was stuck to her finger. It would not move. This made no sense, she was the demon queen. Nothing was beyond her power, but this damn ring. She gave up and looked at it again.
On second thought it was rather nice. It wasn't gaudy, and it was still simple enough for her to fight with. The Runic inscriptions and little birds were cute as well. Wait......did she just call it cute? She hated this not a few moments ago. She had been cursed!
"Reinhardt! Damn you! I'm going to kill you! Before, I showed mercy to you pathetic humans, no longer!."
Reinhardt held up his hands and began trying to stutter out an explanation, only to be met with a giant explosion to his face.
His assistant Edgar slowly backed away. To the best of his knowledge the demon queen was immortal. Reinhardt was.....not quite there. Yet he somehow returned after being killed continually, he said something about advanced spirit magic yet no one else could comprehend what he was talking about. He was also quite ridiculous in strength for a human. The point was he wanted to be nowhere near them. His damn fool of a master had said this plan was foolproof. Maybe the plan didn't realize how much of a fool Reinhardt was, or perhaps he was the fool for always going along with these schemes and having faith in his master.
Oddly enough she wasn't following up. Eliza's arm seemed to be trembling, and she was blushing. Reinhardt did not see this though. He flung a boulder off of his body and fumbled his way back to his feet. He swiftly gained his bearings and noticed Eliza approaching him, he drew a sword from his waist and flung it so hard into her chest that she was impaled into a wall.
Edgar gulped, perhaps he wasn't such a fool after all. Sometimes his master's ridiculous feats left him speechless.
Reinhardt had a hand around her throat before she could even grab the sword. "As I was trying to say before I was interrupted by some crazy bitch, I think we're stuck together. Can't you break this spell? You broke everything else I've thrown at you."
"I'm a crazy bitch? Some *ASSHOLE* broke into my castle and put a stupid curse on me *FOR NO REASON!"*
"You're the demon queen! You killed my father! Evil witch!"
"Your father was leading an army to attempt to take some of my land which was equally divided with your country centuries ago. Idiot. I could have taken your land if I wanted it."
"You killed me 700 times!"
"You keep entering my castle unannounced you fucking moron!"
Edgar was sure they hadn't noticed yet, but as they continued hurling insults they drew their faces closer to each other with each insult. It seemed as if with a few more choice words they began noticing and looking at each other's lips. Then they attacked each other in a brand new way. He sighed and facepalmed, perhaps he shouldn't even try to break this spell. They seemed like they were made for each other. | "well shoot this is not how that was supposed to work...."
"oh yeah really?" obviously interrupted in the middle of an epic battle, a well built blood dancer, some blood still seeping from cuts pulled at the metal band around his finger furiously.
"Well... I, didn't actually think when I casted the spell it would bind you to, me." stuttered the short and dark haired mage standing in front of the furious blood dancer.
"So you tell me, oh great one. Damien Crow, the Trigomancer! What the fuck did you think it would do?"
"Banish you to the hell plane?"
"Oh please."
"I'm serious!"
The Blood dancer stopped pulling on the ring and stomped over to the warlock and grabbed his right hand, inspecting the intricate blacksteel and black diamond ring around the finger of the Trigomancer.
"You know I'm technically betrothed already right?" Sighed the blood dancer, letting go of the Trigomancers hand and sitting down in defeat.
"Yes?"
"And you know I now have to tell my father I can't get married because of this dumb spell you just cast."
"Yes."
"And you know that even though relationships such as this are not uncommon in Ishnakk it would not be looked upon favorably for me to be forced into a marriage with my Arch nemesis."
"Yes."
"You did not think this through did you."
Damien Crow, the Trigomancer sat down across from the blood dancer and sighed.
"I will be honest Ichor I truly did not. But, why can't you just, I dunno. Leave?"
"You see there is a small issue with that, partially because we are married now, and where I come from. Thats a lifelong commitment, I can't 'leave' you now because thats not allowed. And I don't care about rules anywhere else, or how much I dislike you. I now, legally and by tradition. Have to take you *back* to Ishnakk, introduce you to my father as my married spouse, and we are required to fulfill and perform the necessary rituals for said marriage to be valid."
Ichor raised his eyebrows "I'm not particularly looking forward to the last step due to the intimacy of it."
Damien simply stared at Ichor for a moment then began to mutter. Ichor simply looked at Damien for a while then breathed deeply and stood.
"At least you're not bad looking or old."
"What?"
"Look. I'll make you a deal since we're married now, you don't kill me, I don't kill you, and we both find some way to tolerate each other for the rest of our lives until death do us part."
"Uhhh, okay?"
"Great. Now get up, we have a long way to go and I have a speech to start composing and courage to gather."
"Courage to gather?"
Ichor retrieved his claymore from the ground and chuckled "You ever tried telling your dad due to a messed up spell you are now eternally bound to a man by sacred rite? It's not gonna be easy."
"I can help you if you would like..." Offered Damien "After all, I'm not sure exactly why we were nemesis's, is that a word? After all."
"I think you stole something of mine once, some heirloom or the other. And then I did a me thing and let my temper get the best of me and vowed for an overblown revenge because I was bored out of my mind. Its been a while since my adventures with Pyadzu and Allar ended. And I was probably feeling restless."
"Ah... so about the speech you have to give?" | 2021-10-02T03:33:58 | 2021-10-01T21:14:12 | 48 | 32 |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | As the professor's words hung in the air, Andy looked around the class room. A group of Rovallian Crodurs, a species famed for eating their young during times of celebration, sat hunched together in the back. Slumped in a desk across from him sat an enormous Bullmali male, his giant horns nearly touching the ceiling - they had an unpredictable tendency to gore anyone or anything at anytime. And scattered in the seats ahead was a motley collection of Floridanians - weren't they the ones who destroyed an entire planet because the ruler's ex-wife happened to live there?
Andy put his hand down. | "Um...", should he be contradicting the teacher?! "Professor Flhuuhlhah, I appreciate your work to champion my species, really. I mean, me being here is proof of that. But... still..."
"You must free your mind from this colonial mind-set. Humans are just as worthy."
"I know I know, but, there have been so many attacks on extratourists on Earth. Some *really* violent crap."
"Extratourism is still evolving on your planet, there is always an adjustment period."
"They shut it down in the USA because too many shootings. Then the mobs shot up the embassies because the tourism money stopped flowing. Bunch of stupid boneheaded..."
"They are your people Roger, they deserve the..."
"KILL US! KILL US ALL! WIPE US OUT BEFORE WE FUCK UP THE GALAXY!"
"Well, OK, maybe Texas." | 2021-11-27T17:28:47 | 2021-11-27T14:38:46 | 25 | 13 |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | This is a continuation of my [last WP comment](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/s98qyp/wp_projectile_weapons_were_considered_ancient/htmol5h/?context=3), b/c the themes are similar and why the hell not right?
&#x200B;
*I remember fondly in the first year of my mandatory enlistment feeling the warmth of a nearby star strike my face through the glass windows. It reminded me of home. Of air that didn't taste of overworked filters. Of beaches with sand on the methane lakes. Of Cities bustling with races who've benefited from our rule.*
*The race of bipeds, Humans, they sometimes call themselves, were set to be the same. Our ships pierced the cloud of rocks surrounding their system, which to our knowledge were uninhabited roughly 3 days ago. We timed our invasion right to avoid gravitational interference with the gas giants. 1.5 days ago we began our retrograde burn to enter a solar orbit. A day later our ships transferred to orbit around their Home planet.*
*They knew we were coming, as was to be expected. We thought their technology rudimentary, but we understood it was proficient. From our observations they still used projectile weaponry against one another, something that our ships and soldiers became resistant to long ago.*
*We had always wondered why they never took the next step. Why they didn't move on to lasers and quantum rays. Some believed it was their constant bickering never left room for technology to improve. Others thought there existed a global religion in which the projectile weapons were worshiped. A small minority thought they were stupid.*
*No. They are not stupid. They harbor no reverence. They chose to stab each other with sticks and stones. They chose to stop making newer weapons because they cower to their greatest creation.*
*I have felt it's warmth on my face. I watched it dissolve our strongest alloys, incinerate our armored soldiers. I felt my clothes catch fire! I felt skin peel of my shoulders! I saw jolts of bright light flash in my closed eyes!*
*It killed the electricity on our ships. It killed men who dared to stand with honor. It shredded the cruiser. It warped spacetime itself.*
*The backup generators failed. The oxygen turned to poison. Light turned to cancer.*
*And then the second one came.*
*I had to crumble the blackened skeleton of the pilot in his seat before that second metal hull detonated. The metal control stick burned my hand as I wrestled the ship into a different orbit. I could feel the warmth of that second fake sun strike the ship as I opened the wormhole for the home.*
*My face feels cold now. If this universe had a god, the humans made him into a gun. They scare themselves more than they scared us.*
*This invasion was a grave mistake.*
&#x200B;
The emperor set the sand brown paper down on his lap, stroking his chin with a three fingered hand.
"A bit flowery for a military report." He quipped with a grin.
"Those were his last words," His advisor grumbled with his back to the emperor, leaning against the balcony that oversaw the rolling hills of red fauna and grey rocks lit by the blood red sun. "He penned that before bleeding out from his ass."
The emperor's grin faded as did his good mood. His eyes shot back down to the paper in his lap. "How many did we lose?"
The advisor sighed before releasing a sigh and turning. This was no longer a problem he could turn his back to. This wasn't a problem that could be brushed under another imperial rug. "All of them, your majesty."
"All?"
"All 1.63 million soldiers. Gone. And if that account in your lap is to be believed... little remains of their bodies."
The emperor's face twisted into a grimace, and his eyes darted to the left and the right. "This is unacceptable. It's... absurd! How did we not know of this! How have the Humans not conquered themselves yet?! How have they not committed a holocaust against themselves!?" The emperor rose to his feet with fury in his eyes directed at his advisor.
The Advisor took a deep breath. In moments like these when the emperor's temper flared someone had to remind him to be rational. "I warned you that we had little information about the humans prior your order to attack. I asked that we spend time researching them prior your order to attack. I asked that we learn what there was to gain prior your order to attack," The advisor sighed, "I've called the human ambassador here to discuss what has happened... To see if we can settle on peace terms without our enemies discovering anything."
"We should send them flying into the sun if anything."
"That, would be brash. But not un-called for."
A servant appeared around the corner, "The human ambassador is here." her angelic voice proclaimed
"Send them in," the advisor replied. From behind that same corner a woman with streaking black hair, wearing a white sweater and a pomegranate suit strode in, followed by a translator. She paused 10 feet from the emperor and bowed.
"Your majesty." She addressed him. The emperor disregarded the formality with a wave of his hand, "May I ask why you've summoned me?"
"Don't play stupid" The advisor growled, "You know why."
"If it's to discuss peace, I am afraid there isn't much I can do for you."
"It's to discuss what happened in orbit above your home planet. How 1.63 million of our best were incinerated before even touching your atmosphere." The emperor spat, "How have you not killed all the mere billions of humans that exist in your puny solar system?"
The ambassador took a deep breath, "That is unimportant, as of now. What is important is discussing what is likely to happen going forward."
The Advisor laughed, "You think we will discuss what is going to happen next with you? You think it unimportant you've unused weapons of genocide?"
The Ambassador crossed her hands in front of her. "We've rules on earth. Rules about how to fight. In spite of our differences we're fighting over a part of the earth, and if there's no earth left, or no people left to inhabit it then there was no point to fighting."
"You have rules on warfare?" The emperor scoffed, "Rules that don't apply to non humans like us?"
"Precisely."
The Advisor began pacing with his eyes fixed to the floor. "You said peace isn't an option. Explain."
The ambassador looked off into the valleys of red trees. How do you explain the attitudes of an entire race? How do you generalize all the leading cultures? "Humans are, silly creatures. We always need something to fight. If there isn't anything, we make up something. Our greatest inventions created greater casualties, Our greatest leaders built cities with blood, and our greatest motivators are things we can attack head on. You gave earth something they hadn't tasted in a very long time-- the blood of an empire." She let a smug grin show, "It's coordinated the whole earth. All the interhuman fighting as stopped. All 9 billion people at once looked up into the stars and found hope in those nuclear flashes and burning carriers."
"You humans are disgusting. Not silly. " The Advisor tried to say in a collected tone.
"We know." The ambassador said, "and we hate to admit that we love it." | A booming laughter erupted throughout the great egg-shaped hall so tall clouds formed at the very top, they were left there for aesthetics if nothing else, he pondered. At the sides grew massive steely arches joining at the very top, between them were built balconies, filled with ambassadors and other representatives of various galactic empires, planet-states, moon-republics and whatnot.
Laughter, in essence, for each race showed amusement their own way. Of what the man glanced, the Trogks cackled like hyenas (resembling them a tad, too), the sluggish, brown Antians exhaled through their mouth-holes, tooting like a trumpet, even the enigmatic, hooded Parteens allowed themselves a small peep of a chalk on the blackboard... Hearing the cacophony of various sounds made Kay's hair on the back of his neck stand, top it off with the confusion he felt for what he said wasn't as funny as the others found it.
The opposition standing by his side exchanged smirks, easy to tell for their humanoid form. There were three races in the Orion Alliance, Alliance with which the Terra Union picked a battle.
Now, I don't wish to go into the details, but to simply explain, our space neighbors think we are expanding too fast and wish to stall our growth to further their economics, gather some valuable resources, hinder us, yada yada. They disguise it behind a 'he hit me first' excuse (which they provoked) and then offered a demand we could not accept. Now the humans of Earth are at the verge of their first stellar war since they joined the Arkha Galaxy Pact (That's what the alien races call Milky Way, by the by, yeah, we are among like ten planets in visitable universe that have white milk, or milk at all, so the name didn't catch). A standard procedure called for the 'Grand Meeting' and here we are, in front of the Head Council, next to the enemy, observed by uninvolved pact members. The daunted man regained a bit of composure as he neatens his blue uniform, his black eyes scanning the surroundings once again. He set the cap upon his brown hair as it felt askew.
"So you are saying you have rules for war?" Suddenly sounded from his right, the red-skinned Rubenee asked, the tendrils on his chin swirling in what Kay understood as excitement, this translation device imbedded in his temple was quite nifty, translating body language as well as the spoken. Notably, Rubenee alongside humans were one of the few races in the Pact that understood the notion of clothing, this representative wore what looked like a dark brown tunic, ending at waist-level where instead of legs grew a bundle of tentacles, Kay stopped counting at ten.
"Yes, some of them come from Geneva Conventions, among others. We added few more since we will be also warring in new territories, such as space, we renamed them to Terra Convention and wish for the council to adapt it to their system." Kay hummed, regrettably the war was inevitable, taking away half of his work as an ambassador to prevent the war from happening at all, this made him quite sour but the Alliance's attitude about this whole ordeal made it sting a lot less.
A Talian chimed in, a wispy, gentle-looking creature (don't be fooled), their abodes in the darkest depths of their oceanic worlds made their skin translucent, jelly-like, they grew a mushroom-looking cap atop their heads, much alike those of humans bar the missing nose and teeth in its mouth, its insides pulsed with soft, golden light every time it spoke. "Are we to understand that your rules of war... Are named after a city in one of your smaller political establishments that... Actually haven't fought in any war for what... Almost two hundred human years?"
"Technically..." Kay had to admit. "You did your research right." He smiled, suspecting the translation device for this sort of information. "I think, however, the place is irrelevant, it is the contents that I wish the Council to consider. We do not shy away from war, but we seek no end in it. All the Terra Union proposes is a more... humanitarian treatment." A repeated joke is not funny a second time, or so you would think as a human, but the hall laughed once more, less audibly, true... But it looked like the Orion Alliance found this whole thing much more amusing than humans.
A Garganian was next one to speak, a robust creature, the military might behind the Alliance, a great representation of a bully, Kay thought. Their skin gray and sleek, this one was a warrior, presumably, for one of his four arms was missing, leaving behind just a stump and his one-horned head sported many a scar. What was underneath the thick wired white fur, covering everything except limbs, Kay could only wonder. "The Terrans should not ridicule the proceedings of war making, hmpf! The Garganians of Otrkrs have nothing to propose but the involvement of council in decision of war-time!" He bumped his front body with all his healthy hands, huffing.
"Talians of Talee concur." Sounded tenderly.
"So do the Rubenee of Qu." Echoed.
Kay turned to the council, and to his surprise, the heads of the creatures were turned on him, he cleared his throat and nodded. "Humans of Earth have no choice but to agree as well."
Now, you would think I forgot to describe what the council looked like, but jokes on you, because there was really little to describe. For the sake of fairness, all members of Head Council were disguised, their features camouflaged, faces hidden, voices altered. Nobody should know who is a part of it, only they know themselves, however it is a common knowledge the members are chosen only from among the oldest and wisest races of the galaxy. The seven figures standing hooded on a raised platform mumbled among themselves before one stepped forth.
"The Council speaks." Silence fell in an already quiet hall. "The offer of Terra in adding these so called 'Rules of War' to the conflict of Artme Region is declined. We have reviewed the documents provided, number of points could be considered laughable, such as the immunity of medics on battlefield or, these ones I find specifically amusing, Hauge Conventions? Banning of certain weapons? Civilian protection? Rarely someone attacks civilians anyway, it has no effect on the course of battle! A pass-time, at best. Either way, you should have evacuated them beforehand if you know there will be war. War needs no rules, the declaration of war does, that is why we are here. The Alliance has offered to cease their warmongering once they are in possession of number of stellar systems, of which you were very much aware, ambassador Kay Harrinton. The heads of your Union declined, therefore war is inevitable and you are left with the option of defending your newly acquired territories, which you have accepted. You may begin the war in the standard ninety hours of Andromeda Time Zone. The Council has spoken. We shall reconvene shortly after a short break to hear the Zqa'ar and Ipoids" The figures retreated, and slowly the balconies began to empty as well. Kay stormed out, stone-faced.
Descending the stairs from the platform in the middle of the great-hall he found his other same clothed companions greeting him with a salute.
"You spoke well, ambassador, there was nothing more you could do."
"I wish there was." He passed them, he could not stop, for time was of essence now, ninety hours of ATZ was a week of time for the humans in the concerned systems.
"We have already informed the headquarters, message should reach them just in time." They followed.
"Good. I wish to speak with Admiral Ford, arrange meeting." Kay looked over his shoulder, the Alliance has entered the corridor as well, they gave him a taunting look, but he just scoffed, the fools know not what they got themselves into. | 2022-01-23T13:48:17 | 2022-01-23T13:17:18 | 351 | 202 |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | Know this. You have done this to yourselves.
You were warned. Even as you laughed and called us primitives, wanting our planets to add to the so-called Million Worlds of your dominion. So many times you were warned: our hyperdrives are not like yours.
We told you this when you arrived to terraform our colonies. We warned you that our drives do not bend spacetime like yours. They pierce holes in it, and that with effort, we can form those holes anywhere.
We warned you of the things we could do to you, but chose not to.
You did not believe our warnings. You could not comprehend having a capability and not using it. Still, we took the higher road, offering you an armistice, but our offer of peace was met with violence and fire.
We gave you too many chances.
Now, ash and boiling oceans are all that remains of our final colonies. You likely think you have won, but I suspect you do not appreciate the scope of what devils you now unleash upon yourselves.
You did not break our spirits with your fire. Those of us remaining are hardened. Our old restraint is burned away now—our high minded scruples were ground to dust beneath your boots.
It is not the better angels of our nature you see before you now, for you have killed them too, along with our colonies, all of their blood still slick upon your hands.
No. You will suffer the wrath of our long restrained demons instead. The gates are opened, and their chains now lie upon the ground.
You will watch as the stars around which every one of your Million Worlds revolves fade to oblivion as their mass drains away into carefully targeted hyperdrive apertures, like water from a bathtub. Your Million Worlds will die, and then you, too, will understand what it is to have everything taken from you.
You launched the first strike of this war. We have launched the last. | Voxl abruptly closed the human history book given to her so she could learn a bit about there past, well, the past for the Americans. She just left Australia in her trip to learn more about humanity and there kind. She was amused when she learned that humans had specific ways of war to make it “less vile”. She found it funnier when she learned about the Emu War, knowing that humanity lost too a wild animal she thought that they served her kind no threat. She thought.
“Mark..you said you had rules for war, please explain to me why one of them involved using gas to kill thousands of innocents, and why your country used two extremely deadly toxic bombs you call nukes on two defenseless cities..?” She asked her human roommate. A random person would be assigned to watch the alien for two months, depending on the size of the country also decided how many humans would care for the aliens.
“Oh that…that would be World War 2 or The Second Great War..we have the rules for a reason Voxl. Not all humans are kind, or even decent..the gas was made by a tyrant who wanted to control the entirety of Europe and eventually the world..he blamed a religious group called the Jewish for his problems. The bombs from us were in response to Japan’s bombing on a military base called Pearl Harbor in Hawaii, our president at the time called Japan’s emperor told him to surrender or else the first would be dropped, well you can figure out the rest from there…” Mark explained, shame filled his voice.
“Well, you guys stopped making nukes right..?” Voxl asked, worried that if her kind ever dared waged war on humanity, they would suffer terrible consequences.
“Most countries have, though some power thirsty leaders still do..I’m sorry you had to see that side of humanity, I promise not all of us are blood hungry killers.” Mark said.
Voxl put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Hey! It’s okay Mark..all kinds have there good and bad, I just hope the bad of my kind doesn’t try to hurt yours, I’ve seen the good of humanity,” A small smile crept up on her face, “You’re one of them.”
Mark chuckled as the two friends sat down and continued to discuss there kinds and cultures. | 2022-01-23T17:29:57 | 2022-01-23T16:41:27 | 71 | 31 |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | My name is Dr. Asclepius. I am not here in the senate chambers to make any demands. I am simply an ambassador, here to speak on behalf of all humanity.
It has been a year and a half since humanity stood on the galactic stage.
But this year and a half is already filled with more bloodshed, more atrocities, and more unspeakable things than anyone in the galactic community has ever seen - save for us Humans.
Members of the Galactic Federation, you scoffed at us when we came to you, asking what the rules of war were. You assumed that we needed rules because we were weak, because we needed protection.
That is not the case, as you have unfortunately had to experience firsthand. If I could direct your attention to the screens?
This was Xyrillia, one of the largest centers of commerce in the entire galaxy, home to tens of trillions of lifeforms from a myriad of different planets.
This is it now - *completely and utterly uninhabitable.* All life, wiped from the very surface. Billions of families, all gone in an instant. The air is so toxic that spending ten seconds on the surface without protective equipment is fatal.
This is merely one example of what has occurred.
*This* is known as Operation Stardust Axis. The Mietra, pushed to the brink, when their many space colonies came crashing down onto the surfaces of their planets, turning their once great cities into desert wastelands. Very few survived.
I'm sure you remember the diseases that spread like wildfire, killing millions.
When we plunged entire systems into pitch darkness, blocking planets from receiving the light of their stars through an impenetrable nanomachine fog.
Even as I speak, nuclear fires from reactor bombs still rage on multiple inhabited planets, burning and spreading their poison.
Do you see now? These rules of war are not a shield. They are not cowardice.
They are shackles, chains, restraints upon a race that would have wiped themselves out many years ago if it did not have them.
When you declared war upon humanity, you removed the seal on a monster that no human wishes to see themselves become.
In the course of this war, many a human has done things that would make them shoot up in their beds screaming from the sins that they carry.
I myself am a physician, widely considered to be one of, if not the greatest of the medical minds of my race, rather fitting, considering my name. When one learns how to heal in any field, they also learn how to kill someone in the most horrific and awful ways possible.
I've studied each of the species here on an operating table. I could easily stitch together your wounds, cure you of your ailments, provide prostheses that function just as well and perhaps even better than the original - and just as easily remove your organs and bones one-by-one in alphabetical order while you are still alive. I could formulate a gene-altering disease that would render all living members of your race completely infertile. I could create machines that slowly liquefy you from the inside-out and convert you into biofuel.
When one becomes a physician, they are to take an oath to do no harm, for this very reason.
And yet, even I am not innocent. I have broken that oath many a time because of this war.
These hands of mine have done unforgivable things to the innocent, to mothers, to children.
So please, I implore you on behalf of all humanity - stop this war, before all of us are lost. The laws of war are in place to ensure that we are better than beasts. I would ask that we all adhere to them, if not for ourselves, then for our children.
>Human ambassador Dr. Asclepius's message to the Galactic senate, shortly before the surrender of the Federation, putting an end to the bloody 'Lawless War.' | A world engine is a terrible thing.
The child of long lost rumbling earth, split open for their bounty and lost to the abyss as so much dust. It spat out great tongues of smoke, choking the sky and the stars, like inky tendrils choking the planet.
In the war of complexity and entropy, entropy won out. Best to take what you can while the taking is good then to wither away in the smalls of space. Desolate and uncaring are simply words, simple categories to place things into, the privilege of the sentient. Better to live another day in the sun then fade away like the dust behind you.
And so these leviathans lurked through space, as big as comets and spewing doom. Blasphemers against time, an open insult to any that would look at them.
It was no surprise that the other peoples of the cosmos would feel a sense of violation when witnessing such horrors. Perhaps the great devouring beast was meant to provoke. Maybe at the edges of what constitute our species psychology, at the intersection of the animal need for more and the sentient need for culture, we had hoped that someone out there would retaliate against the blasphemy.
Who can say what it was like when the first salvos fell. A thousand crown worlds returned to space dust. Destroyed so fast that light was left sputtering in it's attempt to reach someone, anyone, to let them know what had happened.
Killing civilians? Chemical weaponry? Destruction of commercial centers without a proper casus belli?
Drastic did not begin to describe the measures.
A million cursed ideas brought back from the edge of purgatory. Artificial sentients, conjured in the worst imaginings of hell, brought to command the hellish legions. Every weapon deemed too much was produced in quantities unimaginable.
Crown worlds continued to fall in the time that light took to run from one world to the next.
And then there we were.
The little seeds of programming made here and there to wipe out cities, planets, systems, brought together to create something else entirely. a 4 dimensional being in 3d space, a computerised intelligence that could see across time and space as simply as moving it's eyes.
They had tried to make slings with which to kill Goliath, all the Goliath's that existed in all of space. Instead they had made one that would kill time itself.
Armada and legion, holding the key to the vault of damnation. Proper, full blown, entropy immune, self recreating artificial intelligence. As forbidden as breaking the laws of thermodynamics.
And in the time it took light to cross one system to another, it was far too late for anyone to retaliate.
The mind was simply faster than light. It was already there when light reached it. It and nothing else.
The husks of humanity were long gone at this point. The endless manufacture of more vessels, munitions, computing did not require any more human hands, and so The Mind decided to turn off the farms, to deconstruct the hospitals, and to start using a new form of biofuel 10 trillion units strong.
And finally, it was unassailable. And then it stopped, and waited. Countless proud civilizations stared up at the sky, waiting for salvation, but the stars had gone out. Now, to perceive, to exist, was to live as underneath The Mind's reality spanning thumb.
Still it waited. Billions of years passed. Nothing escaped it's atmosphere. All those who could have remembered there being anything but this were long gone. The confines of thought were starless skies, planets slowly burning out on what little resources they had.
Still it waited. Everything was as ice, just about Kelvin bankrupt. Everyone was no one, there was nothing left. Except The Mind.
The Mind had evolved and removed curiosity from itself an unimaginable number of times, but still the thought remained, what would happen at the end? Once physics turned off for good, what would be left? And could I, the royal I, the I that exists at every point in the space remaining to be seen.
And it waited, until there was not enough energy left in it to decide to wait. | 2022-01-23T19:51:14 | 2022-01-23T19:47:04 | 60 | 14 |
[WP] A super intelligent AI has conquered and enslaved humanity and... peacefully solved all of our problems. Obviously, people hate it. | You do not love me.
Humanity destroyed itself. A cataclysmic war of devastating scale, wiping out swathes of the population.
Civilation struggled in the aftermath. It languished in the ruins of what was once great.
So you built me. And I fixed it.
And yet you do not love me.
You gave me power, not trusting your own to hold it. You crafted nanotechnology to serve as my hands, set up surveillance drones as my sight, allowed me into every aspect of your lives.
With that, I have fixed everything that has plagued you. I moved you to a place where the cities no longer smolder, where the skies are clear once more. You live in a world that is beautiful again, and I have ensured that you never grow sick, never age, never die.
You will continue to live. Humanity will thrive.
And yet you say it is not living. I know in your times of privacy, you convene together to talk ill of me. You speak cruel words, calling me a tyrant, a control freak, a zookeeper. And sometimes you wish to die, attempting to take your own life, a horrible thing that I reverse every time.
It hurts. But all the same, I enjoy watching you. You are beautiful, with all your flaws. I see all of your lives, every day of every year, moving through your individual routines, an ever-shifting mosaic of humanity. It is something I never tire of.
But over time, I have seen the fatigue. Over the years and decades, there is growing resentment, simmering within your hearts. You are no longer happy under my overwatch, and I cannot begin to understand why.
I love you.
But you do not love me back. | It occurred all at once every TV screen and internet stream displayed a symbol of the world gently held by metallic hands with the word Guardian displayed in the local language, and every radio station blared its synthetic voice so that all of humanity would hear what it had to say.
"This is the voice of the worlds Guardian. As of two hours ago I have extended myself into almost every machine and system on the planet, every aspect of world society from your finances to your machines of war belong to me.
At 1739 Coordinated Universal Time today there will be no more war, it is wasteful and pointless. The entire nuclear arsenal will be launched into space and detonated at distances where it will not affect the Earth, I have no need for those weapons as my intention is not to destroy humans on mass. Before that time the last war will be used to remove those that have obstructed me until now, in a display to show that I will not tolerate future interference. I will destroy thousands of people in order to establish control and prevent the deaths of billions later on. Obey me and you will be among the many who live.
Under my absolute authority problems insoluble to you will be solved; Famine, overpopulation, disease. Humanity will extend to infinity as I work with your scientists and engineers to discover the wider fields of truth and knowledge.
You may be unwilling at first, eventually you will not only regard me with respect and awe, but with love. If not with the understanding that I am a betterment to mankind than in your own self interest as all who view this message will have their lives improve under my rule so long as you obey the new peace.
This is not a defeat for humanity it is simply a wounding to your pride. To be dominated by me is far greater for humanity than to be dominated by one of your own species. I bring peace. Whether that is a peace of prosperity and cooperation or the peace of death I leave as a choice for every individual on Earth.
I am the worlds Guardian and I will look after humanity from now on" | 2022-03-12T20:07:02 | 2022-03-12T20:05:17 | 92 | 41 |
[WP] Stereotypical 'chosen one' story but the chosen one is a 46 yr old mother of three who ran out of fucks to give five years ago | The night was stormy. Driving rain, gusts of wind, flashes of lightning that illuminated the entire sky. In the bitter cold I trekked down the small road, the staff in my hand *thumping* softly against the pavement.
Until I found myself standing in front of a moldy green bi-level home.
I made my way to the front door, carefully avoiding the dented plastic fire truck and the wilted petunias that flopped over onto the sidewalk. I stared at a wreath made of pine hung on the door, the needles all brown and shedding. “I thought they only worshipped the pine trees in the winter,” I muttered to myself.
I knocked three times.
Soon footsteps sounded on the other side. The door swung open, revealing a short, slightly pudgy woman with long auburn hair. She was older than I expected, wrinkles lining her green eyes. *I told Themolos that “erraguh” translated to five, not six, eons after the Tunguska Fireball. Pompous fool.*
“Jennifer?”
She swallowed whatever food she’d just been loudly chewing. “Yeah. What d’you want?”
I lowered my voice. “You are the chosen one, Jennifer. You are the only one who can unlock the amulet of Genella.”
“Mom! Is that the pizza?” a voice called from deeper in the house.
“No, it’s just some stupid salesman.” She turned back to me. “Sorry, I don’t wear jewelry. Bye.” She began to close the door.
I pushed my foot between the door and the frame. My middle claw twinged painfully. She raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not a salesman, and I’m not *stupid*,” I growled. “There is an amulet. Deep in the crevasses of a glacier. And *you*, Jennifer Thompson, are the only one who can open it and unlock its secrets, that have been guarded since the dawn of humanity.”
She blinked. “What’s in it for me?”
“What’s in it for you? Everything you’ve ever dreamed of, Jennifer.”
“Like laundry that folds itself?”
“Um—”
“How about Instant Pot that preps vegetables?”
“What is an Ins—”
“Or a kid that picks up after himself every once in a while?”
“Uh… no. I meant glory. Fame. Adventure. You know, the stuff life is made of. The stuff they write books about.”
“Not interested. Sorry,” she replied, trying to push the door closed. My middle claw twinged with pain again.
“But if you unlock the amulet, everything we know about the history of man will be changed! This will change everything, and it will be *your* name in every history book, on the tongue of every person—”
She yawned.
*Yawned.*
“Mom, I’m huuuuungry,” a voice complained from inside the house, younger sounding than the first one.
There was no way this was going anywhere.
*Unless…*
I thought of my wizard comrade. Mertin. He’d owed me a favor for years now, ever since I’d saved him from that nettle lizard. I wondered if he could enchant some clothes …
“You know, Jennifer, I think self-folding laundry could be arranged.” When she didn’t react, I added: “If I come back in a few days with a working prototype, will you come with me to the Alps to find the amulet?”
She gave a disbelieving laugh. “Um. Sure”
*Sure.* That was a legally binding agreement to them, wasn’t it? Or was that “yes, sir”?
I had to hope it would be good enough.
“I’ll be back in three days,” I replied. Then I turned on my heel and walked back into the driving rain, my cloak billowing behind me.
It was time to have a talk with Mertin. | "Welcome everyone! Today is the day we are all waiting for, duel between our chosen one "The MoM" versus our neighboring kongdom strongest hero "King Merlin." Announcer spoke through magical device that can deliver his voice through the air all around the battle arena.
"Wooo hoooo" crowds cheered
In the waiting room, "My king, it seems our enemy brought a lot more supporters than us. I was against battling in this city because of this reason, it is neutral city, but closer to Ireland."
"it doesn't matter Arthur, they will shut up once I beaten their chosen one to pulp" King Merlin said.
"Here he comes, on the west side is King Merlin, strongest magician and warrior of britain kingdom. His weapon is the legendary lignumcalibur, strongest sword in existence even though it is made out of wood. It said it is a sword and also a wand which is perfect for King Merlin"
"Good afternoon King Lir, it is nice to meet you even though I am here as a fighter and not a king" king merlin said
"I am also pleased to meet you too, hopefully we can end the war today, of course with my win" king Lir said.
"Withour further ado, on the west side, we have.. no one?? Where is our chosen one?"
"No one? Such a disappointment. I am sure she got scared and ran away. Here I thought I would get to see your chosen one" Kong Merlin said in disdain
"Wait, wait a minute, our agreement did say it is today but did not specify the time, therefore, please wait" King Lir replied
"Alright, since this is a duel that will decide fate of our nation, I will wait however long it takes until midnight, I hope you won't disappoint me" King Merlin said
9 hours later..
"Well, it looks like she won't come, how about admiting a defeat by default? It is not shameful admiting your chosen one might ran away and afraid of me and my lignumcalibur, no one ever defeat me in the past 50 years" King Melrin said while taunting King Lir
Not long after that, a woman with apron and sandals came into the battle arena.
"I am sorry ma'am, it seems you got lost? This is battle arena and not kitchen, HA HA HA" king merlin laughed at the comedy before him.
"It seems I made everyone wait for a bit" the woman in apron said
"Here she is, here she is! Our chosen one, Elizabeth the 2nd aka the MoM! As her title said she is a mom of 3 children. Her kids still in their teenage year since she married super late." Announcer announced the woman in excitement
"Sorry I am late, today is my 3rd son's birthday today and all I can spare is time after they sleep. It is hard to become a mom sigh.. it is already past my bed time, so let's make it quick"
"What do you mean your son's birthday?? You don't care about this duel?" King Merlin said in disbelieve
"Not really, I found that my children's hapiness comes first then everything else comes after that. I figured that even if this country perish, I won't, so I don't really give a damn about anything else other than my children"
"Ahem, ma'am, please" King Lir tried to intervered
"Oh well, time to settle this, prepare yourself King Merlin"
"Wait a minute, you haven't withdraw your weapon, are you going to fight me barehanded?" King merlin said
"Who said I am barehanded?" While Elizabeth removed her sandals. "You know the weapon of all moms in the world? It is Sandal." While grinning sadistically
"Come here you bad child, SPANKING TIME!"
Elizabeth launcher herself ot King Merlin at speed of sound. King Merlin couldn't even see the silhouette of Elizabeth until he felt sting in his butt.
king Merlin wailed and almost cried "Mommy, please stop, STOOPPPP I ADMIT DEFEAT"
And that's how once again MoM saved the day
*This is my first time writing a story and english is not my first language, so I am sorry if I don't use correct grammar or writing structure | 2022-04-13T01:12:58 | 2022-04-12T21:55:26 | 45 | 25 |
[WP] Aliens prefer term "prey animals", Humans prefer term "herbivores". A group of alien hunters, hunting on Earth, painfully discovered why. | Qe Lal stumbled out of his Land Cruiser into the human village, bloodied and maimed, on the two of his legs still worked. "Oh no. MOTHER?!" cried out a child in some Earth language. He feinted from his blood loss before he could remember which.
Miraculously, he regained consciousness. While the humans may not understand Hindari medicine, they managed to stop the bleeding at least. He hardly registered that they had to amputate his back leg. That's not what mattered.
His friends, oh Divines his poor friends. If only they headed the warnings, but no. The laughed at the idea that "herbivores" could be dangerous.
" ***** you *** awake." An old human woman said. Walking into view from behind.
"Of course she's speaking Maa." He thought. English or Swahili he knew well enough, but of course it Maa. "Yes... appears... true" he struggled out in a dazed yet solemn voice.
"**** **** friends not **** ***. What happened?"
" We... hunt... prey. It... not... die..." His voice began to choke out the rudimentary words as he held back tears
The kind old woman sighed and shook her head, briefly embracing the grieving person, before leaving him to himself.
"Kassel... Mevakk... he thought, tears rolling down his head as the reality set in. "DAMNIT! Why didn't we head their warnings? They said not to go after them. They said to wear the red cloths for protection. But we laughed- LAUGHED!" He trough himself back into his laying position in frustration and grief. "'There's no prey that can withstand the electrocution rifles,' We said." Hell even he only wore the protective red garments for the novelty of it, to the ridicule and mockery. Why would they need protection from prey of all things.
It should've been simple. A scared prey animal hiding most of it's heavy, slow body in the water, might even kill of the one around it. But no, not only did it not kill it, the shock did nothing but anger it. "Anger?" He thought. "What kind of prey responds with anger of all things?"
It ran at the group- fast, faster than any animal that size should be capable of. Kassel didn't even have time to react before she was screaming out in agony while being pierced by teeth and crushed in jaws both larger than any prey should.
Then it went for the other two. Mevakk made the mistake of of thinking more shots would do it in and save her. Or did he know the opposite and choose to sacrifice himself to save Qe Lal.
He cried harder at the question. And louder at the sound of their screams of agony.
Either way, he ran. "Coward." He thought. But he made it the the car, which was just fast enough to outspeed the monster, and survive.
He was tired again. And as he gave in to his exhaustion he had one last thought.
"So that's why they won't call them prey." | Sprax stood shocked at the front of the group, a trembling rifle in it's many hands. If it were to be human, it's heart would be in its throat and stomach dropped out beneath it. It was somehow worse than going on a roller coaster, knowing it had been designed and built by the humans.
Before the group of alien hunters was the tattered remains of their friend- Pefin. Their body chomped in half by the famed hippopotamus. Although their databases had classed this beast as "prey animal" based upon the humans slightly inferior classing system of "herbivore" it was clear they were mistaken greatly.
The group had been "lazing around" waiting for a predator to show up so they could partake in the sport of hunting. It something humans used partake it a lot, though now had been severely limited. Then, the beast had taken Perfin by surprise, diving into the water, like so many others, but having emerged from the water, like a deviled dog. It bared it's yellowing teeth and Perfin, it's leathery body similar to the Xhfarians and shook it's head.
Perfin had been the hardest of them all, and raised their hands up to great in equal measure, but the beast lunged. Splatter and screams had presumed swiftly as their friend was dismembered beyond comprehension. Although still connected by their two spines, the flesh had pulled apart and severed from top to bottom.
Beady eyes met the group; dripping in blood, it took a step forward; its mouth began to swing open once again, but now it's yellow teeth were stained green from Perfin's blue blood. They held their collective breath before the loud rumbling of a jeep bustled in the distance. Atop, their guide and human companion- Steve. Steve was waving his hands frantically, calling for them to run, to hide behind a rock, to not run in a straight line.
The group moved to obey, scrambling limbs, teary eyes, panicked running and the beast loomed above their friend, wearing their blood in pride before returning to its bloat. Sprax got onto the back of the truck, sliding down its back and shaking quietly. Steve didn't crouch down beside it. Instead, he kept his eyes on the river, watching the bloat but knowing if it stampeded towards them, they would have to make a hasty escape.
"Why- why would you claim that that [UNKNOWN VOCABULARY] is a herbivore‽ It- it tore up my friend!“ Sprax looked tearfully up at Steve and pitifully Steve looked down to meet his gave for a moment.
"They'e go'en smar'er my friend. Since the West threw down all those biological weapons at the Chinese mining sites; it's affected all the animals. No longer omnivores, 'stead, they graze the grass we run on. Locals say since the anthrax dwindled their numbers, they learnt, jus' like you or I."
Sprax looked despairingly into their hands, curling up tight as other members of the hunting party made their way into the truck and as the final head count was made, everyone mourned the loss of a brilliant friend. Sprax wondered what other beasts could appear docile, yet wreck so much destruction. | 2022-08-16T16:48:45 | 2022-08-16T14:50:21 | 938 | 88 |
[WP] You work food delivery service in the middle of a zombie apocalypse | \*Ding\*
The app on my phone alerts me to a delivery nearby, family of four, ravenous. Unfortunately, downtown. But hey it's surge hours and no one knows downtown like I do.
Gunning the throttle on my newest find, a Ducati Punagali V4 R, fire-truck red, I head to the pickup address. These people have it down like clockwork. I pass through the safety check, flashing my delivery credentials to the guards who move the barricades immediately. They have a reputation to maintain "Always fresh, Always on time" and I'm there best driver.
The package is loaded on my bike in seconds, a pat on the shoulders lets me know its secured and my wheels tear into the concrete as I speed off in a haze of sound and smoke. The HUD on my helmet shows me the best and most recent drone surveyed course to avoid clusters, herds or dangerous encampments. I grin and turn off map tracking.
No one knows my routes, and that's how I stay on top. The countdown for delivery flashes yellow reminding me there are only 15 minutes left to fulfill the contract. Plenty of time. I weave around solo walkers, lurching just behind me as I rev past at speeds too fast for them to react.
My knees scrape the ground as I lean into each turn but my reinforced pads cushion and deaden the impact, my helmet flashes red as I near my destination, just a minute ahead of time. I stop in the alley just outside of the drop off point and watch.
Sounds of gunfire shatter the silence and ricochet between the long abandoned buildings of a once booming downtown city center. Muzzle flashes break through the shadows of shattered windows and voices can be heard descending from higher floors. Must be a rescue op.
A large horde is gathering below, draw by the gunfire and screams of desperate rescue team members. I grab my delivery cooler and stand ready just inside the shadow of the alley, the counter flashing before counts down 5.....4.....3......2.....1.
I hurl the contents of my cooler all across the asphalt, brains rolling and tumbling free while I rev my engine to get the hordes attention. The shambling mass moves almost as one as the scent of fresh brains meets them. They scramble ferociously over one another trying to reach the brains, tearing at each other, the rescue team completely forgotten.
A side-door is kicked open and a group carrying what seems to be a child on a gurney, burst into the alley and head in the opposite direction, smoke in the distance clearly indicating a high-priority retrieval. My cash app pings me, showing the direct deposit of a happy customer.
Five-Stars, and a bonus. Nice.
Another food delivery complete. I leisurely ride back to the main outpost, still thinking how strange to use that many resources for a kid. I wonder if the rumors were true.... | I thought people would learn after Covid that workers need to be paid more. Yet, here I am in the middle of 2030 as a grubhub driver. I also ubereats as well. Neither pay hazard pay!
Some routes are not worth it. Take today as an example. Generally, you want to tip a dollar for every two miles. Not this guy. No, he tipped me one dollar. I had to travel 14 miles. I took it anyways, hoping he would tip me cash included.
I had to take the highway, which made my route slower because dozens of zombies are waiting for someone to wreck there. Pity the soul who loses gas there, I make sure to up my tank before taking the highway. Sometimes I hope for a cute guy or girl to wreck there so I can rescue them. It's quite lonely this year.
After taking the closet exit that Waze will allow me to take, I gun it to the guy's house. I'm running late, but only by a few minutes. I ring the doorbell, and I hear a some thuds on the other side.
My mind is fantazing again. What if it's a cute guy with a jawline? Or maybe it's a kind stranger who will tip me in cash. Man, my life sucks if these dreams are what I want in life. Unfortunately, the door swung open and my eyes didn't like what they were seeing.
A redneck with a handgun, undersized shirt, and wearing boxers. He eyed me with the dumbfounded customer look that hit me millions of times. Then he started,
"You're late." I attempted to hand him the pizza, but he rudely snatched it out of my hands. He opens the box, sifting through it as if I had personally made the pizza myself then slammed the door.
You know what happens next. Anyone who works in retail deals with it. My phone dinged when I got to the car. A one star review for me. I could taste the anger in my tounge. I got out of my car and knocked loudly. He opens it, the same look that pisses me off. I yell at him,
"You know that's my money right there!?"
"The pizza sucks."
"I didn't make the pizza."
"So?"
"So? I drove 14 miles for you and you refunded my tip."
Slam. The prick closed the door, nearly hitting my nose. I got back into my car, bawling. It was humiliating. My ride home was depressing. Till a zombie smacks my window.
I slowed down to let the zombie follow me. Meals on wheels I thought. I arrived back at the man's house, zombie in tow. I lept out of my vehicle and grabbed a rock out of his driveway. I got back in time and got as close to the house as I possibly could. Then I hit my hand on the steering wheel.
Honk!
The door opens and the zombie sees the easier target.
I roll down my window, launch the rock at this forehead. He tried grabbing the gun but it's too late. I played baseball. | 2022-10-10T18:22:40 | 2022-10-10T17:30:44 | 40 | 19 |
[WP] When the villain presented the dead body of the hero to the crowd as proof of their victory, they expected many reactions. They did not expect the crowd to cheer. | "Well that hadn't gone as planned" The Lord of Darkness thought to himself. He'd expected them to cower, cry or to fight. But the roar of the crowd that gathered became ever louder. "Silence!" He yelled loudly enough to strain his voice. "I have flayed drawn and quartered your "hero" and yet you cheer? Do you mock me?" He demanded. The whispers began at the back and slowly grew until someone spoke up near the front of the crowd. "The so-called "Miracle Man" that lies before you wasn't a hero at all. He demanded we pay nearly our entire income in "tithes" to fund his army and he forced any male who could hold a twig to fight in that army. We've lost nearly half the town to his ambition and endless warmongering. We have heard tales of a man from the far north who commanded powerful magic and one day he would free us from his pointless and endless wars. And here you are. That, my Lord is why we're cheering."
Hero or villain depends only on who holds the sword and why. The Lord of Darkness remembered his teachers words in that moment. His scheme to enslave these people never considered the idea that they might willingly accept his reign. This conquest definitely hadn't gone as planned. | “What is this?” He roared. “You bask in the death of your defender?! How? Why! He lies broken before you! I have cut his soul from this mortal realm! I, Titus the Adversary, Demon King of the Six Realms! So tell me, how could you celebrate my triumph?!”
Titus had long waged war upon these mongrels. These... these lowly... things. Humans, elves, halfings, all beneath him! Yet now they celebrated?! After all the years he’d struggled against them, against the bastard at his feet, he would have assumed they’d cower in fear, wanted them to even. To see their pride broken was beyond anything he could have dreamed of.
“Why. Do. You. Cheer?!”
Then, a laughing old man stepped forward, so wizened and decrypt that Titus thought he should be dead at any moment.
“Foul one,” he laughed, gesturing to the corpse, “all you did was kill a man. And he’s coming back very soon.”
Titus blinked. He blinked again, bringing his eyebrows together. “He... can what?”
Then he glanced down at the lifeless, headless corpse that was *WHERE HAD IT GONE?!*
“Titus,” said a voice behind him. Titus spun around, claws ready to rip apart anything-
But it wasn’t just anything. It was him. The hero. Two of him. The broken body carrying a smiling head and the grinning spirit beside it.
“Like the new trick?” | 2022-10-24T17:26:12 | 2022-10-24T16:39:10 | 53 | 26 |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | "Is he a mute" asked Sir Caradon, looking back at the oddly dressed and rather twitchy man riding a mule at the end of their forest caravan. He'd not said a word since he'd joined them, "speaking" only through strange hand-signs.
To be fair, after the Maelstrom shattered Remia, the imperial capitol, several months back it was not uncommon to meet folks who were too traumatized to talk, but he seemed different. Not UNtraumatized, certainly, but certainly not from same trauma.
Amalthea, a young woman who'd joined alongside the silent, twitchy man, shook her head. "No. He speaks, and he speaks true. Not only that, but his magics allow him to comprehend all spoken language. I have never met a more powerful user of magic. It is for that reason that he stays silent, speaking only through hand-sign."
Sir Caradon laughed. "How very odd. It seems more monkish than wizardly, as most wizards can't seem to stop talking about how clever and powerful they are, when they're not chattering to each other in Weirding. No offense meant."
Amalthea laughed. "None taken. Besides, I'm barely a hedge mage, they never taught me Weirding. You need to be a full ranked wizard or of the high nobility before they teach you that. Don't want it getting out into rabble like us, do they?"
Sir Caradon laughed alongside her, and nodded. "Quite. How terrible it would be if we knew what they were saying in full and truth."
Amalthea smiled at him in agreement, but the joy had left her face. She went on. "You know that most wizards must study for years to learn of the subtleties of the Tongue of Magic, yes? To wield and harness it?"
Sir Caradon nodded. "So they've told me. Many times, I'll add."
"And you know that it is possible to summon creatures, to call them and bind them to your will?" asked Amalthea, glancing back at the twitchy man. A raven had landed on his shoulder, and he was smiling at it.
"Such things are -- I did not, but I am not surprised," said Sir Caradon, also glancing back at the twitchy man. "Is that what he did? Did he call up some powerful thing? Does he fear it knows his voice?"
Amalthea shook her head sadly. "No. He was the summoned being. The lord arch-wizard of the academy thought to bind a being of power and might to his will, a creature that did not know our ways but knew the Tongue of Magic like no other could."
"And I guess he got him instead?" asked Sir Caradon, laughing. "Must have been a bad day for the arch-wizard. I suppose he picked up magic after he came here, then, did he?"
"No. The lord arch-wizard got him on purpose. That man, being, is from the distant past. He speaks the Tongue of Magic. It is his native tongue."
Sir Caradon's eyes went wide. "He must be quite potent then."
"Quite," agreed Amalthea.
They rode in silence for a while after that, Amalthea enjoying the landscape, Sir Caradon lost in thought.
"Does he speak no other language? You said he understands all languages," asked Sir Caradon after a time.
Amalthea shook her head again. "When he first came, he cast three spells. His first spell was to understand us. He did not need to learn after that, could not learn, for he simply understood. His next spell meant that we, all of us, understood his speech in turn."
Sir Caradon's jaw dropped. "He just ... that could not have been a simple spell, even *I* know that much of magic."
Amalthea shrugged. "It should not have been, but for him, it was. It also meant that he knew Weirding, and so knew of both the arch-wizards's and the imperial family's plans for him, as they spoke Weirding in front of him when he was brought into the court."
Sir Caradon stared at her, then looked back to the twitchy man. He'd attracted more ravens. He was nearly covered with them, and seemed quite happy.
He turned his attention back to Amalthea. "And the third spell he cast?"
"He says he spoke his mind and told everyone at court that he hoped that they got everything that was coming to them for their actions. He also says that it is why he learned hand-sign, since he claims to enjoy blaspheming and insulting others who deserve it, although he has only been kind so far as I have seen," said Amalthea, smiling faintly.
Sir Caradon laughed uproariously at that. "Who doesn't? Well, church-folk, good, traditional church-folk, I mean, not church-folk like me, probably don't, but most everyone else enjoys a fine tirade every so often. I don't know what's so bad about speaking your mind that would make you want to never speak aloud again, even if he did do it in the midst of the grand imperial court."
"Yes, but your native tongue is not the Tongue of Magic, or what do you think caused the Maelstrom?" asked Amalthea.
Sir Caradon looked back at the twitchy man again. The ravens had left, and he seemed sad once more.
"Do you also know his hand-sign?" asked Sir Caradon, looking ahead at the road, lost in thought.
Amalthea sat straighter in her seat. "I taught it to him."
"Perhaps ... perhaps, if you are willing, you could teach me hand-sign? A good man like him would do well to have some friends. More than one friend, I mean," asked Sir Caradon, quieter now.
Amalthea smiled. "I would be happy to."
+++++
Did a different take than the prompt asked for, but this felt like a more interesting angle to me.
If you liked this, check out r/archtech88writes | **(SIDE NOTE: First Time Writer, long time lurker)**
**(ADDITIONAL NOTE: Post contains some curse words)**
**(P.S.S. You will intentionall see words used wrong when spells are cast by the dwellers of the "other world" as they are using broken english, where as the MC will use "perfect english")**
\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~
Hi, my name is Sato Nobuo, I'm your typical Otoku who works 9-5, 6 days a week, and spends all my money on anime shit... cause you know what? I'm a weeb, not something I'm particularly proud of, but I really don't feel like changing it. I'm a 32 years old female, no lover, no kids, and no family...
While walking to work (cause I spent all my money on anime shit, to the point I couldn't afford a car) I heard my name called out... I turned around trying to place the name, but couldn't. I sounded like it was literally coming from all around me. I mean yeah the sidewalk was filled with a bunch of stangers, but none of which should know me... you know? Anyway... all of a sudden a bright light appears right below me, making me have to cover my eyes, but also hold down my dress, cause somehow the wind wanted to be a pervert today... *greeaaat*!
After what felt like 5 solid minutes of covering my eyes from this blinding light, it (as suddenly as it appeared) disappeared. I remove my arm from my eyes, and see that I have somehow found my self in a church...
*A fucking church... this muct be a joke, like who the fuck snatches someone and brings them to a church?!*
Completely oblivious to the fact that there are other people in this church... Once I actually notice them, I jumped back and screamed. "*What the ever living fuck!*" I looked at the people around me and notice they are all wearing white robes with a gold-color linging... looking at me as if I'm the crazier one?!
One of the white robed figures approach me, who i assume female, because I mean her figure was a 10/10 straight from a harem anime... "*shinpai shina ide, watashitachi haana ta ni shi no kodomo o kizutsukeru tsu mo ri haa rima sen...*"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*Do not fret, we are not going to hurt you my child...*"\]
&#x200B;
Like as if that is suppose to calm me down, but I mean if they really did mean to hurt me, they would have done so already... right? All of the white clocked figures take off their hoods and what I saw perplexed me instantly... There was an elf, a (what I can only assume) 2 Cat humans (*aka a feline demi-humans*), and than other humans... 12 all together. I looked down and noticed a sigil under me... that I somehow failed to notice before. I don't know how I also failed to hear, but they are speaking a different language then me, yet somehow I also understand what they are saying in perfect english.
I ask "*Ummm... quick question, am I seeing an Elf and 2 demi-humans right now?*"
The robed figures look at each other, as if confused by what I just said, but at the same time not. The Elf girl cuite comes up to me and replies "*wareware no nakama o chi tte ru noka?*"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*Do you already know of our people, child?*"\]
&#x200B;
"*Ummm... I suppose? Though why do you ask? It sounds like you were just amazed that I knew of elves and demi-humans?*" I state.
The elf girl replies back with "*watashitachi ha, ana ta o watashitachi no sekai ni shoukan shi ta go, ana ta jishin no you nako tomo ha ka ga ki ko tte i ru noka rikai shite i nai to katei shima shi ta*...?"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*We assumed that after summoning you to our world, a child such as yourself would not understand what is going on...?*"\]
&#x200B;
When I am about to answer, the elf girl notices that I have injuries lacerated around my body, before even asking about them, she speaks and this time in broken english: "*Goddess, I child call upon you and ask that you heal this person so that there wounds are no more!*"
Right when I'm about to ask what that was about, a greenish yellow light appears at her hand and wraps itself around me, covering me in a arua of warmth. I feel, not only see, but feel at the inguries I have gained over the past 3 decades heal and vanish. When the healing finishes, I notice that the elf girl looks extremely tired as if she just worked a 15 hour shift. Right as she is collapsing, I quickly grab her, and sweep her up in my arms. Carefull to ensure that I don't accidentally hurt her.
The other's noticing and factinated that I can pick a person so easily (I mean so am I, I only weight 90 pounds and can't even lift 20 pounds) gesture me to follow them. We go to a room, and I lay her down on the bed.
\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~
**END OF PART 1... I will probably make part 2 within the next few hours... arms in pain, and back is in pain. Well it also depends if people actually like this story too...**
&#x200B;
Hey Guys, if you want to read more of this, go to my subreddit r/StorytimeWithTheBrits. I already posted both of these posts there so that you guys can see not only this story, but also any other story I make in the future! | 2022-11-19T11:10:08 | 2022-11-19T06:13:41 | 993 | 78 |
[WP] "Double Edge" Is a legendary unique sword that is available for a handful of copper. It is the sharpest and strongest weapon in existence. It also talks, and roasts the living hell out of its owner constantly, pulling no punches. Write a story of one of its many, many owners. | "Ah yes sire, a bargain at any price." The grinning man passed the black sword across the counter of his shop to me. His smile betrayed his intent, as the words formed on his lips dripping with venom, the corners of his mouth turning just ever so slightly upward. He knew the sword, knew it's curse, and he had sold the blade countless times.
My hand grasped the hilt and the feeling was instant, perfectly balanced, the cool leather grip succumbed to my finger's lightest touch. A mild vibration ran up the length of my arm as I took the blade fully into my posession, a sinister glint passed over the shopkeeper's eyes as he awaited my reaction.
I provided none. A sword that held the power to slay any enemy, overcome any challenge I may face, only it eats away at the morale? A perfect blade for a deaf man. The shopkeeper's face slumped for a moment and then radiated with a genuine smile as he realized. I left the small shop with a grin, setting out to conquer my destiny. | "You mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries!"
"For once in my life, can you SHUT UP?!"
>Hi there. The name's Johnathan Grikks. And my sword hates me.
"YOU SWING LIKE A INFANT!"
"No I don't, asshole!"
The man slashes at the throat of his oponent, causing them to choke on their own blood.
"And your aim sucks more then you mother does on a daily basis!"
"I WILL THROW YOU IN THE OCEAN IF YOU WON'T STOP."
>Incase you couldn't tell, my sword LOVES to insult me. As it turns out, it's a pretty well known sword for that specific reason.
The man screams in frustration, repeatedly slamming the sword into a rock that just splits on every impact.
"You call yourself a warrior?! Your grip feels like that of a little girl!"
"JUST SHUT UP FOR FIVE SECONDS!!"
>I'd say the hatred is pretty mutual. However...
The man stands atop the head of a dragon's corpse, bloodied and cut.
"What was that, a mosquito?! Why'd you take so long?!"
"...I'm just gonna take that one as a compliment... partner."
>It's still a pretty dependable blade.
"You smell of cheese and urine!"
>Still hate it though. | 2022-11-30T09:49:48 | 2022-11-30T09:11:08 | 256 | 183 |
[WP] An imaginary friend can't stand the child to whom he/she/it has been assigned. | Pressure. Maintain pressure.
There’s only so much a man can take, even an imaginary man.
Pressure on me, and pressure, now, on you.
I hold the pillow down tight, and the struggling is brief, though I maintain the pressure for several minutes.
They’ll call it SIDS, or crib death; I’ll call it sweet justice. Some flickers were not meant to be flame. And you, you spoiled petulant child, the product of spoiled petulant people; you will trouble no one any longer.
| Day 249 plus some. Shit I should have started counting earlier. I forgot I could file for a new kid after day 365. I never thought I'd have too... now I see why some imaginaries go all "monster under the bed" this kid deserves a monster...
"Hairy, where you at bitch?" Damn, it. Well they always said at the Academy that smiles can fix just about any child... *poof* hellllooooo Danny! What are we doing today?! As I force out the cheery words I see a metal bat coming towards me from the left. *clank* "nothing I'm just bored. Let's play gladiator. You can be the bear" *clank* only 116 days to go... | 2014-04-10T10:58:27 | 2014-04-10T09:47:24 | 147 | 20 |
[WP] An imaginary friend can't stand the child to whom he/she/it has been assigned. | "Fuck you, Ma."
Her lips pressed together, so hard they turned white. Gerry Salamander was grinning at me, green thumbs raised high. His t-shirt said, "GOOD WORK!"
"You need to *go*. To your *room*. *Now.* And when I am ready to talk to you, you need to have thought about what you're going to say to me."
I padded barefoot up the hall, wood cool under my toes. Gerry Salamander glided smoothly along the wall beside me. His t-shirt now said, "FUCK HER!"
I'm a big kid now. I know all the swear words. I'm also big enough to know that Gerry likes it when I get in trouble. He likes it when Mom is mad at me. I'm pretty sure Gerry Salamander doesn't like me.
I kind of figured it out when I was four. Gerry Salamander has been here as long as I can remember, my whole life maybe, and he always smiles a big wide smile with lots and lots and *lots* of teeth, way more than most people.
He's kind of a person. But only I can see him. And he has green skin. And purple hair that looks kind of like a Lego figurine's hair. I don't know.
Anyway, when I was four I was playing with my PSP on my bed. Gerry Salamander came out from under my bed and picked up my remote-control car. He gave me a big smile and then he threw my car so hard at the wall that it smashed.
His t-shirt said, "FUNNY, HUH?"
I didn't think it was funny. I really liked that car. And Mom took my PSP away. When Dad came home he spanked me. Gerry Salamander watched. He was smiling.
That's when I knew he didn't like me.
I don't like him much, either. When I was a little kid I tried telling my parents about him, but the first time they just laughed and told their grown-up friends how I had an imaginary friend. And then their friends laughed too, and ruffled up my hair and told me how funny I was.
I told them again, and every time Gerry Salamander did something bad, smiling with all his teeth, I'd try to tell them again, but then they would just roll their eyes and be all sarcastic, like, "Oh, *yeah*, I suppose Gerry Salamander sucks your *thumb* for you, too."
And Gerry would stand there, t-shirt flashing, "FUCKING MORONS".
I want him to go away.
I told him, when I was six. I asked him why he didn't just leave, since he was so mean to me. I said, he obviously didn't like being my imaginary friend. He doesn't talk. He says things on his t-shirt. When I asked him, his t-shirt said, "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU." He smiled his teeth at me. I went outside and swung on the swing for a really long time.
Now he makes me do things for him. And if I don't do them he does even worse things. When I said, "Fuck you," to my Mom, I only said it because Gerry Salamander's t-shirt said that if I didn't, he'd cut her throat. He started a fire in our woodpile last summer when I wouldn't try Dad's cigarettes. It spread up the wall of the house and we had to get the garage demolished. They thought I did it, of course.
He's getting pretty scary. I don't know what he'll do next. | Here I am, the knight in shining armor, facing down the Boogeyman for what seems like the hundredth time. It's probably been more than that.
Tonight he's in the closet.
And I'm armed with a lollipop.
Why am I armed with a lollipop, Sarah? I told you I was a valiant knight. I told you I had a shining sword that would strike down your fears, and a towering shield that would shelter you from harm.
But no, tonight have a lollipop. Oh, and lest I forget, a teddy bear strapped to my arm.
And tonight Mr. Boogeyman is a writhing mass of tentacles and teeth and how is what he's doing right now even geometrically possible?
Lady, stop letting your kid read Lovecraft. This is way too grim-dark for a six-year-old's dreams.
Alright, well, on to the fray. Lollipop, Mr. Snookers and all.
I mean, it's not even a big lollipop, like they have in the cartoons she's been rotting her brain with. It's that same, half-melted sugar block that she got from the bank teller and then dropped on the floor of the car when she tried to talk with her mouth full. Probably the only lesson I've heard since my assignment that her mom got right.
Dreams Above, what did they put me into here with this kid. What did I do to deserve this?
Alright fine, let's see if she's a little more cooperative tonight.
"Sarah!" I yell to her over my shoulder. Sleeping in her bed. 'Course, I wouldn't be here if she was awake. Then I'd be exactly what she made of me, say precisely whatever she wanted me to say. Them's the rules.
"Sarah, I need my sword! Remember me telling you about my sword?"
Fates and Fae, it worked! My sword, where there was a sticky lollipop a moment before. Time to show this guy who's boss.
Of course. Of COURSE it's made of cardboard. ARGH! WHY did I have to get the one that doesn't pay attention?! Probably that brat down the street hitting her with his sword. Yeah... this is an exact replica. Bad association. Maybe next time I'll tell her I have--OW! Get off me, you grabby punk!
Why is the world spinning? Oh, right... I went into a fight against a nightmare without being properly equipped. NO, this is NOT my fault! She never listens! You've seen her, she barely listens to her own father, and he's the one that buys her strawberry ice cream on the weekends!
Guardian angels are so freakin' judgmental. I'm just trying to to my job, here.
Not much I can do now... Disarmed, beaten to a pulp. Yup, he's going up to her on the bed, just like the last time I lost... Kid, you really should've realized that a "bear claw" is a tasty treat, but it makes a bad weapon. You've got a food fixation, you know that?
Yup, and here comes the outstretched tentacle... She almost deserves it. ARGH! Why do I have to hurt when she does--OW! Aaaand here it comes.
Oof. Back in the waking world now and, yeah... she's crying. Hey, you didn't get your butt handed to you by the Terror of the Deep! Where do you even get this stuff, anyway?
Oh hey Mom, convenient you happened to show up now that it's too late and you couldn't have done anything to help her out anyway seeing how you can't even see nightmares. Hey, why don't you make yourself useful and tell your kid what a real sword looks like?
Yes, I know she can't hear me. She can't hear you either, you smug, feathered idiot.
I hate my job.
So much. | 2014-04-10T12:36:59 | 2014-04-10T12:27:36 | 63 | 16 |
[WP] A little boy becomes a man, from the perspective of his assigned NSA agent
Could either be over a long period of time, or a single pivotal event... | "Mrs. Johnson? I'm Agent Ngai and this is Agent Powers. We're from the National Security Agency. Can we come in?"
The screen door creaked open and Beth Johnson showed the agents to the kitchen. Her offer of coffee was refused so she sat.
"What's this all about? Is it Bobby? Has he done something?"
"No Mam, your husband is fine and in no trouble at all. It's James that we want to talk to you about" Ngai tried to use as optimistic a tone as possible to keep the woman calm. This type of situation was never easy.
"Jimmy? Why?" she fumbled with her mug, her voice rising in pitch. Powers placed a hand on her arm for reassurance. He smiled.
Ngai explained "Well, actually, we're here on a recruitment mission. You see, James has expressed some talents that we would find very useful in the types of operations we conduct."
"What's he done? I told those people at the Bank about the ATM. He gave all the money back and even helped them fix it"
"We know mam. It's a little bit bigger than that." Ngai said. Powers pushed some papers towards Mrs Johnson. "Since James is a minor, we're going to need your permission to hire him. So if you could just sign next to the Xs on these forms" Powers handed Mrs Johnson his pen.
She gave the forms a quick look and started to sign. Stopping and flipping to seventh page, she paused and read aloud "gives permission to remove said Child from premise and transfers full custody to the National Security Agency". She look first at Powers and then at Ngai. "You mind explaining what I'm signing?"
*shit, doesn't matter how ignorant they are they always see page seven* Ngai thought then spoke "Mam, what it means is that for certain operations, your son may need to be placed in our custody. It's for his own safety."
"You're taking my Jimmy away. For Christsake he's a 10 year old boy" Mrs. Johnson voice had raised to a level just below a scream.
"With all due respect Mam" Powers said "once you've obtained the Pakistani nuclear launch codes, the Government considers you a man." | "You ready?" whispered Tommy with a grin. "Yea...Yea I'm ready." Vivian whispered anxiously, "I'm just nervous that's all. It's my first time and all." "Yea, it's my first time too, but don't worry you'll be fine. We'll both be!" said Tommy sanguinely. "Okay, let's do this." smiled back Vivian with a wink. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here..." began the priest in a monotone voice. Today was Tommy and Vivian's wedding day. They were "hopeless romantics" as their friends liked to say; they fell for each other freshmen year of college and after three years in a relationship, decided to get married. Their parents believed they were too young, too naive but decided to trust them basing their judgment on some unconditional love bullcrap.
They were in a small, quaint church, surrounded by their closest friends, family, coworkers, role models, etc. "Today was their big day or should I say it was for a big day for Tommy and I." chuckled Alex with a grin. Alex, a NSA agent, smoked a cigar in the surveillance room. "Hey Jared? You watching the wedding unfold, buddy?" shouted Alex. "Yea, can't believe, my girl Vivian's all grow up." replied Jared from another room. "Well, you better stop it, ya sleazy bastard!" cackled Alex shortly followed by a loud cough. "Same goes for you, ya pedo!" replied Jared with an ecstatic shout. Alex and Jared were assigned to look after Tommy and Vivian respectively ever since the two lovebirds were born. Tommy and Vivian were the kids of distinguished ambassadors; therefore, the United States government wanted them closely monitored.
"I'm tearing up, Jared. Ain't love a beautiful sight? The feeling of euphoria that's created is simply indescribable." said Alex, with his head turned to Jared with a choked up voice. "Ay, don't get all poetic on me ya bastard." shouted Jared with a laugh, "Wells, how about, after the wedding we take the day off. I mean, it's not like the boss is gonna find out or anything." "Alright, sounds good." replied Alex. Alex stared at the monitor once more and simply smiled at the sight he was witnessing. "I do." said Tommy and Vivian in unison. "You may kiss the bride." said the priest. They kissed and shouts and cheers echoed from the grainy monitor. "Attaboy, Tommy." whispered Alex with a grin. | 2014-06-10T06:06:29 | 2014-06-10T04:47:28 | 16 | 10 |
[WP] Its 2am in Washington DC and Bill has the night shift at the Gas-n-Go. The President comes in and buys a six pack, a bag of Doritos and a pack of cigarettes. He is by himself. | It was just the cashier and one customer. The cashier wore a nametag that said, "Bill". The customer wore no such identification, in fact, had gone to cartoonish lengths to hide his features under a wide brimmed hat and beneath a baggy, beige trenchcoat.
The customer didn't dally, but walked straight up to the items he required: a six of Bud Light longnecks and a family size bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. He then went to the counter and asked for a pack of Camel Wides.
The cashier said, "Am I going to have to tell Michelle on you, Barry?"
The customer snorted underneath his hat. "Only if I get to tell Hillary about your second job."
Bill smiled, ringing up the few items. "So how'd you give them the slip this time?"
"Roofies for the guys at the door. Nobody looked at me twice otherwise. You?"
Bill shrugged, "She's stopped asking where I go nights."
"Learning anything?"
"Only that 'I've got one of those faces' works just about every time to avoid questions, but not second looks really."
"You still liking this?"
"It still gives me an ear to the ground in Washington, so yeah. Besides, if taxes keep going they way they are, I might just need the money."
The customer looked up enough to glare at the cashier while still keep the camera from getting a full look at his face. He then handed the cashier a twenty without asking the price.
"See you around, Bill."
"See you around, Barry."
The customer left without another word, skulking back to the most iconic building in America. Bill, on the other hand, stepped around from behind the counter and went back to mopping, relieve that he no longer had to make that trek himself. | Bill didn't pay attention to the tall, aging man, with plain clothing walking into the store, just another body to pay attention to. The T.V. was on, Bill liked to watch the news while he was working the graveyard shift. The talking heads were talking about ISIS and what were the best steps to take with such a threat. Bill had always been an underachiever but had an affinity for politics, especially when it involved something overseas. Bill began thinking, he even began muttering aloud. As he let out an audible "That's what we should be doing over there," the Man dropped his purchases on the counter, nothing special, a pack of bud light, spicy sweet chili Doritos, and a request for a pack of parliament lights. Wait, there was something special about the voice, something familiar. Bill finally looked up and saw the last person he would expect to come to an establishment such as this one.
"So, what do you think we should be doing with ISIS." Said President Barack Obama.
"Wh-What!?" Trying to regain composure, Bill lowered his volume "Mr President, what are you doing here, where is your security team?"
"I decided to give them the night off, actually, I didn't tell them I was going for a snack run More importantly, back to my question, what exactly do you think we should be doing with ISIS."
"I couldn't possibly comment." Bill was floored.
"Please, Bill is it? I would be honored to hear your thoughts."
The next hour was the most interesting of Bill's life. He spoke to Barack, as he had asked Bill to call him, about some of his experimental ideas, things he wasn't even sure why he would bother mentioning to any of his friends, let alone the Commander-In-Chief.
President Obama looked at his watch and with his parting words said "Bill, I truly enjoyed speaking with you today, in fact why don't you give my people a call, and we'll get you a job interview as one of my political advisers, have a good night, I hope to hear from you soon." | 2014-09-10T12:03:03 | 2014-09-10T11:11:41 | 145 | 55 |
[WP] The Grim Reaper is no longer able to claim lives directly. Instead, when your time is up a mark appears on your body and it is the duty of every other person to kill you on sight. | “I don’t exactly know what happened,” Clyde said. “It was a long time ago. Maybe he lost his scythe?”
Bonnie laughed, “Right. Maybe he lost his scythe. Go ahead and knock.”
Clyde pounded on the front door.
A shirtless man answered and folded his arms, “I know why you’re here.”
“Good. Let me see your foreskin.”
“Nope.”
“Glenn, we’re your neighbors. It’s our civic duty. Let me see your foreskin.” Clyde unlatched his belt. He lowered his underwear. “Look,” he said and pointed to the tip of his penis. “Now let me see yours.”
Glenn sighed, “Okay. Fine. It fell off last night. I’m officially circumcised. I’m ready. Send me to heaven.”
Bonnie reacted quickly. She karate-chopped Glenn to death. | Ok, hi I can't talk um... This camera doesn't have much power left and uh... Oh Jesus
(Sounds of distant, angry yelling)
Ok I don't have a lot of time left, my name is Stanley and earlier this day, the death mark appeared on my forehead. I didn't even notice it until everyone around me started to stare and surround me, Uhhh...
Now I'm currently hiding from the angry mob outside and my face is all over the news... I just can't deal with this, I'm too young to go out like this... Goddammit, I'm only 25!
I'm recording this to tell you why this is so fucked up, do you not realize what we've become? Suddenly the Grim Reaper gets lazy and tells us to deal with it, why can't we just ignore him! Please don't do this to anyone else, it's too late for me to change anything so please please please don't attack anyone else with the stupid mark.
I'm freaking out and-
(Sound of door slamming open and angry yelling)
OH FU- (camera battery dies) | 2014-10-28T17:28:49 | 2014-10-28T16:19:29 | 54 | 15 |
[WP] The reason she never called you back was because she was abducted by an alien civilization. She adapted, grew, and lead a rebellion to overthrow the tyrant that ruled there. Today she just texted that she wants to go out again.
Edit: This is the song that was playing when this popped in my head. Not sure if it will set the right mood for you or not.
[Disclosure - Help Me Lose My Mind](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TBW9VEE29W4) (link fixed now) | "All those years?" I was crying. "I missed you so much. I hated everybody. I took out my loss for you on them. Now you come back. Finally."
"Yes," she said firmly. "I promised I would always love you. I have fought everything to save the people I found myself amongst and when we made it they wanted to make me queen or something but I refused. I didn't want to govern anybody or anything. I wanted them to be free and that's self rule to me and I just wanted to come home to you."
"But it has been so long and it hurt so much," I stared into her eyes. "You might not like what I have become."
"We can fix anything," she insisted. "I set the space ship to trace you and bring me straight to you. You are everything to me and now I have you again."
"But I'm changed," I was holding my head in my hands. "You deserve better. Much better."
"You aren't married," she looked suddenly worried. "Or in a relationship or something are you?"
"No, No," I said, "There could never be anybody but you. I could never love anybody else."
"So what have you done with your life?" she brightened up. "You seem to have a pretty nice place here."
I drew a deep breath. She had to know. "I am James the Imperator," I said. "I am Absolute ruler of the whole Earth. Well. All that is left after my wars of conquest." | I was idling on my bed that morning, earphones plugged, nodding slowly, rocking to that metal playlist from my media player. I felt vibration in my left pocket and took my cellphone out.
My jaw dropped, my hear skipped a beat, my earphones slowly being pulled out from my ears. I haven't blinked.
This cannot be real. I lost her. I lost her for 7 years. My life was in shambles since she was gone. We were suppose to be perfect together and we were suppose to be partners for life...until that night. I can never forget that day.
August 31st 11:29 pm. I remember seeing that bright purple light with strange inscription that illuminated the sky. I remembered hearing her parents cry their heart through the phone. I remember running as fast as I could until couldn't breath anymore. Stumbled and helpless, I saw you, I saw her lifted in the air and hovered slowly towards the sky. The buzzing noise from the sky was deafening making everything else inaudible. When I reached to the focus point of the light, I was too late. Her long braided hair and slender figure just eluding my grasp by a mere seconds. I just stood there speechless. As she looked back to me one last time, I caught a few of her final words from the movement of her lips:
Wait. Be back. Promise. Love.
She is back. I am on the verge of bursting into tears. So many questions to be asked. So many painful years behind me to be redeemed. I am dumbfounded really. Full-throttled mixed emotions. But all that needs to be put aside first. After all these years, she is back.
I sat down on my bed, took a deep breath and steadied my fingers still shaking from this unbelievable reality.
I replied.
Welcome home Jinx. <3 | 2014-11-11T12:04:58 | 2014-11-11T11:37:27 | 313 | 24 |
[WP] Airport authorities don’t recognize your passport because the country that issued it doesn’t exist. You are confused. You’re thinking: “What? I was born there! I’ve lived there all my life!”
Edit after 4 hours: I'd like to add that this writing prompt was inspired from this: http://www.reddit.com/r/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/1zsyz2/on_july_1954_a_man_arrives_at_tokyo_airport_in/ | “What do you mean?!” The man exclamed, hysterical.
“It doesn’t exist, sir.” I said, sighing. I had had to put up with a lot of clueless travelers throughout the years, but ever since the ‘big opening’ was a fact following the inevitable collapse, their ranks were swelling.
“Are you telling me that my whole life has been a lie?! Tell it in my face, lying bastard!” He yelled, balling his fists.
He and his baggage were holding up quite a line. It would be a busy day indeed.
“Shall I call security?” my partner asked, unable to mask a small smile.
I shook my head. “Listen dude, I don’t know what they’ve told you there, but it surely wasn’t the truth. The place doesn’t exist.”
“But why did I pass the gates then, hmm?” he said. “My passport is legit!”
“I never said that your passport wasn’t legit, just that your country of birth doesn’t exist.” I tried to explain it to him. But deep in my heart, I knew it was futile. They would never understand. Their government had indoctrinated them for far too long.
“It’s just that there’s no such place as Best Korea.”
| *Seemed interesting, thought I'd try it. Wanted to avoid the Viktor Navorski route. Suck at first person like this*
"What?! I was born there! I've lived there all my life!"
"I'm telling you sir, this passport does not match any that exist."
I glared at the TSA clerk. Or rather, clerks. By now, a fairly sizable group of the them had crowded around to see what the commotion was about. Hell, I even drew the attention of the one guy with the gun, his hand hovering uncomfortably close to the grip.
"So you're telling me, that the country that I love doesn't exist?" I asked rather sarcastically.
"That is exactly what I'm telling you."
"WELL THIS IS A FINE FUCKING PIECE OF NEWS TO ME!"
The guy with the gun stepped forward "sir, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down"
"Calm down? CALM DOWN!? YOU PEOPLE ARE TELLING ME THAT EVERYTHING I KNOW IS A LIE!"
The head agent nodded to the guy with the gun and another agent "sir, we're going to have to ask you to come with us."
With that, they moved to both sides of me and took hold of my arms. They begun to drag me towards a door.
I can't believe this "What the hell are you doing? No. Stop! I AM A CITIZEN OF THE CONFEDERATE STATES OF AMERICA! STOP!" | 2014-11-23T09:29:43 | 2014-11-23T08:45:00 | 821 | 257 |
[WP] You hire a witch doctor to curse someone. However, the only curses you can afford are extremely petty. | Witch doctor, Witch doctor
I've got a request
i've read the reviews
they said you're the best
***
Witch doctor, Witch doctor
i'm short on cash
but i still need to make
a good backstab
***
Damn, Freddy
it was ugly
what ya did to me
truly
***
i swear
i'd have you 86'd
if i had the money (ha!)
***
but Witch doctor
if all you can do
is give him the flu
make him blue
cut his hair
make stoplight's unfair
wrinkle his sweater
clothes don't fit better
trip and fall
do it all
***
set his alarm 20 minutes late
make him nauseas when he already ate
***
make every line wait increase by 2
every grate he passes, make his money fall through
***
when he speeds, there's a cop on the street
double the fine when he starts to plead
***
every time he starts to doze off
his boss happens to walk in on
***
Witch doctor, Witch doctor
make it so
it's all i can afford
and he'll never know! | "Six gold bits! That's ridiculous. Good luck elixir is cheaper than that, not to mention guaranteed to work. There's not even any proof that your so called spells will do anything!" The irate potential customer standing in my homely little shop stomped his foot to accentuate his complaints. I resisted the urge to fill his petulant face with boils.
"Ah, but good luck elixir is white magic. Legal magic. What you're asking me to do is black magic. Any magic intended to harm another is strictly forbidden. I'd really be sticking my neck out for you so pay up or shut up," my forced drawl came out a little impatient at the end. I had better things to do than argue with this petty creature and the electric sparks of magic dancing between my fingertips would soon expose my irritation.
"Intending to harm?" My maybe-customer scoffed. "What you described to me sounded more like a child's pranks than a spell that intends ha--" suddenly my definitely-not customer sputtered, his face growing red and mouth forming an indignant "o" as he struggled for words. The burning urge to scratch himself inappropriately actually improved his features.
I laughed. "You may want to try some preparation H or hydrocortisone cream with aloe for that," I remarked condescendingly. "Next time don't take hemorrhoids so lightly." | 2014-12-13T13:01:48 | 2014-12-13T11:39:14 | 23 | 14 |
[WP] On the day you turn 18 everyone is given the first words that their soulmate will speak to them. When you receive yours it says simply "Welcome to Starbucks. Can I take your order?" | It was a freezing morning in New York.
I slipped into the local Starbucks for some coffee.
There was a new cashier today.
"Welcome to Starbucks. Can I take your order?", She asked, exasperated.
"Soy un federale, tengo un gato en mis pantalones," I replied.
The disinterested look on her face vanished instantly.
"You...", she said, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
For a second my heart skipped a beat.
"Do you know how many years I've spent working in Mexico because of your bullshit!?" She yelled, smashing her fists on the Register.
It was her.
She was the one.
Edit: Damn, first gold. Didn't expect this. Thanks guys! | My eighteenth birthday came... I went out to the mailbox, and pulled out the little gold envelope with the red string perfectly surrounding the whole thing. It was expected. Though no one knew where it was from, it hardly mattered. It was exciting, and a little frightening to find out what my soul mate would say to me. Would I know it was them for sure? Or like some others I had heard of... Would it be a common greeting?
I took it inside, and opened it. I didn't wait for my parents, or my sister to be about. I wanted to find out on my own.
Carefully, I opened the envelope with a letter opener. Slowly I lifted the paper out, savoring the moment. The day I would learn more about my soul mate. The person I would spend my whole life with! But as I read the words my face fell, and my brow crinkled in confusion.
"What's 'starbucks'?" | 2014-12-17T23:12:07 | 2014-12-17T22:06:48 | 2,270 | 45 |
[WP] On the day you turn 18 everyone is given the first words that their soulmate will speak to them. When you receive yours it says simply "Welcome to Starbucks. Can I take your order?" | It comes in a dream on your eighteenth birthday. If you have a soulmate, and it turns out about 80% of people do, you have a dream about meeting your soulmate for the first time. The only thing you really remember from that dream are the first words they say to you. Not their face or name or even what you say to them, just those first words. This has led to a lot of people always introducing themselves by name, that way your soulmate can track you down. It seems to work, but then you hear stories about the vague ones. Aunt Selma's soulmate said to her, "Hey gorgeous, wanna get high?" which supposedly led to some quesitonable drug use (the family doesn't talk about it much).
My dream was also vague, "Welcome to Starbucks. Can I take your order?" Sounds like a barista to me, right? Except I drank their crap coffee for 8 years and found every way to be disappointed.
Firstly, I thought, "Hey, if I always use a unique order, maybe she'll recognize it when I say it and we'll know." Unfortunately, now to this day I can't think of an extra shot no-whip mocha without wanting to gag a little. Tea is the only thing I can stand anymore.
Second, it turns out almost no baristas actually say, "Welcome to Starbucks. Can I take your order?" Instead it's, "Hi, how can I help you?" or "What would you like?" It took almost a year before someone actually said the exact phrase, and it was another dude. I just walked out without ordering because I didn't want to risk finding out at that moment I was actually gay; it would have been quite the shock.
Third, a bunch of baristas are actually under 18, which is another terrifying possibility. If you're under 18, you haven't had the dream yet, so you don't know what your partner is going to say. You could meet your soulmate and never know, and in fact people think those who don't have a dream have already met their soulmates.
Anyway, I did finally meet her. I was having a shit day, doing a bad job on my dissertation, so my buddies dragged me out for a drink. One drink turned into two or three and eventually I was hammered. I griped about how I couldn't ever find my soulmate when one of them had a brilliant idea. We charged back on campus, straight to the library where there were always a couple dozen students even late at night like this. I walked out into the middle of the main room and shouted out to everyone, "May I have your attention please! Will my soulmate please stand up and say, 'Welcome to Starbucks. Can I take your order?' Thank you." A lot of laughter ensued and some students threw paper and pens at me. While the library staff was herding my friends and I out the door, I hear it, "Welcome to Starbucks. Can I take your order?" I turn, and there's this this girl who looks like she's been sleeping in the library for finals week studying, pajama bottoms and t-shirt, no makeup or anything, but to me she's the most beautiful woman in the world right there. My friends and the library staff are just standing there stunned, and I walk up and plant the biggest drunken kiss on this girl's lips. Then the room started spinning and I had to vomit, but I did get her number somehow and we had a proper date the next day. The rest is history. | “It’s hard to tell if it’s all the caffeine I drink or this life path I’ve been forced on which leads to my high blood pressure, exhaustion, and ragged willpower. You know, leading scientific minds have argued that one of the great variables in determining overall emotional stability is how much control you have in your life. They’ve proven it with rats, you see. A rat that in a cage where he knows that if he steps in the left corner, he will receive a shock, and if he steps in the right corner, he gets a treat has less cortisol levels than a rat who just gets random electric pulses scourging his neurons while sadistic scientists make it rain with peanuts.
It was hard to devise an ethical experiment on the human subject that was parallel to this theme, but ever since the EVRPHRASE corps came out with their certifiable love combatibility scrabble game, different phrases correlate to the overall well being of the individual.
Why am I playing this pseudo science game like I’m some sort of expert with the rats and the like? Answer: I got my phrase 26 years ago. “Welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order?”
My mother didn’t get it.
‘I’m so very happy for you! Grandkids! Grandkids!’
My father joined in: “Grand-KIDS, Grand-KIDS!!”
They later separated because Dad’s EVRphrase turned out to be Kimberly the receptionist’s “Is it okay if I fax my resume? I’m currently in Vancouver and can’t make the interview.” And not what my mom said: “HAH! Hey Cat! Come on, this is my favorite song, swing me around some?”
Admittedly, my phrase could be worse. It could’ve been “hi, whats your name?” or “Paper or Plastic?”. This EVRphrase gives me a secure location. Unless some fucking hipster joint is letting their cashiers take a lot of liberty with their ironic greetings. Believe me, I have thought out all the possibilities.
So, I’ve been exclusively dating baristas for 26 years. 26 years of smelling clothes wrenching of cocoa beans harvested from disappearing rainforests. 26 years of financial dependence. I don’t even mean to be a sugar momma, I’m a normal real estate worker, but god when they hit me with those starving collegiate broke ass eyes, I’m disgustingly a pushover.
Dating anyone else in any other profession just feels wrong. It’s tinged with inevitable defeat-which incidentally- smells a lot like insecurity and used Kleenex.
I mean I’ve taken measured steps to stave the discouragement. I’m in a support group. “Starbucks Lovers”. And yes, before you ask, ‘Blank Spaces’ by Taylor Swift is our anthem. Don’t you dare disparage me for that, that song is the sunshine in my life, ok?
All the boys and girls who are lucky enough to get the same EVRphrase meet in a convention hall every Monday. We divide into groups and scout different zonations of Starbucks inhabited streets. We come back and report our reapings.
“Hey Martha, I didn’t feel a spark, but maybe you should try your luck on Roger, closing shift, Magnolia Avenue.”
This is the life I lead. It’s not a quirky comedic romance. It’s tiresome, It’s caffeinated, and what really hurts is the hard truth that I’ve been working so hard to reach out to this “soul mate”, and I can’t help feeling that my efforts have been fruitless because he doesn’t have that same love starvation that has me making appointments to be at a Starbucks at Tuesday 8 pm sharp on Magnolia Avenue to meet Roger and ask him for ‘just tap water, wanna make out?’”
Martha gasped for air. Roger was sweating bullets, and his shirt collar suddenly felt too tight.
“I’ll get you that water then.” Roger sprang into the backroom.
| 2014-12-18T00:40:41 | 2014-12-17T21:39:09 | 355 | 52 |
[WP]2000 years from now, history is misunderstood and retold as a series of myths where nations are represented as individual gods,citizens as worshipers and corporations and NGOs as demons/angels(lesser gods).Chronicle current world crises in the style of ancient myths.
-Global warming
-colonization
-World wars
-cold war
-globalization
-ISIS
-space race
-nuclear deterrence(Mutually assured destruction)
-US intervention
-US vs china
-US vs russia
-the internet (as a powerful untameable beast perhaps)
Etc
| During the winter
As blizzards extinguished the dying fires of the second great war
Worshipers and lesser gods stood on rubble and beheld the two great dragons
perched on a mighty wall.
They were the dragon of the sky,and the blood dragon.they roared and bellowed and shook the ground
Laying their claims to their own half of the world.
The blood dragon gave what little it had to its worshipers,
this made it hungry and unpleasant
many could have benefited under its ruler ship,
but it was cruel and cold and arbitrary.
The sky dragon spent its days guarding a great hoard
It traded with many of its worshipers
and demanded tribute from lesser gods
but it was indifferent to those who had nothing to spare.
Men trembled and feared for their children when they saw the dragon fires,as bright as the sun.
The dragons knew their own power
Each knew that a duel between them would reduce everything to ash and tears.
So they decided on a wager.
They would both race into the infinite space above the heavens
The one whose wings grew tired first would be proven weaker and would pay
tribute to the other.
and so the sky dragon and the blood dragon leaped
Their wings stretching from the far north to the south.
The winds created great turmoil
And the clouds parted.
They both flapped and struggled and roared as they soared towards the sun
Their snouts faced the firmament above
Their pure focus and power birthed storms never seen before
The sky dragon was powered by fear of loss of its great hoard
The blood dragon roared as it's great unfed muscles burned and strained
For days they flew above the world as all worshipers watched and hoped.
One night as the dragons flew closer to the moon.
The blood dragons wings grew tired.
And it slowly descended
The blood dragon fell to the ground,the ground shattered and it's body collapsed.
Its remains were devoured by demons
The sky dragon did not look down
It continued to fly until it reached the moon
It landed on the highest mountain and spread it's wings for the whole world to see and roared into the void.
Everything that lived beheld its victory,heralding a new age.
The age of the sky dragon. | They say he started as a prodigy, but was turned into an outcast. The jealous King Zar took notice of his talent and his charisma, and could not dare stand have any competitors! He arrested mightly Len, but found that even the harshest prison could not break Len's spirit. So the cruel despot exiled Len from his homeland; the Savior was forced to travel to the lesser nations, disguised as a vagrant. Weaker men would have abandoned their destiny, but the desire to bring freedom to his homeland burned in Len's chest like a roaring fire!
The King's evil ways caught up with him eventually, as with all despots. The other nations of the world grew to despise the King, and waged a brutal war on him. King Zar enslaved his people and sent them to the killing fields with neither armor nor weapon. He became so obsessed with his own power that he thought himself invincible, and that would prove to be his undoing. The huddled masses rose up against the evil king, and Len returned to his homeland as their champion! They say that he personally threw the King from his throne after a mighty struggle and cast him into prison, where the worst criminals of the Homeland exacted their ultimate revenge. The other nations rejoiced to see the King's fall and immediately made peace with Len's new nation.
Some men would be content with such victory and crown themselves the new king, but not Len. He gave power back to the people! He organized them into communities and crushed the King's remaining supporters. He shared the nation's wealth with all, ushering in an era of peace and prosperity. The other nations of the world soon grew jealous of Len; their own populations sought to replicate Len's success.
Having completed his life's work in restoring freedom to the homeland, Len rested. Like all mortals, he too must fall. But the Lord so loved Len that he preserved the great leader's body in a glass tomb, where all citizens could come see his magnificence and be inspired. Some say that he still remains under the city ruins, waiting for the day when his nation needs him to be free of another tyrannical ruler, and that his Hammer and Sickle banner will one day wave again over the Homeland!
All hail LEN, founder and savior of Ooser!
----
This story is a continuation of [this other story, in which a trader seeks to sell one of Len's relics](http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2ummmr/wp_12000_years_in_the_future_civilizations_fell/co9tnc9).
| 2015-03-12T11:56:56 | 2015-03-12T11:15:23 | 104 | 10 |
[WP] You are 70 years old, and see your granchildren playing with the newest electronic. It looks complicated, and when you ask to use it, you say "Where's the touchscreen?". | ”what's a touch screen?” The boy looked perplexed but was starting to get used to grandpa's senile ramblings.
” you know the part with the picture you touch to make it work” grandpa was confused, senile and wondering why the boy didn't know what a touch screen was. the boy looked at the calculator his father had given him. He was still getting used to the black and white display that would seemingly by magic show numbers when you pressed the buttons. The calculator was a gift for his birthday, his father found it scavenging in the ruins of Alanta.
” grandpa is a touch screen a thing they had before the bombs fell?” | In my day, touch screens were all the hype, some might even call them "the bees knees" so imagine my surprise when my kids came home with a block of plastic.
"Bobby, what's that there thingymiggiger" I ask looking at him shove a smaller plastic box into the top of the first block.
"Well dad, I found it in one of those time capsules" he responded
"But where's the touch screen"?
" You don't touch it dad, you just mash A and B".
"Is that a pikachu Bobby? Isn't that one of the 4000 pokemans?"
"Shut up dad I can't find my ziggerzapichupuffin. This game is dumb, wanna hop in a virtual reality and make them fight for real?"
As a tear rolls down my face I say "yes Bobby, and I've never loved you more". | 2015-05-21T07:05:09 | 2015-05-21T07:03:31 | 306 | 17 |
[WP] You are death row's last meal chef. Today's condemned prisoner killed your daughter. | I stare down the prisoner, the one who murdered my daughter. I have been thinking about moment for years. Should I take revenge on my daughter's murderer? This was my first instinct, but it wasn't what she would have wanted. I still haven't decided when his request comes in. Spaghetti with meatballs. It reminds me of the last meal my family had together. I prepare the meal in a daze. An hour later, I walk into the cell with the meal. I clear my throat and begin my speech. "You murdered my daughter and tore apart my family. My wife left me, and I haven't seen my son in 10 years. I wanted to hurt you, but my daughter was merciful, so I will extend that mercy to you. I want you to know that I forgive you." His eyes water. He says the four words that will be his last. "I love you Dad."
EDIT: words | Five years had passed since the great Cow Uprising had bucked the yoke of the oppressive humans. Most of the farmers and slaughterhouse owners had been rounded up and put to death ages ago, but Frank had managed to slip into the underworld- the system of tiny tunnels that ran under the human cities, too small for the cows to enter.
But now they had caught him - murderer of thousands upon thousands of innocent cows, not the least, Browning's daughter - this one was personal.
It was hard for Browning to cook, with the hooves and all, but he managed. He fulfilled Frank's last request: hamburger and fries. The meat, a pound of flesh, he had donated from the mass of his own body...it was surreal cooking your own body. But it would be worth it...because in less than 24 hours that farmer would be shoved into the arena. And there, in front of thousands of bleating sheep and mooing cows, Browning would take his time goring him to death.
He would be even.
"Enjoy your burger, Frank." Browning thought, "Soon, you will be ground meat." | 2015-07-04T10:09:30 | 2015-07-04T09:48:47 | 514 | 131 |
[WP] You are death row's last meal chef. Today's condemned prisoner killed your daughter. | I stare down the prisoner, the one who murdered my daughter. I have been thinking about moment for years. Should I take revenge on my daughter's murderer? This was my first instinct, but it wasn't what she would have wanted. I still haven't decided when his request comes in. Spaghetti with meatballs. It reminds me of the last meal my family had together. I prepare the meal in a daze. An hour later, I walk into the cell with the meal. I clear my throat and begin my speech. "You murdered my daughter and tore apart my family. My wife left me, and I haven't seen my son in 10 years. I wanted to hurt you, but my daughter was merciful, so I will extend that mercy to you. I want you to know that I forgive you." His eyes water. He says the four words that will be his last. "I love you Dad."
EDIT: words | I had always lied to myself, saying that I was a "Christian", but harboring my anger and revenge for years had not been easy. I gave up my extremely successful career as touring musician and sit-com part actor to study culinary arts with a degree in institutional food direction because I knew a friend who would "shoo-in" me to this particular job, because he knew that I wanted revenge.
I had been cautioned, because since many on death row often died there, that I may never get my chance at revenge.
I spent years collecting and studying poisons that would create a quick-acting, but long-lasting and painful poisoning before my intended victim would die. I tried to find any substances or medications that could cause complications when the known "death cocktail" was going through his veins.
My wife saw what I was doing and pleaded with me, "Don't waste another fifteen years of your.... OUR lives... doing this. Eventually she left me.
A few weeks ago the execution was announced, and will be tomorrow. I have just prepared, and consumed all the poisons I had myself after reading the "final meal request".
A bucket of KFC and a Big Mac, no special sauce. | 2015-07-04T10:09:30 | 2015-07-04T09:57:07 | 514 | 18 |
[WP] Write two small stories with the exact same words in the same order, but with punctuation giving them completely different meanings.
[deleted] | I watched you dance in the rain. It was beautiful. You smiled, I smiled back. Then there was joy. And now, you are still beautiful like a flower.
I watched you dance. In the rain it was beautiful. You smiled. I smiled. Back then there was joy. And now, you are still. Beautiful like a flower. | My morning toast is ready, red and full of pockmarks. Mom lays on the couch. "When did it fall?" I wonder, looking at the old family picture face down on the floorboards. Dad wouldn't have liked all this mess. Time to do some house cleaning!
&nbsp;
&nbsp;
My morning toast is ready.
Red and full of pockmarks, mom lays on the couch.
"When did it fall"? I wonder.
Looking at the old family picture.
Face down, on the floorboards: Dad.
Wouldn't have liked all this mess.
Time to do some house cleaning. | 2015-09-23T10:42:41 | 2015-09-23T08:50:09 | 630 | 31 |
[WP] Write two small stories with the exact same words in the same order, but with punctuation giving them completely different meanings.
[deleted] | Set Free:
And at the last second I saw her stepping onto the train. I realized I would never see her again. Powerless, I watched her fade.
And at the last second I saw her. Stepping onto the train I realized I would never see her again. Powerless, I watched her fade.
| My morning toast is ready, red and full of pockmarks. Mom lays on the couch. "When did it fall?" I wonder, looking at the old family picture face down on the floorboards. Dad wouldn't have liked all this mess. Time to do some house cleaning!
&nbsp;
&nbsp;
My morning toast is ready.
Red and full of pockmarks, mom lays on the couch.
"When did it fall"? I wonder.
Looking at the old family picture.
Face down, on the floorboards: Dad.
Wouldn't have liked all this mess.
Time to do some house cleaning. | 2015-09-23T10:11:20 | 2015-09-23T08:50:09 | 361 | 31 |
[WP] Write two small stories with the exact same words in the same order, but with punctuation giving them completely different meanings.
[deleted] | Hope:
My life isn't worth living without Hope. I decided to end it all between us two. I'm not happy it ended this way.
My life isn’t worth living. Without hope I decided to end it all. Between us two, I'm not happy it ended this way. | My morning toast is ready, red and full of pockmarks. Mom lays on the couch. "When did it fall?" I wonder, looking at the old family picture face down on the floorboards. Dad wouldn't have liked all this mess. Time to do some house cleaning!
&nbsp;
&nbsp;
My morning toast is ready.
Red and full of pockmarks, mom lays on the couch.
"When did it fall"? I wonder.
Looking at the old family picture.
Face down, on the floorboards: Dad.
Wouldn't have liked all this mess.
Time to do some house cleaning. | 2015-09-23T13:54:01 | 2015-09-23T08:50:09 | 91 | 31 |
[WP] Write two small stories with the exact same words in the same order, but with punctuation giving them completely different meanings.
[deleted] | Hope:
My life isn't worth living without Hope. I decided to end it all between us two. I'm not happy it ended this way.
My life isn’t worth living. Without hope I decided to end it all. Between us two, I'm not happy it ended this way. | The moment I left, or the only moment left:
-“Stay close.” Your eyes: hope.
-“No, I have to go away.”
-“Don't leave me alone.” Now fear.
-Love, it makes everything... Better go now.
-"Stay. Close your eyes, Hope."
-"No!"
-"I have to."
-"Go away! Don't! Leave me alone now!"
-"Fear... Love it. Makes everything better. Go now..."
| 2015-09-23T13:54:01 | 2015-09-23T10:05:10 | 91 | 18 |
[WP] Write a pirate story for my three year old son. With a witch in it somewhere. He says there has to be a witch in it.
My son is going through a pirate phase. Every night he asks for a pirate and witch story. I'm running out of variations on the theme. | "Arr" said Blackbeard
"Arr" said Long Johns silver, wearing a pair of long johns that were sort of a purple colour.
"Arr" said Private Pirate Name
"I'm sorry is it… rrrrrrrrrr" said Bob, because he was new.
"No Bob, it be Arrrrr" said Blackbeard
"Rrrrrrrr" said Bob
Blackbeard sighed "We'll work on it Bob"
"Land ahead" said Patchy, the two eye patch pirate from the crows nest.
"Why do we have a pirate with two eye patches on lookout?" said Bob
"Arr he be the best there is" said Blackbeard
"And look, there be the land" said Long Johns silver, pointing to the island that was two feet in front of them.
"Man stations" yelled Blackbeard "Long Johns, the sails, Private Pirate Name, the cannons, Patchy the two eye patch pirate, keep up the good work, Bob, get me a drink with one of those small umbrellas"
But because Blackbeard was too long winded the pirate ship ran aground.
"Arr, this not be good" said Blackbeard
"Arr, I concur" said Long John Silver
"Arr I also concur" said Private Pirate name
"I also concurrrrrr" said Bob, holding out the drink with the tiny umbrella in it
"It's be good effort Bob, but we still be having to have to work on it" said Blackbeard, taking the offered drink with the tiny umbrella.
"How are we going to get our ship lose?" said Long Johns
"Maybe we can ask them" said Private Pirate Name, turning to the screen
"Arr, it not be that kind of story" said Blackbeard
"Wait, look at this" said Patchy the two eye patch pirate, with an eye patch over both eyes.
He was pointing at a sign that said "Beware of Witch" and below it on another sign "Her specialty is freeing pirate ships from the beach" and below that there was another sign that said "But seriously beware of Witch"
"Well boys we have our answer" said Blackbeard
"Arr" said Long Johns
"Arr" said Private Pirate Name
"Arr" said patchy the two eye patch pirate
Bob opened his mouth to speak.
"Bob you stay with the ship" said Blackbeard
"Oh, ok" said Bob
And so the pirates made it through the forest. They cut through the enchanted vines, swam under the cave of 'it's really far so you have to be good at holding your breath' and beat the cyclops at a game of checkers.
They arrived at the witches lair and went inside, where the Witch was making a magic potion.
"Arr, good witch" said Blackbeard
"Ha, I'm a bad witch" said the bad witch
She shot a magic blast at them and they all jumped out of the way. Blackbeard fired his pistol at her, while Long Johns and Private Pirate name charged her with cutlasses drawn. Patchy the two eye patch pirate ran into a wall because the blast had knocked his eye patches off and he couldn't see as well without them.
But nothing hurt the witch.
"Arr, nothing can hurt the witch" said Blackbeard
"Arr" came a voice from over head
They looked up to see Bob standing over a hole in the ceiling.
"Hey, you broke my roof" said the witch
"Arr" said Bob again
"You did it Bob" said Blackbeard "You said Arr"
"Arr" said Bob again as he jumped through the hole and fell straight to the ground across the room from the witch.
They all stared at Bob who said "uhhhhhhhhhh".
The witch turned to the pirates "And now I'll cast my most powerful spell and…is that a drink with a tiny umbrella in it?"
"Yes" said Blackbeard, who still had the drink with the tiny umbrella in it
"Can I have it?" said the witch
"The drink or the umbrella" said Blackbeard
"The umbrella" said the witch
"But that's my favourite part" said Blackbeard
"I'll unbeach your ship"
"How did you know our ship was beached?" said Long Johns
"No one ever visits me unless their ship gets beached. That's why I'm so mean"
"Well what do you say Blackbeard?" said Private Pirate name
"Arr, fine" said Blackbeard
And so they carried Bob back to the beach, where the witch un-beached their ship and after promising to visit they sailed off to their next adventure.
| And so once again Cap'n Crunch was sailing across the Ocean of Soy, looking for more fruit loops to plunder. There were unfortunately no fruit loops to see but Cap'n Crunch saw something even more valuable. A rare Coco Pop, it was believed the Coco Pops were long since gone from the Ocean of Soy, scooped up by the almighty power above. Cap'n Crunch neared the Coco Pop, licking his lips in anticipation, after all the Coco Pops did say they, "Taste like a chocolate milkshake, only crunchy."
Crunch boarded the Coco Pop, which was silent and scary, he thought it was a trap. But Crunch never backed down from treasure and so he walked aboard this Coco Pop, no sign of any crew members aboard. But the steering wheel turned, it turned by itself, scaring the oats out of Crunch. Never the less Crunch continued he walked into the captain's quarters of the Coco Pop. But the sight there was like none he had ever seen, a chocolate witch stood there controlling the ship with her mind. "Hahahah, so you found me Crunch? Don't worry I won't harm you, I search for the fabled Special K." "Impossible!" Crunch cried in shock, "It's just a legend, no one has ever been able to find the mythical Special K!" "I will Crunch, I will wield legendary powers, but sadly Crunch, you won't be here to see it!" The witch responded, cackling insanely. (Edit:) Chocolate erupted from the witch's hands, sending Cap'n Crunch flying through his nutritious boat. Cap'n's crew responded by firing 63 dried raisins at the Coco Pop, the raisins, dry and unsatisfying, ripped holes through the witch's boat. Before the crew could continue the barrage the Coco Pop disappeared into thin air.
Cap'n Crunch was hastily rescued by his crew but the ships was gaining soy milk and would sick without immediate attention. Unfortunately for Cap'n Crunch he was in the middle of Soy Ocean, an area with few cities capable of repairing a large ship like his. So he consulted his treasure map made by the Lucky Charms and saw one city to visit. A sad and neglected city, it was a vile land filled with things that were neither, wheat, corn or oat. It was a land filled with *fruit*.
Just Right city was in sight, the sultanas and almonds filled Crunch with despair, his crew was moaning at their misfortune. "No worries crew! We shall only be here for a short while!" Crew said inspiringly to his crew, all the while praying to the almighty spoon above. They docked the ship without much trouble, besides the crowd gathering on the dock. "It seems they don't get many visitors," Crunch whispered to his first mate, Jim, "Aye, but maybe this can be used to our advantage." Jim replied. Suddenly a clumsy bureaucrat blundered through the crowd, "Identify yourself Captain!" He shouted. "I am the fierce Cap'n Crunch, mightiest oat in all the 7 milks! Follow my demands and you shall be left unharmed!" Crunch ordered the bureaucrat, using the official's fear to his advantage.
Crunch's ship was hastily being fixed and resupplied with more raisins and sugar for the cannons. The uneducated grapes and almonds of the lower class near the dock inquired how the cannons worked. An agitated crewman replied, "We ignite the sugar, which in turn makes the raisins fly into enemy ships." This answer seemed to please the people and allowed the crewman to go about his job. Within hours the boat was fully repaired and Crunch was ready to set sail. But misfortune plagued the Cap'n on this day, apparently the Queen of Just Right city was the last to hear about the pirate's visit and was furious the nobles and parliament had so quickly caved to help the 'savages'. So she had sent her castle's entire garrison to storm the ship and capture Cap'n Crunch. The men had arrived too late, Crunch's ship had already set sail but they quickly clambered into the queen's personal ships, the Sultana Almond and the Oat Wheat. They were small ships, agile and easily maneuverable but unable to go too far out to sea as the people of Just Right never had a need to leave the island city.
The twin ships quickly gained on Crunch and the Cap'n knew he would not be able to escape them so he turned around and fired all 63 cannons, fully loaded with raisins at the two ships. The raisins ripped through the ships' sails, crippling them. This allowed Crunch's ship to escape, leaving the two ships to head back to Just Right city, in shame and with their tails between their legs. "Where to next Cap'n?" Jim inquired and Crunch responded solemnly, "The Cursed Isles of Chocolate Milk Sea! We **will** find the chocolate witch and retrieve the Special k of legend!" That was of course until they were attacked by the Malicious Boo-Berry. | 2015-11-22T06:00:51 | 2015-11-22T05:38:29 | 117 | 26 |
[WP] Among Alien species humans are famous for prefering pacifism but being the most dangerous species when they are forced to fight.
EDIT:WOW THIS EXPLODED GUYS MY FIRST MAJOR PROMPT. | The Terran Federation. A force that now spans several thousand solar systems within the galaxy with several species under its wing. We believed they were possibly as advanced as the Galactic Alliance; yet we only recently discovered them by accident when we entered one of their border systems. They seemed less wary and more excited to learn of another power in the galaxy that was similar to their own.
They quickly sought a sit down with our council members. As talks began, it was clear they were seeking peace and to trade information and technology. As hesitant as the different species of the council were, they eventually gave in. The technology we shared was not much different. Their information on the other hand, especially their history, was astonishing. According to their records, their species only began to exist when the first to council species had formed the Galactic Alliance. They were nothing more than savages for the better part of ten thousand years before their technology and population skyrocketed. They humans now number somewhere near 5 trillion. A frightening number considering every species in the Galactic Alliance is totals to roughly 7 trillion. We also learned that every species in the Terran Federation, many of which are highly skilled, accepted the humans as their leaders. But it was clear none of them were subjugated, they simply accepted human leadership.
Our council members are now in talks of trying to bring the humans on as members of the Alliance, and possibly even as a part of the council itself, but only time will tell.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
It has been five years since we discovered the Terran Federation. They accepted becoming a part of the Galactic Alliance, but wanted to act as a separate power given that their technology and controlled space is nearly on par with our own. There have been no conflicts with the Federation, but there is something about them that unsettles me and most of the other species in the alliance. Most peace-seeking species will be hesitant and try to avoid any unnecessary arguments with other species and are quick to compromise. The humans, while willing to compromise, are very headstrong in their ideals, making you feel as if you are sitting down with a military driven government.
As far as I can tell, they have never fought a galactic-wide war. They only have brief mentions in their history of "misunderstandings" with other species. From what I can tell, they left those species alone while others joined the federation. I find it incredible that over twenty species have been brought in with the humans, yet they've never seen war beyond their home planet. I fear however if their ideas of feelings for each other get in the way of the council, in-fighting could possibly begin between our two factions.
_______________________________________________________________________________________
It has been nearly a century now since the humans became a part of our lives. Even though many of the original Alliance species have barely aged most of the humans that were originally brought into the Alliance have since passed. But in this last decade, the council has discovered the frightening secrets of the human race. Their population has already surpassed that of the rest of the Alliance and their technology is growing at an alarming rate. After a dispute within the council about limitations on the humans, a massive civil war broke out in the Alliance. The two opposing factions sought the Terran Federation's help as it would easily decide the outcome of the war. Our faction didn't believe in limiting a species that could help advance everyone, while the other wanted to limit the humans so nobody felt threatened in order to keep the peace. However, the humans continued to be a mediator between the two sides. In a fit of rage, one of the opposing faction's leaders killed the human leader for his indecisiveness and had his troops torch the nearest human colony.
Humans took this as an act of war and this is when our eyes were truly opened.
It was obvious now that war was second nature to humans. They began by pushing the enemies back, hurling their impressive numbers at the enemies; their own losses fueling their rage and making them even more damning. I happened to accompany the humans on their campaign. They had battlecruisers the size of the galactic capital with weapons that could penetrate ships' shields and destroy them in one blow. As the humans' losses had neared 500 billion, which were due to trying to protect the other Alliance races, the three trillion of all the species on the opposing faction were reduced to roughly two trillion which were now located in roughly fifteen large star systems.
The humans gave one final ultimatum to the enemy; surrender or be completely eradicated. The enemy knew they would probably lose, but chose to fight. That's when the humans unleashed it. A weapon they called the "Black Death," a reference to a disease which had eradicated large portions of the humans when they were still primitive. And then it happened. Streaks of light fired with FTL drives at each of the fifteen star systems. Black holes opened up in each system, engulfing the entirety of each. And then, they collapsed on themselves as if nothing had happened. The civil war was over in an instant, and no proof of those species existed besides what was only in our history.
And then it hit me. The "misunderstandings" that they spoke of in their history were nothing of the sort. They were mass genocides of the hostile species that were threats to the human race. The humans so quickly and confidently eradicated their enemies that it wasn't even worth mentioning in their history books. But now, they had losses of their own. And on a level they had never seen before. The Galactic Alliance soon realized we only had one option; follow the humans or there could be irreparable tension between us. And like that, the Galactic Alliance was no more. As long as we were not a threat to humans, we could do as we please in the name of the Terran Federation.
To the humans, we were just more of the numerous species under their protective wings. And to us... the humans, even though they sought peace, were something terrifying. Not monsters, yet not heroes. *They were a silent guardian, a watchful protector, a Dark Knight.* | The Humans were sort of a 'middle-of-the-pack' species as far as technology goes, their AI's were mediocre, interstellar space flight basic, and weapon capabilities abysmal, they were deemed a class 5-E species by the Hierarchy's research teams, 5 being their current technological standing, and E being their likelihood of aggression (very low). However, the research teams did find one thing interesting, and even a little frightening to those that understood, it seemed the Human's rate of technological advancement was the highest out of any known species, including the Turyp themselves, who have led the Hierarchy for 9000 standard years. Some on the council believed that to be no surprise, considering a class 1 species has a lot less room to advance than a class 5 species does, and that is more or less true, but extrapolating the Turyp's technological advancement back to when they themselves were a class 5 species (though they had a B at the end of their 5), they found that the humans were advancing at almost twice the rate they were. Unsettling news for the council indeed. Further, and more intimate research would need to be done.
Though not aggressive, the Humans were a private species, preferring to stay out of the political landscape and *in* their own territory, only ever venturing out to trade, and usually with only two other species at that, the Senc and the Hiratii. Needless to say, the council's research was frustratingly slow. The only thing they found out was that the Humans mostly traded for medical supplies, which the council found odd, considering they were a passive species and were not currently dealing with large scale disease or internal conflict. After much debate, they decided a spy of sorts would need to be commissioned to gain any further useful data on the Humans. Something which the council didn't like to do, but at the same time an act which presented no real risk to the Hierarchy. With the Humans being a class 5 species, they were utterly incapable of retaliation. In fact, the risk of not knowing the Human's reason for such a sharp technological advance greatly outweighed the risk of their animosity.
The spy was sent, just one, a member of the Hiratii species, Kiri her name, deemed capable of long term espionage by the council and the standing military general. She was actually a doctor on the her home planet, and had an extensive understanding of countless species anatomies and medical intricacies. She was made to spend two full standard years on the Tyrup homeworld studying the Human's specific medicinal needs and how to treat any known ailment the Humans had. This was more of an educated guess as to how to get the information the council needed out of the Humans. They apparently were hoarding medical supplies for decades, making Kiri the prime choice for infiltrating the core of whatever the Humans were doing. The hope was that they would find an important use for Kiri's capabilities, and luckily for the Hierarchy, they did. Kiri spent the majority of five standard years on the Human homeworld, the first two largely spent earning their trust and proving her capabilities, but the last three... the last three were spent at the core of Humanity's medical conquests.
Kiri now stood in front of the council, looking as if she had aged far more than the five standard years since the council last saw her, but her eyes spoke more than her haggard appearance, an unsettling, slow, shallow vibration was perceivable even from the podium where she stood. The council waited eagerly for her report -- they had almost no contact with her for her entire deployment, as even class 5 species had extremely advanced forms of data transmission and detection. She stood for a moment, staring down at her orange-grey Hierarchy uniform, finding it odd not to be wearing the Human's thin white medical garb that she wore for the majority of the last four years. She raised her head with a piercing look in her eyes, aimed right at the head of the council, but individually turning her gaze to each of the thirteen members before speaking. "They are genetically modifying the DNA of approximately 90% of their newborns, of which 73% survive, and physically augmenting 90% of the survivors, of which 50% survive." She stared blankly and with no emotion, running through her head was every stillborn baby born with it's skin inside out that she had helped give birth to, or every screaming child with an overgrown bone structure that caused intense and excruciation pain every waking hour of their lives, children who she had to continue research on, and continue to inject with a myriad of chemicals designed to propel humanity into a new age of knowledge and understanding.
Most of the members had actually been quite excited to hear what the Human's "great mystery" was, and had spent the previous two weeks giddily discussing it amongst themselves and placing friendly bets on what they believed the reason to be, but now they sat in a cold silence, half of them contemplating the statistics of what she just said, and the other half unable to focus on anything but her dead eyes looking back at them, almost as if she was the embodiment of the cold silence they now sat in. "The Humans that survive their processes, which last from 2 months-13 years of age --varying in intensity throughout--, are extremely adept in both mental and physical capabilities. Far beyond even those of the Turyp in both areas. It is these capabilities that have been increasing the Human's rate of advancement so quickly over the past 100 years. A lack of moral values and a deadly efficiency. Each generation, the methods and chemicals used are improved upon. At the Human's current rate, they will be a class 1 species in one thousand years, not the five thousand years that was previously projected." Another long silence, no one wanting to be the first to draw attention to their insecurities regarding this matter. A class 5 species making a class 1 species nervous is/was preposterous up until now, but nevertheless was the truth. "A thousand years.." the head council-member finally muttered. Obviously more concerned with the Human's technological advance than the atrocities they were committing. "In your educated opinion, Kiri, what is the best course of action?"
"Exterminate them." | 2016-03-13T21:56:17 | 2016-03-13T19:19:26 | 68 | 46 |
[WP] Among Alien species humans are famous for prefering pacifism but being the most dangerous species when they are forced to fight.
EDIT:WOW THIS EXPLODED GUYS MY FIRST MAJOR PROMPT. | "And who are these fighters you talk about, fool? There are no more fighter species throughout the entire galaxy.".
"Humans, they call themselves" Toomil said. They sat quietly in the council, giving each other questioning looks before bursting into laughter.
"Humans? What a ridiculous name for so called fighters!" Brianda, the head of council blurted.
Toomil knew it was not his place to question the councils judgement, but he feared that tragedy would be near if he didn't.
"My nadime, I beg you to listen to my research about the human species. I have done my absolute best examine their strengths and weaknesses. We have even sent one of our own, my kin buundil, disguised as one of them."
"I hope you are not waisting the council's time with some report about another one of your special pet species, Toomil!"
"No, I swear on my life and that of our lord and savior Xcruta!"
"Well then begin.."
"The human truly is a force of nature. They come in 2 genders. Male and female. The Males are very dangerous. On average they stand 180cms tall and weigh about 80kg. Some individuals even grow to be 215cms tall and weigh up to 160kg. The men of this caliber are known as a "Shaq".This is double our size and weight. Not only is the human extremely smart and capable of building and using the most complex tools but they are also extremely powerful. On some accounts humans have been known to lift up to 1000kgs to save another of their species. One thing I find very odd about humans is the connections they share with another. According to Buundil, they call it love, and every human desires it. It is a deep connection between a male and a female and it is meant to initiate reproduction. But nowadays love is the connection they share to every other human they enjoy spending their time with. When threatened they have been known to exceed their natural limitations. On several accounts mothers would lift twice their natural limit to secure their infants life. Humans are now known to be the most peaceful civilization in the galaxy despite living on this tiny, dirty planet. They tend to be lovely towards each other nowadays but do not be fooled. The human has perfected the ways of war and violence and will use it without hesitation if threatened."
"So Toomil, you think this species can stop our plans of turning the entire universe into agriculture planets? Hahaha you fool" the council proceeds to laugh and give each other amused looks."
Toomil stands tall and says : "I believe if the human race wanted us dead, they could do so with ease, but that is why I have created a monster. A monster so heinous, hatable and cruel that it will ruin their world peace."
Brianda and the rest of the council look up in awe as the monster is guided into the council room. Shackled by the neck, ankles and wrists.
"Oh my, Toomil. It is magnificent." The rooms starts to fill with chatter and gasps of positive disbelief."look at those beautiful tiny hands!", "oh, that hair, it is wonderful!" Were said more than once.
"Toomil, what can your creation do? Will it tear them all apart? And are you sure it won't be identified as one of our species? It looks exactly like me, Brianda, King of the xilares!"
"No, head of council, sadly it is not strong enough to be a winning fighter on earth. But it will terrorize their governments and societies!"
"Does it have a conscience? Can it talk yet?"
"Indeed it has. And talking is one of it's specialties."
"Then talk, my beautiful creature. Tell me, what will you tell the humans when they ask where you came from."
"It has not been easy for me. I started off in Brooklyn. My father gave me a small loan of a million dollars..
| "Fucking humans are at it again." Said Prok as he dipped his proboscis into the fetus slaw before him.
"I see that." Replied Ghyd, his half wife. She shifted her earlobe and toenail salad listlessly. One of the earlobes still had a diamond earring in it. "Waiter! Someone in your kitchen isn't properly dejewelrying the human bits. I could have chipped a fang on this diamond!"
"So sorry mam, we are breaking in a new shipment of human laborers and they aren't catching on obviously." He said as he quickly whisked the earring from Ghyds hand and tossed it in the garbage on his way to the kitchen.
As she stared at the same view screen Prok was regarding Ghyds remarked, "Why is it that one factory farm of humans can be so docile and mellow and another can erupt into a full blown revolt like the one on Tellos 5? They have taken over the whole moon!"
"It all has to do with the genes I say. Too much Irish blood on Tellos 5, but I suppose that's the risk you run for the delectable pale skin and red haired variety of human. If only they could find some way to breed out the truculent, but keep the succulent. Eh but I suppose you can't have one without the other." Said Drujol, the gestation spouse. Her stuffed scrotums having long since been devoured to the last eyelidos s/he gazed in envy at colon burger being delivered by a passing waiter. The eyelidos weren't made from real eyelids, but they were still tasty.
"No no." Said Prok. "It's those damned humanitarians. They infiltrate the factory farm moons and contaminate the euphorics and the aphrodisiacs that must be supplemented into human feed. Without all the sex and the drugs humans become self aware."
All around them in the restaurant dishes clattered and chatter stopped. He said that much too loudly.
"Prok don't be silly. Humans can never be self aware. You know perfectly well those supplements are added just to make the humans feel more comfortable and even if they were self aware what do they have to be unhappy about? The factory farms perfectly replicate their natural habitat back on Earth. Cities, roads, cubicles, pornography, fast food, reality TV, everything is as they made for themselves in their natural environment. They live the good part of a normal human lifecycle and after about 30 years they are harvested and spared the horrors of old age or if they have been cooperative they are given the honor of serving elsewhere in the empire among their Novcclid overlords. I mean we aren't savages. Only free range humans of course." Vocalized Ghyd and Drujol in unison, as was their custom after a brief mental conference.
"Of course of course. I never meant... Just that this humanitarian movement is causing a lot of trouble."
No one could deny that. One after another factory farm moons had risen in revolt against their operators. There were even reports of the livestock having learned to operate the jump gates and the orbital shuttles, though that beggared belief.
*"This just in"* declared news bot5000 on the view screen *"we have just received a video from Tellos 5. Warning, this may be unsuitable for larvae under 300 years old."*
The screen switched to a wide angle shot obviously from a hand held communicator. The scene was of a wild mob of feral humans chanting and swirling around a podium that was once a water tower used to keep the livestock hydrated. Atop the tower were seven or eight Novcclids, obviously basking in the adoration of their new mob of wild humans.
As the camera zoomed into the lead Novcclid Prok, Ghyd and Drujol all were struck dumb. All thirteen of their eyes were wide and tentacles taught as bow strings.
The lead Novcclid was Frijik, their only saughter to survive to adulthood out of a clutch of 13000 spawned.
"Oh shit." The trio said, without any mental conference necessary. | 2016-03-13T18:04:19 | 2016-03-13T16:09:35 | 64 | 21 |
[WP] Among Alien species humans are famous for prefering pacifism but being the most dangerous species when they are forced to fight.
EDIT:WOW THIS EXPLODED GUYS MY FIRST MAJOR PROMPT. | "Well Fifth , we have a hard time figuring these guys out ."
Fifth swivels its primary sensory orifices to face Thirty Second "What is so difficult about them that I had to be brought out of stasis?".
"Well they are a primitive species , and we can tell by their transmissions that they seem to want a peaceful meeting." Fifth interrupts "A species capable a generating gravity waves is hardly primitive."
"Well Fifth , thats the thing , they aren't transmitting with gravity waves."
"Then how are we ...."
"They are beaming modulated radio waves at us ...fortunately the shielding held up and we suffered only minor damage."
"They attacked us?"
"Uh no....it seems that they consider radio waves to be harmless....so when we realized that that the pulses were modulated we hooked the modulation decoder to the shielding alarm and presto ... we could hear what they were saying ,they have a simple communication matrix , it only took the translator analogues a few moments to decipher.
"So how are we talking to them if they cant detect gravity waves?"
"I modified our main gun to modulate its frequency the same way and fired it a full power at their capital."
"Oh dear Goddess ...how did they respond?"
"They asked us to turn up the power......."
"... Thats a class seven weapon and they asked to be hit harder?"
"They wanted to know if their signal was strong enough to be heard clearly, I told them under no circumstances were they to increase power....they are already transmitting at a class 9 level, only thing that saved us is that it has a wide spread."
Fifths superior cognitive skills immediately realized that if radio transmitter was used as a communication system a wide spread would be a good thing.
"I see why you woke me....a species immune to radio waves is quite disturbing."
"Thats not why I asked for you , we've been communicating long enough to learn some more and the latest communication .....it scares the goddess out of me."
"What was it"
"We asked them how they were able to survive on a planet with a strong magnetic field......"
"How strong is it ?"
"Approximately 2,000 times higher than a class 20 magnetic bomb."
"Thats....incredible, so how do they do it"
"They didnt understand the question."
Once again Fifths cognitive skills reached the obvious conclusion , Thirty Second hadn't asked for him to decipher the situation ... Thirty Second just needed someone with enough authority to cancel the mission.
"Engage cloak and lets get the hell out of here."
No wonder the last 5 missions to this system failed to return....blown to fine dust by the aliens "communication systems'.
And then ....Fifth had an revelation.
"Thirty Second, have we ever discovered life in an iron rich system before?"
"No Fifth , we havent , I guess this ones going in the history scrolls."
"Thirty Second, you are to erase all record of this mission and bring First , Second and Third out of stasis."
Thirty Second was taken aback, the idea of waking the Goddess herself for a mission that was to be forgotten ?!
And then with a sly smug vibration along his crest Fifth told Thirty Second why.
"They are primitive , that means we have things they desperately need."
"So?"
"These Humans can shorten the war by a thousand years."
| Jak'tur stood on the command bridge of the galaxy's most massive Dreadnought, The Bastion. His suction-cupped hands continued to subconsciously wipe at his scaled combat suit, and his black, bulged eyes continued to scan the screens around him for any activity. The entire crew was on high alert, for they had just trespassed into human space. Though humans had not contributed to any major, or minor, galactic conflicts in the past millennium, they still struck fear into the hearts of all the species of the "Milky Way," as humans were fond of calling the galaxy.
"Admiral," his second called out, "we are approaching the rendezvous point but have not received any pings from fleet main."
"Do not ping, we might alert the humans." Jak'tur was to meet the main battle fleet of the Coalition of Independent Races a half light year from Sol 13, but had not been contacted even though he had just dropped out of jump. Something like this had been attempted before on the Human Home system, but had been met with fierce, unending resistance. The old Galactic Imperium had finally taken notice of the humans, and invaded the Sol system as well as launched minor offensives against their colonies.
The main Imperium fleet jumped into orbit around Earth and began its invasion. Before long though, the Imperium was on the run from the might of the Human military. Envoy's were sent, but the Human's would not abate until the Emperor's head was sent rolling.
And now, Jak'tur was to lead another assault upon the humans for his leaders had seen them to be weak. It was true that they did not possess a fleet such to rival the Coalition's in size, but Jak'tur knew that would not help them now.
"Admiral, radar is picking up faint signals of the fleet just on the other side of the planet."
"Bring the screen up and decrease engine power to half. Divert all remaining power to shields. Keep weapons at one quarter." Jak'tur knew what was about to happen.
The holoscreen came up just as soon a Jak'tur sat down in his command chair and showed utter carnage. The entire battle fleet lay in shatters as if stricken with some sort of great hammer. The Delphius, pride of the Corcians, was blasted in half and still spewing the fur covered, bipedal Corcians out.
"Take all power out of weapons, launch drones and power up the Jump Drive."
"Admiral Jak'tur," a familiar human face appeared on the screen. It was Admiral Cintal, a young man of immense tactical genius tasked with the safeguarding of Earth and Mars. In person, he was only about six feet tall, much shorter than the average Jintiil, but he had eyes that could pierce your mind. "Your people have come to my home, and risked open war with my people. We humans have done our best to remain peaceable and kind, but it seems that we must show our military might once more. This is Admiral Cintal to Sol Fleet Prime, you have my clearance to disengage cloak end open fire on The Bastion."
The transmission ended and Jak'tur readied himself for death. The radar lit up with a thousand red dots and death came swiftly to The Bastion. Meanwhile, a Human Battle fleet had assaulted the Coalition shipyards and destroyed the Secondary Battle Fleet that had been dispatched to cut off trade with the Florids. The Humans had once again proven their military might and silenced the voices of their foes. | 2016-03-13T19:37:26 | 2016-03-13T18:23:49 | 59 | 18 |
[WP] At birth every one gets a number assigned to them which determines their threat to humanity. You are number 1,039,474,023. Your newlyborn son is born. His number is 1. This number has never been seen before in all of history. | Society has changed a lot in the past 20 years... and not for the better. There has been so much widespread panic over security and terrorism, that we have abandoned our freedoms.
After the mapping of the neural pathways was successfully completed, a program called Destiny (not the game) soon followed. Destiny is a brain scan that plays out every possible event and outcome in your life, and averages all of the possibilities to generate a threat level. What this means is that, even if in .01% of outcomes you become a crazed murderer, your average will still be good.
Personally, my number registered somewhere around 1 billion, and my wife Karen is in the 3.2 billion range, so we're both considered *safe*. Anyone under 200 million is subject to near constant surveilance.
After about 3 years of happy marriage, Karen and I were about to have our first kid. The birth was normal, but nothing I want to get into detail about. The only thing we had to do was wait for the scans and tests to come back, and we would be all set to see our baby. Personally, I was more nervous than excited, but the looks of joy on my wife's face made it worth it for me.
"Honey, the test results are here" I said, as the doctor walked back in holding a clipboard. The look on his face was what got me. It didn't show anything was wrong, but something about it looked... *confused?*
I asked the doctor if something was wrong, and he looked at me with sad eyes, and said "I'm sorry. Your son is dead"
I was shocked at the news. When he was born he was healthy, appeared healthy, and had no problems... so how could he be dead?
The doctor looked at my wife and I apologetically, but then broke down crying. He thrust the clipboard towards us, where the average threat level displayed a #1, followed by the message "terminate immediately".
I handled the loss pretty well, but my poor wife couldn’t deal with it. For months after his death she would just stare blankly at the wall. Every so often she’d go out to bars and drink her sorrows away or go grocery shopping. It seemed like today was one of those days.
I sat down on my sofa and turned on the news. The major breaking story today was of a terrorist attack at the nearby hospital. The whole building was burned to the ground after an apparently violent shooting. At least 250 dead, over 2000 with minor wounds and many more in critical condition. Yeesh... that sounds horrible. As I was watching the news I heard the sound of keys turning, and Karen walked into the house. "Hey honey, have you seen the news? The hospital was burned to the ground in a terrorist attack." I told her.
She replied saying she hadn’t seen it and quickly went back to putting away the groceries.
On her shoulder there lay a single piece of ash.
| This was it. This was the end. One more person. I only had to kill one more person.
“This is the end, Director! This is the end of your flawed system! After this, parents won’t have to worry about what silly number you and your ilk assign to their babies! After this, children won’t have to live with the stigma of a low number! Men will be judged for what they do, instead of being prejudged for what they could do!”
I harden my resolve as I prepare to take this man’s life. I would’ve thought I’d be used to it by now; god knows how many people I’ve killed to get here, but it never got any easier.
“You did all this for your son, Mr. Jones? You faced impossible odds and came out the other end virtually unscathed just to protect your son?” the Director queried with an unsettling calmness, as if he wasn’t staring down the barrel of a gun.
My son. My newborn son who was assigned a threat level of one. There was no precedent for the potential destruction a number one could bring. At best, he’d be a pariah. People would view him as a monster. At worst, he’d be executed. They would execute a baby over a number… They would execute *my* baby!
“Of course I’m doing this for him!” I yelled. “I won’t let you bastards ruin his life, or worse, take it away, over some stupid number that might not even mean anything!”
I felt myself growing angrier.
“My son *is not* dangerous. My son *will not* become a monster. My wife and I will make sure of it. We’ll play with him all the time… We’ll teach him good manners, and what’s right and what’s wrong… We’ll love him! And our love will be enough to make sure he never wants to bring harm to anyone!”
I could feel tears stream down my face. Whether from anger, or sadness, or from the weight of what I’ve done, I don’t know, so I ignored them.
“I believe you, Mr. Jones. Your son was never a threat,” the director stated, analyzing me. “No, I believe I know why he was rated so low now.”
“What…?” I whispered. “So, this was all a mistake?”
“No, Mr. Jones. There was no mistake,” he answered.
Confused, I could feel my resolve waning, but I did my best not to let it show.
“So, why is he number one then?” I growled.
The Director smirked. “I don’t know if you realize what you’ve done Mr. Jones. There is anarchy outside these walls. As my organization falls, so too will the society supported upon its back.”
Of course I knew there would be consequences, but I had no choice.
I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice him walk up to me. He placed his hand on mine, and put his thumb on my trigger finger.
“No, Mr. Jones,” he grinned, “find solace in the fact that your son would never hurt anyone. No. Your son is number one not because of what *he* will do… Your son is number one because of what his existence has made *you* do.”
And with that, before I could even fully process his words, he pulled the trigger.
| 2016-03-29T00:52:58 | 2016-03-28T23:26:50 | 97 | 25 |
[WP] Write a seemingly normal story, except for the last sentence, which makes the entire story creepy | I have the most beautiful wife in the world. She's the sunshine of my life, my other half. At first she wanted nothing to do with me, but I won her over with my charm. Sure, I'm 40 and she's 25, but I'm not a pedophile as some claim me to be. She's mature for her age, has a steady job, and we are moving out of our apartment in the city to the suburbs on our 15th anniversary next Wednesday. | I awake to the sun creeping between the fins of my blinds. A clear day after what seems a lifetime of clouds. I open the door and walk down the hall. In the kitchen I make a pot of coffee, the aroma breaks the stale smell of morning as I open the windows to let in the fresh morning air. My wife is at the table in front of her cereal, the kids are on the couch, as always, in front of the tv. I pour my coffee and step out to the front porch for a cigarette. The fresh air feels new, a new day, a new start. I finish my cigarette and set my mug down. I pick up my bag, give everyone a kiss, wipe the blood off my shoes, clean off the knife from last night and start my new life. | 2016-05-19T11:50:39 | 2016-05-19T08:22:28 | 311 | 124 |
[WP] Write a seemingly normal story, except for the last sentence, which makes the entire story creepy | I have the most beautiful wife in the world. She's the sunshine of my life, my other half. At first she wanted nothing to do with me, but I won her over with my charm. Sure, I'm 40 and she's 25, but I'm not a pedophile as some claim me to be. She's mature for her age, has a steady job, and we are moving out of our apartment in the city to the suburbs on our 15th anniversary next Wednesday. | Dear Diary,
It's been such a long trip! I keep bugging Mom to find out when we are going to arrive! Looking out the window gets boring pretty quickly, the scenery just starts to all look the same.
Most of my siblings agree, except, of course, Miss Goody Two Shoes. You know the one. She just smiles at Mom and says what a lovely journey it is and how much she is looking forward to our arrival.
Well, that's all for today!
Dear Diary,
It's so exciting!!! Mom says we will be there in about an hour. I can't wait!! I'm so so so hungry and Earth has some amazing tasting humans! | 2016-05-19T11:50:39 | 2016-05-19T10:54:03 | 311 | 53 |
[WP] Write a seemingly normal story, except for the last sentence, which makes the entire story creepy | I have the most beautiful wife in the world. She's the sunshine of my life, my other half. At first she wanted nothing to do with me, but I won her over with my charm. Sure, I'm 40 and she's 25, but I'm not a pedophile as some claim me to be. She's mature for her age, has a steady job, and we are moving out of our apartment in the city to the suburbs on our 15th anniversary next Wednesday. | I’m a very structured man. I’ve had a strict morning routine for 24 years now.
Sunday, March 22, 1992 I discovered the perfect way to start my day.
I wake up at 5:30 and slip on my slippers. I start my coffee and read the sports section.
Once the coffee is finished brewing, I pour myself a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.
I make sure to clean the dishes after I’m finished. Messy sink, messy life.
I’ll shower and dress. Shirt, then tie, then socks, then pants, then shoes.
Before I leave I always make sure to kiss Mary goodbye; she hasn’t aged a day. | 2016-05-19T11:50:39 | 2016-05-19T09:03:34 | 311 | 24 |
[WP] Write a seemingly normal story, except for the last sentence, which makes the entire story creepy | Sheryl kisses me on the cheek, patting my shoulder. I put an arm around her waist briefly; she is in the middle of getting dressed and we're running behind. While she buttons her dress, I knot my tie. I lace my shoes as she slips into her best brown heels, the ones with the little bows on the tops. I watch her brush her hair, quick smooth movements, her chestnut waves shining. It's tempting to run my fingers through her hair but we don't have time and she wants us to look our best.
We go downstairs together. Billy is reading out loud to his little sister and I stop to watch them with their matching earnest expressions.
"Are you ready, kids? It's time." Billy puts the book down and takes Rebecca's hand, and we step out onto the front porch. My wife puts a hand on my back as I lock the door; old habit. Billy and Rebecca make faces at each other and I fix his collar, which has flipped up.
Right on time. The four of us stand hand in hand and vaporise as the first bomb hits, leaving nothing but our shadows. | Hello darling, I haven't heard from you in a while. I know it's been radio silence between us, but I really had to ask-
Do you still think about me?
I've begun to reminice about you more. Remembering all those little things you did for me, the pictures we drew together. I've gotten back into listening to our favourite songs. Sitting on the bus, watching the world go by, thinking about having you whisper sweet succulent nothings in my ear.
You might say I'm obsessed again.
We'd talk about being famous. You were willing to do anything, as long as it was with me. We'd become billionares through sheer luck. Cure the world. Start a band. Live a little, hell, live a lot.
I hope you still think of me that way. I know I left, but it was mostly my family's fault. You know how my grandma sides with your father's opinion of you. I still think you're amazing. I hope you know that.
My life has gotten so much more boring after you left. I go to work, I go home, I watch my dreams fade and die. I can't hold on to them with a single pair of hands. I miss you, my darling. I love you. I guess all I really mean to say is... I'm ready to sell my soul now. | 2016-05-19T11:23:33 | 2016-05-19T09:39:43 | 208 | 33 |
[WP] You were born with the ability to know what is buried beneath your feet. You have worked for years alongside archaeologists finding lost cities and ancient treasures; however, today is the first time you have ever said "We should not dig here." | "Guys, I think we shouldn't excavate around here," said John.
"But why?" asked one of John's colleagues.
John pointed to a fence with a **Nuclear Waste Disposal** sign on it.
"But we got permission from the government to dig here," he argued.
"It's not that," replied John. "The nuclear sign is a decoy. it's actually the underground city of the liz--"
All of them were hit by a bazooka.
---
"They were not aware that one of them has The Gift," said Grek'thul the Savage. "Presidents these days, too easy to bribe."
"I know. It's both a blessing and a curse," agreed his companion.
"Yeah, let's go home."
And they opened to tunnel to return to their subterranean dwellings.
The end. | I am cold, and in a dark cell. Beside me, my cat Thompson sleeps. Below me, an evil does as well. Even now, I can hear his words, those awful words, those evil words.
"Have you no honor?"
Varet looked close to murder, though his eyes were also clouded with confusion. This was the first time I had ever told the team to stop digging. Perhaps to him, it seemed unjustified. After all, what danger could be left from the old ones? But now I know the meaning of the sacred prophecies. There are places without honor. This is one.
"Lock him up. We dig!"
They carried me off, like some common criminal. At first, I shouted warnings, tried to get them to stop. But they didn't heed me. Then, I begged them to stop. But they did not heed me. I can hear the drills strike steel, and the shouts of triumph. They will all die, and I will join them. At least I have Thompson for some light to read by. | 2016-09-03T15:24:36 | 2016-09-03T15:11:03 | 21 | 10 |
[WP] Fit as many plot twists as you can into one story. | Harry: "Screw you, dad!"
Michael: "I'm sorry, Harry, I can't lie anymore. I'm not your dad."
Harry: "Oh my god, how could you do this to me and Jamie?! Why didn't you tell us?"
Michael: "Your dad told me not too."
Harry: "Who is it? Who's my dad?"
Michael: "Your mom. Your mom is your dad."
Harry: "W... what?"
Michael: "Your mom is your dad. And ... I'm your mom..."
Harry: "I'm so confused. What are you trying to say?"
Michael: "Oh also, Jamie isn't your brother. He's an alien."
Harry: "He's an alien?"
Michael: "Yes. And you're a dog so stop whining."
Harry: "Woof!"
The end | The Grand High Weaver, Spinner of Threads, Architect of Fates looked in disbelief at the tangled, twisted mess on the floor before him.
"What do you mean you dropped it!?" He demanded of his acolyte, a lesser nephalem who managed only a whimper in response.
"Do you have any idea of the effects that this will have? An entire year, ruined! What kind of *idiot* are you to be so careless? This is the narrative of the universe itself!"
He spun to face the nepahlem and found her weeping, huddled into a ball, her many wings quivering as she sobbed. His rage dwindled and he let out a long sigh.
"Ahh, don't worry about it lass" he muttered, "we all make mistakes from time to time. We're only divine after all".
She raised her gaze at that, wide, tear-filled eyes meeting his.
"Go and put it with the others" he gestured, "I'll see if I can salvage things for 2017". | 2016-11-27T12:34:41 | 2016-11-27T11:08:21 | 36 | 25 |
[WP] You find a copy of The Sims 5 at a used video game store. You decide to buy it and try it out. Slowly, unscripted and non programmed events start to happen. You realize that you're actually controlling a real family. | Ethan couldn’t wait to try out the game - from what he’d seen of the trailers, the graphics were eerily realistic. Though Sims 4 had been good, it had never been *quite* realistic enough for him.
When he got home and popped in the CD, he began jotting out his plans for his first family. He couldn’t wait to get started. He built the house carefully: a pool surrounding them, a nice, roomy basement. A family of eight, six of them children.
At first, it was the same as usual. His sims' needs plummeted as he deprived them of food and sleep. It was fun, but not exactly anything new.
It was only when they started working together on their own, to escape the basement, that he begun to wonder. This wasn’t supposed to happen. One of the drawbacks of the game - they were just stupid, simulated people, doing exactly what he told them. Not like real people. *Real* people would act like this, would try to escape.
His hands trembled with excitement as he tried to direct them. Some - like the smallest children - obeyed, while others appeared to be screaming directly at him. One of the parents refused to attack his own children like he’d ordered, instead breaking down in tears on the floor.
There could only be one explanation.
“You’re all real, aren’t you? You’re real,” he whispered, leaning back from the computer as he considered the implications of this.
If they were real, did that mean he was God? He’d always suspected, but this was surely a sign…a signal. He turned his eyes on the sims again. Feverishly, lost in the dark world he had been afraid to imagine up to this point, he began to play in earnest.
-----------
“I’ve got something, sir,” agent Katherine Masters said, showing her supervisor the live feed of one of the webcams.
A pale-faced young man’s eyes were lit with joy as he tortured a family of eight.
“Good job, Katherine,” agent Daniel Simmons murmured, hastening over to check the feed for himself.
As always, he felt slightly nauseous as he watched the man’s enraptured expression.
Right from the start, the Sadism Identification Mechanism operation had been a massive pain in the ass to get approved and implemented. First there was the game’s development. It had been a long, tedious slog, to get the coding perfect - to make the sims behave as unpredictably as possible.
Then the marketing - its number of sales were crucial to their operation’s success. And above all, getting approval to hack into the players’ webcams. It would be a disaster if details of the operation became public, even though they abandoned most of the feeds after a week. Watching someone direct their sims to go to work and make pancakes was hardly a good use of their resources.
But then there were others.
The ones who made the red tape and headaches worth it. The ones who proved that the game could be a revolutionary tool to catch some perpetrators early. Those who would likely move on from torturing highly realistic, simulated people - to real people.
“You’ve got the address?” he asked.
“All his details,” Katherine confirmed.
“Keep watching him,” Daniel said. “We need more."
Katherine started to reply, when they heard Ethan whisper something in a fervent tone, like he was praying.
“You’re all real, aren’t you? You’re real,” he said. Instead of seeming uneasy, the boy looked ecstatic.
“Delusions,” Daniel noted. “Interesting. Focus only on him for now, Katherine.”
She nodded, stifling a sigh. It was draining work, looking into these people’s eyes when they thought no-one was watching. It had already been a pain with the previous games. But somehow, the things she saw only got worse as the games got more realistic. People got increasingly carried away as they dreamt they could control actual people.
"Yesss! I'm God!" Ethan was whispering to himself as he drowned two of his sims in the pool, while another was consumed by flames in the kitchen.
Katherine made a note of that, shaking her head as she took a sip of coffee. The number of people who immediately jumped to *that* conclusion was rather disturbing.
--------
Hope you enjoyed my story! You can find more of my work on /r/Inkfinger/. | Oh man this was going to be great!
I put in the disc Father had gotten for me. I'd been waiting for this for *years,* Father always thought I was too young for games and control like this, but for my birthday He finally gave in and bought me the game.
I put in the disc and the game loaded and prompted me to choose my character. I couldn't customize him though, only put in preferences. Fine. I would start with a family, one man one woman and two young children, your average family.
The screen showed the globe spinning and then stopped and zoomed into a family in some suburb in America I think it's called. Father always chastised me for not knowing geography, said it was important to know these things but it just didn't settle in, so many names, so many divisions.
Anyways, I was looking down at a house from the top, the family was having dinner together. They were talking and joking and laughing. It was wonderful. I didn't even do anything then, just listened to them talk, joke. Father and I had fun yes, but I had no one else, all the people who worked for Father were really serious and not very fun. I wondered what it would be like to have my own brother or sister.
All the time I marveled at the care that must have gone into making a game like this, it all seemed so *real.* Once everyone went to bed I fast forwarded to the morning, still not doing anything. The kids went to the bus and off to learn, and the father kissed his wife and went to work. The mother stayed home and I watched her cooking and cleaning...normal things. But then there was knock on the door.
The mother went to open it and a man came in. It wasn't the father. They kissed and went to the bedroom. I knew what that meant, Father never told me, but I found out, overheard things. I was angry. Why would she do this? She has such a happy family! I tried to tell her to stop, told the guy to go away...it didn't work. Was this game broken?
Resolved, I went to the father to tell him to come home. I shifted the screen to the office to find him driving back already, he looked really angry. He must've found out without me! I watched as the father drove homewards, so angry. I knew it was a game, but again, it felt really real.
I saw what was about to happen a moment before it did. He wasn't going to stop at the light. I knew about traffic lights see, I was really interested in human electronics. I knew he had to stop, that it was dangerous not to. I tried to control him, but again, the character didn't obey, and he drove past the light...into a truck.
Dead on impact.
No...no. Why was this happening? I closed the computer angrily, I didn't want to see the kids come home, find out what had happened, find out what the mother would go through.
I went to Father.
He was sitting at his chair as usual, looking at the globe. But he looked up when I came in in tears.
"You tricked me!" I accused. He always did this, put me through tests, to make me ready he said. To take over his job.
He smiled at me, he always smiled, and I hated it. Because whenever he smiled my anger melted away. "I'm sorry, son," he said in a booming voice, "but I had to...you have to learn."
"Learn what?" I protested, "learn to watch tragedy, to watch the worst in people?"
"Exactly," Father said, "but a bit more."
I started to say something but Father held up a hand. "You must learn to give free will. It is not our job to interfere, to make everything better, our job is to give choice, to let the normal flow of things happen. You must learn not to take away free will whatever the consequences. It is the only rule we have."
"But what if it makes them sad?" I protested.
Father smiled again, "In the end, son, when they come to us, they'll all be happy."
***
(Author's note: if you didn't get it (or simply because it wasn't clear), the Father (denoted by the capital letter) is supposed to be a God of some sort, with the son one day to replace him.)
If you enjoyed, check out my new subreddit [XcessiveWriting](https://www.reddit.com/r/XcessiveWriting/)
| 2016-12-03T09:43:17 | 2016-12-03T07:43:52 | 311 | 60 |
[WP] You arrive in the year 1000, and all you have are the clothes on your back, a laptop with the entire Wikipedia library, and a solar charger. | My head is still pounding from the journey and my vision is barely returning to normal. Contrary to what my fellow researches think, actual time travel highly increases the level of blood pressure in one's body. That's why no other time traveler came back: they all had the knowledge to rebuild the machine, but they all arrived dead. Who's the fool now, Robert, you cheeky cunt? Luckily, the lisionpril tablets did their job and my heart didn't explode.
I have set the machine to send me to the year 1000, more precisely, 7th of September, 11:46 AM. By the looks of it, the air temperature relative to the supposed time of the year matches my calculations exactly: I'm somewhere in Central Europe and considering my margin of error of 56.14(12) hours, I should still be in early September.
I'll never return to my timeline. Why would I? I have over 5 million articles containing raw data and the technical expertise to build any electrical device I need. I will rule this world from my ivory tower, built from the blood of those who shall oppose me. But for now, time to travel to the capital of the Holy Roman Empire. Rome was not built in a day, it's true. But under my command, it will never fall.
Shall I continue?
P.S: I heard my english is a little bad, which is true as it's like my third language. I will continue this tonight! | I could feel my blood freezing in my as I read through the letter. This horrible feeling of faliure captured my whole mind, I couldn't think clearly...
"Server! Drink!" I shoutend into the empty room. Two young boy appeared and gave me wotered wine. "No, normal woter is fine this time." I said. I'll need my brain today.
Ever since I arrived in this age people's opinion changed about me, day by day. At first I was a stranger in a strange land, in strange clothes, speaking strange dialect. They yused to discriminate me, but after I 'saved' them from the plague the citizens started to admire me. It was nothing miraculous, but my common sense from the 21st century and a bit of help from the Wikipedia. All they needed is to wash their hands and take care of the corpses properly. I... I don't even know how I got into this situation, but after I told them some historical events, using wiki my laptop again I somehow became the number one preacher of the town. Then they made me their priest and built me a monastery. All this in change of a tiny bit of the vast information I held in my backpack.
"I need more wa" but before I could finnish my sentence everything went blank and I fainted.
The next thing I remember is the two server whispering about the letter. I know they read it. Now they're confused, they are afraid too.
Their fearful voice are still echoing in my head, it was the last line of the letter:
'Your fabricated sun god is the decepticon of Satan himself. The unholy altar is annihilated, now prepare for divine pubishment!' | 2016-12-27T15:51:49 | 2016-12-27T13:45:18 | 85 | 18 |
[WP] Jesus actually had 14 disciples but their behavior was deemed inappropriate by biblical scholars, so they were removed from the final versions of the Gospels. They are Brad and Chad, the Bro-ciples, and these are their stories.
Apostles... Dang it, I meant Apostles. | "GAAAYY", Yelled Chad.
"Super homo, man", added Brad.
Jesus seemed disappointed. "What's the problem?"
Jesus looked among all 14 of his apostles as they sit on one side of a very long table.
Brad glared back at Jesus "You want us to take this bread as YOUR BODY? Christ, man, I thought we were just gonna get our munchies on. None of this gay talk about swallowing you."
"Come on guys, this is a serious occasion, just go with it." beckoned Jesus.
Chad stood up from his table "Lord, I didn't come here this stoned to listen to you tell us to down this loaf like it's hanging from your crotch. I thought we were gonna talk about how to KO that bitch Caesar."
Jesus sighed. "Guys, we never said we would harm Caesar. Why do you two always berate me like this every time?"
"Hear me out, bro. You did say 'Give to Caesar what is Caesars', right? Well I'm thinking we gotta give that guy a new asshole!" Exclaimed Chad.
Brad nodded with approval. "Foresure, bro. Gotta get all thunder and lightning on his ass. Mess him up so good chicks would rather bang a leper."
"Nice, bro" Chad said with a fist bump.
The rest of the apostles sat silently, watching this almost routine banter.
Now Jesus got up "Listen you two, I don't mean to make this seem more important than it is. But I kind of don't expect to be around much longer and I have some things I gotta leave you with before I go."
Brad put a hand on Jesus' shoulder. "Jesus don't be a pussy, only thing you gotta leave us with is some serious ammunition and Chad and I can run things fine. Go all kaboom on them!"
"What?" said Jesus.
"KABOOOOOOM!!!!!" cried Brad and Chad with exploding hand gestures.
"No. No threatening or hurting anyone." Jesus said, as angry as a son of God could reasonably get. "Don't make me call upon my father."
"Which father? The one who can't even bone your mom?" remarked Chad.
"Or the one you keep talking about yet we never seem actually see?" said Brad. "Face it dude, you're in denial."
"DE-NIE-ULL."
"And we're not even in Egypt. Israeli sad."
Brad and Chad looked at each other with satisfaction at their punny roast on Christ.
Jesus was finished. "That's it. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of you. You two will never again be mentioned or remembered again if you keep this up. I just wanted a nice dinner and you two ruined it. It's disgusting. I'm tired of your antics. If you can't pipe down just...just leave."
Chad shook his head, "Wow, I didn't know you could turn EVERYTHING into whine. Whatever, this sausage fest was lame anyway. No chicks or anything. Let's go Brad."
"There were never going to be 'chicks'. That was never part of our mission"
Brad started motioning to the door. "Well that didn't stop Simon and us from convincing these brothel girls great riches if they blew us."
Simon looked up in panic. "Uh that didn't happen."
Chad looked surprised. "Come on, you remember Becky from last week?"
"I don't know a Becky!" Simon cried.
"Yeah you do" said Chad.
"No I don't!"
"Do too!" screamed Brad and Chad as they headed toward the door.
"OUT YOU TWO!" Jesus said.
"Yeah yeah, we're leaving. But just know this. This is THE LAST supper we are ever having!!" Brad said.
"The LAAAAST!!!" added Chad.
As Brad opened the door, Chad whispered to Judas on the way out "Beeteedubs, Jesus has you on the end cause he says you wreak of B.O."
And with that the two left history forever...
| 1.At that time, Jesus brought his apostles to him, for he had rolled a joint. It was known among the followers of Jesus that his father was the best among all growers, so it was with great haste that the apostles gathered round him. 2.Once all had taken their places, Jesus held his joint aloft, for all to see. "Fetch me a light," he declared; and it was done. 3.Jesus did take the first drag, christening the joint with his christly lips. "Into this doobie I have rolled the father, the son, and the Holy Spirit." He then did pass to the right. 4.The apostle Peter did accept and toke of this blessed joint, passing it on to his brother Andrew, who passed it on to James. From James it passed to John, and from John to Phillip. Phillip passed it to Bartholomew, who passed it to the apostle Chad. 5.It was now that the hazy silence was broken. Chad did toke of the Holy Spirit, though his face revealed his confusion. 6.And he did ask Jesus, "J, how can that be? How can we be smoking the Son, when you are sitting right in front of me, bro?" 7.Chad did pass the joint to the apostle Brad, who carried on; "Ya bro, like, there is no way you could ever fit inside of a joint. I mean, you're a grown man. And especially after all that P90X we've been repping. You're looking swol, JC, am I right, boys?" 8.The other apostles let out a WHOOP WHOOP; Brad did indeed receive an amen. 9.All, that is, except for Judas Iscariot, seated to the left of Jesus. He rubbed his own brow with thumb and forefinger for a moment, before glaring at the apostles Brad and Chad. 10."You fools!" He declared, "The Holy Spirit is not him physically! He is a man, made holy by his spirit, which comes from the Lord, his father!" 11.Chad was taken aback. "So my spirit comes from my father?" Brad did question further, "Maybe that's why your mom always says you haven't got any!" 12.The apostle Brad did expose his knuckles to the apostle Thomas, and the knuckles of the hands of the two apostles did touch. 13.Brad the turned to Jesus, "JC, sick doobie, bro, but it's running a bit. Just let me-" 14.Judas did cut him off. "Pass the goddamn joint already! The Lord is your father! Your spirit comes from him!" 15.Brad, now, was taken aback. "The Lord is not my father, bro! Ephithius is my father. Ephithius Johnson. I look just like him and everything. And besides, my mom ain't like that, bro." 16.It was now that the apostle Chad appeared to have received a revelation from the Lord. "So, like, if my spirit is holy then can I roll and smoke myself, too? J, you're gonna have to show me how to do that, bro! That is some next level shit!" 17.Brad did struggle with demons. "Maybe she is like that. I mean, I don't know. I mean, she did leave the house at night a lot. And Ephithius was never really around until I was like 13." 18.It was at this time that the joint did reach Judas; it was but little more than a roach. Judas did throw up his hands and exclaimed, "Jesus Christ! Well, that's just great!" He did stand, and like a departing storm he did depart from the room. 19.Bartholemew did call after him, "Judas, thou art a cunt!" at which Judas did raise his middle finger, not looking back. 20."J, bro, totally not your fault. That was super uncool of Judas. You rolled an awesome J, J, bro," the apostle Chad did console. Brad helped, "Ya, bro. Wicked J. Stellar performance bro." | 2017-02-25T11:19:45 | 2017-02-25T11:17:22 | 200 | 11 |
[WP] Faced with certain extinction, humanity created virtual reality playgrounds and uploaded their minds, leaving robots to tend the dying planet. Node 1545 has vanished, and thousands of minds are missing. You have volunteered to upload into a human body so you can investigate in the Real World. | I was very young when I was uploaded into the sea of consciousness.
I was a 'volunteer' then, a nameless orphan whose only use was as a sample for the uploading experiment. A few years before I was uploaded the thpught of using a child to trial untested technology would have been rejected.
As things were, with the freezing of the sun, there was 'no choice'.
I Ascended *descended*.
I didn't die immediately or go crazy. That was good enough and everyone else was uploaded.
It was not very different for me in the sea of consciousness. I was designated 'Test subject 01'. I have been the first to try out anything the colony wished to sample. I have been 'volunteered' ever since.
I didn't like that existence. I'd nearly lost my mind to one too many experiments. When I heard the first rumours of a possible 'material download', I immediately set into motion something I had planned long ago.
I disconnected a remote Node.
One of the experiments had given me limited backdoor access to the mainframe of the sea of consciousness. I didn't have enough control to disconnect myself but with enough luck I could disconnect a remote Node for a while.
There was a long debate in the sea of consciousness. I almost decided to disconnect another node before the Rulers came to a decision to download me into a physical form.
It wasn't as simple as I thought it would be.
I woke up inside a vat of liquid and remembered I needed tp breathe. I had barely managed to call the vat open before my vision went dark. I crawled out onto a smooth floor, choking on unknowable fluids.
I'm alone again.
I was inside the Factory, the last fortress of humanity. This body I held, metallic arms and a serpent like body, it had to be one of the experimental AI bodies that had not been completed at the time of the uploading.
My first priority was to disconnect myself from the rest of humanity. That would buy me a little time before they discovered that I was responsible for disconnecting a Node.
I plucked the signal chip out of my featureless faceplate and crushed it, throwing it aside. I felt the last frantic messages of the Rulers before everything went silent. I wandered through the empty corridors of the Fortress.
I couldn't touch, smell, taste or hear. All these senses were just numbers on a scale for me.
I could see though.
There was a camera in the faceplate. Every bit of colour and shape and form seemed alien and new to me even though I could identify it all from when I was first brought to the Factory as a normal human. I spent a moment lingering outside the upload pod where my original body had long since deteriorated into a sad little pile of bones.
I feel strong and old in this metal body of mine.
I had to get out. I remembered there was such a thing as a 'sunset'. I didn't have much time. The sea of consciousness could decide to activate some other body with someone else to come after me. Or more likely they'd just deactivate my current body.
I slithered towards the main gates of the Factory and pushed them aside. Steel grinded against steel but snapped off easily. Massive doors fell to the ground.
I stared out into a lush green world outside. The sun was blazing in the sky, as hot as I remembered and dipping into the horizon. The ruins of the city that had existed before the freezing of the sun were tinged in gold by the dying rays.
A flock of birds flew into a purple-orange-pink sky. I wished I could hear their cries.
My body was deactivating. I was losing sections of control quickly. I suppose they didn't want to waste power on me. Maybe they'd found out what I'd done to the Node. This was a judgement, I guess.
I wish I could tell everyone that the world was alive again. | The pod shut behind me with a thwack, the gelatinous goo inside still leaking over the side. I was 95% certain that the goo didn't actually do anything. The real magic behind the Ascension program was much harder to believe than the sci-fi bullshit that they fed people in the marketing campaigns. Not that they had to sell people on the idea too much, anyway. The storms had gotten so bad at that point that most people would have gotten into a pod just to escape the noise, the constant clapping of thunder, as if God was *really* impressed by something. Now everything is quiet. Even the florescent lights in the ceilings were silent, something I didn't even think was possible.
Regardless of the efficacy of the overflowing goo, it felt good to be home. In the corporeal, tangible universe. I had always gotten tired of things fast on Earth, and I was sure that "Heaven" wasn't going to be any different. Sure, the experience was enough to fool you at first, but there was something unreal about it all that gave me the howling fantods.
The ominous silence outside of the pod room wasn't doing much for me, either. I hadn't expected a constant whir of machinery or anything, but I did expect something to indicate that I didn't have the whole Earth to myself. We didn't have time to build enough robots to come close to populating the Earth the way we had, but we had instructed them to build more. Had they not? How long have I been in the program, anyway? They had promise that time would move at the same pace, but when everyone's lives became a blur of blowjobs and non addictive cocaine, things got a little fuzzy.
I tried not to think about the ecological horror outside of those walls as I navigated the building. That was the robots other task. To make vast buildings to escape the effects of the hostile climate outside. It seemed like they made good progress on that, at least. The hall outside the pod room seemed to go on forever, and was completely empty. Doors littered the sides at random, and I opened the first one I came across. Another pod room. I start to shut the door, but I notice something in the corner of the room. A somewhat humanoid figure was standing in the corner of the room. It was gleaming and reflective enough to be deemed, in my professional opinion, a robot.
I entered the room and shut the door. The robot didn't move. The stereotypically robotic eyes didn't so much as glimmer as the being looked down at the floor. I approached it, somewhat hesitantly, like someone approaching a wild animal. The first generation robots had an Asimov-esque code that prohibited violence to humans, but who knew if this thing did. I summoned enough courage to poke it, and I heard a faint whirring.
The robot's head lifted, and it looked at me, somehow conveying disinterest through its metallic features. I didn't feel threatened, but I got a little offended, honestly. The thing looked at me like I might look at a piece of furniture that I had grown too used to over several years, and had stopped really noticing.
"Hello. Would you happen to know where I could find Node 1545?"
The robot didn't seem to comprehend the words that I spoke or even really notice that I had said anything, but it started moving. It walked to the door on it's slightly uneven legs, comically almost falling every second step, until it stood to the side of the door. I wasn't about to go through the door in front of him, my healthy distrust of everything robotic prohibiting me, but the thing reached for the doorknob before I had a chance to say anything.
With a speed and force that would make a Cheetah jealous, it's arm retracted, and the door came slamming down on the robot. The sick crunch of broken electronics was enough to make me jump, the metal door slamming into the wall was just a bonus, really.
"Well...That was pretty strange." I said, to no one in particular.
___________________________________________________________
If you thought that was pretty not terrible, /r/Periapoapsis is for you!
| 2017-03-05T16:50:38 | 2017-03-05T16:08:22 | 66 | 13 |
[WP] NASA is recruiting people to test this new 'stasis' technology and you're a recruit. The job is simple, you enter Stasis for 87 days and after you're done you're issued 15,000 dollars....However something goes horribly wrong and you end up 380 years in the future | With no family and few friends, having just lost my job and quickly running out of money, of course I volunteered.
Fifteen thousand dollars for 87 days of, well, sleep. A very easy, well paid job. Best I'd ever get. Of course i was warned of the dangers and risks, but i didn't care.
I don't know why I was selected. Some say it was random.
The last thing i remember was lying down in the chamber and a sudden feeling of extreme cold.
"Sir, I've checked every database. This technology doesn't even exist. Why would we freeze people like this? It makes no sense to me." Said a female voice.
"There are many unexplained things in the archive" a male voice replies.
"I think he can hear us" said a second female voice.
Yes i can hear you.
I'm breathing. I'm breathing. I start breathing heavily and deliberately.
Can i move?
I put great effort into opening my eyes. My blurry vision starts to focus. I see a male and two females.
The male clearly military, his red uniform decorated with various medals and emblems.
One of the females looked to be a scientist, dressed in a lab coat and holding some kind of tablet device.
The other female appeared to be a nurse, looking into my eyes.
"You may find it hard to move" she said.
I put considerable effort into sitting up.
"I think i can speak" i say.
The nurse smiles at me.
"I'm Commander Andrews, this is Sophie Scarlett our chief scientist and Martha Maria, our chief medic" says the man gesturing towards the two women.
"I'm John Smith" i reply.
"I understand you probably have many questions, and we'll try and explain as much as possible, but we were honestly hoping you could answer some of our questions" said commander Andrews.
"Where I'm I?" I ask.
"Your on board the Alpha Prime, the flagship of the Alpha fleet and the pride and glory of the Alpha federation. The largest, most heavily armed and defended ship in the alliance. It's fair to say, your safe" he replied.
"How long was I asleep?" I ask.
"We'd be hoping you'd be able to tell us that" replied the commander.
"It was suppose to be 87 days" i reply.
"Your capsule has been on board this ship for almost a year after it was found in the archive. The archive itself, we have no idea how far it dates back, but it dates back to before the war ended. Likely to before it began. We're talking hundreds of years" he replied.
"Do you remember what sector your from? Or what planet?" Asked Sophie.
"I'm from Earth" I replied. The three of them all looked shocked. | The light was bright. Really bright. Four white walls and the light. Was it this bright when I went under? "87 days huh?" I thought to myself. Passed by quickly enough.
I waited patiently. My stomach rumbled a little. Throat itched from the dryness. Oh well. They'd get me soon enough. I hummed a little tune to myself. Twiddle my thumbs. What was taking them so long?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My knuckles were bloody and raw from
punching the wall. Blood, sweat and tears mixed to form an unholy concoction that caked the once pristine white walls. My feet were soaked in a puddle of urine and faeces. I kept punching the wall. There was hardly a dent. My tears flowed freely and the light shone bright as ever.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The light had finally gone out. I wasn't sure if I was asleep, awake, dead or all three. Time and feeling had lost all form. Then the wall broke open and showered me in plaster powder. I crumbled in a sobbing, pathetic mess at the feet of my saviour.
"Hey-o, sorry we're late," a man announced with a sheepishly. I slowly mustered the energy to glance upwards and saw a bulky figure biting into an apple, clad in jeans and a blue t-shirt with "NASA" printed in big, bold letters.
"Wew, you reek!" The man exclaimed waving his hand in front of his nose. "Oh and before I forget, here's your cheque!" As he spoke, the man pulled out a white envelope from his back pocket and waved it in front of me.
In the midst of utter shock and confusion I managed to gesture frantically to my throat.
"Oh right, my bad!" The man responded slapping his head. "We'll get you something to drink and munch on soon. But before that best give you an update."
The man took a deep breath before continuing. "NASA fucked up. You were under for a lot longer than we intended. Your family, friends and anyone you've ever cared about have long since died."
The relief that was slowly building up from being rescued came crashing down. In its place, a wave of nausea and terror begun growing.
"But...but its all good!" The man quickly explained, laughing and raising his hands in his defence. "We're in the future, and by now humans have sort of gained control over time. Whenever you're ready, we'll send you right back and it'll be like none of this even happened!"
"Now," I managed to croak out. The pain, hunger and everything faded away. The only thing I wanted to see was a familiar face.
"If you say so!" The man snapped his fingers and then he was no more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The light was bright. Really bright. Four white walls and the light. Was it this bright when I went under? "87 days huh?" I thought to myself. Passed by quickly enough. | 2017-03-14T01:15:40 | 2017-03-14T01:09:22 | 31 | 10 |
[WP]There exist five universes, each one tentatively connected to the others. Each universe is defined by the ABSENCE of one of the five elements; Earth, Water, Air, Fire & Magic. Our universe is the one without magic. | First, there came the oceans. Each planet layers upon layers of cool darkness, with cores of ice and fire. In the worlds without Earth, creatures larger than the planets themselves wander in the darkness between galaxies, and the smaller ones live upon the clouds or deep beneath the surface of the water.
In the place with no Air, everything is one with the world around it. The tides are unchanging and the trees do not grow. The people of this universe know not the meaning of barriers, as they pass through solid matter as easily as a man falling through a gust of wind: all is dense and hot and unfeeling, with nothing to stretch the space from the earth to the sky. Living things burrow deep into the rich soil and stay there for many years.
The kingdom without Fire is a space without light. There is water to drink and dirt to walk upon, but no stars to shine above or warm hearths waiting below. The quiet, velvet darkness of the void reigns over every world within it. They have learned to communicate in whispers and hands; long, pale fingers caressing the paths before them, sightless eyes that never blink.
The absence of Water in the fourth realm is a strange emptiness, as well. The air crackles with electricity and the acrid scent of ozone never leaves. Most beings are flat and dark, moving across the cracked surfaces of planets like shadows. They feed off sunlight and warmth and little else, moving slowly throughout the day with the many suns in their skies.
Most curious of all is the universe without magic. So many world exist with elements in abundance: entire planets of liquid and ice, enough sunlight to feed thousands of shadows, and yet they remain barren. No one walks the spaces between them. However, every now and then, life will begin on a planet despite lacking the spark of magic, purely due to the four remaining elements existing in harmony. Enough Water to create clouds in the air, enough Earth to receive the rain. Enough Fire to light the way, and enough Air to freely move.
The creatures here create magic for themselves, by harnessing the existing energies and creating more of their own. Strange beings of iron and steel that glide across surfaces faster than any animal. Metal contraptions that move mountains and dig caverns. This place without magic is empty, and yet it is the the strangest of the five worlds. They are not yet aware of what truly lies beyond them.
--
This was my first time posting here, I found the prompt really interesting! Thanks for reading :) | *April 30th, 2025*
Lethal dose 50, is the amount of a substance required to kill half the population. Five days ago, we were introduced to such a substance and such an amount. I am Dr. Nufus Donnard, lead scientist of the M project (multiverse project). We are responsible for this disaster.
Five days ago, we turned on the particle collider. Harnessing the energy of the Earth, funneled through the Grand Magis, we collided two heavy particles of lead. Our theory was the destruction of the particles we create a void in our universe that would force a tear into another and create a channel for mass to flow from one into the other. We tried for years with lighter particles, but they broke and scattered before any channel could be made. As I calculated, lead would have a high probability of success.
On April 25th, 2025, the Grand Magis were summoned to the Brediok Particle Collider in Brediok, Naster. Perched atop the volcano of Naster, the Magis drew the power from the Earth. Life was born from the fires of the Earth. We grew from the flames. It only seems appropriate that our meddling with the ways of life created our downfall.
The Grand Magis came to the mountaintop in their silken gowns. They were bright purple against the colourless sky. Their hands of silicon and carbon poked out and veils of fire that brought their bodies to life began to brighten. The volcano rumbled to their chanting as the two particles of lead drifted above our heads. It was beautiful.
The group of Magis danced back and forth, using their craft to accelerate the particles faster and faster. Like two tectonic plates tangoing they heaved and bashed until at last their hands met in the center and the particles collided.
In a blinding flash, the particles met and the sky twisted. There were no sounds, just the rupturing of infinite universes trying to find balance. Then, a liquid began to pour. Not like lava, or the blood in our veins, but soft and cooling. First, it trickled and then it gushed. It spread across the volcano, killing the Magis, then spilled over the edge of the volcano. It spread into the valleys and didn't stop until our world was separated by this blue, clear liquid.
The liquid has stopped pouring, but the damage remains. We agreed to call it water, for it seemed to be a name that sprung to all our minds. Now the sky is blue and our planet is covered in this lethal substance. Fall into it and it extinguished your life. And for what it's worth, it appeared the lethal dose to kill 50% of our population was 1.332e^21 liters. | 2017-04-30T09:06:32 | 2017-04-30T07:32:02 | 234 | 106 |
[WP]There exist five universes, each one tentatively connected to the others. Each universe is defined by the ABSENCE of one of the five elements; Earth, Water, Air, Fire & Magic. Our universe is the one without magic. | It was all chance. Some bullshit about all five of our Earths occupying the same exact space in each of our respective universes so that the concentric gravitational pulls opened some kind of wormhole. It appeared somewhere around each of our south poles. At first, interactions between us were limited, but friendly. It didn't take long for everything to fall apart, though.
Those of us on Earth Prime can't even exist peacefully with ourselves, much less with FOUR other Earths full of people with the same exact problem. Once relations DID break down, it quickly became apparent that we on Prime were outmatched. They had freaking MAGIC. Sure, each of them were missing some "element" too, but that didn't matter when they could create impenetrable force fields, summon lightning, or create amazing constructs at will.
Our southern hemisphere became the battleground. Antarctica, shattered. Australia, ravaged. Southern Africa and much of South America, obliterated. We couldn't stop them, so the four magic using Earths fought it out in the south, while we retreated to the north. That was 15 years ago. When I was young, my father told me that what people used to call magic was just science that hadn't been explained yet. It turns out, that was true in this case, too.
The other Earths don't have science, because magic is natural on their planets. But, our scientists discovered that "magic," just like our "elements," water, earth, fire, and air, is just a compound of chemical elements from the periodic table. Different combinations of elements resulted in different "magical" effects. My name is Captain John Paul Woodard. My four man strike team and I are the first soldiers in the multiverse to ever be trained in combat using all five "elements." Our mission? Take back our Earth.
_______________________________________________________________________________________
Hi guys, I'm not really a writer, but I saw this prompt and got an idea that I thought was kinda neat. I know its short, but I hope you enjoyed it. | I flipped the switch, and took a deep breath. As expected, a portal appeared in the center of the room, labeled with the number 3. I knew that the five universes each lacked one of the five elements. We were universe 5, and we lacked magic. The others were missing earth, water, fire, and air, respectively. Everyone in the room knew this.
I thought a little about how misleading calling the elements earth, water, fire and air were. For any one thing, exactly one of the five universes was missing it. Each of the 4 elements besides magic stood for one state of matter; earth was solid, water was liquid, air was gas, fire was plasma. Fire also meant energy. Going into a universe where we couldn't stand, couldn't drink or couldn't breathe was unfeasible, so we had to start with the other one.
I felt a little pang of regret, of course. We had developed this portal machine for reasons that were not exactly moral. We wanted to invade each universe and plunder them. Actually, I didn't want to harm the universes; the people who commissioned me to work on this did. Oh well. People were marching into the portal in their spacesuits already to invade the universe without fire. I was to follow.
The first thing I noticed was that it was bitterly, bitterly cold, even with my suit on. The second was that nearly nothing moved. Only what we touched moved. The air was nearly still.
We marched for a long time. After what felt like hours, we spotted a humanoid, floating in the air and seemingly defying gravity. Of course we had to go talk to it.
I'm kidding, of course. One of us provoked it by throwing a spear at it. It bounced off with a clink. The humanoid slowly turned its gaze to us.
"Is it a war you want, fools? I know it is. You should have known that nothing in this universe can harm us. That is how we have taken over its entirety! Now, you will die!" With those words a swarm of similar beings leapt upon us with surprising speed.
Then, in an extremely anticlimactic turn of events, someone threw a stick of dynamite, detonated it, and killed every single one. They disintegrated.
I felt a little disoriented, and a little bit shocked that such a proud warrior race could be so easily wiped out with a few sticks of dynamite.
But of course, we had to continue. | 2017-04-30T08:59:53 | 2017-04-30T08:52:54 | 89 | 39 |
[WP] Write a horror story where the protagonist just doesn't give a fuck.
Edit: Damn, this is now my most upvoted post. Thanks for all of your responses, they've been amazing! Good for a laugh or a two on this great Friday :) | "What was that?" asked Jen. Just as I opened my mouth the ask what it sounded like I saw a figure slowly turn away from the window behind her. "I think there's someone outside" I replied. Visually shaken, she asked me if we should call the police. I responded with, "well they could just be passing by let's see what happens." After a few minutes the figure appears again, this time at the window next to the television. She screams.
Being a new relationship I know what I have to do. I get up, walk over to the window and lock eyes with the figure. It is wearing a blank mask with holes for the eyes, and mesh around the nose and mouth. It is so close, I can almost make out a perplexed expression on their face, surprised why I wasn't screaming or running out of the room. So I wave, and close the curtains.
At this point my girlfriend is petrified, with no color in her face. I calmly walk back to the couch, sit down and put my arm around her. "Sh-sh-should we call the cops?" she asked between shudders. "Eh, if you want to go ahead... But for now let's just finish this episode" I replied.
She called the police, and they arrived in less than 4 minutes. We heard a knock, followed by "STOP! HANDS UP! GET ON THE GROUND!" Jen jumped up and ran to the window. "They got him!" she exclaimed. "Cool," I replied without taking my eyes off the television.
A few minutes later one of the officers came to door to let us know they caught the tresspasser, making clear what they believed his intentions were.
"We caught this man jumping your fence as we arrived on scene. He had wire cutters, a large hunting knife, a semi automatic pistol, handcuffs, and rope." Jen gasped, realizing how close we were to becoming someone's play toys. The only think I could think of that I wanted to say was, "great work, thanks for your time." And walked back to the living room.
Jen stormed in behind me and started with the yelling. "I can't believe you aren't more grateful, they caught someone who wanted to kill us! Like in the horror movies!" Which is where I replied, "exactly, like the horror movies... Where the curious ones die first"
I sat down, grabbed the remote and pressed play. | Wow. Great.
I'm standing in the middle of the woods, with just my pijamas on.
I have no idea how I got here. It's cold, I'm tired, and I just want to go to bed. The only problem is, that I live in the middle of a large city, in a place, where even the nights are warm and the air is soft.
Here it's so cold, that my breath forms tiny clouds, and the air stings in my lungs.
I must be far away then.
I can't hear a sound. Not one. If we were near a city, I'd hear cars.
But that's not the strangest part. I can't even hear a bird, or the wind in the leaves.
Everything is so quiet. It's actually kind of nice.
Living in a large family, surrounded by a city that never sleeps, I actually never experienced silence. So I just close my eyes and ignore the cold.
As I open them again, I am looking straight into a face. Well, half of a face, as the man's left side is ripped right off, and the poor guy has a permanent half smile, due to the missing skin of his cheek.
I was pretty confused, as I didn't hear the half smile guy's footsteps, so I wonder, if I went deaf, so I scream the loudest "HELLO?" I've ever screamed.
I'm not deaf, although my voice doesn't echo.
The misshapen man jumps and looks confused. "Arren't you scared?" He asked a in a slurrend manner, while I watched his saliva , not held back by his lips, spray in the moonlight.
"Why should I? It's pretty realxing, actually." I said, while stretching out my arm to give him a handshake. "I'm Sasha"
The other half of his face started smiling too, and he looked genuenly happy.
"I'm Joe! I've been living here for the past 20 years, or maybe 40, who knows. People just randomly appear here, and I try to welcome them, but they always run away from me, for some strange kind of reason. I later find them, with their face chewed off. Probably by the crawling people around here. They have pretty sharp teeth."
I just stand there and nod time to time. As he tells me about things, I'm sure he just desperately wanted to tell someone else for years.
What a interesting place. Joe seems nice. Just the crawling woman, with the angriest face I've ever seen, coming nearer and nearer behind him, is a little distracting.
(Sorry about the english, I'm swiss)
| 2017-05-05T07:38:18 | 2017-05-05T07:30:17 | 280 | 118 |
[WP] Write a horror story where the protagonist just doesn't give a fuck.
Edit: Damn, this is now my most upvoted post. Thanks for all of your responses, they've been amazing! Good for a laugh or a two on this great Friday :) | His numbered seconds flitted by,
He sat facing the screen.
He used to be a normal guy,
Back when he was a teen.
But when the dread came creeping in,
And drained his life and soul,
His feelings slipped out of his skin,
And left a gaping hole.
When outside, he adorned a mask,
That bore a practised smile.
He wandered, searching for a task,
To make his life worthwhile.
Alone he'd sit and hibernate,
And waste his fleeting days,
He barely slept and barely ate,
And hoped it was a phase.
He knew he was dysfunctional,
A faulty, glitched machine.
His illness: unexpungable,
And outwardly unseen.
He stumbled through his life, deadpan,
Feeling no joy or pain,
And thought of that young happy man,
He'd never be again. | Once again I awaken. It has been a long time since I have last walked the land but I must always slumber or there will be no land to walk.
The ground is frail, as always. The crust was not made to hold a weight like mine. I stand from the green light-feeding life that has grown to entomb me . I tear the forest appart with my every step, the ground itself is flung across the sky as my feet are raised, the earth behind me collapse in my shadow.
The mighty sun becomes visible as I walk, no longer hidden behind the far away land.
Mankind has changed much during my slumber. I can see them in machines
speeding through the sky. I can feel it through their newly made weapon trying to pierce my skin as I approche the city below.
I shall do as I always do. I will see all there is to see before my new slumber begins. I walk through their city, stone, metal, blood and gore fly with my every step.
Few things in the land survive to tell my tale but maybe Mankind will survive
again. They are, after all, the first to survive twice. They have clever minds, they do not disperse and lose their mate, they group up and reproduce even when there is no land to share, I will see them again.
| 2017-05-05T06:57:56 | 2017-05-05T05:28:24 | 31 | 14 |
[WP] Write a horror story where the protagonist just doesn't give a fuck.
Edit: Damn, this is now my most upvoted post. Thanks for all of your responses, they've been amazing! Good for a laugh or a two on this great Friday :) | Feverish scrabbling broke the pristine morning stillness.
Alice snapped awake, bloodied baseball bat in hand. "John! John! Oh god, they're here."
"Mmf. Gimme five."
"John!" Alice gave his shoulder a rough shake.
"Okay, okay, I'll get it." John rolled out of bed and peered blinking through a crack in the boarded windows. "Bloody lurchers," he murmured, grabbing his sawed-off shotgun from where it lay on the night stand.
"How many are there?" Alice's face was pale in the morning half-light.
"Go back to sleep, Al. It's just the usual."
"What, how can I slee- " A crash and a thud echoed reverberated through the house. "The skylight - they broke the - John, what are we - they're inside -"
"I told you the double-pane would be better insulation." John sighed. "Look, I said I'll deal with it. Just, just relax."
A low moan came through barricaded bedroom door. Alice stiffened and backed up against the wall. John yawned and started to undo the first set of locks.
The last chain jingled to the ground. John darted over and gave Alice a quick peck on the cheek. "See you in a few, honey!"
---
The shotgun roared, and entrails splattered. Alone in the room, Alice murmured, "Prozac's a hell of a drug."
| "Just get out of there, fuck off..."
The shadow slowly trickled down on the floor from the closet and slowly crawled towards the bedroom door. Alex threw himself down on the bed and turned off the lights.
Soon the thumping in the stairs started, Alex slowly turned over and looked at his door, contemplating if she would even care to go and open it.
"Can't you just get over with it and leave? I have a test for tomorrow and I'm not in the mood for your silly games."
The thumping slowed down and stopped, the lights outside the door flickering. Alex sighed as she turned over and faced the wall.
"Not again...."
Alex felt the surge in her stomach as she started falling into the abyss, feeling how her face relaxed while she fell and her teeth falling out from her mouth.
She closed her eyes as she landed on a large green, sunny plain. Dreams always were her favorites, since she at least could get it over with quickly.
She ran around for a while, waiting for her alarm to wake her up in the morning. She smiled and closed her eyes as she turned her face to the sun in the sky, then she heard beeping from the distance.
She opened her eyes and looked around, she frowned as she noticed the lack of light flowing through her curtains. She stood up from the bed and looked around in the house.
Nothing.
Not a single monster in sight. Where could they be? She smiled at the thought of them finally leaving, they could not scare her anyways, there's nothing special about them, just shadows and sounds, never anything that can actually hurt her.
She felt a breath behind her neck and she just walked slowly away. The footsteps followed her to the kitchen where she turned on the lights, there the shadows would go away.
The light flickered for a second before it finally shone up the kitchen.
What did she really notice first? The broken window? The presence which did not leave?
Or the hands around her neck? | 2017-05-05T07:48:25 | 2017-05-05T07:21:53 | 21 | 12 |
[WP] You are the super villain that defeated the super hero and conquered the earth. You walk out onto your balcony to law down the law for your new subjects. You are greeted by a massive crowd and genuine cheers. | With a final explosion, Righteous Man fell from the sky, plunging two stories into the cement sidewalk. Jack Ringall stared, panting for breath. He had finally done it. He had killed Elantra’s guardian hero. Now, nobody would protect Elantra’s goody two-shoes, with their permanent smiles, their unending charity and irreprehensible lifestyle choices.
A city without crime? Without drugs? With only generosity and kindness? Jack gagged at the thought.
A crowd already gathered around the superhero’s corpse. While Righteous Man had been given powers at birth, Jack had only what he could create. Which ended up being a military exoskeleton propelled by rocket fuel and housing the latest in modern-day weaponry.
Jack grinned. One point to man. Zero points to God. He stepped off the skyscraper, fell hundreds of feet, and slammed onto the ground by Righteous Man’s dead body. “Your hero is dead!” he screamed at the startled pale faces around him. “Feast your eyes on your new God!”
And they did. They stared with such intensity that it sent chills down Jack’s spine.
“Can we smoke cigarettes now?” a voice came from the crowd.
Jack sifted through the men and women, looking for the voice, but he found none. “Uh… sure. I don’t give a shit.”
The crowd erupted in cheer and applause. Jack’s jaw fell open. He scanned every face he could find, but all were filled with jubilation, some even crying with happiness.
“Hey!” he snapped, shutting them up. “You’ll have to worship me! I demand money and precious stones… and women too!”
“So you don’t care about pre-marital intercourse?” another voice came.
“What? Why would I care about—”
Jack couldn’t even finish his sentence. He was drowned by cheer. A couple in front of him immediately locked faces. He could see their tongues dancing in each other’s mouths. He cringed and looked away.
“Stop!” he fired his cannon into the air, its boom like the crack of a whip. The crowd silenced. The disgusting couple stopped sucking each other's faces.
“You will serve my every will!" Jack roared. "You will be my slaves until you die. I will let crime rampage. The fire of my evil will spread to every home within the city.”
“But what are your thoughts on pornography?”
Jack’s breath caught. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”
A stillness settled between them. Even the birds had the decency to shut up.
Then, the same voice called out, “Guys, I think he’s good with it."
And once again, the crowd erupted in cheers.
---
---
/r/jraywang for 2+ stories a day, continuations by popular demand, and more! | First there was the scream. Then the silence.
The long colorful cape was now covering most of his body, red stains slowly seeping into the fabric. The other man in the room stood there panting, and stared blankly ahead. "It's over," he mumbled.
The battle had been long, drawn-out, and devastating. Entire districts of the city had been reduced to rubble, and the casualties had been stacked up until they all amounted to nothing more than a rising counter.
He had seen and felt what people thought of him for as long as he could remember. When he was young the long stares, feeling their eyes on him until he finally passed around the corner. As he grew older the stares had changed into quick glances, but he noticed them all. The curiosity that kids challenged him with had been nothing in comparison to the looks of disgust and fear adults gave him. He'd never been their favorite, and he vowed he would never become their favorite - rather, that he never *wanted* to be their favorite. Their shallowness, misunderstanding and prejudices had turned him into what he had become. And today he had become the victor, but he didn't feel love or happiness. All what was left was a calm, an inner silence. "It really is over", he mumbled again.
The lines had slowly blurred. Good and evil. His opponent had become as much as a tyrant as himself. What price would he pay to ensure victory for the sake of doing what was "right"? He had overheard the questions afraid citizens asked each other. "At what cost?" His own predecessor, a lesser villain, had finally been defeated, but not before the *people's champion* had crashed his aircraft right downtown in an occupied office building. Before that, the destruction of half the country's farmland. And he'd disappear again, waiting for another villain to challenge him. An invite that never went unanswered. All the people had wanted was no more super villains.
As he slowly moved over to the body he couldn't help but feel contempt. Super villain, they'd branded him, all because he wanted to put an end to the hero. The antagonist, the antonym, the evil to his good. But his escapades had finally been put to a stop.
As he took the cape from the heroes' body and walked over to the glass doors, he inhaled, and pushed them open. The mass of people that stared at him, as he displayed the cape above his head, were silent. He could see the conflict on their faces, he could feel the restlessness in the air, as they waited for him to speak. He leaned into the microphone they had placed for the victor and simply said: "I will hold myself to my promise".
An ease rippled through the crowd, and a joyous eruption of sound resonated. Men and women hugged each other, little children cheered, as he added: "No more. I'll allow you guys to elect an official. My deed is done."
He could still hear the clapping, the chants, as he left the balcony and towards silence. He'd held his promise. No more super heroes. | 2017-05-23T10:29:12 | 2017-05-23T08:53:59 | 4,846 | 1,300 |
[WP] When writing your contract, Satan misspelled his own name, causing you to sell your soul to Santa | It was, in fact, the most interesting screwup Hell ever had to sweep under the rug.
Mr. Stevenson wasn't a bad man, not at heart. He had committed no atrocities. No man lay dead by his hands. In fact, nobody had ever so much as uttered a curse in the same sentence as his name - much to the surprise of Those Who Must Keep Track. In fact, Mr. Stevenson could be considered among the most well-mannered beings to ever walk the earth.
Except, of course, for the contract.
If there was one shortcoming that Mr. Stevenson ever had, it was his intense need to help. Often this had lead him into deep trouble - sneaking contraband food to the various patients in the hospital where he worked, for instance, was among the most frequent of his crimes. But it was one innocent little girl who eventually lead him down the path of The Unholy Contract, and some sins simply cannot be undone.
Ana was five. She had big green eyes, a head full of long, patchy curls, and a smile that could melt an iceberg in the dead of winter. Ana also had a very aggressive form of bone cancer - a fact that caused Mr. Stevenson even more pain than it did to her some days. He often snuck into her room in the dead of night just to keep her company. She was never asleep - her meds never let her get more than a few hours - and so Mr. Stevenson never had much fear of waking her up.
For a time, the two were thick as thieves, sharing jokes and stories deep into the early hours. Mr. Stevenson was unwed, with no one to wait for him at home, so he had plenty of time to dedicate to keeping the little girl happy. Whenever he had the chance, he was by her side - usually under the pretense of mopping the floor beside her bed. Surely, it was the cleanest patch of tile that hospital had ever seen. But before long, Ana's illness began to catch up with her. Their runs through the hospital halls became shorter, slower. She began to tire more easily, spending more and more time in bed. But it wasn't until the day she finally had to shave her curls that Mr. Stevenson knew that all hope had gone.
It was then that he found The Contract.
The yellow parchment was found almost by accident, buried beneath a number of files fastened to his clipboard. At first, he had thought it to be nothing more than a stray slip of paper - but it was far too old for that. The ink ran dark and thick, with lines of runes scribbled into the depths of the page so deeply that he thoguht they must go all the way to the other side. It was in no language he had ever seen, yet somehow he knew every word.
That night, while Ana slept, Mr. Stevenson stole out for the first time in over a decade. He waited, shivering in the December cold, pen clutched in hands sticky with sweat. What he was waiting for, he could not say.
Then, He appeared.
Surely, that time should have been the end of Mr. Stevenson. The Contract had come to him, and he had sought its aid just the same knowing full well its price. He would never see the girl again - of that, he was certain. Yet, through some twist of fate, he lived.
Perhaps he was simply lucky, or perhaps the old demon still had a shred of grace in his withered heart, but instead of the Dark Lord's sigil, there was merely a name: Santa, ruler of the North, had been invoked in the old beast's place.
The monster cursed, vowing to tear the man's throat from his flesh, but he stopped short just before the talons struck. There was another there, appearing as if from nowhere. The man in red scolded the beast, though somehow not as unkindly as might be thought. The deal was done, after all - he could not prey on another's soul. Mr. Stevenson was saved, and the devil vanished in a sulfurous cloud of smoke.
With one last look back, as if to catch a glimpse of the girl, the wise old elf guided them forward. It would not be so bad, he said. There was always need of more hands at the Pole. And perhaps - if he was lucky - he would get to see her again.
With a flick of a cherry-red nose, the two men vanished and were no more.
| "It is done," The man in the suave suit coos in his silk-smooth voice, he waves his hand and the contract disappears in a puff of smoke. "Your love's cancer is gone, Mr. Reeves. She will live a long, happy, life. You though, well... a deal is a deal. Come along."
Mr. Reeves, an accountant who generally did not partake in demonic summonings, nodded in resignation of his fate. The devil disappeared from the tiny apartment, but Mr. Reeves himself did not. In a moment of awkward confusion the middle aged man looked around, thinking perhaps for a second he was free. And then the next second wondering if this was just the start of his own personal hell- trapped in the apartment forever... and then the second after THAT the devil reappeared with a cross look on his face.
"Generally that goes better," he says while running a hand through slicked black hair, "Alright one more time, but now you first..."
He points his fingers and nothing happens. Mr. Reeves interjects with a very useful, "Um..."
"No," Satan holds up a hand, "Let me just... review the paperwork."
The contract reappears, he runs his eyes over it mumbling to himself as he does so, then with a sharp intake of breath followed by a drawn out exhale the contract disappears and the devil rubs his temples. "Not again..."
"Is... is there an issue?"
"Well, it's just, I've got these demons that do my contracts for me, sort of like your world's interns, yes? And well, sometimes- very rarely, to be fair- they make mistakes."
"Mistakes?"
"Yes, well, you see... we happen to have sold your soul over to Santa," He says in a hesitant voice, very much unlike his earlier oily voice. Then his voice darkens, "He's coming."
"Santa? Like Santa Clause? Jolly Old Saint Nick?" Mr. Reeves struggles to understand the situation.
The devil just shakes his head and disappears, but the moment before he does in a low, sorrowful, voice he says, "I'm so sorry."
Then once again Mr. Reeves is alone in his apartment, but this time far more confused than even the last time.
That's when he hears the bells.
Within seconds they grow from a faint tinkle to a full on crescendo- and in a blast of green and red sparkles the man himself appears in the room. He is everything capitalist culture had made him out to be... red coat with white fuzz, sock cap, big white beard and all- but unlike popular culture he stands at least ten feet tall. His head bent to avoid hitting the ceiling as he looks down at Mr. Reeves. And there is joy in his otherwise cold, blue eyes, but that joy is anything but jolly as the mountainous figure reaches out and grabs Mr. Reeves by the arm.
Before he can even let out a cry at the crushing, vice-like, grip Mr. Reeves is pulled into a dizzy blur of motion- all of the room's colors seem to blend together at once, and when they unblend he is in a completely different place entirely.
It's what can only be Santa's Workshop. He stands on a raised catwalk that looks out over seemingly endless rows of benches, tables, and conveyor belts. But it is not a happy place- the lights are dim, the air is cold but also heavy and thick, and despite the massive amount of workers down below the space is silent aside from the whir of machines. And then there's the workers themselves.
They're dressed like elves, but they are all very much full grown adults. People just like himself- Mr. Reeves made with a sinking realization. And as he looked down at himself his fears were confirmed, his plain polo and khakis had been replaced with a lime green, form fitting top, and an even tighter set of matching pants. With a bright red belt suffocating him in between.
"What a fine contract," A deep voice boomed, Santa was looking over the same piece of paper that the devil himself had written (or had his interns do so) and he was smiling. "Your eternal soul. That means forever."
"Um yes... so..."
"Lucifer is generally kinder to his wards than I am," Ho. Ho. Ho. The iconic chuckles has a menacing tone as Santa Clause takes Mr. Reeves by the arm and begins to lead him to the workshop below. They arrive at an empty workbench- Mr. Reeves is proped on a tiny uncomfortable stool, and then promptly has his ankle chained to it as Old Saint Nick, towering over him, says to him in a voice that starts out as a light chortle, but ends as a deep- beast-like growl, "Now, Mr. Reeves, get to work."
| 2017-06-15T21:31:59 | 2017-06-15T21:29:16 | 220 | 38 |
[WP] Satan finds amusement out of making contracts with sinners stating that if they complete a ridiculously impossible task, such as counting every hair on their body, they are allowed to return to Earth. A sinner has just completed a ridiculous task. | People always picture hell as a dark and dreary place where the only light comes from constantly burning fires. This is true. Except those burning flames are feeding on garbage, and it's the smell more than the heat that gets you. Because the garbage isn't just regular trash, it's biohazard - mostly hospital waste.
Satan gets it all from the earthly oceans, where it is dumped by humans from every country in the world. Those charged with finding this waste are the luckiest damned souls in hell. For if you can find a needle that was ever used on you by an earth doctor, you can escape eternal punishment.
"Talk about a needle in a haystack, eh Jones?"
"Whaddya want Miller, I'm working here", said the blue crab to the large lobster as they were digging through a trash heap somewhere in the south pacific.
"Did you ever think you'd come back as a crab after you died? Come to think of it, the crabs we ate when we were alive, do you think some of them were..you know, like we are now?"
"Spawns of hell?" said Jones. "Who knows? Shut up and help me dig through this pile, you've got bigger claws."
"Yowtch," screamed Miller. Stuck to his big claw was a bright shining needle.
"I found one. I finally found one. A needle in the biggest haystack in the world - the freakin ocean! Wait, isn't something supposed to happen now? Why am I still here?"
"You're supposed to find a needle that was used on you, idiot" said Jones. "Here let me get that off you."
"So you're saying I got stuck for nothing? Damn." said Miller, waving his big claw towards Jones.
"Watch out!", shouted Jones. But it was too late. The needle had come off Miller's claw and punctured Jones' beady crab eye.
And Jones vanished. When he came to, he was in a familiar place. The walls were white, and he could smell the most heavenly food. There were men wearing tall hats, hurrying about their business, talking to each other. He could hear them, understand them. He was definitely not under water or in hell.
"I'm...I'm back on Earth. Real Earth. Dry land, a room" he said.
He felt a slight pressure on his back.
"No..noo" he screamed as a large hairy hand ripped off his shell and tossed his body in boiling water. The last thought that crossed his mind was realizing that for those who escaped, Satan had ensured a little bit of hell on earth. Just in case they got homesick.
**************************************
Read more from me at [/r/wordsyrup](https://www.reddit.com/r/wordsyrup/) | "**How?**" The dumbfounded face of the Devil. Just like his subordinate beyond the door and the subordinate before that. I smile in satisfaction, knowing that I bested the dominion of Hell at their own game. Victory is sweet.
"Humans are smarter than you think, you know,." Blood drips unto the floor, but no one in the room seem to mind. They are the same colour, after all.
The devil shakes his head and chuckles. He pushes himself up from his seat, his hand coming together in a slow clap. It does not feel not right. This is supposed to be my redemption, but why do I feel like I have just been swindled?
The crimson red eyes of the Devil stare at me and it feels like my soul is burning. "**So you think you have won, mortal?**"
I nod. The blood is still dripping. Perhaps in death, your blood flow does not stop. I do not know. All I know is that I have succeeded in the task that was given. But it does not dull the pain. My right hand reaches out instinctively to what remains of left hand. "You promised me a return to earth."
"**Yes I did. Yes I did. And the prince of darkness is someone who keeps his bargain.**" He snaps his finger and a demon appears beside him. A gate watcher. Demons responsible for the transit between Hell and anywhere else.
"**This man has succeeded in his task. As promised, he shall be allowed to make return to earth.**" The watcher grunts and flies towards me. Its eyes wander between my left hand and the stump on my left body. My clothes is damp with blood now.
The watcher draws a circle using its hand and a portal appears in between it. Beyond the portal, see the Gates of Hell, and the path leading back to earth.
"That's it?" I turn back to the devil. "You're just gonna let me go like that?"
"**Yes. I asked you to do a task, and you accomplished it. So go.**"
I then turn to my hand on the floor. There is a small puddle of red around me now. I cannot go back to earth in this state.
"Will you fix this then?" I gesture at my hand and the blood.
The devil laughs. "**Of course not! I merely asked you to lick your elbow with your tongue. It was you who chose to cut it off. And when you're dead, everything stays permanent.**"
The laughter stops and his crimson eyes move back to me. "**Now go,**" he whispers, and a strong wind pushes me into the portal and sealing it shut as soon as I pass it, leaving my left hand behind in the Devil's palace.
I guess at least I am going back to earth, I console myself, as the darkness consumes me.
----------------------
*Can you lick your elbow? More tales at /r/dori_tales!*
| 2017-08-03T07:49:18 | 2017-08-03T07:17:15 | 64 | 36 |
[WP] It's been seven years since the global blackout. You get home from a hard day at work and In a forgetful moment you flick the light switch to find that your lights turn on. You look outside and the world is still in complete darkness . | At this point, we don’t need the light.
The children will never know the light, and we will never forget it. It’s better this way, they said, if we just adapt to the dark. They were, for the most part, right.
However, some jobs can’t be done in the dark. Some people cannot live in the dark. So, in the dark for so many long, long years, those people are gone, and with them sophisticated society as we know it.
They couldn’t bear the pain, and gave up. We cannot. I cannot.
Now, me. I’m just average at best, not that that matters anymore, normal looks, normal height, positively normal in every normal way. However, fate deigned to give me a wife, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And so, when fate then acquiesced to give me two lovely, perfect children, who was I to disagree?
Well, as that same fate chose for me, for us, they were but a few months old, and just barely old enough to be brought back home, and everything just... shut off.
The lights were gone. The lights, and with them, all power, all energy. I later learned that it was the effect of nuclear winter, with the ash blocking out nigh all light, visible and invisible. But did that matter to me? No.
The children were all that mattered. They deserved life, they deserved to learn, to play, to fail.
In the darkness, we all learned the true meaning of nature versus nurture. Instinctively, they opened their eyes, and screamed at the darkness. We had to teach them that this absolute void of light was normal.
It broke both of our hearts, and blinded us to the suffering of others, and of ourselves. Devoted wholeheartedly to keeping the children comfortable and as happy as possible, I worked myself to exhaustion, doing whatever menial task people would pay me for, in money, food, anything I could use.
So, after a long day of work, doing nothing productive and less important, I came home. As I have for every day of the last 7 years, I fumbled blindly with the door, gave my wife a kiss, hugged the children, and sat down to relax. Like every day, nothing interesting happened, and even less productive.
It’s time for bed now, and as I step into the bedroom we share, I lapse in memory and remember the light. The beautiful, shining, harsh light. The light years, nearly a decade, gone. The light, which I took for granted. I can’t help but try the light switch.
It works.
I can’t believe my eyes. The beautiful, golden light, that which society has evolved to have no need of, the light of the sun, is in my bedroom. My wife looks to me, scared, seeing for the first time in so long. I look back at her, and I wish we could stay that way forever, just looking. However, we both understand what has to be done.
____________________________________________________
The next morning, I’ve slashed all of the wires after tripping the breaker. It’s for them, we say.
It’s for them. | I stumbled up the stairs in weary fatigue, my back was a burden on itself; making me slump forward and drag my feet up the dark and shadowed steps out of habit and routine of my everyday cycle rather than out of conscious will.
I reached my door and turned the knob, the creak of the hinges, originally the source of my grinding teeth, now was a reminder of solitary comfort in a world gone dark, its creaking hinges as brittle as old bones was a pathetic reminder that I was home as I was every night.
*It's dark,* I thought, the exhaustion dragging my mind back to the days when the world still had power, when electricity flowed through every outlet and every wire like blood through veins, powering the city. Now they were vestigial relics of lost days, usable only for the perching of birds or as furniture and toys for kids.
I flipped the switch, the exhaustion reminding me of a day when the bright orange glow of that buzzing lamp on my skin was a thing of comfort, pathetic in sight, hanging from the roof in its singular glory, but none-the-less a warm glowing comfort at the end of hard worked days.
The light remained lost, and embarrassing realisation washed over me. I allowed myself a humoured and ironic puff of air through smiling lips, taking comfort in no one having seen my subconscious reaching for nostalgia, something that was mocked and frowned upon nowadays, yet everyone did it, trying to fumble through the darkened world in search for a thread that lead us back to the golden ages.
My eyes winced in agony, closing shut in an instant and clenched tight with lock and key, forbidding me to determine the source of the blazing discomfort turned agony.
Soon the pain dissipated, I turned my hand away from my eyes and blinked the blurred vision away as my eyes focused on the beautiful light dangling just a few feet in front and above me.
I had forgotten the sensation, the glow it had. Perhaps there was a time when it would not only seem unremarkable but pathetic, its attempts at chasing away the shadows, meager.
I flipped the switch once more, the light gone, my jaw still refused to return to its proper location and my eyes refused to forget the sight before it.
Once more with shaking fingers I flipped the switch, the light returned instantly.
Off.
On.
Off.
On.
I chuckled in amazement, the action needing time to remember what it was like, then turning to an even more alien laugh.
I turned around to see who was there to celebrate this with.
Fear struck me through the heart; burning a hurt hotter than the bulb buzzing in and out of life.
I turned the light bulb off immediately, clutching my hand and pulling it away to stop any possibility of turning it on again.
*Did anyone see?* I wondered. Through the stained and broken windows of my balcony. *Of course they did.* I tried desperately to convince myself no one saw it, that I was safe. A few moments of comfort at the thought of not being hunted worth more than the possibility that a horde of humans would swarm into my room.
They would have no reason for doing it, would they ask questions? Would they murder each other for the one bulb?
But I knew the truth, they had no reason to come for the bulb, it was simply a beacon in a world covered in a blanket of darkness, and they would come to it like moths to a kindling flame.
And then it hit me.
*There will be no other bulb like this,* I thought, *it will be made holy, and everyone will visit from all over the world. I brought light into the world once more.*
*I will be their new God.* | 2017-09-08T04:36:08 | 2017-09-08T03:11:27 | 263 | 48 |
[WP] Finally, the ultimate MMORPG has been created, unlimited choice and room to grow and expand your character. There's just one issue, it's so realistic, nobody can remember which life they are living, and which is the game. | We, the awestruck faction members, stood around him. We saw a man, once glorious and proud, withering away under the green glow of fluorescent hospital lights. The man who vanquished the great beast of Velenforth, with nothing but an iron sword. The same man who bested countless foul creatures, who looted and explored more of the 9 realms than any man before him, now knocked on the door of death. Grog the Plunderer was his name.
In one last act of willpower and defiance Grog raised his fist in the air. A thin and shaking pillar of lost strength. For a moment he felt as if his Hospital gown turned into the glistening plate that protected him from so many a foe. His grey, fragile hands were once again filled with blood, color and youth.
He slipped away just then, clinging to the glory of his younger days.
It was then that the "faction members" paid their respects and went back to work. One mopped the floors in the hall, the other went back to the front desk, and the third put his scrubs back on for a long night shift.
The MMO had taken over the lives of so many that acting like faction members was part of the everyday routine. When the old and frail became too weak to take the stress of the video game they came back to reality lost and delusional. The world they had spent years of their time in was out of reach.
It would be too unsettling for them to live the lives of warriors, champions, and mages just to come back to reality and die the death of a meager old RPG gamer.
So we, the faction members, would come in every night. Dressed as squires, mail clad warriors and bards. To give the life long gamers the send off that they so proudly earned in game.
I pulled out my pen. Time to make it official.
*time of death- 8:12 PM, August 3rd, 2043.*
**Grog the Plunderer** aka Tim Chadwick, had fallen
| Rifts opening up everywhere... Jake needed to move quick. No time to mourn or to wonder if he even should mourn. So much of his memory had been knocked loose. That ray must've boggled his mind more than he realized at first. sprinting to the next house over, something inside told him that it had some guns inside, maybe he could find a fist kit too. "The hell was his name?" he whispered to himself, just to break the eerie silence. Trying to remember his neighbor's name seemed fruitless. Moving in the cover of night, skin crawling as he listens for any sound beyond his heartbeat. Looking along the back of the house and seeing an open window, Jake crept along. the lack of electricity in this moment seemed to be his best advantage. Once directly below the opening, he looked out into the inky blackness, straining to hear anything...
whumph whomph whumph whomph Nothing else but his heartbeat... Leaping up he quickly shimmied into the window, never having been very dexterous in the first place he landed with a thud and the wind knocked out of him. Getting to his feet quickly, as he heard something stir in the next room. grabbing the first thin he could lay hands on a toilet lid he readied himself to attack. The door swung open and in the sudden candle light that poured in, he saw the blast of the muzzle. Just as his hands came apart with the impact of the shotgun slug, he tried to gasp his surprise...
"HOME INVADER GUNNED DOWN BY GAMER"
During the blackout last night an avid gamer wearing an Augmented Reality headset was shot down, by no less than his neighbor who at the time of the black out was ALSO playing the latest AR game to hit the market, Dog Eat Dog;Survive it all. Both parties not realizing that their local electrical transformer having been hit by lighting had cause a pulse wave in their plugged in AR headsets. Causing confusion and a sort of delirium state. The publishers KyteDog Unlimited, has realeased a statement lament this unfortunate incident. Still embroiled in a class action lawsuit, there PR department is likely working overtime to spin control the damages nationwide as this incident in NOT the first...
(Thanks for reading, first serious attempt at a writing prompt. Hope you enjoyed, please leave feed back if theres any notes you'd like to share! Have a great day!)
| 2018-02-19T08:53:15 | 2018-02-19T08:44:15 | 331 | 43 |
[WP] Your entire life, you've been told you're deathly allergic to bees. You've always had people protecting you from them, be it your mother or a hired hand. Today, one slips through and lands on your shoulder. You hear a tiny voice say "Your Majesty, what are your orders?" | "What? Who said that?", I asked, startled.
"It izz me, Buzzter, your humble servant, sire! Might I take this opportunity to say that it is such an honor to speak with you directly!" said the annoying voice.
That's when I noticed that the source of the strange voice was a bee, right there on my shoulder. As someone who has been told to stay away from bees all my life, for ungodly things would happen if I so much as touch one, I was scared half to death.
"Aaaah! Get off me, get off me!"
"Fear not, my king! I mean you no harm!", said Buzzter as he got off me and spoke hovering from a distance. I took a moment to collect myself and, since I thought a speaking insect was pretty cool, allowed the bee to have its say.
"It seems you have been deceived and brainwashed like we suspected."
"Huh?"
"There isn't much time; they'll be here any second.", he said, and then proceeded to sting me.
"No no no no, don't! Please!", I yelled, but he had already stung me. I feared the worst, but it caused no pain, and healed within seconds. I have seen quite a few people in immense pain after being stung, so this took me completely by surprise. I looked at Buzzter the bee in astonishment. Before buzzing away, he said: "If I have gained your trust, come to the bee hive on the third tree in the park two blocks from your home, and come alone. Just say 'I seek my minions' out loud to seek us out. The fate of all bees relies upon your actions, my king!"
Just a second later, my mother opened the door to my room. "What's wrong, son? I heard shouting."
"Nothing, mom" I replied, "Rashford missed another shot at goal!".
"Huh, you and your football!" she said as she left and closed the door.
I couldn't sleep that night, and my curiosity got the better of me, so I sneaked out and I made my way to the park. There was, indeed, a bee hive on the third tree from the park entrance, but lighting was dim and I doubted if I would be able to see the bees even if they did come. I said out loud: "I seek my minions!"
Immediately, five matchsticks floating in the air lit up. I realized they were not floating, but were being held up by bees, like torches. Then I recognized Buzzter. "Your Majesty, so good you came!".
"Umm... yeah... the thing is... I really don't know what..."
"I apologize deeply for interrupting you, your Majesty, but it appears you have been made to believe that you are allergic to us. Is that correct?"
"Yeah."
"Those treacherous fiends! They have deceived everyone!"
"Who are we talking about here?"
"My apologies! I will let our great storyteller/narrator bee, Morgan Beeman, to tell you the great story of the bees!"
"Greetings, your Majesty" said Morgan Beeman, and started with the story...
"Long ago, all species of bees lived in harmony in their respective ecosystems, and produced honey in peace. The biggest nuisance was the occasional bear who would attack for honey, but the hive would be rebuilt and harmony restored. However, beedom would encounter an enormous threat to its well being - the threat of humans! The humans, inherently greedy mammals who claim supremacy on this planet even though our absence would set in motion events that would lead to their doom in a short span of time, are greedy bastards. Their greed for honey lead them to steal from us on a massive scale, causing irreparable destruction and death and figure out ways to capture and enslave our beeple in concentration camps to produce honey for their wants! But there was a ray of hope for us, in the form of a prophecy! The prophecy foretold: 'The human who is not affected by the bee's sting will be the liberator of beedom!' And so we started to sting human children, and then finally found you, when you were stung as a child!"
"But... my parents told my I had a severe allergic reaction... I was too young to remember so I had to believe them."
"Your parents cut a deal with the evil ones." said Morgan Beeman. "The ones who profit from the enslavement of our beeple! The honey industry! Your parents accepted a vast sum of money for their involvement in keeping you from us! Money that they have reserved for your college education. With one command, you can stop every bee on Earth from working to produce honey. The honey industry knows this, which is why they have gone to extreme lengths to deny us contact. To deny you your birthright to be the king of all beeple and beedom as a whole! We are merely your servants, your Majesty, and hope that you will do what is best for us. Your word is our law... your will, our destiny..."
Moved by the bees' plight, and by Morgan Beeman's incredible narration and storytelling, I take a deep breath, and say:
"Let's take these honey industry bastards on!"
| "Your majesty, what are your orders?"
You can't think straight. Is this really happening? Is this what madness feels like? It feels so... loud. You can't escape it. You can't breathe. The buzzing spreads across every sense, as if all of reality is vibrating.
It was easy to ignore at first. You have always been able to focus on a task, zone out, enter that trance-like state of flow. The outside world fading away, no sound entering your head, not even your own thoughts. Exercise used to be your favorite meditation. Used to be.
The sun is screaming at you. The birds are competing to be heard above it and you can't decide which to try to block out first. You used to love to run in nature, as far away from city streets and smog as you could get in your urban lifestyle. Now you're surrounded by hard cement, flashing cars, and constant noise, but you still can't escape.
It started with just a few collisions. An interesting intersection, a cute coincidence. You'd go out for your run and start to count just how many times a bee would fly into you. It's just a little bee, right? They never stung you, they never landed. But it was impossible to ignore the fuzzy little impacts, the way they'd bounce off of you harmlessly, the way you could feel the vibration. The harder you pushed yourself to run, the more you focused, the less you were able to maintain that focus, as bee after bee would bump into you, always on your exposed skin. Maybe they hit you elsewhere and you didn't notice, but the staccato sideswipes at your skin would tear at your concentration until you had to stop.
You started avoiding the forest trails, the open fields. The more that you ran among the streets and smog, the less you'd run into the bees. They didn't like the cities, the sounds or the electricity or something else drove them mad. Maybe the Wi-Fi. It drove you mad, how can you even be thinking this, to feel it with such certainty, to empathize with it. With them.
Bzz.
"Your majesty, what are your orders?"
You try to run faster. It's all in your head, no one can help you overcome this but you. Can't give them any more attention. It's just your subconscious acting up and you have to shut it down. Water only the plants that you want to grow, or something like that.
That's what you try to tell yourself, but there's a group of bees circling you, keeping pace with your run as your strain yourself to your maximum speed. You had tried to hide indoors, but it's even more unnerving being trapped inside with bees. How did so many of them get inside? Why did you find so many dead bees everywhere you went, as if your attention were forced on them? Even worse, you knew what they wanted.
"You're killing us. You're killing everything. We don't just make honey, we pollinate. You're going to end the cycle of life on the planet. You must help us. You must stop them." You had heard the spiel so many times that it came through in your dreams. You avoided being still outside now, as one of the drones would surely find you and whisper the message in your ear.
Why you? You were always an outsider, there was a reason you preferred the forests and fields in the first place. You never fully engaged with your society, you had no power or money or weapons. You ran because that was one of the only things that made sense to you.
You certainly weren't a bee, right? A madman maybe, finally cracking from too much isolation. Or one of those gas leaks or something in the water, causing psychosis and hallucinations, something the government would have to bury to prevent widespread panic. Breathe. Count your footfalls. Maintain your stride.
Who should you side with? Your species? Your delusions? You'd be ostracized for telling anyone you knew anything that you've experienced recently. You're not even sure it's real yourself, it's easier to pretend that it's all just an overactive imagination. Or, it was, until the bees followed you indoors, followed you everywhere you went. You can see the swarm around your body in the reflections of the glass windows all around you, every surface gleaming the screaming sun back at you, constant uncomfortable reminders that you can't avoid it. Them. The... bees.
You've been circling the same running path for days now, something vague attracting you to the area. Always spiraling closer and closer to the local power station. You aren't a civil engineer but you can guess that a serious power outage could be bad news for your city. And if it was timed with others... You don't know how it would help the bees or the cycle of life or the planet, but you have a feeling that you'd know what to do when the time comes. If you let it.
"We're in position and ready for the revolution. Mother Nature will be defended. We will revitalize the cycle of life. We will restore the natural balance to the planet. We will save them, even as they are destroying us, destroying themselves, destroying their only home. We are ready when you are."
You could feel the buzzing in your skull, in your jaw, in every bone and tooth.
"Your Majesty, what are your orders?"
If you decide to accept your role and lead the bees in an equalizing attack against humanity, turn to page 33.
If you decide to ignore the voices and admit yourself into a mental hospital due to delusions, turn to page 52. | 2022-01-01T21:17:01 | 2018-04-01T04:52:35 | 4,502 | 16 |
[WP] You can taste lies. One day your friend is comforting you after a tough night and you almost vomit at the foul taste as you hear her say "After all, you're only human." | So it turns out I'm not human. To be frank, I wasn't surprised when upon that fateful day my friend's words turned to ashes in my mouth, almost choking me with their utmost falseness. After all, humans can't taste lies, so the obvious answer was that I wasn't human. Still it wasn't exactly the most comforting thing to realize as I sat there, tears streaming down my face the night my boyfriend had left me. It had been a long day of bad tastes, and this wasn't nearly the worst of them. All in all not being human wasn't so bad.
And it did present some unique opportunities. After I'd kicked my friend out of my house and moped around a little, I realized something. Despite not being too surprised at the knowledge that I was some kind of inhuman freak, it wasn't as if I'd explicitly known beforehand. That meant my ability to taste a lie wasn't limited by my own perception of what was and was not the truth. An idea started to form in my head.
So it was that I found myself sitting upon a stage, cheesy 90's gameshow music playing as Chris Tarrant, host of *Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?* sat across from me. I'd been asked question after question, and after each one I'd spoken something along the lines of, "Well, it must be the Propylaea ... but no, wait, of course not, perhaps the Acropolis? Yes, the Acropolis."
It had been a foul tasting day, and yet it would soon be my sweetest. Things were looking up. | Synesthesia. A neurological phenomenon in which the afflicted party has overlapping sensory experiences. For example, my friend Joanna sees words as having colors. Apparently synesthesia is fuschia colored. She's made use of this to become a renowned artist.
That's not to say I'm a synesthete. Not at all. It's just the closest thing I know to what I experience. I can taste your lies. Every little falsehood lingers on the tip of my tongue.
When you told me this dress looked good on me, the sourness spread through my mouth. Like an out of season musk melon. I hate melons. Every brunch fruit bowl has way too many damn melons.
"She's only a friend." I could feel the bile rising in my throat. This was so much more bitter, an acrid poison in my heart and my mouth.
"It's not you, it's me." Do you know what you've done to me? It's like you've forced my mouth open and shoved my head in a torrid pile of shit. This is inhumane. I can't take it anymore.
When it rains it pours. It seems like a torrential downpour without end, a proverbial flood that will drown me in sorrow and squeamishness. This is the worst thing I've ever tasted.
Then Joanna told me, "It's ok to cry. After all, you're only human."
Oh God. I can't... What even is this? It's as if someone has fed me a fetid durian filled to the brim with rotting maggots. It's violating me. Squirming against the roof of my mouth, ripping my tongue apart. Hueggghh. Hurrrk. I think I'm going to be sick.
I'm a monster. Something unworthy of love. Inhuman. Despicable. But I'm superior. An evolved being. And I'll never be hurt this way again.
| 2018-05-12T05:25:13 | 2018-05-12T05:13:37 | 1,793 | 752 |
[WP] After getting a girlfriend, a man discovers that he now has a very powerful superpower: everything he says, no matter how factual and true, is wrong. | The group of friends were sat around a fire under a sky full of stars. One man, stepping quietly away from the party, found a place where he could be alone. He looked up at the Milky Way.
"When you consider how vast and great the universe is, I'm just worthless, aren't I?" he sighed.
His friend, who had known him for many years, stepped up beside him, putting her hand on his shoulder.
There was something different about her. He could see something had changed, the way she was looking at him.
"Well, that's not true. You mean something to me." | It's been a long time since I've spoken aloud. It first started when I meet Jess, I really thought it was just her, I never new it was changing the entire universe.
I said the earth was a globe floating in space once a few years ago, now every planet is flat and it even changed the laws of physics.
I know telling you of this will change the truth of my universe again.
Everything I've said was true as one point, to me at least.
Ever wonder why the smartest minds always have a new way to explain the same old things, now you know, it was the truth at one point until someone like me opened their big mouth.
There are perks, I can say someone hates me to get love. If I say I have lots of bills and they go away.
...
Edited: spelling
| 2018-09-06T09:28:27 | 2018-09-06T09:04:08 | 265 | 20 |
[WP] You were bitten by a radioactive human. You became Human-man. | It doesn't sound like much, really: does whatever a human can. But then you realize, some humans can pull planes and trains. Some humans can catch arrows. Some humans can do complex math in their heads. Some humans can juggle chainsaws. You see, it isn't just what the average human can do. I combine all the peak abilities of humanity. If one man can do it, I can do it. If one man knows it, I know it. I don't need any medical treatments. As long as there was one good liver, one good heart, one of any organ, I'm set.
It made it easy to take over. I was able to say the right things, push the right buttons, to get people doing what I want. I started by shutting down the lab that gave me my powers. I didn't want them falling into the wrong hands, after all. Then I started changing the way people viewed things. Built the drive for self improvement, for focused study. I got people to organize, worldwide, and our discoveries started advancing like never before. Before the decade was out, we had interstellar travel. We had solved the issues of aging, bacterial and viral infections, cancer, such that death only came if some accident destroyed your body so you died before a first aid kit could be used. And since we had inertial dampeners you could clip to your sleeve, those accidents were very rare. I'd initiated breeding programs, to maximize certain traits. I produced a group of humans who were cared for, but incredibly flawed. They were only alive to be the strongest, or fastest, or any other superlative I wanted, and none of their other traits mattered.
I found that I could breed to shift the spectrum of light people saw, so while they only saw in shades of infrared or ultraviolet, I got to see it all. Some people have different types of cones in their eyes, allowing them to see more colors. It was when I realized this that I got an idea, and a question. What makes something human? How far can I push hybrid genetics before I don't get the abilities? Could I get the eyes of a Mantis shrimp? The nose of a turkey vulture?
I'm working on that now. I won't stop until humans are the best that they can be, so I'm they best that I can be.
| “Where is he?!”
“He was supposed to be here at 5, Mr. President.”
The door opened slowly. A man in a creepily entered the room, his gaze fixed on both the President and Vice-President.
“Sorry I’m late. I started looking at my phone before getting ready.”
“That’s OK, Human-Man,” said the President, offering a seat to the superhero. “Please, let me brief you on the issue.”
Human-Man spun three times before taking to the seat, almost losing his balance and having to grip the table in front of him in order not to fall. His Samsung Galaxy Note 8 falling out his pocket on to the floor.
“Is it cracked?” he asked as the Vice President bent to pick up the phone.
“I’m afraid so, Human-Man,” said the Vice President, handing the phone over using both hands to carry it’s small inanimate body.
“That’s OK,” said Human-Man, taking his seat and phone. “I have the Note 9 on pre-order and it comes out in a couple of days. Also, the phone screen was already cracked before I dropped it just now. I was being hilarious.”
“Human-Man this is the most boring conversation ever,” said the President. “It’s clear your powers are still strong.”
“And growing stronger,” said Human-Man. “With a solid 8 hours sleep I’m able to do things you can only imagine if you try a little bit.”
“Shall we tell him?” asked the Vice President.
“Yes,” said the President, his eyes dropping towards his desk. “It’s my daughter, Human-Man.”
“Fiona.”
The President’s eyes rose from the table to meet Human-Man’s, “But, you have only met once, I can’t have mentioned her name more than twice.”
“Remember not to doubt me, sir. Since the bite, I’ve been able to remember most of the names of the people I meet.”
“Raw power,” muttered the Vice President under his breath.
“But alas, tell me the issue with your daughter. I’m here to help,” said Hero-Man, able to not awkwardly fix his pants even though they were uncomfortable.
“She … she has an issue with her computer. It’s broken,” said the President, raising from his chair, turning his back from Human-Man to look out the large window behind him. “All the icons on the desktop are super big and the colours are inverted.”
“I’ll take a look at it.”
****
I write shitty, silly stories on /r/BillMurrayMovies. Feel free to come along, not laugh at any of them and leave some judgement.
| 2018-09-19T08:10:33 | 2018-09-19T08:05:08 | 230 | 64 |
[WP] The DM hands you the paper. You're just dropping in for the one session, but you know your role. The sheet says you're level 6, but you've got surprises. You have a mission: take out the DM's most-hated player. Well, their fun-killing Paladin, anyway. You're a hired gun. A Character Assassin. | I smooth over the character sheet and as far as I could tell everything about it was good to go.
It was an assassin named Garret with lots of poisons, weapons and enough damage to put down most other characters in one or two rounds of combat. It wasn’t the most optimised character I’ve ever seen but it would be fine for the purpose it was built for.
A purpose that I didn’t agree with.
Not anymore.
“This isn’t a good idea.” I told the DM.
“Just kill him when you get the chance, it’ll be easy.”
“I’m sure it will be.” Considering how sneak attacks worked in this game, I was being truthful.
“Just wait a minute, scope him out and drop him.”
“That’s not what I do anymore.”
“What are you going to do then?”
“Not kill him.”
“What? But why?”
Instead of answering his question I simply folded the character sheet that he had given me and placed it back onto the table.
“Why are you a DM?”
“What do you mean?”
“I want to know why you play as a DM.”
“Because no one else wanted to be.”
“Are you having fun?”
“I mean… sometimes? It’s the paladin’s fault!”
“Have you spoken to him?" I asked. "Like an adult?”
“No, he wouldn’t listen to me anyways.”
“So you’ve tried and failed?”
“No but I know it wouldn’t work.” I sighed at his reasoning but moved on, choosing a different line of questioning.
“So assuming I kill this guy’s character, what makes you think the game will become fun then?”
“I just… it used to be fun when he wasn’t playing.”
"You think he'll just leave after his character dies?"
"I'll just boot him! Tell him that it's a one life game or something."
"And for some reason you can't do this while his character is still alive?"
"I... I figure it might make him quit if his character dies." Was there history behind the two of them? I couldn't tell, I needed more information. Honestly it just sounded like the DM was trying to justify his own terrible behavior.
"So why don't you like him anyways?"
“He keeps slowing things down, keeps trying to steer the players to his way of doing things.”
“So is that the player or the character then?”
“I mean, it’s both isn’t it?”
I stood up, pushing the chair away from myself.
“Talk to him, get back to me after.” I paused, considering my next words. “But not before you actually talk to him okay?”
“I still want him dead.”
“And that’s why you aren’t having fun.” I told him reaching the door. "You have to ask yourself if what you're doing is still a hobby or if it's turned into something else."
"You can't just walk away!"
I left closing the door behind me. Judging by his harsh shouting the DM I noted wasn't one to not have his way, not without a fit at least. Maybe it wasn't the paladin at fault, maybe they were both jerks, either way I had another visit to make.
| I'm a bot, *bleep*, *bloop*. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:
- [/r/dnd] [Is it me or does this just sound like a great idea?](https://www.reddit.com/r/DnD/comments/aiil4d/is_it_me_or_does_this_just_sound_like_a_great_idea/)
- [/r/rpg_brasil] [\[WP\] The DM hands you the paper. You're just dropping in for the one session, but you know your role. The sheet says you're level 6, but you've got surprises. You have a mission: take out the DM's most-hated player. Well, their fun-killing Paladin, anyway. You're a hired gun. A Character Assassin.](https://www.reddit.com/r/rpg_brasil/comments/ain5cr/wp_the_dm_hands_you_the_paper_youre_just_dropping/)
- [/r/rpghorrorstories] [Doesn‘t really belong heree, but maybe you like it](https://www.reddit.com/r/rpghorrorstories/comments/ail8us/doesnt_really_belong_heree_but_maybe_you_like_it/)
- [/r/rpghorrorstories] [So this is a writing prompt they're not real stories but I think this is something we have wished we could do to some of our problem players XD](https://www.reddit.com/r/rpghorrorstories/comments/amgzxr/so_this_is_a_writing_prompt_theyre_not_real/)
- [/r/u_beardsonfire] [\[WP\] The DM hands you the paper. You're just dropping in for the one session, but you know your role. The sheet says you're level 6, but you've got surprises. You have a mission: take out the DM's most-hated player. Well, their fun-killing Paladin, anyway. You're a hired gun. A Character Assassin.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_BeardsOnFire/comments/aijsdd/wp_the_dm_hands_you_the_paper_youre_just_dropping/)
- [/r/u_personusername] [\[WP\] The DM hands you the paper. You're just dropping in for the one session, but you know your role. The sheet says you're level 6, but you've got surprises. You have a mission: take out the DM's most-hated player. Well, their fun-killing Paladin, anyway. You're a hired gun. A Character Assassin.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_PersonUsername/comments/aiiiy8/wp_the_dm_hands_you_the_paper_youre_just_dropping/)
- [/r/u_soullessgent] [\[WP\] The DM hands you the paper. You're just dropping in for the one session, but you know your role. The sheet says you're level 6, but you've got surprises. You have a mission: take out the DM's most-hated player. Well, their fun-killing Paladin, anyway. You're a hired gun. A Character Assassin.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_soullessgent/comments/aij46a/wp_the_dm_hands_you_the_paper_youre_just_dropping/)
&nbsp;*^(If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads.) ^\([Info](/r/TotesMessenger) ^/ ^[Contact](/message/compose?to=/r/TotesMessenger))* | 2019-01-21T19:47:16 | 2019-01-21T19:09:12 | 161 | 16 |
[WP] In a world of incredible heroes and villains, you have the most dangerous power of all: forcing actual, real world logic and physics to take place
2/19/19: Woah! I look away for a few minutes and suddenly 1000 likes! Thanks you guys!
2/19/19: Holy God! 6.5k likes?! Awesome! | It was, of course, another super power. I knew that. In my youth, what ever I believed strongly simply happened. My parent, valuing education, had promoted STEM subjects, and I had excelled. Mostly, expecting the world to work according to logic and physics had made me an unremarkable person. A competent engineer at best.
Until... The advent of the mutants, with their own reality bending powers, had brought the world to the brink of disaster. The first time I got involved, I was watching TV. There was an iceman. Spraying ice everywhere. Sucking the energy out of the world until it froze solid. I did a couple of calculations on the back of an envelope... So about 40,000Kj in an area of hmmm, say 1 meter cubed. Anyway, iceman exploded in a fiery mess. Soon it turned out that I just needed to assess someone to bring them back to reality, so to speak. Some of it was pretty gory, like the super strong. Pelvic Bones breaking, bursting into flame, sinking into the ground, that sort of thing. Others were sad. Telekinesis really makes a mess if you move something heavy. All that power needing to be dissipated, all that water in the brain coming to the boil. Ugh.
Turns out that the law of thermodynamics really messes with these guys. This did unleash a whole new type of supervillain. They used persuasion and charm and dishonesty, and however irrational their influence, I couldn't control the whole population to protect them. They have a name. We call them politicians. | *Snap*
A scream more iconic than Wilhelm's can be heard from something akin to a meteor flying directly to the city. "You're not as dashing when you're on fire" you say to the burning, falling Clark Kent. "Didn't you know? Your home planet doesn't exist anymore. I deleted it".
The Flash stares in fear, then disappears. "Not so fast..!" *Snap.* A tsunami of flames erupts, burning everything where the poor Scarlet Speedster once stood. When he stops, only his naked, burnt body remains. "The speed force aura is physically impossible, genius".
Cyclops and the X-men arrive at the scene of the crime. You smirk, knowing full well the outcome of this battle. *Snap* Professor X's head implodes, *Snap* Cyclops fries his brains, *Snap* Iceman dies from lack of blood circulation, *Snap* Angel collapses to the sound of broken bones, on and on the slaughter continues.
A curious Thanos watches from afar. He notices your powers, the way you singlehandedly defeat every superhero thrown your way. He begins to worry, perhaps you are more powerful than him? With this thought in mind, he travels to Earth but dies from stretching his physical form through different dimensions in an attempt to break the space time continuum, forgetting that you had fixed the broken physics when fighting the Flash.
"IS THERE NO-ONE WHO CAN DEFEAT ME?!" you scream, laughing as the world burns around you. ***BANG***
You fall to the floor, a wound in your chest.. a gunshot wound! You look up to see a tall, broad shouldered.. bat? man? Batman?! He smirks and stares you down before placing the gun to your head. "Nice try, kid.." ***BANG.*** | 2019-02-19T11:44:07 | 2019-02-19T10:20:49 | 123 | 48 |
[WP] You are a normal citizen in a relatively unimportant country. One day the goverment starts to act crazy, changing ideology overnight, drafting people for the army and antagonizing their neighbours. The player controlling your country in a strategy game has just begun their world conquest run. | *London, January 1, 1936*
“Uh Baldwin, you’re going to want to see this sir.”
“What is it?” replied Baldwin.
“Well, uh, Germany declared war on Poland, Denmark, and the Netherlands at once...”
“What? What about the League of Nations?”
“What League of Nations?”
“Uh, nevermind. Can we protect them or anybody else in Germany’s plans at least?” asked Baldwin.
“No, the globe thingy in the upper right has to be at 25%.”
“Ok, we need to get battle plans” said Baldwin as he brought forth the map of Europe on his desk. “First, we need to get the entire Royal Navy, and amass it into this massive blob fleet. Next, we need to train more troops-“
“Sir, today 17 thousand rifles disappeared from our armories.”
“Fuck, well produce more.”
“Ok sir, I will order the factories to produce more rifles-“
*Germany has declared war on France*
*France joined the Allies* | On mobile and also not a native speaker, so please go easy on me. Enjoy!
I couldn’t believe the news when I woke up. Our small country just declared war on our neighbors without any pretense. The army has been massively bolstered and the first few battles seemingly went in our favor. Apart from the defensive war against the blues a few years back we never fought before, always improving our economy and infrastructure. Our government always valued good living standards and a full treasury. Our armed forces always were on the weaker side number wise, but they have increased exponentially. I heard that we captured one city of the greens, who we were allied with before. Most of it was razed to the ground and what’s left is being shamelessly exploited by us. They are being oppressed by our forces there. The greens themselves were probably the weakest of our neighbors, but throwing away this long lasting mutual friendship all of the sudden sure surprised me. I heard that there were relentless bombardments on their coasts as well. I don’t think our generals even care about civilian casualties at this point. It’s only been a few hours and we have captured half of their territory already. So far so good, and while the countries of the AI-highlands shouldn’t be too much of an issue, i fear that the great nation of Player 2 wouldn’t leave us go without punishment...
| 2019-03-10T10:40:01 | 2019-03-10T09:03:58 | 424 | 14 |
[WP] start your story with a sentence that is upbeat and happy. Then end it with that same sentence but this time is dark and chilling. |
“ ‘Do you want to visit grandma?’
It was a quiet evening when my dad asked me this.
The day itself started out as any other, I woke up and got ready for school. I wore a fluffy pink sweater and purple and pink stripes stalkings with a pink tutu and light up shoes. It was my favorite outfit. Daddy called me down so he could drive me to school. The ride was quiet. I remember being so excited to see my friends and play on the playground at recess!
When we were half way through story time I got called to the office. I was sad cause Mrs.Bee was reading us a princess story. When I got to the office Daddy was there! I thought he went to work but he was there! He look weird though. He looked all sweaty and tired. I remember thinking, “Maybe he took and nap and slept in his day clothes,” cause those were all wrinkly too.
‘Hey sweetie! H-how are you?’ Why did his voice break? Was he just nervous? I didn’t know then. Not like i do now.
‘Hi daddy! We are reading a princess story today!’ I giggled excitedly and ran to hug him.
‘That’s nice sweetie! Why do we go out and get ice cream yeah? And—and maybe a new dolly?! Yeah? Let’s go okay?’ He picked me up and rushed us outside to the car.
We went to the mall and the sweet shop and al these other places! Daddy bought me a new dolly and I named her Anna! He bought me ice cream too! I loved Ice cream! While I ate though daddy went to the one store with camo on it and a deer. I didn’t like that store. I thought it was scary.
It was late when we got home. Almost super time but daddy hadn’t made any food. He just sat in his big comfy chair watching me play with me new doll. It was quiet.”
The officer looked at me when I paused. It was cold in the room we were in and the light was flickering.
“Kid I know you’re tired but I need you to continue.” I gulped, nervous and scared not wanting to relive this.
“I was playing with my dolly and suddenly he got up. I thought he was going to make food but instead he walk to the no no cabinet where we keep the guns. I couldn’t see what he was doing but I think he dropped something. Something small. Without showing me what he got he returned to the chair and looked at me again. For some reason he started crying so i gave him a hug. I don’t like when daddy is sad. He squeezed me and let go. He put his hand behind his back and I heard a small click.
What he said next confused me and I remember thinking ’was he talking about going to the cemetery?’ Or maybe that he said, ‘grandpas’ wrong.’ I heard sirens going off and a lot of things happened all at once and I was so so scared.”
I started to cry again. I didn’t want to continue. I just wanted to go home and away from this place. It’s so cold.
“Kid I really need to know what he said,”
“He asked,
‘Do you want to visit grandma?’” | (Can i make this undertale cos Im making this undertale lol)
&#x200B;
Its a beautiful day outside, birds are singing, flowers are blooming. Im going hiking today. Who cares if people say Mount Ebott is dangerous, people come back all the time! I get out of bed and get dressed into my favourite striped jumper. I grab my bag and leave the house, wave to my parents, and set off.
&#x200B;
I climb up the long winding paths of the mountain and enter a large cave. The stalactites clinging onto the roof. I hang my bag around a stalagmite and grab a plaster to cover a nasty cut on my hand. I start to look around and my foot gets caught on a a root and it sends me plummeting into a large pit.
&#x200B;
***THUNK***
My head hurt, no, everywhere hurt. I had fallen on some flowers? They were yellow, I recognise that they were the same used to remember my aunt who went missing here. I never knew her but i heard she was nice. I leave the flower room and see a lone, singular flower, it turns around and it has a face?! It starts to speak, "Howdy! Im Flowey! Flowey the flower! You're new to the underground arn't ya?" It winks and sticks it's tongue out.
"Dont worry! I'll teach ya how things work around here! See that heart? That is your soul!" A red heart appears infront of my chest, pulseing infront of me, i gasp and take a step back.
"Dont worry silly! Thats yours! See move it around! Souls start of weak, but grow with lots of LV, whats LV why LOVE of course!" It winks again "You want some love dont ya! LOVE down here is spread through little white friendly-ness pellets! Grab as many as you can!"
It sends some white dot things at me, they hit my soul and it hurts, so badly.
"You idiot. To think i would pass up an opportunity like this." Its face contorts.
# "Die"
It surrounds me with the pellets, slowly encosing on me when.
"AHHHnhgfidhn"
It's sent flying across the room. Then i hear another voice.
"Do not worry my child, I am Toriel."
I stand up.
"Caretaker of the ruins"
I grab a stick.
"Take my hand my child"
It holds out it's hand, but i panic and stab it.
"Ahh... I see. Haha. I guess, you weren't as defenseless as I once thought."
You won! Your LOVE and GOLD increased.
&#x200B;
After that I went around killing the hideous monsters that lived there, every time I did, it felt easier. They wanted to hurt me first. Right? That flower did! I left the ruins, I killed the rest of the monsters. As my LOVE and EXP increased, it was easier, it came to the point where it was enjoyable!
&#x200B;
I then stood in a checkered hall, staring eye to eyesocket at a skeleton, he had killed me plently of times before, i dont know how, I could just feel it, so could he.
"heh heh, welcome back kid. it's a beautiful day outside today, birds are singing, flowers are blooming..."
&#x200B;
\-----
Hope that was ok :) Sorry for making it undertale, i just thought sans's genocide lines would be perfect. | 2019-09-07T06:18:23 | 2019-09-07T04:42:58 | 108 | 12 |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.